by Helen Harper
Winter growled. ‘What kind of relationship?’
‘The kind where he thinks he can trust me,’ I shot back. ‘You need me, Winter. You can’t cut me loose.’
A tiny smile played around Winter’s lips. It was so fleeting that, once it was gone, I wondered whether I’d imagined it. ‘You’re asking to stay on and work?’
‘Yes! Not as a runner though. You should get me a different position. Maybe …’ I thought about it ‘…as a food tester. We’ve had dismemberment. Poison is the next natural step.’
‘Is it?’
‘It could be!’ I’d have kept on arguing with him but I had the feeling that I’d already won. Then a thought occurred to me. ‘Hang on,’ I said suspiciously. ‘Have you just been trying to manipulate me into staying?’
‘Of course not! I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing.’
I watched him. The spark suddenly gleaming in the depths of Winter’s eyes told me I was right: he wanted me around.
A miniature starburst of joy exploded in my chest. ‘Of course you wouldn’t,’ I said. I leaned in towards him with a serious expression. ‘I’m glad you have a reason to be on set now,’ I told him. ‘It’ll be good to be working close together again.’
Winter’s gaze met mine. ‘Yes,’ he replied with a ring of sincerity that made my toes curl. ‘It really will be.’
He finished his drink and gave me a little nudge. ‘You should toddle off. See if you can find this Gareth and learn more about what he discovered. The more details we can get first-hand about the murder, the better.’
I’d rather hoped that he was going to suggest we have a couple of drinks to celebrate the re-forming of our relationship but I should have known he’d want to stick to work. All the same, I was feeling more optimistic where Winter was concerned.
Wanting to show that I was prepared to listen to him and do as he asked – to an extent – I gave him a quick bob of my head and slid off the stool. I was halfway to the door when I turned round and caught a glimpse of him smiling to himself in the bar mirror. Boom.
***
I trudged back through the streets of Tomintoul towards my hotel, ignoring the curious looks I was getting from the locals – and the odd hissed comment. They’d probably all been delighted when they’d found out Enchantment was coming here but I’d bet Brutus’s tail that they thought differently now.
I couldn’t see any sign of Gareth and I didn’t know where to start looking. It would be a waste of breath to ask around for him, even if this were the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else. I knew that this lot would be taciturn and unwilling to point him out to me. I had to find someone who was still dazzled by Enchantment and not put off by the grisly goings-on. Teenagers.
‘If I were fifteen years old,’ I muttered to myself, ‘where would I hang out?’ Bike sheds seem somewhat passé these days. No doubt there would be some kids hanging around the hotel, hoping for a glimpse of someone famous but I didn’t want any of the crew catching sight of what I was up to.
I had to think laterally. It was coming up for six o’clock, so school was out of the question. I doubted there would be a handy skate park around here – but there was a sign for a leisure centre nearby. I shrugged: it seemed as good a place as any. And it was only round the corner. I wanted to please Winter but I did have limits – and I hadn’t been lying to Amy about those damned blisters.
Fortunately, I was in luck. As soon as the leisure centre came into view, a pair of boys on bikes rode by. Concentrating, I threw out a quick rune, causing the chain on the lead bike to come undone. It wasn’t one of my best ideas – the kid on the bike behind collided with his mate with a loud clunk of metal and an even louder curse. Oops.
I darted over to help them. ‘Are you alright?’
‘Fine,’ the first one muttered from where he was entangled with his bike.
Good. I didn’t want to have to mess around with putting the chain back on for him.
He extricated his feet from the bike’s frame and pulled himself up. ‘You idiot,’ he hissed to his friend.
‘It’s not my fault, Al. You’re the one who stopped.’
‘Because my bleeding chain came off, didn’t it?’
Both boys realised I was watching them and glared. ‘Why are you still here?’
I held up my hands. ‘I thought you might need some help.’ I paused. ‘I don’t know much about bicycles but I helped fix the axle on one of the camera equipment trucks last week and they can’t be that different.’
