The Loch

by Heather Atkinson

  “Well, yeah,” said Stewart, trying not to sound sarcastic and failing. “Oh bloody hell,” he added when his phone started to ring. “If that’s a call saying I have to go back into work…”

  “I’ll see you later,” said Mike, patting him on the shoulder and rushing in the direction of the toilets. His claim about needing the bathroom hadn’t just been a ruse.

  “Yes Wheeler, what is it?” Stewart said impatiently into his phone. What his colleague had to say eradicated his exhaustion. “I’ll be right there.”

  Stewart strode up the path to the Colonel’s house, ducking under the crime scene tape the constable on guard duty raised to allow him to pass. After two women had been found within its walls they’d thought it prudent to search the rest of the house, which the scenes of crime team were busy with.

  The crowd that had gathered yesterday when Isla and Hannah had been rescued had returned with a vengeance, composed of journalists as well as curious onlookers and concerned citizens. Some had even brought picnics and were camped out on the beach to watch. The café and shop were making a fortune.

  Stewart was directed into the Colonel’s sparse but pristine living room. Even if he hadn’t known who lived here it was clear this house was owned by a soldier, everything set out with military precision, not a square inch of space wasted. The sound of voices and thuds drifted down from upstairs. The wall beside the fireplace had been excavated, lumps of plasterboard lying on the floor. Wheeler and four people in white paper suits were staring with disbelief into the hole.

  “Right, what have you found?” said Stewart.

  They all stood back to allow him access. More of the plastic sheeting behind which Isla and Hannah had been placed hung inside the cavity of the wall. Behind that sheeting was a body. It was hard to tell whether it was male or female by the features but judging by the long black hair Stewart guessed it was a woman. The skin had darkened and shrivelled, indicating she’d been there a while. The mouth was wide open, head tilted back, as though mid-scream, although a piece of cloth was wrapped around the mouth as a gag. A cord had been tied around her neck to hold her in place, just like had been done to Isla. Both bound hands were pressed against the sheeting, the tips of the nails embedded in the plastic that was punctured with small holes, as though she’d been attempting to claw her way out when she’d died.

  “Jesus Christ,” he breathed. He’d seen some sick things in his time but this really took the biscuit.

  “I think it’s safe to say she was put in there alive,” said Delaney, the crime scene manager.

  “Our theory is he drugs them to get them in there,” said Wheeler. “Then he walls them up and leaves them to die. When the drug wears off they wake up to find they’ve been walled up alive.”

  When Stewart’s mind started to imagine would that would have been like, he desperately shoved the thought away. “Surely someone heard their cries?” he said. “Even gagged they would have been able to make some noise.”

  “The way he places the sheeting acts as a seal, muffling any sound,” replied Delaney. “There are just enough air holes to ensure they don’t suffocate, which would have been a quicker end. It also seals in the smell as the body decomposes. The cord around their neck and the bonds on their hands and ankles ensure they can’t bang on the walls. They would have died of dehydration. It would have been slow, painful…”

  “Terrifying,” rasped Wheeler.

  “Hannah McNair didn’t have a cord around her neck,” said Stewart.

  “We think he panicked and shoved her in the wall because the net was closing in. He didn’t have time to put one in place.”

  “Probably. So who is this woman?”

  “No idea Sir,” said Wheeler. “But there’s more. Nearly every room in this house has hollow walls.”

  “You mean there could be more women in here who’ve been walled up alive?”

  “Yes Sir,” replied Wheeler, looking like he’d never get a good night’s sleep again.

  “Infrared examination indicates if there are more victims hidden in the walls none of them are alive,” said Delaney. “I brought in another team to start searching upstairs.”

  “That’s why he built the extension,” murmured Stewart. “The house was full. He had nowhere else to put the women.”

  The thuds from upstairs ceased and there was a tense silence that they all picked up on, everyone stopping what they were doing to listen.

  “We’ve got another one,” called a voice.

  Stewart, Wheeler and Delaney charged upstairs into the master bedroom. There wasn’t a bed, just a king-size mattress on the floor, the duvet so straight it looked like it had been steamrollered.

  The wall opposite the window had been ripped open to reveal more plastic sheeting. The body in there was practically skeletal, a cord wrapped around its bony neck, keeping it upright.

  “Oh my God,” cried Delaney. “That body must have been in there for at the very least eight years. He’s been getting away with this for a long time.”

  “This is unbelievably sick,” said Wheeler. “I don’t think we’ve reached the end of this case, not by far.”

  Stewart patted his shoulder. “Here’s what I want you to do. Go home, get some sleep and spend a bit of time with Michelle and the kids. Come back in at four o’clock this afternoon. I’m going to do the same, we’re both dead on our feet. Then we’re going to go through every missing person’s report for the last ten years. We can extend our inquiries back even further if needs be. God knows what other secrets this hellhole is going to disgorge.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Isla anxiously awaited her doctor’s verdict as she checked her over.

  “Alright Isla,” smiled the pretty, plump woman. “You can go home.”

  “Thank you,” she breathed.

  “But your body’s been through a lot. I want you to take it easy and if you feel unwell you know where we are. As for you,” she said, turning to Mike. “You don’t look so good.”

