Darkness Dominates - Chapter 6

Somewhere between the dawn and when most radio breakfast shows started, Stewart was brought of the dream he was having by his mobile phone. He had to rub his eyes gently first, so he could see where on his bedside table it was. His right hand retrieved it from under his pillow, however.

“How the hell did it get there?”

The question awoke his wife and she wasn’t happy about it. She turned over to try and drift off again, but DCI Oliver had a loud phone voice and she had to rely on her pillows to muffle his noisiness.

“Yes? Yes, sir, I was asleep when you rang.”

“Who is it?” asked Mrs Oliver.

“The Chief Constable, love”

With that information acquired, she sandwiched her head between the pair of pillows again and closed her eyes. Stewart shuffled up his side of the bed to get to a sitting position that didn’t strain his lower back.

“Sorry, sir, my wife was just talking to me! Go on with what you were saying. Have I watched the local news? No, sir, I haven’t. You want me to turn the TV on right now? Okay, let me go downstairs and I’ll call you back, sir.”

He moved a sufficient portion of his side of the quilt cover across, so his feet didn’t get entangled. Because he’d laid his slippers vertically the night before, he was able to insert his feet into them without needing to look where he was going.

A lorry had stopped in the street to allow a car to back out into the area of the road ahead. The dense mechanical thuds from the ignition revving to keep the engine on penetrated the walls of the living room. The widescreen HD TV had been left on standby all night, so all DCI Oliver had to do was to press that button on the remote. His thumb did that chore. Another news report was on and Stewart thought he’d missed it, but he hadn’t. The next was the one he’d been told to watch out for. After straightening the sheets of paper in front of her, the female news announcer spoke to the camera, reading the words on the teleprompter.

“Uniformed police were called to the grounds of Lister & Sons haulage contractors at twelve minutes to six by a resident living nearby. What they found was the business premises in ruins, the heavy goods vehicles destroyed and the remains of one of the firm’s employees. More details from Veronica Ludlow. Be advised that her report contains footage some viewers may find disturbing.”

Stewart had the pre-broadcast warning, but he kept watching undaunted. Graphic imagery was a part of the job he learned to cope with on a day-to-day basis. He also knew Miss Ludlow was going to be at the scene of the incident before the newscaster had made her presence there public. Her history with DCI Oliver and his colleagues had earned her an unfavourable reputation. He’d mentally documented all the times something horrific was being reported locally, and he did not think it a coincidence her name kept being announced as the reporter there. Stewart and the others saw her as an opportunistic, slightly over-ambitious woman who revelled on landing in the more shocking reports that some of her nicer colleagues weren’t keen to take on, even if they’d been assigned to. He couldn’t prove she got off on this category of news stories, but Veronica had never done anything to warrant the accusation slanderous. DCI Oliver was going on what he sensed about her personality, and at times it made him shudder. His nine seconds of introspection meant he missed the opening sentence of her report from the firm’s location, but he steered himself to pay attention to the rest of it.

“The parade of marked police vehicles, ambulances and fire engines are causing considerable disruption to those driving through the area around Lister & Sons’ main haulage depot” said Miss Ludlow. “Constables and fire crews are trying to hold back people from passing directly by the site of the incident. Our cameras did get a brief view at the scene of what can only be described as a possible explosion.”

On the screen came the footage viewers were warned to expect. It barely triggered any emotion from Stewart. He had seen worse. All there really was to see were a few smears of blood on the ground. He didn’t think it was pleasant to look at if people hadn’t had their breakfasts yet, but he wasn’t forging the opinion it was a nasty as a moment of gruesomeness from a Quentin Tarantino flick.

