The Dead Place. Stephen Booth

Their mouths twist, their limbs writhe, their hands open and close like claws as they reach towards the light. I try to make them settle down, to lie still so they can be buried. But it never does any good. In my dreams, the dead just won’t stop squirming.

       9

      Next morning, Diane Fry found two middle-aged DCs occupying desks in the CID room. They wore almost identical navy blue suits, and they were both a bit too meaty around the shoulders, so they hardly seemed to have any necks. One had a tie with blue stripes, and the other black-and-white checks. They could have been visiting sales executives from a pharmaceutical company.

      ‘Who are those two?’ asked Gavin Murfin.

      ‘CID support,’ said Fry.

      ‘What?’

      ‘They retired from D Division last year. But they’ve come back to help out for a bit, while we’re short-staffed. Mr Hitchens says they’re very experienced. They both put in their full thirty.’

      ‘Yes, I can tell.’

      At the morning briefing on the Sandra Birley enquiry, Ben Cooper was the first to raise a hand. Keen to get noticed, no doubt.

      ‘Sir, do you think Mrs Birley’s attacker might have watched her for some days beforehand and worked out her habits?’

      ‘What habits?’ said DI Hitchens.

      ‘For a start, the location she chose to park her car. And her practice of not using the lift when it smelled.’

      ‘What, and pissed in the lift to discourage her from using it?’

      ‘It was just a thought.’

      ‘It would be too good to be true, wouldn’t it? A suspect who covered the floor of the lift with his DNA for us to find?’ The DI considered it. ‘No, it won’t work, Ben. He couldn’t possibly have known Sandra Birley would work late that night.’

      ‘No? Well, not unless –’

      ‘Unless?’

      ‘Unless he worked in the same office.’

      ‘We have to look at all her colleagues, then,’ said Hitchens. ‘How many are there?’

      ‘About forty people work at Peak Mutual,’ said Fry. ‘Male and female.’

      ‘Male and female? Good point, DS Fry. We mustn’t assume we’re looking for a male offender at this stage.’

      ‘The phone call, sir?’ said somebody.

      ‘The phone call may turn out to have nothing to do with the abduction.’

      DCI Kessen was present at the briefing, but sitting to one side and letting DI Hitchens take the floor. Fry wasn’t surprised to see the acting head of CID. If the Birley case became a murder enquiry, Kessen would be appointed Senior Investigating Officer. But for now, they had no body, no evidence that there had been a serious crime. The possibility that Sandra Birley had been abducted from the Clappergate car park was just that – a possibility.

      ‘Are we going to get the husband to make an appeal, sir?’ asked Cooper, raising his hand. Fry nodded reluctantly to herself. At least that was one tactic they could use without committing themselves to anything.

      ‘We think it’s too early yet,’ said Hitchens. ‘Besides, he isn’t in any condition at the moment. I spoke to the family liaison officer first thing this morning, and it seems Mr Birley’s emotional state has deteriorated considerably since yesterday.’

      Then it turned out that the two retired DCs had been working an early shift, too. They’d already been through the CCTV footage from the Clappergate multi-storey. That wasn’t anybody’s favourite job. Feelings in the room began to warm towards them.

      ‘First of all, we’ve eliminated the owners of the other two vehicles that were left in the car park overnight,’ said the one with the black-and-white tie. ‘The first bloke had drunk too much in the pub and sensibly decided to get a taxi. He turned up to get his car next morning, so we got a statement from him. He didn’t see anything. But how would he, when he was in the pub at the time?’