Night is Watching

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Night is Watching Page 26

by Lucy Cameron


  She peeks cautiously into the living room. The sofa is empty. The blanket she placed over Rhys lies crumpled on the floor. Her heartbeat quietens as she realises Rhys is not in the house. Has he gone into work already? When did Wallace call?

  She heads to the kitchen. What time is it? Rhys could be with the boss right now. Yes, that boss, the one she grassed him up to. What else was she supposed to do?

  The clock in the kitchen says it’s well after eight. Anna reaches for her mobile. The battery is flat. Using the house phone, she calls Elsie who is more than happy for the children to stay. The pleasure in her voice grates. The coffee machine bubbles to life. The previous night’s events dance in Anna’s head.

  Dan answered her call within minutes and arrived like Batman out of the night. She apologised until he said he’d leave if she didn’t stop. He helped her move Rhys to the sofa without judgment. She told him what Rhys had said.

  Dan made some quiet phone calls, muttered out of earshot. She hadn’t told him the children were with Elsie.

  He said he’d go and take a look around, something about procedure. She watched him through the living room window. Behind her Rhys twitched on the sofa. She hoped he wasn’t allergic to what she’d given him. His mother wasn’t, it was her prescription. Dan crossed to Kier’s house. The door opened. He stepped inside. He was gone a long time. Anna was on her second coffee by the time the three soft taps on the door signalled he was back.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said.

  ‘Nothing?’

  ‘Nope. No blood, no corpses, no sign of a struggle of any kind. I even knocked on his door, Kier Finnegan, wasn’t too pleased to see me truth be told.’ Anna sat a coffee on the table. ‘He said our lot have already been round disturbing him first thing, for an… erm… ’ He looked shifty. ‘For an alibi for another case.’

  ‘It’s okay, he’s told me.’ Anna ran her fingers through her hair.

  ‘Kier was even less pleased when I asked him if he’d been sneaking around the street stabbing police officers.’

  ‘You didn’t?’ They both smiled.

  ‘No. Not in so many words, but Kier said he’d been in all evening. That old guy was there, backed him up.’ Dan shrugged, sipped his coffee.

  ‘Arthur?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s the one.’ Dan looked up at her, eyes lingering a fraction too long. ‘It’s a bit of an odd set up over there, isn’t it?’ He waved in the direction of Kier’s house.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, an older man living with a younger one. Said he was his lodger, if you’ll believe that?’

  ‘Well as my mother always says, there’s nowt so queer as folk.’ They laughed as she realised what she’d said.

  ‘From what I hear, Andrews has been moved to a hospital down south to be near his sister,’ said Dan, ‘which is fine. Will be a while before we can get to him, you know, carry out a full investigation into what he did. It’ll probably do him good, to be with his family.’ Anna nodded. She had no idea what Dan was talking about, didn’t care.

  They talked for hours, about nothing and everything. Dan made her smile and laugh with only a tinge of guilt.

  Dan left in the small hours. He didn’t want to go but said he must, had work, would have an extra report to write up now. She apologised again for phoning. He smiled, said it didn’t matter. He asked if she’d like to meet him for dinner that evening? If she thought she could get away. He said it would do her good. She said yes even though she knew she shouldn’t. It wouldn’t mean anything, they’re just old friends meeting for some food, and a laugh. God, how she needed a laugh. Plus everything would be sorted by tomorrow, Superintendent Wallace promised.

  ‘Excellent.’ He hugged her goodbye, kissed her on the forehead.

  Anna watched him all the way up the street while her drugged husband lay on the sofa behind her.

  63.

  ‘A gin and tonic? Really, Rhys I’m disappointed. I thought you would have learnt by now.’ Kier’s voice is smooth. He slips into the seat opposite Rhys. Rhys smiles. The knife is comforting in his pocket. ‘Firstly, I feel I should say I’m sorry for the other night, on reflection it was rather crude.’ Kier clinks the ice cubes around in his glass. ‘That does not however excuse the fact that I’m still waiting for you to say thank you.’ He looks at Rhys. He’ll be waiting until Hell freezes over.

  Bad analogy.

  Kier shrugs. ‘A little petty all things considered.’ Rhys studies Kier in the dim light. His skin as smooth as marble, not a blemish or line, and so pale. How does no one else see this? How can Anna not see this? How could his colleagues not see this?

