Shadow of Death (9781476057248)

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Shadow of Death (9781476057248) Page 22

by Ellis, Tim


  His phone pinged, notifying him that he had voicemail. He connected and listened to Toadstone telling him that there was no one chasing Catherine on the DVD, and no evidence that the recording had been altered in any way.

  He disconnected the call and stared into space.

  ‘What, Sir?’

  ‘That was Toadstone; he didn’t find anything on the security DVD.’

  ‘But...’ Catherine’s shoulders drooped, and she wiped her eyes as tears began to cascade down her cheeks. ‘I wasn’t lying.’

  Parish stood up and went to the bar to pay while the other two made their way outside.

  The mood was dark as they walked back up Barley Lane to the hospital.

  ‘We’ll go straight home after I’ve been to my appointment, Sir.’

  ‘Okay.’ He felt numb. He was sure Catherine had been telling the truth, but if Steve Potts didn’t find any evidence of tampering then she couldn’t have been, and the whole idea of the killer haunting Harold Wood Hospital was a complete nonsense. He had half an hour to wait until his own appointment, so he sat in the hospital reception with his brain parked in neutral. Maybe he should accept his fate, drive to Yorkshire and disappear into the black hole with Angie and the child that would soon be born.

  ***

  ‘Tell me what you’ve been doing since our last session, Mary,’ Dr Kumar Suresh said from his chair at the head of the couch.

  ‘Everything?’

  ‘What you feel is important.’

  ‘I don’t know where to start.’

  ‘Yes you do.’

  She liked Dr Suresh’s office; it was full of interesting pictures and ornaments from India and other faraway places. He collected Buddha heads and had lots of them on shelves and tables all around the room. She was lying on the couch with her ankles crossed, and felt very comfortable – in fact, too comfortable. The couch was pushed up against the right-hand wall, and was covered by an Indian rug and an assortment of cushions and pillows. It smelled old and musty. There was an Indian rug on the wall to her left, and another on the floor partially covering the parquet. Facing her, behind the door, was a bookcase containing lots of books by Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung. Half the night she had slept on the floor of the backroom, and now felt particularly tired.

  ‘You’ll wake me up if I fall asleep?’

  ‘Are you still having the nightmares?’

  ‘Every night. The same one – a faceless man is chasing me. He has a knife, I’m naked, and I know he’s going to rape me then kill me.’

  ‘You know Ruben is dead.’

  ‘I know, but I can’t control my nightmares.’

  ‘Yes you can. I want you to do some things for me. You have to tell yourself each night before you go to sleep that Ruben is dead and can’t hurt you anymore. I also want you to use a night-light and leave your door open. Don’t read scary books or watch scary movies before you go to sleep, and, lastly, I’d like you to sleep with a soft blanket.

  ‘I stopped sleeping with a night light and a security blanket when I was three years old.’

  ‘You’re never too old for either. With the night-light, if you wake from a nightmare, you’ll be able to see familiar things and remember where you are. The other things are specific to you. If you do have your nightmare you have to remember that Ruben is dead, and that you have a blanket to cover your nakedness. Will you try those things for me, Mary?’

  ‘If you think they’ll help, Doctor.’

  ‘Yes, I think they will.’

  ‘What happens if I find a man?’

  ‘Are you likely to find a man?’

  ‘No, not really.’

  ‘Then it shouldn’t be a problem, but even if you do he’ll understand if he’s a good man.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so, but now I have to chant a mantra before I go to bed, wear a nose clip or snore like a dog, sleep with the door open and a night-light on, and cuddle a blanket. I’ll never find a man.’

  ‘Yes you will, Mary. Is there anything else that’s worrying you?’

  ‘DI Parish has been reduced in rank to Constable and transferred to a Black Hole in Yorkshire.’

  Dr Suresh didn’t say anything, and she wondered if he’d fallen asleep. She swivelled her head, but he seemed to be waiting for her to continue.

