The Colour of the Soul

by Richard T. Burke

  “So?” Dan asked.

  “Well there’s obviously something in your daughter’s abilities, but infidelity isn’t yet a criminal offence. Let’s just say his wife thinks he’s away on business. ... Oh shit, that’s all we need.”

  The three members of the family followed the direction of the policeman’s gaze. An attractive woman with shoulder-length blond hair and wearing a figure-hugging blue skirt with matching jacket strode across the foyer. Two men trailed in her wake, one of them carrying a large video camera, the other clutching a clipboard.

  “Hello, Alan,” the woman said in a bright voice.

  “I’ve got nothing to tell you, Veronica. Now please give us some privacy.”

  The reporter flashed an icy smile. “So the police don’t require any help at the moment? I can have the name and a description of the man you’re looking for on the morning news if you work with me on this.”

  “I have your number if I need it, thank you. We’ll have a statement in a couple of hours I should think.”

  “How’s a girl supposed to get her beauty sleep?” Her gaze shifted across to Annalise and her parents. “Don’t I know you from somewhere? Ah, that’s right. You’re the girl who’s just woken up from the coma, aren’t you? Are you involved in all this?”

  “Don’t talk to her,” Billings said, turning his back on the camera that had suddenly appeared from behind the reporter and was pointing at his face. He leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. “Look, why don’t we go down to the police station? We’ll be away from the press, and it’ll be easier to coordinate our activities from there. You’ll hear any news from our officers as soon as we receive it.”

  “Okay. What about our bags?” Dan asked.

  “I’ll get somebody to drop them off. I can drive. My car’s outside.”

  Billings spun around and headed towards the revolving door. The cameraman jogged to keep up. The policeman waited for the family and ushered them through while he held up a hand blocking the lens. “It’s that one,” he said pointing.

  “Phone me, Alan,” the woman called to his back.

  “Bloody piranhas,” he muttered under his breath.

  Chapter 45

  Dan and Sophie Becker sat beside each other in the waiting room at Steadmore police station. Sophie grasped Dan’s hand tightly between her own. Annalise lay sideways across a pair of chairs she had pushed together.

  “Can I get you a tea or a coffee?” Billings asked, staring down at them.

  Sophie shook her head. “No thanks. Is there any news?”

  “Nothing so far. I’ll inform you the moment we hear anything.”

  Dan raised his eyes to meet the detective’s. “Who was that woman with the camera?”

  “That was the delightful Veronica Stimpson. She’s a freelance reporter who makes her money by selling her work to the local and national press. She works across all the media: print, video and online. If something bad happens, she’s the first there. She’s like a fly around shit if you’ll pardon the expression. Her feelers seem to extend into every aspect of law enforcement. I’ve no idea who her sources are, but she always seems to be one step ahead of the opposition.”

  “What she said about having a name and description on the morning news, doesn’t that make sense?”

  “Once we’re sure who we’re looking for, then yes.”

  “What are you talking about? We know that bastard, Webber, texted my daughter.”

  “There’s still time to get an appeal for information on breakfast television, but once we release a statement, the phones won’t stop ringing. Half the population will think they’ve seen a man with a young girl in a car behaving suspiciously. It takes a lot of people to field the phone calls and sort the wheat from the chaff. We need to be absolutely sure before we set something like that in motion.”

  “But he could be anywhere by now.”

  “Look, Mr Becker, we’re doing everything we can to find your daughter.” Billings glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid almost nobody watches the news at a quarter to eleven at night. If we think it will help, we’ll make sure it’s on the breakfast programmes.”

  “What about getting inside the sealed files you were talking about earlier? Can’t you get hold of a judge now we’re certain Webber is involved in my daughter’s abduction?”

  “At the moment, the only evidence is the text on Beatrice’s phone. We are working on it though.”

  Dan pushed himself upright. “For Christ’s sake, are you seriously suggesting it might be somebody else?”

