‘Not this one,’ Stuart commented.
‘You could be right,’ Jay agreed, despondency in his voice. To Lauren, he said, ‘What’s your opinion concerning her behaviour?’
‘I don’t think her sexual appetite is important. We have something else to show you. Me and Stuart decided to have a look inside her house. We used the spare key. The rooms were clean and tidy. There was nothing disturbed, no traces of blood in any of the rooms. We came across a couple of birthday cards, some junk mail, a few bills … and this.’ She handed him an A6-size current diary. ‘It had slipped down between the cushion and the sofa.’
Jay thumbed the pages and paused to read banal daily entries. ‘The writing for April is more erratic. I can’t even read certain sections.’
‘Was it in the middle of March you saw her on Parson Lane?’
‘Good point, Stuart. Let me see … Here we are – March nineteen. She wrote: “Took Smarty out for his exercise. A car came at us both. Could have killed us. Handsome stranger rescued me. I should have been nicer to him. He reminds me of him, the one I loved. Guilt never goes away.”’
‘What guilt is she referring to?’
‘If only we knew the answer,’ Stuart said. ‘How are you going to proceed, Jay? I mean, you want to be sure she’s safe and unharmed.’
Jay shrugged. ‘According to this, her mother died in April and Kim didn’t attend the funeral.’
‘She never told us her mother had died,’ Lauren said. ‘Why did she miss the funeral?’
‘Hard to say. There may have been friction between Kim and the rest of the family. Perhaps we will never know.’ He quickly scanned the pages. ‘Following on from April there are some illegible scribbles on a few pages. The rest of the diary looks like it’s blank.’
‘I scrutinised every page,’ Lauren added. ‘I found short sentences on different pages. They didn’t make sense to me at first. I wrote them down. Stuart figured out the relevance of them almost straight away. The first one says, “We have twelve vacancies. Twelve cabins, twelve vacancies.” It’s a line from the Hitchcock film called, Psycho. Have you seen it?’
Jay shook his head. ‘I once read it was the most frightening film ever made.’
‘Stuart remembers it well. It scared him when he first saw it. I refuse to watch it … The next one says, “If you look in the mirror and say his name five times …” I Googled it and came up with Candyman, a film made in the nineteen-nineties and set in Chicago.’
‘What’s it about’ Jay asked.
‘The Candyman referred to is an urban legend. You say his name five times in a mirror and he murders you with a hook fixed to a stump on the end of his arm. He is the son of a slave. The son falls in love with a white girl who has a child to him. This goes back to the late 1800s when racism was a big issue in America. A lynch mob steal honey from an apiary and smear it all over the Candyman. The bees sting him to death while the mob chant and jeer.’
‘They’re old films for someone as young as Kim to have seen,’ Stuart commented. ‘Psycho came out in the early sixties.’
‘Maybe so,’ Lauren said. ‘It doesn’t make them any less scary. The last two quotes are close to each other. I thought they might be from the same film. They are, “I’m a woman trapped inside a man’s body,” and “Don’t make me a bad girl again.” A bit of digging around came up with the film, Dressed to Kill. I remember seeing it on TV. It tells the story of a transsexual who turns killer. Michael Caine plays the lead role. He’s a psychiatrist who wants to be a woman. He’s prevented from having a sex change by his male instincts, and if he’s turned on by a woman the female side of his personality is threatened.’
‘Shades of Psycho – the famous shower scene,’ Stuart added. ‘Mother takes her revenge. Is somebody murdered in a shower in Dressed to Kill?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Lauren replied. ‘There’s a grisly scene where one of the psychiatrist’s patients is slashed to death in a lift by a blonde wearing sunglasses.’
Jay shot up from his chair, walked to the window and back.
‘What is it?’ Stuart said. ‘Have you seen it, too?’
‘No … One of my hobbies is photography. I showed Kim some photos. One of them was taken in the Courtyard opposite the hotel where she works. There’s a blonde woman on it, wearing sunglasses. When I showed it to her she became anxious. Apparently, this woman asked questions that made her feel uneasy. Kim was spooked.’
‘What sort of questions?’ Stuart asked.
‘She asked Kim how long she had been living in Eaton Cross … What are we to make of it?
‘She might be suffering from a breakdown,’ Lauren offered.
