Blood List

by Ali Carter

  As she turned out of the hotel car park, Jenny Flood felt her entire world turn inside out all over again. How she’d coped this far was a complete mystery to her – no normal person experienced the things she’d gone through in the last few weeks. If Jason was… beyond help… her eyes began to fill – what had she left in her life? Her parents were dead, she had few friends, her love life was a mess and her latest job position massively beneath her journalistic capabilities. Tears streamed down her face, she felt utterly desperate as she wiped them away and drove through town past the lake and up Hill Road towards Andrew’s.

  Jenny turned briefly to look out over the water as she passed… in her heart of hearts she knew what news was waiting for her, she could feel the very weight of it cave in – cave in and crush her very soul.

  Andrew opened the door as soon as Jenny rang the bell. He’d kept a lookout for her from the lounge window since they’d spoken and dreaded having to tell her what he knew he couldn’t over the phone. Harry Longbridge had already rung him to confirm it was definitely a body they’d pulled out of the lake, believed to be that of Jason Flood, but would need a formal identification and had arranged to come over and take his statement. It was going to make for a difficult session all round. The minute he drew back the door and Jenny saw his face she knew she’d never see her brother’s again… Andrew caught her as she fell.

  He swung her limp body up into his arms, carried her through to the lounge, and laid her on the sofa whilst he went to make some sweet milky tea.

  Missy cat seemed to sense there was something very, very wrong. Instead of doing a dance round the new visitor as usual, she sat quietly, head low on her paws, and watched through the doorway from the safety of Andrew’s bed.

  By the time he’d returned, Jenny had started to stir and was then suddenly awake. She sat up and remembered in a rush the assumption she’d made on her arrival and turned to look in blind hope at Andrew, but found no reassurance in his expression, no change to what she’d already guessed. Jenny began to sob uncontrollably now as he placed the mugs on the table and sat down beside her.

  “I’m so sorry Jen, this whole business – it’s – hell. I just don’t know what to say or do to help you.” He put his arms around her and gently kissed the side of her forehead, he truly didn’t know how to comfort her and prayed Harry wouldn’t be long with an accompanying WPC.

  “How?” croaked Jenny, weak between racked sobs as her shoulders shook and head lay heavy against his chest. This was the bit Andrew had been dreading, it would be harder to explain Jason’s demise to his sister than it had been swimming out of that car and back to shore… well… almost anyway…

  “Jen –” At that moment the doorbell went for the second time. Andrew eased himself off the sofa and handed her a mug.

  “Drink this – it’ll do you good.” He glanced out of the window and went to the door to let Harry Longbridge and Suzanne Moorcroft in as he quietly thanked the universe for their well-timed arrival. All three returned to the living room before Andrew went back out to the kitchen to make more tea. Strange how even the hardiest of coffee drinkers turned to tea in a crisis he thought randomly, then felt really bad for juggling mental trivia…

  Harry sat himself down opposite Jenny, and with Suzanne Moorcroft now next to her on the sofa, he took in her obvious distress, and began to carefully ask her how much she knew about what had happened to her brother. She answered that Andrew hadn’t actually told her anything yet, but had implied there’d been an accident at the lake and that he was dead. They had arrived just as he was about to explain more.

  “Miss Flood…” began Harry gently, “I’m dreadfully sorry to have to tell you – but we have strong evidence to believe your brother was murdered, probably in the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours.” At this revelation, Jenny would’ve passed out again if it hadn’t been for the fact she felt like she was about to throw up – amazingly she didn’t.

  “Charlotte!” she said nodding her head slowly, “Charlotte Peterson!”

  “Are you referring to Doctor Charlotte Peterson Miss Flood?” asked Harry. He looked over at his WPC.

