The Reckoning on Cane Hill: A Novel (34 page)

‘Except we know that the people we’re looking for are pretty good at staging scenes like that. Substituting one body for another.’

‘Mark.’ Pete shook his head. ‘I’m going to need more.’

Mercer was still wandering the perimeter of the room, looking at the various documents on display. I didn’t think he’d been paying the slightest attention to me, but now his voice drifted over.

‘He’s right, Pete.’

‘Right about what?’

‘David Groves isn’t dead,’ I said. ‘And I don’t think his son is either.’

The silence from that settled in the room for a few seconds.

‘Right.’ Pete sighed. ‘Start at the beginning.’

I did.

‘Here’s what I think.’ I clicked through so the plasma screen showed the timeline I’d developed. ‘I think we’re looking at two very distinct groups of people at work.’

The first was an organised gang of predatory paedophiles. The membership included Rebecca Lawrence, Edward Leland, Carl Thompson, Laura Harrison, Paul Carlisle and – at least to some extent – Simon Chadwick. Over a period of several years, the group had abducted and abused a number of children of various ages, some of whom it was likely they had also murdered. We’d never identified all the children in the photographs that had been recovered.

‘Our second group,’ I said, ‘amounts to a kind of cult.’

We didn’t know how many people were involved, although there were clearly several, with perhaps two at the top – the individuals Charlie Matheson had described as God and the Devil. They weren’t
really
those things, of course; they were just men. But the group had been abducting people and subjecting them to their own version of Hell. Bad people who hadn’t been caught, and who needed to wear their sins to repent. If Charlie were to be believed, there was even a Heaven of a kind. In their own minds, these people seemed to be creating their own version of the afterlife here on earth.

‘We don’t know who they are,’ I said, ‘but we know they have money and patience, and that they’ve been active and well organised for a long time. There’s also evidence that they’re connected to the man we knew as the 50/50 Killer – that perhaps this is where he came from. We know the 50/50 Killer was highly organised too, and that he stalked and researched his targets for lengthy periods of time. We know he was religiously motivated, to some extent, and independently wealthy. All that tallies.’

I glanced over at Mercer as I said this, but again, he had his back to me and seemed not to be listening. He was studying the information on the walls as though it was ancient hieroglyphs that he could make sense of if he looked at them for long enough.

Pete was staring at my timeline.

‘And the connection?’ he said.

‘Is that at some point, the second group – this cult – became aware of the first.’

‘When? How?’

‘I don’t know. I’m guessing it was when Laila Buckingham was abducted. I think that was certainly the moment they became aware of David Groves. But we know they have money, resources, determination. They’re actively looking for sinners. Maybe they started making connections that we didn’t, or
following up on things we couldn’t. Monitoring people in ways that just aren’t open to us. Putting together the pieces. ‘

‘And then?’

‘And then the first group targeted Jamie Groves.’

I couldn’t be certain about this, but I thought that it had to have been Rebecca Lawrence who stole Jamie away from his garden, and that it was at this point that our second group had intervened. Lawrence had then been held captive until the car crash, when her resemblance to Charlie Matheson had proved useful in making the substitution.

‘What makes you so sure Jamie Groves is still alive?’

‘Again, I don’t know for sure,’ I said. ‘There are two options that I can see. Lawrence could have killed him herself, but I don’t think she would have done that alone, and she was the only member of the gang that went missing that day. I think it’s more likely that our
second
group took Jamie – that they decided they wanted him for some reason. Maybe it was a spur-of-the-moment thing at that point. But I think David Groves is the key to all of this now.’

Pete frowned.

‘So then they wait three years to deal with the rest of the gang?’

‘Five years in total,’ I said. ‘If we include Paul Carlisle.’

‘All right. Why?’

It was a good question, and for now, I only had a partial answer. I looked at the timeline on the screen.

‘We know they framed David Groves. And I believe they abducted him too. That would all have taken time to organise. But the dates themselves might be crucial.’

My son’s not one yet, but all through the search I kept trying to imagine how it would feel if he was Laila’s age and had been taken from me. How I’d do absolutely anything to get him back
.

