Bloodshed - A Dark Star Tale Pt. 04

"Yeah, I met her briefly."

"Me too...saw her when I was here" Callaghan stated. "I don't rule anyone out, but I'd struggle to rule her in... I still want to cross reference with her... no need to visit her at home but maybe you can swing by here again tomorrow... make up for missing today?"

"Like I said ...I was..."

"I know," Callaghan smirked at how easily she could get under the young Detectives skin. "As intriguing as it is disturbing ... we've still got the night shift to catch up with ...two of our team are gonna handle those employees later. What's interesting though is that nobody seems aware of these alleged Trespassers you've uncovered... including Will Marchant... there's no record of anything on the date in question... we've asked for CCTV."

"He couldn't have been covering up ...lying?" Myers offered almost apologetically for seeming to doubt her superior.

"That's why we need the CCTV ...but I can tell when I'm being lied to DC Byers" Callaghan shook her head. "The two uniforms found a repaired fence when snooping, but we are keeping that to ourselves for now ...as there was no way on this green earth that Will Marchant knew about the Trespassers ...I could see that in his eyes."

"So... What are you saying Ma'am?"

"There's still something about this place and Will Marchant... he's interesting but I'm questioning his whole 'Person of Interest' status. So much so I've still not even raised Emily Winters with him... not until we've concrete evidence and those CCTV images have been enhanced."

"Five missing girls though Ma'am if we include Josie Gibson."

"I know ...I know ...we need to start fighting these fires... C'mon let's head back in... We've got a mountain of paperwork to slow our progress down."

"Mines already filed," DC Myers offered with a smug grin.

"Bitch," Callaghan smirked throwing her younger colleague a stern yet fake sneer.

**

"Coppers" Andy Marshall said aloud as he and Gary Wilson watched the two females head towards separate cars.

"Even in a meat factory you can still smell Pigs," Gary sneered before chuckling, "For once though my nose is clean and they ain't after me... I didn't even need to give them a statement."

"What they doing here though?" Andy asks having turned up for his shift only ten minutes earlier and seemingly missed all the excitement of the day.

"Well..." Gary said with an almost pride "That foxy bit of skirt Maya and Marchant's Mrs have both gone missing it seems."

"Missing?" Andy offered a little surprised.

"If you ask me..." Gary chuckled, "Old Man Marchant's been upping the meat content of his burgers."

Gary Wilson's dark humour drew a chuckle from Andy Marshall who checked his watch before drawing another long inhale on his Vape. Moving away convinced there was nothing of interest left to see as the two unmarked Police Cars left the Car Park through the gates Gary Wilson gave a nod meant to encompass all around him, despite not being recognised or returned and he headed back in toward the factory. A busy afternoon of finding reasons to avoid what needed to be done ahead of him. As he stepped away, he heard her meek voice behind him.

"Gary... Gary" she offered as halfway across the car park they stopped to face one another.

"Una ... look if it's about those extra shifts I've doing all I can... but if you think it'll help, I'm willing to accommodate another over time request from you," he didn't recognise the look of disdain his lecherous smile earned him from the dark-haired girl, he was too busy thinking about what he'd do to her given a second opportunity.

Una meanwhile was left immediately feeling sickened in herself at what she'd allowed to happen between the two of them in the first regrettable instance.

"No ...no not that Gary" Una offered timidly "... what you said in Smoke Shelter about Police and about Maya and Mr Marchant's wife."

"Yeah" Gary offered almost dismissively.

"Do you think... do you think I should tell them about Mila?"

"Who?"

"Mila, she work here but not been here for weeks ...I not know where she is and nobody seen her."

"Una... Una... Una..." Gary offered pondering the name while stretching his arm around her shoulder, she flinched a little at his touch. "There's only one problem with that though aint there my little Slovak beauty."

"What is problem Gary?"

"You've gotta be legally living in the Country for the Police to class you as missing... it's how we do things in good old little Britain... I dunno where your little friend has gotten to, but you probably don't want to be drawing attention ...unlike me not everyone is happy to turn a blind eye to a lack of official documentation."

"Oh... I see," was Una's short, startled reply.

