Savage Moon

Thirty-One

When her BMW Mini pulled into the car park Jon was sitting in his vehicle, the ordnance survey map for the Dark Peak spread out across the steering wheel and dashboard. The interior light of his car was weak, causing him to squint as he studied the faint lines on the paper.

Holding a hand out of the open door, he waved a greeting to Nikki and sat back. She parked alongside him and climbed out, pausing at the boot to remove an aluminium carry case. 'I can't believe you dragged me out here,' she announced, placing the case on the tarmac.

At just over five feet tall, Jon didn't need to look up much to meet her eyes. She was still wearing her outfit for court, a tailored black trouser suit over a crisp white shirt, collar overlapping the jacket's lapels. Her dark brown hair had grown longer since he'd last seen her, and the style had evolved from tousled to wavy. She pushed some strands away from her face and smiled. 'What?'

Jon's eyes flickered momentarily to the side. Shit, I was staring. 'Thanks for coming out so fast.'

'Yeah well, you're lucky I didn't get lost. I'm not used to leaving the city centre.'

He wondered if she still had the little loft apartment in the Northern Quarter. He remembered her description. Exposed brick walls, steel girders and floor to ceiling windows with views out over the city. It sounded a nice pad. And with her determination never to have kids, why sacrifice it for some cramped semi in the suburbs?

She pointed to the map. 'Are you really going up there alone?'

He nodded. 'Everyone else is back at Longsight in a briefing.'

'Do you know the way?'

'Kind of. There's a track branching off the A6024 near the top of the moor. It leads towards Black Hill. Rose Sutton's body was found in a gully just a short walk from there.'

'What's wrong with getting an officer from Mossley Brow to show you the way? Surely they'll be familiar with the area?'

Jon thought about how Clegg was hiding something. 'I don't trust the officer in charge.'

Nikki arched an eyebrow. 'So why not Rose Sutton's husband? He must know the moor like the back of his hand.'

'Same reason.' Jon looked at the carry case. 'So, how does this work?'

Nikki crouched down and popped the clips. Inside was a layer of high density foam. Securely nestled in precision-cut cavities was a collection of items. She placed a finger on the largest, a black box with an empty bulb socket at the front. 'This is the Portscope, a handheld forensic light source.' She touched a smaller black box alongside. 'Twelve-volt battery, fully charged. Here's the bulb, it screws into the front. These are your filter covers. Different things show up under different wavelengths of light. UV light, which is less than four hundred nanometres is good for certain powders, inks and dyes, though not gunshot residue. Violet light illuminates blood stains, blue light shows up most other bodily fluids, blue green and green are best for fingerprints.'

'OK, where's the switch for the wavelengths?'

'It's not that simple. You need to tune in the lamp to the different colour bands, then fine tune it with the filters. You're scanning grass and earth right?'

'And rocks. Grit-stone boulders.'

'OK. There's a good chance the rocks will create background interference. They may glow or darken under certain wave- lengths, so you'll need to eliminate that… ' She paused. 'I'm going to have to come, aren't I?'

'No,' Jon said, folding the map over. 'Just talk me through how to do it.'

'Pissing hell!' She stood up. 'Why did I ever think I could explain how to use this in five minutes? It takes an entire training course to learn how to use it properly.' She walked back to the boot of her car, opened it and removed an industrial sized torch, Wellington boots and a big red quilted ski jacket. 'We go in your car though. I'm not driving Mojo down any farm track.'

'Mojo?' Jon replied with a grin.

'What's wrong with that?' She smiled back, flicking a black shoe off.

As they followed the road to Hollingworth, Nikki produced a purple hair band and started tying her hair back. Jon watched her from the corner of his eye, always impressed at how she never shied away from a challenge.

'How's home life?' she asked, face obscured by her raised forearms.

Jon stared at the road in front. 'Not bad. Holly's three months old now. She's doing fine, feeding really well. Actually, she can be a bit awkward at night.'

Nikki grimaced. 'The thought of feeding a baby every two or three hours round the clock. I don't know how you do it.'

'Well, I get the easy deal. Alice is breastfeeding. I normally just give Holly a bottle of formula last thing before bed. Maybe the odd night feed if Alice is really knackered.'

'All credit to her, that must take some willpower.'

She looked out of her side window and Jon could see the tension in her neck. The silence began to grow heavy and he searched for something to say. 'So, are you seeing anyone at the moment?'

Still looking away, she shook her head; Jon noticed the stubby ponytail shake. 'Nah. Spending too much time doing this bloody job.'

