The Rattler (Rattler Trilogy Book 1)

by P. A. Fielding

  “It’s alright, Zoe. There’s no proof that she murdered them,” said Vana.

  “Murder? Who’s been committing murder?” interrupted a concerned Sally. To say she was feeling out of it was an understatement. Something, or someone, was giving off negative energy which was clouding her state of mind. However, still believing it was her low blood sugars, she indulged in a couple of chocolate cookies – whilst the girls ignored her questions.

  “Vana, we both know that’s a lie,” said Zoe, who started to cry. With a tissue in hand, she pointed to the door. “Who’s that in there?”

  “Reverend Clintwell, the new vicar from St Stephens, Oxford – and by the way, he’s fit! Deffo got a look of Brad Pitt.”

  “Vana...”

  “Can you please tell me who’s going around killing people?” interrupted Sally again, finally returning to her normal self.

  Vana kept it brief, and brought Sally up-to-date. Her response was, “I find it all a little bit hard to believe.” A subdued Zoe sat at the table, head in hands. “Anyway,” Sally continued, “let’s not keep our guest waiting. Carry this in for me, Zoe.” Zoe dried her eyes before picking up the tray of tea and milk.

  The trio entered the lounge where Reverend Clintwell sat waiting, patiently. Vana wasn’t wrong, but he certainly was not Brad Pitt, well, maybe across the eyes, but he was ginger! He was probably late 20s, early 30s, and was still trying to hang onto his youthful good looks by colouring the first batch of grey hairs. He got up to greet them. “This is Zoe, and her great Aunt Sally,” said Vana, as she made the introductions.

  “Nice to meet you both.”

  “Cream tea, vicar?” asked Sally, offering him a scone. “Thank you.” Zoe just sat there, and listened as they chatted about the Mather family and the demise of Reverend Carmichael. Clintwell failed to mention the strange feeling he got upon entering the house.

  He took out the old, string wrapped, leather-bound journal from his satchel. “Having read about your visit in this journal, I think what is happening is very real. I do believe that there is an evil spirit at work. Reverend Carmichael made reference to it on a page about one Mr Ellwood – dated 20th May 1900.” Sally’s ears pricked up.

  “Your family moving here has certainly sparked things up somewhat. My former colleague mentioned that the traveller woman possibly had something belonging to her in this house. Did you find it?” Vana glanced at Zoe. “We found some bloodied gloves.”

  “Can I see them?”

  “We left them in the sink after...” she stuttered, “after we got freaked out. They weren’t there this morning.”

  “They’re her only connection to this house. I suggest you find and destroy them, using Ellwood’s instructions.”

  3

  It was only when Clintwell was getting ready to depart that two photographs fell from the journal. They were a picture of the children, Violet and William, and one of Frederick and Annie.

  “Can I see them?” asked Sally.

  “Yes, of course. I should have shown you them earlier,” he replied. Sally stared at the pictures before reading the inscriptions on the back. Violet and William Mather and Frederick and Annie Mather. A tear ran down her face. “Could I keep them? I don’t have many photographs.”

  “Yes, by all means – there doesn’t seem a reason for me to keep hold of them.”

  4

  Aunt Sally wasn’t too disappointed with Zoe and Vana withholding information; her only comment was, “you girls should have told me the full story. I might not have believed you – but, nevertheless, you should have told me. Now, what are our plans for tonight?”

  49: Boys, boys, boys

  1

  Saturday morning, 29th October – auction day. Everyone crowded around the kitchen table, and Aunt Sally was making pancakes. “That’s your lot, James,” she said, placing a large pancake in front of his beady eyes. Zoe’s phone beeped; it was a message from Vana; Are you sure I can stay?

  “Mum, are you sure it’s alright for Vana to stay for a few days?”

  “Of course, there’s plenty of room. She can stay for as long as she wants. If you ask me, she needs a break from that boy.”

  “Thanks, mum,” she replied, texting Vana the good news. The last month had seen things go from bad to worse with Matthew and Vana. The fact that they shared a house had not helped matters – there’s just no escapism in a small terraced house. Breaking point came when she caught him checking her phone for messages. He had become slightly obsessive over her in recent weeks, which wasn’t a good thing.

  2

  3.32 pm – the bell rang. Zoe got up from the sofa to answer the door to find a water-drenched Vana; her black mascara had run down her cheeks, eyes were red-raw, and her fringe was doing its best to cover a black eye. Zoe knew that the weather wasn’t totally responsible for this new look.