  ‘We got a new DCI and DI Parish lost his temper with her, and then he was suspended, but today he went to a disciplinary hearing. He doesn’t know that I know what happened at the hearing, but I do. He told us he’d got a minor punishment, but he lied to us.’

  ‘And how does that make you feel?’

  ‘I feel terrible. I try not to think about how it affects me, but I can’t help myself. He’s my partner, my tutor and nearly my dad, and all I can think about is how miserable I am because he won’t be here. I’m a terrible person aren’t I, Doctor?’

  ‘No, you’re not. It’s only natural to think about yourself, and that’s why you’re here – to talk about you. Do you sometimes think about how DI Parish feels?’

  ‘Oh yes, I know he wants to do the very best job he can, and the very best for me, but even though he jokes I know he feels bad inside. He’s hoping that the Chief Constable will make everything right on Monday, but I don't know if he will. And anyway, Monday is too late because DI Parish will be on his way to Yorkshire, and I’ll be on my own.’ She burst into tears.

  ‘There are some things in life that we can’t change, Mary. Your whole life revolves around DI Parish and your work, and maybe what’s happened to DI Parish is a good thing. It will allow you to take back control of your life.’

  She sat up and stared at Dr Suresh. ‘Are you sure you’re a Dr, Doctor?’

  ‘What makes you ask that, Mary?’

  ‘Well, for one thing it would be good if you could stop answering a question with a question. And for another, hell will freeze over before I abandon DI Parish.’

  ‘So, even though you’re thinking of how miserable you feel, you’re also thinking of how you can help DI Parish?’

  She lay back down. ‘Yes, I suppose I am.’

  For the last half-hour she fell asleep. Dr Suresh woke her at twenty-five past three.

  ‘I thought you were going to wake me, Doctor?’

  ‘I just did.’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve been asleep for ages. Did I snore?’

  ‘Only a little bit, but I went to the cafeteria for a coffee.’

  ‘What about your secretary?’

  ‘She had a pair of ear plugs rattling around in her odds and ends drawer that someone had left here years ago.’

  ‘Maybe I should carry a spare nose clip around with me if I’m going to fall asleep at the drop of a hat.’

  ‘That might be a good idea.’

  ‘Do I need another appointment, Doctor?’

  ‘More to the point, do you think you need another appointment, Mary?’

  ‘Do you think I think I need another appointment?’

  He smiled. ‘I think we’re a long way from the end of your treatment, and you know that don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I do, Doctor.’ She slid off the couch and stood up.

  ‘Make an appointment with Lucy for a month’s time, Mary. Next month I’m going to try a new treatment on you called eye movement desensitisation and reprocessing. It’s a bit experimental, but it’s had promising results with rape victims and combat veterans.’

  ‘Okay, thank you, Doctor. I feel much better now.’

  ‘That was probably the sleep you had.’

  She laughed. ‘No, about myself. I know now that I have to help DI Parish.’

  Catherine was in the reception waiting for her.

  ***

  Alex Knight opened her eyes at three in the afternoon, and knew exactly what she wanted to do. First she rang room service and ordered a very late English breakfast, then she logged onto the Internet, opened up a free email account with email.com, and sent Jed Parish an email ‘From a Friend’.

  Satisfied the debt was now paid
, she devoured the breakfast when it arrived, washed and showered, and went shopping for new clothes.

  Much later, she checked out of the hotel, caught a taxi to the airport and returned to her idyllic life on the island of Ikaria, and her impending wedding to the father of the child growing inside her.

  ***

  ‘Inspector Parish. So nice of you to actually keep an appointment for a change.’

  ‘Well, this will be the last one, Doctor Rafferty. I’ve been transferred to a black hole in Yorkshire as a Constable.’