“The constable I spoke to was only able to confirm that a disturbance at the premises was reported by a member of the public. However, since I’ve been here, the emphasis the emergency services are focussed on primarily is on containment instead of investigation. We aren’t being told either how long the cordon will be here for, but by looking at the amount of debris and alleged structural weaknesses of the neighbouring buildings, the sole assumption I’m able to make is that it this road could be sealed off to pedestrians and motorists for at least five or six days, depending on how much debris can be removed in the next twenty-four hours. As for the human remains, the consensus from the uniform presence there is that a forensic examination of the scene is unlikely to happen until this evening at the earliest. Clearing the site seems to be the uppermost priority in the minds of all the emergency service departments currently at the scene. The firm’s proprietors have yet to arrive here, but given the traffic situation, it is believed any exchange of information between them and those officially dealing with it will be over the phone. Until we something to the contrary, it looks as if this area has been closed off until further notice. Veronica Ludlow in Bolton for BBC North West”

The stand-by button was pressed again. He didn’t want the TV’s noise to impede him hearing his mobile phone getting calls. As he was thinking about it, he got the first one of the day from Angela. Donnie and Graham’s calls came after, and there was not even a minute separating the end of one and the beginning of the next. They all conveyed the same message, but said it in ways that defined their personalities.

“And the 4^th one will be Jade!” he said to himself.

He stood there for at least seven minutes. Yet, his mobile was silent. He was surprised at his disappointment that DC Pryce didn’t jump on her fellow officers’ bandwagon: he thought he would’ve been relieved. Moving himself to the kitchen and making himself a coffee bought him some time not to expect her to call. Another ten minutes of not hearing his ringtone spring back into action set him off speculating whether Jade had actually woken up. Eventually, he went with that conclusion. Keeping hold of his mobile in his left hand acted as a symbolic reminder he promised to call the Chief Constable back after watching the report, and he hadn’t yet made good on that, but he was saved the trouble of doing it. The ringtone sounded again and he took the call there and then.

“Yes, sir, I’ve seen it! You’re stopping by CID headquarters when? Right, sir – I’ll be expecting you.”

One on one office visits signified he was going to be given information that he would be forbidden from sharing with those he regularly issued orders to. He’d almost forgotten to press the ‘end call’ button, and it was apparent that the man he took instructions from might have spent about thirty seconds listening to the receiver tapping against Stewart’s left trouser leg. He put it to his ear again but heard nothing other than the dial tone. His boss had hung up as DCI Oliver promised to be where he said he was going to be. Ditching the expectation that Jade would ring right before he set off for work, he began dressing himself for that car journey.

 

The little finger of Jade’s left hand began to twitch as a rabbit hopped close to its nail. This involuntary motion frightened the bunny and it made several leaps to be gone from an area it found dangerous. The blades of grass were still dew-laden and parts of the hand resting on the green surface were slightly damp. Against the increasing onset of daylight, the wet patches glistened. The coldness of the sensation began to rouse Jade out of her slumber and she rolled onto her back. Her eyelids were trying to open and DC Pryce was burdened for a short while by blurry images which were attempting to come into focus. She said the word “fuck” protractedly while she was yawning. A quick look up to the sky didn’t help the tiredness to go at the speed she wanted it to vanish during. Incomprehensible noises in the distance encircled the spot where she slept. They became clearer as her hearing got the message she was awake and started working fully. This managed to enable the process of waking up to go a fraction faster. The next eight minutes saw her trying to get her arms to propel herself upwards. They felt sore and stiff. She groaned when she grass stains on her hands. A diagonal roll over and getting up on one knee succeeded where her arms hadn’t. She gradually stood up and was considerably alarmed to discover she was at the top of an embankment that looked onto a motorway hard shoulder.

“How drunk did I get last night?”

This was the most common thought her brain could summon. She gazed at the other side of the length of motorway passing the foot of the grassy verge. None of the houses she saw were recognisable. She put her hand up to her forehead, but couldn’t feel any raised temperature. There were no traces of a hangover either.

“I can’t have gotten drunk after dealing with Leon. I...”

She had made no effort to think of him. The name had slipped out naturally.

The horrified look she’d exhibited last night on spying Harris’ dead body returned with a vengeance. Her eyes swept all of the area she could see clearly and it stopped at a sheep a short way away. It was lying on its left hand side and a large pool of blood soaked the grass underneath the dead animal. She got closer, but the smell of intestines exposed to the morning air prompted a puking session. It went on for a few minutes, and she’d expelled the well-digested remnants of the steak she’d eaten last night. Still, there was no headache or migraine forcing its way into her head. She stood up again and began the long walk back to civilisation.