  “I need to make a statement – and you better have a bloody big notebook and several pens.” Jenny replied stonily.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  By the time Jenny had finished her story of how she’d witnessed Susie Sarrandaire’s murder and why she hadn’t reported it, for which she was now obviously hugely remorseful, including for her own judicial situation, several pages of rough notes and pens were indeed filled out and used. Listening to her falteringly describe the details of her old schoolfriend’s murder at the hands of their GP, especially the gruesome method used, also brought back painful memories for Andrew of how he found Rachel. Jenny’s account also bore out PC Joe Walker’s inspirational flash at Josie Kinkade’s autopsy, that maybe some kind of large ice stake had been used after the chloroform had done its job. Her testimony confirmed that this was in fact the case – with the aid of a mallet…

  Harry made a couple of phone calls to get operational events moving and then drove them both to the hospital to identify the body whilst Suzanne took the area car back to the station. Finally he had his man, or in this case woman, but even with almost thirty years in the job he’d never experienced anything like it. He prayed he never would again.

  Outside the morgue viewing room Jenny really did feel the nausea rise. She’d barely eaten since the previous night so was also feeling physically weak now and Andrew had to pretty much hold her up. When the morgue attendant asked if she was ready she wanted to yell; “Noooo! Of course I’m not bloody ready – how the hell could I ever be ready? He’s my brother! He’s only 22 for Chrissake!” Instead Jenny just nodded quickly and dropped her gaze to the floor. The sheet was removed to the shoulders.

  “Jenny?” Andrew squeezed her elbow very gently, turned round and nodded affirmatively to Harry. She took as long as she dared to look up from the floor, eyes still closed. When she finally opened them – the room blacked out.

  Back at the station there were official statements to be taken from them both. Andrew had managed to get her to eat half a cheese sandwich and some coffee, neither terribly appetising as they were both from the station canteen and it was halfway through the afternoon, but better than nothing. Then Harry brought out a number of clear bags that contained Jason’s belongings, all individually marked up as exhibits for evidence purposes – Jenny could smell the lake even through the plastic.

  “Do you recognise these items as having belonged to your brother Miss Flood?” She just looked them over briefly at first and nodded flatly.

  “Could you look a little closer, just to make sure? If you possibly can… just so you can state you don’t think anything’s missing from the last time you saw him, to the best of your knowledge of course.” They were all set out on the table in a line – all his precious things: his black lightening shirt, his purple jeans, his silver double dragon necklaces, his gothic bracelets…

  “Yes – they’re all there as far as I can s… no – wait –” She went back along the line of bracelet bags – one was missing – the one she’d given him for his eighteenth. His JF silver fastening black Gothic bracelet that shared their initials – it wasn’t there.

  “It’s missing – his special initial bracelet I gave him, he always wore it with the others, always, but it’s not there! What does that mean?”

  “Well, given that you feel all the rest are – it looks like either the culprit took it for a memento, or found or obtained it beforehand somehow, and simply forgot or had no time to put it back on his wrist before placing his… him… in the bags…” He tailed off. Harry really felt for this young girl, to hear these descriptions of her brother must be absolutely agonising. However, he had to continue; “Although it seems likely, at this moment in time, we still don’t know for certain that Dr. Peterson is also responsible for his death.�
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  “Oh it’s her alright,” said Jenny as she looked Longbridge straight in the eye; “I’d stake my own life on it.”

  Miles woke up with a jump from a rare afternoon nap on a day off. Where on earth was all that banging coming from? And who the hell was shouting like the world had come to an end? The front door sounded as if it was about to be caved in and with the local football supporters behind it. He jumped off the couch and started up the hall. Through the side window he could see half the town’s police cars had gouged skid marks all over his spacious gravel drive.

  “Okay! Hold on for God’s sake!” Once unlocked, an influx of Cumbria Constabulary – two of which now had him pinned him up against the wall – had Miles doing a three-point head turn and air gasping like a heron stuck Carp. The rest of their colleagues poured ant-like all over the ground floor.

