by Matt Drabble
“You’re insane,” she couldn’t stop herself from blurting out.
“I have been planning this forever, Jane; every twist and turn that you went through was all part of the plan. Hell, I even managed to secure some of Arthur Durage’s blood and plant it at Alan Holmes’ murder scene. Have you any comprehension of what this has taken? The organisation, the planning - layers upon layers don’t just happen overnight.”
“I still don’t understand why.”
“ Training, Janey - training for you. I had to make you strong, Sis, strong enough to stand by my side, strong enough for us to take on the whole world. I had to find something to bring you out of your exile and then I had to get you in shape, Janey. You were psychically flabby, to say the least.”
“You’re insane,” she reiterated.
“Every visionary has been called something similar at one time or another; history will judge me, Jane. They’ll judge us.”
“And what about Danny? You were with him for almost two years, Danny said.”
“Sacrifices had to be made,” his voice suddenly went stiff and terse. “Believe me, you have no idea just what commitment this has taken, what kind of horrors I’ve had to endure.”
She wanted to rail against him but his power was so overwhelming here in his mind that she didn’t dare.
Something buzzed around her from the outside and she tried to ignore it but the nagging became insistent. She wanted to stay and keep him talking until she understood, but the buzzing became a deafening chorus.
“Stay with me, Jane,” her brother pleaded. “I have done so much for us to be together, things that have blackened my soul, but I’ve done them all for you, for us.”
His voice was becoming distant and, despite the fact that he was a monster, part of her wanted to stay; there was a seductive quality about his freeness, about his power, and she wanted to know more. The strongest motivation, however, was the fact that she still didn’t know his face or where he was.”
“What do I call you?” she had to shout as he faded. “Is it really Alexandru or Nathan?”
“Simon,” he replied from a growing distance.
“I have to see you, Simon. I have to meet my brother,” she screamed into the blackness behind her as she rushed towards the light.
His answer wasn’t in words. It was in a flash of an emotion of fear, mixed in equal measure with excitement. She could feel her bones rattle as she screamed in delight when the wind hit her face and the world thundered around her and she knew where he was.
CHAPTER TWENTY
REUNION
Danny plunged Jane’s head under the ice cold bathwater again. Her face disappeared beneath the surface and he prayed for her to struggle. She had collapsed into a catatonic state that he had been unable to shake her from until her breathing had slowed to the point of being almost non-existent. He knew instinctively that Randall’s cries for him to call for an ambulance would yield no success for Jane. She wasn’t ill, she was simply inside the inner world that only she could reach.
He had moved her to the sofa in the lounge, pacing up and down, hoping that she would come out of it soon. Randall had been clucking about doctors and hospitals but Danny had known that this was all that was necessary.
He had yet to allow his mind to confront the creeping fears that were tingling up his spine about Nathan. Zerneck claimed that the man in Nathan’s photo was some eastern European gravedigger and Jane had said that he was Alfonso Ramsey’s assistant. But he was still clinging to the hope that both of them were wrong or maybe that Nathan was simply covering his name and occupation; maybe he was further in the closet than Danny had ever been. But in his heart he knew that something was very, very wrong; he just didn’t dare face it, not yet.
Eventually, he had grown as nervous as Zerneck as Jane continued to stay under. He’d swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bathroom. He’d run a tub full of cold water before ducking her under the clear surface, praying that the impact would slap her out of wherever she was.
“Easy, easy,” he soothed as she returned, struggling against him. “You’re safe now.”
She clung to his arms, shaking from the cold water and from wherever she had been. He desperately wanted to press her for answers, but her eyes were wide and in shock.
He pulled her from the water and Zerneck handed him a fresh towel which he wrapped around her trembling shoulders. He half carried her from the bathroom into the closest bedroom and set her down on the bed. She tucked her knees up to her chest and pulled the bed’s blanket around her. Danny waited patiently for her to speak.
“It’s all my fault,” she whispered eventually. “All of this is because of me, all of it.”
His first instinct was to tell her that she was being ridiculous, that it couldn’t be her fault, but something in her voice kept him from denying her and so she told her tale from beyond.
----------
“This is nuts,” Zerneck said in a small quiet voice a short time later as the two men stood in the kitchen.
The sun was fresh on the horizon and Danny had never felt more tired in his life. His body cried out for sleep but he could not fulfil such a selfish request. They were bathed in the warming glow of the morning but Danny felt chilled to the bone. He had spent time alone with Jane in the bedroom while she had explained everything to him, telling him that they needed to talk in private. He had just finished relaying her story to Zerneck.
“I know its nuts,” he sighed. “But at the same time we both know that it’s happening.”
“You can’t really expect me to believe all of this?” Zerneck exclaimed.
“Open your eyes, Randall. More importantly, open your ears. You’ve been in your business longer than I’ve been in mine and you know when someone is lying and when they’re telling the truth.”
