David Peace - 1983

George Marsh puts his hand to his face. George Marsh smears the rat’s blood across his cheeks, across his tongue and lips, and George Marsh says: ‘John Dawson.’

‘What about him?’ asks Bill.

Marsh licks his lips: ‘He knows what I did. He knows what I know. He’ll tell you all about it.’

Bill looks at Marsh.

Marsh winks.

Bill stands up. Bill kicks Marsh hard in the ribs.

George Marsh slumps to the floor, clutching his side, coughing -

Laughing.

I turn to Alderman: ‘Clean him and room up.’

Bill and I step out into the corridor.

‘He did it,’ I say. ‘He fucking did it.’

Bill shakes his head. Bill looks at his watch.

I look at mine:

It’s almost dawn -

Day 6.

But there’s no light -

Not down here.

Here just night:

Endless dark night -

Endless dark nights, past -

Past and future -

Futures and pasts:

Times old and yet to come .

You are sat in the car park of the Balne Lane Library at eight o’clock on a wet Saturday morning in May -

The car doors are locked and you are shaking, unable to switch off the radio:

‘Healey wins Polaris battle with Foot; Tebbit pledges to curb unions and abolish GLC and metropolitan district councils; Thatcher seeks bumper victory to thwart Labour extremists; boy aged sixteen found hanging from window bars of a cell in the borstal allocation unit of Strangeways prison; Dennis Nilsen is committed for trial…’

No Hazel.

You are sat in the car park of the Balne Lane Library at half-eight on a wet Saturday morning in May -

The radio is off but you are still shaking -

The car doors still locked.

It is Saturday 28 May 1983 -

D-12 :

Does anybody know any jokes?

Up the stairs to the first floor of the library, the microfilms and old newspapers, pulling two boxes of Yorkshire Posts from the shelves:

December 1974 and November 1975 .

Threading the film, winding the spools, flogging dead horses:

STOP -

Friday 13 December 1974:

Morley Girl Missing – by Edward Dunford, North of England Crime Correspondent .

Mrs Sandra Kemplay made an emotional appeal this morning for the safe return of her daughter, Clare .

STOP -

Sunday 15 December 1974:

Murdered – by Jack Whitehead, Crime Reporter of the Year .

The naked body of nine-year-old Clare Kemplay was found early yesterday morning by workmen in Devil’s Ditch, Wakefield .

STOP -

Monday 16 December 1974:

Catch this Fiend – by Jack Whitehead, Crime Reporter of the Year, 1968 & 1971 .

A post-mortem into the death of ten-year-old Clare Kemplay revealed that she had been tortured, raped, and then strangled .

STOP -

Thursday 19 December 1974:

Caught – by Jack Whitehead, Crime Reporter of the Year .

Early yesterday morning police arrested a Fitzwilliam man in connection with the murder of ten-year-old Clare Kemplay .

According to a police source, exclusive to this newspaper, the man has confessed to the murder and has been formally charged. He will be remanded in custody at Wakefield Magistrates’ Court later this morning .

The police source further revealed that the man has also confessed to a number of other murders and formal charges are expected shortly .

STOP -

Saturday 21 December 1974:

A Mother’s Plea – by Edward Dunford .

Mrs Paula Garland, sister of the Rugby League star Johnny Kelly, wept as she told of her life since the disappearance of her daughter, Jeanette, just over five years ago .

‘I’ve lost everything since that day,’ said Mrs Garland, referring to her husband Geoff’s suicide in 1971, following the fruitless police investigation into the whereabouts of their missing daughter .

‘I just want it all to end,’ wept Mrs Garland. ‘And maybe now it can.’

The arrest of a Fitzwilliam man in connection with the disappearance and murder of Clare Kemplay has brought a tragic hope of sorts to Mrs Garland .

STOP -

Saturday 21 December 1974:

Murder Hunt – by Jack Whitehead, Crime Reporter of the Year .

A fresh murder hunt was launched in Wakefield today following the discovery of the body of 36-year-old -

STOP -

STOP -

Into the library toilets, dry-heaving -

Your stomach burning, your stomach bleeding -

You retch again. You puke. You spew -

Knowing it’s not over, that it’ll never be over -

That you have to go back there -

Threading films, winding spools, flogging dead horses:

STOP -

Monday 23 December 1974:

RL Star’s Sister Murdered – by Jack Whitehead, Crime Reporter of the Year .

Police found the body of Mrs Paula Garland at her Castleford home early Sunday morning, after neighbours heard screams .

STOP -

Tuesday 24 December 1974:

3 Dead in Wakefield Xmas Shoot-out – by Jack Whitehead, Crime Reporter of the Year .

STOP -

STOP -

STOP -

Back in their bogs, burning and bleeding -

Retching.

Puking.

Spewing -

Knowing what you know, damned to go back one last fucking time -

You thread the last film. You wind the last spool. You flog the dead:

STOP -

Friday 21 November 1975:

Myshkin gets life .

In a telephone box on Balne Lane, the relentless sound of the hard rain on the roof, you make two calls and one appointment, thinking -

Jack, Jack, Jack -

The relentless sound of the rain on the roof, thinking -

Not here .

There is a Leeds & Bradford A-Z open on your lap. Your notes and photocopies are on the passenger seat beside you. You are driving through the back and side streets of Morley -

It is Saturday but there are no children.

You come down Church Street to the junction with Victoria Road and Rooms Lane. You turn right on to Victoria Road. You park outside Morley Grange Junior and Infants School, under the steeple of a black church -

The rain falling through the dark, quiet trees .

You look at your notes. You start the car.

‘Clare Kemplay was last seen on Thursday 12 December 1974, walking down Victoria Road towards her home -’

You follow Victoria Road along -

Past the Sports Ground, past Sandmead Close.

‘Clare was ten years old with long straight fair hair and blue eyes, wearing an orange waterproof kagool, a dark blue turtleneck sweater -’

You glance at your notes again -

You indicate left.

‘Pale blue denim trousers with a distinctive eagle motif on the back left pocket and red Wellington boots -’

You turn into Winterbourne Avenue -

It is a cul-de-sac of nine or ten houses; some detached, some not.

‘She was carrying a plastic Co-op carrier bag containing a pair of black gym shoes.’

A cul-de-sac.

You park outside number 3, Winterbourne Avenue.

There is a For Sale sign stuck in the tiny front lawn.

You get out. You walk up the drive. You ring the doorbell.

There is no answer.

A woman in the next house opens her front door: ‘You interested in the house?’

‘No,’ you shout back over the low hedge and drives. ‘I’m looking for the Kemplays?’

‘The Kemplays?’

‘Yeah.’

‘They moved years ago.’

‘You don’t know where, do you?’

‘Down South.’

‘You remember when?’

‘When do you bloody think?’ she says and slams her front door.