‘We might have a lead, Byrd. Come on,’ Jo called as she left Abbey’s house.
‘Where are we off to, Boss?’
‘The maternity ward at Chichester hospital. Abbey’s just told me Edith was with her throughout the birth.’
Byrd grinned. ‘Fingers crossed.’
‘And toes,’ said Jo.
Byrd drove to Chichester Hospital, as Jo gazed out of the window. Her earlier exuberance was draining away. This case was turning out to be a nightmare. It was no ordinary missing child case, that was for sure. Statistically speaking baby snatches were rare and were usually committed by women who had lost a child of their own and wanted a replacement, or who saw their own dead child in the snatched one. Either way, it was a mental health problem. But not in this case. This was a malevolent being, wanting the child for himself. To… to do what? Jo had no idea.
Byrd burst out, ‘This is bollocks. We have no real idea who has Damien, where he is, or if he’s even alive. It’s terrifying!’
Jo could only agree. ‘I know, Eddie,’ she said. She alternated between feeling completely numb and totally terrified. ‘I keep thinking how Damien must be feeling without his mother and the danger he is potentially in.’
Dark thoughts clouded her mind. If they didn’t find the abducted child within the first 24 hours, odds were they wouldn’t find him alive or ever find him, but she couldn’t voice those thoughts. Refused to accept them, as if by ignoring them, they wouldn’t be true.
Byrd pulled up in the hospital car park and turned the engine off. But he didn’t make a move to get out of the vehicle. Instead he turned to Jo, ‘Look if Edith and the Watcher aren’t, well what I mean is… is it possible that they aren’t…’
‘Aren’t human? Is that what you’re suggesting, Eddie?’
Byrd coloured and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath he said, ‘Well, yes, I suppose that is what I’m saying. What about you?’
Jo smiled, but it was a watery one. ‘I know Edith and the Watcher are not human. They can’t be. There were no pictures of Edith on Abbey’s phone, remember? I didn’t challenge Abbey on it, but I’m sure it wasn’t a case of camera failure.’
Byrd took her hand and squeezed it, but Jo thought it was more to reassure himself than her. Either way she was glad of his touch.
‘Come on, we can’t stay in here all day. Let’s try the hospital. See if we can find anyone who may have met Edith.’
She wasn’t at all sure they would, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. In the meantime, as she stole a glance at Byrd, his words were a turn up. Maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to acknowledge that there were things that defied rational explanation in this world. That they lived in a world where the fabric of the divide between the living and the dead sometimes had a tear in it. And who knew what monsters had slipped through.
As they walked, Jo shivered and pulled her coat collar up around her neck. She hated winter. The cold dark nights kept people off the streets. Leaving them empty. Creating a void that was filled with things that lived in the shadows. Evil beings like the Watcher and his acolytes who came out to play while the world was covered by the blanket of the night, muffling sight and sound.
She groped for Byrd’s hand and grabbed it. He moved closer and as their shoulders touched, she drew strength and comfort from his presence.
Chapter 43
Arriving at the ward, they talked to the sister in charge, Helen Cross, and explained that they needed to talk to the midwives that were on duty on the 31st October. Halloween. Cross called for the midwives who were on duty, one by one. But all their answers were negative. None of the midwives remembered Edith or Abbey.
Sister Cross suggested they check with records to find out who else was on shift that day. ‘Sorry but we can’t really remember last week never mind the last three months, all the mothers and babies tend to blur into one.’
‘This was a big baby, though,’ said Byrd.
‘Oh? Really? Well that might help jog memories.’
‘The baby was a boy, over 10 lbs with a shock of black hair.’
At last they got a reaction. ‘Oh I heard about him,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t here though, and I don’t know who was. Like I said you’ll have to speak to records.’
Sister Cross gave them directions to the administration offices and Byrd and Jo went to ask for the information they needed.
‘Sorry,’ said an officious receptionist. ‘We can’t just give out information like that.’
