The Valley 41

‘Not really,’ Lemark admitted in a strained voice. ‘And the hospital definitely isn’t happy with me being here, they were very much against releasing me. I had to insist. I’ve got a job to do and I’m not the sort to give up until the job’s done. How are you feeling this morning?’ he asked in a change of subject. ‘About as well as can be expected,’ Melissa admitted. Her collar was undone because it irritated the bruises around her throat where she had been strangled, and a large dressing covered the sizeable knife wound on her cheek that had required five stitches to close. ‘I don’t think I’m going to be all that quick about getting things done today, but I’m fit enough to work. I’d rather be here than at home feeling sorry for myself anyway,’ she said, especially since if she stayed at home she would have to put up with the fuss her gran, and her mum when she got there, would make. ‘What the hell happened to the two of you?’ Josh asked from his position behind the counter when he saw the inspector and his fellow constable make their slow, obviously painful way, across towards the security door. ‘You both look as though you’ve been through hell.’ ‘I’d say that’s a pretty fair description,’ Melissa croaked. ‘It sure felt like hell,’ She unlocked the security door and made her way through the rear of the police station without actually answering her colleague’s question; she had no interest in relating everything that she and Lemark had been through during the night, not only would it take too long, but talking was painful and she intended doing as little of it as she could. Josh watched Melissa and the inspector head down the passage, his curiosity far from satisfied. The phone rang before he could try again to find out what had happened during the night, though, and he quickly turned back to the counter to answer it. ‘Doring Draad Police Station, how can I help you?’ ‘Inspector, I think you should take this,’ he called down the passage after listening to what the caller had to say for a few moments. ‘Who is it?’ Lemark asked as he took two strides back towards the counter and immediately had to slow down because of the pain. ‘It’s Jack Wild,’ Josh answered. ‘He says Kerwin Wright tried to kill his sister, Tara, a short while ago and that he all but confessed to his sister that he’s responsible for the murders.’ Lemark’s step stuttered for a moment as he blinked at the constable. Of all the things he might have pictured happening this morning, this wasn’t on the list. When he reached the counter, he took the phone. ‘Mr Wild, DI Lemark, would you mind repeating what you just told Constable Josh?’ He listened intently to what Wild had to say, taking it all in despite his amazement - he was sceptical, he had never found it easy to believe it when one suspect tried to convince him that another was guilty, but there was enough about the story that ran true for him to accept what he was being told. Whether he believed it or not, he realised he couldn’t afford to just ignore what he had been told, he had to check it out. ‘Thank you, Mr Wild, we’ll be there as quickly as we can. Please keep Miss Wright there, and if you see her brother leave the farm again, call us.’ Hanging up the phone Lemark turned to the two constables. His mind raced as he made plans, and he wished that he was back in town where there would be more options available to him. He considered calling his superior for support, after the way the operation at the hospital had gone it seemed appropriate, but he didn’t like the thought of giving Kerwin Wright, if he was the killer, time to make plans of his own or even to get away. Besides, he figured there was only one way out from the farm, so long as they were sensible and careful he wouldn’t be able to get away. ‘James, I want you to come with me, now.’ Lemark told Melissa. ‘Josh, I want you to call everyone who works at the station and get them out to Mr Wild’s as soon as possible, we’ll be going on to the Wright Farm from there. Except Inspector Stevens, I want you tell him to call the chief Inspector and ask for backup to be sent out here straight away. I don’t want to wait for it but I do want it on its way here ASAP in case it’s needed.’ He sincerely hoped it wouldn’t be. He was reasonably confident that the four healthy officers that the station had available would be able to subdue Kerwin Wright; if he was the killer then Lemark was sure he had to know the game was up and that resisting would only make his situation worse. ‘When you’ve finished with the phone calls, I want you out at Wild’s as well,’ ‘Yes, sir,’ Josh said, though he was not happy with the thought of taking part in the arrest of a vicious murderer; he wasn’t a coward, but he had heard what the killer - Kerwin Wright apparently - had done to his victims and he didn’t want to face that kind of violence, it wasn’t what he had joined the police to deal with. ‘Damn! Damn! Damn!’ With each curse, Kerwin slammed his fist down on the steering wheel. He could not believe that so much had gone wrong so quickly; first there was the trap the police had set and almost caught him with, then he had failed to get Lynne’s phone from his sister. It should not have been possible for him to fail to do that when his sister was so much smaller and weaker than him, and finally he had failed even to stop Tara reaching help. It took more than a minute for him to calm down enough to leave the Land Rover, and when he did he left the keys in the ignition. Staying at the farm was no longer an option, not now that Tara had escaped him - he simply could not imagine that his sister would keep quiet about what had happened that morning -which meant leaving the village; to help him make a quick getaway he left the front door ajar when he entered the house. He ran upstairs to his bedroom the moment he was through the front door, where he threw open the wardrobe so he could retrieve his sports - bag. He tossed it onto his bed, and was about to start throwing clothes after it when he stopped; he was normally one for acting first and thinking later, but he realised if he wanted to stand a chance of getting away he needed to go against his nature and think before doing anything. Standing by the open wardrobe, Kerwin thought harder about his situation than he had about anything in a long time. He had no idea where he was going to go, or what he was going to do when he got there - he would have to work out some way of making a living, fortunately he wasn’t afraid of hard work, so he was sure he would be alright on that score. For the time being, though, he didn’t think it mattered that he didn’t have a destination in mind, that was something he could work out later; what did matter was that he got out of the village and put as much distance between it and him as he could. To give him the best chance of getting away without getting caught, he needed to take with him everything he was likely to need for the next few days, specially money, food and water - the less he had to stop, the better his chances of getting far enough away that the police wouldn’t find him. Now that he had some kind of plan, limited though it might be, Kerwin reached into his wardrobe again, though not for clothes this time. Shifting some stuff about in the bottom, he soon uncovered the item he was looking for and, yanking the rucksack out from the junk that had accumulated to cover it, he left the room. His footsteps thundered as he descended the stairs in a rush, and once downstairs he hurried along the passage to the kitchen. When he filled the rucksack with as much food and drink as he could squeeze into it, he took it out to his Land Rover so he could stuff the bag behind the driver’s seat. The next thing for him to go looking for was money, and he quickly emptied out the piggy bank - really a whiskey bottle they all threw their loose change into - his father kept in the living room; unfortunately, there seemed to be far more ten and twenty cents pieces than coins of any other denomination. Any amount of money was going to be useful, but he would have preferred to see more coins in the flow as he poured the contents of the bottle into a plastic bag he got from the kitchen. From the living room, Kerwin made his way upstairs to his father’s bedroom. He went straight to the chest of drawers under the window and pulled out the top drawer; rummaging amongst the socks and boxers, he soon found what he was after, the small, red lock box where his father kept his emergency money. It amused him that his father thought the lock - box so well hidden when he had known where it had been for years; he thought it equally funny that his father thought the money in the box safe. At first look the lock - box appeared sturdy, but Kerwin knew it had weak hinges, and with only a bit of effort he had it open so he could get at the contents. ‘Sonofabitch,’ he swore angrily, throwing the lock - box aside so violently it cracked the door of the wardrobe. ‘Cheap, useless bastard,’ he raged as the counted the money he had taken from the box again and again, failing each time to make it amount to more than the two hundred rands he had come to the first time. He Hadn’t expected his father to have a fortune stashed away, the family had never been well - off, but he had expected to find as least what he now held.