Under the Cobblestones

by Aline Riva

  Kyle wasn't the bravest of men no matter how many times Sally had told him she thought he was courageous over the way he had fought back from illness – the thought of pointing a gun at another human being and squeezing the trigger sickened him.

  But so did the thought of dying from the family curse.

  What if Frederick was right, that killing Zack would lift the curse?

  As the thought ran through his mind, he caught his breath and wiped tears from his eyes.

  “No!” he said firmly, “I'm not...I'm not going to hurt Zack!”

  And even though his only reply came as a breeze that rustled leaves of nearby trees, he felt sure that somewhere unseen, Frederick's ghost was watching and laughing as he mocked him.

  “I AM NOT KILLING MY BEST FRIEND!” he yelled, and then he sat there at the wheel of his car, taking in breaths to force himself to calm down, as he tried to banish the thought that Frederick had put inside his head, and he wasn't sure if he could, because he could still see it in his mind:

  An image of that shoe box on top of his wife's wardrobe, and the loaded gun he kept inside it...

  When he parked his car outside the cottage, Kyle sat there for a moment, trying to focus on the thought of what he had found before Frederick had burned the document. The thought of that gun was still at the back of his mind, even though he didn't want it to be there. Then he took in a breath and let it out slowly, and felt more together as he got out of the car. He opened up the gate and went up the path to the cottage, then he took the path that led around to the back, but found the garden empty and the back door locked.

  He checked the time and wondered if maybe they had both slept in late, and went back around the front of the cottage, then up to the porch, where he knocked on the door.

  He waited, and in his mind, something began to play out, and he could not pull back from it, nor shut off from it:

  He saw himself getting out of his car and opening the gate and walking down the path to the front door, his gaze fixed on that door as his eyes reflected cold purpose. He knocked twice, and the door was opened by Zack, who smiled warmly.

  “Kyle,” he said, “It's good to see you,” then his smile faded as he added, “I'm sorry about your bad news...I meant what I said, if I could lift that curse I would. I don't want you to die.”

  “Neither do I,” Kyle said coldly.

  And he raised the gun and fired twice and as the shots rang out and birds scattered from the treetops, Zack was thrown backwards into the hallway of the cottage as blood ran from two bloody bullet holes punched into his chest that turned his white shirt crimson.

  As Sarah ran to his side and slid to the floor and started screaming as she cradled Zack and his blood ran over her hands, Kyle was still standing there, watching as Zack took his last breath in Sarah's arms.

  “The curse is lifted now,” he said calmly.

  Kyle blinked and looked to the closed cottage door, then he brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes as he wished he could shut out these unwanted thoughts. It had to be Frederick doing this to his mind...

  “Get out of my head!” he whispered sharply, and then as he straightened up, the door opened and Sarah was standing there, and he noticed a worried look in her eyes.

  “You'd better come in,” she said, “Zack's had a terrible night, he's really shaken up.”

  Chapter 9

  As Kyle followed Sarah through to the front room of the cottage, his emotions felt like a twisted mess as he remembered the thoughts that Frederick had put into his mind, and then saw the look of anguish in his friend's eyes as Zack, who had been lying down on the sofa, sat up and gave a weary sigh.

  “I can't shake it off,” he said as Kyle sat beside him, “I went through everything he did – he was taken from the cottage, they beat him with hammers...I don't know where they buried him, I woke up before I saw the grave.”

  “And today I found paperwork signed by Frederick for a cobblestone path to be laid at Ravencroft cottage – it was dated two weeks before Thornton vanished,” Kyle told him, “I think he planned that carefully – arranged the work and made sure it wasn't carried out until the grave was dug under cover of darkness. Then they buried Thornton and covered the path the next day. No one would have questioned Frederick's alibi - he was one of the most respected men in the county because of his title, so if he told the police that work had been done two weeks before the murder, they would have accepted it. Also, we have to remember that Thornton had been missing a whole month before the police got involved, by then any pathway that had been laid would have set solid and would have looked just like all the rest.”

  Zack nodded.

  “It does make sense, but how can you be sure about this?”

  As he met his gaze, Kyle's face went pale.

  “I'm as sure as I was when I saw that same paperwork burst into flames on the desk,” he replied, “Sunlight caught an old glass vase and suddenly the paper was burning. But I don't think it was an accident.”

  “Neither do I,” added Sarah, “It sounds like your great great grandfather was trying to cover his tracks.”

  Kyle looked again to Zack, whose face was ashen, he truly looked exhausted, and it was clear at a glance that the dream of Thornton's torture had taken its toll on him. He wanted to tell him about the terrible images Frederick had put into his head, he wanted to tell him about how he had told him to kill him, and that the image of the gun he had hidden away at home was still at the back of his mind. He wanted to tell him everything, because he knew it made sense they kept no secrets. But seeing his close friend look so shattered from his ordeal, he just couldn't bring himself to explain it...

  Then Zack noticed the red, raised welts on Kyle's arm.

  “What's that?” he asked, indicating to the rash.

  Sadness shaded his eyes.