It was an elaborate journey because she had to ask a good number of people the best way back to the centre of Bolton. Two hours of continuous walking paid off and she found a long street on the outskirts that led her to a section of the high street she knew well. Her bleariness was still a persistent physical visitation and it falsely made her look she was feeling the morning effects of exceeding her alcohol intake. A constable on her way back to the scene of devastation at Lister & Sons, having been temporarily called into action to sort out a mild public order offence, mistook it for that too.

“Been on the lam, love” she asked Jade, thinking she was dealing with an intoxicated female.

“No, I was at the....doesn’t matter!”

“What’s your name and what’s with the strip-o-gram outfit?”

“Two questions in one sentence...cute!”

The constable frowned.

“I’m going to get a bag for you to blow into.”

“No wait, constable, don’t breathalyse me!”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because of this” said Jade, holding her wallet open to show the WPC her CID rank.

“God, DC Pryce! I had no idea it was you – I’ve been busy with World War Three breaking out at Lister’s lorry place!”

“That’s okay, I had a rough night and....sorry, did you say World War Three breaking out at Lister & Sons?”

“Yes, looks like a bomb’s gone off there! Shall I tell DCI Oliver you’re here?”

“Yes...no, not yet! Tell him to expect me at the site soon. I’m going home to change out this fucking stupid costume, and then have a shower. No wonder you thought I was a stripper!”

“Why don’t I drive you there, Jade? Sorry, I’m not supposed to use the first names of my superiors! It’s a hard habit to get out of! I’m still on a learning curve, pretty much.”

“You can take me in the patrol car, just so long as you don’t use the phrase ‘learning curve’ again.”

Technically, Jade’s working day had started, so the WPC was free to let Pryce sit in the front passenger seat.

“By the way, I didn’t catch your name!”

“WPC Lenora Hardcastle.”

“I remember you now”

“I was doing my job”

“Don’t put yourself down, Lenora! What you did makes you a model constable in my book!”

“You’re the first person who’s put it like that.”

“Well, I hope I’m not the last!”

“Thanks for saying that, but I do believe I was doing my job. I’m not looking for an award. All I need to know is that I exposed a paedophile who thought he could manipulate his girlfriend into believing her teenage daughter was a liar! He’s behind bars now and on the se– that’s good enough for me!”

“Award recipient or not: I think CID could do with someone like you.”

“Maybe when DCI Oliver retires, I’ll think about it. I’m only twenty anyhow!”

“That never stopped me.”

“That’s true.”

Lenora parked outside Jade’s house but kept the engine running.

“You don’t need to do that”

“I don’t mind – I nearly arrested you for being drunk.”

“I would’ve done the same, Lenora. If you really want to wait for me, you’d better switch off your engine. I’m going to be at least three quarters of an hour.”

The boisterous purr of the motor ended abruptly as WPC Hardcastle moved the key anti-clockwise. DC Pryce was keeping both her eyes squarely on her front door. Lenora watched her go in and then reached over to the back seat to collect a magazine she’d bought yesterday.

Jade removed the fake WPC outfit in stages as she walked upstairs, savouring the thought of a shower. Cleansing herself was the sole thought she entertained on passing through the main door to her home. She was wearing nothing but her bra and panties when she reached the hallway on the first floor. They too were cast off and they floated down to the downstairs corridor from where she had dropped them. The door to the shower room was shut and rushing water was the next noise to come from the higher part of the house.

