Secrets and Lies

With the waitress in the way I only caught one last glimpse of the two men as they exited the pub, and due to the way the front doors were set up I couldn't even tell which way they went once they were outside. And naturally my first reaction was to go after them. They were obviously involved in the case, and I'd just heard them conspiring to tamper with or destroy evidence. Fortunately my common sense kicked in and I immediately dismissed that idea.

Not that I was some sort of delicate flower, despite my floral name. I was in excellent shape, stronger than I looked, and had enough martial arts training that I was confident I could handle myself in most situations. But not this one. This was a little too dangerous, and even before my transformation I wouldn't have been so reckless.

Whether those men were suspects or just persons of interest, this case involved a trail of bodies and a half dozen missing people. Chasing off on my own after a couple unknown suspects in an unfamiliar location was way too risky. And anyways, it's not like I was going to follow them on foot all the way to Whitby. So I needed to take a breath, calm down, and call for backup.

And that's when I finally realized the waitress was still standing next to me, and she seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

"Sorry?" I grimaced as I focused on her again.

"Can I get you anything else? More lager?" she repeated herself. "Or are you all set here?"

I glanced at my dinner then asked, "Could I get a glass of cola please? And the bill. I'm probably going to be called away in a hurry, so I'd like to take care of that now rather than forget and dash off later without paying."

As soon as she'd left to deal with that my attention turned to my phone again, and I started composing a text to Inspector Carter. I included the clearest picture I'd managed to get of the two men, and a brief explanation that I'd overheard them talking about tampering with evidence at the morgue in Whitby.

With that sent off there wasn't much more I could do for now, so I finally got started on my meal. Which was pretty good, the pastry was light and flaky on top, while the filling was rich and hearty with lots of chicken and vegetables inside. I was only a couple bites into it when the waitress returned with my soda and the bill, so I paused to get some cash out of my purse. Then I managed another fork-full or two before the next interruption, when my phone started ringing.

Sure enough it was the inspector, and as soon as I saw his name on the display I answered. "Sorry to interrupt your evening sir."

"Not at all Sharpe," he replied. "Sounds like you're still in the pub? I'll be there to collect you in ten minutes. Meet me out front."

"Yes sir," I nodded as I checked the time.

It was about half past six, so I spent the next nine minutes or so enjoying what I could of my dinner. I only got about halfway through before time ran out. I had a couple quick gulps of cola, grabbed my phone and purse, then hurried out the front door. My timing was almost perfect, as Carter's old Rover rumbled up to a stop in front of me just a couple seconds later. I climbed up into the passenger seat, and we were off again as soon as I'd closed the door.

"I recognized one of those fellows in the picture you sent," Carter stated as we sped east out of town. "The tall one with the dark hair. He was snooping around where the sixth body was found. I asked what he was up to, he claimed he was just in the area and was curious. I had a feeling he might be lying, but there wasn't anything incriminating about him."

I quickly did my seatbelt up then asked, "Did you get a name or anything? I assume you looked him up?"

The inspector nodded, "Martin Smith, from Croydon. Claimed to be an insurance adjuster, taking a two-week holiday up this way for some quiet time to clear his head. He said he's an amateur author, and time away from the city helped him with his novels or some such."

That left me frowning, "There's something about that name that rings a bell. I swear I've come across it somewhere before."

"It almost feels like a fake name maybe?" I added thoughtfully. "Although I suppose neither 'Martin' or 'Smith' are terribly unique. There's probably a hundred of them in south London."

He asked, "You think you've crossed paths with him before? On a case maybe?"

I considered that for a moment then shook my head, "I'm sure I've never seen him before. And from what I overheard, I think if he recognized me things would have played out differently."

"Is it safe to be driving this fast at night?" I added in a slightly worried tone. "And on this road?"

