The Ghost Fields (Ruth Galloway) (20 page)

Nelson has a brief conversation and then turns to Sally. ‘Thank you for your time. We’ll be in touch. Hope you continue to feel better, Cassie.’ To Clough: ‘Let’s go.’

‘Where?’

‘I’ll tell you on the way.’

He explains as they walk back over the darkening fields. ‘We’re off to the pig farm. Chaz thinks that he’s found something in one of his pens.’

‘What?’ Clough grimaces.

‘Human teeth.’

CHAPTER 18

It’s dark by the time they reach the pig farm. The old control tower is a ghostly white shape in the middle of the first field but the other buildings have disappeared completely. One feeble light shines from the bungalow. Even the pigs are silent. Do they go to sleep at night? wonders Nelson. He knows nothing about pigs but he has an uneasy feeling that he’s about to learn more.

Chaz meets them at the door. He has a large torch in his hand.

‘Good of you to come,’ he says. ‘I hope this isn’t a wild goose chase.’

I hope so too, thinks Nelson. Aloud he says, ‘Perhaps you can tell us what you found.’

‘I’ll show you,’ says Chaz. He leads the way across the black fields, the torch illuminating a narrow pathway ahead. They walk in single file, Nelson trying to not hear Clough’s muffled groans and expletives. They reach one of the old hangers and Chaz fumbles to open what appears to be a huge door. Inside, there’s a smell of hay and animals and a sense of being in a massive space.

‘There’s a light,’ says Chaz. ‘Hang on a moment.’

The next minute the hanger is filled with cold white light. The building is divided into pens and, judging by the shuffling and grunting sounds, it seems that the pigs are waking up.

‘This is where I keep the growers and the finishers,’ says Chaz. ‘Young pigs,’ he says, probably noting the incomprehension on the faces of the two policemen. ‘Growers are pigs that have been weaned and are about to be sold.’

‘Sold for slaughter?’ asks Nelson, feeling rather insensitive saying these words in the presence of the animals. He hopes they aren’t listening.

‘Yes,’ says Chaz. ‘We’re a pretty small operation really. Free range. The pigs can wander about during the day but we keep them inside at night. They’re very happy.’

Until they’re slaughtered, thinks Nelson.

‘What are finishers?’ asks Clough.

‘Growers that have finished growing,’ says Chaz with a laugh. ‘They can be quite feisty so we keep them here away from the sows and the piglets.’

Nelson dreads to think what a feisty pig looks like.

‘Can you tell us where you found the teeth?’ he asks.

‘Here.’ Chaz gestures at the nearest pen, which is empty. ‘I had four or five growers in here. I fed them this morning but didn’t let them out because the weather was so foul. When I came to feed them this evening, I saw that they were snuffling in the corner of the pen as if they were feeding on something. I went to have a look and I saw some . . . well, some remains. I got the pigs out of the pen – took some doing, actually – and telephoned the police station. I was told you were at Blackstock Hall so I called there.’

Nelson steps into the pen. One look is enough. In the corner of the pen are some bones that look distinctly human.

‘Here are the teeth,’ says Chaz. ‘I put them in a bucket.’ He rattles the pail cheerfully. Again, one look is enough.

‘We need to seal off the site,’ says Nelson. ‘I’ll get the Scene of the Crime boys here in the morning.’

Clough, who has been maintaining a stunned silence, says, ‘Are you telling me that these pigs could have eaten someone?’

‘It’s possible,’ says Chaz, sounding apologetic on the animals’ behalf. ‘Pigs are omnivorous, you see. They would eat a human body if there was one to hand. And the growers are always hungry.’

‘Jesus.’ Clough sounds like he’s about to be sick.

‘But you checked them in the morning,’ says Nelson. ‘Could they eat a body that fast?’

‘Oh yes,’ says Chaz. ‘They could strip a body to the bone in minutes.’

‘I think I’ll wait outside,’ says Clough.

Michelle and Tim are sitting side by side in the jacuzzi. They are, basically, having a bath together but nobody – not even Nelson, should he make an unprecedented visit to the leisure centre – could accuse them of impropriety. Sometimes these sessions are agony for Tim but tonight, feeling Michelle’s leg against his, he wishes that they could stay there for ever. There is something cosy about being in this brightly lit space at night. The pool is almost empty but they can hear salsa music filtering through from a dancercise class. The glass roof shows the night sky and the stars.

‘Are you happy?’ he asks. As soon as he says it, he knows that he’s asked the wrong question. The thought of being happy with him invariably makes Michelle feel guilty about Nelson.

‘I can’t be happy,’ she says. ‘Not while all this is going on.’

‘But nothing is going on,’ says Tim.

Michelle sighs and leans back, her long blonde hair floating out in the foamy water.

‘Please don’t start that conversation again.’

‘Why not?’ Tim feels his good mood ebbing away as the bubbles seep from the jacuzzi, leaving the surface flat. They should get out now but they both stay where they are.

‘Nothing is going on,’ he continues. ‘We’re having an affair but we’re not having an affair.’

‘If we’re not having an affair,’ says Michelle, ‘then why do I feel so guilty?’

‘Maybe you’d feel less guilty if we actually slept together,’ says Tim. Well, it’s worth a try.

He half thinks that she’s going to walk out. He imagines her storming away to the ladies’ changing rooms, the water dripping off her hair and swimming costume. In a way, he wants it to happen. Michelle has never really been angry with him though she sometimes mentions arguing with Nelson. If she really loved him, surely they’d fight sometimes?

But instead Michelle looks at him seriously, smoothing back her hair with one hand. Her unadorned face is heart-stoppingly beautiful.

