by Ali Carter
“Got your favourite little corner then?” Andrew teased Gina as he gave her a peck on the cheek and lovingly stroked her back before he squeezed in next to her.
“Molly managed to grab it actually, I was a bit slow!” Gina replied as she rested her hand lightly on his knee. These two were made for each other thought Molly who’d begun to feel like an extra on a film set. She was truly happy for them but it had been a while since her last real boyfriend, and although surrounded by people every day, she’d started to get lonely. Pity that guy she met at the country show wasn’t around but she hadn’t seen or heard from Jason since that day, even though he’d taken her number. Molly had felt a bit peeved about that considering they’d got on rather well. She’d felt a spark. Obviously he hadn’t.
“Molly are you with us? Hello –o-o-oh, earth to Molly.”
“Very funny Gale,” she retorted, “just thinking about… something.”
“Some one more like,” Gina cut in. “Still not heard anything then?”
“No. I guess he was just passing through – doubt if I’ll get to see him again so let’s just forget about it.”
“Who’s this then, a lapsed boyfriend?” Andrew added.
“No, just that Jason I met at the show – remember? I didn’t get to meet up with you and Gee by the forestry thing. I mentioned it the other day.” Andrew nodded his recollection of the conversation. Molly continued. “Well I just… kinda liked him. He was different, hasn’t rung though.”
“You say he was just passing through Molls, so nobody had seen him before that day?”
“Nope, not that I know of…” Andrew narrowed his eyes in thought. “Now don’t you run away with any ideas, you said that vet lady Josie insisted it was a tall blonde guy that gave his number to Rachel that night. Jason is medium height and dark. Unless he dyed his hair between Tuesday and Friday and bought stilts he’s not our man. The only guy I clearly remember that fitted Josie’s description was Dr. Peterson, but I never saw him talk to anyone other than his wife or the bar staff. They came in for a meal and were sitting restaurant end. If it was him Rachel got the mobile number from I didn’t see it. To be honest I didn’t really know her that well Andy, I can’t even remember seeing her that night. I’ve certainly never met Josie, so the two of them together wouldn’t have registered with me anyway.”
“Well it’s not impossible to buy hair tint,” Andrew pointed out, “you can pick up a bottle from practically any chemist but – ”
“What – and stilts?!” said Molly exasperated.
“Andy it’s not Molly’s Jason,” Gina interrupted, “she’s gone on about him for days, he’s a nice guy!”
“Well he seemed really nice, bit secretive about his past admittedly,” said Molly, “I didn’t really learn much about any personal stuff but would never put him down as a killer – no way!”
“Did he tell you where he was staying or why he’d come to Kirkdale?” Andrew pressed.
“He said he was visiting his sister for a few days but didn’t really say much about her, just that they were very close and she’d moved here recently. We mainly talked about what we were into. You know bands, books, films, food, usual stuff you chat about when you first meet someone.”
“You usually talk about family, work and where you come from too,” Andrew added pointedly, “unless there’s a good reason not to.”
“Well if there is a reason,” replied Molly, “it’s not the one we’re here to discuss. We need to make a plan, and damned fast, before trails and clues start to dry up and go missing.” Molly threw a large mouthful of red down her throat and re-filled her glass – suddenly she was the one setting the pace for the evening and not just with the wine.
“These dreams are getting to her a bit, aren’t they Moll?” Gina put a supportive arm around her friend’s shoulders.
“You haven’t had another since Wednesday have you?” Andrew asked worriedly. Surely the murderer wouldn’t strike again so soon? That would be three in just over a week if her visions were a definite connection.
“No, not yet but it’s stressful… really stressful I hate them. I just want this to be over I feel so… responsible somehow. When I first noticed I had a gift, thing, whatever it is, I didn’t expect it to develop into this… this series of predictive nightmares.” Andrew and Gina swapped concerned glances. Both emptied their glasses together and Andrew opened the third bottle just delivered by the waiter. He began to fill all three glasses to the rim, much more of this and they wouldn’t be able to work out anything at all he thought. With the wine back on the table he looked up at the girls and made the first real suggestion as to how they might attempt to discover Rachel’s killer, and of course of the poor woman that had been found that morning.
“I’ve an idea,” he said, eyes squinted slightly in apprehension of their response.
“Go on,” they both whispered, as if the murderer was actually eavesdropping, their voices barely audible above the hum of the bar. Gina was especially worried at what he would come up with – it was bound to involve something dangerous and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to or even could cope with it. She certainly didn’t want him in any danger.
“It may sound ridiculous, off the wall even, but we’ve got to start somewhere.”
“Not Jason!” Molly heard herself immediately pre-jump to the defence of someone she barely knew. She was mystified why when he hadn’t even bothered to contact her, but nevertheless felt he had nothing to do with this.
“No, not him, I don’t think he’s a suspect. With your intuition Molls I think you would have sensed something. No. I think we start with our Dr. Peterson. You’ve often mentioned he’s a bit of a womaniser Gina and we know he was in the pub on the same night, maybe, just maybe it was him who dropped the number in Rachel’s lap. Maybe he arranged to see her and… I dunno, just lost his temper for some reason.”