‘It could be a case of schizophrenia,’ Stuart said. ‘Sufferers experience hallucinations and can misinterpret what’s being said to them. They often become delusional.’
Jay reflected on the options. ‘I don’t think she’s having a breakdown and I don’t believe she’s suffering from schizophrenia. However, we are not experts in mental disorders. Another explanation is drug abuse. How long has she been your neighbour?’
‘A year or so,’ Lauren said. ‘She’s a private person. We’ve become better acquainted over the last couple of months.’
‘Were there any signs of drug abuse or visits from unsavoury-looking characters?’
‘Not that we’re aware of.’
Jay mentioned his visit to Emma’s flat.
‘How do you know Kim was going there?’ Stuart asked.
‘I’d rather not say.’
Lauren and Stuart exchanged glances.
‘This friend of Kim’s seemed genuine enough,’ Jay went on. ‘I could be a fool for saying this, but I don’t think Kim was buying drugs from her. I wonder …’ He gathered his thoughts whilst pacing the room. Concentration hardened his features. He sat in the chair, elbows on knees, hands clasped. ‘It’s my belief that whatever is happening to her all started following the incident on Parson Lane. When I hear about ghosts, stalkers, her anxious condition and references to scary films, one word comes to mind – fear … And why would she kill an animal she loved so dearly unless she became terrified of it?’
‘Yeah, good point,’ Lauren said. ‘From what I saw of her she was happy with her life, taking Smarty for walks and doing work at the hotel. There’s another incident to consider. Somebody stole Smarty, and I wonder if it was part of a scheme to upset her?’
‘Another good point and one worth keeping in mind,’ Jay said. ‘I need to find her soon as possible. If someone is targeting her, he or she has a reason for doing so. I believe the answer to the question “why” is in those diaries.’
‘You had better take this,’ Stuart said, handing him the remaining intact diary. ‘Whatever the answer is, she made damn sure nobody would discover it.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘What are you staring at me for? You’re always following me around.’
Erica walked into the bathroom, stood behind Kim and stroked her shoulders. ‘You have spent long enough seeing to your hair. You look fine. Trust me.’
‘The blotches on my face won’t go away. They’re horrible.’
Erica rubbed her back to comfort her. Kim scrunched up her shoulders and spun around. ‘Did you hear what I said?’
‘Yes, Kim. Don’t be angry with me. Those blotches will eventually fade away.’
‘I’m not going anywhere looking like this. Everyone will stare at me.’
‘I keep telling you but you don’t listen. It’s my responsibility to make sure you are safe. You must venture outside at some point. You’re not ashamed to be seen with me, I hope?’
‘You’re not bothered if I’m caught, are you? The vicar’s more concerned for me than you are.’
‘You shouldn’t say such things. How hurtful you can be. I have some foundation cream in my bag. Come to the bedroom.’
‘How does foundation cream work?’
‘You can use it to cover your blotches. What else?’
&
nbsp; ‘Okay … My health capsules have kept my skin nice up till now.’
‘I’m sure they have. What you have is a nervous rash, or it could be something you’ve eaten.’
Kim sat at the dresser table. Erica used her delicate touch to apply the covering. She hugged her, told her how beautiful she was. They kissed each other. Erica prised open her mouth with an eager tongue. Hot passion raged inside her. Kim grabbed her arms, broke the embrace. ‘Where’s the vicar?’
Erica smiled wickedly. ‘He’s at a school meeting. He won’t be back until late this afternoon.’
‘He wants to be rid of me sooner or later. He can’t see the love between us. He doesn’t understand. I only want to be loved.’
Erica’s lips fell at the corners. ‘He wouldn’t send you away unless he had to. Oh, no, it’s not in his nature to be cruel. I’m afraid it’s me who must go. He has said so and he’s deadly serious.’
‘Can we run away to somewhere safe, somewhere miles and miles away?’
‘You can’t escape your past, little one … Settle down. You are coming with me to the market. I’m dying to show you off. The day is warm and sunny. You’re bound to enjoy yourself and I’m going to buy some of your favourite sweets.’
She held Kim’s hand and happily took her to the market. At the entrance, Kim looked at her for some reassurance and was gripped by the chill of betrayal.
