Hindsight (9781921997211)

by Casey, Melanie

  The blow to my head had stunned me and I felt like I was watching everything down a tunnel. The edges of the picture started to go fuzzy and black. A single thought flashed through my mind — Oh God he’s really taking her eyes while she’s still alive — and then mercifully, I passed out.

  CHAPTER

  30

  Ed pulled up in front of the funeral home and sat in the car, looking at the building. He didn’t like what he saw; bars on every window. The front door had multiple locks on it and the only other way in was through a roller garage door that was securely fastened. High fencing blocked access down the other side of the building. The only option was to go barging through the front door. He would try knocking but if no one answered, Ed was going to have to try to kick it down. The problem was if he kicked in the door his element of surprise would be blown. If the killer was inside and he had Cass … He checked his phone. The signal was back. He rang Phil. She answered on the first ring.

  ‘What the fuck, Ed? I’ve been trying to call you. We’re nearly there.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘Ten minutes.’

  ‘Too long. It might be too late. I’m going in.’

  ‘Don’t do it, man! Just wait!’

  He hung up and turned off his phone again. Sucking in a deep breath he felt under his jacket for his gun, touching it for reassurance. He could end up getting both of them killed but he would never forgive himself if she died while he was waiting. He got out of the car. Closing the door softly, he looked at the front of the building again. There was no sign of any cameras. He took the direct approach and walked straight up to the front door trying to look casual. If the killer was watching he could always hope that he didn’t recognise him as a police officer and think he was a customer.

  He was about to press the bell when he heard it, the unmistakable sound of a woman screaming. Adrenaline kicked in and he threw himself against the door, kicking it savagely. His first kick rattled the door in its frame but it was solid timber and the locks were strong. He kicked again and again, grunting with the effort. The timber around the locks started to splinter and after a few more kicks the door flew open, banging into the wall. He pulled his gun and rushed inside, looking around for any movement and straining to hear anything that might tell him where she was. Silence greeted him and that frightened him more than the screams.

  He headed deeper into the building, pausing at each doorway to throw it open and quickly look inside. He found a viewing room, an office and the room where the bodies were prepared and stored. He thought about checking each of the stainless steel drawers that lined the walls but decided the chances of Cass being alive and in one of those were remote.

  He kept going, finding himself in a small kitchen at the back of the building. To the left was a short hallway that led to stairs to an upper level. He stopped to listen again. He thought he heard a faint scraping sound from behind one of the doors off the kitchen. He went his way towards it, trying to calm his breathing and make as little noise as he possibly could. He grabbed the handle and turned it slowly, easing the door open. He found a set of stairs that disappeared into a basement. Cautiously, his heart hammering in his chest, he stepped onto the landing and peered into the room below.

  The sight that greeted him made him stop in shock. The first thing he saw was the body of a young woman strapped to a surgical steel table. One of her eyes was missing and blood was running down her face. With a lurch that was part relief, part despair, he realised that it wasn’t Cass but another girl.

  The next thing he saw was Cass. She was strapped to a chair and her head was slumped forwards. He could see bruising on one side of her face and blood in her hair. Her hands were tied behind her and there was more blood oozing from underneath the rope. He couldn’t tell if she was alive or not. Fury swept over him. Where was the son-of-a-bitch who had done this?

  He scanned the rest of the room and that was when he saw the final atrocity, the one that took his breath away. There, seated in the back corner of the room, partly in the shadows, was the corpse of a woman. Long blonde hair fell around what used to be a face but was now barely more than a skull with petrified flesh stretched over it. He gagged violently. Susan? Oh God, it’s Susan!

  He ran down the stairs and towards the corpse. He had to see for himself. Was it her? What had he done to her? He was halfway across the basement when a blow to his head sent him reeling. Half turning as he stumbled, he finally saw the man who had killed Susan, the man who had killed Janet Hodgson and pushed Old Mick in front of a truck. Rage took over and he raised his gun, his only thought was that this thing didn’t deserve to live.

