by Cross, Amy
“Maybe,” he replied. “I don't know. Find out for me, won't you?”
“I'll get onto it after lunch,” she told him, heading to the door. “Just... Don't worry about it too much while I'm out of the office, Sir. I'm sure we can do some research and maybe calm some of your worries.”
“I'm not worried,” he replied, “I'm just concerned.” Looking around the office, he almost seemed to be looking for some faint hint of the internet, perhaps a few wisps of smoke. “I just don't want people beaming pornography and other unsavory things into or through my head. I'm worried it explains a lot about the way the world is headed.”
***
“Seriously?” Jack asked a short while later, as she and Jane sat on a bench in the town square, eating their lunch on a calm, sunny afternoon. “He thinks the internet is beaming porn into his head?”
“I'll talk him out of it,” she replied, taking a bite of her sandwich before holding up the front page of the morning's local paper. “Right now, I'm more interested in this latest story about the Mel Armitage murder. It's got your byline.”
“What else do you think I'm gonna put on the front-page?” he asked. “It's only been three days, Jane. This is the biggest story to hit Bowley since... Well, since the last time someone was murdered here, nine whole years ago. People want to know what's really going on.”
“But this part,” Jane continued, frowning as she read one of the paragraphs, “about the murder weapon... You describe it as a serrated knife about five inches long.”
He took another bite of his sandwich. “So?” he asked with his mouth full. “Wasn't it?”
“Sure, but...” She stared at him for a moment. “We never released that information to the public, so how did you know?”
“It must have been in one of the reports.”
“No, Jack, it wasn't.”
“Then you must have mentioned it.”
She shook her head.
“You must have done.” He smiled. “Unless I'm secretly the killer and that's how I know.”
“There are only two ways you could have known the details of the murder weapon,” she told him. “One is if you accessed the main police computers, which I'm pretty sure you didn't do. The other is...”
Taking another bite, he waited for her to continue. “What?” he asked, again with his mouth full.
“My phone,” she said, with clear tension in her voice. “I emailed some files to myself. If you'd checked my phone, you could have found them.”
“I didn't check your phone.”
She stared at him, as if she was searching his expression for some hint of a lie.
“I didn't check your phone,” he said again. “Jesus, Jane, what kind of person do you think I am? It never even occurred to me to do that, I wouldn't invade your privacy like that.”
“Then how did you know these details?”
“You must have mentioned it one time when we talked.”
“No.”
“It slipped out. What's the big deal?”
“It didn't slip out,” she said firmly. “I'm not an idiot, Jack. I know what I can and can't tell members of the public.”
“I'm not a member of the public,” he replied, “I'm your husband. And I just so happen to be the editor of that paper, but first and foremost I'm your husband. I don't go rooting around in your phone.”
“Then how -”
“Maybe Alex told me,” he continued. “Maybe I guessed. To be honest, I don't remember. The past few days have been a blur anyway, do you have any idea how much copy I've had to file?” He stared at her for a moment, before looking at the paper in her hands. “Obviously I'm a genius and I guessed the truth, but one thing I can promise you is that I have never, ever gone snooping through your phone. Frankly, I'm a little offended that you'd even think that's a possibility.”
“Sorry,” she muttered, glancing across the square, “I just -”
Stopping suddenly, she realized there was a figure in the distance, standing in the shadows of the alley that ran down the side of the pharmacy. She squinted slightly, and finally she saw that her initial suspicion was correct.
Caitlin.
“What's up?” Jack asked. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”
“Not a ghost,” she replied, getting to her feet. “At least, I don't think so. Sorry, I have some errands to run before I go back to the office. Do you mind if we skip the rest of lunch?”
“Is this because you still think -”
“I don't still think anything,” she told him, leaning down and kissing the top of his head. “I'm sorry I got so suspicious. Obviously I must have mentioned the weapon after all.”
“I'm glad we settled that one,” he replied with a sigh.
Grabbing her bag, Jane made her way across the square, heading straight for the spot where Caitlin was loitering. There weren't many people about, but she was quite certain that Jack would be watching her until she got out of his line of sight, so she headed down the alley and ignored Caitlin, walking straight past her and making her way toward the parking lot at the back.
“Hey,” Caitlin said after a moment, following her. “Are you ignoring me just because I'm an expression of your subconscious mind?”
“Hang on,” Jane muttered.
“That is what you think of me, isn't it?” Caitlin continued. “I'm just an illusion, a figment of your imagination? I thought you'd decided there's no way I can be a ghost.”
“I just need to get out of sight,” Jane replied, slipping around the corner and then stopping to look around. Fortunately, there was no sign of anyone, so she turned to Caitlin. For a moment, the deathly pall of the girl's skin sent a shiver up Jane's spine, but she forced herself to stay calm. “What do you want?” she asked.
“I don't know. What do you think I want? Revenge? Justice?”
“Obviously...” She paused. “Obviously you're here to help me realize something. My subconscious mind has noticed something and this is how it's being expressed to my conscious mind.”
“That makes you sound quite mad.”
“So what is it?”
“Am I supposed to make it easy for you?”
