Simon knocked again, waited, then walked off in the direction of the lift. On his way he bumped into one of the younger conference members, Vincent – all muscles and stylish hair – who just happened to be leaving a female colleague’s room. “Still no luck with Barbara? Give up mate!” grinned Vincent, as he sauntered off to his own room. “How does he do it?” reflected Simon, suddenly feeling his 50 years. “Another conference, another notch on his belt. Wish I could be like him.”
“Good morning,” he said to a lady as she waited for the lift. “You’re at the Conference, right?”
“Yes,” smiled Audrey, as they stepped into the lift. Audrey was an elegant lady who had travelled from Leith, on the outskirts of Edinburgh, for this event. Simon had overheard her talking to another member in the bar the previous evening about her long journey down to London.
The lift had just started its descent when, all of a sudden, the lights flickered, dimmed, then went out, leaving the couple in the dark. The lift shuddered to a halt. Almost immediately the emergency lights came on. “Why have we stopped!” gasped Audrey, “what the heck is going on?”
“Not to worry,” replied Simon, “it must be a power cut. I’ll ring down and see what’s happening,” he said, pressing the emergency button.
3
Meanwhile, the power surge gave Hagatha the strength to continue her attack. Barbara, to her horror, found herself lifted from the floor and propelled into the bathroom, where she hit her forehead with almighty force. Blood started to run down her face and neck. “How can you be real?” she cried. “What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything. I’m here because you know about me. Invite any fears you have into the room – remember? I just obliged.”
“You are real, I’m sorry. Please leave me alone.”
“It’s too late for that now, my dear. I’ve already been summoned.”
Barbara tried to struggle to her feet; she grabbed at the shower curtain. It gave way under the pressure and she fell, backwards into the bath. Hagatha jumped on top of the by now hysterical Barbara, who tried desperately to fight her off. “HELP!” she screamed. Barbara knew that this was the end for her. Her final thoughts centred around Zoe.
“You harm her...”
“Somebody has got to pay for what Mather did – and it is her.” Hagatha’s face lit up with a ghostly, yellowy-blue glow. “You can’t kill the curse. The girls tried – and they didn’t succeed. It’s time for your heart to stop...”
4
After what seemed to be an eternity, the lift’s lights came on again, and the car continued its descent. Relieved, the trapped man and woman smiled at each other. “I thought we were going to die,” said Audrey. “Well, it certainly had me worried, I can tell yer,” answered Simon. “Care to join me for breakfast?”
Little did they know that the power coming back on marked the death of Barbara Wilson.
Barbara’s mutilated body was later found in the bath by the young porter who had earlier brought up her breakfast. He had come back to her room to collect the tray and, having knocked on the door a couple of times and got no reply, decided that she must have already left for the Conference. As he entered the suite, he could not believe the mayhem which opened up in front of him. Nothing could have prepared the man for what he was going to find.
A trail of blood led him into the bathroom where he found, to his horror, the badly disfigured body lying in the bath. There were red marks around the neck, and hollows where the eyes should have been. The young man was so traumatised by his discovery that waves of nausea overcame him; he covered his mouth and ran for help.
5
The police arrived within minutes of the hotel’s phone call and immediately locked down the whole floor. Detectives Fairway and Grain came out of the lift and approached a constable stationed outside the room. “What have we got?” asked Fairway. “The victim’s in the bathroom, sir,” replied the officer, trying not to look too queasy – this was his first murder case.
The detectives walked slowly into the suite, where they found the forensic team, already dressed in their white boiler suits, working on the crime scene. Fairway poked his head into the bathroom. There was blood everywhere. He was puzzled to see the outline of a small footprint on the blood-covered floor. He was even more puzzled to see an imprint of the other foot on the ceiling. The sight of the mutilated body, lying in such a grotesque position, made Fairway feel ill. He needed some air. He left Grain to start their investigations in the suite whilst he examined the corridor outside for clues.
Simon came out of the stairwell and tried to get to his room. “I’m sorry, sir,” said the policeman. “This area is sealed off for the time-being.”
“I’ll handle this,” interrupted Fairway. “Can I help you?”
“I’m at the Conference, and I’ve just popped back for some documents. What’s happened? Why are you all congregating in Barbara’s room?”
“You know her?”
“Yes. She’s a speaker at the Conference, but she never turned up this morning. We thought she was ill.”
“And you never considered checking if she was OK?”
“I did. I knocked a couple of times, just before the power cut.”
“Did you speak to the victim?”
“The victim? Why are you calling her a victim?”
“I’m sorry to say, sir, that Ms Wilson is dead.”
“Dead? How?”
“She was found earlier in the bathroom. Now; answer the question. Did you speak to her?” Simon slumped against the wall. “She didn’t answer the door.”
6
All the guests were questioned and had their fingerprints and DNA taken. Fairway thought that Simon could be a prime suspect but, upon further probing, it transpired that he had a good alibi. He had been using the hotel’s telephone for over an hour whilst he chatted to his mother who lived in Newcastle, and then he was trapped in the lift with Audrey.