  The killer struck him again, landing a blow on his arm with what looked like a length of steel pipe. He heard the bone crack and his gun went flying out of his hand. Yelling in pain and anger, Ed made a grab for him.

  ‘You piece of shit, you killed my wife and now you have her sitting there like some freak show exhibit? I’m going to kill you!’ Ed swung at him again but the punch missed its target and glanced off the man’s shoulder.

  The bastard was too quick. He dodged out of reach and rained more blows on Ed’s head and shoulders. Dazed, Ed sank to his knees. The killer lashed at him with his other hand and Ed felt a sharp pain as a blade sliced into his neck. Gasping, he grabbed at the wound and felt blood running through his fingers.

  The killer bent over him and sneered into his face. ‘Wife? She’s not your wife. That’s Virginia, my wife. Your wife was a piece of rubbish. I took her eyes and threw her body into the furnace. She was nothing.’

  The last thought Ed had before the killer finally knocked him out was that he’d failed again; failed Susan, failed Cass and the woman on the table, and failed himself. The eyeless face of the corpse swam in front of his eyes and then receded into darkness.

  He didn’t know how long he was out of it but the next thing he knew he was lying on the floor struggling to open his eyes and focus. His vision was blurry. His head was splitting and he couldn’t move. He felt so weak. He tried to lift his arm but it felt like someone had pumped lead into his veins. He concentrated on trying to clear his vision. If he could see where the killer was maybe he could bide his time and recover some strength.

  He blinked a few times then looked around the room again. Images swam and then slowly came into focus. The killer was standing over at the table, bending over the woman who was lying on it, only it wasn’t the same woman. With a jolt he realised it was now Cass lying on the table. Was he dreaming this? No, the pain was real. The bastard really did have Cass on the table. What was he doing to her? He tried to move again but he seemed to have lost all control over his limbs.

  With despair, he watched as the killer worked on Cass. He’d removed the ropes and gag and he was tethering her to the table with leather straps. When he was finished he turned away and walked over to a cabinet against the wall. As the killer turned away, Ed thought he saw Cass move slightly. Was she still alive? Please God. If they could hang on, Phil would turn up with help.

  Then it happened. Cass went stiff and arched her back. Tipping her head back she let out a scream that turned his bowels to water. The killer whipped around. His eyes were wide with shock. She screamed again, a long guttural sound like nothing Ed had ever heard.

  ‘Stop that!’ the killer yelled. ‘Stop it right now!’

  Cass ignored him — or more likely didn’t hear him — because the screams just kept coming, each one as painful as the last. The killer stood there, stunned to immobility for a few more seconds before striding over to her and grabbing her shoulders. The instant he touched her, he froze. His entire body went rigid and Ed, who had a clear view of his face, watched as his expression turned from anger to a mask of pure terror. His eyes bulged and strange gargling sounds came out of his mouth, which was stretched wide in a silent imitation of Cass.

  She was still screaming but with each scream her voic
e got weaker and weaker. Listening to her and not being able to help was like nothing Ed had ever experienced before. It destroyed what was left of his self-control and tears started to run down his face. He watched the macabre display before him, wondering if it would ever end. Finally Cass went silent and the killer let go of her. He sank to his knees and curled into a ball, rocking backwards and forwards and making strange gasping noises. Ed realised he was crying before oblivion swept over him again.

  CHAPTER

  31

  When I woke up it was from what felt like an endless dream. In the first part of the dream I’d been running through thick fog. I was terrified of something and desperate to find my way to safety, but every time I thought I was about to escape, the mist stretched out its fingers and wrapped itself around me again and so I had to keep running. That dream was replaced by another where I kept waking up and doing all the things I do in the morning only to find that I was only dreaming being awake.

