Nine Lives

by Anita Waller

  17

  Beth looked in the mirror and laughed. Calling in to pick up some milk from the local store had tempted her into buying a witch hat with an attached wig – bright orange hair that floated across her face every time she moved – and it totally changed her. She took a quick selfie and sent it to Erica with the message I’m ready, then headed for the lounge.

  She carefully emptied all the sweets into a large fruit bowl, then opened a can of soup. She wasn’t hungry, knew she would be dipping in and out of the sweets all night, and she’d also accidentally picked up a delicious crusty loaf, so tomato and basil soup with grated cheese on it was exactly the ticket, she reckoned.

  Carefully pouring the hot soup into the dish, her hand reached for the grated cheese. She heard the knock at the door, and grabbed the sweets.

  Two witches and a skeleton stood outside, a woman dressed as a ghost waiting at the end of the path.

  ‘Trick or treat?’ the children yelled in unison, and Beth laughed.

  ‘We’ll go for treat.’ She held out the bowl. All three children thanked her, and the woman at the end of the path held up a thumb to also say thanks. Beth held up the Haribos, silently asking the mum if she wanted a treat, but the woman laughed and shouted no thanks, she would help the children with their sweets later.

  Beth watched as the children walked down the path to rejoin the woman, then she quietly closed the door.

  She had washed her dishes before the second knock came, and this time it was two larger skeletons and a fairy. The fairy clung grimly on to one of the skeletons; she was hardly big enough to walk on her own, but clearly determined to join in with whatever her big brothers were doing.

  Beth looked around. ‘You’re not with your mum?’

  ‘Yeah,’ was a skeleton’s response. ‘She’s down the road waiting for us.’

  Beth held out the dish and grumbled inwardly that her visitors were taking most of the Swizzels lollies. She smiled and waved as they disappeared out of the front gate, running down to meet their mother.

  Beth carried the bowl to the console table. ‘Best take one before they all go, Beth.’ She removed a Swizzels lolly and placed it in the drawer.

  The evening passed with multiple visitors, and at eight o’clock Beth decided it was probably all over. The knock made her jump, and she picked up the dish for what she guessed would be the last set of visitors for the night. The previous two or three groups had been ten- to twelve-year-olds, the little ones from earlier probably tucked up in bed.

  She straightened her hat and wig, opened the door with a smile and felt the punch to her jaw. She staggered backwards, and the intruder followed her in, hitting her again.

  This time she went down, the hat and wig skittering across the floor. His foot connected with her ribs and she screamed.

  ‘Shut up, silly cow,’ Evan snarled. ‘Thought you could get away with changing the locks, did you? Payback time, darlin’. I’m here for what’s mine.’

  This time his foot connected with her head and she knew nothing more.

  Erica was reading through her notes, occasionally dipping her hand into the sweet bowl that still held quite a few of every variety known to man.

  ‘Good night, wasn’t it?’ she said, lifting her head as Frannie brought hot drinks in for them.

  ‘If you say so,’ Frannie answered, half laughing. ‘Thank God it’s only once a year.’

  ‘You’ll be telling me next you don’t like Christmas.’

  ‘Love Christmas, as you know. I simply think Halloween is a bit…’ she searched for the right word, ‘paganish.’

  ‘That a word?’

  ‘No idea, but you know what I mean. You and the devil in cahoots, what could be scarier. What are you doing, anyway?’

  ‘I’m looking through some reports – I missed a lot of input by being out and about today. I’ve got Beth’s list of people who’ve been released, and she’s redlined three out of the eight but the fourth one has a row of question marks against it. Harvey Orgreave. He was sentenced in January twenty-fifteen, released about two months ago. It’s the right time frame. I’ll give her a ring, I think, and ask her about the question marks.’

  She picked up her phone, selected ‘Favourites’ and hit the call button. There was nothing other than a connecting ring. She waited patiently and then it disconnected. She waited a couple of minutes, then tried again, but still received no answer.