My oh-so-subtle hint did the trick. The second boy’s eyes widened. ‘You’re with Enchantment.’
I clapped my hand over my mouth and looked guilty. ‘I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Pretend you didn’t hear me.’ I started walking away.
‘Wait!’
I grinned to myself and turned slowly. ‘Yes?’
‘What do you do for Enchantment? Do you know Belinda? Did you see the dead body? Was there a lot of blood?’
The questions came so thick and fast I didn’t know which one to answer first. ‘Er … I shouldn’t say anything. It’s a closed set and we’re not supposed to talk to the public about what’s going on.’
‘We won’t tell anyone,’ Al said slyly.
‘Yeah,’ added his mate. ‘Tell us about Belinda. She’s hot.’
She was also old enough to be their grandmother. ‘Between you and me,’ I said, ‘she’s a bit worked up about the murder and what happened this afternoon. She likes to get a handle on things, you know? The police won’t talk to her about the death and she feels she can’t settle until she knows all the details.’
The boys exchanged looks. ‘We know who found the body,’ the one called Al said.
His friend nudged him knowingly. ‘Yeah. Al knows him real well.’
Al snorted. ‘Not through choice. He’s loony tunes. She’d do better to stay away from him.’
‘Who is he?’
‘Gareth.’ The other boy smirked slyly at his friend. ‘McAllan. He lives at Glen Bart Farm.’
‘She won’t find him there though,’ Al added. ‘He’s not been back home since it happened.’ He gave a derisive snort. ‘Baby.’
It was easy to judge when you were a kid and you hadn’t seen what Gareth had seen. ‘So where is he then?’
A calculating expression crossed Al’s eyes. ‘Buy us a pack of fags and we’ll tell you.’
‘Smoking’s bad for you.’
‘Not as bad as working for a television company where everyone keeps dying.’ The spotty one had a point.
I shrugged. ‘Okay.’
‘Fags first. Then we’ll tell you.’
Arse. These two were smarter than they made out. I nodded in agreement and they directed me towards the nearest corner shop, although they kept out of sight. I had the feeling that the shopkeeper was probably wise to their tricks.
Buying the first packet I saw, I handed over a crumpled ten-pound note and marvelled at the cost. Then I palmed the packet and went back outside again, finding the boys scuffing a nearby wall. I held up the packet. ‘Here you go. You have to tell me where I can find Gareth before I hand it over though. Belinda will be really keen to meet him.’
‘Back there.’ Al jerked his head at the leisure centre. ‘He’s in the gym. Thinks if he bulks up he’ll be in with the ladies. As if.’
Gareth hadn’t struck me as the kind of person who enjoyed a good workout. I shuddered slightly. Even the mention of the word brought me out in hives. It was also somewhat galling that he was so close; I could probably have found him without the dubious help of these two.
‘Thanks,’ I beamed. Then, before either of them could reach for the cigarettes, I drew a rune and set the whole packet ablaze. ‘Up in smoke,’ I said sadly.
‘You…’ Al stared at me like I’d just killed his puppy.
I shrugged. ‘It really is bad for you. You should get a new hobby.’
He lunged for me but his friend grabbed him and held him back. ‘L
eave it be. She’s obviously some kind of witch.’
Something flashed in his eyes. ‘No wonder she’s so ugly. Do you ride a broomstick? Will you turn us into frogs?’
I smiled. ‘No. But I will tell your parents if you don’t piss off.’
I received identical glares of vicious hatred. I raised my hand as if to draw out another rune, however, and they got the message quickly enough, taking their bikes and sloping off with only a few scowls over their shoulders in my direction. They’d get over it. One day they might even thank me. I watched them go then turned round. Gareth was waiting.
Chapter Eight
My unhappy confidants hadn’t been lying. Gareth was indeed in the gym, heaving a barbell even though the pallor of his skin suggested he might do better to lie down for a week or two. He certainly didn’t look like he was having fun.
‘Hey!’
He jerked in shock and almost lost his grip on the weight.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’
‘You’re looking for me? How did you know I was here?’
