Beyond Evidence

by Emma L. Clapperton

  But as existence went on, the harder it was becoming to break the barrier that Patrick's mind had created. Nothing she did would penetrate that barrier and there were a few times where Angela wanted to give up but continued with her attempts. It was then that Jodie had entered the equation. Angela realised that Jodie's mind would be open to all of the spirits and even more so because she was also a psychic medium.

  Jodie's mind was full of anxiety which made her vulnerable to the energies of Angela, Michelle and Rebecca. This meaning that Jodie's mind could be harmed if not treated gently by them. But Angela knew that Jodie was their only hope of successfully revealing Ross and having him put to prison for their deaths.

  Angela would try absolutely everything in her power to show Jodie everything that had happened and everything that she could foresee. Being able to see the future was a gift that the other spirits did not have, so it was down to Angela to make every attempt to contact Jodie and help her lead Patrick to the killer before it was too late. The spirits were with Patrick and Jodie every minute of every day in human time, awake or asleep, in their dreams and in their minds. Jodie was seeing much more than Patrick was but she wasn't speaking in full about her visions. Jodie was terrified of what she was seeing but still only spoke in small snippets to Patrick.

  But even though Jodie was being shown what had happened to the girls and events that may occur if time went on without justice, something else was blocking Jodie's ability to see the truth.

  Twenty Seven

  Mirror image

  The photographs and newspaper cuttings were beginning to take up a lot of space on the small wall at the back of the bedroom. The room was barely slept in and used more as a storage room, storage of reminders of the ill fated deaths, reminders that were put there to keep the mind on track.

  Maria's face, Angela, Michelle and Rebecca's faces, even Billy's face, they all stared out at Ross as he studied them. He looked into his mothers eyes and the grief was overbearing. It tugged at his gut as he felt sick with emotion, anger at Billy, disgust at the girls. But he felt something else too, something that made him, for the first time question whether he should carry on or not. Was it doubt that he would be found out too soon? Maybe he should lay off for a while?

  The thought of not carrying on made Ross' head hurt. He had to continue, had to go on. Maria's death could not be in vain, something good had to come from the pain of losing her. Ross moved his eyes across the space covering the wall on to another face. Billy, now dead and for a short while this made the gut wrenching feeling about his mothers pain go away, but it came back like it always did. The pain would only remove itself from Ross' heart for short periods of time, after death, but without a shadow of a doubt it would present itself again, stabbing at him like a freshly sharpened knife.

  Applying his pain to those who Ross saw partly responsible for his mother’s death was the only thing that could get him through his never ending grief.

  He quickly moved his eyes away from Billy, no longer being able to take the image in his head of his dysfunctional family and moved on to the girls. Those three faces stared back at him, smiling innocently, dressed in their alluring attire, as if getting ready to possibly ruin an unsuspecting happy family.

  Any pain Ross had been feeling diminished very slightly as he looked at their faces, knowing that he had rid the world of a family disaster waiting to happen. But the pain didn't leave entirely, as he knew that there were many more out there that he had to deal with.

  He smiled at the girls photos as his eyes left them and moved over the newspaper report cuttings and on to two newer additions to the wall. His smile diminished as he looked into the eyes of the new faces. The new faces had become obstacles for Ross. Obstacles create problems and problems slow down the process of revenge.

  Ross read the cutting he had found in the local paper about the West End Spiritualist Church; West End Spiritualist church invites you along to witness the connection between life and spirit. If you are looking for a connection with a passed loved one, answers to questions that nobody else can answer, or just curious about our spiritual abilities then come along to one of our demonstrations. You'll be amazed by what our mediums can do for you. Anyone who attends will be welcomed warmly and safely by a number of our mediums, all of which have a blend of unique abilities that will connect to the spirit world for you. Come and meet the head of our church Patrick McLaughlin and his fiancée Jodie Jenkins who will be able to comfort you with a private message, or simply be part of a demonstration where you may be lucky enough to receive a reading. We are open Monday 8pm to 10pm, Wednesday 8pm to 10pm or Sunday 12pm to 4pm.

  He looked at their faces and thought about the realisation of which Patrick and Jodie were. They were resources for the Police and obstacles for Ross. But maybe he could switch that around.

  Maybe the obstacles could become part of the revenge? Maybe the obstacles don't have to be obstacles at all? Maybe Ross could use the new faces as his resource in his plans.

  "So much for being psychic," Ross smiled. "You haven't even figured me out yet!"

  He walked out from the bedroom and closed the door quietly behind him, almost as if he didn't want the faces in the photos to hear him leave the room. He made his way into the bathroom and as he looked into the cracked and damaged mirror he wondered if Patrick would be able to figure it out before Ross could make his move.

  Well, it has been almost three months and he hasn't figured it out so far.

  This made Ross smile and he enjoyed knowing that he was still a black silhouette to Patrick and the Police.

  He crouched down and pulled the side panel of the bath away from the tub and reached under. He gripped his hand around a plastic waterproof bag and slid it out from underneath the bath tub. As he unzipped it he pictured the possibility of Patrick knocking on his door. He felt his adrenaline kick in at the thought that it could all stop at any given time but knowing that it was unlikely at this moment. It hadn't happened so far, so why now?