  When I finally opened my eyes for real it wasn’t to get up and go through my morning routine. I blinked a few times, confused and dazzled by the stark whiteness that assaulted my eyes. I couldn’t work out where I was. Why wasn’t I at home? I turned my head and realised I was hooked up to tubes and a drip. The drip made me panicky for some reason and I tried to reach over and pull it out of my arm.

  ‘Cass, Cass, darling, shhh, it’s all right. It’s Mum. You’re fine. You’re in hospital.’

  I tried to push the oxygen mask away from my face but I couldn’t seem to raise my arm to do it. I was so tired. Mum realised what I wanted and gently eased the mask down so I could talk.

  ‘What happened? Why am I here?’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. You were injured, you’re going to be fine though. You just need to rest.’

  I knew there was something I needed to remember but it kept slipping out of my grasp. The effort was too much. I fell asleep again, only this time the dreams were of faces with no eyes.

  I woke up sweating with my heart pounding. I looked around the room. Gran was sitting by my bed. She was holding my hand and the lines on her face told the story: she’d been sitting there channelling all her energy into me. The oxygen mask was gone but the drip was still there.

  ‘What’s wrong with me, Gran?’ I asked.

  She patted my hand gently and answered my question with one of her own.

  ‘What’s the last thing you remember?’

  My brain felt fuzzy and reluctant. ‘I remember going for a walk with you and Mum and then we had a really good dinner.’

  ‘Yes, what happened after that?’

  ‘I don’t remember.’

  ‘Try, sweetheart.’

  ‘Can’t you tell me?’

  ‘The doctor’s asked us not to. He thinks it’s better if you remember by yourself.’

  For some reason that upset me, and I started to cry. Gran sat there and cried with me. I knew something terrible had happened and I was scared of what it would be. I fell asleep again after a few minutes and the next time I woke I was by myself. I felt stronger and some of the fog had gone. I looked around. The room was quiet. It looked out over a courtyard with a few plants and some benches. It was daytime. Pale sunlight streamed in through the window. I lay there, wondering how long I’d been in hospital and what hospital I was in. I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Gran. I remembered dinner. What happened the next day?

  An image of a newspaper flashed through my mind. The words ‘serial killer’ leapt off the page. I sat up. Memories started to flood into my mind. I remembered a phone call from Ed then another phone call later in the day. Oh God! Then there was the car, struggling with him, the basement, Ginny and the girl. Oh my God, that poor girl! What had happened to her? Finally there was the moment I woke up on the table. I started to sob.

  He’d put me on the table where he’d killed all the other women; there were three of them. Their death experiences hadn’t hit me one at a time, they’d all come at once, a chorus of suffering. The pain and anguish had been unbearable. I remembered screaming in agony and fear.

  My breathing was coming in short gasps and panic started to overwhelm me. I couldn’t breathe. I reached over and pushed the call button hooked over my bed. A nurse poked her head in a minute later. By then my breathing was so tortured I was starting to see black spots in front of my eyes. The nurse rushed in and pushed an alarm button. She put a mask over my face. A doctor appeared and quickly summed up the situation. I was given an injection and within seconds I slipped into a deep, sedated sleep.

  When I woke up again there was no blissful fog, no respite before awareness kicked in. This time I remembered everything; every horrible detail played out in my memory from the time I got into his car to the time I passed out watching him leaning over the girl, and then there were the visions. With fresh horror, the realisation swept over me that one of them was Ed’s wife. I had experienced Susan’s death.

  All three women had terrible deaths. The monster had taken their eyes while they were alive and aware of what was going on, but paralysed from whatever drug he’d given them. The pain was excruciating and the horror of not being able to move was only made worse once they lost their sight. I felt their desperate fear at not knowing what he was going to do to them next. He killed them with a lethal injection soon after he’d taken their eyes but those few minutes of fear, pain and uncertainty had been the worst agony I’d ever experienced.

  I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn’t realise Mum was sitting next to my bed. She had her nose in a magazine and didn’t realise I was awake until I started to cry again. She jumped up and wrapped her arms around me.