‘Harry has to go on a training course in December,’ she says. ‘If he does, maybe we can spend the night together.’

CHAPTER 19

Ruth gets the telephone call just after she has dropped Kate off at school. When she sees the name on the screen, she stops in a lay-by and presses call return.

‘Hi, Nelson. What is it?’

‘Hallo, Ruth. Fancy coming to look at some human remains?’

‘Tempting,’ says Ruth. ‘Where are they?’

‘At a pig farm on Lockwell Heath. But here’s the twist. The pig farm is owned by Chaz Blackstock.’

‘Have you got SOCO there? You won’t need me.’

‘Always good to have a second opinion. Besides, I thought you might be interested.’

Ruth considers. She doesn’t have any lectures until the afternoon but she had planned to get into the office early and make a start on her end-of-term marking. All the same, Lockwell Heath is very near. It’s practically on the way to the university.

‘I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,’ she says.

When she gets to the pig farm, the SOCO team have already got to work. There’s an awning over the entrance to one of the huge barns and white-coated figures are moving purposefully to and fro. Nelson and Clough are standing by Nelson’s car. When she gets closer, she realises that Clough is eating a bacon sandwich.

‘Not very tactful,’ she says.

‘You should have seen him last night,’ says Nelson. ‘He was almost sick when Chaz was telling us about the piggies’ eating habits.’

‘They eat us,’ says Clough thickly, ‘I eat them. It’s only justice.’

‘Is that was this is about?’ says Ruth. ‘Pigs eating a human body? I’ve read about that. A farmer in America was eaten by his own boars.’

‘We’re not sure what’s happened yet,’ says Nelson. He’s always very careful about not jumping to conclusions. It’s one of the things that Ruth admires about him.

‘Chaz called us in yesterday,’ Nelson continues. ‘He found his pigs eating something. When he looked more closely, he thought it could be human remains. There’s not much left.’ He glances at Clough. ‘Just some bones and a few teeth.’

‘We should be able to tell if they’re human or not,’ says Ruth. ‘And we should be able to get some DNA too. This is a bit of a weird place, isn’t it?’

‘It used to be an American airbase,’ says Nelson. He gestures towards the barns. ‘These were the hangars. Didn’t you see the control tower on your way in?’

‘I saw something,’ says Ruth. In truth, she had been so concerned with not missing the turn-off for the farm that she’d hardly noticed her surroundings. She vaguely remembers a building with its windows boarded up. And, come to think of it, the driveway had been unusually long and straight. Was that the runway? She thinks for a moment. Lockwell Heath . . . American airbase . . .

‘Hang on,’ she says, ‘was this the base where –’

‘Where Fred Blackstock was stationed?’ says Nelson. ‘Got it in one.’

Ruth looks around her with new eyes. Behind the hangars, the flat fields stretch away as far as the eye can see. She tries to imagine the sky filled with planes, heading out across the sea. To what? To certain death in many cases, Fred Blackwell’s included. The ghost fields. She shivers.

‘Are you cold?’ says Nelson. Although the wind is not as strong as it was yesterday, there’s still a chill in the air.

‘I’m OK,’ says Ruth. ‘I’d better get going. I suppose I should get some coveralls.’

Ruth detests wearing coveralls but she knows that the SOCO team will insist. She introduces herself to the senior officer and climbs into the paper jumpsuit. Great. Now they can fly her above the field as a windsock.

Inside the barn, the remains have been carefully numbered and bagged. Usually Ruth prefers to see bones in situ, but in this case she imagines that there was very little to learn from the context. Anyway, there isn’t much left: a few pieces of what look like skull and leg bones and a handful of teeth.

‘They’re human, aren’t they?’ says the senior officer, a pleasant man called Mike Halloran.

Ruth nods. ‘Yes, one tooth has even been filled. An old fashioned aluminium filling too, which may help with dating.’

‘We can send them for DNA testing,’ says Mike. ‘Might help us identify the poor sod.’

‘Was there anything else?’ asks Ruth. ‘Fragments of clothing? Anything that might have fallen out of a pocket?’

‘No, nothing,’ says Mike cheerfully. ‘Pigs did a pretty thorough job.’

‘Blood?’

‘A bit on the floor of the pen and some blood-stained straw. We’ve bagged it up.’

‘Might help with the DNA.’

‘Yes, but that only helps with identification if the deceased was on a register somewhere. My guess is that it was some poor down-and-out who crept in here to get out of the storm.’

Nelson shares this opinion. ‘We’ll search the missing persons database,’ he says, as Ruth divests herself of the hated coveralls, ‘but nobody’s been reported missing recently. I think we’re looking at a vagrant, someone who’s not on any list anywhere. Poor bastard. He certainly picked the wrong place for a kip.’

Ruth thinks this sounds all too likely but Clough says, ‘I don’t like it, boss.’

‘Don’t worry, Cloughie,’ says Nelson. ‘I won’t let the nasty piggies get you.’

Clough ignores this but stands his ground. ‘I don’t like the Blackstock connection. First Cassandra Blackstock gets attacked and then a body’s found on her brother’s farm. It’s a coincidence and you always say you don’t believe in coincidence.’

Nelson can hardly deny this. Even Ruth has heard him make this statement. He says, in a more serious tone, ‘We’re investigating the attack on Cassandra but it’s hard to see a link to this death. I agree though. We should watch the Blackstocks.’

‘Taking my name in vain?’ Chaz Blackstock has made an almost noiseless appearance, looming up from the shadow of the barn wearing a long black raincoat. Ruth is struck again by how dramatic he looks, with his dark hair and intensely blue eyes. He also reminds her of someone.

‘Just finishing off here,’ says Nelson breezily.