She was in the midst of letting the hot water coming through the nozzles. Sharply, Pryce’s memories of the night she chased after Harris exploded throughout her mind. The visions were compartmentalised, but free of distorted images. They fostered the disorientating sensation of her subconscious being thrust towards each recollection as if she were diving into it from a non-existent springboard. The first to have that feeling was the moment her brain had tried to rub out: Marcus exposing the one secret he had spent numerous generations hiding. The leap towards it was the scariest. Clouds of blood beneath water spread upwards rather than down. A red filter turned her vision scarlet and her eyes closed. She dropped to a crouching position in the shower and then she was haunted by a memory that wasn’t even hers. She was now locked into the mind of Kara, but she didn’t know this where her train of thought had transported her to. Jade saw her and the five other missing girls form their deadly circle around Steve. He was a stranger to her, though, and his presence in this tortuous daydream was an anomaly. The effect water had on blood came again and the moon rose up and everything went crimson again. She then felt as if she was flying over to the satellite. When the moon was the size of the Earth, Kara’s eyes opened where the largest of its craters was, and Jade felt herself tumbling down through the clouds. When they parted, she saw herself drain Leon of all the blood from his body. Jade’s eyes opened at the second prior to her landing on the pavement beside Harris. Her body reacted by falsely falling onto her knees, despite her being in that position anyway. She turned the shower off and briskly stepped from within. Facing the mirror, Jade, nude from head to toe, said through gritted teeth “I can’t be one...I can’t! They don’t fucking exist!” There was a moment of calm silence, but a replay of her killing the man who had, to all intents and purposes, killed her brought out a streak of rage. The knuckles on both her hands careered into the mirror, creating a fractured image of her reflection. A shard that had broken away had been embedded in one of the gaps between her fingers. She pulled it out and watched silently as the wound evaporated in a matter of seconds.

Thinking about the impossible way her hand healed was dominating the ordinary act of changing into clean clothes. It led to her choosing a combo of dark red coloured clothes: a thin cotton jacket, trousers that were reasonably snug and open topped high heel shoes were what her brain drove her to wear. She had a different one in mind, but her macabre vision gained the mental victory over her free will.

Breakfast at the dining table built for three people offered her no respite from the plague of malevolent images. All the edges of her mind possessed feint echoes of them. She was late in eating it: the time on the kitchen clock was 10:54.

“Shit! Fuck!” she bellowed. “Lenora’s waiting for me!”

The annoyance she was aiming at herself for keeping WPC Harcastle hanging around omitted to take account of the incredible and bizarre circumstances she was trying hard to comprehend. She wanted to let real life step back in and vanquish anything as weird as what she was experiencing this instant. Jade rushed out of her house and slammed the door. She hadn’t changed out of the choice of attire that was the outcome of her unfathomable turmoil. When she got in beside Lenora again, the female constable enquired “Why are you all in red?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps it suits my mood.”

However like nonsense it sounded, it was readily accepted by Lenora as a worthwhile explanation. She didn’t really challenge authority unless there was a solid moral argument for overstepping her professional boundaries.

“Are you in a bad mood, DC Pryce?”

“I’ll let you know, Hardcastle.”

By using the WPC’s surname, Jade had reverted to a less than happy outlook. She seldom used Christian names if something had caused to be pissed off. Her whole life had been overturned by discovering something she denied as existing did. This is turn meant she couldn’t speak of it at all, not without the outcome where she was sectioned under the mental health act. She was fighting against the side of her that wanted to select honesty all the way to Lister & Sons’ haulage yard – or what was left of it. Jade won a victory of sorts: she had let the reality of her dilemma sink in. The truth burning to be released wouldn’t be taken like that by anyone listening, save for one. She didn’t want to call Marcus, but her vision put him smack bang in the middle of her situation. About two blocks away from the street the emergency services sealed off from the public, Jade made the call that she was inwardly resisting making. He asked how she was before she could say her piece.

“How do you think I am? I’m coming over to Royal Bolton in an hour – you’ve made it absolutely necessary for us to talk!”

She hung up. Pryce had deliberately generalised the comment. She wished it to sound to Lenora that it was concerning the bust-up she’d had with him last night. The WPC took the bait and replied “Men always ask stupid questions when you’re trying to build bridges with them. My boyfriend does it every time! We’re the ultimate in on-off relationships, I can tell you!”

“What’s his name?”

“Steve. We’re off again, though.”

“What did he do?”

“Break his promise to ring me last night.”