“Hey, just because she believes what she’s saying doesn’t make it the truth.”
“But it is and you know it.”
“Bullshit.”
“I know it’s scary, Randall - believe me, I know. Having your whole system of belief shattered, finding out that the world isn’t flat, that there is more to this life than we can see, that there is something else beyond our comprehension, it’s enough to send you mad if you let it. But she’s telling the truth and there’s still a killer out there.”
“Killer?”
“I don’t care if he didn’t do the cutting. Kline may have been the weapon, but he pulled the trigger, Randall; it was all him.”
“Well how the hell are we supposed to find him then? If this man is capable of the things that Jane says he is, how do we find a…, man like that?”
“She’ll take us to him,” Danny said, nodding firmly. “She says that she doesn’t know where he is, but she’ll be able to track him now. That’s where he’s made his first mistake.”
“Mistake? It sure doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing, Inspector.”
“He’s opened himself up to her now. No more illusions, no more smoke and mirrors - he’s laid himself bare, hoping that his revelations will bind her to him.”
“And you think he’s wrong about that?” Zerneck asked suspiciously.
“Well, you heard her in there; she told us everything.”
“Except where to find him.”
“She said that she doesn’t know,” Danny answered, irritated.
“And you believe that?”
He considered the question. Jane had explained everything about the mystery man, about their connection, about his claims to be able to project images and control a sad, sick man like Martin Kline into doing his bidding. But she had claimed not to know his identity or if he had a connection directly to her. She had offered the opinion that them sharing the same gift had tied them together, that he had sought her out, drawn like a moth to a flame.
It had all made sense while she had been talking; her words had flowed over him and the whole thing seemed flawless. But now, standing in the kitchen with Z
erneck, he suddenly found it hard to believe that she didn’t know who had been making them all dance. All of the questions that he should have been asking burst into his mind in a flash and he struggled to understand just how he had taken everything that she’d told him at face value.
“Oh shit,” he said, turning quickly and breaking for the bedroom.
He ran along the hallway and flung the door open, only to find the room empty. “She’s gone,” he said as Zerneck joined him in the doorway.
“I don’t understand.”
“To go to him,” Danny sighed heavily. “Whatever new tricks she’s learning, she used them on me when I was trying to question her.”
“But why?”
“Years ago, during the original Crucifier case, she led my father into a basement and he died. She’s blamed herself ever since and now she won’t put me in that same position. She’s going to try and take this maniac down alone.”
“So she does know who he is?”
“Oh yes, she knows who he is and where he is and if we don’t find her soon, I’m guessing that she’ll never show up again.”
----------
Jane let Danny’s rental car roll down the lane before she switched on the ignition. Part of her felt a stinging sense of loss and fear as she headed out alone, but that was her selfishness talking. There was no way that she could let another person die for her. Danny’s father had paid that price once and there was no way that she was going to allow the son to follow his father into the grave, not by her hand.
As she drove, the scales fell slowly from her eyes as her memory started to clear, thanks to her brother’s influence. All of her memories about her father were false, images sent by her mother’s ability and love. Her father had died when she had been a baby but her mother had kept him alive for her. It had been a misguided attempt to spare her the pain, but in the end his sudden disappearance had been almost as traumatic. Her mother must have drained herself severely by keeping up the charade, meaning that one day her batteries just ran dry. At that point, what could her mother say? Just what reason could she give for his sudden vanishing?
She didn’t blame her mother for her subterfuge or for seeking out physical contact from another man. Jane’s memories started to pick out the man from the background; he had been a gardener, a kindly man, quick with a smile and gentle word to her as she’d played in the back garden. His face was a little fuzzy as though someone had been blocking him from her thoughts.
As she drove, she pressed harder for the memories to flow more freely and just one or twice, as her forehead sweated profusely under the strain, she thought that she saw a small boy coming to work with the gardener. The child was a few years younger than her and his presence floated out of reach, but it was enough for her to know her own brother.
At the cabin, Simon had shown her where he was without words. It had been in a rush of adrenaline-fuelled excitement and fear. When she had been around eight years old, they had gone on a family trip to a funfair along the coast. The pier at Westhaven had been a slice of perfect fun by the sea. Her little heart had been overwrought with the sheer excitement as they rounded a corner and the fairground rides had stretched up to the sky. They’d towered over a young girl with twisted metallic carcasses that loomed over the horizon. Their skeletons had been ridden by rattling cars packed full of screaming kids all terrified and thrilled in equal measure. The neon lights had showered the night with flashing invitations that hummed out a hypnotic siren’s call. The air had been full of frying delights and squeals of pleasure. It had been one of the best nights of her life and one of her strongest memories, but only now did the specifics start to reappear.
The road ahead was possibly the last one that she would ever take and she tried to take it slowly. She knew that she had to clear her mind of everything that she thought was true. Simon clearly had the ability to cloud her thoughts with projected images, an ability that he had inherited from their mother, but one that Jane did not yet share.
