The Watcher : A Chilling Serial Killer Thriller

by Netta Newbound

  “I need to call Daddy,” she said, standing at the foot of her mother’s bed.

  “What will you tell him?”

  “The truth. I thought some of the test results would have been back by now—but I can’t wait much longer.”

  “I noticed a family room at the end of the corridor. Why don’t you go in there?” Max suggested.

  “Yeah, I will. I won’t be long.”

  He hugged her as she walked past and kissed the top of her head.

  Just then, a man they hadn’t seen before, dressed in a blue, linen shirt and navy trousers, entered. He had a file in his hands. “Ms McLaughlin?”

  Hannah nodded, backing up beside Max again, and reached for his hand.

  “I’m Sebastian Roberts, the consultant in charge of your mother.”

  “Do you have the test results?” Hannah asked.

  “Some of them. There were high levels of carbon dioxide in her system.”

  “What are you saying? I don’t understand.”

  “Well, there are several types of asphyxiation. Natural gas isn’t toxic in itself, but inhaling it in large amounts, enough to render your mother unconscious, would dilute her oxygen intake substantially. Asphyxiation without the painful and traumatic feeling of suffocation.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “I’m a little confused myself, to be honest. There is no doubt her body’s been deprived of oxygen. She’s displaying the symptoms of asphyxia, but at this stage, I don’t think it had anything to do with gas inhalation.”

  “What else could it be, then?” Hannah knew her voice sounded screechy and irrational, but she couldn’t help it.

  “Some other forms of asphyxiation include drowning, smothering, or suffocation. Drowning is easy to diagnose, water floods the lungs, of course.”

  “Are you saying she drowned?” Hannah shook her head, impatience getting the better of her.

  “Of course not. I’m not explaining myself very well, am I? Please bear with me. If a person is suffocated, having the airways obstructed, they can’t breathe, but more importantly, they can’t breathe out, which causes a build-up of carbon dioxide. Add this to the marks around your mother’s nose and mouth, the discolouration of her tongue, and bloodshot eyes, I’d say your mother was suffocated.”

  “That’s crazy. She was fine a couple of hours earlier. We found her unconscious, and the flat was filled with fumes.”

  “I’ll reorder the tests to be sure. But, if the findings are the same, I’ll have no choice but to inform the authorities.”

  “Is she going to be alright? Why hasn’t she woken up yet?”

  “We’re hopeful. The initial prognosis appears favourable. As with any asphyxiation, permanent damage can occur, depending on how long your mother was deprived of oxygen. But, her pupils are reactive, which is a good sign, and the MRI scan showed up nothing untoward. However, high levels of carbon dioxide can harm your body’s organs. She’s already on a ventilator, which is blowing increased amounts of oxygen into her lungs, so hopefully, we’ll see an improvement by the morning.”

  “Is she in a coma?”

  “No. She’s in a state we call wakeful unresponsiveness. She suffered a massive trauma, and her body needs a little time to heal itself. As I said, by tomorrow, we should see signs of improvement. Now, if you don’t have any more questions, I need to be on my way.”

  Hannah stepped forward, and shook his hand. “Thanks so much for taking the time to explain. I do appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She waited until he’d left before turning to Max. “So, what did you think about that?”

  “It must be a mistake. She was taking a nap on the sofa, and the gas was on.”

  “I know, but I did wonder what those marks were on her face. They weren’t there earlier.”

  “With a bit of luck, she’ll remember what happened. Now, you’d best go and call your dad.”

  She headed to the other end of the corridor to find the family room Max had told her about.

  Hannah scrolled through her contacts, and inhaled deeply before tapping the call button. Her father answered on the second ring.

  “Hi, Daddy. It’s me.”

  “Hello, sweetheart. How did the funeral go?”

  “Oh, err… fine, thanks. But, listen, Daddy, I need to tell you something.”

  “What is it?” The smile in his voice had gone.

  “It’s Mammy. She’s in hospital.”

  “What the hell!”

  “Don’t panic. The specialists think she should make a full recovery.”

  “Just tell me what happened,” he snapped.

  Hannah thought of the old man from earlier, and could hear the same desperation in her father’s voice.

  Hannah told him everything.

  “I’m on my way.”

  “No, Daddy. There’s no point. If she’s no better tomorrow, then, yes. But, chances are, she’ll be okay. If she is, then I’ll drive her home for the weekend myself.”

  “It’s not up for discussion, Hannah. She’s my wife. Who’s responsible for your stove, by the way?”

  “The owners, I guess, although the tenancy’s being managed by an agent.”

  “Get me the agent’s details first thing. This needs fixing immediately.”

  Chapter 42

  When there was still nothing on the evening news, Don began to panic. Hannah hadn’t returned home, and neither had Maxwell-fucking-Myers. He desperately needed to know where they were.

  Snap-snap-snap.

  He hacked into the company’s alarm system, and set off the alarm on the emergency exit on the fifteenth floor.

  A deafening alarm sounded.

  Moments later, his earpiece crackled to life. “Don—an alarm has been activated on the top floor. It appears to be the emergency exit.”

