Simon Beckett - Whispers of the Dead

‘I didn’t want to upset Dr Avery with this yet, but I thought you should know. We rechecked the footage from the hospital’s security cameras around the time York called Dr Lieberman from the payphone. You were right about the ambulance.’

She handed me a black and white photograph from the folder. It was the CCTV still I’d seen before, showing the shadowy figure of York crossing the road by the phone booth. The rear of the parked ambulance was visible at the left hand side of the frame. It was hard to say, but he could have been heading towards it.

‘The ambulance arrived ten minutes before York used the payphone and left seven minutes later,’ Jacobsen said. ‘We can’t see who was driving, but the timing fits.’

‘Why would he have waited ten minutes before making the call?’

‘Maybe he had to wait until there was no one around, or perhaps he wanted to savour the moment. Or gather his nerve. Either way, at ten o’clock he went to make the call, then came back out and waited. Dr Lieberman would’ve been in a hurry, so it should’ve only taken a few minutes for him to make it outside. When he didn’t show York would have waited awhile before realizing something was wrong and getting out of there.’

I played it through in my mind: York glancing anxiously at his watch, his confidence bleeding away when his victim didn’t appear. Just another minute; just one more… And then driving away, furious, to plan his next move.

Jacobsen pulled out another photograph from the folder. This one had been taken in a part of the hospital I didn’t recognize. An ambulance was caught in the centre of the frame, blurred by motion.

‘This was taken on a different stretch of road a few minutes before the ambulance pulled up outside the mortuary,’ she said. ‘We traced its route backwards on other security cameras. It’s definitely the same vehicle. This is the best shot we’ve been able to find.’

That wasn’t saying much. The photograph had been enlarged to the limits of useful magnification, and had the out-of-focus look of still lifted from video. The angle made it impossible to see whoever was inside the cab, and from what I could see there was nothing remarkable about the ambulance itself: a boxy white van with the predominantly orange livery of East Tennessee’s main emergency service.

‘How can you be sure this is the same one York used?’ I asked.

‘Because it isn’t a real ambulance. The markings look authentic, but only until you compare them to the real thing. Not only that, but it’s a model that’s at least fifteen years old. That’s way too old to be still in use.’

I examined the photograph more carefully. Now she’d mentioned it the ambulance did look dated, but it was good enough to fool most people. Even in a hospital. Who would think to look twice?

I handed the photograph back. ‘It looks pretty convincing.’

‘There are companies that specialize in selling used ambulances. York could’ve probably picked up an old model like this for next to nothing, and then repainted it in the right colours.’

‘So can you trace where it came from?’

‘Eventually, but I’m not sure how much good that’ll do us. York probably used a credit card from one of his victims to buy it. And even if not I doubt it’ll help us find him now. He’s too smart for that.’

‘What about the registration?’ I asked.

‘We’re still working on it. The plates are visible in some shots, but they’re too dirty to make out. Could be intentional, but the vehicle’s sides are splashed as well, so it’s obviously been driven through mud some time recently.’

I thought about what Josh Talbot had said when he’d identified the dragonfly nymph from the casket. The body had to have been left close to a pond or lake. Probably right by the water’s edge… They’re not called swamp darners for nothing.

‘At least now we’ve a better idea of what we’re looking for,’ Jacobsen went on, putting the photographs back into the folder. ‘Even without the registration we can release a description of the ambulance. That’ll narrow things down a little, if nothing else.’

But not enough. York had been given plenty of time to reach wherever he was going. Even if he hadn’t crossed the state line, there were hundreds of square miles of mountain and forest where he could lose himself.

And Sam.

I looked at Jacobsen and saw the same thought in her eyes. Neither of us spoke, but an understanding passed between us. Too late. Inappropriate as it was, I was suddenly conscious of how close we were standing, of the way the scent of her body underlay the light perfume after the long day. The sudden awkwardness between us told me she was aware of it as well.

‘I’d better get back to Paul,’ I said, moving away.

She nodded, but before either of us could say anything else the kitchen door opened and Gardner walked in. One look at his seamed face was enough to tell me that something had happened.

‘Where’s Dr Avery?’ he asked Jacobsen as though I weren’t there.

‘In the lounge.’

Without a word he went out again. Jacobsen went with him, all emotion carefully smoothed from her face. The air seemed suddenly cold as I followed.

Paul didn’t seem to have moved since I’d left him. He still sat hunched in the chair, a mug of coffee standing cold and untouched on the low table beside him. When he saw Gardner he stiffened, holding himself like a man preparing for a physical blow.

‘Have you found her?’

Gardner quickly shook his head. ‘Not yet. But we’ve had a report of an accident involving an ambulance on Highway 321, a few miles east of Townsend.’ I knew the place by name, a small, pretty town in the foothills of the mountains. Gardner hesitated. ‘It isn’t confirmed yet, but we think it was York.’

‘Accident? What sort of accident?’

‘It was in a collision with a car. The driver says the ambulance took a bend too fast and sideswiped him coming the other way. Spun both of them round, and the ambulance went into a tree.’

‘Oh, Christ!’

‘It took off again, but according to the car driver the front fender and at least one of the lights were smashed. By the sound it made he thinks there could have been some mechanical damage as well.’

‘Did he get the registration?’ I asked.

‘No, but a banged-up ambulance is likely to get noticed. And at least now we know which way York was headed.’

Paul had jumped up from his seat. ‘So now you can put up roadblocks?’

Gardner looked uncomfortable. ‘It isn’t that simple.’

‘Why the hell not? For Christ’s sake, how hard can it be to find a beat-up ambulance when you know which damn way it’s heading?’

‘Because the accident was five hours ago.’

There was silence as his words sank in.

‘The driver didn’t report it straight away,’ Gardner went on. ‘Seems like he thought it was a real ambulance, and was worried he might get into trouble. It was only when his wife convinced him to try for compensation that he called the police.’

Paul was staring at him. ‘Five hours?’ He sat down, as though his legs would no longer support him.

‘It’s still a valuable lead,’ Gardner insisted, but Paul wasn’t listening.

‘He’s gone, hasn’t he?’ His voice was flat and lifeless. ‘He could be anywhere. Sam could be already dead.’

No one contradicted him. He stared at Gardner with such intensity that even the TBI agent seemed to flinch.

‘Promise me you’ll catch him. Don’t let the bastard get away with this. Promise me that much, at least.’

Gardner looked trapped. ‘I’ll do my best.’

But I noticed he didn’t look Paul in the eye as he said it.