The drive to the funfair was going to be a long one and it would be getting dark by the time that she arrived. The timing sent a cold shiver down her spine but at least the place should be packed with tourists - holidaymakers that would make excellent potential witnesses.
----------
“So how the hell are we going to find her?” Randall demanded, throwing his hands up into the air.
Danny was pondering the same problem but without the other man’s histrionics. Jane was driving the rental car that, perversely enough, had been procured by the man Danny had known as Nathan, a man that he had been sharing his life with. The pain in his heart was sharp and heavy. In one foul swoop, Danny’s life, career and future had been obliterated and all because of love. It was only now that he was starting to realise just how much Nathan had meant to him and just how big the hole left was going to be. There was, of course, the huge dent to his professional pride. Just how could he have not known that the man they were searching for could have been found in his own bed?
“Well?” Randall asked again impatiently.
“I don’t know,” Danny admitted.
“Brilliant, Sherlock!”
“Look, normally I could track the rental car, report it stolen, use my credentials and the firm’s tracking system to find her in a heartbeat. But in case you’ve forgotten, there’s a warrant out for my arrest and there’s no one that I can call to help; my whole team is gone Randall, everyone.”
“We have to do something. I don’t want to wait it out until you and I are stuck under Barrett’s thumb for the rest of our lives.”
“And Jane, of course.”
“What?”
“Jane, you know … saving her, capturing the man behind Kline’s murders. I’m assuming that they are your main priorities?”
Randall went red and silent.
Danny felt like his right hand had been taken away with his badge. It seemed like there was nothing he could do without his ID and no moves he could make; even tracing a rental car through its GPS tracker was beyond him. The next thought hit him hard and he rushed through the cabin, desperately hoping that he was right.
“What is it?” Randall asked.
“My phone, I think I left it in the car last night.” A further careful search confirmed the fact.
“What do you mean?”
“The phone company can track the phone’s GPS the same way as the car’s.” Danny said excitedly.
“Won’t the police be monitoring your signal?”
“Not this phone, it’s my private line,” Danny said thinking about Nathan again as he was the sole reason for the phone’s existence.
“Really?”
“I tossed my police issue phone a couple of days ago onto the back of a lorry heading north at a service station. Hopefully, they’ve been tracking that signal and think that we’re in Scotland by now. Give me your phone,” Danny demanded and Randall complied.
It didn’t take long to access the relevant website and turn on his tracker. A small map popped up, complete with a small blinking red dot that denoted the rental car’s whereabouts and hopefully Jane’s as well. She was heading up the coast road and had a head start but they could follow her and Danny could pray that they reached her in time.
----------
Danny was right about the police tracking his signal heading north, but unbeknownst to him, Barrett was also tracking Randall’s for more personal reasons.
The commander sat back in his high-backed, expensive leather chair with a beaming contented smile on his face. His diary was currently full of appointments and interviews as his stature rose exponentially. He was the face of Britain’s modern police force and it was his image that had been beamed into every TV and splashed across every front page. His name was now a brand and a valuable one at that. It would soon be time to parlay his new found fame into something more tangible - politics perhaps.
The intercom on his desk buzzed annoyingly, interrupting his happy thoughts. “What?” he
snapped as he reached over to press the button.
“Superintendant Ripley on line two, Sir,” the discombobulated voice replied.
“I told you no interruptions,” Barrett snapped.
“He says it’s urgent.”
Barrett jabbed the intercom shut and snatched up the phone. “Yes?” he growled.
“Ripley, Sir. We’ve tracked Meyers’ phone signal to a truck stop just outside of Dumfries. We raided the lorry and found the phone but no Meyers; there’s a chance that he might have skipped out before we got there but I don’t think so. The driver swears that there was no one in the back and I’m inclined to believe him.”
Barrett bristled with the incompetence of others. In any usual circumstances, he probably would have sent Meyers on a case like this but that was obviously off the table now. He hung up the phone without replying and leaned back in his chair.
“Everything okay?” a voice from below the desk asked as the attractive reporter from earlier looked up from her kneeling position.
“None of your damn business,” Barrett snapped. “And who told you to stop?”
As the bobbing woman continued her duties, Barrett remembered that he also had the ability to track Zerneck. He couldn’t believe that the reporter might suddenly develop a backbone and work with the missing policeman and his psychic sidekick, but it was the only hope that he had.
There were men under his command that he had faith in, men that could be relied upon for their discretion and obedience, men who had access to firearms and weren’t afraid to use them. His men had been on alert and mobile for the last few days now and ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. As the woman below the desk reached his finish, he made the decision and made the call.
----------
Simon walked alone, savouring the quiet moments before the approaching storm. His life had all been building slowly towards this moment and now that it was finally close, he felt fear and a strange kind of loss as the chase reached its conclusion.