  She searched for Beth’s landline number and called that, and once again there was silence. Erica felt uneasy, but returned to reading the notes.

  There was still no response half an hour later and she immediately put in a call to the station.

  ‘Steve, DI Cheetham. We got any squad cars around DS Machin’s home address? She’s having some bother with her ex, and I can’t raise her. I’m a tad concerned.’

  ‘Lives in Crookes, doesn’t she? Hang on, ma’am, I’ll put a shout out.’

  She could hear his voice in the background relaying Beth’s full address, and then he returned to her.

  ‘They’re one minute away, ma’am. Want to hang on?’

  ‘I do. Her ex is a bully. She’s recently changed all her locks to keep him out, so…’

  ‘So you’re worried. Hang on, you’ll know soon enough.’

  She waited, her patience at an end. She needed to know Beth was okay. She hoped she was in the bath, or had already gone to bed, but somehow she knew that wasn’t the case. Detective sergeants always had their phone switched on.

  There was the sudden clattering of the phone being picked up, and Steve spoke. ‘Ma’am? They’ve found her – the door was open and she was lying in the hall. They’ve sent for an ambulance. There’s a lot of blood…’

  ‘I’m going there now. ETA ten minutes. If you hear anything else, ring me.’ Erica felt her head spin as panic overwhelmed her. She should have followed her gut reaction after the first phone call had elicited no response.

  She put down the phone and grabbed her coat. ‘Don’t wait up,’ she said to a startled Frannie. ‘It seems Beth is injured. Lot of blood they’ve said.’

  Frannie gave a brief nod in acknowledgement, then hugged her. ‘Go. Let me know how she is. Calm down, you’ll be no good to her in this state.’

  Erica drove, her foot hard to the floor. She reached Beth’s house to see an ambulance and three squad cars outside – when one of their own was injured, forces gathered.

  She climbed out of her car and ran, waving her warrant card needlessly at the young constable who was preventing anyone getting through the crime scene tape who shouldn’t be there. He knew who she was. He lifted the tape as she approached.

  ‘Paramedics with her now, ma’am,’ he said, and she thanked him.

  Beth was lying on the hall floor, unconscious.

  Erica stood, feeling utterly helpless. She watched as the paramedics attached connectors to Beth, then shocked her with the defibrillator. To her police eye there seemed to be no response, and she wanted to scream at them, to tell them to bring her friend back, to make her breathe.

  The ambulance travelled with blue lights flashing and a siren to warn all recalcitrant witches and wizards to get out of their way. Erica followed in its wake, never leaving the back doors more than about eight feet in front of her.

  She spoke briefly to Frannie to fill her in on what had happened, and Frannie had been warmly supportive with the usual platitudes of she was sure Beth would be fine, strong woman, keep your chin up, but Erica had seen the faces of the paramedics as they had battled to bring her back to life.

  ‘Love you,’ Frannie had concluded. ‘Stay as long as you’re needed.’

  ‘I will,’ Erica said. ‘Love you too. We’re at the Northern General now, so I’ll see you later.’

  She pulled into the car park nearest to the ambulance station and ran back up the hill to join Beth. A doctor had been waiting, it seemed, and she had to hover to hear what was to happen next. A nurse pressed a cup of tea into her hand, saying she look
ed as though she needed it, and Erica smiled her thanks before sipping gratefully at it.

  It seemed an age before she saw the doctor; Beth was heading for surgery, and did Erica know her next of kin.

  ‘I’ve already contacted her parents,’ she said. ‘They’re on their way. I’ve told them to go to A and E, I’ll meet them there.’

  ‘No. A and E will direct them to the relatives’ room. Wait in there, DI Cheetham. It will be comfier for you, and will save you having to arrest the drunken skeletons and witches we always get on Halloween.’

  ‘Thank you. You’ll let us know…’

  ‘Of course. You’re close colleagues?’