A wrinkled, grey-haired gipsy, holding a straw basket of flowers, came up to them. ‘A lonely flower for the little one?’ She offered a single, red flower that quivered in her trembling hand.
Erica grimaced and pulled Kim away. ‘Don’t listen to her. You mustn’t take any notice of the old hag.’
‘Don’t tell me what to do,’ Kim hissed.
Kim stood by the gipsy and felt a terrible inrush of sadness. The gipsy’s eyes brimmed with tears. She waved the flower at her and dropped it into the basket. Kim watched it shrivel and disappear, leaving behind a wisp of smoke.
‘I am Nadya,’ the gipsy said, pulling a mirror from the pocket of her long dress. ‘Don’t turn around … They are following you. Look in the mirror and you will see them. Don’t be afraid. They can’t hurt you. They won’t take you away or kill you.’
She did as the gipsy said. Hazy shapes slowly sharpened into perfect clarity. They were standing erect and motionless, their faces oozing hatred. Her heart sank. The conspiracy she feared for so long revealed itself by their presence. Even in the bright sunlight, Gill, Jay, Lauren and Stuart were drab, lifeless grey figures. Nadya lowered the mirror. ‘You see their faces in a mirror … Someone has betrayed you. They are aware of your wrongdoing … So, I say leave the old town without delay. Go and find your peace. Search for your true self.’
‘Come along,’ Erica said, grabbing her arm. ‘Folk like her are a blight on society.’
They were swallowed up by the throng of shoppers and visitors aimlessly trundling around, their voices low and muffled. Kim sensed them gaping at her as if she was being paraded for an offence she had committed.
Erica tugged her sleeve and pointed to a stall. ‘Sergeant Bacon’s Canopy.’ She winked knowingly. ‘I’ll buy a succulent joint for our tea.’
Kim’s legs were heavy and stiff. She struggled to make it to the stall. The red-faced, jovial man behind the counter grinned and ran his chubby finger along the edibles on offer at, ‘The Best Prices for Miles.’ Kim read the labels for each item: old cock sausages, bell-end cucumber, raspberry-nipple barms, cumzoola banana sandwich and hairy pie. The jovial vendor smiled at Kim. ‘The best sex food money can buy,’ he said. ‘Gather round everyone. Women everywhere, come and look round at your leisure. Put the zest back in your sex life … All you men, put some wood back in your tired, neglected pork swords.’
Kim turned to Erica and said, ‘I don’t think I’ve been here before.’
‘Probably not. This is Old Crotchey’s Market. It’s been here for over a hundred years and they sell everything in the food line. You can’t go wrong, Kim … Two of your pork-sword butties, please.’
Something prodded Kim in the lower back. She turned and yelled, ‘What the hell are you playing at?’
An old man wearing a gap-toothed smile stuffed a diary into his trouser pocket. ‘Sorry, miss. I was attendin’ to mi diary. I didn’t mean to offend you. My name is, Willard. I’m the town’s gravedigger. If you ever need any diggin’ …’
Laughter erupted and gave way to muffled chatter.
Erica dragged her to an open space where they had a better view of the stalls. ‘Look at the varied selection, Kim. I could spend all day here.’ She pointed at Lord Tabori’s Shirts, then Stomper’s Stocks and Runaway Blades. They ambled along. Erica breathed excitedly. ‘If you ever fancy a rousing shower, here is the place to come.’ She gestured with a nod towards Bates Shower Curtains.
Kim’s pulse raced. Nauseous panic and suspicion tore at her nerves. She spat at Erica. ‘You cow,’ she said, teeth clamped. ‘You brought me here on purpose to frighten me. There are no bonbons here, only nasty pathetic men and women selling cheap crap nobody wants. They might as well be selling sand for all it’s worth.’
‘Behave yourself, Kim. We don’t want those blotches on your face to spread … Where’s that smell coming from? Over there, I think, from Blaire’s Butchers. What a delightful aroma. H’m, beautiful. It has a penetrating magic to make one’s senses stagger with some remembered joy.’
‘There’s nothing joyful here. I’m not interested in the butchers. I wouldn’t eat any of their smelly, rotting meat. I’m going back to the vicarage.’