  Billings raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m not saying that. At the current time, we don’t even know if she was coerced into going with him.”

  Dan gave a snort of disbelief. “Really? You think she’d just leave her phone on the grass? The damned thing was practically welded to her hand.”

  Despite lying down, Annalise had been listening to the conversation. Now she sat up. “Why don’t we call Mrs Haseldene and see if she would be willing to do the hypnosis session earlier? That way we’d know if what’s in the file is important.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Dan said. “Do you have her number?”

  “No, but I can find it out quickly.” Annalise’s fingers flew over the screen as she opened a browser window and performed a search. “Right, I’ve got her website. It must be on the page somewhere. Ah, here it is.” She handed the phone to her father. “Just press the green dial button.”

  Dan held the device to his ear, pacing backwards and forwards as he waited. “Damn, it’s gone to answer machine. I’ll try again.” He prodded the icon a second time. After five rings, a male voice answered. “Mr Haseldene? I’m sorry to call you so late, but I’m at Steadmore police station. My daughter, Annalise Becker, is one of your wife’s patients. Would it be possible to speak to her? It’s really important.” He lowered the handset and whispered, “He’s fetching her. Apparently, she’s in bed.”

  The line remained silent for several seconds. Dan continued to pace. He pulled the phone away from his face to confirm the connection was still active.

  “Ah, Mrs Haseldene, I mean Rachel. Sorry to wake you. It’s Dan Becker, Annalise’s father. My other daughter, Beatrice was abducted tonight.”

  “... Yes, you heard me right. That’s why it’s so urgent. The main suspect is the man who was in the car with Annalise when she had the accident. The information locked in her head might help to explain what’s going on. Is there any chance we could do the hypnosis earlier?”

  “... We’re at the police station.”

  “... You could do it now? That would be great. I just have to check something. Hang on a sec.” He turned to the policeman. “Can you spare—?”

  Billings answered before he could complete the question. “I’ll get somebody to take her over,”

  Dan returned the mobile to his ear. “That’s fine. She’ll be there in ten or fifteen minutes. I really appreciate you doing this, Rachel.” He ended the call and handed the phone back to Annalise.

  “I’ll just go and sort it out,” Billings said. “I suggest you and your wife remain here during the consultation in case something comes up, as long as you’re happy with that. My man will wait outside and return her when they finish.” He waved a card at the reader and pushed through the door leading into the secure part of the building.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Dan asked, turning to his daughter.

  “No problem. This all ties back to Mark somehow, and we need to know why.”

  Dan resumed his pacing. “What are they up to?” he muttered, glancing at his watch.

  The sound of somebody entering through the main entrance drew all eyes in the room. The disgruntled figure of Tony Davies stormed into the waiting area. Gone was the smart suit and tie. In their place was a pair of jeans, an open checked shirt and a pale blue V-necked jumper. “I might have guessed you’d be at the root of this,” he said, glaring at Annalise. “It’s supposed to be my night off, a
nd I get seven messages on my voicemail telling me I’ve got to come in urgently. I spoke to your boyfriend this afternoon and repeated what you told me. In the end, he confessed that he had, in fact, been driving, but he claimed you were the one who caused the accident by grabbing the steering wheel from him. You already admitted to that on the tape. The only difference now is that I’m going to prosecute the both of you. So what the hell is this all about?”

  For several seconds, the three members of the Becker family stared back at the policeman in shock. Dan was the first to recover. A mask of rage descended on his features. He took a step forward and smashed his fist into the surprised man’s face.

  Davies stumbled and dropped to his knees, his hand held to the broken nose that was already spewing blood over the white tiled floor.

  “You worthless piece of shit,” Dan yelled, the spittle flying from his lips. He readied himself to launch another blow.

  “Stop!” Sophie screamed, grabbing at her husband. The door behind them crashed open and three men rushed out, Alan Billings amongst them. The other two barged Sophie out of the way, each of them seizing one of Dan’s arms.