  He put his hand into the bag and pulled out a plastic supermarket bag and emptied the contents.

  A male (very realistic) styled hair piece, which was dark in colour and shorter than his own hair, a large bottle of professional skin enhancer, and several small cases containing blue contact lenses and a hair net. He also brought out of the bag a very small case containing dentures and a pair of designer glasses, slim frames with rectangular lenses.

  There was also an envelope in the bag containing two photographs, one of himself and one of another man. The last thing to come out of the never ending bag was an extendable mirror. He had bought it to replace the one he had smashed into the bath after Billy had died. He stood up and placed the mirror onto the edge of the small windowsill. He looked at his reflection whilst he held the photo of the second man up against his face.

  "The only thing that can't be changed is the voice," Ross spoke in to the mirror.

  "Everything else is perfect, we don't look anything like each other!"

  Ross began to apply the products to himself. He watched as the transformation in the small mirror took place. He placed the contact lenses into his eyes carefully and not without difficulty. It was not that he struggled to get them into place, he hated the feeling of touching his own eye, however he knew that everything that he was doing was absolutely necessary for his gain.

  "Let's see if Mr McLaughlin can use his psychic abilities to piece together this part of the puzzle," he said as he adjusted the hair piece and set the artificial teeth in place.

  The man in the second photograph and staring back at Ross from the mirror was Mark.

  Twenty Eight

  Experimental investigations

  "Automatic writing?" Lang asked as Patrick laid out his equipment on the desk in Angela Noble's bedroom.

  "Yes Jim, automatic writing," Patrick replied.

  Paul Preston and Jim Lang had arranged for them and Patrick to visit the homes of the victims and have Patrick conduct some
experiments to see if they could come up with anything that could help the police in their investigations. At first the families of the girls were a little reluctant but with some encouragement and reassurance from Patrick they were able to access some personal belongings of the girls and he was able to come up with some experiments to get the information that they had all hoped for.

  "I can assure you Mrs Noble, I am genuine. I sincerely believe that I can help this case, I can get justice for your daughter," Patrick had said to Angela's mother.

  Mrs Noble had been clutching a scarf that Angela had been wearing on the night before she was murdered when she was discussing the process with Patrick.

  "If you give me permission to do this then I will require some of Angela's personal belongings, like some clothing, perhaps something from the night before it happened?"

  "Yes that's ok. I can give you this!" Mrs Noble's voice was fragile, cracking in between words as she held up the scarf, "She was wearing this the last time I saw her."

  "That would be extremely helpful Mrs Noble thank you and I promise to return all of the items I use and keep you well informed of anything that I find out from the experiments."

  Lang watched as Patrick arranged everything he needed for the experiment and felt completely out of the loop. "So, what exactly is it that you are doing?"

  Patrick sat down at the small desk in Angela's room and the scarf lay across it, "I am going to ask some questions in my head and if I get any reply then my message will be conveyed on a piece of paper."

  "You mean you will write it down?" Preston asked.

  "No, she will," Patrick said.

  "How is that possible?" Lang asked.

  Patrick was slowly beginning to lose his patience. "Right, remember how this all came about? I came to you, gave you my story, you both chose to allow me to work with you and then I gave you that reading Jim?" he paused as Lang met his gaze, "so how is it possible? Because I am a psychic medium Jim, it's my ability and I use it."

  Preston rolled his eyes. "I thought you two were past this?"

  "We are, I was only asking." Lang said defensively.

  "Well ask yourself how I knew what I did when I gave you that reading!"

  Lang said nothing as Patrick pulled out his large note pad and a pen. Preston put an arm on Patrick's shoulder, knowing something wasn't right. "You ok Patrick? You seem very tense today."

  Patrick realised how tense his shoulders were and he allowed them to slump, "I am tense. It's Jodie, she isn't very well. The doctor says it is stress and I think it is due to all of this."

  "I wasn't taking the piss Patrick, I genuinely didn't know what automatic writing was." Lang said.

  "I know, sorry for snapping at you. I shouldn't be getting stressed just before I'm about to do this or it won't work properly."

  Lang nodded in understanding, out of all the people in the world he knew how difficult it was to work under stress when there were personal problems going on.

  "Why would she be so stressed about your work?" Preston asked.

  "She is worried about me taking part in the case and she is having terrible anxiety attacks at really random times. She has been prescribed sleeping pills."

  "Sleeping pills?" Preston considered this. "Well, a few nights proper sleep and I am sure that she will be back to her normal self." Preston could see that Patrick did not believe this to be the truth and honestly he knew that his words did not offer any comfort to Patrick.

  "No, I don't think that the sleeping pills will settle her anxiety attacks."

  "Why not?" Lang asked

  "Because I think that the spirits of the girls are trying to communicate with me through her and for some reason I can't pick up the messages. It's causing the spirits to torment Jodie's mental well-being."