  He sat in the chair opposite her. She had her legs tucked under her body and rested her notebook on her thigh. In fact, it looked as though she didn’t have any legs, and it unnerved him. Her hair had been plaited and the end pinned to the top of her head like a cobra waiting to pounce on a mongoose – he didn’t like that either. She wore a dark brown, long, baggy linen dress and had brown, chunky beads around her neck. He had the feeling that her moustache was getting darker, longer and more noticeable, and he wondered if there was any treatment for that. He knew women shaved their legs, under their arms and some other places, and there was also waxing, which he imagined was particularly painful, but what could a woman do about a hairy face? Maybe someone should tell her, but she probably already knew - she could hardly fail to notice when she looked in the mirror - she’d think she was the Bearded Lady from Barnum & Bailey’s Greatest Show on Earth. Maybe she didn’t have mirrors in her house – like a vampire...

  ‘You do surprise me.’

  ‘You said that as if you expected it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that I expected it, but it doesn’t surprise me.’

  ‘How many times have we met, Doctor?’

  ‘Counting today – twice. You’ve missed five appointments.’

  ‘Surely not? I love coming here.’

  ‘So, are we going to sit here duelling, or are you going to tell me what’s happened?’

  ‘How long have you got?’

  She said nothing.

  He shrugged. What did he have to lose? Everything he said was confidential. If this was his last appointment, then it didn’t really matter if he told her the truth. What was the truth?

  ‘I miss Chief Day and Doc Michelin.’

  ‘Go on?’

  ‘Just that, really. I wonder what it’s all for now, why I’m doing what I’m doing. I get back to work after a week off, and this new DCI wants to change everything. It’s as if Chief Day has gone...’

  ‘He has gone.’

  ‘I know, but fatty Marshall...’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘That’s what Richards and I call... Well, Richards started it. It’s what we call the new DCI.’

  Doctor Rafferty wrote in her notebook. ‘I see, go on?’

  ‘Is that significant?’

  ‘Everything you say and do is significant.’

  ‘Oh well. Anyway, Marshall had it in for me right from the start. There was nothing left of Chief Day: she’d transferred Kowalski to traffic analysis, I mean... a DI in traffic analysis – What’s that all about? She decided that she was running the investigations, which essentially demoted me, and then she had the gall to take Richards off me.’

  ‘And you reacted?’

  ‘Did I? I told her what for. Slammed her office door and the glass fell out and smashed on her new carpet.’

  ‘For which you’ve been demoted and transferred to an idyllic country beat in Yorkshire?’

  ‘Yeah, something like that, but that’s not the end of it.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I was suspended...’

  ‘So, you’ve been on holiday?’

  He laughed. ‘If only. Toadstone – the Head of Forensics –found a body in a trunk at the landfill site, but he didn’t tell Marshall, he told me...’

  ‘And you told Marshall?’

  ‘I’m beginning to wish I had...’ He told Doctor Rafferty everything. ‘...and I think the nightmares are coming back.’

  ‘I knew you were going to be trouble as soon as I met you.’

  ‘It’s nice of you to say so, but I won’t be in your weird hair for much longer.’

  ‘And what about the man with the limp and the moustache?’

  He told her about the Chief Constable, Audrey, Sir Charles Lathbury, and Klosters.

  ‘Nothing is ever straightforward with you, is it?’

  ‘So, now it looks as though I’ll never find out who my parents were and who I really am. Oh, Angie says it doesn’t matter, that she’s marrying me for me, but it does matter – it matters to me. Not only will I not know who I am, neither will my child – and every child should know who they are.’

  He looked at the clock that went backwards on the wall. ‘I’ve outstayed my welcome; it’s quarter to five.’

  ‘You’re my last patient for the day. I always make sure I have time available for you, Inspector...’

  ‘Constable.’

  ‘And what about the murder investigation?’

  ‘Kowalski will just have to finish it off.’

  ‘So, it’s goodbye then?’

  ‘Looks like it.’

  ‘Well, have a wonderful time in Yorkshire. If you take things easy you’ll find the nightmares will disappear.’

  He stood up. ‘Thanks for all your help, Dr Rafferty.’