‘But we’ve told you, this is about a missing child,’ Jo said.
‘I’m very sorry I’m sure, but policy is clear. We can’t release any information on staff without a Warrant.’
‘But that might take a couple of days!’ Jo blurted. ‘We can’t wait a day, never mind several. We need this information now! What is wrong with you people? Don’t you care?’
‘Jo,’ murmured Byrd and took her arm, leading her away from the receptionist. ‘Calm down, that’s not helping, come on, deep breaths.’
Jo did as she was asked. After a moment she said, ‘Sorry, Eddie, but we need to find Damien and no one seems to care!’
‘That’s not true, the whole team care.’
‘Yes, sorry, I know they do. It’s just with everything else going on, I’m not sure how much longer I can cope or how much more I can take.’ For once Jo was brutally honest with Byrd. She was no longer speaking as his superior officer, but as his lover and friend.
He rubbed her arm. ‘I know, look go and wait in the car, let me handle this,’ and he handed her the keys.
She nodded and turned away. She was aware she hadn’t been necessarily talking about how much more she could take with the case, but really about her relationship with Byrd. She walked away before he could say anything else. She was still clinging to the hope that they could get through the blockage in their relationship. But the indecision had been going on too long. He seemed to still need her as he thawed every now and again, but then rapidly retreated. She sniffed back tears. She still had to continue to hope. If his decision was that he couldn’t carry on their relationship because of her gift, she didn’t want to hear it, ever, because then there really would be no hope and she needed that hope to keep her going.
But she was very emotional about this case, she knew that. What on earth was wrong with her? Did she secretly want a child of her own? Was she becoming broody? How would that work then? Because she couldn’t have children. That was the other elephant in the room. Even if Byrd finally, totally, accepted Jo for who and what she was, he didn’t know that she was barren. That she didn’t have functioning reproductive organs. Specifically ovaries. She’d been told that IVF could be a course of action with donor eggs, but its success couldn’t be guaranteed and was very expensive. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to go through all that. Anyway, that was a long way off. The more immediate problem was that Eddie didn’t know. Not that she even knew if he wanted children. The whole thing was a subject best left alone.
She reached the car and clambered in. Turning on the engine, she set the heating up to high. Once on her own, without spectators, she burst into tears and sobbed. Letting all the hurt, and more importantly, her fear for the future, drain out of her.
Byrd joined her 15 minutes later. By then she’d stopped bawling like a child, or a lovesick teenager, and was once more composed.
‘Well?’ she asked as he climbed in the car.
‘We’ve found the midwives who were working on the 31st October and their contact details are being emailed over as we speak.’
‘And CCTV?’
‘They’re sending over the files for the day Abbey arrived so we can go over them. Also if Abbey gives her consent, they will release her medical records about the birth.’
Jo relaxed. ‘I don’t know how you managed that, and to be honest I don’t care. Thank you.’
Byrd put the car in gear, and they headed back to the police station in silence. Each wrapped up in their
own thoughts. Jo desperately wanted to read Byrd’s mind, but couldn’t. Her gifts didn’t extend to mind reading, a thought which made her smile. But once more, nothing had been said about the state of their relationship.
Chapter 44
By the time Jo and Byrd returned to the station, Sasha had received the information from the hospital. They had sent over the staff rota for 31st October and the contact details for them all. Jo immediately put Jill and Ken on that task, to start trying to trace them and speak to them. The two questions were: do they remember Abbey and the baby, which was a boy and unusually large, and did they meet Edith?
But at the end of a very long and frustrating session on the phones, all they found out was that people remembered Abbey and her son, but no one remembered Edith. She wasn’t there at all are far as the midwives and auxiliary staff were concerned. Neither could she be found on CCTV from inside the hospital. Sasha found Abbey being dropped off at the entrance to the hospital in what looked like a Ford Fiesta. But she couldn’t identify the colour of it, as the footage was black and white. They couldn’t see the registration number either, as the number plate was covered in mud and dirt.