‘Some kids outside.’ Gareth flinched. I pretended not to notice. Teenage boys like Al and his buddy could be intimidating but neither of us needed to admit it out loud. ‘How are you doing?’
He put the barbell down and looked at me woefully. ‘Great. Just great. I can’t sleep no matter how much alcohol I throw down my throat. All I can think about every time I close my eyes is,’ he glanced around in case anyone was listening, ‘well, you know. I can’t eat because every time I smell food I want to throw up. And all I get are people wanting to hear the grisly details. Vultures.’
Ah. It was unfortunate that I would be classed in that category. For the right reasons though, I comforted myself. I sat down on a bench next to him. ‘I’m really sorry to hear that. Maybe it would help to talk about it. If you got it off your chest, it might make you feel better.’
He flicked a dribble of sweat from his forehead. ‘Why are you here? Don’t tell me it’s to work out.’
I sighed. Sometimes the truth is the only way out. ‘There’s been another incident on set,’ I told him. ‘I don’t think anyone has died but there’s a lot of blood. The police are doing their best but I can’t help thinking that magic has to be involved somehow.’ I met his eyes. ‘I’m here because I’m a witch. I’m not with the Order or anything like that but I think I can help with the investigation. Whoever did that to Benjamin Albert will probably try again with someone else. You don’t just dismember someone then walk away and forget about it. The police won’t let any witches into the investigation but the fact it involved a contestant on a magic show…’
My voice trailed away. There wasn’t any real evidence that magic was involved, regardless of what the Ipsissimus had told me about secondary sources. But it still seemed very plausible. This was no ordinary killing.
‘I want to stop it from happening again, Gareth, and if you tell me what you saw then I might be able to do just that. I can look at it from a fresh perspective. And,’ I added, ‘I really do think that talking about it will help.’
Gareth watched me for a long moment. ‘I believe you,’ he said finally.
‘That’s because I’m telling the truth. Look, I wasn’t lying before when I said I know a little about what you’re going through. My experience was wholly different to yours and far less brutal, but it still took me a long while before I could get it out of my head. Even if you won’t talk to me, you should talk to someone. You need professional help.’
His head dropped. ‘The police gave me a number for Victim Support but they also interrogated me as if they thought I’d done it. Ripped someone apart.’ He squeezed his eyes shut. ‘No one with a soul could do that to another human being.’
I waited. The music piped into the gym changed to an upbeat number, no doubt to fool people into believing that working out was fun. It didn’t seem to be doing much for Gareth. For a long moment he didn’t say anything. He didn’t even move. Then he grabbed a small towel, wiped his face and looked up at me.
‘What do you want to know?’ he asked quietly.
I didn’t smile because this wasn’t a cause for celebration. Regardless of the reason I was here, my heart still went out to him. I touched his arm gently to show that I appreciated what he was doing and kept my voice quiet. ‘How did you find the body?’
‘I work at Glen Bart farm. One of the sheep had escaped from a field so I went to try and find it.’
A sheep. I couldn’t help wondering if it was the same one that had bled out in Bellows’ trailer. I kept my mouth shut though, and gave him a small encouraging nod.
‘There was a trail. I’m no tracker, but there were marks made by some shoes that didn’t look like they matched those of anyone else from Glen Bart.’ At my questioning glance, Gareth elaborated further. ‘We all wear wellies or steel-capped boots. These looked…’ He shrugged. ‘I dunno. Smart.’
‘You could tell that from the footprints?’
‘It had been raining so there was quite a lot of mud. One of the prints had a logo on it. Some kind of weird squiggle.’ He stood up and walked to a nearby mirror, then breathed on it before drawing the logo in the steam. I squinted. It looked oddly familiar but I couldn’t place it. ‘We’ve had quite a few problems in the past with sheep rustling. Only one animal seemed to be missing but that didn’t mean whoever took it wouldn’t be back for more.’
‘Sheep rustling? That’s still a thing?’