  Davies stuck out a trembling finger towards Dan. “Arrest that man. He just assaulted me.” His words came out with a wet sound as the blood dribbled from the corner of his wounded mouth.

  Dan shook his head and tried to break free from the vice-like grip of the two men. “That wanker comes in here and starts laying into my daughter about the driving thing when that bastard, Webber, is on the loose doing God knows what to my Beatrice.”

  Davies stared uncomprehendingly at Billings. “What’s going on?”

  The man holding Dan's right arm replied. “If you had bothered to call before storming in here, Toenails, you would’ve learned that Mark Webber has abducted their other daughter. That’s why we called you in.”

  Billings strolled over to his stricken colleague and held out a hand. Davies brushed away the offer of help and staggered to his feet. He extracted a handkerchief from the pocket of his jeans, leaving a bloodstain where he touched the denim material. “I don’t care what happened to his daughter, I’m taking this higher.”

  “Yeah, just like you did with Dave Nixon,” sneered the man who had used Davies’ nickname to his face. “By the way I bumped into him the other day. He’s working security at the local supermarket thanks to you. He said if I saw you, to tell you to go screw yourself.”

  Billings stepped between the pair. “Alright, John, that’s enough.” He turned to Davies. “So did you visit Mr Webber this afternoon?”

  The injured man glowered at him for a second then nodded his head.

  “There’s nothing on the system yet. What did he have to say?”

  “I was planning to write it up tomorrow. I interviewed him at his flat. Like I just told them earlier, he admitted he was driving, but he said she grabbed the wheel and caused the accident.”

  “Did he mention why?”

  Davies dabbed at his nose with the handkerchief and flicked a glance at Annalise. “No. Apparently she suddenly went crazy.”

  “How did he appear?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What mood was he in? What was his state of mind?”

  “I don’t know. He was subdued, I guess, as if he knew all along he’d be found out.”

  “Did he talk about trying to get even?”

  Davies shook his head. “With the girl? No. If anything he was entirely the opposite. He kept saying he was sorry.”

  “And you told him you planned to prosecute?”

  “Yeah. At the very least he can be done for perverting the course of justice, let alone the driving offence.”

  “What time did you leave him?”

  “It must have been five o’clock, maybe five fifteen. What did he do anyway?”

  “It seems he was in contact with the Beckers’ younger daughter. They’ve been staying at Mandrake House because of the attack and burglary. She said she was going out for some air then disappeared. We found her phone outside the hotel on the grass. On it was a text message from Webber saying he’d just arrived.”

  “So what’s the problem? It looks like she went with him willingly.”

  The man holding Dan’s arm tightened his grip.

  Billings frowned. “It’s unlikely she’d drop her mobile. She didn’t say anything to her parents about meeting him. His phone is turned off, and he’s not at home.”

  “I’m guessing the fact he was seeing both daughters could have been awkward. Perhaps they decided to elope.”

  “Beatrice isn’t like that,” Dan growled.

  Davies shrugged. “I’ll take your word for it. Anyway, I’ve told you everything I know. If this grilling is over, I’ll go and clean myself up. Then I’m going home.” He pointed a finger at Dan. “And you can expect a notice of prosecution.”

  Chapter 46

  Annalise pointed towards the spacious house. “That’s the one.”

  The police car pulled to the kerb in front of the wrought iron gates. The driver was the man named John who had restrained her father earlier that evening. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard: ten minutes to midnight.

  “I’ll wait out here,” the policeman said. Other than asking for directions, they were the first words he had uttered.

  “Thanks. Hopefully, I won’t be more than an hour.”

  The man shrugged. “Whatever. They’re paying me overtime, so take as long as you like.”

