House of the Dead, page 13
“If I killed the GameMaster, I’d go to prison for murder. Who would look after my dogs then?”
He smiled tightly. “All right, I can see I’m not going to convince you to have a gun, but at least let me watch your place tonight. I’ll park on the road outside, just to keep an eye on you.”
“I’m sure the DCI will arrange something. Let him work out the personnel and the shifts. There’s no need for you to stay up all night.”
He sighed. “All right, guv.”
She wasn’t sure if she was his guv’nor anymore, considering the fact that he technically worked for MI5, but at least he seemed to respect her authority.
Tony came over and looked at her with concern in his eyes. “How are you, Dani?”
“I’ve been better.”
“If you need anyone to talk to, you know where I am.”
“Thanks, Tony.”
“Did you hear what happened at the camper van?”
She could tell by the tone of his voice that it wasn’t anything good.
“We lost four of the FSU team,” he continued.
“Did he rig the camper van?” Ryan asked.
The psychologist nodded. “It went over the cliff edge with the men locked inside.”
Dani balled her fists angrily beneath the blanket. How many more people were going to die before this ended?
“The GameMaster might have inadvertently given us a lead,” Tony said. “The camper van was at a campsite that was mysteriously closed, and the place where he left David was near an old campsite in the forest. Two campsites. It might mean something. I’ve got the support team looking into who owns them.”
“Let’s hope it leads to something,” Dani said. She doubted the GameMaster would do anything that might lead them to him, but she had to hold onto any scrap of hope.
Tony’s phone rang. He answered it, walking over to the gate to speak to whoever was on the line. The call was short. Tony nodded and put the phone back in his pocket.
“Thomas Rayburn,” he said, walking back to the Land Rover. “Apparently, he’s the owner of both the Sunnyside campsite and the Sutton Forest one, as well. There’s a connection.”
“Could he be the GameMaster?” Dani said.
“I doubt it. He’s 74 years old.”
Dani’s radio crackled and Battle’s voice said, “Summers, are you there? Over.”
She reached through the gap between the seats and answered it. “Here, guv.”
“I heard what happened. I’m sorry. Who’s there with you?”
“Ryan and Sheridan, guv.”
“Good. I want you to go home. You’ve been through enough today.”
“But, guv—“
“No arguments. Take Ryan with you. He can make sure you’re safe until I can sort out a security roster.”
She sighed. There was no point arguing with the DCI. “All right, guv.”
“Put Sheridan on.”
She handed the radio to Tony.
“Here, Boss,” the psychologist said.
“I want you back in the office. Grab a lift with one of the uniforms. You need to work up a profile of the so-called GameMaster. You must have enough to go on by now.”
“Actually, I was going to have a word with a Thomas Rayburn.”
“Who the hell is that?”
“He owns the campsite where the camper van was, and the campsite near where we found David.”
There was a pause, then Battle said, “All right. Take a uniform with you. Then get back to the office.”
“Got it, Boss.”
“And Summers,” Battle said, “I want you to go home right now. Try to get some rest. Over and out.”
Tony put the radio back into its cradle. “Well, there you go. We’ve got our orders.” He looked at the police cars parked along the edge of the moor. “I need to find someone to give me a lift.”
“See ya later, doc,” Ryan said.
Tony nodded. “Yeah, see you later. Try to get some rest, Dani.” He walked away, in search of a uniformed officer to take him to Thomas Rayburn’s house.
“Like the doc said, we’ve got our orders,” Ryan said.
Dani nodded, sighing. She really didn’t want to go home. She needed to be part of the investigation, not sitting on the sidelines.
“If you want to prolong the process, we can go and get my car from HQ first.”
“All right, let’s do that.” She pushed the blanket from her shoulders and started to get out of the backseat.
“You stay there,” Ryan said. “I’ll drive.”
“Ryan, I’m fine.”
“I know. That’s why you can drive home from HQ when we pick up my car. But until then, you need to take it easy.”
“You know I could order you to let me drive, right?”
“You could, but you won’t.” He slipped into the driver’s seat and adjusted the mirrors.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I drove plenty of Land Rovers when I was in the Regiment. I’ll get us there without a scratch. Buckle up.”
She sat back in the seat and put the seatbelt on. Ryan’s reassurances were redundant; she trusted him to drive her car.
He started the engine and pulled onto the road. “I hope you’ve got something to eat at your place. I’m starving.”
Tony found a police car with a uniformed officer behind the wheel, seemingly doing nothing.
He tapped on the passenger side window.
The officer—who was a Sikh man in his thirties with a black turban instead of a police helmet on his head—buzzed the window down.
“Can I help you, Doctor?”
“Are you doing much at the moment?”
The officer shook his head. “I was called up here, but everything seems to be in hand. I was just about to go back to the station.”
“I need you to come with me to question a suspect.”
The officer’s eyes lit up. “Certainly. Jump in.” He unlocked the door and Tony got in.
“I’m officer Badwal, Doctor. You can call me Ram. It’s short for Ramandeep.”
“And you can call me Tony.”
Ram nodded. “All right, Tony. Where are we going?”