The comment was meant to be light-hearted, but she didn't quite pull it off.

He tapped the edge of the steering wheel with his forefingers.

'No sexy lawyers caught your eye recently?'

She quickly turned her head, eyes searching out his, checking the comment was meant in jest. 'Oh yeah, some smooth-talking guy in an even smoother suit. Just my style.'

'What about judges or magistrates then? Let one be your

Sugar Daddy.'

She was looking back out the window. 'Just drop it, Jon. You're safely wrapped up in your idyllic family life. It's easy for you to take the piss.'

Yeah right, he thought. Idyllic is one way of describing it. 'I wasn't taking the piss.' He stopped, aware the conversation had dwelled too long on their relationships. They drove on in silence, the subdued light of Tintwhistle's cottages fading away behind them. Soon they were surrounded by darkness, his car advancing into the ever-receding tunnel of light cast by its headlamps.

Nikki pressed her nose to the glass and cupped her hands to the sides of her face. 'There's nothing out there.'

'Wait until we get to the top.'

The turn-off for the A6024 soon appeared on their left and the sound of the engine dropped as he slowed down to take it. Moving into second gear, he eased his foot off the clutch and the engine's noise returned, now revving much higher as they started climbing the steep road.

He saw Nikki's shoulders shudder as she crossed her arms.

'You still happy to do this?'

'Of course. What's that light up ahead?'

Hanging in the darkness above was a red glow. 'It's the top of a radio mast. We'll use it to guide us back to the car.'

As they completed the ascent, the light seemed to float in the air like a crimson will-o'-the-wisp. Resisting the temptation to stare at it too long, Jon kept his eyes on the road. When its glow was almost above them he slowed to a crawl. There was the mouth of the track, base of the mast just visible as they turned down it.

The vehicle began to bump and lurch as they rolled slowly along. After thirty metres a large pothole appeared in front of them and he brought the car to a halt. 'I'm not risking that.'

'Right,' said Nikki in a businesslike voice. 'Let's get this done.'

Jon killed the engine and blackness flooded the vehicle. He quickly reached up a hand, flicked on the interior light, then spread the map out. 'OK, so we're here.' He slid his forefinger over the paper, aware of the eddies of wind nudging the car.

'There's Black Hill.' He nodded at the windscreen and then looked back down. 'A kilometre that way, maximum. At the top is a cairn of rocks, so we'll know once we reach it. The gully Rose Sutton was killed in is just nearby.' Squinting, he focused on a series of V-shaped kinks in the contour lines. 'Must be one of these. Grouse Clough I should think. Are you ready?'

'Ready.'

Their doors opened simultaneously and a rush of cold air whisked through the vehicle, almost flipping the map from his hand.

'Bloody hell,' Nikki said, climbing out and shutting the door. The turbulence instantly vanished and Jon folded the map so the section they were on was uppermost. Outside he looked about, the wind moaning as it passed through struts of the radio mast. Thanks to a faint glow where the moon was trying to shine through a thin layer of cloud, he was able to make out the dark terrain stretching out all around them. He peered ahead, just able to make out a lump that stood fractionally higher than its neighbours. 'Black Hill, straight in front.'

'Good,' Nikki replied. 'You can carry the Portascope and lead the way.'

She turned her torch on and shone it downwards, creating a circle of light around her feet. Its brightness only seemed to emphasise the darkness surrounding them. Leaning down, Jon curled his fingers round the case's handle, surprised at how heavy it was. No problem, he thought. Ten minutes to the gully, half an hour to search the rocks, ten minutes back. Less than an hour. Piece of piss. He skirted to the side of the pot hole, glad he hadn't tried to drive over it.

After another hundred metres the track ended at a shallow ditch. He stepped over it, feet sinking into the soft turf beyond. Turning round, he held a hand out to Nikki. Small fingers that were colder than his gripped his hand and she jumped across. As she landed on the other side her momentum carried her forwards into Jon. Their bodies were up against each other as she gripped his elbow with her other hand to stop from falling backwards.

Jon felt her stomach as it pressed against his groin. The blood surged in his chest. Do not go there, he said to himself, stepping back. 'Close one. You nearly went in there.'

'Yes,' she replied in a voice charged with emotion.

The torch picked out a narrow path through the clumps of thick grass. 'Sheep trail,' said Jon. 'We'll follow that.'