  “I’m fine. My ribs ache a bit but I’m good to go, really.”

  “It’s not the ribs that worry me, it’s the blows to the face you took.”

  “I’ve got a thick skull, so no worries. Isla’s brother’s staying with us so if we feel unwell he can bring us back.”

  “Well, alright, although I want it noted that I do recommend you remain with us for another night. Judging by your determined expression that isn’t going to happen.”

  “It’s not. Sorry.”

  “On your head be it.”

  She left to continue her ward round and Ross, who had been asked to remain outside during the examination, returned to the room.

  “Bloody hell, she looks a bit fierce,” he commented. “Did she say you could go?”

  “Yeah,” replied Mike. He took Isla’s hand. “Let’s get out of here honey.”

  “I can’t wait.” Her smile fell when Mike and Ross glanced at each other. “What is it?”

  “You have to tell her,” said Ross. “It’s only fair.”

  “Tell me what?” she said, looking from one to the other.

  “When the police were looking for you,” began Mike uncertainly. “They found something. In the cellar. Well, not so much in it as under it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Mike took a deep breath, hating himself for dumping this on her when she was so fragile. “The police found your granddad Robert’s body buried under the floor of the cellar. He was murdered.”

  Isla’s eyes flicked from him to Ross. “You’re joking?”

  “I wish I was,” sighed Mike.

  “But he ran off with another woman. Gran told us.”

  “She made that story up,” said Ross. “It’s definitely him, there’s no mistake.”

  “But…how?”

  “The police are still trying to work that one out,” said Mike gently. “They’ll let us know as soon as they find out. We didn’t want to dump this on you now but we thought it only fair to t
ell you before we took you back to the cottage.”

  “You thought I might not want to go back if I knew?”

  They both nodded.

  “Well I do. Nothing is running me out of my own home.”

  Mike smiled. She still had her spark.

  “When I was trapped in that place,” she continued, taking Mike’s hand. “I kept thinking about being back at home with you. It kept me alive.”

  “Alright, if that’s what you want, we’ll go home.”

  “Finally.”

  The three of them left the hospital, walking slowly, Isla because of exhaustion and Mike because of his ribs. Ross steered them out through a side door via the maternity unit to avoid the waiting journalists.

  “Not that I think they’ll give you any bother anyway Mike,” he joked. “They’re all scared of you.”

  “Why would they be scared of you?” said Isla.

  “Well, I might have threatened them with a shotgun,” replied Mike.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t hurt them but it saw them off.”

  “It sounds like there’s a lot you need to tell me.”

  “There is.” So much he didn’t know where to begin, it overwhelmed him. At least all that could wait for now. First on the agenda was getting Isla settled at home and ensuring she would be comfortable staying there, despite her words.

  Ross drove them home in Mike’s Land Rover. Isla and Mike sat together in the back seat, Isla sinking into his arms, gazing out at the landscape. When they reached Loch Eck she sat up a little straighter.

  “The trees have turned even redder,” she commented. “It’s so beautiful.”

  She’d once told Mike that her soul belonged to this place, that she could never leave it and after living here a full year he could understand why, corpses of dead grandfathers and psychotic colonels aside.

  The cottage wasn’t visible from the road but the top of the driveway leading down to it was clearly marked out by the group of journalists that had gathered there. Mike wondered if someone at the hospital had blabbed that they were on their way home.

  It appeared they weren’t going to move to allow them access to the cottage, until Ross gunned the engine, making it clear he wasn’t going to stop and they all had to run for their lives.

  “Nice one,” smiled Mike.

  “I think between the two of us we can fend them off,” he replied.

  Mike watched Isla carefully as the cottage came into view. She smiled her first true smile since he’d pulled her out of that wall.

  They got out of the car and headed inside.

  “I left the heating on,” said Ross, carrying their bags. “So it’s all toasty inside.”

  Mike unlocked the front door and went in first. Ross held back so Isla could go in next, which she did unflinchingly. He followed, kicked the door shut behind him and dumped the bags in the hallway.

  Isla stripped off her shoes and hung up her coat, stuffed her small feet into her slippers and padded into the kitchen.

  “Who wants a brew?” she said.

  “I’ll do that,” said Mike, following her in.

  “No you won’t,” said Ross. “I’ll do it. The doctor told you both to rest, so sit down and leave it all to me. Billy gave me the biggest carrot cake you’ve ever seen for your homecoming.”

  “Mmm lovely,” said Isla, the colour returning to her cheeks.

  In truth Ross was anxious to get her out of the kitchen, which led into the utility room. He’d purposefully closed the door so she wouldn’t have to look at it but they all turned to face it, irresistibly drawn there.

  “Come on Mike,” said Isla, taking his arm. “Let’s sit down so Ross can wait on us hand and foot.”

  “Sounds good,” he winked, walking into the sitting room with her.

  She paused in the doorway to take it all in and smiled. “You’ve taken good care of the place.”

  “Thank Phoebe for that. She couldn’t resist doing some housework. Her and Jake have been pretty great actually. They were really there when I needed them.”