  ‘Very close. Beth is my sergeant. Currently working a case that’s making us see each other differently, and as a result we seem much closer. She’s in here right now because I felt uneasy, not because of good policing or anything. If we hadn’t been close she wouldn’t have been found until tomorrow, probably.’

  ‘And that,’ he said, ‘would have been much too late.’

  He escorted Erica to the relatives’ room, and left her with a promise that he would keep her fully informed.

  Erica finished her second bottle of water, and nipped out to find a ladies toilet before risking a coffee. She was washing her hands when her mobile rang, and she saw it was the number for the station.

  ‘Steve?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. We’ve got him.’

  ‘Evan Yeardley? You’ve got Evan Yeardley?’ She had passed his name on within a minute of seeing Beth lying on the floor of her home, with little hope of anything happening quickly.

  ‘Drunk as a fart if you’ll pardon the expression, ma’am, and covered in blood. Big carrier bag of CDs and DVDs. He was sitting on the floor of a bus stop singing a Bob Dylan song when the squad car stopped to investigate. He’d taken the sleeve out of the case to read the words, blind drunk.’

  ‘Has he said anything?’

  ‘Nothing much beyond he feels sick.’

  ‘Steve, for God’s sake don’t let him choke on his vomit. I need that fucker in front of me answering questions, and let’s pray it’s not a murder charge he’s facing.’

  Steve’s tone softened and she knew he didn’t want whoever was there to hear him. ‘Erica,’ he said, ‘you look after that lass. And don’t worry about this plank here, it’ll be dinnertime tomorrow before he’s fit to be questioned. You’ve heard nothing yet?’

  ‘She’s in surgery. I’m expecting her mum and dad to arrive anytime now, and the doctor said he would keep us informed as soon as there was anything to say. I’m staying here until I know she’s stable, then I’m going home for a couple of hours’ sleep before I tackle that cretin you’ve got in the cells.’

  ‘No worries. You take care, you hear, and I’ll check in tomorrow to see how things are going.’

  She gave a half smile. ‘You’re a good ’un, Steve. Oh, and Steve, leave that light on in his cell all night, at its brightest. Let’s have him waking up to the mother of all hangovers tomorrow, and no paracetamol available.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, and she heard his chuckle as they disconnected.

  18

  Hiding from the Halloween trick or treaters by going to the gym hadn’t helped Tanya Lacey at all. There were several others who had staggered in over the three hours she had spent there, all laughing in an embarrassed sort of way as they admitted to not liking the annual event. Four of them had left their homes in desperation after continually answering the door, and had figured half an hour getting fit was preferable to walking up and down a hallway, false smiles stuck on their faces.

  Tanya had enjoyed the planned evening but now felt tired, she was ready to go home and not looking forward to the walk. The offer of a lift, as she and another escapee stepped outside to feel rain on their faces, was gratefully accepted, and she sank into the passenger seat of the small black car.

  ‘Nice to see you again, and thanks for this. I live quite close…’ She said no more as she felt the soft touch of a hand on her right breast, followed by the sharp prick of a needle as it sank into the flesh of her neck.

  Erica arrived home shortly before four, grateful for the lack of traffic at that time in the morning. The Machins had opted to stay by their daughter’s side in HDU, saying they would find a local bed and breakfast place later. Beth’s mum had looked relieved when Erica told her they had Evan Yeardley in custody; her father looked angry, and Erica suspected he had hoped he would get to Evan before the police did.

  Frannie had been asleep, but stirred as she felt Erica slide in beside her.

  ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘No. She’s out of surgery, but everybody’s being non-committal. Wait and see seems to be the general consensus. Her parents are with her in HDU, and they’re going to ring if there’s any change. I spoke to the doctor on the way out, and he more or less shook his head. He actually said keep every finger crossed if you don’t believe in prayer. Hold me, Frannie, it’s been a shit night.’

  ‘Has he said anything?’

  ‘Evan? He’s too drunk to be coherent, according to Steve.’

  Frannie pulled her close, and stroked her hair. ‘Go to sleep, sweetheart, try for a couple of hours at least. What time do you need to get up?’