“What?! And caused that that awful… wound… that ghastly hole in her chest, in both women’s chests?” Gina was aghast. She knew Miles was a bit slimy, for want of a better word, but she couldn’t believe he would actually kill anybody. “He’s a doctor for chrissake! He heals people he doesn’t hurt people.” Andrew turned to her with eyes widened pointedly given she was no longer anywhere remotely on the whispering scale.
“Keep your voice down,” he hissed, furtively looking around at the other tables as if they were guilty of plotting a bank raid. No one was interested in them, they were all too happy with their own friends and conversations to notice Gina’s unexpected outburst. Andrew picked up her hand and went on more softly. “It’s just a place to start Gee, we have to start somewhere, and Peterson was in the Carpenters on the same night as Rach. His ID fits and I told you on the day I found her that she’d seemed happier recently, as if she’d met someone new. Well maybe she had.”
“But… Miles?” whispered Gina horrified as she checked groups on either side of them now and then leant forward.
“Look, this is what I suggest,” said Andrew firmly. “Molly, the next time you have a vision or a dream, ring me immediately whatever the time is, day or night. So far the murders have occurred at least two days after your predictions. I’ll follow Peterson home from work on the first day and hang around all night if necessary, just to make sure. Then repeat it again on the second day if nothing has happened. Gina – you text me half an hour before he’s due to leave and I’ll make sure I’m near the surgery but out of sight. At least his car is easy to recognise. Has he still got the Morgan?”
“Yes, it’s his pride and joy,” said Gina, recalling how she’d once seen him run his hand lovingly along the car’s long silver-grey bonnet.
“Right – I’ll follow him home then and just wait somewhere secluded until he leaves the house again that night – if he does. Of course if he goes out later it could be perfectly legit, probably will be, but at least I’ll be there to tail him and
make sure it is – and if it isn’t…”
“I guess that’s reasonably safe,” admitted Gina. “You’ll have your mobile with you and you’ll only be following in the car won’t you? You won’t do anything Andy will you? I mean, I know it’s a helluva long shot, but if it is Miles he’s pretty damned fit. Promise me you’ll ring that DCI and not get involved.” If he was honest Andrew was a bit miffed his girlfriend thought Peterson was in better shape than he was, especially considering her boss was fourteen years older than him! He didn’t know if Miles did train at all, but he was in pretty regular attendance at the gym.
“Gina. Do you really expect me to stand aside and let an innocent woman get brutally murdered when I might have been able to do something?” Heavy red waves masked a fearful expression as they fell across her cheek. She reached forward for her glass. This time it was his girlfriend who knocked back the Bordeaux in one gulp. It was only as it slipped down that she suddenly remembered Miles Peterson’s unusual behaviour following Rachel’s death. Her eyes glazed in stark realisation. It was the first time he’d ever left the car park without the ritualistic proud glance over his shoulder at the Roadster, the first time he’d ever walked straight past reception without looking in her direction, and the first time he’d worn that sickly grey expression as he’d hurried down the corridor to his consulting room. Equally though, it had been the first time he’d arrived at work on the same day news of a horrible murder had been released, the murder of Andrew’s female work colleague and long-time friend.
The room swam as Gina slid sideways off her chair.
TEN
Jason Flood crouched behind the low flint wall that separated the surgery car park from the large open recreation ground, his back pressed uncomfortably flat against its sharp jutting points. The night was warm and muggy and his tee-shirt thin, it offered very little protection against the cutting edges. His heart thumped wildly now as he looked back across the rec through a sparse hedge that gave pretty inadequate cover. It was completely empty. A quick look over the top of the wall into the car park at the front of the surgery also revealed nothing – all was surprisingly quiet and desolate. If this had been a rec near his estate in Bradenthorpe, the kids’ swings, roundabouts and slides would be getting a right hammering from local gangs at that time on a Saturday night. On any night come to that.
He hadn’t seen much of his sister since he’d arrived that first weekend. To be fair Jenny had been working every weekday, but he’d still felt a little ignored considering he’d made the trip to see her. Most evenings had been spent in her tiny flat above the dress shop in front of the TV – she certainly hadn’t invited him to meet any of her new friends. He’d thought that really odd, she would surely have made some? It had hurt a bit if he was honest. Still, it was Bank Holiday soon, they’d be able to spend some time together, go out, meet some new people. He held on to that thought as he prepared himself for what was to come.
