A Body In The Lane

  A Body In The Lane

  P.F. Ford

  Copyright © 2021 P.F. Ford

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events in this book are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real life counterparts is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ____________

  Cover design by JS Designs

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Want More Norman Norman?

  Free Novella Offer

  Also by P.F. Ford

  About the Author

  Prologue

  The powerful motorcycle roared along the road, the rider stooping as low as he could to reduce drag from the wind. Then he sat more upright as he slowed to take the turning ahead, leaning left as he steered the bike off the main road and into a narrow, tree-lined lane. Using his booted feet to steady the bike, he allowed it to slow to a stop, flipped up the visor of his crash helmet and took his first look at the legendary Dragon Barn Lane.

  Coming up to eighteen years of age, Billy Hopkins was motorbike mad. His dream was to join the Bare Back Riders club, and proudly wear the BBR tattoo, but to become a member he had to descend almost two miles from the barn at the top of the hill down here to the main road in less than two minutes.

  A mile and a half in two minutes sounded easy enough, but the lane was narrow, with straight sections and enough twists and turns to satisfy the keenest roller coaster rider. And, to earn the right to wear the tattoo, the ride had to be completed under official BBR timed conditions, without a crash helmet.

  They had told him no-one ever used the lane and that the barn at the top was derelict so he could practise the descent whenever he wanted. Aware of the risks of flying downhill around hairpin bends, and safe in the knowledge no-one would watch, Billy intended to wear his crash helmet, just until he was confident, of course.

  Billy blipped the throttle twice and looked up at the sky through the branches of the trees above him. The light was already fading, but he thought he could get two or three practice runs in before dark if he got a move on.

  He flipped his visor back down, opened the throttle and roared off along the first straight, emerging from under the trees to find the first slow, twisty section, then along another straight to an impossibly narrow hairpin bend, that made him slow to a crawl. Then he was opening the throttle on the next straight section.

  Billy could just make out where the narrow road disappeared around the next corner, when suddenly a vehicle appeared, coming from the opposite direction. He had been told no-one ever used the lane, and he was so surprised it took a few seconds to realise what was happening, but by then he was almost on top of the vehicle.

  Billy braked hard, but only managed to put the bike into a slide. He did his best to keep away from the other vehicle, but at the last moment the driver jerked the steering wheel to the right, causing a glancing blow which sent both bike and rider flying through the long grass that bordered the lane.

  The vehicle had slowed considerably before it hit the sliding bike, but now it came to a halt and the driver leaned out of the window to see what had happened to the bike rider. Then the driver put the vehicle into reverse and crawled backwards through the grass in the wake of the fallen bike and rider.

  Laying in the long grass, bruised, winded, ears ringing, Billy couldn’t quite believe he was still alive. He tried moving his arms and legs and was surprised to find they worked. Stiffly and rather unsteadily, he climbed to his feet. Looking around, he could see the vehicle that had just knocked him off his bike was reversing towards him.

  Good. He was going to need help to get his bike out of here, and then he was going to have some choice words to say to the idiot driver. He undid his crash helmet and was just taking it off when he realised something wasn’t right. Instead of stopping, the vehicle was speeding up.

  The last thing Billy felt was the agonising pain as the vehicle crashed into him.

  Chapter 1

  Detective Constable Judy Lane leaned back in her chair, stretched, yawned expansively, and then looked at her wristwatch. It was 21.00. It had taken much longer to write her report than she had intended, and she now she was starving and wished she’d eaten before she had started.

  She tidied her already immaculately neat desk, gathered her things together and climbed slowly, and stiffly, to her feet. God, she was tired, but now it was done. At least she could sleep with a clear conscience.

  She crossed the shared office that doubled as their incident room, slipped on her coat, switched the lights off and pushed through the doors into the corridor. And then, just as the doors swung closed behind her, the office telephone rang.

  Lane cursed quietly. Just a few more seconds and she would have been out of there. For a second or two, she thought about ignoring it, but she was far too dedicated to her job to give the idea serious consideration. With a heavy sigh, she turned on her heel, pushed her way back through the doors, and snatched up the nearest phone.

  'Llangwelli station, DC Lane speaking.'

  'Good evening. This is Sergeant Davis from the Regional Call Centre. We’ve had a call put through to us for urgent investigation, but we’ve got no uniforms available, and it’s in your area.'

  'We’ve got no uniforms here either, sir,' said Lane. 'Just like your guys, ours is helping to deal with this massive rave that’s going on.'

  'But you’re there,' said Davis.

  Lane’s heart sank.

  'Yes, I’ve been working late, but I was just going home.'

  'I don’t think so,' said Davis. 'Unless you’re telling me you’re going to refuse to do your duty.'

  Lane put her hand over the receiver, swore softly, then removed her hand so he could hear her.