“My advice to you would be...actually, ignore it! It’s daft issuing suggestions when I’m this unsure about my own romantic future.”

The only vehicles in the stretch of street Lenora parked at were like the one she was behind the wheel of. Jade didn’t see a single one that wasn’t sporting the word ‘police’ on the bonnet. DC Matthews joined Pryce as she and Lenora stepped onto the kerb.

“Are you ready to see a mini-Armageddon in Bolton, Jade?” he said.

“Matthews, don’t make it sound like a movie you’ve seen for the first time!” snapped DCI Oliver.

“Sorry sir.”

“Make yourself useful instead! Go and see if the CCTV around here succeeded in catching footage that might fill in the blanks about what happened at this place last night.”

“Yes sir.”

Donnie crossed the road and started walking up the street, one building at a time, to see if any of the exteriors of their upper floors had that kind of technology attached to those walls.

“Morning, DC Pryce – just about”

Stewart had gotten his dig about punctuality in early. What was preying on his mind now were the odd aspects of the structural damage inflicted upon the administration department.

“Can I take a closer look at the wreckage, sir?”

“Yeah, but be careful. The fire chief doesn’t think the remains of the structure are safe to be within at least one and a half feet of.”

She pocketed the advice relating to personal safety and went through the space that was presently without its’ security-conscious entrance. Three consecutive sniffs made her afraid she was about to have the distraction involving blood’s odour bother her once more, but it wasn’t a pungent smell. It was sweeter than that.

“Perfume” said Jade.

“I wondered what was going up my nose” said DI Nicholson. “Reminds me of what I bought my sister last Christmas. Don’t know what it’s doing here, though! It isn’t yours, is it?”

“No, I use a different-smelling perfume to the one wafting around, Graham.”

The sea of bricks and splintered concrete had gaps and Jade saw chunks of metal and canvas coverings – some with blood around their edges – making themselves visible through them. In a south-westerly direction to where she was surveying the scale of the damage, Jade spotted an intact portion of a wall measuring four foot, three inches tall. It was serrated and flakes of cement dust were drifting up into the air.

“It’s not the only one” said Angela.

“Have you just got here?”

“No, I’ve been here for nearly two-and-a-half hours, Jade. The reason you didn’t see me was because I was talking to Councillor Lister’s secretary – Anya Guildford.”

“What did she tell you?”

“Nothing – there wasn’t anything she could say! She heard about it like the rest of us.”

“Looks like an unexploded bomb went off here” Jade suggested, in the light of no other explanation seeming to be available.

“Very much doubt it, Jade.”

“Why?”

“Nobody living within a mile of here heard a blast.”

Korrell’s logic scared Jade. It opened up a fresh inconsistency in the chain of facts believed to be indisputable.

“They must’ve done” argued DC Pryce.

“Trust me Jade – they so didn’t hear an explosion!”

Fresh cracks were increasing in visibility along less than half of a ceiling attached to a left-hand wall. The strain placed upon that shattered structure was producing its own eerie noise.

“I think it’s about to give way” said DS Korrell.

“What are we waiting for” said Graham “We’d better move back into the street!”

The three officers who had taken the calculated risk to enter the yard ran out in single file. Six more cracks on the ruined ceiling set its demise in motion. The external impression of the roof going first was wrong. It was the wall that collapsed first, but it didn’t fall directly over: where the bottom came loose, part of the rougher edges caught the jagged line of the wall’s interior and it did bizarrely did six somersaults. The whole thing then crashed into the wall by the right-hand entrance. It descended onto the street rapidly. Some of the crowd rushed back and several women screamed as they thought they saw DC Pryce vanish under it. A handful of constables, including Lenora, all pointed at Jade. Korrell and Nicholson had pulled her away on the eve of the second collapse.

“Fuck – that was close!” said Angela breathlessly.

In a side-alley cafe, over an hour later, Jade was being treated to a strong coffee by DCI Oliver. He felt bad about not vetoing her entering the yard and was giving her compensation in the form of a hot beverage.

“You had a lucky escape” he said.

“It’s not your fault, sir” replied Jade. “Blame gravity – it’s easier.”