“Hedgemoor House, near Sutton-on-the-Forest. We’re going to speak to a man named Thomas Rayburn.”
He showed Ram the address the Support Team had texted him and the officer typed it into his onboard computer.
When he was satisfied that he knew their destination, Ram started the car and they set off.
“So, why is Mr Rayburn a suspect?” he asked.
“He owns the campsite near where we found David and the one where the camper van was parked.”
Ram nodded solemnly. “I heard about what happened. Very bad news.”
“Rayburn is 74, so I doubt he’s the man behind all this,” Tony said, “but he’s connected to both locations, so we need to have a word with him.”
The officer nodded. “Understood.”
They drove in silence for a few minutes, then Ram said, “I saw you on the front page of the papers this morning. He indicated a folded copy of The Sun that was sitting on the dash.
Tony picked it up and unfolded it. The picture on the front page was taken from the website feed. It showed him pulling David out of the ground. The headline read, Hero Psychologist Rescues Boy From Killer.
Tony folded the paper and put it back where he’d found it.
“It says you caught a serial killer in Canada,” Ram said.
“It wasn’t just me. I was working with the Ontario Police Department.” That wasn’t strictly true, though. The police had no leads. It had been Tony who’d bumped into Solomon Gantz at a petrol station and recognised him as the Lake Erie Ripper.
Ram looked a little disappointed at Tony’s playing down of the situation. “But you saved two girls,” he said.
“Yes, I did do that,” Tony agreed.
“That must be a great feeling. To know that two people are alive today because of you.”
“I’m just glad I got there in time.” The timing of his arrival at Solomon Gantz’s house had been fortuitous for the two girls he’d saved, but for ages afterwards, he’d beaten himself up mentally for not getting there sooner. How many victims might have been saved if he’d bumped into Gantz two days earlier? Or a month earlier?
Those types of thoughts could send the mind down paths of self-doubt and depression, and had been part of the reason Tony had ended up in a mental health facility.
They found Hedgemoor House—a detached, two-story building in its own acre of land—on the outskirts of Sutton-on-the-Forest. Ram took the police car up the drive and parked behind a green BMW that was sitting in front of the house.
“I’ll do the talking,” Tony said. “If you could take notes, that would be great.”
“Of course,” Ram said.
They got out of the car, and the uniformed officer got his notebook ready.
Tony knocked on the front door. He heard sounds within the house and fished his Murder Force ID out of his pocket.
The man who answered the door was tall but stooped over. He had thinning white hair and a weathered face that spoke of decades spent outdoors in all weathers. His clothes—a green knitted jumper and black trousers—seemed to hang from his wiry frame.
“Yes?” he said when he saw Tony.
“Mr Rayburn?”
The man nodded.
“I’m Dr Sheridan and this is PC Badwal. We’d like to talk to you about your campsites.”
Rayburn nodded. “I wondered when the police would show up. I didn’t expect a doctor, though.”
“I’m a psychologist,” Tony explained.
“Hang on, aren’t you the bloke in the papers? The one who saved that boy?”
“Yes,” Tony said. “May we come in?”
“Of course.” He stepped back into the hallway and shouted, “Jo, put the kettle on. The police are here.”
He led Tony and Ram through the house to a kitchen at the rear, where a woman in her fifties was filling a kettle at the sink. She wore jeans and a white blouse.
“This is my daughter Jo,” Rayburn said. “She comes round most days to make sure I’m still alive and kicking.”
“Don’t be silly, Dad,” she said, “You’ll outlive us all.” She smiled at Tony and Ram. “Take a seat and the tea will be ready in a minute.”
“Thanks.” Tony took a seat at a pine table that was situated beneath a large window. Beyond the window, a large, colourful garden was in bloom. Ram took a seat next to him and placed the notebook on the table.
“I assume you’re aware of what happened at your campsite today,” Tony said.
Rayburn, who was leaning on the kitchen counter, nodded. “Hell of a thing.”
“Do you know anything about the camper van?”
“No. I saw it there a few times. It’s been there for over a month. But I never went near it.”
“You didn’t wonder why it was there? I noticed the campsite was closed.”
“Not so much closed as privately rented,” Rayburn said.
“What do you mean by that?”
Rayburn looked uncomfortable. “When I explain this to you, it’s going to sound a bit dodgy, but I can assure you that I had no idea what he wanted it for. I didn’t know he was going to…do what he did.”
“Perhaps you’d better start at the beginning,” Tony suggested.
“Sit down, Dad, and I’ll bring you a cuppa over,” Joe said. “Tell them about the money.”
Rayburn took a seat at the table across from Tony and Ram. “The money appeared two months ago. And when I say appeared, I mean it was left on the doorstep in a brown envelope. A fat wad of cash.”
“Nearly a hundred grand,” Jo said, pouring the tea.
“With a note,” Rayburn added, “asking me to close Sunnyside until further notice. The note said a camper van would be situated on the site and the owner wanted privacy.”
“And you didn’t think it strange?” Tony asked.