‘Laila was eight years old when she was taken. Jamie Groves would have turned eight two days ago. I believe that something was supposed to happen then – and that Charlie was meant to
set it in motion – but it got delayed. And I think it might be some kind of test for David Groves.’

‘A test?’

I shook my head. ‘We know these people are obsessed with Heaven and Hell, and right and wrong, and Groves was painted in the press as a good man. A religious man. A hero. He said he’d do anything to get his son back. I think maybe they want to see whether that’s true.’

‘Have him prove his love,’ Mercer said.

I didn’t reply. Because if that was the case, then once again, the parallels to the 50/50 Killer would be there.

Pete was looking over at his old boss.

‘But why ask for John?’ he said quietly. ‘What’s the point?’

‘Maybe it’s not as complicated as it seems,’ I said. ‘If this is where the 50/50 Killer came from – his family, let’s say – then they would obviously have a grudge against John. Perhaps they just wanted him to understand about David Groves. That he didn’t die. That he was wrongly convicted. That he’s been held in captivity ever since. That John got it wrong, which means an innocent man – a good man – has been suffering all this time.’

I glanced over at Mercer.

‘Maybe they just wanted to rub John’s face in that.’

Although Mercer still had his back to me, I could see that he was processing the possibility, and that it hurt him. His head was bowed slightly.

‘Yes,’ he said.

For a moment, nobody else said anything. Everyone’s focus was on Mercer, while he stared at the wall in front of him, or through it. After a few seconds, Pete turned to look at me.

‘But we still don’t know where this place is?’

‘No.’

‘So if David Groves really
is
still alive – and if his son is too – then we have no way to get to them?’

I shook my head. ‘Our best bet probably is tracking Charlie. She’s convinced she’ll be taken back there – to Heaven this time, to be reunited with her daughter – so they’d have to
collect her at some point. But we don’t know when. We don’t even know
if
.’

‘And we know how careful they’ve been,’ Simon said.

Which was uncomfortable, but true. As things stood, we had no way of tracing these individuals and finding any of the people they were holding captive. It was possible we never would. And whether my theories were accurate or way off the mark, we might never know for sure.

Mercer broke the silence that followed.

‘What’s this?’ he said softly.

‘What’s what?’

I walked over to where he was standing, and saw he was pointing at one of the sheets tacked to the wall.

‘Oh, that’s nothing. It’s a list of hospitals vaguely in the search area. I wanted to make sure Charlie Matheson hadn’t just wandered off from one.’

‘Yes, but why are most of them crossed out?’

‘Those are the ones the officers contacted about missing patients.’

‘But not all of them are. Look.’

He pointed at one of the names on the list, and then another. There were four in total. Instead of crossing them out, whichever officer had made the calls had scribbled something next to them.

‘CD?’ Mercer said.

‘I’m not sure.’ I shook my head. ‘Closed down, perhaps. I don’t know where they got the list from. Why?’

‘Cane Hill Hospital.’

Mercer tapped the paper with the back of his finger, then walked over to one of the desks, leaving me to peer at the line he’d indicated.
Cane Hill Hospital – CD
. The name meant absolutely nothing to me. I looked at Pete, and he shook his head. Him neither.

Mercer was leaning over, working through the file he’d brought with him.

‘What are you thinking, John?’ I said.

‘One of the identities I discovered for the 50/50 Killer. Wait. Here it is.’ He pulled out a couple of documents and read from them. ‘From a car rental. He gave his name as Nicholas Cane.’

‘That’s pretty thin, John,’ Pete said.

‘Isn’t it.’ Mercer walked back to the wall beside me, then spoke almost idly over his shoulder. ‘Greg, can you access the files for Gordon Peters, the doctor who was found murdered this morning?’

Greg hesitated.

‘Sure. But I remember the list of hospitals. Peters never worked anywhere called Cane Hill.’

‘That’s not what I’m asking. Check his
own
medical records.’

‘His—’

‘His medical records, Greg.’ Mercer sounded impatient now, still staring at the list of hospitals. ‘Gordon Peters. Can you do that or not?’

Greg looked over at Pete, who stared back at him for a moment, then nodded almost imperceptibly. Greg raised his eyebrows.

‘I can try.’