With a final check of the car park and surgery building for any signs of life, Jason heaved himself up, over the wall and down to the gravel the other side. The gritty surface scrunched noisily beneath his trainers as he landed – grass would’ve been better but beggars can’t be choosers. If only they would stop telling him to do these freaking things he could be in that pub now where that pretty Molly worked – he really liked her. They’d had a good time at the country fair thing the other day, she was one of the few girls he’d felt comfortable with – chatting had come easily, effortlessly. Her number was on his mobile but every time he went to call his finger stopped short of actually pushing connect. In some ways he was worried about meeting up again… in case they found out. Well they would wouldn’t they, they always found everything out. They always whispered to him, instructed him, told him to do things he shouldn’t, they were bound to know if he met up with Molly again. His hands were better now since he’d halved his medication, but the voices had come back, and Jason knew he had to obey or the shouting would start. Then the yelling, the hollering, and then the full-on obscenity screaming, all multiplied, all mixed up and deep inside his mind. He couldn’t stand that, not again. The headaches were agony and the confusion unbearable. It was ‘they’ that started the need for the meds in the first place, why he’d been put on the Clozapine in his mid teens after his parents’ death. The side effects had been awful though, the weight gain the tremors… so sometimes he’d reduce the dose to half for a while, just for a few weeks to find some relief – and a less embarrassing social life. Anyway – ‘they’ told him to.
He scouted round to the rear of the building and ensured he constantly scanned the area for people and security cameras. His brain was on overtime and stomach giving him gip – always did when he was nervous. He cursed as the ‘tool’ belt banged heavily against his jeaned thighs and wished he’d brought a rucksack instead. In truth he wished he wasn’t there at all. Suddenly his hands flew to his ears, he pressed hard with his palms, his eyes screwed tight and lips twisted to match as he shook his head and spat a resentful hushed reply through clenched teeth.
“Yes, yes I know, I am, I will, I can hear you, stop… shouting!”
The voices came thick and fast now, echoed repeatedly, demanded, ordered and egged him on. The closer he got to his target the louder and more hysterical they became. Jason shook his head fiercely now – they just frustrated him, hindered him, delayed him.
He found a single back door, took a small suction cup and glass cutting tool from his belt and set to work on an individual oblong pane. The neat circular hole was soon scored and Jason gently pulled the suction cup towards him which brought the pane with it. He slipped his hand through the gap and felt for the key. It was there. Within seconds he was standing nervously inside the small surgery kitchen expecting some kind of an alarm to go off. Would there be one? He remained absolutely still, held his breath as the voices reduced to a whisper now, waited nervously with him. Nothing. His controlled breathing sounded too loud as it moved slowly in and out of his lungs. Still nothing. A trickle of sweat slid irritatingly down his left shoulder, made him want to twist his arm up his back and scratch. He didn’t. There was very little space, he could barely see and didn’t want to start swiping mugs and coffee jars off the work surface. Inch by inch, Jason felt for a clear area, laid the glass disc on the end of the work top, removed the suction cup and replaced it into his tool belt along with the cutter. As he stood still again almost too afraid to move, he heard the hum of the town traffic in the distance and the electronic tick of the clock in the room he’d just broken into. Now though he had to listen closer – to receive his orders.
Without the street lighting, the corridor that led from the kitchen was even darker than the room Jason had just left. He didn’t want to leave the door open behind him because of the window directly opposite, so decided to forgo the small amount of light it would have shared. He began to work his way carefully down the hall. Almost immediately his shoulder offset a heavy object, and as it see-sawed dangerously against the wall, a wave of adrenalin coursed through his body. Both hands flew to the picture’s corners as he sensed its shape and somehow managed to set it right again in the pitch black.
Every now and then he acknowledged the voices as their excited and annoying chatter buzzed inside his head, but his hands were now surgeon steady as he felt for the first door handle. He depressed it slowly downwards. Once in and the door closed, Jason stroked the wall either side of the entrance until his fingers ran over the light switch and pushed it down. The brightness made him blink, it had not taken long to get used to the dark. He mentally kicked himself then as he remembered the mini torch he’d packed in his tool belt. A quick glance revealed it was just a regular office – desk, phone, laptop, flash black leather chair and a wall of medical books and stationery items. Not what the voices were interested in. He couldn’t resist a quick swing in the large soft swivel chair though, just for a moment, but almost immediately his hands shot to his head. He
jumped out of the seat as if it had burnt his rear and held his ears.
“Okay, okay… I’m going, I will… yes I’ll find it. Yes I’m doing it, right now. Don’t… yell!” He walked swiftly back to the door, snapped off the light and stepped out into the corridor again. His legs began to tremble now, not from his medication, but from the sheer terror of what he was doing. He couldn’t believe the extent to which the voices could control his actions, but he also knew he had very little choice.
It wasn’t long before he came across another door, used the torch this time and noticed a further one opposite. It had been left ajar and Jason could see right into the room. Just more office space similar to before though, he thought, not the one he was being instructed to find.
He made a brief search of each room as they appeared, until finally around a left-hand corner he found a glass window sat above a wide counter. Jason flashed the beam onto the handle of the adjoining door and tried to open it – locked. He pushed against the door with his shoulder, it stood firm. A quick rummage in the tool belt produced a simple piece of long bendy wire which he fed it into the key hole. Expertly he tickled the inside of the lock until a couple of minutes later he heard the familiar click. Jason winced at the sound, he could almost become a professional burglar at this rate – it had become far too easy. The door swung open and once the wall light was on, the room revealed its prize.