by T. H. Hunter
After what felt like half an eternity, Val returned from the downstairs, a look of triumph on her face.
“It’s room number five,” she whispered.
Val and I began the search, but Barry spotted it almost right away. He meowed as softly as he could to attract our attention and then pointed to the door that was directly adjacent to the stairs that led downstairs. We approached it. Below the number five, set on a brass plate, was a spyhole. I tapped on the door three times, though it remained unanswered.
“Perhaps he’s downstairs?” said Val.
“Not at this time, surely,” I said.
“Try again, then,” she said.
Yet again, there was no reply. I gently tried to open the door, but it was locked. I could tell that Barry was about to open his mouth and whisper instructions. But by now, I knew the spell well enough without his help.
“Vertere.”
The lock of the door clicked twice, and Val was able to push it open with ease. Making sure that nobody else saw us from one of the other rooms or the landing, we stepped inside the unlit room.
“Quickly, let’s get inside before we’re caught,” I said.
Barry trotted in, followed by Val. I closed the door softly behind us, casting the room into complete darkness.
“Mr. Bolton?” I said.
But there was no reply.
“Turn on the light, will you, Val?” I said.
Val fumbled briefly along the walls, her nails scratching the plaster. Eventually, the flick of a switch told me that she had found it. The bright light from the bulb above flashed, rendering me blind for a brief moment. But as my eyes quickly adapted, I saw that there was something horribly wrong. Drawers had been torn open, their contents strewn across the floor. Bags and bins had been emptied, and some of the furniture had been turned over.
“Look, over there,” Val pointed, her eyes wide in fear.
At the foot of the bed, a large figure was lying perfectly still. Wand at the ready, I stepped closer to investigate.
“It’s Bolton, alright,” I said, bending down.
“Wait,” said Barry. “We’ve got to make sure that we’re alone.”
We checked the bathroom, yet apart from us, the room was empty. I felt Mr. Bolton’s pulse. There was none.
“He’s dead,” I said grimly. “We’ve come too late.”
“That’s what usually happens to blackmailers,” said Barry. “I could have told him that.”
“That’s not going to help now, is it?” I said irritably. “But we’ve got to make sure. Barry, can you tell whether death was caused by magic?”
But Barry was already investigating the question and held up a paw as a signal for us to wait. He sniffed at Bolton’s hair and face, lifting the clothing above the chest and arms. After a moment or two, he turned to us again.
“From a superficial examination, I’d say the chances are very high that this is the work of the killing curse,” he said. “Though undoubtedly our killer tried to disguise the fact. Notice the peculiar blue shapes on the chest here and here. They indicate that the killer tried to cloak the spell as a normal heart attack. A heb doctor would most likely be fooled, since he wouldn’t be able to connect the discolorations to the heart attack.”
Val put her hand over her mouth.
“This is just awful,” she said.
“The sorcerer is absolutely ruthless,” I said. “He’s willing to kill repeatedly and without a second thought. We’ve got to find out who did this. Who knows when he’ll strike next.”
“Amy,” Val whispered, panic seeping through every syllable. “Do you… do you think the killer could target us, too?”
I averted my eyes, not knowing what to say next.
“Amy,” Val continued, now visibly shaking out of fear. “Remember what Mrs. Haughton said? About you, I mean? That you would be in great danger. Well, she was right. What if the sorcerer tries to kill us next? To kill you?”
Barry walked over to us, his gaze heavier than I had ever seen it before in the few months that I had known him. He suddenly looked a lot older and greyer. His usual, reassuringly superior manner had vanished. Instead, his voice sounded thin and strained.
“From the murderer’s point of view,” Barry said, “it’s the logical thing to do. The heb police alone are no threat to him. Amy is the only other spellcaster on the island. And as such, she’s the greatest threat.”
“Then we have no time to lose,” I said immediately.
“But we have no way of knowing who did this… this horrible thing,” said Val miserably, indicating Bolton’s body on the floor. “They’ve ransacked the place. Turned it upside down.”
She was right, of course. The room resembled a battlefield. Nevertheless, we had to search the room for some clue.
“We’ve got to find something,” I said. “Anything.”
Well aware that if anyone entered the room, it would have taken a lot more than a little explaining, all three of us began searching the place.
The minutes streamed by without any results. We had checked everywhere, even the bathroom, thought nothing seemed to be any use in identifying the killer.
Frustrated, I was just about to give up on the search when a gleaming object underneath the cupboard next to the bed caught my eye. I bent down to retrieve it. It was a smartphone, a very new model I was sure I had seen in Mr. Bolton’s hand the day before. I tried to gain access, but it demanded a fingerprint scan. As macabre as it sounded, we were desperate for information, so I bent down to get it. If it helped to find his killer, I thought to myself, it was worthwhile.
“What have you got there?” Barry asked inquisitively.
“It’s his phone,” I said. “He must have dropped it. Or perhaps it fell there when he was murdered.”
“Check the notes,” said Val. “Perhaps he wrote down a clue somewhere.”
I browsed around the unfamiliar screen, but all personal notes were older than a day, save for one. It was a voice recording. I tapped it, and Val, Barry, and I listened intently.
