The Moon Is Watching

by Adam Cloake

  From all this evidence, it seemed an undeniable fact that the women and children had all been killed by the same man. And that man was undoubtedly Derek Hill.

  “But he never acknowledged knowing, or meeting, any of them,” Sean said.

  He stopped speaking for a few moments, although he clearly had more to say.

  “And the stuff you mentioned earlier, up at the gate?” Miranda whispered. “The weird stuff that the public has never heard?” Sean had the sense that she knew about this already. He was becoming less surprised by this extraordinary woman as the night progressed.

  “DNA!” he said.

  “Yes? What about it?”

  “There wasn’t any,” he said, as he gently disengaged from her. “No matter what tests they conducted on the bodies, nobody could find a single trace of DNA to link any of them to Derek Hill. As far as anyone was concerned, he had never come in contact with a single one of them, and certainly not within the last few minutes of their lives. In fact, the only piece of Hill’s DNA they found on Grace was in her mouth.”

  “The blood from where she bit him.”

  “Yes. The lack of evidence was odd in itself, since it had been a full-on attack. They should have found much more.”

  “And that’s why he was only charged with that one crime, the attempted rape of Grace Lynne,” she said thoughtfully, “Even though the speculation was that he must have killed all those others.”

  “That’s right,” he told her. “The coroner said that she had never seen anything like it in her life. She said it looked as if those women had been killed by someone who had no DNA at all.”

  “Which is impossible, of course.” There was a devious tone in her voice.

  “Of course.”

  She gave him another of her half-smiles. “It’s a pity they never checked the ashes in his dustbin.”

  When she said this, Sean felt a fresh bloodbeat in his head. He looked at Miranda’s moonlit face, and thought again of how her expression seemed to hold so many secrets. He knew that most of these would never be revealed to him, no matter how long he knew her. But there were some secrets, like this one, that she would freely offer up. The knowledge inside this woman could change his life forever.

  He had never felt so excited.

  “I’ll tell you what you want to know,” she said. “But not here.” She walked towards the entrance of the little church. Sean followed her. “I know a warmer place,” she said.

  Before leaving the graveyard, Miranda returned both padlocks to their previous states. Then, as they set off back down the hill towards the harbour, she began her own story, the counterpoint to his. “The reason they couldn't find any of Hill’s DNA in those graves was because he’d hidden it all.”

  “Hidden it? Where?”

  “Inside the flesh of some animals.”

  “Inside the… What are you talking about?”

  “He used an ancient piece of magic, Sean. It’s not easy to pull off, but he knew exactly how to do it.”

  This statement caused Sean to stop in his tracks, while Miranda continued to walk a few paces ahead. She turned around to see the incredulous expression on his face. Almost enjoying his confusion, she casually walked the few short steps back towards him.

  “Just listen to the rest of it,” she said, handing him the bottle.

  He drank off the last, long swig of wine, and Miranda returned the empty bottle to her bag. Sean felt like he was going to be needing another one soon.

  “Hill can transfer his essence out of his own body, and into another,” she continued, as they resumed walking down the hill. “That way, he can wear total anonymity. Like a cloak, really. It makes sense to assume that he was using stray cats and dogs for this, perhaps even rats.”

  “Oh, it makes sense, does it?” he mumbled.

  “The spell is quite potent, Sean. An animal would very likely die from it. I assume he would then simply cut the carcass up into pieces, and burn it. His DNA is embedded in the flesh only so, once that’s been destroyed, there’s nothing detectable in the bones.”

  They were back at the seafront. Miranda steered Sean to the right.

  “The last time I heard of this spell was in Egypt a few years ago,” she continued. “That time, though, the sorcerer was a real mischief-maker, even brasher than Hill. He didn’t just use animals. He would break into the morgue, and leave his DNA scattered among the corpses there.”

  “You are winding me up!” Sean said, conscious of how feeble his words sounded in the face of such power.

  “The reason they found DNA in Grace’s mouth was because she had drawn his blood. Her bite had cracked his skin, so his protection was diminished.”

  She allowed him to contemplate this for a moment.

  “This is real, Sean. I’ve seen this type of thing many times. It’s been an important part of my entire life. Back in the day, witches used to survive not just by selling remedies and potions to help cure ailments. Many of them lived comfortably in secret homes given to them by knights and warrior lords. The witches created spells that made the knights harder to detect on the battlefield. They would shimmer in and out of visibility, becoming indistinct to their enemies. That’s stuff you won’t find in history books.”

  “Witches?” Sean said.

  “Indeed,” she answered, “Witches! Of course, that was long before they developed modern methods of detection. Genetic traces, and all that. The spell had to be modified. For a modern audience, so to speak.”

  “I’ve never heard anything like this before,” Sean said. “How do you know all this?”

  “Because Hill got the spell from my mother.”

  This came, naturally, as a shock.

  “She told me all about him,” she continued. “She said that they were close. They started off playing around with some simple charms. She knew that she was much more powerful than he was, so he used to cajole her into experimenting with more serious stuff. He wanted to push her towards the darker magic, the most dangerous kind. She resisted him for a long time, but he was relentless. She said Hill could be very, very charming, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

  “Pardoned,” Sean replied, almost sullenly.

