Stuart Harrison - Lost Summer

‘Have you considered the possibility that that fact in itself may very well explain what happened here? A young man whose judgement is impaired by alcohol gets behind the wheel of a car. His inexperience leads to the accident.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s tragic, but I’m afraid not unusual.’

On the face of it, her logic made sense, Adam had to admit. Except that Dr Keller hadn’t known Ben Pierce the way Helen had.

‘Anyway, I don’t see anything unusual here,’ Dr Keller said at length. ‘The injuries are consistent with those I would expect to see with victims of a road accident.’

Adam examined the picture of Ben, looking in particular at a black mark between his neck and shoulder. Other than this blemish he appeared uninjured. ‘What is that, a cut?’ Streaks of what he assumed was blood ran away from the wound and down across his shoulder and ribcage.

‘Yes.’ Dr Keller referred to her notes. ‘There were traces of paint in the wound that matched samples from the vehicle. The wound itself is around six inches long, and penetrates to a depth of almost an inch. About half of it appears to be a clean cut, the edges are more or less neatly severed. The rest is messier, more jagged.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘My guess would be that it was caused by a section of metal from the wreck. It was forced in like so.’ She demonstrated what she meant by pointing her hand and thrusting downwards towards the space between her own neck and shoulder. ‘The angle of entry suggests it might have come from the roof. Then, forced by the momentum of the crash it cut through the flesh towards the base of the neck.’ She slashed towards her own neck with the tips of her fingers. ‘That would have produced this jagged section of the wound. It was this that killed him by the way. The artery was partially severed. Other than that this young man suffered only a few minor abrasions, apart from a blow to the head, which very likely rendered him unconscious. Though it wouldn’t have killed him.’

‘So, you’re saying cause of death was what exactly?’

‘He bled to death. Probably over several hours.’

Adam thought about that. ‘He was found in the driver’s seat, I believe, still wearing his seatbelt. If it took so long for him to die, why didn’t he get out of the car? Wouldn’t you expect him to go for help?’

‘As I said, he was probably already unconscious. With the amount of blood that he lost, I doubt that he ever came around.’

‘But it took several hours before he died?’

‘I would say so.’

Adam looked at the photographs of the other two bodies, and something about them struck him. Both Keith Frost and Simon Davies appeared to have suffered more visible injuries than Ben. They were each marked with a mass of what looked like bruises and abrasions. He pointed it out. ‘Isn’t that odd?’

‘Actually there is a logical explanation. They were both found some distance from the car. My guess is that neither of them was wearing a seatbelt. The first time the car rolled the doors probably popped open like the ends of a can and they were thrown out. It happens all the time. That partly accounts for their more obvious injuries. Both were killed almost instantly by the way, and both from a massive trauma to the head.’

‘You said partly,’ Adam said. ‘Partly accounts for their injuries.’

‘Yes. Some of these injuries occurred prior to the accident. About two or three days earlier I’d say. Mostly bruising and abrasions, some minor facial cuts, though one of them had a cracked rib.’

‘Any idea how they might have happened?’

She pursed her lips. ‘If I had to guess? I’d say they were probably in a fight. Quite a violent one.’ She paused for a moment, her brow furrowed in a puzzled frown.

‘What is it?’

‘It’s probably nothing. But I did wonder at the time why one of these two young men hadn’t been driving. Perhaps then we wouldn’t be sitting here now.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Well, neither of them showed any trace of alcohol in his blood,’ she said, and then saw his expression. ‘I thought you knew that. I suppose these injuries could be the explanation. Perhaps neither of them was up to it.’

He pondered her theory, but it didn’t make a lot of sense. It looked as if Frost and Davies had taken some punishment, but hardly enough that they’d allow someone high on a cocktail of drugs and booze to get behind the wheel. Especially if that person didn’t know how to drive.

‘You look sceptical,’ Dr Keller observed.

‘It’s my nature. But you said yourself that these older injuries on the other two were mostly cuts and abrasions.’

‘Yes.’ She looked again at the pictures. ‘As I said, it did strike me as unusual at the time. An anomaly shall we say.’

‘But not enough to raise in your report?’

‘No. The facts are inescapable. Ben Pierce was found in the driver’s seat. Both of the others were thrown clear before the car came to rest. The evidence at the site, and the injuries I recorded during my examination of the bodies both there and here confirm that.’

‘There’s no chance any of them were moved?’

Dr Keller frowned. ‘Moved?’

‘Perhaps they were switched. Perhaps one of the others was driving.’

‘Why would anyone do that? Besides, it isn’t possible. As I said, the evidence is clear. Both of these young men were in the back seat before they were thrown clear. I found fragments of tissue and clothing away from the wreck that clearly showed where each of them had fallen. I’m afraid there’s no mistake.’

Nevertheless, Adam thought, he had come looking for answers and instead had found one more thing that didn’t make sense. He thanked Dr Keller for her help, but as he left the hospital he was beginning to think that perhaps Helen’s misgivings were justified. Something about this didn’t feel right.

The police station in Castleton occupied a plain, purpose-built building behind the town’s only supermarket. On one side a metal gate opened to a small area where a police Range Rover with the Cumbrian police insignia on the door was parked. Adam went inside and pressed a buzzer on the counter and a few moments later a young police constable appeared.

‘Can I help you, sir?’

‘My name’s Adam Turner, I’m a journalist and I’m looking into an accident that happened near here in September. Three university students were killed.’

‘Yes. I remember that.’

‘I was hoping I could speak to the officer who attended the scene.’

‘Just a moment.’

The constable disappeared and a few minutes later a man wearing the uniform of a sergeant appeared. He wore a curious, uncertain expression and there was something familiar about him, which it took Adam a moment to place. He was heavier than when Adam had last seen him, more solid, and his once rosy cheeks were more ruddy and weathered now, but it was unmistakeably Graham. For a moment he gaped in surprise. It was Graham who spoke first, extending his hand across the counter.

‘Hello, Adam.’

They shook hands. Of course Adam had expected to run into them all sooner or later. Graham and Nick, and of course David. Somehow he’d known they wouldn’t have moved away. But he hadn’t been prepared for this. ‘Sorry,’ he said, realizing how he must look. ‘It’s the uniform that threw me there for a minute.’

‘I joined when I was eighteen,’ Graham said. ‘I didn’t know what else I wanted to do really. It was either this or an apprenticeship.’

‘Looks like you did the right thing,’ Adam said, gesturing to the stripes on Graham’s sleeve.

‘I got these a year or two ago when they moved me back here from Brampton. It’s not exactly Scotland Yard, but it’s not a bad life. We don’t get the sort of problems they have in the city, thank God. Not yet anyway.’ He looked around, perhaps pondering the surroundings where he could probably expect the rest of his career to be played out. ‘What about you, Adam, where are you living now?’