by Linda Coles
“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” she said to the empty room. She reached inside and pulled the first blanket to one side, reaching down into the box only to be greeted by even more blankets. It was a box of bedclothes. She did her best to seal it back up, and then rearranged the boxes so it became a bottom one rather than a top one. Perhaps that would hide the fact it had been tampered with, if only a little more. She selected another box at random and repeated the process. Sheets and towels peered back at her, looking particularly harmless. Since there were no plastic wrappers on anything, she figured everything was either second-hand or someone’s possessions. She sealed the box back up as best she could and hid it under an unopened one.
“What an anti-climax,” she mumbled as she made her way back up the stone steps, turning the light out as she went. Back up in the small kitchen, she closed the trapdoor and pulled the rug into place and stood for a moment contemplating a quick look at the view from the top floor.
She should have left there and then.
Chapter 39
He’d seen her enter the castle, as he’d approached in his van along one of the narrow lanes. The dog, Rupert, was with her. He was glad someone was taking care of him, hadn’t dropped him at the nearest pound, or worse. Perhaps he could retrieve him somehow? He pulled over and watched rather than let her hear his engine or see him again because he knew exactly who she was. Her nosey sister had been asking questions, not that he’d given her any answers but still, the woman was snooping, putting her nose where trouble most certainly lay. Who were this pair and why were they involving themselves? He waited a while longer before finally deciding to walk the rest of the short journey. If she was simply out for a walk, then he was too – what a coincidence. That would be the ideal scenario but, as he got closer, he instinctively knew it wasn’t likely. As he approached the door, only the dog was outside, a dog that knew him well and greeted him with a lick to his cheeks, demanding a belly rub for afters. He declined, held his finger to his lip in a sign to keep quiet and peered in through the lower-floor window. The rug was tossed to one side. That meant one thing: she was in the cellar. He clenched both fists into tight balls and punched the air by his side in an attempt to keep control of his annoyance. And stay silent himself. He thought about the contents of the boxes in the cellar below, undoubtedly her target since there was nothing else in the property worth her nosey attention. Household items, nothing of value. Not to her anyway. Opening the door quietly, he watched the cellar entrance for movement before stepping into the room, his own key in his pocket and not needed to gain entry, this time. He had to know where she and her sister fitted into all this; he couldn’t afford another project to be picked undone like the last one had been. Too much planning, organisation, man- and woman-power, not to mention the funds required to make them a success. It all added up, and when something toppled from its position, it threatened the rest of the structure. He waited in a dark corner at the base of the stairs that led to the upper floors, hoping to hear her make a phone call or at least enable him to discover something he could use to understand how much she knew.
Footsteps returning from below, the light switched off, the rug pulled back into place. He needed to get into that cellar before any more time passed and that left only one thing for it. He couldn’t risk any more setbacks, not now. Glancing to his left, he saw the lamp just out of arm’s reach and so quickly moved closer, and bent to remove the plug from the socket, quietly. A slight click hung on the air for a moment too long and he prayed she hadn’t heard the sound. But Julie had.
As she came around the corner, to investigate, he assumed, he raised the lamp high before bringing it down on the base of her skull.
She fell to the floor with a thump. He bent down and checked for a pulse. Murder had not been a part of the plan. He breathed a sigh of relief; it was still there. He lifted her up and laid her on the sofa before racing back outside to his van and driving right up to the building. There wasn’t much time, she could stir at any minute, and he contemplated tying her up. With what though?
“Forget it,” he scolded himself and, as quickly as he could, loaded the boxes into his van before closing the cellar door and replacing the rug once more. Daring himself, he checked her pulse again, it was there but she was still out cold. She’d have a headache to match any hangover when she came to, likely accompanied by a lump the size of an egg. Needs must.
“Sorry, beautiful woman.”
He left the main door unlocked and raced back around to his van where he hoped the sound of the engine starting wouldn’t bring her to, not just yet. Give him ten minutes at least. As he drove back down the lane, he glanced a couple of times in his rear-view mirror, half expecting to see her watching his van disappear into the distance, but she never did. Once out onto the main road, he switched the radio on, more to relieve the tension, for something else to fill his head with, than to listen to music as he made his way to his destination. Someone else needed him.
Back inside, Julie lay on the sofa looking to all the world as if she was taking a nap. It was the sound of her own phone ringing that finally raised her from her slumber, and she struggled to orientate herself before crying out at the pain that shot up her neck. By the time she’d realised where she was and what was happening, Chrissy had rung off. She leaned forward, trying to head the nausea off as her stomach rolled. She felt the back of her head where the pain was coming from. A smudge of blood clung to her fingers, just enough to tell her that her skin had been broken. But how? She hadn’t seen anyone. Had someone else been inside? What other explanation could there be? She spotted the unplugged lamp lying nearby. Had someone used that on her skull? She remembered the strange click sound, just before it had all gone dark. Her phone rang again and this time she was able to answer it.