Rayburn shrugged. “Well, of course I did, but the hundred grand was more than I’d have made from keeping the site open for the season, so I was willing to overlook any strangeness.”
“Have you still got the note?”
“Yeah, it’s here somewhere.”
“It’s in the drawer,” Jo said. She brought three mugs of tea over the table, along with milk and sugar, before opening a drawer and taking out a small piece of paper which she handed to Tony.
He took it by the edge and placed it on the table in front of him. The message had been typed on a computer and printed out.
Tommy, I have enclosed a substantial fee for the sole use of Sunnyside campsite. Please close the campsite until further notice. I will be using the site for my camper van and I require absolute privacy. The enclosed money should more than cover any losses incurred from being closed.
Make your day great!
J.
Tony reread the ending sentiment. Make your day great! didn’t sound like the GameMaster at all.
“This is a rather friendly tone,” he said. “Do you know the person who sent it?”
Rayburn shook his head. “I don’t think so. But there is something strange about it. I haven’t been called Tommy in over ten years. That’s what the campers used to call me when I worked on the sites. I employ other people to do all that now, so nobody has called me that since I retired.”
Tony frowned at the salutation on the note. “So, this was written by someone who knew you in the past.”
“It looks. like it, but I don’t know anyone with the initial J.”
“Maybe you can’t remember them, but they seem to have known you at some point.”
Rayburn looked suddenly worried.
“Tell me about the Sutton Forest campsite,” Tony said. “When did it close down?”
“A long time ago. Must be going on twelve years now. It wasn’t bringing in much revenue on account of it’s in the middle of nowhere. Campers these days like pubs that serve food. We couldn’t do that out there.”
“Before you retired, did you work there personally?”
“Sometimes.”
“And the campers there knew you as Tommy?”
Rayburn nodded. “It was the name I used when I was on the sites. Sounded more friendly than Thomas.”
“You weren’t known as Tommy by anyone other than the campers?”
“No. Everybody else calls me Thomas, or Tom. Never Tommy.”
Pointing at the note, Tony said, “I’m going to have to take this as evidence.”
“Of course.”
“You can’t think of anyone you met on the sites who might have struck you as odd in some way?”
“Plenty,” Rayburn said, “but no one who would do what this maniac’s doing.”
Tony downed his tea and put his business card on the table. “If you remember anything, please contact me.”
“All right, I will.”
“Do you have any questions, Ram?”
The uniformed officer consulted his notes. “Just one. Mr Rayburn, you said you saw the camper van at the Sunnyside campsite a number of times.”
“That’s right. When I was driving past. I’d always have a look because I was curious.”
“Did you ever see anyone at the campsite with the vehicle?”
“No, just the van.”
“What about other vehicles? Were there any cars parked nearby on the occasions when you saw the camper van?”
Rayburn’s brows furrowed. “I’m not sure. I think I might have seen a black car parked by the gate the last time I was driving past. Or was it the time before?” The furrow between his brows deepened. “Or was it both?”
“Do you know the make of the vehicle?” Ram positioned his pen over the notebook.
Rayburn grimaced. “Possibly a Lexus. I can’t say for certain.”
“Was there anything about the vehicle that would distinguish it from other, similar cars? A scratch on the bodywork, or a dent? Perhaps stickers in the windows?”
“No, nothing like that. I’d remember something like that.”
Ram closed the notebook and smiled. “Thank you for your time, Mr Rayburn.”
Tony pointed at the note. “Do you have an evidence bag for this?” he asked Ram.
“I can get one from the car.”
When the uniformed officer returned with the clear plastic bag, Rayburn said, “There is one more thing. Now that I think about it, I did see someone at Sunnyside. But this was before the money and the note arrived. Probably a few weeks before.”
“Tell us about it,” Tony said.
“I got to the campsite, just to have a look around. The boys had been in with the mowers the day before and I wanted to make sure everything was neat and tidy. I saw this bloke standing at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the rocks.”
“Can you describe him?” Tony said.
“I’d say he was in his twenties. Light hair. Well built.”
“Did you speak to him?” Ram asked.
“No. I don’t think he saw me, to be honest. He was only there for a few seconds, then he walked off.”
“You didn’t think it strange that he was on your campsite?”
Rayburn shook his head. “The coastal path runs through the campsite, along the top of the cliff. Plenty of people walk along it.”
“So why did this man stick out in particular?” Ram asked.
“Well, like I say, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, except he was crying.”
“Crying?” Tony said.
“Yeah. Proper sobbing. That’s another reason I didn’t talk to him. I didn’t want to disturb the poor bloke.”
“You didn’t happen to see the black Lexus parked nearby, did you?” Ram said.
“No. I don’t think I saw any other cars parked at the site that day. I assumed this bloke was a hiker.”
Ram nodded and wrote in the notebook. “Was he wearing hiking gear?”
Rayburn frowned, trying to remember. “I think so.”
“Thanks, Mr Rayburn,” Tony said. “You’ve been very helpful.”
He got out of the chair and thanked Jo for the tea.
When he and Ram were outside, with the note safely sealed inside an evidence bag, Tony said, “That was him. The bloke on the cliff was our guy.”