With Nikki walking behind him, they followed the route carved by the animals. Every now and again Nikki directed the beam off to the side to reveal shimmering ponds of black water, their surfaces silently rippling in the stiff breeze. Other times the beam of the torch picked out bushes of gorse, each branch and twig brought into sharp relief against the infinite darkness behind. They resembled exotic plants glimpsed on the seabed, twisted and bowed by the weight of water pressing down from above.

Jon pushed on, pausing every now and again when an alternative path branched off. By keeping the red light of the radio mast directly behind them, they made their way slowly across the moor. After twenty minutes Jon became aware that there was higher ground before them. 'Shine the torch ahead will you? I think this is Black Hill.'

'I bloody hope so.'

The beam lifted up and there, at the top of the slope in front, was a pile of stones.

'That's the cairn!' Jon said.

He felt her hand slap him on the back. 'Good going.'

'The gully is just on the other side.'

They passed the stones and tramped down the opposite slope, high stepping over branches of heather before finding a sheep trail that led in the right direction. Jon could feel they were descending and, when he looked back, he saw the red light was now only just visible above the curve of the land. A few dozen steps later and it had disappeared completely. He hesitated. This is bloody stupid, he thought, uneasy now there was nothing to keep his bearings by.

'What's up?' Nikki asked behind him.

Come on Jon, you're nearly there. 'Nothing. It's somewhere here on our left. Have a look down there.'

Nikki shone the torch in the direction he was pointing. A narrow gully was revealed. Jon stared down into the gloom. It didn't seem right. 'Must be the next one.'

'How can you tell?'

'I'm not sure, it just doesn't feel familiar.' He heard her sigh. 'Go on then.'

Uncertain now, he carried on until he heard the sound of running water. Another gully had to be on their left. 'Try shining it again.'

The beam swept down, immediately picking out the cluster of rocks. Thank God for that, he thought. 'This is it.'

The little stream had died to a trickle and they were able to pick their way down the slope with relative ease. Within twenty metres of the rocks, Nikki shone the torch forwards again. Four ghost-like forms suddenly broke away from the boulders. She quickly cut off her cry of alarm. 'Jesus, they made me jump,' she giggled as the sprinting sheep disappeared beyond the range of the beam.

'I'm glad you're nervous too,' Jon said. 'I nearly pissed myself.'

They both laughed out loud as they approached the rocks. Jon put the Portascope down, rotating his shoulder back and forth to relieve his aching muscles. 'She was lying right here,' he said.

'The theory is whoever jumped her was using the rocks for cover.'

'Whoever or whatever?'

'Whoever,' Jon stated firmly. 'Let's not shit ourselves up any more than is necessary.'

Nikki shone the torch around, picking out strands of white fleece on the black soil. 'What a grim place to die.'

'Yup,' Jon replied. 'What do you reckon our chances are of finding anything?'

'Minimal. These rocks are our best bet.' She handed the torch to Jon, opened the case and took out the main unit. After screwing the bulb in, she selected a filter cap. 'We'll start with UV.' She attached the battery pack and put her finger on the switch. 'You can turn the torch off.'

As Jon did so he heard the Portascope click on. An eerie halo of blue light bathed the area before them. Holding it at waist height, Nikki started to sweep the rocks. Lichen and moss shone white in its unearthly glow and once again Jon felt like he could have been on an ocean bed.

Nikki worked her way along the semi-circle of rocks.

'Nothing ink based,' she said, removing a filter and releasing a burst of white light. 'Let's go to violet.' A new filter was attached, which turned the glow a soft reddish colour. Nikki began to sweep again. Now the lichen was hardly visible, though scratches and irregularities on the rock's surface suddenly were. Jon was glancing uneasily into the darkness behind him when he became aware that the glow had stopped moving.

'Got something?'

'I'm not sure. Is this a letter? It is! That's a K, or what's left of it.'

Jon looked over her shoulder. Just visible on the pockmarked surface was a darkish stain in the shape of a ragged K. 'Go to your right.'

Nikki swept the light across, and a faint U, R and I were revealed. 'Does that say Kuri?' Nikki asked.

'Go to the next rock, you'll find more letters there.'

She stepped sideways and the rest of the word appeared.

'Kuririkana. What does that mean?'

'Remember,' Jon replied. 'What do you think it's written in?'

'There's only one substance that glows black under violet light, and that's blood.'

Jon felt as though a cobweb had just caressed the back of his neck. He briskly rubbed at the spot with one hand. 'Can you take a scraping, for DNA?'

Nikki waved a hand. 'Problem is the cleaning agent, whatever it was.'

'Cleaning agent?'