"Probably best left alone," Gary stated drawing a line under their brief conversation on the matter. "Your friend probably got sniff of a better offer someplace else...50p an hour extra maybe?"

Gary Wilson left his arm draped around the Slovakian workers shoulder a little too long for her liking as they headed across the car park.

**

Pulling up his hand break Will Marchant looked out the windscreen at the block of flats that faced him. A quick look to his left didn't exactly reassure him. Outside a row of up and over door garages two track suit wearing teenagers' eye balled him suspiciously form under their baseball caps. The burnt-out rusted shell of an undistinguishable vehicle just to their left told him everything he needed to know. How could Flick live in a place like this?

Will had grown up around the City he knew the reputation of the Hillcliffe Estate not too far from where his sat nav had brought him, how its reputation had deteriorated having been a once fairly aspirational area. In the last twenty years the area had slowly become riddled with drugs and crime. Will had taken a note of Flick's address before he'd left the Office for the day, the address hadn't flagged the area to him, but he was shocked at the overspill influence of the Hillcliffe Estate.

He'd left her several unanswered messages across the day. That she hadn't responded to, by the fourth message he was growing concerned and his paranoia perhaps unwarranted was fuelled.

Stepping out the car he locked the doors and made his way across the poorly maintained tarmac parking bays, weeds sprouting indiscriminately from cracks in the surface etched with painted white lines in need of a refresh that were meant to discern the individual parking bays. Around him he could here children squealing, the raised voices of a domestic argument and at least four of five different types of music. Each seemingly set at full volume as if to drown out the other.

Will quickly spotted the flight of concrete steps next to the graffiti covered doors of the lifts that ran up the centre of the building, opting to take the stairs not trusting the reliability the quicker option might offer him. Assuming flat 619 would be on the sixth floor he ascended the flights of concrete steps taking twelve flights as he weaved his way up through the building. At the sixth floor he spotted the sign indicating flats 601 to 620 were accessed along the balcony come walkway to his left. The sounds of the various types of music were no quieter up here, but all seemingly merged into one chaotic chorus.

The green door to Flick's flat was soon on his left-hand side, he didn't pause despite not really clear what he'd say when she opened the door. Pressing his finger against the doorbell he heard no sound from the other side of the door. He waited patiently though. Around thirty seconds later he tapped his knuckles against the door. Still gaining no response, which he thought a little strange. Squatting he lifted the flap of the white plastic flap of the letterbox set in the UPVC door. Peering through at the hallway and into what he assumed to be a lounge beyond that.

"Flick...it's Will," he called through the open letter box.

Still no response just before he let go of the flap two yellow eyes met his with a suspicious stare. Will finding himself eyeball to eyeball with Flick's dusky grey cat.

"Evening Mister... you must be Arthur."

He didn't even garner a miaow in reply as the cat nonchalantly turned his back on Will and headed through the hallway door and out of sight.

Will let the flap fall heavily as if to further announce his presence. As if the knocking and calling through the door hadn't been enough. It quickly became apparent Flick Bowerman obviously wasn't at home. In the distance over the confused cacophony of music he could hear the sound of an Emergency Vehicles siren

'Where could she be?' Will considered heading back down the concrete steps, easier on his tired legs in this direction as he headed back down to his car. He sat watching up towards the green door on the sixth floor for a good twenty minutes from behind his steering wheel, he tried calling her twice in that same time.

The same thought of 'where could she be?' in his head as he pulled away and headed home to his girls and to relieve Jo Pinnock for the day. Having deliberately gone out of his way to be here given the address had been on the opposite side of the City from the route which he ordinarily took home, the detour of sorts to his trip was always going to make him late home.

Will drove a little too quickly with his thoughts distracted. So much so that's he didn't spot the mobile speed camera van on the side of the road, in the setting sun, he passed the van at a speed of 67mph in a 50mph area.

**

Dressed in a loose-fitting pink tee over a pair of marl grey leggings Sarah Myers looked out across the heathland into the setting sun with a smile on her face.

