‘Five sword wounds,’ said Emily. ‘Just like Danny.’
Reverend James scanned the sermon he was meant to give on the sixth day, then hesitated. I could see what he was thinking. This would incriminate him. He shook his head and slammed the book closed. ‘I don’t know what to make of this. Every time. Satan is mocking us.’
‘It makes sense to me,’ I said, counting on my fingers. ‘Glen stoned to death, Stephen beheaded, Mike drowned, and now Danny impaled on five swords. Just like the martyrs on each of the days of Christmas. Very coincidentally like the book, and very much in line with the sermons you planned to hit us with.’ I let the ideas sink in. The others flicked their stares from me to him. ‘You can’t seriously believe this is the work of supernatural agents.’
Reverend James placed his trembling hand over his heart. ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s the work of Satan.’
I could tell by the expression on Emily’s face that we shared the same thought. Only a madman would do this. A meticulous, Biblical fanatic with intimate knowledge of torture, martyrdom and the religious meanings of the twelve days of Christmas. And there was only one madman present with that knowledge.
Alison and Linda whispered together, and then called Emily and Suzanne over. ‘Excuse us, Reverend,’ said Alison, ‘we need to go to the loo.’
Reverend James frowned. ‘Not alone. All together.’
‘I’ll go with them,’ I said.
‘No,’ said Alison. ‘Not you. We’re fine, thank you.’
‘At least take a weapon of some sort,’ I said. I still had a niggling fear that the concierge, or the castle owner, in cahoots with Reverend James, was hiding somewhere in the castle.
The women took kitchen knives and moved as one organism out of the room. That left us two men together alone, me and the killer. Surely it was I who needed protection. I also drew a knife from the kitchen drawer. ‘Just in case the killer attacks while they’re gone,’ I said.
Not to be outdone, Reverend James also took a knife from the drawer. He placed it on the table in front of him. A truce, of sorts; a mini nuclear cold war.
We stared down each other, two adversaries making no pretence of the hostility between us. If Reverend James was innocent, then he would no doubt suspect me. He pulled up his chair close to me so he could speak in his low, God-like voice. ‘I want to be honest with you, Rafe. You need God back in your life. That is what this is all about. You need to repent. God can forgive, even at this late stage.’
I could not believe what I was hearing. I gripped the knife tight in my hand. ‘What do you mean, what this is all about? You mean the murders?’
He pressed his fingers together, looked at me through them like he had done all those years ago when he’d summon me to his rectory office as a school kid. ‘You backslid, Rafe. I held the most promise for you. You were a leader in the Church. Why did you lose faith?’
I shook my head. ‘I lost my delusions, my prison bars.’
Reverend James bunched his fingers into a fist. ‘Will nothing bring you back to the Lord? Not murder, not fear of death? That is what is happening here. God is using Satan’s handiwork to get us to repent, recommit ourselves. The Bible–’
But I was not going to be preached at by this man with his archaic beliefs. Not now. ‘The Bible was written by men, not God. It is largely plagiarised from other religions. I refuse to let this conglomerate of jumbled stories from primitive patriarchal cultures dictate my life.’
He leaned back, smiled. He was not listening to a word I said, I could tell. ‘Fancy words, Rafe. Fancy academic words, but the Word of God remains–’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Your word.’
He tensed up. ‘There is only one God.’
‘Yes, yours. And people who don’t believe in your God are cast into hell. Or persecuted. Or killed.’
He stood. ‘What are you saying?’
I had to be careful here. I kept close to the table in case he lunged for the knife. I would not have put that past him, he looked so angry. ‘Religious zealots kill for their beliefs. I think we’re seeing it here. Some madman who thinks he can execute us one by one,’ I said.
He jabbed his finger in the air to emphasise every word. ‘Satan is the destroyer of life, not God. You want to destroy my faith? Never. Satan is inside you and you don’t even know it.’
I retreated to the fireplace. Staring into the flames, I kept my eye on the poker in case he tried any tricks. ‘So there we have it. I’m Satan, you’re a religious fanatic.’