‘You are coming with me,’ Erica snapped. She dragged her towards Blaire’s stall. Streams of blood snaked over the vendor’s marble-top table and trickled down its sturdy legs. Erica stood behind her, gripped her waist and forcefully guided her along the counter. Kim squirmed at the assortment of discoloured animal flesh, displayed haphazardly.
‘I’ve seen enough,’ Kim shouted, and freed herself from Erica’s grasp.
‘Mr Blaire has a treat for you. You can’t let him down or the poor man will be devastated. Follow me. Don’t be tempted to run off or I’ll take you back to your own home. You wouldn’t want to go back there, would you? You never know who might be waiting for you.’
Kim heaved one leg in front of the other. Erica took her to a grey, windowless building fifty yards outside the market area. They stood by the entrance. Erica pushed the door open. ‘Why am I here?’ Kim said. ‘Are you punishing me? Do you want me to die?’
‘Go inside,’ Erica commanded, ‘or I will be cross with you.’
She stepped inside, peered into the darkness. The door banged shut behind her. She took a few steps and paused. The dank air clung to her skin. A set of weak lights, positioned on the four stone walls, barely lit up the chamber. Her expression clouded with shock. In the gloom, she saw herself hanging by the neck, mouth gaping, sightless eyes, sodden hair. She turned around and staggered to a handleless door. ‘Erica, let me out,’ she screamed. ‘Please, will you open the door?’ It groaned and opened slightly. Kim pushed hard against the dense timber and ran outside.
The ground beneath her feet was no longer stone but lush grass, oozing mud. She ran into an angry crowd. They swore, spat and yanked her hair. She fought desperately to escape their rage. She sank to her knees, her body wrecked from sheer exhaustion. Her heart raced. She yearned for them to kill her, to end it all. She dragged air into her depleted lungs, all the while expecting to be strangled or kicked to death. Minutes dragged by, and a sudden silence was broken by laughter, merriment and the strains of a violin.
Two strong hands lifted her onto her feet.
‘What are you doing here, Jay? They’re all going to kill me, and kill you if you’re not careful. They won’t accept the truth. They’re all mistaken I tell you. I could never hurt –’
‘Don’t speak the name, Kim. Nettie Seddon is in the corner, right behind me.’
‘Seddon … Seddon … You know her, and you’ve
worked it all out. Clever man.’
‘Have a look at the old busker and her playful dog, Ashlyn. You’re a wanted woman, a criminal. It’s no use trying to flee. Come along with me. Enjoy the day.’
She went willingly to where Nettie was busking. She wore a stove-pipe hat, long brown coat with big silver buttons. Her grey, skin-tight jeans were held together by rows of string stitches. A dog with shaggy black hair sat next to her. An iron pot, for donations, hung from its slobbery mouth. Nettie’s thin lips were turned down. Her heavily wrinkled face spoke of years of hardship. Both eyes were sunken, their lids sewn up with thin twine. She ran the violin bow across the strings, playing the same note over and over.
A cool breeze swept over Kim’s face, bringing with it a musty odour. The sight of the repulsive, hideous dog pushed her back. Jay tightened his grip, forced her to listen to Nettie sliding her bow across the same string. The repetitive shriek of the violin increased in volume and speed. Nettie’s lips turned up at the corners. She smiled at Kim, an evil, toothless smile. The bow became a blur. The high-pitched tone gnawed at her nerves. She wriggled and twisted her body, trying to free herself from Jay’s fierce grasp. Her legs trembled, face burned. Sweat slithered down her spine.
‘Stop that noise,’ she shouted.
Jay let go of her and signalled Nettie to stop playing. A pitiless hush fell over the entire market and the dank smell in Kim’s nostrils prompted the return of painful memories.
Jay nudged her. ‘You can smell the cottage. Crumbling walls. Moss and lichen. Rotting wood. Do you recall the busted staircase? One can sense her terror, the hurt and degradation.’
‘You’re right. I only wish I’d been there earlier. All these people are against me. I was a part of it and it wasn’t my fault.’
‘Who can blame them for hating you so much? Don’t worry. I am on your side, Kim. We can be happy you and me, if we try.’
‘If we try … Yes, I believe you … You look very much like him but I’m used to it. Your moral duty is to take me away to somewhere nice. Will you run away with me?’
All Your Fears Page 17