The tall grasses around her bathed in the orange glow of the late summer sunset. She watched as her black and white Jack Russell, Brocky, came bounding through the long grass enthusiastically with the well chewed tennis ball in his mouth. She had warned him this would be the last throw of their evening stroll; she knew he wouldn't understand.

"C'mon then Brocks," she offered walking away towards the gravelled Car Park area. The Car Park wasn't huge, but she was slightly amused and equally bemused to see that the only other vehicle, a large blue VW Van had pulled up right next to her own VW pool car. She shook her head as she approached, the vans occupant nowhere to be seen, presumably out walking on the Heath somewhere.

Opening her boot, she encouraged Brocky to jump up into the boot that she'd lined with newspaper. Pets in pool cars weren't strictly forbidden but the invariable mess dog hairs made would be frowned upon. Brocky stubbornly refused Sarah's polite request, she knew he'd rather be up front with her.

Chuckling Sarah stared down at her disobedient four-legged companion, gently scorning him with a pouted expression.

"C'mon Mister in you get ...you want your food don't you ...let's go home and get your din dins... you do want your din dins don't you?"

To absorbed in her one-way conversation Sarah didn't notice or hear the approach from behind her.

Brocky dropping the tennis ball from his mouth growling briefly as he cocked his head in curiosity then barked with unusual viscous ferocity.

Sarah Myers turned her head too late as the arm grabbed her around the waist and she simultaneously felt the sharp sting of pain in the right-hand side of her neck.

**

**

The white clad figure entered the vast refrigerated room lined with pig carcasses.

A whisp of condensation from warm breath floated on the air against the ultra-chilled air.

Moving through the lines of freshly cut meat two irregular forms hung amongst the pink carcasses, human forms, naked female forms mummified with thick industrial strength cling film.

Double meat hooks sunk deep into the shoulders of both bodies.

One hung silent and still. From behind the clear plastic film of the second form open wide eyes could just be discerned. A soft whimpering sound escaping her mouth.

Raising the first body dislodging the meat hook from the chains which suspended the body, the female let out a prolonged scream that was absorbed by the multiple layers of film.

The white clad figure carried the mummified body over the shoulder back through the rows of hung pig carcasses.

The second lifeless figure left hung there alone, whimpering in the vast cold refrigerated room.

Chapter Sixteen - Liability

Rose Callaghan was fuming. She had known that as with any such interaction there was always a danger that her teams ultimately fruitless little visit to Marchant's Meats would draw attention.

Stepping across the main reception towards the lifts she stabbed her finger against the elevator call button. She'd not had time to digest the so-called exclusive story that the online version of the local newspaper had posted shortly before 7am. She couldn't digest the content simply because attempting to read the article using her phone had been a nightmare given the sheer number of banner and pop up adds that were imbedded in the article to no doubt supplement the huge drop in traditional newspaper circulation. She expected she needed to digest too much of its content to appreciate it was purely click bait speculation, and no doubt wild speculation at that.

Callaghan was fuming as much at the story breaking, as she was that one of the employees of Marchant's had no doubt taken the level of gossip to up a notch beyond that could be offered by blurting the details to their dozen or so Twitter followers or selection of so-called friends on Facebook. These days lazy journalists were more inclined to trawl social media than receive tip offs from anyone directly involved. Perhaps a disgruntled employee with an axe to grind with management had decided the negative press was what the company deserved at this moment in time. It was in this most likely of scenarios that Callaghan doubted she would find little more than scurrilous rumour and speculation despite the dramatic, long winded headline of 'Police Search Local Business In Hunt For Missing Persons'

Even the headline was inaccurate, there had been no search, yet that was a decision they'd make in their own time. Searching a regularly deep cleaned sterilised meat processing plant would bring its own issues for any forensic investigation. In truth yesterday's efforts might have been a spectacular waste of time for everyone involved. Cross referencing all statements taken had failed to provide any coherent details or corroborate anything beyond what they were already aware of.

