I didn’t like his use of the word ‘long’. It implied that I’d been away for longer than expected.
‘Not really. I saw a fair bit of the island. The other beach, the forest, the—’
‘Research centre?’ The way he finished my sentence caught me by surprise and unsettled me. I’d already decided that it was pointless to lie about the place. Given how long I’d been away, it was unlikely that I’d missed it.
‘Er, yes. Yes, I did. Didn’t you say that there were no other buildings on the island?’ There was a waver in my voice. I prayed it betrayed no nervousness.
‘To be honest, it slipped my mind. I don’t go to that side of the island, you see. I had a look around when I first came here but there’s nothing of any real interest there.’
‘I see.’
Mather remained calm, and was almost convincing. But he was probably used to dealing with the subject by now, and had planned his story, his excuses.
‘It’s no longer in use, of course,’ he said. ‘It was shut down years ago due to lack of funding.’
‘I see.’ Acrobats were performing in my stomach. You liar, I thought. You’ve been near it all right. And I know exactly what you’ve been doing in there. I’m going to make sure the rest of the world knows too.
Mather cast me a meaningful look. It was as though in the mere seconds his eyes had been boring into mine, he had read my thoughts and understood my intent. ‘So did you . . . take a look inside?’
‘No.’ Damn. I said it far too quickly. Mather looked at me with one raised, enquiring eyebrow.
‘No, I didn’t,’ I said after a pause. ‘It didn’t look too safe. I had a look around outside though.’
‘Right.’ Mather glanced casually out of the window, a slight smile remaining on his face. ‘You know, thinking about it, you might actually find what’s inside rather intriguing.’
‘Really?’ I tried to appear surprised. ‘Why’s that?’
‘Well, apparently, before the centre was closed down a lot of interesting work was done there.’
Yes, and a lot more work’s been done since it closed too!
‘. . . at all?’
‘Sorry?’ I’d been listening too much to my own thoughts to hear the question.
Mather smiled. He seemed amused by my behaviour. ‘I asked if you were interested in marine life?’
‘Oh. Well, not particularly. Although I have written a few stories for the magazine about fish. Nothing really important though.’
‘I see. Well, I think,’ he said, getting to his feet, ‘you would find the centre quite fascinating. Why don’t we take a quick walk over there now before we head back to the mainland? It’ll only take few minutes.’
I looked up at him, a weak smile on my face, trying to think quickly. I could have said no. I could have said that I was eager to get back home, that I had a lot of work to do. But what then? Would he decide he had no other option but to murder me on the spot?
‘Yes, OK,’ I said, almost without thinking. I had to say something, and I don’t think I ultimately had the guts to say no. If Mather was indeed playing games with me, then I had to play along with him. My survival depended on it. ‘I suppose it can’t hurt,’ I said, affecting another fake smile.
‘Splendid. It shouldn’t take long.’
I wondered if he was actually enjoying himself. He walked off towards the kitchen while I desperately tried to think ahead. His plan must have been to either kill or incapacitate me, depending on what end he had in mind for me. If I was to gain the upper hand, I’d have to strike before we got to the building. But what could I do? Bash him over the head with a log? Push him into the lake? I didn’t know if I had it in me to do either.
He came back into the room wearing a blue waterproof jacket. I stood up.
‘Right,’ Mather said. ‘Shall we be off?’ He clapped his hands and walked to the front door. I picked up my bag and camera and followed.
‘Oh, just a second.’ I remembered the Dictaphone and picked it up off the arm of the chair. When I rejoined Mather he was wearing an amused smile.
‘Mustn’t forget that,’ he said, stepping outside.
‘No, we mustn’t,’ I replied, following.
As I crossed the threshold I heard a strange voice.
Don’t turn your back.
I thought it was a woman’s voice, though it sounded distorted, like a really bad radio transmission. I looked at Mather, who was standing by the path. He was waiting patiently, and showed no signs of having heard the sound. He started to look at me quizzically, wondering, no doubt, why I was hesitating.
