we get a sample of –’
‘Hold your horses, Driver,’ said Mark, suddenly bounding forward. ‘This is my crime scene, my search party, my lads from SOCO. Off you go, boys – time for a break.’
‘Don’t go anywhere. I don’t mean to state the obvious, but Anna Maria isn’t here,’ said Jessie. ‘You heard the boss, this is my crime scene now.’
‘You don’t know that this is a crime scene,’ said Mark. ‘And we haven’t finished the search yet. You may not have noticed, but there are four old coal stores we haven’t investigated and below this level are the foundations of the workhouse that was originally built on this site. We haven’t even started this search.’
‘You think this guy mutilated his own hands and dropped himself in a hole and pulled the lid over his head? Come on, of course this is a crime scene. I can’t have you lot trampling all over it – you’ll contaminate it.’
‘That is quite enough melodrama, DI Driver.’ DCI Moore moved towards the exit. ‘Mark has a point. This place may still be unsafe. Let’s keep going with what is essential: finding Anna Maria Klein. When Mark is finished, you can continue with your investigation. But, please, don’t move the body until the hyenas have moved on. Sarah Klein and I are going to make a statement.’
‘I bet you are,’ whispered Jessie under her breath.
DCI Moore shot her a look, then left. Sally took out a card and quickly scribbled a name and number on it.
‘He’s a doctor, but he’s studying forensic pathology. He’s got great potential and passion, and he’ll relish a challenge like this. Send him the body. That way we’ll get it examined without the cost of a coroner, and if he finds anything we’ll go down the normal channels.’
DCI Moore reappeared as Jessie pocketed the card. ‘Sally, would you accompany me back up to ground level? There is something I’d like to discuss with you.’
‘It’s not balls this woman is after,’ whispered Jessie as Sally made to leave.
As soon as they were out of the door Mark moved in. He started by picking up one corner of the tarpaulin and dragging it across the floor. The stiff shifted.
‘Wait,’ shouted Jessie. ‘Let’s at least take a photo of it.’ She reached out to the police photographer hovering by the rusty boiler tanks.
‘No,’ said Mark. ‘I need you upstairs, where they found that blanket. Quick, before we lose this light.’
‘She isn’t here and you know it.’
He raised his heavy lids to meet her eyes then slowly rubbed his chest.
‘Fine,’ she retorted. Placing herself between the body and the hole in the ground, she pulled her backpack off her shoulder. ‘I have my own camera. So go to hell.’
The flickering light stopped flickering, popped and then went out, taking all the other lights out with it. A soupy darkness wrapped itself around them.
‘Shit,’ said Mark. Jessie heard a thud. The corpse of an unknown man being unceremoniously dropped.
‘No one move,’ shouted Jessie. ‘Torches, anyone?’
‘Someone go and find out what’s going on!’ shouted Mark.
‘No, don’t move. You don’t know where you’re walking. Burrows, you’re nearest the door, you go.’
Jessie heard a rustle.
‘No one else move, the pits are open!’
‘We’re not,’ came the chorus.
‘Someone is moving!’
‘Jesus Christ,’ said Mark. ‘Fucking pussies, the lot of you.’ Jessie heard the strike of a flint. Mark was holding up a lighter. Two more strikes. Two more lighters. Then another, then another.
Mark started waving his lighter in the air. ‘It’s like a fucking Barry Manilow concert.’ There were a few laughs.
‘What can we conclude from this?’ asked Mark.
‘That the place is spooked?’ said a voice from the darkness that Jessie recognised as Fry.
‘No, lad. That coppers smoke too much.’ More laughter. ‘Now, let’s get the fuck out of here and have a break and a smoke, like I suggested.’
All the lighters moved at once.
‘Not all of you,’ exclaimed Jessie. But the lighters kept on moving until there were none left. Jessie felt warm air on the back of her neck. Finally she found her torch. She swung round with it, illuminating Mark’s face. He stood a few feet away.
‘Very funny,’ she said, with no trace of humour in her voice.
‘What? Get that light out of my face.’
‘Stop pissing about.’ She could feel little hairs bristle as she rubbed the nape of her neck. She shone the beam of light towards the floor. Open, empty eye sockets gaped back at her. Startled, she nearly let go of the torch. ‘Now look what you’ve done, Mark!’
‘What? I didn’t do anything.’
‘You dropped him.’
She passed the light over the body again.
‘I didn’t.’
Jessie frowned. The lids lay closed as before. Hiding the holes that lay beneath. ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘it must have been a trick of the light.’
‘Trick of your mind, maybe,’ said Mark. ‘Don’t tell me this place is getting to you. Not the fearless, indomitable Jessie Driver.’ He took two steps towards her, snatched the torch from her hand and switched it off.
‘Mark, don’t!’
She could hear him moving about in the darkness.
‘This is so childish. You could fall.’
He didn’t reply. She imagined the infantile grin on his pasty face.
‘Turn the light back on before you do yourself an injury,’ said Jessie, following the sound of him feeling his way through the dark. Still he didn’t reply. He was mistaken if he thought she’d fall to her knees and sob like a baby. That was his speciality.
‘I thought you didn’t like the dark?’
Silence.
‘Remember? In the dark, alone, scared.’ A cold blast of air came from nowhere, wrapped itself around her legs and made her shiver. She could still hear Mark. His shuffling was getting closer. She braced herself for whatever was coming. Blinding light in her eyes. More warm air on her neck. A soft moan. Rattling chains. What? What was it going to be?
‘I can hear your elf-like footsteps, arsehole.’
There was a bang. The sound of something heavy being dropped.
‘Stop messing around and put the fucking light back on!’ she shouted.
A pale blue bulb popped and glowed, then another. They got brighter as the power seeped through the circuit, gradually illuminating the long-forgotten boiler room. Jessie looked around. She was all alone. Curled around her feet lay the lifeless body.
Jessie sat high up on one of the spectators’ benches. She’d watched the last of the police officers leave and was just waiting for Moore to phone her with the all-clear to move the body. She looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. It was Sarah Klein.
‘I didn’t know anyone was still here,’ said Jessie.
Sarah Klein sat down on the thin wooden seat next to her. ‘I can’t go out there.’ She looked at Jessie with red-rimmed eyes. ‘Just look at me.’
‘Ms Klein, did P. J. Dean really recommend me to you?’
She