'Oh, I've talked to him. He's coming round with fish and chips.'
Jon nodded. 'I'll brew up again.'
He wandered into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. The appliance began to tick as electricity warmed the element inside. Soon it began to rumble quietly, the bubbling sounds picking up in strength to something that resembled a roar before the kettle turned itself off. The noise he'd heard on the moor came back to him and he couldn't keep thoughts of the case from his head. Had it been Field making the sound? He must have written the word Kuririkana on the rocks, but who had scrubbed it off? Sutton? Surely, if he was first to have discovered his wife's body, the letters would have been plain to see? Something was going on at that farm, no doubt about it.
As Jon poured fresh water into the pot the conviction grew.
'Field killed Sutton's wife? Why? The affair? That was of no concern to Field. His motive is revenge for past wrongs.'
'Talking to yourself, Jon?'
He turned to see Rick standing in the doorway.
'Did I say that out loud?'
Rick nodded. 'You know what they say about that. First signs of… ' His words dried up.
'What if Field killed Rose Sutton to get back at the husband? The message on the rock was for him, that's why he scrubbed it off.'
Rick shook his head. 'Leave it, Jon. There's dozens of officers tracking down Field. Talking of which, I'd better report back too, Summerby will be wondering where I am. Shall I call you tomorrow?'
'But we overlooked Sutton. Did his name go up on that whiteboard?'
Rick said nothing.
'It didn't. Listen Rick, I think the man could be the key to this. He's hiding something, I'm certain.'
Rick sighed in frustration. 'Jon, drop it. Enough's enough. Your wife is upstairs, remember?'
'Ten minutes with Sutton. That's all I need.'
Rick held up a hand. 'Jon, you've been going on about your wife being exhausted and obsessed. Look in the bloody mirror. You're on your last legs and you're still harping on about the case. That doctor should have been giving sleeping tablets to you as well.'
Jon looked into the other man's eyes. 'I can't drop it.'
'You don't have a choice.'
Jon put the teapot back down. 'I've got a feeling about this, Rick.'
He pushed past his partner and walked into the front room. Holly was fast asleep in his mum's arms. 'Mum, can you give Holly her next bottle? I need to pop out.'
'Pop out? Where?'
His mum and sister were staring at him in disbelief.
'To see someone. I'll be an hour, two at the very most.'
'But Alice is-'
'Alice is asleep, Mum. She won't stir until the morning, you heard Doctor Shaw.'
Ellie's face was showing anger. 'Jon, get a bloody grip. You can't be serious.'
'Listen to her, Jon. She's right.' Rick's voice, behind him. Jon felt his resolve falter. He crossed the room and sat down.
They're right, what was I thinking? But then he caught sight of the windows and the darkness beyond. This thing started on the moors and that's where it'll end. He got back up. 'Two hours. I'll be back in two hours.'
Silence as he crossed the room.
'You coming?' he asked Rick as he reached for the keys to
Alice's car.
His partner shook his head in reply.
Fuck you then, Jon thought, slamming the door behind him. Outside he paused. If you're going to feel like shit, you might as well do it properly. He reached for his cigarettes and jammed one into his mouth. After reversing out on to the street he pushed the dashboard lighter in and hit the accelerator.
The traffic was light as he turned on to the main road. He glanced at the clock. Jesus, ten past seven. The M60 came into view, a trickle of cars gliding along in its orange glow. Jon steered off the slip road and rapidly cut across to the fast lane. Smoke curled up from the cigarette held in his right hand before being sucked out of the crack in the side window.
He kept his thoughts on Sutton, knowing if he didn't guilt would force him from the motorway and back to his house. The turn off for Bredbury shot past and his phone started to ring. Rick's name on the screen. Jon toyed with ignoring it, sure it would only be his partner having a go. He dragged deeply on the cigarette and flipped the phone open.
'Jon, where are you?'
'M60, just past Bredbury.'
'I just got a call from the station. Some uniforms patrolling the banks of the Medlock spotted something on the edge of Oldham Golf Course.'
'Something?'
'They're not sure what. One thought it was a person. The other reckons it was a big cat. He swears it had a tail. Anyway, whatever it was, it raced off across the fairway. The helicopter's been called out, dogs, armed response. Everyone's heading over there.'
Jon kept his foot on the accelerator. The turn-off leading to Saddleworth Moor was up ahead. 'I'm carrying on to Sutton's farm.'
He hung up before Rick could respond.
Thirty-Seven
As he reached the top of the empty moor, the red light of the radio mast came into view. In the blackness behind it a pale light glowed in the sky. Dark clouds slowly shifted and a ghostly moon was revealed. At least it's not full, he thought. Faint light seeped down, coating the moor in a silvery sheen and emphasising the shadows pooled in every dip of the wild landscape.
He pressed on, reaching the other side of the plateau a few minutes later. The road curled down towards Holme and soon the track to Sutton's farm appeared on his left. Jon bumped along it before swinging the vehicle round to the farm buildings. A fence, topped with barbed wire, blocked the way into the courtyard. As he came to a halt, security lights mounted high on the walls switched on.
He got out of the car, immediately aware of the sounds of sheep in the barns. Several lights shone in the farmhouse itself. A gate was built into the fence and an open padlock was hanging from the links. Cautiously, he swung it open. 'Hello? Mr Sutton? DI Spicer, Manchester Police.'
As he rounded the corner of the farmhouse Sutton's border collie, Chip began to bark, a chain tying it to the kennel behind. More security lights came on to reveal Andrew Du Toit. He was standing in the doorway to the farmhouse, a rifle levelled at Jon.
'Fuck, didn't know who you were. We're just locking up for the night.'
As he lowered the weapon, Jon breathed out. Anger replaced his feelings of shock. 'You always walk round with a loaded gun?'
'Mostly.'
'Is Ken here?'
'Inside.'
As Jon walked across the courtyard he noticed that each barn was full of sheep. Fencing had been erected in the gaps between the buildings, barbed wire snaking along the top. This isn't to keep the sheep in, Jon thought. It's to keep something out.
The kitchen was the same as before, except for some sort of monitor set up next to the pair of walkie-talkies. Jon carried through into the front room, the mounted heads of dead animals staring down at him from every wall. Sutton was in the chair by the fire, a rifle with telescopic sights leaning against the wall. His gaze shifted briefly to Jon then returned to the flames. His eyes seemed almost to shut and Jon thought he looked more gaunt and strained since the last time he saw him in that chair.
'Mr Sutton, we need to talk.' The man didn't answer.
Jon sat down opposite him. 'You know more about these killings than you've admitted. I need to know the truth before someone else dies.'
Sutton snorted as Andrew moved across the room and settled on the sofa. Jon pondered which angle to take. There wasn't a lot he could do if Sutton chose to stonewall him. He needed to provoke a reaction. 'Why did you remove the word Kuririkana from the rocks by your wife's body?'
Sutton's half-closed eyelids moved slightly.
'You won't realise this, but the same word was written at the scenes of Derek Peterson's and Trevor Kerrigan's murders. It also appeared at the bottom of a suicide note left by one Danny Gordon.'