Do not turn your back on him!
This time the voice was louder and clearer than before, and it felt as if it was inside my head. But it didn’t seem like a thought; it was as if someone – or something – was communicating with me. Mather looked as though he was about to do something, suspecting perhaps that I was up to no good. I pre-empted him.
‘Sorry,’ I said, walking over. ‘I thought for a minute that it had started to rain.’ Thankfully the sky overhead was now grey, reinforcing my story.
Mather looked up. ‘Mmm. Yes, we shall have to take care. Still, I don’t think it’s going to be as bad as yesterday.’ With that, he turned and trudged off along the path.
I hesitated briefly, waiting for another warning, but whoever or whatever had spoken to me was now silent. I followed Mather’s footsteps into the trees, happy at least that he had his back to me, and not the other way round.
VIII: TREPIDATION
Mather seemed quite content to walk on ahead. Perhaps he saw no threat, even though he was giving me an opportunity to attack him. I lacked the courage to take drastic action right then, but what made it even harder was the fact that he seemed so infuriatingly sure of himself. I was convinced that he knew I’d been in the basement. So why was he so unafraid? Why wasn’t he on his guard?
As we passed the second beach, I saw him cast a quick glance towards the boathouse. Maybe he did it on purpose, just to taunt me, maybe not – it was hard to tell, but I tried to keep myself calm and focused.
‘I do hope you’ll have enough material for your story,’ Mather remarked as we approached the gate. ‘I’d hate to think that I’d wasted your time. The Lady is an incredible specimen, but I sometimes wonder if I’m worthy of representing her, if you take my meaning.’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ I replied. ‘You’ve done an excellent job. I can’t see how anyone could fail to be impressed.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ he said, reaching round one side of the gate. I heard the sound of metal protesting, then a loud clang as Mather lifted a bolt of some kind and pushed the gate forward. Perhaps it had been the child in me, but when I’d approached the gate on my own, I’d instinctively climbed over it, not even considering the possibility that it might be unlocked. I couldn’t help but feel foolish.
I walked past Mather, while he pushed the gate back into position behind me. I turned quickly, making sure I didn’t have my back to him. He continued along the path with me in tow. Soon we were turning the corner and facing the research centre.
We were almost at the porch when I noticed Mr Hopkins lying on the roof of the building, licking one paw and blinking at us. Mather had also noticed the animal, but offered him only a brief scowl of disapproval. I was reminded of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland, though Mr Hopkins wasn’t grinning. If anything, he looked uncomfortable. I sympathized. We entered the porch, Mather still leading the way, then went straight into the main hall.
‘It’s a rather unusual design for a research centre.’ Mather walked into the middle of the room and stood gazing around. His attention lingered on the floor, as though he were looking for something, then, as I approached, he glanced up again. ‘When I had a look around some years ago, I expected to find a number of rooms, not just one. It’s like an exhibition centre. Though I can’t imagine how they could have expected many visitors.’ My thoughts turned, inevitably, to the pile o
f bodies below us. ‘Still, it doesn’t really matter now, does it?’
‘No. I suppose not.’ I couldn’t stop my eyes from drifting to the basement door. It was wide open. If Mather made a habit of pulling it shut every time he had finished down there, he’d notice the difference. I tried to focus on him, worried that if he saw where my attention was wandering, his suspicions would be confirmed.
I made a show of strolling around the room and looking at the tanks and scientific equipment, always ensuring I knew exactly where Mather was. On more than one occasion I caught him looking down at the debris covering the floor. What the hell was he searching for? Something he’d lost? I heard the sound of something scraping on glass and, to my left, saw Mr Hopkins pawing at a window. He seemed to register the fact that I’d noticed him and stopped scratching. At least someone was watching over me.