  “Where’s your wife Doctor Peterson – where is Doctor Charlotte Peterson?” demanded one officer. The stairs started to reverberate with size 12s then, as they thundered up and down and charged all around the bedrooms. He felt a twinge of guilt, but at that moment all Miles could think was thank fuck it wasn’t him they wanted. The whole mass murder thing that had started off with Rachel had taken its toll. He’d spent the last month or so keeping a very low profile – well as low as any bloke with his particular needs could anyway… What the hell did they want with Charlotte though?

  “She – she’s at work why? I don’t underst..” He was ‘taken off the wall’, marched into the lounge and ‘put’ firmly onto the couch.

  “Stay there!” A younger officer was assigned guard duty to make sure he did, and Miles now felt distinctly uneasy. This looked serious. He didn’t know what Charlotte had done, but this was more than a tad overkill for a driving offence.

  “Look – all… this;” he gestured the craziness of what was happening in his house with open arms to the young officer as he stood up. “I really need to use the bathroom.” Joe Walker wasn’t about to get done for this one – he inclined his head sharply towards the lounge door and followed him upstairs to the toilet. He checked the window size and drop to the ground then exited and waited on the landing.

  Once inside, Miles did what he had to do for noise authenticity with one hand, then fished his phone out of his back pocket and turned it to silent before texting Charlotte with the other. He just hoped she would pick it up.

  I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE

  BUT THE POLICE ARE ON THEIR WAY

  TO ARREST YOU – I SUGGEST YOU

  GET OUT – NOW!

  He flushed the toilet, washed his hands and came out of the bathroom.

  Charlotte felt the vibration of the text through her trouser pocket. Her elderly patient couldn’t understand why after she’d only just sat down her doctor had now left the room. Charlotte had mumbled something and disappeared into the kitchen behind her office through a door not visible from the main room area. She had, understandably, been nervy and jumpy for weeks, and checked every notification on her phone pretty smartly.

  She took the mobile out of her pocket and read Miles’ message. Her stomach screwed down tight. She wasn’t really surprised though, her anger and emotions had lost her the only power she’d held when she sent the Flood boy to his maker. Obviously that sister of his had spilled the news of her latest ‘despatch’… and now it seemed Charlotte had to think very fast.

  She opened the surgical cabinet, took a six-inch retractable scalpel, slipped it into her trouser pocket and went back into the consulting room. She apologised to her patient, blamed a feigned stomach bug and explained quickly that another doctor would see her shortly if she waited in reception. The confused woman then got shuffled out of the door and sent back down the hall as Charlotte checked her bag for the keys she’d need later. She then phoned through to Gina to come to her office…

  Everyone had been so lovely about her Gran and told Gina she should go home, even Miles had left off throwing his ‘appreciative looks’ in her direction that morning and kindly suggested she took some time off work. Everyone that was except for Charlotte – who’d barely spoken to her in the last week at all anyway, and Gina still couldn’t figure out why. Now she’d asked her to go in to see her. To say she was worried was an understatement.

  It was an anxious walk up the corridor – why had she been summoned, and even more strangely, why had Charlotte asked that she brought her car keys? Maybe she needed an errand run, she thought, although it had never happened before. A knock on the consulting room door brought no response and she walked in to find it empty.

  “I’m in the kitchen Gina,” called out Charlotte, “come on through.” Gina walked round to the inset door into what appeared to be an empty kitchen too. Her suspicious instinct hit only a flash of a second before she felt the blade’s tip in her lower back. Then Charlotte’s left arm was quickly and firmly around her waist guiding her towards the exit door to the car park.

  “Move – and do it naturally, we’re going for a little drive – in your car.” Charlotte opened the back door and moved Gina through it having first checked the rear car park was reasonably quiet. The terrified girl moved unsteadily towards her red Fiesta as the blood drained from her face, her stomach leapt into her mouth and her legs surprisingly still moved forwards despite her entire body now flooded with adrenalin.