  “They said they’d stop by when you’re feeling up to it,” Ross called from the kitchen. “They can’t wait to see you.”

  “I’m grateful to them but right now I can’t face anyone, except you two.”

  She sank onto the couch and Mike sat beside her, wrapping his arms around her.

  “My book’s still on the window seat,” she commented.

  “I wouldn’t let anyone move it,” said Mike. “I didn’t want you to lose your place.”

  “That is so sweet,” she said, nuzzling in closer. “Did you ever doubt that I’d come home?”

  “No. I wasn’t going to stop looking until I found you.”

  “Thank you,” she rasped.

  Mike looked down and saw silent tears running down her face but he didn’t comment. He just held her, knowing that was what she needed.

  Ross entered the room bringing the delicious aroma of coffee with him. Isla sat up straight and wiped her face on the backs of her hands. “Smells lovely,” she smiled.

  The coffee and cake were dished out and they ate in silence, Mike and Ross continually glancing Isla’s way, who retreated into her own world, gazing out of the window towards the loch and the jetty. Mike ached to ask whether she was reliving painful memories or if she could even remember what had happened.

  “So,” he said, unable to keep it in any longer. “How do you feel being back home?”

  “Much better,” she replied.

  Mike and Ross glanced at each other when she went silent again, gaze returning to the window.

  When Isla had finished her coffee and cake she drifted off to sleep on the couch. Gently Mike lay her down and wrapped the throw around her. The two men tiptoed out of the room to talk.

  “I don’t like it,” said Ross, carrying the dirty cups and plates into the kitchen on the tray. “She must have some reaction to Granddad’s body being found here.”

  “Maybe she’s too busy processing what she’s been through to even think about it?”

  “If she is even processing it. Why won’t she talk about it?”

  “We can’t even begin to imagine what she’s feeling. She was walled up alive for Christ’s sake.”

  “True. I just feel so useless. I want to help her but I’ve no idea how.”

  “How long do you have off work? You don’t have to rush back, do you?”

  “No. I’m owed a lot of time. I can go back when I want. Why, am I in the way?”

  “No, not at all. I’m so glad you’re here because I’m feeling like a real fish out of water.”

  “I’ll stay as long as you need me. All I ask is that when I am in the way you tell me. This is your home.”

  Mike noticed his eyes slip towards the closed door of the utility room. Ross couldn’t wait to get out of here but he was overcoming his fears for his sister.

  Alex had been hanging around the hospital canteen since it had opened that morning, hoping to see Hannah. Despite his best efforts he’d still not managed to talk to her because of all the family members piling in to see Will, who it seemed was on the mend. He was waiting here as he reasoned she had to eat eventually. As she’d been discharged she was no longer a patient.

  When she finally walked in at eight thirty he leapt up from his table to greet her.

  “Hannah,” he said, taking her hands. “I’ve been waiting here, hoping to talk to you. I’ve had to keep a low profile because your family have been in and out, I don’t know if they know about us.”

  “They don’t,” she replied, anxiously looking around, making sure no one she knew was watching.

  “Please, sit down,” he said, leading her to his table.

  She took a seat, eyes flicking about the room.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” he said in a breathless rush, overwhelmed to be back with her. “I’ve been so scared, wondering if I would ever see you again.”

  “I heard how you helped look for me. T
hank you.”

  “I’d do anything for you.”

  “Alex, I…”

  “I know Will’s going to be off his feet for a while and he’s going to need your support. So I want you to know that I’ll wait until you’re ready to move out. I’m in the middle of packing, I can’t wait to leave that awful mausoleum of a house I used to share with that mad bitch.” He grasped her hands. “I can’t wait to start our new life together.”

  Gently she extricated her hands from his. “There’s something I need to tell you Alex.”

  “What’s that?”

  “While I was in that horrible prison in the floor…”

  “You don’t remember the wall then?”

  “No, thank God. I was drugged before I was put in there. I heard Isla woke up in the wall. What she must be going through…”

  “Are you okay?” he said when she paused to wipe her eyes.

  She took a deep breath. “I will be. When I was in that place there was one person I couldn’t stop thinking about…”

  He beamed with happiness and took her hands, frowning when she pulled them away.

  “It was Will,” she said, eyes shiny with tears. “I realised I do still love him, we’d just got stuck in a rut with work and the kids. I thought I was going to die and he’d never know how I truly feel.”

  “No, you love me, you told me.”

  “I do love you Alex but not as much as him. You were there when I needed a friend and I will forever love you for that.”

  “A friend? We’re much more than that.”

  “We were but not anymore.”

  “W…what are you saying?”

  “That it’s over. I have to concentrate on my husband. I only hope he can forgive me.”

  “No, wait. We were going to start a new life together, I’ve bought us a house.”

  She covered his hands with her own. “You are a dear, kind man and you deserve much better than me and Phillipa.”

  Furiously he shook his head. “I want to be with you Hannah, I love you so much.”

  “You don’t. You were trapped in an unhappy marriage, as was I and we turned to each other. I’ve realised my marriage wasn’t really unhappy, I’d got bored but I really do love Will.”