Checking her watch, Jane tried to keep from letting her annoyance show. “I have to get back soon.”
“Do you believe your husband?” Caitlin asked with a faint smile. “Do you think you did something so monumentally stupid and unprofessional as blabbing about the knife that was used to kill Mel? Or do you think he took a peek at your phone?”
“I think...” Looking over her shoulder, Jane checked once again that no-one could see her. “I think I'm standing in a parking lot,” she added finally, turning back to Caitlin, “talking to myself. If anyone sees me or hears me, they'll think I've lost my mind.”
“Maybe you have,” Caitlin replied. “Or maybe this is the most sane way to work through things. You didn't blab to Jack, that's all just a load of rubbish. You know full well that you're far too professional to do anything like that. He looked in your phone.”
“I can't be sure of that.”
“You know it's true. Deep down, you know he took a look while you were showering, or during the night. If you still won't accept it, plant some false details on there tonight and wait to see if they show up in the paper.”
“I'm not setting a trap for my husband.”
“Not even to clear his name?”
“Is that why you're here? To taunt me?”
“I don't know. You're the one who conjured me up out of thin air, you must have had a reason. The real Caitlin Somers has been dead for nine years, remember? Her body's moldering in the ground, and her mind... Well, depending on your belief system, her mind either ceased to exist, or she moved on to the afterlife.” She paused, as if she was waiting for Jane's reaction. “Or are you starting to have doubts? Are you starting to think that maybe I might be a ghost after all?”
Jane shook her head.
“Good,” Caitlin continued, “because that would
be crazy.” She paused again. “You need to recognize the fact that the simplest explanation is almost always the right one.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you're in danger of over-complicating things. Meanwhile, the guy who killed Mel Armitage is still around somewhere.”
“Unless Alex is right and it was just someone passing through.”
“You don't believe that for a second.”
Jane paused. “No, I don't.”
“He'll kill again, you know,” Caitlin continued. “That's the other reason I came to see you today. He's not done yet. I promise you, he'll kill again.” She looked up at the clear blue sky. “The stars ordain it.”
“The stars?” Jane looked up for a moment. “The stars don't have anything to do with it. No-one else is going to die, because Alex and I are going to -”
Looking back at Caitlin, she realized that the girl was gone.
***
“You didn't get these from me,” Doctor Tomlin whispered as he slid an envelope over to Jack. “Remember, I could lose my license if people find out what I'm doing, and the next medical examiner might not be so willing to cooperate with the press.”
“I'm not going to tell anyone,” Jack replied, glancing at the bar to make sure Greg wasn't watching, before taking some cash from his pocket and slipping it to Tomlin. “I appreciate this, man. The police have been no use at all.”
“Isn't your wife half the local police force?” Tomlin asked.
“Touchy subject, man,” Jack muttered as he opened the envelope and peered inside. “Is this the full autopsy report on Mel Armitage?”
“Minus photos.”
“Why minus photos?”
“Because if those got out, people would definitely start looking at me funny. At least with information, there's the possibility that you're just guessing.”
“So what's the gist of all this?” Jack asked. “Is the guy who killed Mel the same guy who killed Caitlin and the others?”
“Hard to say. Some indicators say yes, some say no.”
“What's your gut feeling?”
“Beats me. Your wife's very interested in the patterns of the stab-wounds, though. She got me to go over them a couple of extra times.”
“Why?”
“I think she thinks they're significant because they're so similar. Maybe she's right, I don't know, but it's certainly odd that two apparently frenzied knife attacks would result in patterns that are essentially the same.”
“It is,” Jack muttered, sliding the documents out and taking a look. “So this is what Jane's focusing on? What about Alex?”
“The guy's a loon.”
“I know, but -”
“He came through to ask me about internet waves today,” Tomlin continued. “That's the phrase he used, internet waves. He thinks the internet is broadcasting pornography directly into his mind, or rather through it and out the other side. He's worried that he might be subconsciously picking up on it, so he wants to make a metal helmet. I point out that if it's open-faced, the waves would get in and then bounce around inside, maybe making the problem worse.”
“How did he react to that?”
“I think he's considering a closed-face helmet. Like the kinda thing a racing driver wears.”
“Great,” Jack replied, sliding the documents back into the envelope. “I always knew he was gonna crack one day. Shame it has to happen just as he's trying to catch a killer.”
“It might be spreading to Jane too.”
Jack turned to him. “What do you mean?”
“Don't take this the wrong way,” Tomlin continued, “but... Earlier, when I went to give her some test results, I found her alone in the office. Talking to herself.”
“Are you sure she wasn't on the phone? Maybe she was using a hands-free kit?”
Tomlin shook his head.
“What was she saying?” Jack asked.
“I didn't hear. She was keeping her voice down, but it sound urgent, and she sounded pissed off, like she was arguing with someone. Someone who wasn't there, man.”
“My wife isn't crazy.”
“I didn't say she was. I just figured I'd tell you what I saw and heard. The thing is...” He paused. “I might've picked up on one or two of the words she said, and one of them...”
Jack waited for him to continue. “Spill.”