  'No, sergeant,' she said wearily. 'Of course, I won’t refuse to do my duty. Can you give me some details?'

  'It’s a bit of a weird one. Apparently, the caller dialled 999, but when the operator answered, there was silence on the other end. At first she thought it was a prank call, but, as she listened, she thought she could hear ragged breathing. This worried her, so she flagged it up to me. I’ve tried calling the phone, but it seems to be dead. However, we have tracked the phone’s last location; that’s how we know it’s in your area.'

  'What’s the location?'

  'As far as we can tell, the call came from somewhere along a lane called Dragon Barn Lane. D’you know it?'

  'Not off the top of my head,' said Lane. 'Have you got a postcode, or grid reference?'

  She made a note on her mobile phone as Davis reeled off a grid reference.

  'Any idea what I might find?' asked Lane.

  'At first I thought it could be a heavy breather,' said Davis, 'but they usually hang up after a few seconds.'

  'What if it’s someone in danger and they can’t talk?' asked Lane.

  'That’s a possibility,' said Davis, 'but whatever it is, we won’t know until you get out there, will we? Or is there some problem I should know about?'

  'No, sergeant, there’s no problem. I’m just trying to make sure I know what I’m getting myself
into.'

  'Well, now you know as much as I know, so get out there and do your job.'

  As Lane returned the telephone to its cradle, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

  Since DI Southall and DS Norman had arrived, she had made herself so useful inside the office doing case management that she rarely ventured outside. On the rare occasions she went out, she was always the subordinate officer and was never alone. But this time she was very much alone, and this brought back some uncomfortable memories.

  'Come on, Judy, you can do this,' she muttered, as she made her way out to the car park and climbed into her car. 'Someone needs your help. It's what you trained for. It's what you do.'

  She tapped the grid reference into the car’s navigation system and studied the map that popped onto the screen. Dragon Barn Lane was a narrow lane off the main road about three miles outside Llangwelli. On the map it appeared reasonably straight to begin with, but then twisted and turned more and more as it snaked up the hillside, finally petering out at a solitary building.

  Lane’s heart sank even lower as she realised there was zero chance of there being any street lights to aid her search.

  'Terrific,' she muttered as she started the car and put it into gear. 'I’ll be groping around in the dark. That’s all I need.'

  Fifteen minutes later, she turned off the main road into Dragon Barn Lane and wondered how many times she must have driven past this turning and not even noticed it. Once in the lane, she stopped the car and peered ahead into the gloom. In the glare of the car’s headlights she could see this first part of the lane was lined with gnarled old beech trees which formed a cathedral-like arch over the narrow ribbon of tarmac that stretched ahead of her.

  She drove slowly through the trees, following the lane as it narrowed, curved to the right, back to the left, and then straightened out again. She stopped again, and gazed ahead where she could just about make out overgrown grass verges on either side of the lane with tumbledown stone walls beyond. Beyond the reach of the car’s headlights, it was pitch black. She looked up at the sky, which was enveloped in such thick cloud not a single star could be seen.

  Swallowing hard, and offering a silent prayer to imaginary rain gods in the hope they might delay the imminent deluge, she released the brake and allowed the car to crawl slowly forward. As she peered out at the verges, it soon became apparent they were uneven in width, and in some places, the stone walls were so close she could almost reach out of the window and touch them.

  She turned another sharp corner and found herself on yet another straight stretch, but here the verges widened so she could no longer see the stone walls - they could have been yards away, or miles away, she just couldn’t tell.

  She drove along this straight stretch for a hundred yards until something caught her eye. The assorted vegetation growing on the verge had been knee high until this point, but now it looked as if someone, or something, had gone off the road and across the verge, creating a wide path in its wake.

  Lane stopped the car and tried to make out what had happened but, even after she had spent several minutes manoeuvring the car into a better position, she still couldn’t make out what she was looking at. It was no good. She was going to have to do the thing she dreaded most; leave the car and explore on foot.

  She fumbled around under her seat for the torch she kept there, fished it out and switched it on and off to make sure it worked. Her hands were trembling, but she knew if she let her fear get the better of her now, she’d never overcome it.

  'I’m not a coward,' she told herself loudly. 'Anyone would feel the same in the circumstances. I’m not a coward.'

  She popped the door open, stepped into the darkness, and pushed the car door closed. Then it occurred to her there was one more thing she really needed to do before she set off. She reached into her pocket for her mobile phone, breathing an enormous sigh of relief when she saw there was a reasonable signal. She scrolled through her contacts until she found the right one and pressed the button to make the call.

  Holding the phone to her ear, and the torch in her other hand pointing ahead, she took a few tentative steps away from the car. She had expected to hear the ring tone for quite a while, so it startled her when it was answered almost straight away.