  ‘People only see what they want to see. Talking of which, that friend of yours was sniffing around your wife again last night. I use the term friend in its loosest sense.’ What friend? ‘Although in fairness I think she called him.’ Kier smiles. ‘Go on, it’s killing you, ask me and I’ll tell you more.’ The hairs rise on the back of Rhys’s neck.

  ‘I was in all night. No one called.’

  ‘Oh Rhys, please. She drugged you. Now why would she do that?’ There’s no answer to that question Rhys likes. Kier leans forward.

  ‘She drugged you because she doesn’t believe you, because she thinks you’re crazy, because she wants you out of the way. Out of the way so she can play cops and robbers with that new boy, nice teeth but not much else going for him.’

  Kier’s lying. Anna wouldn’t do that… not again. Rhys clenches his teeth. Kier’s messing with his head.

  ‘Dan Davies, that’s his name.’ Fuck. What the fuck? Why would Davies be at his house? Acid bites in the base of Rhys’s stomach. Rhys stares hard at Kier. Only Kier’s eyes smile.

  He’s lying. Nice try. Rhys shifts in his seat.

  ‘Dan,’ Kier rolls the word around his mouth, ‘was at your house until god knows when this morning, and there you were, fast asleep. Who knows what they were getting up to right under your nose?’ Kier takes a sip of his drink. Breathe deeply, let it wash over you.

  ‘Maybe Anna would like my lifestyle, what I have to offer, seems like she would be up for any offer, other than one from you.’

  In his mind, Rhys lunges across the table, stabs Kier in the heart. Stabs him in his smug face over and over again. Instead he looks away. The young boy serving behind the bar catches his eye, no knife through his neck today.

  ‘There,’ Rhys bellows across the room, ‘you see him now?’ Rhys points at Kier. The boy behind the bar looks away, embarrassed. He should be. Kier winces, shakes his head. He draws breath but Rhys cuts him off.

  ‘Why are you setting me up?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ Kier has the front to look bemused.

  ‘Don’t play all innocent. My identification at the murder scene?’

  ‘I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Is he lying again? His face is so smooth. ‘Someone’s setting you up for murder? Are you sure, sure you weren’t out having a little practice?’ He winks.

  ‘You disgust me.’

  ‘You can be so cruel. No wonder I felt I couldn’t give you an alibi…’

  ‘Lying to the police is a criminal offence.’

  ‘… Couldn’t say I was with you when bad things were happening, couldn’t give a nice little alibi to that nice young policewoman when she called.’ Rhys stares at him, hard. ‘I could change my mind if it would make you happy?’ Rhys waits. ‘I could walk over there and tell them I was confused, that you were with me?’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No. Where would be the fun in that? It really doesn’t matter anyway.’ Kier looks at his watch. ‘Your time is almost up.’

  Outside something bangs.

  ‘Remember, remember, the fifth of November, well as good as,’ says Kier. ‘You certainly will.’ He pushes away his glass. ‘Now I know I said I’d give you a week but what’s a couple of days between friends? I’m bored with this so I will have to press you for an answer.’ Kier looks at Rhys. Rhys leans across the table.


  ‘There’s no way on God’s green earth that I will ever say yes to what you ask.’ Kier looks perplexed, crosses his arms.

  ‘How did I know you were going to say that? I must say I’m disappointed. I credited you with more intelligence.’ He sighs. ‘I’m going to have to do what I hate to have to do, resort to violence.’ He drops his shoulders. ‘Just so we’re clear, everything that happens from this moment forward, everything, is entirely your fault.’

  The air around them shifts. Rhys is very cold. The knife in his pocket insignificant, like the little boy who tries to stand up to the school bully and gets his head kicked in. Real life is not like the movies.

  ‘All you had to do was ask me and I would have taken you away from all this. Prevented what is now going to have to happen. All you ever had to do was ask.’ Kier shakes his head, almost sad, if Rhys was still stupid enough to believe him capable of sorrow. ‘Now we’re going to have to play a game. It won’t take long and I have to admit I’ve never lost, which doesn’t bode well for you.’ Kier rises. ‘It’s quite simple. Your refusal has deeply offended me, so I am going to slaughter your family. This will help change your mind and make me happy.’ Rhys stares up at him. ‘You can try and save them,’ Kier leans in close, ‘that’s the game bit by the way. Usually when they, you, see your family in, how shall I put it, mild discomfort, you change your mind. Not only will you ask but also you will beg me to take you and not hurt them. That’s the bit I like the most. The bit that makes me really happy.’