Carter kept his eyes forward as he replied calmly, "Don't worry detective, I know these roads and I know where we're going. Call it a bit of a short-cut, it'll shave a half dozen kilometres off. It might not be enough to beat them there, but we may get lucky. Especially if they're following GPS directions and obeying the speed limits."

"So about these men," he continued, "Your text said they were going to tamper with the body. Was there anything else? Or what exactly did they say?"

It didn't take long to relay everything I'd heard. Then I added, "These guys have to part of some kind of organization. They mentioned keeping an office updated on their activities. And someone named Terry was providing them information. They knew I was coming here to help out, apparently they even got a scan of my warrant card! For once I'm glad the Met's taking their time on that, it means those two are looking out for a 'me' that doesn't exist anymore."

At that point I frowned slightly, "If we take everything they said at face value then they're probably not responsible for the deaths, or the disappearances. It sounded more like they're searching for whoever's behind it, just like we are. Although it also sounded like they're trying to cover it up."

"Tampering with evidence is a serious crime," Carter stated. His voice had a hard edge to it as he added, "And if their cover-up contributed to Harry's death then as far as I'm concerned they're complicit. Either way I mean to have a serious conversation with those two. Whether we do that at the station in Whitby or our office in Castleton I really don't care."

I couldn't argue with that. Although there was one other point that had me confused, "The way they were talking made it almost sound like they think some sort of animal's behind this. They even referred to it as a 'it'. And they were debating whether or not it might be intelligent."

"That's a load of rubbish," the inspector scoffed. "If all this was the work of some sort of animal then where'd it come from? What kind of animal could do this? And why'd it only become active in August?"

"I don't know sir," I shook my head. "Unless there were other cases, and they got covered up. Or this thing might have been on the move for a while, and only just decided to settle down here in August."

It looked like he had something to say about my speculation, but was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing.

"Would you mind getting that for me please detective? It's in my left coat pocket. Go ahead and put it on speaker if you would?"

No surprise that his vehicle was too old for anything as cutting-edge as bluetooth. I suppressed a smile as I carefully retrieved the mobile from his trench coat, then swiped it and tapped the speaker icon.

"Carter here," he answered.

"It's Maureen," Dr. O'Conner replied. "I got your message and I've already forward it to building security."

After a brief pause she added, "It sounds like you're in that rolling antique of yours. I take it you're on your way there now?"

He nodded, "Detective Sharpe and I should be there in about fifteen minutes. With some luck we'll be right on time to catch them in the act."

The doctor sighed, "Please be careful James. Whatever these people are up to, they've already left a half dozen bodies in their wake. And there's as many men still missing. I'd hate for you and your new detective to end up on that list as well."

"We'll be fine," Carter promised. "Anyways I have to go Maureen. I'll call you later, let you know how it turns out."

"You'd better," she replied, before ending the call.

I tried to suppress a smile as I commented, "Sounds like you and Dr. O'Conner have a pretty good working relationship. How long have you known her?"

He glanced at me before replying, "Ten or eleven years now I suppose. Since before I made detective, let alone inspector. And she was just a junior pathologist working in the ME's office."

I couldn't help wondering if there was more going on between the two of them, but considering I'd literally only just met James Carter this afternoon it was hardly my place to ask. On the other hand we were stuck in the car together for the next little while, so maybe it was as good a time as any to try and get to know the guy a little better. Except it turned out he was thinking the same thing, and he beat me to it.

"Seeing as we've got some time before we reach Whitby why don't you tell me a bit about yourself, detective? If you don't mind that is. Anyone special waiting for you back in London?"

"No sir," I shook my head. "The past few years I've mostly been focused on the job, and on figuring myself out."

Carter nodded slowly, "Ah. Can't really comment on the second point, but the first one's an ongoing risk in our line of work. The job can take over, and consume us if we're not careful. I'm self-aware enough to recognize that this case is doing it to me. I think once we've cracked it I'm going to book myself some vacation time, to try and clear my head and disengage from it all for a while."