  'Yo, this is Norm,' said the familiar, reassuring voice.

  'Hi, Sarge. I’m really sorry to call you this late, but you’ve always said we should call if ever we feel we may be at risk.'

  'Is that you, Judy? Where are you? What risk?'

  'I was working late catching up on my reports when the Regional Call centre called. They needed someone to respond, and there was no-one else available, so here I am.'

  'What’s the call?'

  'Mobile phone call from the middle of nowhere. They think it might be someone in trouble.'

  'It could just as easily be some sort of trap,' said Norman.

  As she walked, Lane could see something which, at first, she couldn’t quite make out.

  'It looks as if a vehicle may have gone off the road just here,' she said, before adding, 'oh, hang on, what’s this? It’s okay, Norm, this isn’t a trap. There’s been an accident; I can see a motorcycle on its side.'

  'And you say there’s no-one available to help you?'

  'Every uniform for miles around is dealing with a rave which is in danger of turning into a riot. They’re even calling in day shift guys.'

  'Jeez, they’ll be a merry bunch,' said Norman. 'But you shouldn’t be on your own. I’ll come and help. Where are you?'

  'I’m all right—'

  'Don’t argue, Judy. Just tell me where you are.'

  'A place called Dragon Barn Lane.'

  'Where is that? I’ve never heard of it.'

  'Nor had I until half an hour ago. It’s off the main drag about three miles out of town. I’ll text you the grid reference.'

  'Right,' said Norman. 'Send it to me now and I’ll be on my way. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.'

  'I’ll be easy to find. I’m on a lane leading nowhere and mine is the only car for miles.'

  'If it’s that remote, this could still be a trap. I think you’d best go back to your car and sit tight. I’m on my way.'

  As she slipped the phone back into her pocket, her car headlights switched from full beam to sidelights. Close to panic, she held her breath and froze, then felt a fool as she remembered this was exactly what the car’s ''e-function'' lights were supposed to do.

  She let out her held breath and recalled Norman’s warning, but she didn’t go back to her car. If there was a crashed motorcycle, that meant there had to be a rider somewhere nearby, and she’d probably wasted too much time already.

  >>>>>>>>

  Llangwelli is a small harbour town that relies on tourism to survive, but at 21.30 on a weekday in January there are few visitors around. Even the locals tend not to stray too far from home at this time of year, so the roads are often empty, especially after dark. This meant Norman could put his foot to the floor and speed, unimpeded, to the scene.

  As he slowed to turn off the main road on to Dragon Barn Lane, Norman glanced at the dashboard clock and was pleased to see it was 21.49. Nineteen minutes to reach a place he’d never even heard of was pretty good going.

  The lane was even narrower than he had expected, and the overhanging trees turned what was already a dark night into one of inky blackness, which even his headlights didn’t seem to penetrate fully. Muttering darkly about how this place gave him the creeps, he followed the narrow road through the trees and around several sharp turns until, at last, he saw the red tail reflectors of Judy Lane's parked car.

  Norman pulled up behind the car, expecting to see her climb from the car as he arrived, but nothing happened. Grabbing the torch he had brought with him, he jumped from his car to be greeted by an eerie, silent stillness. He peered into her car, but she was nowhere to be seen. This wasn’t really a surprise, as he knew it was extremely unlikely she would sit tight, knowing
an injured rider could be nearby. Even so, he felt uneasy.

  He figured she couldn’t be far, so he called out to her.

  'Judy! It’s Norm. Where are you?'

  He listened hard for a reply, but all he heard was more suffocating silence. Swinging the torch around, he spotted the area of flattened grass verge she had mentioned. He guessed that must be where she saw the motorcycle, so he hurried that way.

  It didn’t take him long to find the fallen motorcycle, but there was no rider, and no Judy Lane. Slowly, he swung the torch around, looking for clues. A rough path through the long grass caught his eye and suggested someone may have walked that way. Almost running now, he followed the path for a few yards until he saw a man dressed in motorcycle leathers sitting back against a tree.

  He ran the last couple of steps to the man, knelt beside him and felt his neck for a pulse, but there was none. Feeling how cold the man was, Norman understood he could do nothing for him, and returned his attention to finding Judy Lane.

  Jumping to his feet, he called her name again, but still there was no reply. Desperately, he fumbled his mobile phone from his pocket. Miraculously he had a signal, so he found her number, pressed call, and held the phone to his left ear as the ring tone began.

  It was fully ten seconds before Norman realised he could hear the ring tone in his left ear and, more faintly, another ring tone in his right ear. The two ring tones were in sync, but the fainter one was a different, more musical sound. He took the phone away from his left ear, listened hard, and then followed the music which was coming from behind the tree where the body was sitting.