  Preston and Lang looked at Patrick feeling a little stunned. Lang was beginning to feel a little nervous now about the experiment which was about to commence.

  "Look, you said getting yourself stressed out before an experiment may cause it to fail. Why don't we get on with the job in hand and then we can continue this discussion after we have finished." Lang made it sound like a question but his words were firm.

  This was a serious murder inquiry and he couldn't help but feel like he was starring in a badly produced low budget film. The police had scanned hours of CCTV footage from the bars that the girls were all last seen in and footage from the various street cameras and to their frustration had found absolutely nothing that they could lead with. There had been no lead on the DNA samples that had been carried out after Rebecca's murder. Not so much as a hair had been found on any of the girls clothing. The case was at a standstill and Lang knew fine well that the public were not safe from the person who was responsible for the killings. He often thought to himself that maybe the murderer was a ghost seeing as there was nothing to lead the case a step further.

  Now he found himself in the bedroom of one of the victims, looking at various personal belongings on a table and talking to Patrick about his fiancée and her sleeping problems. Lang knew now that the spirit world was real, Patrick had proved this to him, but he still could not help but feel like all of this experiment stuff was just a little bit ridiculous.

  "Yes, you're right Lang, I need to focus. Could you switch out the light please?" Patrick motioned to the switch next to the bedroom door.

  Lang switched out the light. Oh for god sake! Does the room really have to be in darkness?

  Lang and Preston sat down on Angela Nobles bed as Patrick placed his pen to the paper, not in a way that he was ready to take notes with his pen at the top left hand side of the page, but directly in the middle. Patrick did not apply pressure as he did this but instead held the pen so gently that if he were to attempt to write with this pressure then it would not be possible.

  "Now what?" Lang whispered to Preston.

  "We wait, and we wait in silence," Preston replied sternly. The room was still, silent, like it was on a television screen and the viewer had pressed pause.

  "Angela, I'm here to help you. I am open to your spiritual presence," Patrick spoke quietly and slowly.

  Lang felt laughter rise from his stomach but he kept it in as he listened.

  "I feel your presence please give me your message."

  This is pointless, there is no way that a ghost is going to move that pen and actually write something on that piece of paper, Lang thought to himself.

  The silence somehow managed to deepen within the room. It sank into the darkness, the silence and darkness becoming one. A few more moments passed as Patrick sat with the pen resting gently on the paper.

  Preston sat completely still, his eyes never leaving Patrick. Lang's mind would have wandered by now in any other situation where he would have to stay silently still for this period of time, but not now.

  Now, the pen moved, slowly and in judder like movements across the page. Patrick's eyes were closed now and as Lang watched intensely, he could see that every single hair on Patricks arm stood on end, perfectly straight. Patrick's hand moved in small circular movements, quick at times. To Preston and Lang it looked as if Patrick were just making shapes. They were yet to see the words that Angela had written.

  Twenty Nine

  A black mist

  "Time is running out," Preston read this from the piece of paper.

  "Do not listen to them," Lang read aloud too.

  Patrick tried to make sense of the random words and sentences on the paper but he just couldn't understand them.

  "Don't listen to who?" Lang continued.

  "I have not got a clue Jim. Honestly... I'm stumped." Patrick shook his head in frustration.

  Patrick took the paper from Preston and looked at it feeling dumbfounded.

  Time is running out for what? He thought to himself. Time is running out for who?

  The men stood in Angela Nobles bedroom for sometime after Patrick had concluded the experiment. All three men were feeling completely lost with everything about th
e case.

  The words on the paper were scattered, none of which had any kind of ability to make sense of the murders.

  Preston cleared his throat. "You said that you wanted to talk to us about Jodie?"

  "Yes I did. I think I am going to take her away for a bit. She needs some time to get her head together, we both do."

  "Do you think that is a wise move, we're in the middle of a triple murder inquiry?" Lang sounded annoyed.

  Patrick looked dead into his eyes. "Yes Jim, a murder inquiry that is at a complete stand still."

  Silence filled the room for a few moments before Preston spoke out. "Look, I think it is safe to say that we all need a bit of a breather from this. Lets go for a coffee and then we can discuss it further. I don't think that we should talk about this here, out of respect."

  Patrick cleared away the equipment that he was using during the experiment and left the room to hand back Angela's scarf to Mrs Noble.

  "Paul, this is not working," Lang said when Patrick was out of the room.

  "What do you mean?" Preston asked.

  "This whole medium thing, it's just not working. I mean, do you think this is getting us any further?"

  Preston regarded Lang's comment. Was it working having Patrick on the case? He really wanted to believe that it was. But for whatever reason, Patrick just wasn't coming up with anything that Preston and Lang could investigate, but then, neither were they.

  Maybe Lang had been right. But then how would Lang explain his reading? Research?

  "All of this is giving me a headache. Let's call it a day and go for that coffee," Preston said.

  "Fine, but this is not going to go away, we have to make a decision," Lang replied bluntly. They left Angela Nobles room and went down stairs into the living room, where they found Patrick comforting Mrs Noble.