  ***

  ‘You’ve taken the wrong turning,’ Catherine said.

  ‘No I haven’t.’

  ‘But... Chigwell’s the other way.’

  ‘I’m not going to Chigwell.’

  ‘You told Jed we were going home.’

  ‘I lied.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘He lied as well.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About getting a reprimand at the discipline thingy.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘He’s been demoted to Constable and transferred to a black hole in Yorkshire. He has to be there on Monday.’

  ‘Surely they can’t do that?’

  ‘They’ve already done it. The phone call I got when we were walking to the restaurant for lunch was from Astrid – the clerk of the discipline thingy. She’s a friend, and I asked her to phone me when it was over.’

  ‘So, where are we going?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking...’

  ‘I’m not going to like where we’re going, am I?’

  ‘I have to help the Inspector, I owe him everything. We... have to help him.’

  ‘We’re going to Harold Wood Hospital, aren’t we?’

  ‘It’ll be all right- we’re not going into the basement.’

  ‘I don’t want to go back there.’

  ‘Don’t you want to know why nobody’s chasing you on the DVD? At the moment, everyone thinks you’re a liar – even the Inspector.’

  ‘Do you think I lied?’

  ‘No, but we have to find out what happened. The way I see it is if Inspector Parish can solve the murders by Monday, then he won’t have to go to Yorkshire.’

  ‘And we’re not going near the basement?’

  ‘Nowhere near- we’re going to the security office to speak to Paul Hartson, and then we’ll go home.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘We ought to ring Jed and tell him where we’re going.’

  ‘And what do you think he’ll say?’

  ‘Mmmm, I suppose not then.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  He arrived home at quarter to six with his head draped in a black cloud.

  ‘How did it go?’ Angie asked him as he was finishing the jacket potato drenched in baked beans and crispy bacon with a side salad that she’d placed in front of him five minutes after he’d walked in the door. He’d eaten it, but couldn’t remember what it tasted like. He assumed Richards and Catherine had already eaten and were upstairs getting ready to paint Chigwell red. It was Friday night, after all. They had no meeting tonight, and it was the end of the working week for normal people, pay day, a time to celebrate havi
ng two whole days off before returning to the drudgery of work on Monday morning. Well, except for him; he would be on the M1 Motorway driving north to disappear into a black hole.

  ‘What do you think of Yorkshire?’ He told her what had taken place at the discipline hearing.

  ‘Seems like they’d already decided your punishment before you got in there.’

  ‘That’s what Michael said.’

  ‘You shouldn’t call her that.’

  ‘I don’t to her face, but well...’

  ‘So, you want me to give up my job, my house, my friends, my gym membership, and.. . In fact, totally change my life to come with you?’

  ‘No, I can’t ask you to do that for me.’

  ‘So, you don’t want me to come with you? You want to go up there on your own like a single man in a police uniform and have sex with all the local girls...’

  Angie was washing up, and he was drying.

  ‘I wasn’t really looking forward to it, but now you’re making it sound like something I might enjoy.’

  She flicked water at him.

  He flicked some back.

  A cup of water splattered on his shirt.

  He put both of his hands in the sink and scooped a whole lot of water down her front.

  Pretty soon they were both drenched, and Digby began barking as Parish chased her up the stairs and they had sex on the bedroom floor.

  ‘Now somebody has to clean up the kitchen,’ Angie said afterwards.

  ‘And Digby needs a walk,’ he countered.

  ‘I’ll do the kitchen...’

  ‘Or, we could both do the kitchen, and then both take Digby out.’

  ‘You have a way with words, Jed Parish.’

  ‘Yes I do, so you’d better not let me go up to Yorkshire on my own.’

  ‘Where’re Mary and Catherine?’

  His heart missed a beat. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They haven’t come home yet.’

  ‘But... Mary said they were coming straight home after her appointment.’

  He got dressed and then checked Mary’s room first, and then Catherine’s. While he was looking in the backroom, the telephone rang.

 

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