‘Were you on duty when he died?’ I asked.
He shook his head.
‘So, you went to see him at the morgue?’
‘Yeah, once he’d been ID’d. It took a week and a half to get confirmation on the dental records.’
‘You actually saw his body?’
‘What was left of it. His hands, his feet, his face — they were all just bone. Some of his organs were still intact, but the rest of him…’ Cary looked out at the fields. ‘They reckon the tank must have ruptured when the car hit the field. It was why the fire consumed everything so quickly.’ He glanced at me, sadness in his eyes. ‘You know how hard you have to hit something in order to rupture a petrol tank?’
I shook my head.
‘That car looked like it had been through a crusher. The whole thing was folded in on itself. Old model like that: no airbag, no side impact bars…’ He paused again. ‘I just hope it was quick.’
We stood silent for a moment. His eyes drifted to the space where the car must have landed, and then — eventually — back to me.
‘He’d been drinking,’ I said. ‘Is that right?’
He nodded. ‘Toxicology put him at four times over the legal limit.’
‘Did you see the autopsy report?’
‘Yeah.’
‘It was definitely him?’
He looked at me like I was from another planet. ‘What do you think?’
I paused for a moment.
‘What are the chances of me getting hold of some of the paperwork?’
A little air escaped from between his lips, as if he couldn’t believe I’d had the balls or stupidity to ask. ‘Low.’
‘What about unofficially?’
‘Still low. I go into the system, it gets logged. I print something out, it gets logged. And why would I anyway? You’re about as qualified to be running around, chasing down leads, as Coco the fucking clown.’
He shook his head, astonished into silence. I didn’t say anything more, just nodded to show that I took his point, but didn’t necessarily agree.
‘Strange he should end up dying so close to home.’
Cary looked at me. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean, he disappears — completely disappears — for all that time… I would have expected him to have turned up somewhere further afield. Instead he dies on your doorstep. Maybe he even stayed nearby the whole, time he was gone.’
‘He didn’t stay around here.’
‘But he died around here.’
‘He was on his way through to somewhere.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘If he’d been staying around here, I would’ve known about it. Sooner or later, someone somewhere would’ve seen him. It would’ve got back to me.’
I nodded — but didn’t agree. Cary was just one man in a local area of thirty or forty square miles. If you wanted to, you could easily disappear in that kind of space and never be found.
‘So, where do you think he went?’
Cary frowned. ‘Didn’t I just answer that?’
‘You said not around here — so where?’
He shook his head and then shrugged.
‘Do you think there was any connection with your other friend’s disappearance?’
‘Simon?’
‘Yeah. Simon —’ I glanced at my notepad ‘— Mitchell.’
‘I doubt it.’
‘How come?’
‘Jeff tell you about him?’
‘He said he had a drug problem.’
He nodded.
‘He said he hit out at Kathy.’
He nodded again. ‘That night, we were all there. Simon didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, but when he tried to hit her, he crossed the line. Especially in Alex’s mind. That night was when we realized he had a serious problem. But by then he was too far gone. He promised to stop, but that was why eventually he left. He couldn’t stop. I don’t think he could face us any more — the way we used to look at him. Even after Alex left, things were never the same. So one day he just packed his bags and was gone. We only ever heard from him once after that.’
‘When?’
‘A long time after Alex disappeared. In fact, probably after he died. Simon had been in London all that time, in and out of whatever place would put a roof over his head.’
‘You tell him Alex was dead?’
‘Yeah. Didn’t register with him. He sounded strung out. Just kept going on about this guy he’d met who was going to help him.’
‘Did he say who the guy was?’
‘No. Just said he’d met him on the streets and they’d got talking. Sounded like this guy was trying to straighten him out.’
‘Do you think Simon followed Alex?’
His expression told me that it was the least likely thing he could imagine happening.
‘You’ve no idea where Simon lives these days?’
‘London.’
‘That narrows it down to about seven million people.’
Cary shrugged. ‘Playing detective ain’t easy.’
‘You ever tried to find him?’
‘I tried once. Didn’t get far. The one thing Simon and Alex did have in common was that neither of them wanted to be found.’
Cary raised his eyes to the skies. The first spots of rain were starting to fall. He pulled his jacket close to his body and zipped it up. Rain spattered off the shoulders, making a sound like pebbles caught in a tide.
We walked back to the car, and got in.
‘I did some asking around at the beginning,’ he said as we drove off, the field sliding away behind us. ‘I think you’ll struggle to find anyone who can give you a reason for Alex’s disappearance. It wasn’t like him to just leave everything behind. Not unless something was seriously wrong. That wasn’t how he was programmed.’
We drove the rest of the way in silence.
Cary had changed his mind by the time we got back to the station. I sat in an office full of paperwork and desks, most of them unmanned, while he used a computer close by to access Alex’s case file. At the other end of the room, there were four detectives with their backs to us. Two of them were on the phone. He glanced around at them, then to the door, then hit ‘Print’.
‘I’m willing to take a risk with this,’ he said. ‘But if anyone finds out I’ve given these to you, I’ll be taking early retirement.’
‘I understand.’
‘I hope you do.’
He got up and went to the printer, then came back with a stack of paper and slid it into a Manila folder he already had open on the desk. I took the file, keeping it low and in front of my body. He sat down at his desk again, looked around, then removed an unmarked DVD from his top drawer.
‘You might want to take a look at that too,’ he said, tossing it across the desk.
‘What is it?’
‘A video one of the fire crew shot of the crash site.’
I took the DVD and slipped it into the file, then held up the printouts. ‘Is there anything in here?’
He shrugged. ‘What do you think?’
‘You reckon it’s open and shut?’
He frowned. ‘Alex was drink-driving. Of course it’s open and shut.’
I nodded, and scanned the first page of the printout. When I looked up, he was staring at me, eyes narrowed.
‘Let me tell you something,’ he said, leaning across the desk. ‘The night of the crash, and for about three months after, I was balls-deep in a double murder. A woman and her daughter, both raped, both strangled, left in a field in the pissing rain for five days before anyone found them. Which case do you think my DCI wanted done first: those two women? Or some fucking drunk who couldn’t even keep to his own side of the road?’