“It sounded like she thought she was talking to Caitlin Somers.”
“No way.”
“Sounded like it.”
“That would be nuts,” Jack continued. “You obviously got the wrong end of the stick on this one.”
“I hope so, man, I hope so. I like Jane, I wouldn't want to think that something's going wrong in her head, but... I heard what I heard, man. Jane was talking to Caitlin like the girl was actually right in front of her, and I don't know about you, but I reckon that's not quite right.”
Jack paused for a moment, before again checking that Greg wasn't close enough to hear.
“Thanks for letting me know,” he muttered. “I'm sure it's nothing, but... I'll keep an eye on her.” Slipping the envelope into his pocket, he got to his feet. “Let me know if anything else comes up, yeah? You're doing this town a real service by helping me out. The people of Bowley need to know what's really going on, and the police clearly aren't gonna get their act in gear.”
“Just make sure no-one finds out I'm your source,” Tomlin replied, watching as Jack headed to the door. “I don't want to start getting funny looks around town.” Getting to his feet, he shuffled over to the jukebox, slipped some coins into the slot, and looking for something loud.
IV
With music blaring all around and the heavy red lights of the club pulsing in time to the beat, Katie leaned against the bar for a moment and tried to catch her breath. Even for The Border, it had been an insane night, and the clients were a lot more boisterous than usual. She could still feel their clammy hands on her bare skin, and for the first time since her initial night at the club, she was starting to think that maybe she'd reached her limit.
“You okay?” Hayley asked, stopping next to her and nudging her in the ribs. “Hey Katie, snap out of it. Are you okay?”
Turning to her, Katie saw the grin on Hayley's face.
“Third night blues, huh?”
“What?” Katie asked.
“Third night blues. Don't worry, it's totally normal.” She grabbed a jug of water and poured them each a drink. “The first night is whacked out. You're still adjusting, everything's nuts. The second night, things seem more normal and you start to think that maybe you can handle it after all. And then the third night...” After letting some ice cubes drop into the glasses, she smiled. “The third night, it always gets to be too much. Your head spins, you body aches, and you consider quitting. Come on, admit it. You're thinking about it right now.”
“I just...” Taking a glass, Katie downed the water quickly. “I mean...”
“You're doing really well.”
“I'm not.”
“You are. They love you down here. Seriously, I can't even remember the last time a new girl made such a big impression. Not since me, at least. Mr. Crutchlow's been asking about you.”
Katie winced. “Really?”
“I think he wants to talk to you privately. Don't be scared, it's not as bad as it sounds. Not usually, anyway.”
“Talk to me?” She paused, before looking back over her shoulder. The red light of the club was so intense, the air seemed to have become a permanent haze, but she could see some naked men lounging around one of the closer tables. “What does he want to talk to me about?”
“Mr. Crutchlow's different to all the other men down here,” Hayley continued with a grin. “He never misses a night, not ever. I mean, you'd think at his age he'd need to slow down a little, but if anything he's speeding up. It's kinda impressive when an old guy manages to keep up with the world. I hope I'm like that when I'm, like, ninety or whatever he is, although I don't wan
na be still hanging out at a place like this. One of the other girls here says he's been coming to The Border since forever, and when he decides he likes a girl, he really likes them. Know what I mean?”
Katie turned to her. “No.”
“His fancy is fleeting, but you should take advantage of it while you can.”
“Take advantage?”
“You'll see,” Hayley added, biting her bottom lip for a moment. “Someone's coming up behind me, yeah? I can feel the floor vibrating.”
Katie watched as a naked guy in his fifties approached Hayley from behind. Reaching around the girl's waist, he clamped a hand on her bare right breast and gave it a squeeze, letting his fingertips linger over the nipple.
“Just remember the rules,” Hayley said with a smile, before turning to the man. “That goes for you too, Sir. Rules are everything in The Border. This ain't the Wild West.”
Katie watched as the man's hands wandered south over Hayley's body, eventually cupping her buttocks and giving them a quick squeeze before parting them. Letting out a giggle, Hayley took one of the man's hands in hers and began to lead him away, although she glanced back briefly at Katie before disappearing entirely into the red haze of the room. The last Katie saw of her was a pair of buttocks, swinging out of view. With music pounding so loud that the bar was actually vibrating, the whole club seemed to be throbbing more than ever, and talk of 'the rules' seemed to mean nothing on a night when lines were being pushed and possibilities were being explored.
“Hey there,” a voice said suddenly.
Turning, Katie saw a late-middle-aged man with graying hair, grinning at her as he leaned on the bar. She felt a shiver pass through her body as she realized that she recognized him from the 'real' world: his name was Tom Lanegan, and she knew he worked at one of the offices on the industrial estate with her old schoolfriend Candy Carver. According to Candy, Tom was one of the sleaziest guys around.
“I heard there was a new girl working here,” he said with a broad smile, as his eyes moved down her body, getting a good look and taking in every detail. “I must say, I approve.”
“Drinks for Mr. Crutchlow,” the barman said suddenly, sliding a tray toward Katie. Their eyes met for a moment before he headed back to the other end of the bar.