  “Oh my God! Come in hun,” said Zoe, giving her a hug. Vana’s sore eyes glanced round the hallway. “Where is everyone?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  “Aunt Sally’s in the lounge; everyone else has gone out shopping. Let’s get these bags upstairs,” said Zoe, as she hung Vana’s jacket on the peg. Vana wasn’t her normal bubbly self as she slowly climbed the stairs. Zoe pushed opened the bathroom door and turned on the shower.

  “I’ll unpack – you take a hot shower.”

  “Thank you,” Vana mouthed, as she headed into the steamy bathroom. Vana gradually lost her worries as the hot water ran over her sores. Her back had a huge purple bruise which started just above her left hip and spread towards the shoulder blade. There she stayed fixated in time.

  3

  Zoe checked on her aunt on the way to the washing machine with Vana’s drenched clothes.

  “How is she?”

  “She’s taking a shower.”

  “That’s good. I’ve just ordered your pizza. We’ll have to leave about 5.30 to be on time for the auction.”

  “Thanks. Hopefully that should cheer her up,” said Zoe thoughtfully. “I think Matthew’s hit her.”

  “The poor lass.”

  “I’ll try and hide it with make-up.”

  “I won’t draw attention to it, dear. It’ll just make her feel ten times worse. That boy...”

  “I know.”

  4

  The pizza arrived and was duly eaten. Vana just sat in her own little world, eating slowly. The flavours did their best to cheer her up upon hitting the palate – but the pizza just didn’t taste the same.

  The trio arrived on time for the auction at Sotheby’s, and were greeted by Kyle Roth, who led them to four reserved seats. “Let’s hope the right bidders are in the room,” said Kyle.

  “My fingers are firmly crossed, but I’ll be happy if they only make three-quarters of their estimate,” smiled Sally.

  “I’m sure they’ll prove to be very popular,” said Kyle.

  With catalogues in hand, they sat down on the plush chairs. The room was packed with bidders, who were all hoping to walk away with prized antiques and collectables. The crowd consisted mainly of smartly dressed, well-to-do people, including, of course, one or two celebrities dotted around the room.

  “Isn’t that the football pundit from the telly,” said Vana, pointing discreetly.

  “Yep. Teddy Carr,” replied Zoe. The former footballer had made his name playing for his home-town team, Bristol City, before ending his career at Fulham. Although he had put on a few pounds since retiring in the mid-90s he still attracted the ladies’ attention. He mimicked James Bond as he stood against the wall, modelling a tailored black tuxedo, and wearing a Rolex Submariner on his wrist.

  The auctioneer – a grey-haired man, wearing a grey suit and navy tie – arrived, to be greeted by a short round of applause. Without delay, the auction began. The paintings were to be sold in separate lots, with only three paintings per auction – so as not to flood the market. A couple of lots later, and Aunt Sally was feeling the heat. “I hope it’s not much longer,” she said, fanning her
face with the programme. Zoe scanned the list until her finger reached three hand-drawn stars highlighting the paintings. “Not long to go now,” she replied, with excitement plastered over her face.

  5

  Three ushers entered behind the auctioneer, each holding a Charles St Claire. “Finally,” remarked Sally. “We now have the first of three lots by the renowned artist, Charles St Claire,” said the auctioneer. The crowd marvelled at the three paintings. “Lot 36 – a delightful painting of Bristol Harbour, incorporating the River Avon. I have to start the bidding, with me, at £250,000.”

  Zoe put her arm round Vana, and Sally gently nudged Kyle, who smiled. The bidding rollercoaster began with hands flying up all around the room. Sally and Zoe could not stop smiling as the bidding unfolded, and their excitement rubbed off on Vana. The figure kept on rising until it reached £470,000 – sold to Teddy Carr.

  “Wow!” said Zoe.

  “That’s a lot of cash,” Vana added.

  “Thank you, Kyle.”

  “You’re welcome, Sally. That’s just the start – I know Mr Carr is desperate to land these paintings,” replied Kyle.

  The auctioneer wasted no time. “Lot 37 – Clifton Suspension Bridge, Bristol. I have to start the bidding, with me, at £125,000.” The work of art was a small, desirable painting of the Avon Gorge. A flurry of raised catalogues soon dominated the girls’ eye-lines. The painting finally sold for £325,000, again to a delighted Teddy Carr.