This was not going to be an open and shut case.
39: Oh! Babs
1
Zoe was reduced to tears after hearing about Barbara’s death. She couldn’t get the tragic news out of her head. Who would want to kill Babs?
The police had extended their search beyond the hotel, the guests and staff and, whilst they knew that Zoe could not have had anything to do with the tragedy, they needed to discover as much as they could about Barbara and her trip to London.
“Are you sure that Barbara didn’t have any other business in London, apart from the Conference?” asked Fairway. Zoe shook her head. “She didn’t say. She just said she would be available if I needed a chat.”
“Did she have any enemies that you are aware of?”
“She’d had a stalker in Leeds.”
“A stalker? How serious did it get? Did she report him to the police?” asked Grain.
“Yes. He made her life a living hell. He was there all the time, watching from the shadows. It didn’t matter where she went; whether it was shopping, or out to dinner, he was there. He photographed her every move. Eventually, he was charged and banged up.”
“He was a tosser,” added Vana.
“Is he still in prison?”
“No. She said that he had recently been released.”
“How recent? Did she give a date?”
“Weeks, days – I don’t know; it was just a passing remark. He’s out now. That’s all she said. Until yesterday I hadn’t spoken to her for ages.”
“Thanks, we’ll be in touch – but if you do think of anything, no matter how minor, here’s my card.”
“How did she die?” asked Zoe.
“She was strangled,” replied Fairway.
2
“What I want to know is, who the heck told the police you were in hospital,” said Vana, turning on the television. Zoe looked at her, blankly. “I’d completely forgotten that,” she said. “You don’t think the old woman is still around, do you?”
“Yeah, hello, who else woul
d they think was your grandmother?”
“I wish I hadn’t made those stupid videos.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it, you weren’t to know,” said Vana. “What did you talk about with Babs?”
“Everything, I think.”
“What do you mean, you think?” Vana muted the television. “Well, I was hypnotised,” replied Zoe.
“Even so, you must remember something; think.”
“Just Babs saying, Invite the fear in. That’s all I can remember.”
“Bollocks. It sounds to me as if she’s deffo back... and she’s now killed both Helen and Barbara. Well, screw me, and call me Mary. Christ, what are we going to do? We have to get help.”
“Vana, you’re freakin’ me out,” said Zoe, running her fingers through her hair. “She can’t be back. We stopped the curse, remember? Anyway, where could we get help from?”
Vana thought for a while.
“I know. The library at Uni.”
3
Vana had just popped out for something to eat when Dr Reilly came to visit Zoe. He brought along with him a young American doctor, Dr Clementine, who was a nutritionist. She was a very pleasant, slimly built lady, in her early 30s, who had not been working in London for very long. She had followed her partner over from Chicago, Illinois, a year ago when he was appointed to head some drug trials at the hospital.
The two doctors spoke gently, but firmly and at some length, to Zoe as they tried to explain to her what the Anorexia was doing to her body. They both knew that this was difficult for Zoe, but needed her to understand the dangers. She’d heard it all before from Dr Smith and Dr Webster. However, this time it sounded different. She was no longer a 15 year old girl, but an adult.
Dr Clementine had worked on a nutritional programme for Zoe to take away when she was discharged. “Zoe, dear, I want you to remember that you are not alone. I’m only at the end of a telephone, or my computer. We all want to help you get through this.”
“Thank you,” said Zoe, as she wiped her eyes.
4
Vana called in at the hospital cafeteria and picked up an egg sandwich and a packet of cheese and onion crisps – her favourites. She then sat on a bench, overlooking a rose garden which was full of beautifully coloured blooms, and watched some elderly patients enjoying the last of the day’s sun. It was so peaceful, birds sang in the trees and the bees buzzed around fragrant flowers.
However, Vana was not relaxed for very long. Soon her thoughts went back to the deaths of Helen and Barbara, and she just wanted to call home and have a comforting chat with her own mum, who had not been too well recently.
5
Zoe was just finishing some soup when Vana returned, magazines in hand. “Everything OK?” she asked.
“Yep,” replied Zoe, “the doctors are so helpful, and Dr Clementine is so nice. Did you get something to eat?”
“A soggy egg sandwich – it was OK. But – I have some news!”
“What?”
“Well, I rang home and spoke to my mum about Helen, and...” Zoe sat up in bed. “Oh, how is your mum? Are her test results back?” Vana smiled. “Yes. She got the all clear; it was just a scare, thank God.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Anyway, back to the gossip. Helen’s murder is all over the news and in the local rags. They’re all saying the same – that it was a horrific crime, but no other details have been released yet. The poor dog-walker who found the bitch ended up in hospital – daft bugger, he had a heart attack.”
“Vana! What else did your mum say?”
“She’d keep me updated if she heard any more news.”
Zoe sighed. “This has got to be one of the worst weeks of my life.”
“It will get better, hun. You’ve just got to listen to what the doctors say, and do it. It’ll be tough, but I’m here for you.” Vana moved over to Zoe, and gave her a hug. “It’ll be alright. Now, let’s see if we can find Sky One on this.”