"That sounds like a good idea sir," I agreed. Then I asked, "Anyone special waiting for you at home? I noted you aren't wearing a ring, but I know some men prefer not to."

He sounded a little melancholy as he replied, "There was once, but not for many years. My wife passed away young, before we had the chance to start a family. I suppose the loss hit me hard, so I've kept focused on the career ever since."

I sighed and gave him a compassionate look, "I'm so sorry sir. I didn't mean to -"

"It's fine detective," Carter insisted. "I'm the one who started asking personal questions, not you."

He had a point there, but I still felt bad about it. That's pretty much where the conversation ended, and not long after that the small dark country lane we'd been on finally merged with a larger and better-maintained motorway. The rest of the drive continued in silence, at least until we reached Whitby.

"Is the morgue attached to the hospital here?" I asked as we turned off the A171 and headed towards the centre of town.

The inspector shook his head, "Nearby but not attached. The medical examiner's facilities are in one of the municipal blocks at Springhill. Next to the police station and the council offices."

After another minute or two we pulled into a private carpark in an alley between a small cluster two- and three-story government buildings. As he killed the engine Carter gestured, "The ME's office is in there, on the second floor."

Before I could respond I was distracted by the 'ding' of the lift as the doors slid open to reveal the building's main lobby. It was dimly lit, with the only light source being by the desk where a security guard was probably stationed. However there was nobody there now, which seemed odd.

In fact something felt off about the entire situation, and I glanced to my right where Carter was staring at the empty lobby with a confused frown on his face.

"Why did we stop here?" the inspector asked, although it sounded like me was talking to himself. He reached out and tapped the appropriate button as he added, "The ME's office is on the second floor."

I nodded slowly, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. As the lift doors slid closed again I asked, "Wouldn't we have got on the lift in the lobby? It doesn't make sense that we'd end up back there again."

His brow furrowed, "We shouldn't be taking the lift at all. Stairs are usually quicker in this building."

"Something's wrong Sharpe," he added a moment later. "I don't remember entering the building, let alone getting in the lift."

Before I could respond I was distracted by the 'ding' of the lift as the doors slid open to reveal the second floor landing. That led to a wave of deja-vu, and I couldn't help feeling like the inspector and I had been there before. Except there was someone else there as well this time.

A young man in a security uniform was standing in the middle of the landing, facing us. He held his torch pointed our way as though he wanted to shine it in our faces, except it was turned off. And even more worrying, he didn't appear to be moving at all.

"Careful," Carter whispered as he cautiously emerged from the lift.

I followed, but while he moved to the right I edged to the left. The security guard remained motionless in front of us, staring intently at the lift as the doors slid closed again behind us. The man didn't seem to be aware of either the inspector or myself as we slowly circled around him, as if he was completely fixated on the doors behind us for some reason. At least he was still breathing, I noted with some relief.

Then I glanced back to make sure he wasn't staring at something sneaking up on us, and that's when I noticed the clock on the wall. My gut lurched and I fished my phone out to double-check, because there's no way it could be that late.

"Carter," I whispered. "It's almost ten o'clock! Wasn't it about seven when we got here?"

He frowned, "A few minutes minutes past, I checked the time when we reached the carpark. It can't be ten."

There was a distinctly cold heavy feeling in my gut as I gestured at the wall clock, "Look at the time. I can't help feeling like we've been riding up and down on that lift for the past two and a half hours."

"That's -" he started to respond when we both got the shock of our lives.

"Ah!" the security guard suddenly yelped in shock, as though he'd just come to his senses. He stumbled backwards a couple paces and clicked on his torch as he demanded, "Where the blazes did you two come from?! You scared me half to death!"

Carter and I exchanged a glance, then he pulled out his mobile to check the time for himself.

"Damn it," he scowled. "What the hell happened, how is this possible? We only just got here!"

I sighed and shook my head, "I don't know sir. But something tells me we're far too late to stop those men."