  “The final Charles St Claire, lot 38 – Bristol Temple Meads Railway Station. I have to start off with me, at £175,000.” The same bidders once again went to war, but there was only going to be one winner. As the wives of Carr’s competitors gently showed their displeasure at the crazy figures, bidding finally concluded at £225,000, with Teddy once more the winner.

  With the paintings sold, the quartet moved towards the exit. Kyle said his goodbyes. “Right, that’s my work done for today. What a fab result! I’ll be in touch,” he remarked, as he left the building. With the three paintings making just over a cool million, it meant that, after fees, Sally walked away with £642,600.

  6

  “All this excitement has made me desperate for a pee,” said Vana. “I’ll join you,” replied Zoe. Sally gave them both a hug. “Thank you for making me feel whole again. Right, I’ll go and get us a taxi.” The girls didn’t really know what she meant, but she was obviously happy. Vana could not wait a further minute; she was ready to burst! She charged into the toilets and found an empty cubicle. Zoe started to refresh her make-up in the mirror.

  “Vana, please tell me what happened.” There was a moment of silence. “All I’ll say is...” she stopped, hesitantly, “he’s not the same since that night. Can we just leave it be; I don’t want the thought of him to ruin our evening. Let’s just enjoy tonight, please.”

  “Enough said.”

  The main door opened and a lady walked in.

  “Zoe, you still here?” asked Vana.

  “Yep.”

  “You know, I can’t fuckin’ believe they made over a million!” Zoe smiled at the woman, and mouthed sorry, but that remark gave her hope that the old Vana was returning.

  7

  9.48 pm – Sally was tucked-up in bed, reading. On the dresser were three white envelopes, addressed to Zoe, James, and Vana, each containing cheques. They didn’t contain a vast amount of money, but just enough to say thank you. She planned on setting up trust accounts for them all once the remainder of the paintings had been sold.

  Downstairs, Jim and Zoe were playing on the PlayStation, Mary reading a magazine, and James asleep in the armchair.

  “Where’s Vana?” asked Mary.

  “She went up to the bathroom. I’ll go and check to see if she’s alright. You don’t mind do you, dad?”

  “No; I’ll never beat that time away!”

  “I won’t be long.”

  She jogged up the stairs, stopped, and crept into her bedroom. Vana was asleep on the bed. Zoe soon noticed mascara tears on Vana’s cheeks as she gently tucked in the duvet.

  “That you, Zoe?” called Sally.

  “Yes,” whispered Zoe, entering Sally’s room. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, you’re alright dear. Vana OK?”

  “Yes, she’s taking a nap,” she replied as she walked out of the room and down the stairs.

  A moment later, the landing light gently flickered and a dark shadow moved quickly down the stairs and into Zoe’s bedroom. The shadow materialised into Charder. He placed his left hand over Vana’s feet before it hovered above her belly. After a brief pause he touched her face gently, making her fringe move.

  8

  11.03 pm – Central London. Teddy Carr came out of a lively bar and walked across the street towards a grey Aston Martin DBS. He unlocked the car and got in. He swiftly undid his black bow tie, checked his face in the vanity mirror, and rubbed away red lipstick from his mouth and cheeks. Popping a mint into his mouth, he placed his iPhone on the dashboard.

  “FaceTime, wife,” he said. His video image appeared on the bottom left-hand corner of the phone and it wasn’t long before his wife, an attractive thirty-something blonde, lit up the screen.

  “Hello,” said a tired voice.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I love?”

  “No,” she lied, “I’ve just got the twins off to sleep. Did you win them?”

  “Yes – they’re in the boot. I’m just on my way home,” he replied; he couldn’t stop smiling. His wife started to squint. She stared over his left shoulder.

  “Who’s that with you?”

  “No-one. I’m on my own; why?” he replied, with a puzzled expression.

  “Then who’s that old, tatty-looking woman on the back seat?”

  THE END

  Extract from Unleashed

  Lucy

  Lucy is an Oxford history student who studies at Balliol College by day and works as an emergency operator three nights a week. She loves the job, but studying always comes first, and that applies with her social life too; she knows she can’t afford to mess-up her graduate studies. She is well liked throughout the campus, but, as Vana says, ‘She’s also a swat, but she’s useful.’ Nevertheless, the girl is hiding a secret. A secret she hasn’t shared with anyone, not even her best mate, Jake. However, that is all about to change following Teddy Carr’s emergency call, and her life, as she knew it, would be transformed forever.

