Blood Mist (Eve Clay)

by Mark Roberts

‘I can see the bodies of Hanif Patel, his mother and daughter at the bottom of their stairs.’ He scrolled. ‘I can see the bodies of Kate Patel and her two daughters arranged on the upstairs landing.’ Scroll.

  Clay suddenly felt herself drawn to the bag on her shoulder.

  ‘I can see the empty sockets of Kate Patel’s eyes.’ Scroll. ‘I can see the bodies of Daniel Tanner, his wife and teenage children.’ Scroll.

  She looked inside her bag and saw the edge of Sandy Patel’s cigarette packet. With her free hand she plucked it out.

  ‘I can see a picture of Maisy Tanner standing over the bodies of her family.’ Scroll. ‘I can see the empty sockets of Gillian Tanner’s eyes.’ Scroll.

  ‘Wait a second, Karl!’

  She flipped open the lid of the cigarette packet and saw Adrian White’s distinctive handwriting.

  . n . w . - o

  During the minute he’d had the packet behind the locked door of his room in Ashworth, he’d put his mark on Sandy Patel’s property, just as the Red Cloud had left their barbaric stamp on his family’s bodies.

  Clay said nothing, put the cigarette packet back inside her bag.

  ‘Go on, Karl!’

  ‘I can see a photograph of a teenage boy trying to run away in the hall of the Watsons’ house.’ Scroll. ‘I can see the bodies of Mary Watson and her three children arranged in the hall.’ Scroll. ‘I can see the empty sockets of Mary Watson’s eyes.’

  ‘Wait! Go back. And again.’

  Stone looked at the screen, looked up at Clay and met her gazes with a puzzled smile.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Hendricks, just arrived from Trinity Road.

  ‘They took a picture of the Watson boy running away, towards the kitchen. Faith’s chasing him with a metal bar and we’ve got a full-on shot of her face.’

  ‘How come?’ Hendricks peered over Stone’s shoulder at the phone. ‘If it’s a picture of her chasing after him, won’t you just get her back?’

  ‘There’s a large mirror in the Watsons’ hall and they’ve managed to get a clear shot of Faith, even though she looks like a raving maniac.’

  The demonic rage in Faith’s eyes and the cast that the light made on the mirror made the image look like a still from a horror movie.

  ‘Looks like...?’ said Hendricks.

  Stone zoomed in on Faith’s face. There was something inhuman in her eyes. Her mouth was contorted, her teeth bared. She looked like a wild animal.

  ‘She’s in a state of religious frenzy,’ said Clay. ‘She’s on a complete spiritual trip. Possessed.’

  ‘I don’t believe in the supernatural.’ Stone spoke his thoughts out loud. ‘I’ve come eyeball to eyeball with some really vicious hard cases, but she actually looks like the Devil.’

  ‘Copy the pictures over to me and get them circulated nationally. Put a call out to all stations, ports and airports. When you’ve done that, check with the Women’s Hospital for the birth records for Anais Drake.’

  Clay’s mobile rang out. The display read: ‘Riley’. She connected.

  ‘What’s happening at Alder Hey, Gina?’

  ‘The Drake girl, she’s coming round. She’s asking for you. She’s becoming more and more distressed.’ In the background, Clay could hear shouting and crying. ‘She’s begging to see you, Eve.’

  ‘Tell her from me to stop speaking. I demand silence and obedience from her. And don’t let Dr Midazolam anywhere near her with a hypodermic needle. Tell her I’m on my way.’ She calculated the distance from Childwall to Alder Hey. ‘I’ll be there in five to ten minutes.’

  She handed her file to Stone. ‘I’m trusting you with my life, Karl.’

  ‘I won’t let it out of my hands!’ he called to Clay’s departing back.

  74

  10.43 pm

  Driving to Alder Hey in the Park, Clay tried to block out all thoughts of the painted image of herself on the altar in the Drakes’ loft space, but the image was too vivid. Her head spun as she recalled a detail she hadn’t acknowledged on first sight. The Devil, with whom she was shown wistfully fornicating, had had his claws around her centre, completely enclosing her womb.

  Why? she thought, bitterness mounting. Why me?

  On the third floor, Clay could hear the fatigue in her own footsteps as she passed the darkened wards and sleeping children. As she approached the side ward, she noted the little girl’s laboured breathing.

