Page 125 of Night Call

“Please, Pem,” Wallace said. “Please just start making your way to the crime scene. You’re the only one I can send. A Falkington supervisor will be there. He’ll tell you what to do.”

Pember nodded, stepping back. “Y-yeah. I’ll go.” He looked up at Blake. “See you there?”

Blake shook his head. “I’ll come in the van.” A strained smile pinched his lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drive.”

After loading additional sample kits into the back of the van, Pember pulled himself into the driver’s seat and shut the door.

“Ready?” Blake said, punching the postcode into the satnav.

Pember nodded, pulling out his phone to place it in the centre console. He blinked when he noticed a message on the screen. It was from Ru.

Blake saw it too.

“Can I… can I read it?” Pember said, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Sure, but if it’s anything incriminating I’ll probably have to seize your phone.”

Pember tipped his head, thinking Blake was joking, but his serious expression indicated otherwise.

“Okay,” he said, butterflies swarming in his belly as he clicked the message. He let out a relieved sigh when he saw it was a photograph of a knitted cuddly toy. He glanced at Blake, who gave a small smile in return.

‘Hamster?’Pember typed back.

‘Red panda,’Ru replied. ‘Made it yesterday. It reminded me of you for some reason.’

Letting out a breath, Pember covered his aching chest. “We have to help him,” he said, turning to Blake. “If he’s gotten mixed up in all this, we have to make sure he’s safe.”

Blake swallowed, crossing an ankle over his knee. “It might not be that simple.”

“Yeah, but surely?—”

Blake held up a hand. “One thing at a time, alright? Crime scene first, then we’ll think about Reuben Atkinson.”

The deep red bricks of the old woollen mill looked almost bloody set against the overcast sky that loomed behind Monmouth Hill. Although on the outskirts of West Newton, it had produced a good portion of the area’s agricultural trade in the 1700s, and evidence of the old cart tracks was still present on the sprawling cobble driveway.

Pember shivered as he stood at the base of what was now a relic of a time long passed. The structure had held up, and the cylindrical chimney in the centre was still very much upright. But the wood-framed windows had long since blown, leaving moss and ivy to conquer the crumbling brickwork.

“Well, that was fucking harrowing,” Blake said, stepping out of the van with all the grace of a baby gazelle.

Pember huffed, yanking open the sliding door to pull out a metal briefcase. “Be quiet. We don’t all have the luxury of driving around in swanky cars.”

Rapping his knuckles on the bonnet, Blake scowled. “This thing made more noise than a marble in a tin can.”

Pember shrugged. “Duncan forgets to strap the equipment down sometimes.”

Sliding the door shut, Pember walked around the van and joined Blake on the dusty concrete loading bay. “She’s in there?” he said, looking up at the alpha.

“Yes, down an old storage chute. Caitlin’s managing the outer cordon; we’ll be on the inside with the Falkington officers.”

There were a dozen other officers on the scene, and they all moved slowly, almost carefully as they set out the cordon and secured the area.

Pember felt sick. “That doesn’t seem right,” he said, shaking his head. “The others… The other murders were so public. Like some kind of show.”

“We’ll know more once we get inside.” Blake turned to look at him. “Are you sure you’re up to this? It’s one thing processing a dead stranger, it’s another entirely seeing someone you know.”

Pember swallowed and straightened his back. “Right back at you.”

They walked towards the mill, the air becoming thick, almost cloying with the stale stench of dust and rotting wood. It was a smell wholly unique to old buildings, but one, Pember suspected, that would be a lasting reminder of what they were about to witness.

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