‘You’d be surprised,’ he answered grimly. ‘Anyway, I tracked the footprints for a mile or so up an embankment and onto Dead Man’s Hill. It’s called that because it’s not far from the cemetery.’ His expression took on a morose cast. ‘Or that used to be the reason.’ He sighed heavily. ‘The first thing I saw didn’t make any sense. I thought it was a stick at first. But when I got closer there were some … bits attached to it.’ He looked green. ‘Flesh,’ he whispered. ‘Blood. I think it was a rib. I still didn’t have any reason to believe it was human. In fact, I wondered if a dog might have got hold of the sheep somehow. Old man Jones at the other end of town has a bloody husky which … never mind.’
I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear any more but I’d promised Winter. ‘So you kept on going?’ I asked.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I wish to God I hadn’t. I really do. It wasn’t much further before there was more blood. A lot more blood. When I saw the hand, I knew for sure that this wasn’t about the sheep.’
I swallowed. ‘It was … dismembered?’
‘And chewed. At least three of the fingers had definite bite marks.’ He looked at me. ‘They didn’t look like they’d been caused by an animal.’
‘You think they were human?’
He was so quiet I had to strain to hear him. ‘I do.’ His voice cracked. ‘Just beyond the hand there was a head. The eyes…’ He shook his head, the horror too great to put into words. ‘And the smell was horrific. I’ve dealt with dead animals before, it comes as part of my job. But this was something different. It feels like the reek of it is still caught in my nostrils. Decaying and sickly sweet.’ He stared at me. ‘I don’t know if it will ever go away.’
That was interesting. I knew from the files that Benjamin Alberts had been missing for less than five hours before his body was discovered. Even with the little I knew about forensic pathology, it didn’t seem possible that he could have already smelled that badly. Unless Gareth had magnified it in his mind because of the trauma of what he’d seen.
‘For a second, I couldn’t move,’ he told me. ‘It felt like an hour but it was probably only a minute or two. Then I turned and ran back down to the farm and called the police. They did the rest.’
‘I’m so sorry it was you who found him,’ I said softly.
He avoided my gaze. ‘I keep thinking I shouldn’t be feeling like this. After all, I’m fine. I didn’t get hurt. I didn’t know the guy who was killed.’ He pressed the base of his palms against his temples as if he could
drive out the images of what he’d seen by sheer physical force. ‘But I can’t get it out of my head. It’s always there. I don’t know what to do. Can’t you help me? If you’re a witch, maybe you can make me forget. There must be some potion or herbs you can give me which will make all this go away.’
There were certainly herbs that could dull the sensation of memory. They were a weak salve at best, however; once they wore off, the returning trauma was often worse than before. And runes wouldn’t help. Not here.
‘There’s no magic spell,’ I told him honestly. ‘But I do know someone who might be able to help. Just give me a few moments.’
I slid my phone out of my pocket and stepped away from him. There was a heaving grunt from a man straining to lift a set of weights so I moved further towards the door.
‘Hey Iqbal,’ I said, once he answered.
‘Ivy, baby! How’s it hanging?’
‘Not too bad. How’s that thesis?’
He sounded smug. ‘I’ve managed to get an extension. I told my supervisor that my grandmother had died.’
‘Didn’t she pass away a few years ago?’
‘You’re thinking of the time I skipped lectures for a fortnight and told everyone she’d been attacked by a shark while surfing in Australia. She’s still very much alive. More’s the pity. She keeps trying to throw girls my way. She can’t wait for me to settle down and have a gazillion kids. And she makes me wear these horrid knitted jumpers all year round. I swear she must think I’m ten-stone heavier than I am. They’re always massive. And I reckon she makes a special effort to buy wool that is specially itchy.’
‘How terrible for you.’
‘I know, right?’ I could almost hear him grinning. ‘Anyway, I’m going to assume because of the late hour that this is not a social call. You want my help again, right?’
‘I do. Not for myself this time, though, so no karaoke requests.’
‘But the last one went so well! If it hadn’t been for that night, you and sexy Raphael Winter would never have got it together. How is he doing? Have you set a date yet?’