  “But he only showed this amenable side of himself when he needed it. The rest of the time… Well, you’ve met him, Sean. You know how terrifying it can be, just being close to him.”

  Sean nodded at this. Hill carried menace as if it were a suit of clothing.

  “Even though I was just a child, usually hiding under the kitchen table, I still remember the atmosphere he created in the room around him. Perhaps it was because I was so young that I could feel his stain more clearly than anyone else could.” She paused to contemplate these memories.

  When she continued, it was in a lower voice. “My mother lived for years after the last time she saw him, but I believe she was really Hill's first victim. He poisoned her soul, just by being in her life. He killed her slowly, from across distance and time.”

  Every word was increasing Sean’s sense of dread about Hill. He hadn’t thought this was possible.

  “I believe”, she continued, having lost much of the assurance she had displayed earlier, “that he's responsible for a lot more than we think. He has the potential to be even more dangerous than any of us can imagine.”

  They had reached the place where their journey had started, the sea-blue door of the Harbour View. Miranda stopped walking, and looked straight at him. “I don’t think he should be allowed to walk free, Sean. And I know you feel the same way.”

  There it was! She had finally said it!

  He was about to protest, to mention his duty, his sworn responsibility, perhaps even his soul. Instead, he decided to stay quiet, and wait.

  Miranda allowed the pause. Then she pointed up at the sign above them.

  “We’ve tried their restaurant,” she said. “Now let’s check out their hotel.”

  Ten minutes later, she was undressing him. The night was warmer than the even
ing had been, and he wondered if she had been responsible for this as well. As she pulled his shirt over his head, he felt confused by all the experiences of the evening. He was certainly horny. There was no doubt about that. But there was a depth to it that he hadn’t expected. He yearned for Miranda in a way that was new to him. Was he so lonely that he could fall for someone so much, and so quickly? And under such unsettling circumstances?

  Cathy had been a practical, sensible woman who had provided his life – his very being – with a solid foundation. She had brought a sense of clarity and focus with her when she entered his world. For this, Sean still loved her dearly. Now, Miranda was doing the opposite. She was upending him, opening him up as easily as she had opened the rusted locks in that churchyard.

  But there was all the other stuff as well. She had claimed to be the daughter of a witch, and was quite clearly some sort of witch herself. She had spoken about spells and charms with the same nonchalance she had earlier used while talking about food and wine. She was potentially dangerous, and she had made him do something dangerous. He had broken his code, had spoken openly about a client. And he was certain that there was a lot more danger yet to come.

  When she had removed his vest, leaving him naked from the waist up, she stood back from him. The expression on her face was more intense than he had yet seen. “Listen to me, Sean!” she said. “I know you’re torn. Despite the fact that you’ve come this far – despite still being here, now, in front of me – you’re wondering if it’s too late to turn back?”

  “Yes,” he answered, his voice almost inaudible through his dry mouth.

  “But I believe that you really want to come on this journey with me. You want to see where this is going, what the endgame is.”

  Endgame! A chess term! She was the Queen, and he was a pawn who aspired to be a Knight.

  “Yes,” he repeated, just as inaudibly.

  It was his turn to undress her. He was afraid that, if he did, he would never stop travelling this journey with her. But none of his internal warnings seemed strong enough to halt him.

  Her skin was pale all over, apart from the black, trimmed hair between her legs, and the pink circles around her pert, inviting nipples.

  He was almost embarrassed by how excited he was. It had been so long, and so much of his life had drifted past. Still, the passion he was feeling was delicious. It was an old friend returned, a visitor from the past he thought he would never meet again. Even better, he noted with satisfaction that Miranda seemed to be feeling as much joy as he was. She led him with heat and intensity; then she followed him avidly where he took her.

  At the end, they lay together, the breeze from the window cooling their bodies. He lay on his back, with Miranda’s head resting on his chest. Her fingernails played with the dark hair on his stomach.

  He couldn’t avoid asking “Was that a spell you just cast over me?”

  She laughed softly. “Did it feel like a spell?”

  No, it had felt real. And it was real. He was certain of that. She had come to him voluntarily, and their response to each other had been genuine.

  He looked towards the window; the full moon stared hypnotically back at him, as if communing with his thoughts. After a few minutes, he asked Miranda, “So…? What is it you want me to do?” His voice was tense, but he spoke with clear decision. “About Hill?”

  She had been right earlier. He was going to take this journey with her. He had to!

  All three of them would arrive at the endgame together.

  There was barely a soul about, and not a single journalist. Scheduling the release for so early in the morning had paid off better than expected.

  It was 5.30am, and the centre of Dublin was still dark. The only lights came from the subdued bulbs of the nearby street lamps.

  Sean was sitting on the bonnet of his Lexus, staring at the prison gate. He had been waiting here since before 5.00. The authorities had told him they would be releasing the prisoner from his cell at 4.15, but he had clearly chosen to take his time showering and dressing.