  ‘Now, breathe out slowly.’ Riley’s voice, calm but firm. ‘DCI Clay wants you calm.’

  Clay looked through glass. DS Gina Riley and Sergeant Cowans were on either side of the bed, each holding the little girl by the hand. The girl was sitting bolt upright, rocking backwards and forwards, her face full of tension, holding in a storm of tears. Clay shivered at the thought of her involvement in the barbarity of the last three nights, a small child placed by chance in a pit of psychosis.

  Stepping into the room, Clay looked directly into the girl’s eyes. She squinted as if she was seeing an apparition and suddenly stopped rocking. Clay walked over to the bottom of the bed.

  The girl leaned forward and twisted her hips and legs so that she was on her knees.

  ‘Let go of her hands,’ said Clay.

  ‘She’s dangerous,’ said Riley, releasing one hand as Cowans let go of the other.

  The girl bent her elbows and, with her fingers outstretched and palms turned up to the ceiling, said, ‘I dreamed you looked me in the eyes, Blessed Mother. I dreamed you carried me, centre of all shade, and laid me down to sleep.’

  Clay imitated the girl, holding her own hands up to the sides of her head, palms to the ceiling. ‘Listen,’ she said. ‘Hush.’

  Outside, the wind battered the building.

  ‘What’s your name, Little Darkness?’

  ‘Am I seeing you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Am I dreaming?’

  ‘You are seeing me as I am seeing you.’ Clay mirrored the girl’s actions. As the girl stretched her hands out to Clay, so Clay held her own hands out towards the girl.

  ‘What is my name?’

  ‘They think you’re Eve.’

  ‘What is your name?’

  ‘Adie.’

  ‘Who am I?’ asked Clay.

  ‘Part human.’

  ‘Part human?’

  ‘Part not.’ Adie Drake drew her index finger across her sealed lips. ‘That is the great mystery,’ she said, in a voice that could have pronounced, And they all lived happily ever after.

  Clay turned her hands so the backs faced Adie and beckoned her forward. The girl placed her hands on the bed and crawled on all fours towards Clay. When she was just beyond arm’s reach, Clay said, ‘Stop!’

  She stopped.

  ‘Sit.’

  She sat, legs outstretched, her palms pressed against the bed. Clay saw a glimmer of light beneath the dark surface of the girl’s eyes. Adie’s lips trembled as she spoke from the heart, words that were too quiet to hear.

  ‘I can’t hear you,’ whispered Clay.

  ‘Blessed Mother, who looks into shadows, sees mirrors...’

  Adie fell silent and stretched out her right arm towards Clay, who took a step closer and held the girl’s hand. The girl lifted her left hand towards Clay. She twined her fingers around the girl’s hand and was surprised by the intense cold of her flesh.

  ‘When I dream of you, Blessed Mother, when I touch you, you explode into millions of stars and then the stars die and I am alone again.’

  Clay wondered if Adie was visually impaired. Her unfocused stare was both pitiful and unnerving.

  ‘Adie, I went to your house to visit you, but you weren’t there.’

  ‘Only you can be in two places at one time. I was here.’

  ‘Your mother wasn’t there. Coral wasn’t there. Faith wasn’t there.’

  ‘Only you. They were. Somewhere. Else.’

  ‘Where is? Somewhere? Else?’

  ‘Only you can see for miles.’

  �
�They’re in the dark,’ said Clay.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But the dark is all around us.’

  ‘And you are the true centre of that darkness.’

  Clay sat next to Adie on the end of the bed and disentangled her fingers from the girl’s. Slowly, she picked the little girl up by her bony arms and sat her on her knee. Adie’s head came to rest against Clay’s shoulder. She was too thin. Her bones jutted into Clay’s skin and she understood that fasting went hand in hand with poverty as a part of the Red Cloud’s religious observation.

  She wrapped her arms around the girl, holding her tight. ‘Do you feel safe now?’

  ‘Safer than I’ve ever felt.’

  ‘The Red Cloud is rising, Adie?’

  ‘The Red Cloud has risen, the river runs with blood.’

  ‘Who is the Red Cloud?’