“Hi Chrissy,” was all she could force out before the pain took over.
“I thought you were going to text me? Are you okay?”
Julie glanced at the time on the phone. It was almost 11 am. She should have been back long ago.
“Sorry, I’m fine. Nothing but blankets and towels in the boxes,” she explained, rubbing her temple with her free hand. She had to get out of there. “Listen, I’ve got to go, we’ll talk when you get back.” Then she hung up, something she couldn’t ever recall doing to her sister. As she stood, the room began to sway, but eventually she gained her balance and made her way outside into fresh air. The blinding bright light stung her eyes and she felt for her sunglasses which were no longer there. They must have been dislodged when she went down. There was no way she was going to leave her Victoria Beckham aviators behind; they were hard enough to come by to be disposed of so easily. Plus, she didn’t want to leave any evidence she’d been there, though it appeared somebody else knew she had. She spotted the sunglasses lying on the floor and gingerly knelt to retrieve them before returning them to her head.
That’s when she heard it.
Chapter 40
Brocc knew well enough that his sister was in trouble and that worried him. She was too old to be getting involved in risky stuff and even though he had no clue what it was, the fact that he’d seen tears in her eyes, and that she’d mentioned perhaps being run off the road, gave him cause for concern. While he wasn’t particularly bright in the technology department, he knew that, like many, her life was on her phone and he intended to find out what he could while he had it. He’d no idea what the cloud was apart from those above him in the sky, so he didn’t have to put much of an act on when he went to the shop. If he could convince the salesperson he was just an old technophobe with no clue, they might just help him out. He opened the door and went inside. After a few moments of browsing the variety of phones on display, a young man approached him and asked if he could help. Sundip likely knew the answers to everything Brocc wanted to ask. Phone-related at least.
“Broke my phone,” was all he said as he pulled it from his pocket still in its plastic bag. “Time for a new one.”
Sundip took the phone from him and agreed. While he could probably get the screen replaced, Bronagh didn’t want to wait and likely the young man was looking at full commission on a replacement.
“Do you want the same again?” he asked.
“I do,” said Brocc as he watched him move to the counter and retrieve a small box with a replacement phone from the shelves behind him. As Brocc approached the desk, he said, “Can you update it for me? I’ve got the password. It’s in the cloud, like.”
Sundip smiled, though looked at him a little sceptically. Brocc needed to push a little.
“Only I’m not very good at this technology stuff, would you mind?” He tried a smile, something Brocc didn’t offer very often.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said and turned the replacement phone on. Brocc watched as he tapped the screen at various prompts. He answered the simple set up questions but when it came time to do the upload, he left the password with the young man and browsed the rest of the shop to keep away from questions he didn’t have the answers to.
Looking at the display, he wondered if it was time for a replacement phone of his own. For the amount of money, it seemed a lot for such a small item. His trusty old phone was on its last legs, but he’d seen Jake’s back at the garage and knew he could take photographs with it. He’d quite like to be able to do that himself. There were so many birds along the coastline, yet he’d never indulged himself with a camera. He walked back to the counter to see how things were progressing. “I won’t set the passcode, so you can do that yourself, but I’ll show you how to do it.” Brocc watched, even though he knew Bronagh would be able to do it herself.
“And all your calls and texts have transferred across too,” he said, tapping each green button in turn to show him. When he’d finished, Brocc handed over his credit card to pay for it then said, “Actually, can I have another one?” Bronagh was right, he rarely spent money on himself, he’d treat himself and have the same one. Sundip looked at him as if he’d just grown an extra head and said, “Sure.” Brocc watched as he retrieved another one from the cabinet and placed it on the desk. “Do you want me to set this one up too?”
“Go on so,” said Brocc. “But don’t do the update.”
“Whatever. Do you need a SIM card for this one?”
Brocc had no clue and it showed.
“A telephone number.”
Brocc was beginning to catch up a little. “Can I use one I already have, in my old work phone?”
“Yes. Do you have it with you also?”
“No. But I can get the lad to do it for me.” That seemed to be enough. Likely pleased at double the commission, Sundip busied himself doing the basic set-up. When everything was complete, Brocc paid for the second phone and left the building feeling quite pleased with himself. He hadn’t done too bad. Perhaps Jake could show him how to get his few contacts from his old phone transferred across. He headed to a bench further on down the high street and pulled out Bronagh’s new phone. He stared at it, not entirely sure what to do to get into it, then remembered the young man had used his finger to swipe. He had a go.