'Someone's tried to rub this off. In fact, they probably believed they did remove it. In daylight, this would be invisible. Luckily, blood is one stubborn substance to remove completely, especially from a surface like this.'

Who could have tried to remove it? Jon ran through the list of people who'd visited this spot. Ken Sutton, Adam Clegg…

Jeremy Hobson. Had his alibi been checked for the night of Rose Sutton's death?

Nikki had removed a pot from her jacket and was scraping at the rock when the noise cut through the night. He saw her back stiffen and when she looked round at him, her eyes were wide with fear. 'What was that?'

Jon had to swallow before any words would come. 'Screech owl?'

Nikki was still crouching, eyes now shifting to Jon's side and the blackness beyond.

What? He wanted to shout as his pulse rocketed away. Is there something behind me?

'That was not a screech owl.'

Keep calm, Jon told himself. Do not let her see you're scared.

'A sheep then. They make pretty weird sounds, coughing and all sorts.'

'Jon, that was a snarl. Sheep do not-'

The noise came again, carried on the wind from somewhere further down the ravine. It was a throaty sawing sound, like air going in and out of a large pair of bellows. So that's what it feels like to have your hair stand on end, Jon thought as his scalp contracted against his skull. Casually he flicked the torch on and shone it down the slope. He may as well have tried to illuminate an aircraft hangar with a candle. 'Or a deer. A stag. You get them up here.'

'At night?' Nikki plucked the lens off the Portascope and began using the white glow to put the lenses back in the case. She slid the battery into its slot, then the torch, turning it off only when it was in place. She stood up. 'You can carry that. Fucking hell, Jon, it wasn't a deer. It was not a deer.'

A sharp odour caught in Jon's nostrils. Run! Just bloody run, his instincts screamed. 'Come on then,' he replied calmly, knowing how panic could pass between people like an airborne infection. 'We may as well head back. You lead the way, I'll be behind.'

'Too pissing right you will be. You got me out to this godforsaken place.'

They both started making their way up the ravine, neither now trying to step carefully over the boggier patches. Looking up, Jon was just able to make out where the slope ended and the sky began. 'Not far to the top,' he murmured, weighing up the case in his hand and wondering whether it would be better to swing as a weapon or clutch as a shield. He remembered the size of Samburu's claws. Jesus, calm down. You are not about to be attacked.

At the top of the slope Nikki paused, her breath coming in shallow gasps. 'Which way?'

'Right. We're heading towards that lump of land, see? At about two o'clock.'

'There are two paths, which one?'

Jon shone the torch ahead. Bollocks, she was right. 'OK, the right hand one. The other cuts away too-'

The noise came again. It now sounded level with them, somewhere off to their side. Nikki grabbed Jon's arm. 'What is that? Oh, please God, this isn't happening. Please tell me… ' He felt her grip starting to shake and her words dissolved into a single sob.

'Keep going, OK?' He pushed her down the right hand path, and as they made their way along, the only sound was the heather rasping against their damp legs. Just a walk in the park, Jon thought to himself, suppressing the flickers of panic threatening to catch fire in his brain. A nice walk in the park, tra la la la, that's all this is. A nice walk. Where've I got that line from, he wondered, guessing it was something he'd heard in a film. With a jolt he realised — American Werewolf in London. The scene where the beast attacks the backpackers out wandering on the moors. That bloody film, I wish I'd never seen it.

The noise came again. An urge to change direction away from it overwhelmed him. A trail opened up on their left. 'Take that one,' Jon snapped.

The terrain started rising and, to his immense relief, the red light at the top of the radio antenna bobbed into view. 'Keep going, Nikki. That's good. Keep aiming for that light.'

They skirted round the cairn at the top of Black Hill and marched down the other side without pausing for breath. Now on the plateau at the top of the moor, their stride lengthened. All the while Jon kept his head cocked to the side, listening out for the sound of anything pursuing them. After another five minutes he let the torch beam swing up. Dull metal glinted at the outer edge of the beam.

On seeing the car Nikki broke into a jog. They hopped over the ditch and on to the track. Somehow just being on a man- made surface was reassuring. Five metres from the car Jon said,

'It's not locked. Jump straight in.'

He opened the rear door, slung the case on to the back seat, opened the driver's door and got in. Nikki was in the passenger seat, her legs shivering violently.

He shut the door and started the engine, flicking the central locking on as he did so. Then he put the vehicle into gear and reversed as fast as he dared up the track, not giving a toss what happened to the car's suspension.