  ‘We are the Red Cloud and though we are one, there are many, in all places and through all time, waiting to rise up. We are the first and others will follow. We are the sign that you are here. Other Clouds will rise. The Yellow Cloud. The Black Cloud. The whole world is covered with Clouds waiting to rise.’

  Clay noticed a coldness spreading across Adie’s face, her dark eyes filling with a deeper pitch.

  ‘The Red Cloud rose tonight?’

  ‘It was their joy to be chosen and our privilege to serve.’

  In her bag, Clay’s iPhone rang out.

  ‘What was that noise?’ Adie was alarmed and Clay held her tighter.

  ‘It was nothing.’

  Clay felt Riley take her bag. The phone stopped ringing.

  ‘It’s me.’ Riley’s voice, softly.

  ‘What did you say?’ asked Adie.

  ‘It’s me,’ replied Clay. She looked down at Adie’s feet. A picture of the bruising on Kate Patel’s body, the diamond pattern of the sole of a small footprint, rose up and faded.

  ‘What do you do when the Red Cloud rises, Adie?’

  ‘You know what I do.’

  ‘I want to know if you have been instructed correctly by Anais.’

  ‘I am the door.’

  Three successive images flashed through Clay’s head. I am the door.

  ‘I know what you did,’ she said. ‘I watched you and...’ She pictured Adie at the door of the Patels’ house. ‘...you stood at the door of the big house and rang the bell.’

  ‘The girl called Alicia opened the door,’ Adie said. ‘I am lost, I said, tears falling down my cheek. Let me in. I am scared of the dark. She called, Mum! Dad!’

  Clay glanced back at Riley. Adie had caught the cadences of Alicia’s voice, imitating her with chilling precision, as if the teenager’s restless spirit had slipped inside the little girl’s body.

  ‘She shut the door. Alicia. What’s going on, Alicia?’ Now Adie slipped effortlessly into the mature tone of a middle-aged woman, a voice Clay knew was Kate Patel’s. ‘Did I do well?’

  She fell silent. Clay heard only the sound of a pen dancing wildly across the surface of a piece of paper.

  ‘I’ve been waiting all my life for you,’ said Adie. ‘Have you been waiting all your life for me?’

  Clay whispered in Adie’s ear. ‘Can you tell me what I am?’

  ‘I’ve told you all I know now, Blessed Mother.’ Her body sagged with exhaustion. Her eyelids closed over slowly as she battled to stay awake. In moments, the fight was over.

  Clay lifted Adie and placed her carefully between the sheets, tucking her in and listening as her soft breathing thickened. She imagined Philip born into the same circumstances as Adie. She turned to Riley and Cowans. ‘First thing in the morning,’ said Clay to Sergeant Cowans. ‘I want the consultant psychiatrist with her. I want you to get the ball rolling to make her a ward of court. Sergeant Cowans, you’re to stay with her as her key child-protection officer. I’ll send support so you won’t be alone with her. Gina, I need you to come with me now.’

  Clay saw the paper in Gina Riley’s hand.

  ‘What was the phone call?’

  ‘Bill Hendricks,’ said Riley. ‘I wrote it all down to pass to you.’

  I’ve been in touch with the Women’s Hospital and I got the registrar out of bed. Coral Drake was born at the Women’s on 4 January 2000. Her birth was registered at Brougham Terrace by her mother Anais on 6 January, father unknown. Faith Drake was born at the Women’s on 1 March 2008, birth registered on 3 March by her mother, father unknown. The registrar checked against the national database. There are no records of Anais Drake having a third child. Officially, it looks like the little girl you have in Alder Hey doesn’t even exist.

  75

  11.17 pm

  In her car, Clay waited, listened, her iPhone on speakerphone.

  ‘Anais Drake’s fixed on you because of the Baptist,’ said Riley, sitting next to her, staring out as fresh snow fell on the old frozen covering.

  Clay listened to the silence on the other end of the line and pictured the emptiness of the day room as the patients on the High Dependency Ward slept soundly and the night staff whittled away the wood of time with card games played in the half light of desk lamps in the nurses’ station.

  Flat-footed steps came towards the phone and she pictured the Baptist, physically naked, his twisted spirit gorging itself on the sudden call in the small hours, his eyes sucking in the shadows around him and replenishing the vat of darkness within.