I moved over to a spare desk and set to work on my tablet, putting Cane Hill Hospital into an internet search engine. As the pages loaded, I glanced up. Mercer was still staring at the list of hospitals, his head inclined slightly, as though he was seeing patterns that nobody else could see.

‘Got them,’ Greg said.

‘He stayed at Cane Hill,’ Mercer said. ‘Didn’t he?’

Greg didn’t reply.

I looked between them all – Greg, Pete and Mercer – and then back at the tablet in front of me. The search page had loaded, and the top link referenced
Cane Hill Psychiatric Hospital
. I clicked on it and began reading through the information there.

When I looked up again, nobody else in the office had spoken. They all seemed to be in exactly the same position as the last time I’d looked. My heart was beating fast. There was
a sense of magic to the air, and now the inside of my chest was glittering with it.

I kept my eyes on Mercer, but he was completely motionless as I spoke. He didn’t even seem to register the words.

‘I think we’ve found it,’ I said.

Eileen

No such thing as a happy ending

When Eileen heard the front door quietly open, the panic she had been feeling abated slightly. She resisted the urge to get off the settee and rush through to the hallway. Instead, she sipped from the glass of wine she’d poured herself and waited, confident that today John would come to find her, and not vanish upstairs as he so often did.

She heard him bolt and chain the front door, then the gentle sound of him slipping off his shoes. Slow movements. She sipped her wine. A few moments later, the door to the front room opened and he stepped inside.

Eileen wanted to seethe at him – she
was
furious – but she still found herself looking him over with concern, checking for signs that something had gone wrong, and that he was in danger of collapse. Of course, it didn’t work like that; any damage done would be more slow-burn, and it would emerge in the days and weeks to come. Nevertheless, she was relieved to see that he seemed like himself – or, at least, the way he’d been recently. His expression was blank, unreadable, and as he walked across the room and stood in front of her, his gait was awkward, but no more so than before.

Thank God
.

She took another sip of her wine, then put the glass down.

‘Well?’

‘You know where I’ve been today,’ he said.

‘I have a pretty good idea, yes.’ Her heart was beating a little too fast, and she was pleased by the amount of disdain she managed to get into her voice. ‘I hope it was worth it.’

He nodded slowly, then put his hands into his trouser pockets and stared down at the floor. In the early evening gloom of the lounge, he struck her as a miserable, grey figure, penitent and subdued. But it also reminded her of his former self. She had often seen him, back when he was well, standing like that, staring down at nothing, lost in thought, his mind turning over some problem in ways other people struggled to follow, viewing it from angles they could never even begin to imagine.

‘All right.’ She picked up the glass again. ‘Tell me.’

And so he did, the whole time just standing there, still not looking at her. He told her what Charlie Matheson had said, what they’d found at Paul Carlisle’s house, the way it tied in to the 50/50 Killer investigation.

‘Why did they ask for you?’ she said.

He shrugged, and for the first time, his expression changed from blank. He looked miserable now. Exhausted.

‘I don’t matter,’ he said. ‘It’s a coincidence that I’m the one that handled the Groves case. There’s something larger going on with that, but releasing Charlie Matheson, having her ask for me ... I think it was only ever a sideshow. A way of taking a small amount of revenge on me for the 50/50 case. They wanted me to know that I’d failed him. David Groves. That I got it wrong.’ The sadness on his face intensified. ‘But that’s all, I think. In the grand scheme of things, I never really mattered.’

That’s not true
, she thought.

‘Has there been any progress?’

‘I think so, yes. I think they’ve found the place they’re looking for.’

‘That’s good news. It means you can finish your book. Maybe it will even have a happy ending after all.’

He didn’t reply, and she could tell she’d hurt him. That was
awful, wasn’t it? Beneath her. And the words had felt ridiculous even as she’d said them, because what happy ending could there ever be? Certainly not for David Groves, or any of the other people involved. Not for John, either. There was no such thing as a happy ending. Things stopped, or else they were abandoned and left behind, and life continued without them. When this case was closed, the damage it had caused people would continue. Even if John wrote the last word in his book and closed the cover, it wouldn’t really seal anything away. You could attempt to draw any line you wanted, but wet ink always seeped down the page.