“Quite the inheritance,” came Bolton’s confident voice from within the phone. “Should make my silence worthwhile. Negotiation tonight.”
Barry was right. Blackmail was a dangerous game to play.
“What did he mean about the inheritance?” asked Val.
“Well, whom do we know who lives a very comfortable lifestyle?” I asked. “Who inherited several castles and I don’t know how many other things from his rich father?”
“Patrick?” Val asked incredulously. “But that’s ridiculous, Amy. Come off it. He’s so… well, so nice. And handsome and…”
“Val, really?” I said. “Is that your defence?”
She went red in the face.
“Well, I don’t know…” she said.
“Where could he be now?” I asked her. “You spoke to him during the meeting, I suppose?”
“Yes,” she said defensively. “I can speak to whomever I like. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“There is if he’s the murderer,” I said hotly. “Where is he, Val?”
“He said he wanted some more fresh air,” she said. “He asked me whether I wanted to join him later, in fact.”
“He… what?” I said, my pulse rising. “You were going to meet him alone at night?”
I didn’t know why I was so angry at her. It was just typical of Val to be this foolish, meeting men in the dark on an island that was housing a homicidal sorcerer. But I couldn’t deny that, buried deep down, there was another, more selfish reason.
“There’s no need to be jealous, Amy,” Val said.
“Me? Jealous?” I spluttered. “That’s totally beside the point, Val… I… at least I’m not dating a killer!”
“Well, that’s quite the change from last time, isn’t it?” said Val.
“Please, ladies,” said Barry, holding up his paws. “Far be it from me to keep the peace, but we really have to move quickly if we want to catch him. Valerie
, do you know what he wanted?”
“He just wanted to talk to me about something,” said Val, “that’s all.”
“About what?” I demanded.
“He didn’t say,” said Val.
“Why didn’t you tell us that before?” asked Barry. “This is an important development.”
“Well, it didn’t come up!” she said unhappily. “Anyway, I only really got to talk to him tonight. He seemed nice, so why not? I’ve been cooped up in that stupid room for days without anything to do. I thought some contact would do me some good.”
“Not with a potential murderer, it wouldn’t,” said Barry acidly.
“Well, I didn’t know he would be a murderer, then, did I?” Val said angrily.
“Never mind that now,” I said. “We’ve got to catch him before he kills anyone else. What time were you two going to meet?”
Val nodded and checked her phone for the time.
“In three-quarters of an hour. It’s just – just so frustrating.”
“What is?” I asked.
“I mean that the only good-looking man on the entire island turns out to be a killer on the loose! Just my luck. Honestly, Amy, I’m really sorry, I never suspected any of this. I never suspected Patrick for a second.”
“Forget it. I’m not going to deny that he had me fooled, too. What’s important now is that we unmask him as the sorcerer. He’s played the innocent very well until now,” I said, “though a little pressure might bring his true nature to light.”
“I told you he wasn’t any good,” said Barry, the smugness quickly returning to his voice now.
“Seems you were right again, Barry,” said Val, sighing.
“Well, you said it,” he said. “Seems I’ve got it right twice in a row.”
“Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched, Barry,” I said. “We don’t know the full story yet.”
***
The three of us left the room again and stepped out into the hall. I thought it better to lock the door again by magic. It wouldn’t do at present for the rest of the hotel to be alerted. I wanted to deal with Patrick in isolation first. Perhaps even get him to the mainland before anyone knew what was going on, so that he wouldn’t be able to harm anyone else.
We got our coats from our room and stepped down the flight of stairs leading to the lobby as silently as we could. Luckily, there was nobody around. I opened the heavy front door, holding it open for Barry and Val to pass through. As I stepped outside, a shower of icy rain told me that the storm had only just got started. And I had to admit, I was far from getting used to it.
But the task at hand – my duty, even – was more pressing. It was now only a matter of waiting for Patrick to emerge. After some discussion, we decided it would be best to hide in one of the buildings adjacent to the workshop. That way, we’d mostly likely see him if he came either from the lighthouse or from the hotel.
After half an hour had passed, I was growing steadily more nervous, as well as cold. Just when I was wondering whether it had been a good idea to wait for Patrick instead of just searching for him, the door to the hotel opened. Wand at the ready, I held my breath, though I quickly relaxed it again. It was only Jane’s twin sister, Vanessa, who had come outside – most likely for a smoke or to entice her phone into giving her a better connection.
After several more minutes of waiting, the door opened again. This time, I was sure it was Patrick. His tall and slender features were unique. It couldn’t have been anyone else. As we had previously agreed, Val was to lead him away from the hotel, to lull him into a false sense of security. And then Barry and I would overpower him if necessary. From my hiding place I nodded to Val, whose lips tightened visibly as he approached her.
They talked briefly, and Patrick gestured towards the sea. Both of them walked slowly away from the hotel, down to the path that led to the pier. I was ready for anything. I was sure that my freezing jinx would hit him faster than he had time to pull anything crazy. They had their backs to us now, and Barry and I moved in closer so that we could hear what they were saying.
“So, where did you go after the meeting?” asked Val, trying to make the question as casual as possible.