Silence.
I turned and he was sitting again, his face in his hands. When he spoke, his voice was cracked. ‘Rafe, I wanted us all to gather here for Christmas to put Christ back into Christmas. To renew our faith. I’m not a murderer.’ He stared at the Christmas tree, which twinkled and flashed and glittered, seeming to mock him.
‘Hold on!’ I stiffened. ‘Wait, did you hear that?’
‘Jesus save us!’ Reverend James reached for his knife and brandished it at the doorway. I heard a thump then a bang down the corridor. Thump, thump, thump. It sounded, in my state of fear, like someone dragging a dead body down the stairs. I reached for my knife too and dashed into the corridor.
Only to find Alison, Linda, Emily and Suzanne coming down in a long troop, dressed in mittens, scarves and hats. Emily wore a satchel on her back and Suzanne’s bag was slung over her shoulder. Alison was dragging a large suitcase behind her. I lowered my knife.
‘What is this?’ said Reverend James over my shoulder, still grasping his knife.
Alison zipped up her jacket. ‘We’re not staying a minute longer. We’re leaving. You too, Reverend.’
Open mouthed, Reverend James stared at Linda, and she shrank back, hiding behind Alison. ‘Linda? What are you going to do?’ he thundered. ‘Order a cab? Walk out of here? You can’t take a suitcase!’
‘We’ve had enough,’ said Alison. ‘Enough.’ She pulled her suitcase past me towards the front door as if she fully intended to drag it outside through the snow.
Emily looked determined too. ‘If the men don’t, we women have a plan – walk to the town. There is a road. We can do it.’
‘Or die trying,’ added Suzanne, joining the two other women at the front entrance.
Reverend James lunged ahead of them and barred the front door. ‘It’s dangerous.’
‘Dangerous?’ echoed Suzanne, with a laugh. ‘And staying here is not?’
He stood with arms crossed. ‘Ye of little faith–’
‘Faith has nothing to do with it, Reverend,’ said Suzanne, her face taut. ‘Someone has died here every single night. I’m not staying here to find out when it’s my turn. You heard that recording. You said it was a hoax, but after four horrible deaths, it ain’t no hoax.’
I pushed past the women. ‘I’m coming too, then.’
Alison stiffened. ‘You weren’t invited.’
‘I’m not letting you go alone,’ I said. ‘We all go. No one splits up.’
Reverend James stood resolute at the front door. Linda, Alison and Suzanne now turned and made for the kitchen where we could hear them gathering supplies. Then he marched into the kitchen and we heard raised voices.
I caught Emily’s arm. ‘You can’t just walk into ice and snow.’
She shook me off, her expression cool. ‘The way I figure it is this – Mike didn’t even leave the castle grounds. The roads might be totally walkable. We’re just assuming we’re snowed in, but what if we’re not?’
I held her arm. ‘Mike was murdered out there.’
She stopped, and her resolute expression softened. ‘But if we go in a group, we’ll be safe. You coming then?’
I nodded. ‘Let me bundle up too and I’m out of here.’
I stared at Alison’s suitcase. ‘She really thinks she’s going to take that?’
Emily shook her head. ‘She’s beside herself with fear, Rafe. She can’t think straight.’
Reverend James walked through t
he kitchen door, Linda and Alison following him. ‘I’m staying. And my wife is staying too.’
Emily glowered at him. ‘Why are you so stubborn, Reverend James?’
‘Having faith in God is being stubborn? Yes, it is, Emily. Haven’t I taught you anything? Abraham wrestled with God until he got what he wanted. He didn’t take no for an answer. God wants us to be stubborn, steadfast, resolute.’
Linda took off her coat and sat next to her husband. ‘I’m staying.’
Suzanne gave her an incredulous look. ‘You really are staying? In the loo, we all agreed to go.’
Linda linked arms with her husband, looking brave. ‘We’re staying.’ But her terrified eyes told a different story.