  ‘It’s OK, Cass, let it out.’

  ‘It was terrible, Mum. I felt him take their eyes. I felt their fear.’

  She sat there holding me and I told her everything in one long rush, the words tumbling out. I lost track of how long I talked but finally I was spent. The words and the tears stopped and I just sat there, resting my head on her shoulder like a small child. I fell asleep like that and didn’t wake up again until light was flooding through my window.

  I felt a bit better; still exhausted, still emotionally wrung out and immeasurably sad about what had happened but this time I had questions and I wanted them answered. I was alone again and so I rang the buzzer, impatient. A nurse came in.

  ‘You look much better. Are you ready to have your drip out and have some real food?’ she asked brightly.

  ‘I’m not really hungry. What I want is to speak to Detective Dyson. I want to know what happened to the girl and the killer. I need the number of the Fairfield Police Station.’

  The smile dropped from her face. ‘Detective Dyson?’ She licked her lips nervously. ‘I’ll see if I can find someone to talk to you.’

  Her reaction frightened me. Why couldn’t I speak to him? How had I got away from the killer? Had Ed been involved? Was there something wrong with him? Was he dead? The thought made me feel sick.

  I had to find out. I had to get to a phone. There wasn’t one in my room. I pushed my legs over the side of the bed and realised the drip was in the way. Impatiently I yanked it out of my arm. Blood started to ooze out of the wound. I snatched a tissue from the box next to my bed and held it hard over the spot. I stood up and immediately sank back onto the bed again. My legs wouldn’t support me.

  I was sitting there trying to work out how to get to a phone when a man who was obviously a doctor walked into the room with the nurse in tow. He exuded an air of quiet calm.

  ‘Hello, Miss Lehman, I’m Doctor Sanderson. What are you doing out of bed? Nurse, please check Miss Lehman’s arm. Now, how about you tell me what it is you want to know and I’ll do my best to answer your questions?’

  ‘I want to speak to Detective Ed Dyson of the Fairfield Police Station.’

  ‘Detective Dyson can’t speak to you. He’s currently
in our High Dependency Unit. He’s in a serious condition but we expect him to make a full recovery with time.’

  The sick feeling in my stomach eased slightly. He wasn’t dead. He was in bad shape though. ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘He was brought in with you. He had been attacked and sustained some very serious injuries.’

  ‘With me? How? What injuries?’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you any more as you’re not a member of his family but if he continues to recover well you should be able to see him in a day or two.’

  His tone told me that there was no point arguing. The nurse patched me up and tucked me back into bed. The doctor checked me over and prescribed some mild sleeping tablets if I needed them.

  ‘You should be able to go home in a day or two, Miss Lehman.’ He smiled at me, patted my hand and glided out of the room.

  I sat there stewing. I needed to know what had happened to Ed. He must have come to find me. He must have saved me. I suddenly realised I’d forgotten to ask about the girl. I thought about ringing the bell again but decided I’d be better off waiting for Mum or Gran to come back. They could probably tell me what was going on. Two hours dragged by, punctuated only by the arrival of some insipid soup with jelly and ice cream on the side.

  I picked at the jelly, trying not to let the demons crowd into my head. Finally Gran stuck her head around the door.

  ‘Gran, what happened to Ed and the other girl? I need to know.’

  She filled in some of the blanks. She told me Ed came charging in and had been attacked by the killer. He’d lost a lot of blood. He had a fractured skull, broken ribs and a gash to the neck.

  As for Lucy, she was alive but that was about as good as the news got. I had to drag the rest of it out of Gran but she caved in eventually. The killer had taken her eyes but for some reason he didn’t kill her straight away. The chaos with me and Ed probably upset his routine. I couldn’t help wondering if she would have been better off dead. According to what Gran could find out, she was deeply traumatised and was being treated in the psychiatric ward of the hospital. She would recover physically but whether or not she could cope mentally was anyone’s guess.