  “Wh – why are you doing this?” she stammered, shocked beyond any normal understanding of what could be happening to her, what was happening to her.

  “Shut it and keep walking!” spat Charlotte, quickly followed by a bright smile and nod to acknowledge a patient on their way to the front entrance.

  “Poorly receptionist – just taking her home, bless her,” she called out as she kept moving Gina forward. The gentleman waved and went on into the surgery. They reached Gina’s car where the young girl fumbled in fear and almost dropped her keys before she managed to press the remote and unlock the door.

  “Get in and stay absolutely still!” hissed Charlotte as she took the keys off her, walked round to the other side, opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. She handed the keys back to Gina.

  “Now drive and go exactly where I tell you to, don’t even think about any clever tactics that boyfriend of yours may have taught you.” Somehow, she wasn’t sure how, Gina managed to start the car, put it into gear, pull away from the parking space and out into the road…

  Molly was in town for some retail therapy before her second shift and meeting the others in the bar. She’d ordered some gorgeous jeans online and didn’t want to wait for them to be delivered so had popped down to the company’s high street store to pick them up. When she saw her friend’s red Fiesta being driven in completely the opposite direction to the Carpenters, away from the town altogether and on the road for the boating arena, she was really puzzled. Gina had rung that morning to say she and Andrew would be in for a late lunch – so why was she now headed out towards the arena? What really surprised Molly was that it looked like Charlotte Peterson was in the car too! She stood open-mouthed as she watched the tail lights of the Fiesta disappear and then immediately rung Andrew.

  Her second shock of the day had her in rapid search of a bench to collapse on. Andrew hadn’t been in touch with anyone apart from Jenny and the police since he’d left for work. Molly now tried to come to terms with everything he was saying, plus the fact her best friend, his partner, was in the clutches of a dangerous killer. She started to stammer… a lot.

  “B – b – but sh – sh – she’s… got her!” shrieked Molly hysterically, not caring who heard or saw her as she sat looking one way then the next, standing up then sitting down, then standing up again as she started to walk in the direction of the arena.

  Andrew felt sick. He was still at the station and about to ring Gina himself. He knew the police were on their way and was under the impression Charlotte had no idea about that, so thought Gina was relatively safe
. Somehow that crazy bitch Doctor had been tipped off and now his girlfriend was in terrible danger. He told Molly to go straight back to the pub and stay there. He’d be in touch later – and would definitely be bringing their girl home.

  When Harry heard his operation had been completely cocked up he was absolutely livid. If this is down to the Walker boy I’ll have his balls pruned, dried and glazed for the marbles team… it was time he got back out on the ground…

  As Gina turned into the car park of the boating arena, Charlotte began to quickly scan available places nearest to the moorings. Spotting one she directed her into a space fairly close to where Miles’ powerboat bobbed gently on the water. His larger and more powerful vessel, ‘Babe Of The Bay’, was anchored way outside of the harbour since he’d spent some ‘R&R’ time aboard the previous weekend. Charlotte loved the boat but had always hated its name and thought it a stupid risk to leave her out and unattended – but that was men for you. Now though she needed to get to the ‘Babe’ and use it to take her to the other side of the lake.

  She ordered Gina out of the car – just the threat of knowing she had a blade seemed enough to keep her compliant. The girl walked ahead of her down to the waterside where Charlotte gave instructions on how to deal with the boat’s dock lines, then manoeuvred her into it. Somehow she’d have to get this kid to drive a powerboat out to the ‘Babe’ without killing them both – she needed this one to barter with. Unbeknown to Charlotte though, Gina had actually spent quite a lot of time on the water in the past, even had a few lessons thanks to a previous boyfriend’s love of all things nautical. She hadn’t forgotten. Despite her obvious fear, with guidance, she managed to start the boat, get it out of its bay and headed towards the larger boat anchored in the distance, all without too much trouble. Her captor was guardedly impressed.