Stepping out of the lift Callaghan wasn't then fuming so much that the local rag had got hold of the story as she was the fact that she'd lost a little control on her own investigation. More than a little control more than is likely. They promised the hack at the local paper, Bonnie Dawson, exclusivity on any details about any of the missing girls. In truth the story was credited to another female journalist, but Callaghan wasn't naive enough to existence of 'ghost writers.' Media attention was best managed and manipulated, used as a tool to support their investigation. Not that it had helped in the weeks since Cheri Hernandez and Emily Winters had disappeared, both vanishing of the face of the earth, so it seemed. Not that Callaghan believed in such possibilities. They had little to share with the Press as they had scant little to work with themselves.

She was confident that the leak to the press hadn't come from her own team, unless she'd missed a chunk in her frustrated initial attempted read through, as the lazy journalism didn't even link Maya Cruz and Kelly Marchant to Winters and Hernandez. Had the leak come from inside the walls of Police HQ their names and the name of the fifth missing girl her investigation team were now frantically trying to piece together details on, Josie Liddell, would surely have been speculated. Callaghan had to take control of the situation, pull rank possibly and call-in favours once again. A holding statement acknowledging their presence and giving little other detail would likely be the first course of action to quell the smouldering speculation.

Callaghan heard the yap of a dog's bark as she headed along the corridor to the Investigating Office, assuming she was hearing things, as she couldn't possibly have heard a dog's bark. Entering the door to her Investigation Office she was amazed to find half her team fawning over an excitable black and white little dog. Callaghan wasn't an animal lover but believed it was a Jack Russell breed. Taken aback lost for words a little she stood hand on hip gawping at first then glowering, but she wasn't the focus of anyone's attention. It was some time before anyone in her team even noticed her before slowly and sheepishly, she garnered recognition and awkward greetings.

"Did I miss a memo ... if it isn't some charity day then why the fuck is there a dog in my investigation office?"

"It's DC Myers dog," DC Aaron Chapman, a compatriot of Myers but not a member of her team commented rather innocuously as if that was all the explanation needed.

"And DC Myers thought it a good idea to bring her dog to work this morning, did she?" Callaghan had scanned the room already appreciating Sarah Myers wasn't present.

"Not ...not quite Ma'am," DC Chapman offered as he turned to face her taking a step forward. "A Uniform patrol picked the dog up late last night ...up near the Heath."

"What's he accused of drug pushing... soliciting?" Callaghan humoured the admittedly rugged looking and well-built DC, a former Rugby player who's sporting career had been cut short by injury, or so she'd heard. She also heard how his career trajectory rivalled her own protege.

"No Ma'am," he grinned a little at her quip, "Couple of kids flagged down a Patrol Car and they brought him in as they couldn't contact the RSPCA, they were planning on handing him over this morning... hadn't thought to check the tag in the collar...bloody uniform. The tags only got her phone number and her address on it... it's my fault he's in your office I recognised him earlier when I was downstairs."

"Cute..." Callaghan offered on a raised eyebrow to DC Chapman "I think the real questions around this missing mutt are not what he's been up to but how come DC Chapman that you recognise the energetic little so and so and also know both DC Myers telephone number and address?"

The male detective flushed a little confirming Callaghan's suspicion, bringing a grin to her face. She couldn't blame her young colleague for taking a less than professional interest in the beef cake that was DC Aaron Chapman.

"I take it she knows her pooch is safe and well?"

"I've tried ... but I can't get hold of her," Chapman responded.

"You can't?" Callaghan was about to dial Sarah Myers from her own phone, pausing she addressed the office, hating the sense of anxiety that suddenly gripped. Her unattended dog discovered; she wasn't answering her phone.

"Has anyone heard from DC Myers this morning?" She addressed the room.

The negative responses and blank faces she received back didn't calm that growing sense of anxiety.

**

Sarah Myers was exhausted by excruciating pain.

She couldn't tell where she was, her vision obscured, blurred by whatever was wrapped around her face, her head, her whole body. She could barely move. Any movement she could achieve merely brought on waves of further excruciating nauseating pain to the backs of her shoulders.

She couldn't call out as she couldn't even move her jaw.

Her body felt like a dead weight.

She heard the muffled footsteps approach.

In her restricted vision she saw the blur of movement.

Felt the strong grip on her hips lift her body up drawing the pained scream from her.