  ‘If I forfeit a shower and breakfast, I can sleep till eight.’

  ‘Then do that.’

  Steve rang her at seven. ‘Some of the shelf-stacking staff at Waitrose can see a body propped up where the culvert starts. I’m sending a car for you, ma’am,’ he said. ‘I imagine you’ve had little sleep. I’ve sent a team already, they’ll be waiting for you when you get there. Any news on DS Machin?’

  ‘She’s out of surgery,’ Erica said, struggling to get herself out from under the duvet. Her feet seemed to be tied together. ‘I’ll be ready in ten minutes, Steve. I take it it’s a girl’s body.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. Exactly like the others.’

  Forensics were installing a tent when she arrived. She thanked her driver and said she would grab a lift to the station later, but he was adamant he had to wait for her.

  ‘I’m here to help, ma’am, and make sure you’re ferried about today. We’re all really sorry to hear about DS Machin, and you’ve apparently been with her most of the night. Best accept today is about making you safe, and I’m your designated driver until I drop you off at home.’

  She wanted to cry. Instead, she thanked him, and clambered down towards the river.

  Ivor was in the tent and she popped her head inside.

  ‘Morning.’

  He looked up. ‘Morning, Erica. And so we have another one. The River Porter seems to be the gift that keeps on giving, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Everything’s the same?’ She felt a rage building inside her.

  ‘It is.’ He gently lifted the girl’s breast, turning her arm slightly at the same time. ‘This is the needle mark at the base of the neck and we’ll do a full tox screen but I think we both know it will show Propofol. No clothing anywhere. As you can see, she’s posed so that her genitalia and breasts are on show, and once again she’s pretty with a good figure. Wants approbation, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Or she does.’

  ‘You think?’

  Tiredly, Erica swept a hand across her brow, pushing back her hair. ‘God knows, Ivor. We’re getting nothing. This bloody rain keeps potential witnesses indoors, and washes away any forensics, as you know. The river seems to be the common theme but it’s about six miles long and I simply don’t have enough personnel to have them standing here on the banks twenty-four hours a day for the foreseeable future. And yet again we’ve no idea who she is, why she knew the person who gave her a lift – and that bit’s guesswork at the moment but it’s been a common theme with the others – and we’re probably going to have to wait until somebody rings in with a missing person query. I’m tired, I think we’re losing Beth, and I’ve got to go and face the bastard who hit her.’

  Erica burst out crying, and Ivor
quickly stood. ‘Hey, come on.’ He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

  She took in some deep breaths as she battled to control her emotions. The cameraman slipped out of the tent to give them privacy, and Ivor held her until she brought herself back to a kind of normality.

  Ivor quickly changed his coverall and shoe protectors, then headed back into the tent. He’d never seen Erica anything less than the cool professional lady that she was, and he felt… startled… by the revelation. So she was human after all, he mused, and bent over the body. The ice lady had melted quite spectacularly.

  Erica sent Flick and Sam around the Waitrose staff, interviewing them all, and concentrating on the three who had initially spotted the body. None of them had anything at all to add to the investigation. They were going off shift when it had been spotted, yes they had been on duty all night, and no, they had seen nothing untoward on the banks of the now-infamous river. Contact information was taken and they were finally allowed to finish their shift.

  Erica was driven back to the station and much as she tried to dismiss her driver he was certain he was going nowhere, he told her. Steve said he was hers for the day, and he couldn’t disobey Steve.

  She actually shook her head in wonderment. He could disobey the order of a DI when she said he could stand down, but he couldn’t disobey the order of Sergeant Steve. In the end she gave in, and sent him off to get them a sandwich lunch that had to include two of the biggest and best coffees Starbucks could provide.

  Waiting for her was the report from Flick that she had requested concerning the weather back in twenty-fourteen. She wasn’t sure why it was relevant, but felt it was some knowledge she could acquire. On every single night the four girls had died, it had been heavy rain.