“I’ll bear that in mind, Pryce.”

“What caused this to happen? Angela as good as told me that there was no blast.”

“Sabotage” began DCI Oliver “of which I’ve never seen the like of. It must’ve taken two bulldozers, three wrecking ball vehicles and over thirty metal cutting saws to do what was done here!”

Stewart’s lack of sensible theories was absolute. The combined racket of all these engines in use together had to have been heard, and there was no way for him to understand why these sounds fell on deaf ears. Donnie returned from his sweep for CCTV devices over the road, and into the cafe, but with no good news to report to his boss.

“Christ, Angela just told me what happened” said Donnie. “Are you hurt, Jade?”

“I’m fine, Donnie – honestly.”

“Did you find any closed-circuit cameras?”

“There was only one, sir, but it had been vandalised – last night, I’d guess.”

“Get the forensic team to check it for prints. They need something to keep them busy until the site is declared safe.”

“I’ll give them a bell now, sir” said Matthews and he left the cafe.

Jade took a few more sips of her coffee prior to asking “Is it alright if I take care of some private, non-police work, business, sir?”

“Something has obviously pulled you through the emotion wringer before you were almost crushed by a toppling wall.”

“Quite a few things actually, sir” she stated mournfully.

“I knew something was up when you were late to work yesterday morning. Do you want to talk about it?”

She moved her cup clockwise.

“I guess you don’t.”

“Sorry, sir, but I’d prefer to have some distance between my personal life and the one I have in CID.”

“I know this is going to make the Chief Constable think I’ve gone soft, but I think you should take a few days off. To be honest, I think your head’s all over the place. Take that red business manager gear – that’s not your usual style.”

DC Pryce knew how right he was. He had demonstrated being wise to when she moved outside her most common traits.

“You’re spot on, sir: the clothes I’ve got on are to do with where my head’s at right this moment.”

Donnie re-entered.

“Sorry to drag you out of this cafe, but the Chief Constable is here, and some of the fire crew have found something you want to take a look at!”

Stewart marvelled at Matthews saying all that in one breath. He didn’t know that many people who could control their breathing to that degree.

“Are you going to be okay while I see what I’m wanted for by my superior and the others?

“I’ll be fine, sir. Let me give you a ring tomorrow.”

“Just call me to let me know when you’re coming back to work.”

Jade nodded a ‘yes’ and carried on trying to drink her coffee.  He departed and called to Donnie that he wanted him to get in touch with Lister again. Five more mouthfuls were downed and three more minutes of being seated passed before she weighed up whether or not she should renege on her effort to talk with Marcus. She should have set off for his house over forty minutes ago, but the impetus was slipping away.

“Fuck it! If I’m late turning up at his house, he’ll have to like it or lump it!”

With her two hands, she moved the chair back from under the table, so she could stand up on the first try. She only reached the next table down from hers. Meeting her halfway was Catherine. Two men in bank manager suits and ties were queued up behind her. They were stood in a manner that blocked any attempt Jade might have to get past them.

“I’m going to see Marcus, Cathy – not you! Do me a favour and get out of my fucking way!”

Catherine kept her face immovable for a moment. Responding to such a fiercely-worded command was as bad as issuing it.

“Did you not hear me, Cathy?”

“Loud and clear, but I’m not going to get out of your fucking way.”

“What are you going to do then?”

“Take you to where I work and to make you understand what you are.”

DC Pryce missed the disguised meaning in the dual intentions Catherine had listed.

“I know what I am! What makes you think I’m going to head there with you?”

“Because I am going to answer the question I refused to a couple of days ago.”

Jade considered the incentive for a moment. It sounded too good to be true, but she did not have a satisfactory motive to dismiss her offer as hollow.

“When we get there, I’ll give you thirty minutes of my time, but after that I’m seeing Marcus. That’s the bargain – take it or leave it!”

“My car’s waiting outside.”

In not offering any verbal agreement, Catherine had said yes to Jade’s terms. DC Pryce got up and let Ms Henfield’s pair of male associates escort her out of the cafe.