  “I’m heading up there now. I’ll check it out,” Don replied.

  He reset the alarm, and then triggered it again a minute later.

  “You still up there, Don?”

  “Yeah, Ken. I think we have a technical fault. Could you go to the hub, and deactivate all the sensors for the top floor?”

  “Will do, boss.”

  Don left the hub, and headed up to the next floor via the stairs.

  The alarm sounded for a further few minutes, and then nothing, although Don’s ears were still ringing.

  He reached for his phone, and dialled Max’s number.

  “Max Myers,” his boss said, in a quiet voice.

  “Sorry to disturb you, sir. But, there seems to be a security fault on the top floor. Do you happen to be in the building?”

  “No, I’m not. What’s happening?”

  “The emergency exit is triggering the alarm. I checked the door and the sensors, and then reset it, but it happened again, moments later. I was standing beside it the second time, so I know there was nobody tampering with it. I made the call to disarm the floor, but I thought I’d check with you—just in case.”

  “Good call, Don. Can you contact the relevant department tomorrow? Steve will have left a list of numbers somewhere.”

  While Max was talking, Don tried to listen for any tell-tale sounds in the background, but there was nothing. “Will do, sir. Also, I was wondering if I could have a chat with you later.”

  “Is it important? The thing is, I probably won’t be back tonight. I’m at the hospital.”

  “Nothing bad, I hope? No, not important.”

  “I’m here with a friend. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow at the start of your shift.”

  Don hung up and rubbed his temples. So, they were at the hospital. Max said he was with a friend, but he must mean Hannah. Had she had an accident? Could finding her dead mother have caused her to have some kind of breakdown? Surely not.

  He reached the lift, suddenly feeling drained and confused. Maybe he shouldn’t have acted on impulse today. Just because his own mother’s death hadn’t affected him, didn’t mean everyone would feel the
same. In fact, he witnessed the closeness between them both the other night.

  For the first time in a long time, he felt a twinge of guilt. And he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.

  ***

  Hannah was startled from a daydream, as Max returned. “You get going, Max. You must be exhausted.”

  “Not on your life. I’m staying.” He moved the chair up beside her armchair.

  “It’s seems silly us both getting no sleep.” She knew the sensible thing to do would be for them both to go home for a few hours, but she refused to leave her mother’s side. However, she didn’t expect him to stay, too.

  “Who says we’ll get no sleep? I made a deal with the night nurse. She said she’ll bring us an extra armchair, once the place settles down for the night.”

  “Oh, good. I was feeling a little guilty sitting here, while you were on that hard thing.”

  “We could always swap.”

  “I don’t feel that guilty.” She gave him a wide, exaggerated grin.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “Who was on the phone?”

  “Security. An issue with the alarms, or something. Nothing to worry about. Are you hungry?”

  “A little. There won’t be anywhere open now, though.”

  “I could pick up a couple of burgers. There’s a twenty-four-hour place not far from here.”

  Her stomach growled loudly, which made them both laugh.

  “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” He grabbed his jacket from the end of the bed. “I shouldn’t be too long.”

  While he was gone, she went into the small adjoining bathroom, where she rinsed her face and ran her fingers through her hair. The end result wasn’t much better. Her eyes were still red and swollen from crying on and off all day.

  The thought of red eyes brought to mind what the consultant had said—her mother had bloodshot eyes, and some chemical, which only builds up if she was unable to breathe out. When he’d first said it, she thought it sounded stupid. If she’d been struggling to breathe in, then surely she’d struggle to breathe out, too.

  Hannah left the bathroom, and located her phone. After a few minutes on the internet, she’d found the explanation. Suddenly, the penny dropped.

  With gas inhalation, a person doesn’t struggle to breathe, as such. Instead, the available oxygen is diluted with the gas, and their system will slowly shut down. But, with suffocation, a person will be fighting to breathe. However, all the time they are being suffocated, they can’t breathe out the harmful carbon dioxide.

  So, if the initial tests were correct, it’s likely her mother had been suffocated. But, how could that be?

  By the time Max returned, Hannah had worked herself into a frenzy. Her words poured from her mouth like Alphabetti Spaghetti.

  “Whoa, slow down.” He caught both of her hands in his, and looked into her eyes. “Now, tell me again. What happened?”

  Hannah went over the information she’d found, stressing the point about carbon dioxide.

  “What are you trying to say? Somebody entered your flat, and attacked your mother?” He shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense, though. You saw her—she looked as though she’d just gone to sleep. There were no signs of a break in, or a struggle.”

  “I know, but if the tests results are the same tomorrow, the police will be informed. The specialist must be pretty certain, if he contacts the police.”

  “Let’s wait for the results, before we jump to any conclusions. I mean, who else knew the cooker was faulty?”

  “Nobody. Well, Diane did, but…” She shrugged.

  “Could she have told anybody?”

  “I don’t see why she would. But, it’s possible, I guess.”

  “There are just too many coincidences for me. I’m sure it will all be cleared up by tomorrow.”

  “I hope so, Max. Because, if not, it means somebody attempted to murder Mammy!”