  Rhys’s heart pounds.

  ‘Now, I like you, Rhys. It appears you’ve had a hard week so I will give you a clue. I won’t start with your wife. Sound fair? The disadvantage is you have no idea where your children are, but I do. Good luck.’

  And he is gone. Simple as that.

  64.

  Elsie sits and stares straight ahead. Sitting next to her on the small, worn sofa, Arthur takes her hand. Elsie turns and looks at him. Usually when she’s with Arthur she giggles. Today she can’t even smile.

  Arthur had come round the day after he, they, moved in. He takes her breath away. He visits often. Makes her giggle until tears of joy run down her cheeks. But not today.

  The children are upstairs, unable to hide their distress as to why Mummy asked if they could stay another night. Elsie says it’s so Daddy can rest.

  She knows Rhys isn’t home.

  She has no idea where he is.

  Elsie saw the man Rhys works with pick Anna up. He wasn’t in a police car. If something bad had happened they would’ve sent a police car.

  Arthur was hesitant to stay, once he knew the children were here. He loitered on the doorstep, looked back towards his house. Elsie persuaded him in with the tale of cake Harry and she spent the afternoon making. They sit now, the two of them. The electric fire is high. Empty cake plates and teacups sit on the table in front of them. They are warmed by the image of Harry’s proud face. Elsie will drift off soon. Upstairs the children play. She starts to relax…

  A thump on the front door wakes her instantly. A thump held in her memories for fifty years. Her heart pounds. Arthur’s face shows only fear as he rises. His hand on the latch, he turns to her.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He need say no more.

  Kier stands on the step. His face furrows with rage.

  ‘We really don’t have time for this, Arthur,’ he says. Elsie rises, curses her lack of speed. Kier turns his attention to her, studies her as a scientist would an experiment. With curiosity, he waits for her to reach Arthur’s side.

  ‘You’re not welcome here.’ Her hand reaches for Arthur’s arm. Does he step deliberately out of reach? ‘You are not welcome in my home. I will not invite you in.’

  ‘Ooops,’ says Kier. He steps over the threshold. ‘Too late.’

  His shadow cast by the fire fills the whole room. The exact same shadow as was cast all those years ago.

  ‘Not the exact same shadow surely. That would be boring.’ Kier’s distain is clear as he inspects the room. ‘This…’ He waggles a finger at Arthur and Elsie. ‘… is all very touching but it’s over.’ He extends a hand to Arthur. ‘We need to leave. We have urgent business to attend to.’ He leans in close. ‘As the great detective himself would say, “the game’s afoot”.’ The colour drains from Arthur’s face. His skin ages, wrinkles before Elsie’s eyes. Kier turns to her. ‘This bit always makes him sad. He’s not a massive fan of the game.’ Elsie has no idea what he’s talking about. She needs him out of her home. Away from all of them. It’s him, she’s never been more sure. She knows it’s him. Her palms sweat.

  ‘I know who you are.’ Is she shouting? ‘I know what you are,’ she repeats, shuffling to the coffee table. Arthur hasn’t moved a muscle since Kier entered the room. He stares straight ahead, unblinking. Elsie lifts the newspaper. Where the hell is it? The photograph Rhys showed her? ‘I have it here, the proof. I’ll find it, take it to the police. They’ll believe me.’

  ‘Oh please.’ Kier holds up his hand. ‘This is too pathetic to watch. The police will believe what?’ He bends down. They are face to face. ‘Oh look, detective. This is a picture from nineteen blah blah blah that shows a nasty Nosferatu? Oh no wait, hang on, I can’t even find it.’ He laughs. The power blows the hair back off her face. ‘They won’t, of course, just think you are some mad, old bitch,’ emphasis heavy on the last word, ‘there to defend your crazy neighbour because you think of him like the son you were never able to produce?’ It’s as if he’s physically slapped her. His eyes dance. ‘They will think you’re as crazy as they think he is, and they won’t be far wrong now, will they?’ He straightens up, adjusts his cuff. ‘What is it with you and the type of men you attract?’ He glances over his shoulder at Arthur. ‘No offence. Now sit down.’ He taps Elsie on the shoulder. She falls. Winded. Gasps on the sofa. Arthur comes to life as Kier touches her.