“Oh, just out and about,” he said vaguely. “I like to explore places. The lighthouse is very interesting, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” said Val, “it is.”
There was a brief, awkward silence as they continued to walk down the hill towards the sea. Val and Patrick had almost reached the pier by now. Luckily, one of the outbuildings was nearby, so Barry and I hurriedly slid behind it when Patrick was looking the other way. Finally, Patrick stopped, turning to Val.
“Look, Val, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Patrick said, trying to make himself heard through the rain. “I hope you don’t see me as... Do you think you can keep a secret?”
“Of course,” said Val, though I could tell her tone was as icy as the winds surrounding them. “What is it?”
“Well, it’s about…” he began, but broke off immediately. “Do you promise not to tell anyone, regardless of what I tell you?”
My heart gave an involuntary leap. What on earth was Patrick on about? Was he mad enough to make a confession of his crimes to Val? Perhaps it was some insane urge to communicate his deeds to someone. Beside me, Barry looked at me with raised eyebrows. I made a gesture with my shoulders that I was just as perplexed as he was.
“What do you mean?” asked Val a few yards away from us, trying to remain as calm as possible.
Instead of answering, Patrick began fidgeting with his pipe in his pocket. There was no point in lighting it in this weather, of course, though I assumed it was something of a habit of his.
“I’m afraid I seem to be running out of time,” he said. “It’s all so complicated, you see…”
The sheer nerve and insolence was breathtaking, I thought, as I watched him act all shy and nervous, knowing what he had done to poor Anita Brown and Mr. Bolton. He had undoubtedly mastered his role to a degree of perfection, though I wasn’t buying it for a second. Val, meanwhile, seemed unable to say a word. It was time to rescue her. Whatever Patrick was up to, he could just as well make his confession before all of us.
“Hello Patrick,” I said loudly, emerging from my hiding place.
Patrick swung around immediately.
“I say, what the devil are you doing here?” he said, sounding utterly out of breath. “This is supposed to be a private meeting, you know, Amy. I…”
“We know you killed Anita Brown, Patrick,” I said, casually lifting my wand. “As well as Mr. Bolton.”
“What are you talking about?” he said, caught between nervousness and indignation. “And what are you doing with that stick in your hand?”
“You murdered two people,” said Val, turning on him, too. “Don’t deny it. We’ve found you out.”
“Me? I didn’t kill anyone. Bolton’s dead, you say? I just saw him a few hours ago. He seemed in perfectly reasonable shape. Well, all things considered.”
“We found him dead, Patrick,” I said. “In his room. The whole place has been turned upside down.”
“But… he can’t be,” he said. “Now look here, you aren’t serious about all this, are you?”
Val crossed her arms to show that we were, though I made sure to keep him covered with my wand at all times. Barry, his eyes narrowed in contempt, had placed himself at my side just in case. I made sure to keep my distance. At any sign of Patrick drawing his own wand, I was ready to hex him.
“What reason would I have to do them any harm?” said Patrick, a note of panic in his voice. “You can’t be serious, Amy. I’m entirely harmless. Too harmless, some of my friends say.”
“Where is the hexanomitron, Patrick?” I asked.
“The what?”
“The hexanomitron,” I repeated. “We know you have it. Where did you hide it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly. “N
ever heard of this… hexa… thingy.”
“You killed Anita Brown and Bolton to secure it, Patrick,” I said stubbornly. “There’s no use denying it.”
“This is madness,” said Patrick, running his hand through his hair. “You’ve got it all wrong. If you say it was murder, I believe you. But I’ve got nothing to do with it. What reason do you have to suspect me, anyway?”
“Bolton recorded a note to himself on his phone before he died,” I said. “He mentioned blackmailing someone with a rather large inheritance. And that makes you a prime suspect, don’t you think?”
“But…” he spluttered, “there must be others who…”
“… who’ve inherited a string of castles?” I said. “I don’t think so, Patrick.”
“I’m telling you,” he insisted. “I’ve got nothing to do with it.”
I looked over at Val. She had been uncharacteristically quiet for the entire conversation. Then, she gave me a very curious expression. For a flicker of a second, I thought that she actually believed him.
“Where did you go after the meeting was over?” I demanded.
Patrick looked away rather sheepishly.
“I wandered about the island,” he said. “Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“That’s not a very good alibi,” I said.
“It was never meant to be one,” Patrick said, his voice rising. “If you really want to know what I was doing, Amy, fine! Here it is: I was thinking of how best to ask you out without making a complete fool of myself.”
Patrick’s words struck me as if someone had swung a sledgehammer at me. Was this some insane ploy by Patrick to charm his way out of a tight spot? I looked desperately to Val, expecting to find a scornful look on her face. But instead, to my utter amazement, I saw her grinning.
“Val?” I asked weakly.
“He’s telling the truth, Amy,” said Val, giggling. “I can feel it. That’s his dark secret.”
“What?” I spluttered. “But he must be…”
“He isn’t the killer,” said Val simply.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
Val nodded. Patrick looked extremely relieved, though exposed at the same time. To my side, Barry was making grumbling noises that indicated that he didn’t at all care for the turn of events.