  Chapter 43

  Hannah hardly slept. The armchair proved to be terribly uncomfortable, with the wooden arms digging in her ribs every time she changed position.

  When she eventually got up to use the bathroom, she realised Max had gone. He must’ve changed his mind, and headed home after all.

  She leaned over her mother, and kissed her cheek. “Wake up, Mammy. I need you to wake up.”

  Nothing. Not a flicker.

  While she was in the bathroom, she heard the outer door opening. A few minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom. “Did you go home for a decent sleep?”

  She froze. Her father was standing beside the bed, stroking her mother’s face.

  “Daddy!” Tears streamed from her eyes and down off her chin, before she reached him.

  He held his arms open, and she launched herself into them.

  “Oh, Daddy. I’m so relieved to see you.”

  The door opened, and Max appeared holding two coffee cups and a paper bag.

  “You’re awake,” he said, before his eyes settled on her father.

  “Max, this is my daddy, Liam. Daddy, meet Max. He’s my…” she paused, her eyes fixed on Max’s, and she cringed. “…boyfriend.”

  Max passed her a cup, then, with his free hand outstretched, said, “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

  Her dad bristled slightly, and glanced at her, before accepting Max’s handshake.

  “Max was with me when I found Mammy,” she explained, suddenly aware of the frost in the room.

  Her dad cocked his head backward in acknowledgement.

  “He also stayed with me last night. Neither of us has left the hospital since we arrived.”

  “Has there been any change with your mother?” he asked, ignoring her waffling.

  “No. Apparently, the doctors do the rounds just after eight.” She glanced at her watch. “So, they should be here within the hour.”

  “Can I get you a coffee, Mr McLaughlin? There’s a cafeteria on the floor below,” Max said.

  “I’m fine, thank you. I stopped for petrol a little while ago, and bought something then.”

  “Daddy. There’s something I need to tell you.”

  His eyes narrowed, making her squirm.

  She told him all about the consultant’s comments and explained the carbon dioxide information.

  “I agree with Max—too many coincidences,” he said.

  “I hope so,” Hannah said. “The thought of anybody intentionally hurting Mammy blows my mind.”

  “When the doctors have been, you and the lad should go home for a rest.”

  Hannah glanced at Max, embarrassed by her father’s words.

  Max gave two quick lifts of his eyebrows, then winked.

  “Are you sure? I would like to have a shower and a change of clothes, and then, I’ll come straight back.”

  Her father shrugged, his eyes fixed on his wife’s face.

  Several doctors arrived a few minutes later. They mainly spoke amongst themselves, and had no updates for them, except to say they hoped her mother would wake up soon, but she could remain in this state for several days.

  “The consultant said she was to have more tests,” Hannah said, as the doctors turned to leave.

  “More tests have been ordered, yes,” a stony-faced charge-nurse said. “We’re still awaiting the results.”

  And then, with a whoosh of white coats, they were gone.

  “It could be days,” her father repeated, returning to her mother’s side.

  “The consultant was quite certain she should start showing some improvement by today.”

  Her father scowled at her. “You kids get off now. And Hannah, get some sleep. I’ll call you, if there’s any change.”

  *

  “I’m sorry my father was rude to you,” she said, once they were in the corridor heading for the exit.

  “He wasn’t. Was he?”

  “Calling you the lad! Didn’t it bother you?”

  “Not at all. I am a lad, to him, I guess. I bet he thinks I’m some little punk, sniffing a
round his daughter. There is a protocol every man goes through when he meets his girlfriend’s father for the first time.”

  “Is there?”

  “Of course. It’s a well-known fact dads and daughters have a close bond. You would have idolised your father all your life. For him, you are still that tiny baby he brought home from the hospital. And then, some punk makes an appearance, and thinks he’s going to take his place in your heart. Your dad will feel undermined, territorial, ready to fight to the death, if need be. He needs to establish the relationship from the word go, and make it clear the punk isn’t worthy of his daughter, and if he dared to hurt her, then—” He made a throat slitting movement with his finger.

  She laughed.

  Opening the external door open for her, she ducked under his arm, and out to the dreary, drizzly day.

  “I see. You’ve really studied it, haven’t you?”

  “Not at all. I just know how I’d feel if it was my daughter. There would be pistols at dawn.”

  “Rather excessive, don’t you think?”

  “Nowhere near excessive enough!”

  “You do realise we’re having another argument about children, don’t you?” She grinned.

  “Not an argument, as such, just a little discussion.”

  They reached Max’s car. “Okay, shall we go to mine, or yours?” he said.

  “Do you still have my overnight bag?”

  He nodded. “Yes, it’s in the boot—I brought it back with me yesterday.”

  “Then, yours—if that’s okay? I can’t face my place, yet.”

  Once at his apartment, they showered, and fell into bed, totally exhausted.

  Hannah was asleep, almost immediately, cradled in Max’s strong arms. They woke to a phone ringing a couple of hours later.

  Max answered.

  From what she could make out, she knew there was a problem.

  He slammed down the phone, and turned to her. “We’ve got an issue with the Sullivan account. The main server crashed, and seems to have lost the entire campaign.”