“Would you look at that,” he said and tapped the green telephone icon. The screen filled with the last calls all listed by their names. He didn’t recognise any of them as he scrolled through the last few and then went back to the beginning to check the time of the last call. Bronagh hadn’t been using her phone at the time of the crash because her last call had been a couple of hours beforehand. He clicked on the text icon and read some of the texts. It didn’t feel right snooping, but with Bronagh lying in hospital he wanted to make sure she wasn’t in any danger. And he had questions of his own. The texts didn’t really say a lot and he didn’t recognise the names of those that had sent them. Bronagh appeared to know a good few people. He searched through a dozen or so more and realising there wasn’t much of interest, put the phone back in his pocket and carried on back to the car.
As he drove, his brain ticked through what he’d read and the common denominator that each text seemed to have. They talked of delivery and pickup. Was it to do with the shop? He couldn’t think she would have so many texts from suppliers about the same thing. He certainly didn’t get a text at the garage when a delivery was due. The courier just dropped it off. So, what else could they refer to?
He knew very well it was nothing to do with woollen sweaters.
Chapter 41
It was late morning by the time Brocc got back to the hospital and he wondered whether the nurse with a stern face would allow him access to drop the phone off. He’d already asked a favour of her and he suspected he’d have to leave it at her desk, something he didn’t want to do. As he approached the ward and opened the door, he peered round before inserting his whole being into the room. He couldn’t see her. Maybe she was on her tea break. He did his best to walk across to Bronagh’s bed without being seen. At the last minute a young voice called him back. He stopped dead in his tracks, wondering what to say and went with simple.
“I’m just dropping her new phone in. I won’t even need to speak to her,” he said. The whole exercise would take less than a couple of seconds. What was it with these nurses? She had a frown to match her older colleague’s. Brocc again raised his palms in surrender and she tutted and left him to it. Thankful for small mercies, he quickly approached Bronagh’s bed and could see she was sleeping. It took no time to retrieve his own old phone and slip her new one into the top drawer of the bedside cabinet. She’d find it later when it rang. At least now she’d have everything she needed to put her mind at ease and stop whatever it was that was troubling her. He’d told the young nurse he wouldn’t stay for a moment longer and waved a little, so she knew he’d left the room.
Brocc drove back towards the garage in silence, mulling over what he’d learnt in the last twenty-four hours: a lot, yet not much at all, and what he did know made little sense. He went straight back to the garage and slipped into his overalls. Jake was busy underneath an old Audi and grunted ‘hello’. Brocc called him over.
“Need your help, Jake.”
The young lad ambled over, sleeves rolled up, black grease up to his elbows, a smudge on his chin, likely from having a cigarette earlier on.
“What do you need?”
Brocc took his new phone out of his pocket. Jake whistled.
“Fancyyyy,” he said.
“The shop set it up, but I don’t know how to use it, get my numbers in it. Can you show me?”
He wiped his hands down his overalls before taking the brand-new phone in still grubby fingers. Brocc was about to say something, but since it was going to get covered in oil anyway it didn’t really matter whether it was his oil or Jake’s. The two moved to the small office area that was equally as grimy as the rest of the garage. Brocc sat down on his old swivel chair, Jake on another nearby. “What made you buy such a nice phone?”
“Time for an upgrade. And you can take photos and all with this one.”
“You can do a whole lot more than take photos with a smartphone,” said Jake. “Here, I’ll give you the whistle-stop tour. He wheeled himself across to meet Brocc’s chair and show him more closely. After ten minutes, Brocc knew the basics of taking a photograph, a video, sending a text, and making a call, as well as a couple of other things that he’d no doubt forget and never use in the lifetime of the phone. One thing he was pleased about was that he could use his phone as a torch, so when the light bulb outside his house went again, at least he’d be able see where to put the key in the lock. It was the small things that pleased him, that’s just how Brocc Bowen was.
When the lesson was complete, and his few contacts were added, he checked the time, and hoped Bronagh would be awake. He dialled the number and waited. After three or four rings her voice filled his ears and the first thing she said was ‘thank you’. He smiled. The simple things.
“Do you need me to bring anything later?” he said.
“No, thank you. I’m hopefully leaving here tomorrow, s
o I’ll be back home fairly soon. There’s no need to come back today, but perhaps call in the morning? I should know more then.”
“Will you manage at home?”
“I’m sure I will. It’s only a broken leg. Plenty of people have them and manage so why can’t I? My wrist won’t be a problem.”
Brocc grunted. He’d be the same, not one for hanging around lying in bed. He liked to get on with the day and Bronagh was no different. Plus, she had a business to run. He thought for a moment about the deliveries.