  ‘No,’ says Arthur. He turns towards them. ‘No.’ Kier’s face contorts as he ponders for a moment. Arthur reaches out towards him.

  Kier’s face explodes with rage. He turns and slams his fist into the old man’s chest. The force sends Arthur sprawling back across the room. He hits the small bookcase. Books crash down and scatter around him. The sound of the wind being knocked from him is loud. He’s too still. Elsie can’t move. Can’t get up to him to help.

  ‘He struggles to know his place, what with all these twenty-first century new man ideals kicking about.’ Kier smiles. ‘But then we all knew this… ’ His finger flicks again from Elsie to Arthur. ‘…would never end well.’ He sits down next to her on the sofa. They both look at the motionless body of Arthur. ‘He’ll be fine.’ Kier twists to look at her. ‘Now, give me the children.’

  ‘They aren’t here.’ Somehow Elsie manages to keep the tremble from her voice.

  ‘Oh please.’ He sighs. ‘Okay, I’ll play along. Where are they?’ He’s mocking her – they both know it. Where is Rhys? Where is Anna? Where is anyone? How can she get to the phone? How can she get him out of the house, buy some time? Thought upon thought compound, her brain will explode. She reaches for a thread and pulls.

  ‘They’re with friends. You know Anna. She doesn’t like me, never has. She doesn’t trust me with them.’

  ‘Let’s suppose I believe you, which I don’t, how do I persuade you to tell me where they are?’

  Something bumps upstairs.

  Air is sucked from the room.

  A smile slowly spreads across Kier’s face. ‘See,’ he says, ‘that’s the trouble with kids these days, they struggle so much to be quiet. They really should learn it’s best to be seen and not heard.’

  ‘You leave them be,’ Elsie reaches out, takes hold of his sleeve. She can’t, won’t let him near the children. Anything but the children. Anything. Kier snarls.

  ‘What’s it worth?’ He’s playing with her the way a cat plays with a mouse; she knows it but doesn’t care, anything but the children. He crushes her without even moving.

  In
her head, she urges the children to run. To climb out of the window and scurry into the night, find safety. She can’t move, not one muscle. She’s paralysed but fully aware. Kier’s shadow dances around the room.

  ‘The problem with you, Elsie…’ His words are far away. ‘… Is that you’ve always been so much more trouble than you’re actually worth.’ His shadow casts huge shapes all over the walls.

  Time stands still.

  It is the day Fredrick disappeared. There has been nothing in between. Nothing since his final goodbye. Kier’s shadow looms over her, then comes down close, wraps her in its arms. Elsie feels his lips against her thin skin. She looks over his shoulder. Through the shadows, she sees Arthur. He anchors her in the here and now. Anchors her in all the wonderful, yet untimely, insignificant things she’s done as Kier let her dance in the sunlight between his shadows.

  She wills Arthur to wake up, help the children. He does not move.

  There is no pain, which is strange. A fuzzy black circle starts at the edge of her vision and slowly pulls inwards, turns everything dark. There’s the sensation of an ice-cold hand on the side of her face. No pain. No nothing.

  Then Arthur’s eyes open. In the last moment, they open and lock with hers. It is beautiful and perfect and final.

  As everything turns black, she swears she hears him say, “I love you”.

  65.

  Where the hell is Anna? Rhys rings her phone all the way home. She doesn’t pick up. Why?

  What did Kier mean, he won’t start with Anna? They’ll all be together, Anna and the children. Anna will fight. Rhys is sure of that. He wonders when the reality will hit her, when she’ll realise he was right all along. He wishes he felt smug, but he doesn’t he feels angry. And afraid.

  Why hadn’t he stabbed Kier there and then, while he had the chance? Why hadn’t he done that? He hits his forehead with his palm. Kier is right, if anything happens to the kids he’ll blame himself. Blame himself for not pushing the steel blade through flesh.

  Rhys stops outside his front door. The house is dark and silent. The house is never dark and silent.

 

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