When I turned back to Mather, I caught him staring thoughtfully at the door to the basement. I switched my gaze to one of the damaged tanks so he wouldn’t know that I’d seen him. In that moment all doubt left my mind. He knew what I’d been up to. He knew I’d discovered his foul secret. The question was, what was he going to do about it? Or, perhaps more importantly, what was I going to do about it? The latter was an easy question to answer. There was no way for me to get off the island without Mather’s boat. Even if my phone hadn’t been dead, I’d have had to get away from Mather to use it. He knew the island a lot better than I did. He could track me down in minutes. Again I prayed that Gina was doing something – anything – to send help. My sense of self-preservation was now all-consuming. The story no longer mattered: it could go to another journalist, or it could go to hell – I really didn’t care.
My only concern now was to get myself off the island and back to civilization. In order to get hold of Mather’s boat I would have to prise the lock off the boathouse door, which would be no easy task. To stand any chance of succeeding, Mather would have to be incapacitated. There was no escaping it: I would have to put him out of action. Running away was simply not an option. He’d have to be stunned and preferably tied up as well. I dreaded doing it, but I had no choice. I was roused from my thoughts by Mather’s voice.
‘Mr Reeves! Come here, I want to show you something.’
Oh God, I thought. Here we go. I walked over to him, my nerves jangling inside me. I felt as if I were going to explode. Mather didn’t seem to find anything unusual in my behaviour. Or if he did, he chose to ignore it.
‘These stairs lead down to the basement.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘Mmm. I believe that all the really interesting research was conducted down there.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. Typical, I suppose, that all the best stuff is hidden away.’
‘Yes.’
‘Shall we take a look?’
‘Well . . .’
‘Wouldn’t you like to see what they were hiding?’
‘Er, where does that door opposite lead to?’
‘Oh, that’s just the staffroom. Nothing of any interest there.’
‘Oh I see.’
‘Are you all right, Mr Reeves?’
‘Mmm? Yes, I’m fine.’
‘You look a little pale.’
‘No, no, I’m fine.’
‘Well then, the basement awaits. Would you like to lead the way?’
‘No.’ God no!
‘No?’
‘Well, I mean, you’ve been here before. I might bump into something. It looks pretty dark down there.’
‘Oh my, yes. I’d forgotten, the lights are out of action. Don’t worry, my torch is here somewhere. I left it behind last time.’
Left it behind last time? You said you hadn’t been here for years! Either Mather really was toying with me, or he was getting forgetful and revealing his lies without even knowing it. He gazed around the hall, scratching his head pointlessly.
‘I must have left it in the store cupboard.’ I wished I’d searched the store cupboard earlier. The torch would have saved me from relying on my camera flash and the lamps for light.
Mather went through the opposite door, and I soon heard him moving objects around, searching for the torch. My survival instinct took over. I looked quickly at the doors around me, trying to gauge which would be the best escape route. But Mather reappeared quicker than expected, a tiny Maglite in his hand. It was barely larger than a pen, and clearly insufficient for complete darkness. I was filled with dread. Going down into the gloom with Mather and only a pitiful beam of light for company was the most terrifying prospect I’d ever faced.
‘It doesn’t really matter,’ I assured him. ‘I’m sure it’s very interesting but—’
‘Oh, it is. Don’t worry, it may look treacherous, but I know my way.’ He grinned and winked. ‘Follow me.’ He entered the stairwell and took to the steps, holding the Maglite close to his right ear, pointing it down at an angle.
I hesitated. The basement was the last place on earth I wanted to go. Too late the thought occurred to me that I could have pushed him down those stone steps and maybe wedged the door to stop him getting out. The fall might have broken his neck, or at the very least knocked him out for a while. But when at last I moved into the doorway, he was practically at the bottom. Now the opportunity was gone, and I had no way of knowing if I’d get another. I didn’t want to kill Mather, but if it was the only way out, I would have to do it.
I went down the stairs, moving slowly, keeping him in view the whole time. When I reached the bottom, he made a show of brushing the light across all the walls of the room, exposing the unremarkable rubbish I’d seen already.
‘Ah, er . . .’ Something seemed to be missing. Mather was waving the light about, looking in vain for some object that wasn’t where it should be.
‘What’s wrong?’