There was a reason I did not insist that Reverend James and his wife follow. I wanted to test a hypothesis. I watched them as the other women prepared to brave the weather. Emily had pushed Alison’s suitcase behind the door.
The Reverend did not show any fear. Anger, betrayal, self-righteousness, yes, but no fear. Either he was truly a man of great faith, or he had no need to be afraid because… well, he was the killer.
Suzanne peered back at the couple in the living room. ‘I can’t believe they’re going to stay behind.’
I shrugged my shoulders. ‘We can’t force them.’
I opened the front door, steeled myself against the cold and took the lead. My plan was to follow where I believed the road lay, all the way down the mountain, stop for rests, keep everyone warm and get to the village. But as soon as I stepped outside, I knew it was a mistake, that we would never make it. The weather had deteriorated again. The wind gusted sideways, and a sudden squall of sleet reduced visibility to almost zero. The road I wanted to naïvely follow was gone – a blanket of grey and white amorphous landscape. Snow in the courtyard had banked up and in corners the drifts looked deep. As a test, I crunched onto the frozen pathway from the front entrance towards the road. My leg sank into an icy drift that threatened to swallow me.
‘Hang on,’ I yelled to the women behind me.
Alison waded past me. ‘I’m going.’
‘Be careful!’ Emily edged forward.
Alison took one step past me, slipped and disappeared in the whiteness.
‘Shit!’ I waded after her, pulled her up. ‘You okay?’
She shook me off. ‘Don’t touch me!’ She tried to go forward again. ‘You were not meant to come.’
Mist swirled up from the valley, sleet attacked us, wind roared in my ears. My face was already numb. I watched her fall again. Reaching forward, I pulled her up and we stumbled back to the entrance.
‘Leave me alone!’ She wriggled out of my grasp.
‘No way we can make the journey,’ I told the others.
Suzanne peered over the edge. ‘Is there any other way down?’
Alison brushed the snow off her and glared at me. ‘You don’t want us to go. You want us all killed. You’re the one who wants us dead. I know it.’ She thrust her finger in my face. ‘You and your heathen friend Emily always whispering together, sneering at us, undermining our faith. You just came here to mock us.’
Emily tried to put an arm around her, but she violently pushed her away. ‘Calm down, Ali, you’re hysterical.’
But she let Suzanne embrace her. ‘Let’s go back to the castle. You’re freezing.’
‘I’m not going back in there with him.’ She pointed at me, covered her face, and began sobbing and convulsing. ‘Just keep him away from me.’
Suzanne led her away. ‘Come.’
She let Suzanne support her as she stood and stumbled back towards the front door.
Emily and I watched them open the door. My nose and mouth were numb, my sinuses crackling, a headache pulsing in my right temple. I turned to Emily. ‘I’m the suspect, then.’
‘Yes, of course. It was her idea, Ali’s, to get away. She wanted to leave you behind. She hates you. She hates me. She doesn’t know where to turn.’
‘Poor Ali.’
She stopped. ‘Now tell me what’s going on between you and Suzanne.’
‘Not here in this freezing wind.’ I began leading her to the castle where Ali and Suzanne were already opening the front door. We found a sheltered portico and huddled against the wall out of the wind.
Emily pointed to the front door where Suzanne had just gone through. ‘She’s playing you so well. Don’t you see? It’s just like old times.’
I wrapped my arms around her. ‘I have something to tell you.’
She leaned into me for warmth. ‘What?’
‘When I last saw him alive, Danny had a note in his hand… from Suzanne.’
She jabbed me in the stomach. ‘I knew it. She’s guilty as sin. Tell me more.’
I glanced at the closed front door, making sure no one was about. ‘He was carrying it when he wandered into the library, then it was on his bedside table when I returned, which is why I thought he was back in his bed. I read it, but when I rushed up later to retrieve it, it was gone. Reverend James was the only one who could have taken it. And put it there in the first place.’
Emily whistled. ‘What did it say?’
‘It invited Danny to a secret tryst. And it reeked of her perfume.’