And so they had absolutely nothing that could lead them to Edith. Jo walked into her office and Eddie followed her.
‘So who the hell has the baby?’ Byrd asked. ‘Can it be this Edith who doesn’t show up on CCTV and whom no one can remember? Is she even real?’
‘She is to Abbey. She sews clothes for her and then Abbey sells them for goodness sake.’
‘But we have absolutely no idea where she is now,’ said Byrd.
Jo sat down in her chair with a thump. ‘Well wherever Edith is, I hope she’s looking after the baby. The thought of an evil being watching the child, well it doesn’t bear thinking about.’
Chapter 45
Abbey woke with a start. Where was she? What time was it? Fingers of sunlight were filtering through the curtains. Crikey it must be morning, she realised, and she’d been asleep on the sofa. She pushed the blanket off her and sat up, just as Cherry came into the room carrying two mugs.
‘Oh, hi. I’ve made us a hot drink. Tea without sugar, isn’t it?’ and she handed Abbey a mug, with ‘The World’s Greatest Mother’ splashed on it. Abbey’s hand started to shake and Cherry had to quickly grab the drink off her.
‘How have I slept so long?’ Abbey wailed ‘How could I have slept while Damien is missing? What sort of mother am I? This whole thing must be my fault!’
Cherry put down her own drink and moved to sit next to Abbey on the sofa.
‘Oh, Abbey, don't blame yourself. I know you must feel that there was something you could have done to have prevented Damien’s disappearance, but it’s just not true. You can literally drive yourself crazy asking, what if? But the fact is, if you didn’t arrange for his disappearance, you shouldn’t hold yourself responsible for not knowing or doing something that may seem obvious in hindsight. You couldn’t have known what would happen when Edith took Damien for a walk. It was something she often did, wasn’t it?’
Abbey nodded but wasn’t appeased. ‘I am to blame,’ she insisted.
‘No, Edith is to blame. Don't shoulder the blame of others, that way lies madness.’
‘But what must people think of me?’
‘Oh, Abbey, if some do blame you, it’s only because they are projecting their own fears for their children, onto you. Blaming you makes them feel somewhat safer in the world because they hold you -- and your supposed mistake -- responsible for your child's abduction, rather than the abductor. Thinking about the abductor makes the crime real, which in turn makes the abductor real and therefore they think that that person could come and snatch their own child. It’s an avoidance tactic, nothing more. You’re a wonderful mother, Abbey and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Now come on, get that hot drink inside you and then maybe try and eat a little toast.’
Chapter 46
Edith looked down at the child. She wasn’t happy. Being a de facto mother wasn’t one of her life goals, or even undead goals, but the Watcher had insisted and what he wanted, went. Children looked so contented when they slept, she thought. But Damien was sleeping less and less as he grew. Already acting like a toddler at just three month’s old and clad in age one clothing, he was set to become a giant among men. A goliath. Undefeatable and indestructible. If he inherited his father’s power, then… Edith turned away from visions of death and destruction.
She did feel a bit sorry for Abbey, mind. The poor girl had been through a lot and… but Edith didn’t finish that thought, she didn’t do compassion. She heard noises outside, scuffing of feet, suppressed laughter and rustling of clothes. Inching back the curtain, she peered out of the window. It was just a couple passing. Nothing to worry about. She turned back from the window and yelped in surprise.
‘Will you stop doing that!’ she exploded at the Watcher. ‘Keep appearing without any warning. You’ll be the death of me.’ Then she laughed, for she was already dead.
But the Watcher didn’t join in with her mirth. He never did. He was curmudgeonly; a bad-tempered devil if ever she saw one.
‘So what happens now?’ Edith asked.
‘You take care of Damien until he’s of an age when he can fend for himself.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, you. Why? Do you have plans?’