  Finally, the small metal door opened, and Derek Hill – tall, blonde, and worryingly strong – emerged to re-join the world. Even from outside, Sean could almost sense the relief of many of those in the prison before him. It was as if the building itself was happy to be that bit less dark. Only the most disturbed of its inmates had received any sustenance from Hill’s three-year sojourn. To the rest, and to the officers, he had been a baleful shadow moving among them.

  Hill approached the Lexus, humming as he did so. Sean had been expecting this. He recalled this incessant sound from all their earlier meetings. When he wasn’t speaking – in his own taciturn way – Hill seemed always to be humming that same tune. It was almost familiar, yet Sean knew he would never recognise it.

  “Good morning, Derek,” he said, as cheerfully as he could.

  “Mr. Stynes!” came the reply. Hill had never offered him a real greeting.

  Sean decided that he had been pleasant enough, so he simply got into the driver’s seat. Hill threw his black and gold Tripp suitcase into the back, and took his place on the passenger side.

  There was no conversation for much of the journey. They began by travelling west, then turned south when they reached Palmerstown; the GPS suggested this to be the fastest route. The sun would be up in little over half an hour, the approximate length of their journey. Hill continued to hum that same indefinable tune, stopping only to say things like “Ah, freedom!” and “Smell that free city air!”

  Sean made some comments about the arrangements that had been set up for Hill when they arrived at his home. He had already spoken before about these things, but he needed to distract himself from the terrifying task that lay ahead.

  Twenty minutes into the journey, Sean made his first deviation from the official route. As he had arranged with his accomplice, he ignored the right turn at Ballymount, and instead drove straight ahead. This finally got a reaction from Hill. “You're taking a very roundabout route, I see. Something up your sleeve, Mr. Stynes?”

  “I have to pick up a colleague along the way.” Sean told him. “She'll be assisting us for a little while.”

  “She?” Hill said the word in an even tone of voice, and yet it still sent a chill through Sean. Once again, it felt as if this man was crawling around beneath the surface of his skin. He thought again about his sisters, about his nieces, and even about Cathy.

  He glanced over at Hill’s right hand, seeing again the bite mark that Grace Lynne had left near the basal joint of his thumb. Her grip had been so fierce that the marks were pure white, almost as if the metacarpal bone was showing through the skin. The thought of the injury made Sean smile with satisfaction, feeling better than he had all morning.

  They drove through Tymon Park, then Knocklyon.

  Sean felt the anticipation mount within him. They were five minutes from the end of their journey. And not the end that Hill was expecting.

  “Are we heading for the Woods?” Hill asked. “Where all that fuss took place all those years ago?” He was obviously attempting to sound unmoved as he said this, but Sean could hear the excitement in his voice. “All those terrible killings!”

  Now that they were on the final stretch of straight road, the Dublin Mountains seemed to loom over them, topped with their green and brown panorama of fir trees. Hill had stopped humming, clearly sensing that something was not right. In the silence, Sean could hear, playing inside his head, a sort of mood music. Just like in the dramatic scene of a film, the mountains seemed to be beckoning with an orchestral score, accompanied by the rising sound of choral voices. The music was majestic and frightening, like a piece by Ennio Morricone. When he tried to stop the sound, as if lifting the stylus from a record, he found it was fixed inside his head.

  He slowed the car as they approached Tibradden Wood, gazing out the window to his left.

  After a few seconds, he saw her.

  There was a ridge, about three feet high, at the sid
e of the road. Beyond that, standing at the edge of the Woods, was Miranda. She was about fifty feet away, so he could see only the upper part of her body.

  She wore the same half-smile that had greeted him in the restaurant three days earlier. He had seen this smile many times over the weekend. They had decided to extend their stay in the hotel, spending much of their time in bed. Eventually, the previous evening, Sunday, the unwelcome time had arrived for Sean to go home to Rathfarnham. His appointment with Hill, just a few hours later, would require an early start. Miranda had driven him home around 8.00 in her Nissan Micra. As they parted outside his house, Sean knew that Miranda had an important task of her own back in the city.

  Now, even from this distance, he could practically feel her tiredness. He knew that she had spent a busy night, and would not have had any opportunity to sleep.

  “Let's get out and stretch our legs,” he suggested to his passenger. Hill had seen the woman as well. He was clearly suspicious of her, but also intrigued.

  They stepped out of the car. Sean guessed that the Micra was parked out of sight around the corner up ahead. He had never before thought of it as a witch’s car.

  He began to climb the three feet up onto the slippery ridge. After some hesitation, Hill followed him.

  The sun was just beginning to make its appearance, so the light was unclear around Miranda. Nevertheless, Sean could see that she was dressed in various shades of green, matching the foliage around her. He could even make out the same colour in the frame of her glasses, very different from the purple of the weekend.

  She looked intently at Hill, the same way he was looking at her. He could tell that she was an enemy, but was uncertain what kind. This just served to increase his fascination with her. Noting how their gazes were locked, Sean felt a strange tinge of jealousy. He dismissed this immediately. It was irrational and ludicrous to feel this way.

  Besides, there was a serious work to be done here. He had to focus, still uncertain if he had done the right thing by agreeing to this plan.

  “I know that woman,” Hill said to him. “Whoever she is, she seems younger than she should be.”