AVA WALKED HOME AGAINST THE barrage of car headlights. As she was about to cross Park Way, headlights flashed at her from the patch of grass on the roadside, and she spied Suzi parked on it. DS Delahaye exited the car and leaned against the driver’s door, the little light illuminating DC Lines in the passenger seat. The fact they were here, waiting for her in the freezing dark, was not a good sign.
With tentative steps, she approached the car. DS Delahaye opened the back door for her and she climbed in. DS Delahaye kept the interior light on – was this to be her interrogation?
‘How did you find me?’ Ava said. ‘If I’m late home I’m deep in the sh—poo.’
‘Veronica told us you were in detention,’ said DC Lines. ‘She said you’re moving to Frankley soon – exciting times, ay?’
‘Yes,’ said Ava. Her gaze was fixed on DS Delahaye.
‘I promise you aren’t in any trouble, Ava,’ DS Delahaye said. ‘But I need to know for certain and I want you to tell me the truth: are you Miss Misty?’
‘Yes,’ she said.
Lines grinned. ‘Christ, Ava.’
‘And are you one of the two children who called in the discovery of Bryan Shelton’s body?’ DS Delahaye asked.
‘Yes,’ said Ava, and, without warning, burst into tears. It was as if she had been waiting for DS Delahaye to ask this question, as if he’d given her permission to finally feel. But it was only temporary relief – she was still in big trouble.
For a moment, the detectives didn’t know what to do. Eventually, DS Delahaye handed Ava a clean handkerchief.
‘If you don’t stop crying, you’ll start DC Lines off and he cries like a gargoyle.’
Ava laughed through her tears. She wiped her face and began to calm down, hiccoughing every so often, feeling strangely cleansed, and very, very tired.
‘How did you know I was Miss Misty?’ she murmured.
‘The 999 call recording had your voice in the background. And then on the last Miss Misty telephone call, the gasp you made at the end of it was your voice, Ava. It confirmed my suspicions. And you and Luke were the only people outside of CID who knew Miss Misty was the name we gave our mystery caller.’ DS Delahaye grinned, and Ava allowed that infectious dimple to win her over just this once. ‘We’ve always known it was you and a friend who’d found Bryan’s body, that it was you who saved his hand. You’re just too Ava to miss, sweetheart.’
‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ she asked.
‘Because you did us all a favour,’ said DC Lines. ‘You did all the right things, bab. I don’t know how you know what you know but thank God you do.’
‘But why Miss Misty?’ asked DS Delahaye.
‘If I’d used my real voice, you’d have dismissed me,’ said Ava. ‘I have to sound grown up to get anything done.’
The men didn’t respond to this admission, perhaps because they knew it was true.
‘How’d you find Mickey, Ava? Why were you out in the streets at half two in the morning when you should’ve been in bed?’ asked DS Delahaye.
Ava took a shuddering breath. ‘I can’t tell you. I want you to think well of me.’
DC Lines and DS Delahaye exchanged a nonplussed glance. ‘Ava, we already think well of you,’ said DS Delahaye. ‘That can’t change.’
‘It might,’ said Ava. ‘I’m not a normal girl.’
‘Normal’s useless,’ said DS Delahaye. ‘If you were normal, we’d still be looking for Mickey Grant.’
So, Ava told them. She told them about her roadkill body farm, about her Red Book of observations. About the night she went out to observe the fox and finding Mickey’s body. How on the day she and her friend (she still wouldn’t say John’s name) were going to the Rezza to collect frogspawn, she’d used her acute sense of smell to locate Bryan Shelton. How she recognised the importance of preserving the boy’s hand from further damage. She told them about her interest in clinical lycanthropy and her obsession with bones. She told them she’d called the killer The Wolf.
But she didn’t tell them about the War Room because she didn’t want them to know she and John had been conducting their own investigation into the murders. She wanted to continue doing so. The detectives listened and any judgements they made of her she couldn’t read from their faces. DS Delahaye looked amazed, and an awestruck DC Lines lit a cigarette, shaking his head in wonder.
‘I’d love to have a look at your Red Books, Ava,’ said Delahaye.
‘Did Gary Clarke have a dog with him when he was found?’ Ava asked.
‘Yes, a stillborn puppy,’ said Lines. ‘But that’s a secret from the public, like the others.’
‘So that when people call in claiming to be the real killer, they have to tell you this secret to prove they are?’ asked Ava.
‘Yes,’ said Lines.
‘The killer hasn’t killed for a while,’ she said. ‘And he’s due new prey, you know.’
The detectives exchanged a glance then Delahaye said: ‘Have you heard of Keith Magaw, Ava?
Ava frowned. ‘He was in the news. Isn’t he the runaway who was hit by a car?’
‘Yes. He’s in a coma, and we won’t know for sure until he wakes up, but we believe him to be a surviving victim of The Wolf, as you call him. There’s evidence to suggest that Keith was held captive for a few days, treated for his injuries, even fed. He escaped and that’s when he was hit by the car. Ava, this is confidential information and it won’t be in the news . . . ’
‘I know,’ said Ava. It was apparent Delahaye trusted her as much as she trusted John, and she felt honoured. But Keith was a total shift in The Wolf’s pattern. Why save this boy and not kill him?
‘The same kind of concrete grit found beneath Keith’s fingernails matches that found beneath the nails of Bryan and Gary,’ said Lines.
‘The lair,’ said Ava.
‘Keith kept a diary,’ said Delahaye. ‘He referred to it in it as “dungeon”.’
Below ground, thought Ava. ‘Do you think the dungeon is on Banlock Farm?’
‘We’ve searched around it,’ said Delahaye. ‘We used Ground Penetrating Radar after you found those graves, and again right across the property. We found nothing except dog bones.’
‘Do you think Mr Coleman has anything to do with it?’ she asked quietly.
‘We feel he’s connected to the murders without him being the murderer,’ said Delahaye.
‘You need to find the lair,’ said Ava. ‘And I still wonder who put the daisies and the cat skull on the graves.’
‘It could be a well-meaning member of the public who found those graves before you did,’ said Lines.
‘I suppose so. And all of his family are dead . . . ’ said Ava.
The detectives swapped glances. ‘We did find out that Mr Coleman has a grandson but he was adopted by a family in Staffordshire when he was a toddler,’ said Delahaye. ‘He’d be a teenager by now.’
Ava logged this information, surprised by it, her curiosity wanting to sniff around it and track it. She also itched to share with the detectives the black teddy bear but she couldn’t – not yet. As Miss Misty, as an anonymous advisor, she was confident and sure of her words but as plain old Ava, not at all. She needed to be sure about who brought the bear to Mr Coleman and then she would immediately tell them about it if there was anything to tell. She intended to see Mr Coleman again and, in doing so, see Maureen too. It had to be early morning again – because of the cold weather and the early dark evenings, her mother didn’t like her going out except to walk Fizz. The blinker lights ticked, revealing the view beyond in orange flashes.
‘You won’t tell my mom, will you, about my being Miss Misty and . . . all the stuff about bones?’
‘Only if you promise not to be Miss Misty ever again,’ said Delahaye, and she nodded at him in the rear-view mirror. ‘If you feel inspired to help us, just be yourself.’
‘I will. I promise.’
Delahaye turned in his seat and regarded her with such pride she blushed.
‘Let’s get you home,’ said Lines, and Suzi roared to life.