  She heard a door close and a door open.

  Voices. But not his. There would be a group of four nurses escorting him to the phone.

  ‘He’s coming to the phone,’ she said, gripped with a sharp sense of expectation and creased with the probability of failure and frustration.

  Riley pressed record on her phone, held it close to Clay’s mobile and flicked open her notebook.

  The receiver was picked up from the desk.

  ‘DCI Clay?’ It was George Green. ‘I’ll put you on to Adrian White.’ Clay listened as he handed the receiver over to White. She stayed quiet. In her mind’s eye, she recalled White standing silent and impassive in the dock in Preston Crown Court after Judge Royce-Lear asked him to enter his plea. The judge had become impatient. ‘Do you have auditory impairment? Guilty or not guilty?’

  ‘Unafraid of silence.’

  ‘How is Adie?’ His voice went off like a bomb inside her ear. ‘Fifty-three. Did she enlighten you, Eve? Forty.’

  Riley glanced up from making notes, made eye contact with Clay.

  They both knew White wanted the gratification of her asking for clarification on the numbers he was throwing out. Clay gave him none.

  ‘Was she pleased to see you, my little Adie?’

  ‘In what way does she belong to you?’

  ‘Did you warm to her? Sixty-two.’

  ‘The marks you made inside Sandy Patel’s cigarette packet...’

  ‘How did you miss them, Eve?’

  ‘You only give information when you want me to do something, when you want to manipulate a situation from a distance.’

  ‘You could be right. You could be wrong. Out of the mouths of babes, Eve.’

  ‘Adie’s asleep and she’s told me everything she knows.’

  ‘She couldn’t possibly have done that.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean you’ve got sixty-eight seconds before I hang up, that’s less than two, Eve.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean ninety-five’s too many. Time’s a wasting, Eve. And that’s a real sin.’

  ‘You’ve got all the time in the world.’

  ‘What is the world to me? Time? I sit and watch the seconds die, counting down the death of time, the final countdown, the beginning of the end. Count with me, Eve, and wake up to the one reason you were put on this planet. What is your birthday, Eve? Has the sun finally set on that fateful day?’

  The seventh of January, thought Clay. Seconds collapsed in the silence between them.

  ‘Such intimacy between...’

  ‘How ar
e you communicating with the Red Cloud?’

  ‘...the hunter and the hunted, but which is which?’

  She could feel the pleasure throbbing from him and pouring into her ear.

  ‘How are the Red Cloud communicating with you?’

  ‘I emit signals. They receive them.’

  ‘Who is the link between you and the Red Cloud?’

  ‘Why, Eve, you! Even though you don’t know who you are, Eve. But I do. And soon so will many others.’

  ‘Who do you think I am?’

  ‘You are about to find out.’

  The line went dead.

  She threw open the door and scrambled out of the car. ‘You drive!’ she said to Riley as she made her way round to the passenger seat.

  She buckled herself in as Riley turned on the ignition.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Back to the Drakes’ house.’

  Clay threw on the little light above her head.

  Riley was in third gear and rising to speed as she negotiated the treacherous surface of the car park.

  On her iPhone, Clay connected to the internet, YouTube. She typed in: Bill Hendricks Merseyside Police press statement.

  She looked at the screen and pressed play with the sound muted. She watched Hendricks speaking formally to the press, reviewing what she’d seen on the TV in the day room after she had talked to White. Finger poised on the pause button, she waited for the moment when the camera turned to focus on his audience. Feeling deeply uneasy, she paused the footage. The screen was full of faces obscured by cameras and microphones.

  Riley slowed at a junction as another vehicle crossed her path. ‘What you looking at?’ she asked.

  Clay showed her the image. ‘I want this picture but clear and blown up, earliest opportunity.’

  ‘I’ll call DC TN Ryan and get him on the job.’ She sped across the junction.

  ‘TN?’ asked Clay.

  ‘Techno nerd.’

  Clay stared at the picture, pressed play, drilled the screen with her eyes.

  ‘What’s eating you about it?’

  ‘I don’t know for certain, but it’s ringing my alarm bells. Maybe it’s just because it was the first thing I saw after hooking up with the Baptist in sunny Ashworth.’

  Or maybe, she thought, I’m going mad and will never be the same again.