  Detective Fairway soon links Teddy’s accident to the Savoy Murderer. A manhunt starts, but even Fairway couldn’t be prepared for the bloodshed that was about to be unleashed. And, when Lucy’s secret is exposed and taken advantage of by Hagatha, she is soon dragged into the dark world of the Mather Curse – along with Zoe and Vana – with disastrous consequences for them all.

  Will the girls survive a night of torment at the hands of Hagatha? The scene is set – for Halloween.

  Prologue: Back-Seat driver

  1

  Saturday 29th October 2011, London, England. It’s 11.19 pm. The Aston Martin turned sharply to the right, then the left. The headlights caught a glimpse of a fox running furtively across the road and into a hedge. Teddy Carr struggled for breath as Hagatha’s hands gripped tightly around his neck. With his left hand on the steering wheel, and the other trying to release his assailant’s cold iron grip, he struggled to control the car. Twenty seconds into the torture he finally gasped, “Who are you? Who hired you?” Hagatha said nothing. Instead, she took hold of his right hand and crushed it. He felt the bones in his fingers snap. He bit the inside of his mouth; blood flowed down his chin. His eyes began to water. “You, bitch! You fucking bitch!” He coughed as her cold, black eyes stared at him through the rear-view mirror. Teddy soon started to lose consciousness. His limp right hand stretched weakly for the wheel, his finger-tips trying desperately to gain a hold on the warm, black leather. They got a grip. The car spun violently, clipped a telegraph pole, and rolled over and over again until it stopped in a water-filled ditch.
The shock of the impact quickly brought him back to reality. “Shit, that wasn’t fun,” he mumbled.

  Teddy knew he had broken his right collar bone as the white serrated edge, mimicking a shark fin, poked through the soft flesh. The Aston was a write-off. His eyes scanned what remained of the car. Hagatha was gone. He pushed back the inflated airbags. “Bitch! You whore!” He winced as he reached for his seat-belt release button. “Fucking bitch!” he yelled, as he released the belt. Pain had taken over his body. Blood was now flowing freely down his right arm; he had a cut above his left eye, and red marks around his neck. He took a deep breath, but that only amplified the pain. He again bit down on the inside of his cheek, and reached out for his iPhone from the centre console. The screen was smashed. He slid the unlock key and dialled 999. He waited.

  2

  999 Call Centre, Kidlington, Oxford. The Operations Room was large and open-plan, containing banks of desks and computers. Some fifty staff were either working on computers, or counselling desperate Londoners who were seeking assistance. Lucy, a stunning red-head, wearing jeans and a hoodie, wandered casually out of a small kitchen with a full coffee mug in her hand. These days Civil Servants weren’t tied to normal office attire due to non-contact with members of the public. This meant that things were far more relaxed than they used to be. In fact, the only day Lucy had dressed smartly to work was the day of her interview, and to hear her prospective boss tell her that she could wear casual clothes made her smile. She hated formalities and rules and restrictions, whether it was wearing a school uniform or being suited and booted. Therefore, for Lucy, that meant one thing; ‘It’s my dream job! Jeans to work? Yes, please! Where do I sign?’

  On the way back to her desk, she paused briefly to flick a wispy fringe away from her face, but this was merely a distraction, as she used the hand to hide her blushes. She had, once again, caught the attention of her red-blooded male colleagues, who watched her like a hawk, as she walked across the room. As Vana’s boyfriend, Matthew, once said, ‘She’d be hot if she lost the glasses’ – and he wasn’t wrong! She sat down at her desk, placed the mug down and plugged in her headset. Lucy worked three nights a week – Saturday, Sunday and Wednesday. She didn’t come from a rich family, nor did she receive a huge student grant – that only just about covered her tuition fees – therefore her living costs had to be covered by working. “Just another half-an-hour to go!” she said, looking at her watch. The time was 11.30 pm. Suddenly her screen flashed; she answered the call. “Hello? What’s your emergency?” she asked as she opened a call log screen. Teddy inhaled, and instantly a prickly sensation travelled up his windpipe. “My name’s Teddy Carr,” he stuttered. He swallowed hard. “I’ve had an accident ... I’ve rolled my car on Tree Lane, London. I need an ambulance and police, urgently.”