6
When Vana left for the night, Zoe spent some time flicking through celebrity gossip in the magazines. She didn’t know that she was under strict surveillance throughout the night – and not only from the nurses. A shadow person lurked in the darkness and watched her every move.
40: The road to recovery
1
The next morning, Saturday, and Vana was on her way to the hospital. It was a perfect day; the sun shone, the sky was blue, and there was just a slight breeze. All the passengers on the bus were complaining bitterly; despite Vana opening her window, the heat was unbearable. “I don’t know what’s worse – a hot, sticky, packed tube, or this,” grumbled Vana. “At least I’ve got a seat.”
An old lady with a blue perm got on the bus. She smiled at the driver, “Morning Bob – it’s certainly hot today,” she said, showing her bus pass. “I hope I’m not too early again?”
“No, you’re good; it’s Saturday.”
“Of course it is. I don’t know where my head’s been this week. Especially with this heat; I don’t know how they expect you to drive in these conditions.”
“That’s one of the downsides to this job – no air-con, but hey, it could be worse.”
The lady sat down next to Vana, who in turn removed her earplugs and smiled at her. “Hello, dear. What a superb day,” she said, pleasantly. “Wow! You’re brave,” said Vana, as she noticed the blue hair. “Oh sugar; I am so sorry,” she continued, apologetically. “Don’t be,” cackled the lady, “I’m getting used to it now. It’s a blue rinse gone wrong!”
“Well, it does – kinda – suit you.”
The lady giggled. “My hospitalised husband thinks he’s married to Marge Simpson.”
“Oh! Is he alright?”
“He is, now, thank you. He’s had an operation on his troublesome knee. It’s a blessing, really – I’m enjoying the peace and quiet.”
Vana smiled. She always managed to attract lonely old ladies who wanted to chat, but she didn’t mind. She had had many an interesting conversation during her travels.
The lady went on to reminisce about her time during the War when she was part of the Women’s Land Army. She had worked on a farm because the men had been called up to war, and she made Vana laugh when she told her about the first time she had milked a cow! The Land Army girls had their own song – Back to the Land, and the lady gaily sang a few bars of it to a slightly embarrassed Vana!
The journey went quickly, and the bus soon pulled in at the hospital. “Quick dear, let’s get off this bus before we faint,” said the lady, struggling to get up. “Don’t worry, I’m right with you,” chuckled Vana, as she helped the old dear off the bus.
The hospital was busy with the usual hustle and bustle of visitors looking for their relatives’ wards, children running around and toddlers screaming. A pale, gaunt-looking old man, wearing a blue and white robe, stood outside the main entrance, smoking. Vana and her new friend said their goodbyes, and wandered off to their respective wards.
2
Vana reached Zoe’s room just as Dr Reilly came out. She walked in and was pleased to see that, at last, her friend had a little colour in her cheeks – but it was obvious she’d been crying. “Hi hun. Sleep well?” she said, as she walked over to give Zoe a hug. Zoe smiled. “Kinda, I suppose – once I got used to the machines bleeping, and the horrible sensation of the needle pulling every time I tried to move.”
“Don’t!” said Vana, covering her mouth. “I’m feeling sick as it is.”
“You OK?”
“Yeah, the bus was just SO hot and crowded, and everyone was coughing and spluttering. Not a nice experience, that’s for sure. Still, I did meet a funny old lady who told me all about her time as a Land Girl in the War – and she sang to me!”
“You always attract them – I don’t know how you do it!”
“I know! I could write a book... Anyway, what did Dr Reilly say?”
“Not a lot really. But he said I might be able to go home today. He’s co
ming back later to let me know.”
The girls started to look through the papers Vana had brought in with her. “Hey, Vana, you’ve gotta see this,” said Zoe, pointing to an article about Helen’s and Barbara’s untimely deaths. “The police are linking them because of the similarities in the injuries – and, look, it’s the same as Ellwood described.”
“You’ve got to be pulling my shoelaces; let’s have a look.” Vana picked up the newspaper and was soon engrossed. “I don’t believe this. You know, I don’t think the curse has been broken. Remember, Zoe, she told the police you were here. It had to be her; the house was empty! And, besides, these murders are identical – it’s no co-incidence. She’s deffo killed them.” Zoe felt a tingling sensation shoot down her arms and into her feet; she started to sweat. “Why? Why would she kill them?”
“I don’t know, Zoe.” The girls looked at each other. “Can you think of anything else you talked to Babs about?”
“Vana, I don’t know if it’s the drugs, but my head feels that fried – I feel like a noob!”
“Come on, Zoe, I need you to think,” urged Vana.
“Why? What does it matter?”
“Well, it all seemed to kick off when you met up with her.”
“My mind’s blank!”
“OK, not to worry; we’ll forget it for now. But you know what I found weird yesterday when you collapsed?” said Vana, remembering her phone which she took out of her bag.
“No. What?”
“Well, here’s the spooky stuff. Where you fell was right outside Charles St Claire’s house.”
The Rattler (Rattler Trilogy Book 1) Page 16