  Annalise exited the car and stared along the quiet residential road. Fifty yards away, two men hurried down the pavement engaged in a low conversation, their shoulders hunched in the chilly night air. A solitary streetlight cast an orange glow. The silhouettes of the houses stood out against the star-speckled sky, all sharp lines and angles. Slivers of light escaped from several of the upstairs windows. She lifted the latch on the gate and approached the front door. Through the frosted glass panel, a table lamp illuminated the hallway. She pressed the doorbell and immediately saw movement.

  What the hell was going on? Her sister was missing, kidnapped by a man who, until recently, she had been contemplating marrying. She shuddered inwardly at the thought of how much time she had spent with somebody who could do such a thing. But what exactly was he capable of? She tried to think of examples of his behaviour that might have been an indicator but came up blank. He had always appeared calm and controlled. Nothing ever seemed to annoy him. She had never seen him get angry about anything. Was that a clue? Perhaps he hid his real feelings behind a mask. Maybe he was a psychopath who possessed no true emotions.

  Her musings were interrupted as the door opened. A tired looking Rachel Haseldene greeted her. “Do come in.”

  “Thanks for seeing me at this time of night.”

  “I’m happy to assist. I take it there’s no update on your sister.”

  “No, she’s still missing. We’re all just hoping I have something in my head that can help find her. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

  “Obviously, I can’t promise anything. As I said in our last session, my feeling is that the memories are still there, but your subconscious is trying to protect your conscious mind.”

  “Actually, an important memory did return. I was at the police station and had a sudden flashback to the accident. It turns out I wasn’t the driver after all.”

  The hypnotherapist smiled. “Well that’s good news on two counts: one, that you’re remembering things, and two, that you’re not responsible for the crash.”

  Annalise frowned. “I’m not so sure about the second of those. When the police interviewed Mark, he admitted he was driving but still claimed it was my fault because I grabbed the steering wheel from him.”

  “Well, let’s get started.” Rachel advanced along the hall towards the rear door.

  As they passed the kitchen, a middle-aged man in a tartan dressing gown stuck his head out. “I’ll wait up for you, Rachel.”

  “Don’t bother, Niall. We could be a w
hile.”

  The man took a sip from a hot drink. “I won’t be able to sleep, anyway.”

  “My husband,” Rachel said, glancing at Annalise as she unlocked the door. She bent down, picked up a large black torch then led the way outside. As they departed the semicircle of brightness emanating from the house, she flicked the on switch. A powerful beam cut through the darkness, illuminating the path through the garden to the consulting room.

  Rachel walked ahead, Annalise following a short distance behind. The shadowy outlines of the bushes and shrubs crowded in as Annalise trailed the bobbing shaft of light. When they reached the building, Rachel fumbled in her pocket and withdrew a key. Annalise scrunched up her eyes at the sudden brightness from the wall lights.

  “It’s the same routine as before.” Rachel gestured towards the far end of the room. “You can lie down on the couch or take the armchair, whichever you’re most comfortable with.”

  Annalise selected the armchair once again and adjusted her position as she sank down into the soft upholstery. In the meantime, Rachel set the torch down and grabbed a clipboard from the nearby desk.

  The hypnotherapist lowered herself into the chair facing her patient and consulted her notes. “The process will be identical to last time. I’m going to put you into a deeply relaxed state. Just to reiterate, I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to. You’ll be conscious throughout. If I sense you’re getting distressed, I’ll bring you back as soon as I can. Is that all okay?”

  Annalise nodded.

  “Now this may take a little longer than our first session. Obviously, you’re under a degree of stress or we wouldn’t be here this late at night. For that reason, I’ll spend a bit more time hypnotising you. If you’re ready, we’ll get started. Please close your eyes.”

  Rachel repeated the method she had adopted twelve hours earlier. She asked Annalise to imagine she was floating in the sea beside a desert island. She continued the description until the girl’s breathing slowed to a deep and regular pattern. The body relaxation followed, starting at the head and working down to the toes. In the final stage, she took Annalise back to the morning of Saturday, the twenty-ninth of April, the previous year.