He shone the torch directly at me, blinding me and sending me into a sudden panic. In that split second I was unable to see anything but the brilliant light from the torch. He could have chosen that moment to do anything.
‘Oh, sorry.’ He moved the light down, out of my eyes. ‘I’m sure there was an old oil lamp and some matches down here somewhere.’
I had the distinct feeling that below the surface Mather was enjoying himself and relishing the control he exerted. But his unshakeable confidence was a constant surprise. Why could he not see me as even a small threat? If I hadn’t been so scared I’d have felt insulted.
‘Well, I suppose we’ll have to manage,’ he said, looking a little put out. ‘I think this used to be a storeroom of some kind. Not much left, as you can see. I presume the staff members ransacked the place before they left. Took whatever they fancied. It’s through there that all the top-secret work was done.’ He turned, shining the light into the doorway leading to what I now suspected was his operating theatre. ‘Not much left to see, I’m afraid, but enough to get a good idea of what went on.’ He walked ahead, stooping slightly, as though expecting the doorway to be lower than it was.
Walking a few paces into the room, he stopped, pointed the light downwards and started examining the floor. I moved up behind him, and by the light of the torch I could see that there were a number of deep, distinctive footprints leading to and from the lip of the doorway.
Oh shit, I thought. Shit, shit, shit!
He turned to me and smiled. ‘I tend to be a little more careful where I walk when I’m down here, Mr Reeves.’
I couldn’t smile back. He shone the light towards the lip of the pit, then quickly back at me. Still he was calm, confident, in complete control. I stood there, momentarily paralysed with fear. My tongue was fixed, my lips set. Even if I’d thought of something to do, I couldn’t have done it just then. The terror was all-consuming.
Although the floor near the edge of the pit was relatively dry, we could both see clear signs of disturbance. I also noticed the odd smear of red on my boots and the legs of my trousers. I’ve made it so easy for you, haven’t I?
‘Sorry?’
> I’d spoken the words completely involuntarily. But it seemed as if I had no will any more. ‘Nothing.’
‘I see. It must have been quite a shock for you.’
‘What?’
‘You fell, didn’t you? Into the pit?’
Many seconds passed before I could answer. ‘Yes.’
‘Rather careless.’
‘Yes. I was surprised.’
‘I’ll bet you were.’
‘No. I mean, I heard something moving behind me and I lost my balance.’
‘Moving? Who?’ He sounded worried all of a sudden. What did he mean by ‘who’? There were only two of us on the island. Was he afraid that I hadn’t come alone? Or did he think that some other visitor was on the island, moving about without his knowledge. Perhaps I could have benefited from lying to him at that point. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the chance to find out. I only had enough energy, it seemed, for the truth.
‘The cat . . . Mr Hopkins.’
‘Oh.’ This calmed him somewhat. ‘That filthy creature. If only you’d done me the courtesy of wringing its scrawny little neck.’
I couldn’t think why he was so disgusted by the poor animal. Then, in a sudden movement, Mather pulled a small but cruelly sharp dagger from the waistband of his trousers. My stomach felt as if it was folding in on itself. I expected to be sick, but was thankfully spared the ordeal.
He held the strange, curving blade between us, but continued talking, as though it wasn’t even there. ‘The number of times that foul pest has disturbed my work. It’s as though he was put on this island to make my life a misery.’ Mather’s eyes darted about the room, as if seeking the feline troublemaker. He took a few deep breaths, then seemed to calm down.
‘Ah well. He’ll get his comeuppance soon enough. I’ll see to that. Now then,’ he said, spotting a lamp on the floor. ‘Let us shed a little light on the subject.’ He lifted it up and placed it on the blood-stained table. Taking a box of matches from one pocket, he set about lighting the old lamp, gripping the Maglite between his teeth and pushing the dagger back under his belt. With some fiddling, he managed to strike a match and ignite the oil. When the flame had grown a little, he lifted it up and hung it from a hook in the ceiling.
The Hand of the Devil Page 11