The Watcher began rippling, a prelude to anger if ever she saw one. The air thickened. It was becoming difficult to breathe. His hands snaked around her neck, his talons digging into her flesh. She was lifted into the air, her body limp as she was shaken like a rag doll. Trying to speak, her mouth opened and closed, until she managed to let out a strangled, ‘No!’
She was released and fell to the floor. ‘Good. Now we understand each other.’
Edith nodded, got to her feet, patted her hair back into place and adjusted her clothing. She was going to have to be careful. The Watcher wasn’t known for his benevolence. She knew he’d banish her on a whim and shivered at the thought of going back to Damnation. No, this was a much better gig. She’d stick with it as long as she could.
She had a lot of questions, but daren’t ask them. What was the Watcher going to do with Damien? What was he training him to be? The embodiment of the Watcher on earth? After all he was the Watcher’s son. It was safe to assume he would continue to do his father’s work. He would be needed to ensure the continuation of the bloodline.
But she couldn’t help wondering if certain humans would rise up to battle the threat the Watcher and Damien posed. When a smaller, weaker opponent would face a much bigger, stronger adversary. She knew all about the story of David and Goliath. But just because David won then, didn’t mean that his mother and her cohorts would win now.
But the niggling doubt remained.
Chapter 47
Osian had tossed and turned most of the night and he got up with the rising sun, unable to rest. Round and round in his head went the messages left behind at Halloween, including the one when Damien had been taken. At the time, given the charged situation they found themselves in, Osian hadn’t had much chance to consider the passages.
Making himself a strong coffee, he sat at his computer and pulled up the copy of the messages. The one he was particularly interested in said:
“I have begotten a strange son, different and unlike man, and resembling the sons of the God of heaven; and his nature is different and he is not like us, and his eyes are as the rays of the sun, and his face is glorious.”
At last the penny dropped. It was a description of Noah, who built the ark and survived the flood sent to wipe out the Nephilim (children of the fallen angels and human women) and cleanse humanity of its impurities. He thought about that for a moment, then rang Jo. Engaged. He tried Jill. The call just rang and rang. No answer. Grabbing his coat, Osian set off at a run to the police station.
Out of breath and dishevelled, he asked the surprised policeman behind the screen for Jo Walsh.
‘I don
’t think that will be possible, Sir. She’s part of a very sensitive investigation at the moment. I am sure you can appreciate how busy she is.’
‘She’s looking for the missing child. I know that because I helped yesterday. Please tell her I’m here. Curate Osian Price from the Cathedral.’
‘Very well, please take a seat.’
Osian couldn’t sit and prowled around the reception area until Jill came bursting out of the door. ‘Osian! What’s the matter?’
‘I think I know where Damien is.’
‘Really? Oh my, God! Oh, sorry, sorry, come on!’ and she pulled at his arm.
Jo made everybody calm down. Sasha made coffee, everyone was forced to sit and only then was Osian allowed to explain.
‘I’ve been thinking about the message left at Storm’s house on Halloween from the Watcher. Well, strictly speaking, the message is the description of Noah at his birth. I think the Watcher used it to show how special his own son is.’
‘Noah? Isn’t that something to do with the floods?’ asked Byrd.
‘Yes. In the bible Noah has to build an arc to survive the floods. So maybe they are on a boat. The Watcher wants to survive with his son. And he could be using the analogy that the safest place for his only son would be on a boat.’
‘But why? Isn’t that a bit of a stretch?’ Jo sounded sceptical.
Osian ploughed on, desperate for them to understand. ‘No, because on a boat they could sail away until the time is right to return, when Damien is grown. Don’t you see? Then Damien can be let loose on the world, to procreate with human women and keep the bloodline going. Just as Noah was the saviour of mankind, so Damien will be the saviour of the Watcher’s lineage. And if God tries to wipe him off the face of the earth, he could weather the storm on a boat. He could also hide very effectively on the rivers and canals.’
Watching the Dead Page 12