  “I don't know,” Kyle replied honestly, “Either it's a early sign that I'm no longer in remission, or it's Frederick trying to scare me. If he can burn paper he can cause a rash. I need to think it is his doing, because I'm terrified.”

  “It probably is him,” Zack replied, holding Kyle in his steady gaze, “Don't even think for one moment that he's ever told you the truth about anything. He said you were dying to frighten you. It has to be a trick.”

  And Kyle breathed a relieved sigh and nodded, as Sarah looked on saying nothing as she hoped Zack was right.

  A short while later, the three of them were out in the back garden standing on the patio area.

  “Cobblestones,” said Zack, “Pathways...okay, let's count them,” and he glanced to Sarah, “You take the front of the house, me and Kyle will do the back. Look at every pathway, look for cracks or breaks or difference in the pattern – anything that suggests something new was added a hundred years ago.”

  “It's hardly going to look new after a century,” Sarah pointed out.

  ”But bodies can rise, shifting the soil, graves can subside,”Zack reminded her, “Think about old graveyards and how bumpy the land goes. Same with the place where my bones are buried – we just need to find something in the stonework that doesn't seem right.”

  “Your bones again,” she said wearily, “I wish you wouldn't say that!”

  He looked fondly at her.

  “Go and check those pathways,” he said, and she smiled back at him.

  “Okay, and I'll have a good look at them, too...but I don't see how we can spot a difference after a century!”

  Then she walked around the side of the house and went out to the front garden.

  As she stood alone in the sunshine outside the cottage, Sarah looked down at the cobblestone pathway that ran from the porch to the front gate, it cut down the middle of a lush green lawn bordered by flowers, and there was not a crack nor a bump in the old stonework, the sun shone down brightly making the cobbled stones look baked in the heat, and all the way down the straight path to the gate was flawless.

  “One,” she said, and crossed the pathway to where a
second pathway ran off to the side of the house – this one was narrow and she walked it slowly as birds chirped in treetops and bees buzzed about flowers, until she came to an old greenhouse in the corner beside an old oak tree.

  “Two...and a half...” she murmured, noticing the pathway, which seemed cut off by some tall grass by the greenhouse, actually continued on behind it, and then she stepped over the clump of overgrown lawn and continued to walk until the path came to an end by an area where vegetables grew. She looked back, seeing no breaks or changes in the pattern of the old pathway. Then she turned back the way she came and went back to the main path, and then followed a third pathway - this one led to a small fish pond on the other side of the front lawn and was close to the low wall that bordered the property.

  “Nothing here,” she murmured, and then she looked again to the straight path that ran to the front door, where part of the old cobbles were in shade thanks to the thatched roof and the way it formed a canopy against the glare of the sun, putting the first part of the pathway just below the doorstep in shadow. Then she frowned, wondering if the cobbles looked different, or if it was just a trick of the light. But would anyone really bury a body right on the threshold of the house? The cobbles looked the same as the others, she saw no obvious join in the path at all... It was probably a trick of the light, she decided – and then she put that thought on hold until she knew what Zack and Kyle had turned up at the back of the house. Sarah took a walk around to the back garden, following the cobbled stones as she wondered if this counted as another path, or if they had already counted it as part of the back – either way, she saw nothing unusual about that pathway at all...

  “Look at it,” said Zack, and he indicated to the swirled pattern of the cobbles that covered the patio area.

  “I am,” replied Kyle, “What of it?”

  “It looks more recent than the rest,” Zack remarked hopefully.

  “That's because it is,” he told him, “Look at the pattern – this was added in the nineteen thirties. This part used to be bare earth until then, it's in the records I've got back at the office.”

  “Well thanks for not telling me that, I thought I'd found the grave!” Zack said.

  “I didn't think to tell you – I thought it was obvious,” Kyle replied, “The pattern is blended to match the cobblestones but swirled in a fancy pattern. It was just a later addition.”

  “It wasn't obvious to me,” Zack said, and then he looked down the path that ran to the bottom of the garden. “That forks off left and right,” he reminded him, “Do you see any cracks or abnormalities in the pathway, anything that stands out as odd?”

  “I do on the left,” Kyle replied, “I wouldn't have stuck red roses next to bright orange flowers like that – what a clash!”

  Zack laughed softly.

  “Smart arse,” he replied, “But seriously, do you see anything?”

  He shook his head.

  “Looks straight to me, but I'll walk it to make sure,” he replied, and then Kyle went up the path and examined the fork where it branched off, and then as he took the right path first, Sarah joined Zack on the patio.

  “Any luck?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he replied, “There doesn't seem to be anything unusual here at all.” Then Kyle took the other path, walking it around the back of the summerhouse and coming out the other side.

  “I just checked the three pathways behind here,” he called out.

  “That's one!” Zack called back.

  Kyle looked puzzled.

  “But it kind of bends, like one, two, three -”

  “It's one path,” Zack replied, “Any breaks or bumps?”

  Kyle shook his head, and then he walked back down the garden to join them.

  “I thought the start of the pathway, the area by the front porch looked a bit uneven,” Sarah told them.

  Zack thought about it.

  “You mean right by the doorstep?”

  She nodded.

  “That would probably be the shadow from the roof,” he replied, “Maybe the sheltered part isn't as worn away as the rest, too. I've often thought that part seems different, but I blame the way the roof hangs over for that.”

  “So you don't think you should dig it up?”

  Kyle had joined them now.

  He looked thoughtfully to Zack.

  “I really don't think we should dig up that front path unless we have a very good reason – it's a listed building and nothing is supposed to be touched. It's not as if we're sure the bones are underneath it.”

  “You could get away with it,” Zack replied, “You're lord of the manor.”

  Kyle shook his head.

  “What difference do you think that would make to the law, it's 2016! I can't take this place apart any more than you can – it would be different if we knew there was a body underneath it, but I doubt anyone would bury a body right under the front porch. I mean, people back then would have noticed the ground disturbed.”

  “Not if Thornton didn't have many visitors,” Sarah pointed out, ”No one knew he was missing for at least a month. That's a big gap in time, lots of time to get that work done and have the ground settle before anyone got suspicious.”

  Kyle and Zack looked at each other.

  “What do you want to do?” Kyle asked.

  Zack paused for thought.

  “I say we keep searching, and if we have nothing left to turn up, we get the pick axes out and take up that path in front of the house.”

  “And the law?”

  “Sod the law I want to find my bones.”

  Kyle nodded.

  “Okay, sod the law, then. If we do turn the bones up I doubt if disturbing a protected property will matter as much as solving a murder and giving Thornton a decent burial.”

  Zack smiled fondly as he looked at his friend.

  ”Thanks for being on my side in this. I really do need your help with it.”

  “I know that,” Kyle replied, and as he looked at Zack, that thought lurking at the back of his mind slipped closer as he pictured taking the gun from the shoe box and making that drive over to the cottage. He didn't want to kill him. Killing Zack was the very last thing he ever wanted to do, but Frederick's words had some how got stuck inside his head, and the more he thought about how Zack looked like Thornton, the more he wondered if killing him really would rid him of the curse that had killed every other man in his family who had inherited the title of Lord...

  “Are you okay?” Zack asked as Kyle's gaze lingered on him.

  Kyle blinked, and the look was gone.

  “I was just thinking about these pathways...I haven't seen a break in any of them, nothing to suggest there could be anything buried here. Let's keep the front path I mind but I really do think we should look more into turning up other details first,” he replied, “Let me see what else I can find at the office. And then there's Lillith... there could be something of hers left in the attic that might offer a clue. After the old manor burned down everything that could be saved was either placed into the rebuilt house or shoved up in the attic. It's full of old stuff, I haven't been up there for years. Let me see what I can find out, okay?”

  “I really appreciate that, Kyle,” he said gratefully, ”How about I give you a hand with it?”

  “Okay,” Kyle replied, and he smiled back at his friend as he felt a stab of guilt at the thought of Zack coming back to the family home, and being so close to that gun he couldn't stop thinking about...

  Then Sarah went inside the cottage, and Zack turned away to follow.

  “Zack.”

  He looked back at Kyle.

  “Do you think if we find the bones, maybe the curse will lift from my family?”

  Zack blinked.

  “Sorry, what? I don't know about curses, Kyle. I only know what I heard him say when I saw though his eyes.”

  Kyle stepped closer.

  “You saw him curse Frederick. That was the start of it. Tell me what he said.”


  “Kyle, I don't think it matters -”

  “It does.”

  As he turned to leave, Kyle grabbed his arm, and Zack looked at him in surprise, and then he pulled back from his grip, seeing a sudden intensity about Kyle's eyes as he fixed him with a look he had never seen before in the gaze of his usually easy going friend.

  “Okay,” he said, noticing the rash on his arm looked livid, and guessing the possibility that it meant his illness had returned would probably explain why Kyle didn't seem quite right today, “Let me think...it was horrible to live through how he suffered, I'm still getting over that...but I think I can recall the words...” he hesitated, looking intently at Kyle, “Are you sure you want to know, because if his curse is responsible for your illness, wouldn't this just make you feel worse?”

  “No,” Kyle promised him, “I need to know, I have to hear what he said.”

  Zack gave a sigh. The words were there, bright in his mind, just like he recalled the chalk circle on the cottage floor and the intricate markings it bore, it was as if it had all become second nature to him now, as if all he had to do was see through Thornton's eyes, and that past life just jumped back to life and everything supernatural and magical felt so right...perhaps, it felt too right...

  “Thornton was on the ground,” he said, “And he looked up at Frederick Brackenby and he said, 'I set a curse upon the family name of Brackenby, poison to the blood of every heir to the title of Lord. Poison and death to you and all who follow your lineage...poison to your blood.”

  And the sun was lost behind a cloud as the heat dipped and a chill sighed through the garden. Kyle looked at him intently, and kept on looking at him.

  “That's the curse that gave me cancer?” he asked darkly.