She slapped her thigh. ‘I knew it!’ But then she gave me a suspicious look. ‘And what was she doing in the room with you? Trying to seduce you out of putting her down as a suspect? You’re falling for it, you know.’
I shook my head. My face was numb with cold. ‘She came to tell me that she had a note too. She claimed Danny had given it to her, asking her to meet at midnight.’
She frowned. ‘Wait, I’m confused. There were two notes?’
I pulled the note out of my pocket, but it was hard to read in the freezing sleet and my hands were shaking – from the cold and from the accusation. Emily’s scorn was not something to brush off lightly.
Emily’s teeth chattered. ‘She set up a secret tryst with Danny?’
‘I think she’s being set up.’
She smiled at me. ‘Sure, sure. She’s innocent. And you’re not biased at all.’
‘Emily…’
‘Maybe. Or, as I said before, she wants you to think she’s being set up.’ She gave a sigh of exasperation. ‘She manipulates people. She’s an actor. She’s playing us all. Including you.’
I turned her face towards mine so I could look in her eyes. I saw the scorn there, but a dancing merriment too. ‘I don’t know if it’s play-acting or not, but she’s in as much distress as the rest of us. We’re all scared.’
‘You fall for it every time.’
‘You underestimate me.’
She smiled, as much as you could smile in this cold. ‘Nothing has changed, has it? Amazing how it still gives me the shits. It’s sickening and yes, disconcerting to watch every man dissolve when she’s in the room, and every woman go mad with envy.’
I held her face, saw that she was never going to let this go. It must hurt her more deeply than I thought. ‘Was Suzanne in the room with you last night? The whole time?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. And I should know, I was awake the whole frigging night. Scared the others would do me in. So I locked the door. Kept the key. No one could have got out.’
She shivered. ‘Come on, let’s get back inside. I’m freezing.’
We crunched on the hard snow towards the front door. ‘My prime suspect is still Reverend James.’
‘But he was with you the whole time last night.’
‘Snoring. But I fell asleep and when I woke in the morning, he was gone.’
We had reached the front door. We stopped again, and Emily turned to me. ‘I have to agree with you: much as I suspect Suzanne, I think Reverend James set the whole thing up. He arranged the venue, the twelve days, and he said every day would reveal something. Each of us destined to die on a certain day, in a particular way.’
‘But Suzanne is still acting very weird for a supposed innocent victim.’
‘The women think
it’s you. You were the last person to see Danny alive. We only have your word. You led him to the torture museum, trapped him in the coffin thing, and then set up his pillow to look as if he was still asleep, then raised the alarm. You met Stephen in the torture museum. If we weren’t blood brother and sister, I would think it looks pretty suspicious.’
I nodded. It was suspicious. If I was them, I’d suspect me too. ‘Then Ali must suspect you too. We met Glen in his room before he died. We were outside when we found Mike drowned.’
‘I don’t blame Ali. Motive – we’re heathens. Motive, means, opportunity, all boxes ticked.’
I reached for the door handle. ‘Can we go inside now? I’m freezing my arse off.’
‘Just keep an eye on the Reverend. And,’ she added, ‘the actress. Or rather, stop keeping an eye on her. It’s nauseating.’
I spent the rest of the day watching each of them. Observing, making sure no one slipped away. They in turn watched one another… and me, all of us wary, resigned to being imprisoned here.
‘Supper is served!’ Linda called out, as if this was an ordinary day and nothing was amiss. It was something she had to hold on to, I could see – the semblance of normal domestic life when all was crumbling around her. And I was sure her faith too was crumbling. I had been watching her carefully ever since I found out she’d had an affair with Glen. So she was not the meek wife I had always believed her to be.
Her husband’s faith was certainly not crumbling, or else he was using it as a smokescreen. But he had one of those unchangeable fixed minds. I found him as rigid, intolerant, unbending and impenetrable as ever. All the signs of a sociopath, a murderer even.
Alison? Alison had lost it.
Suzanne was still a mystery to me, and my feelings wavered between sympathy and suspicion. She was either a victim or a very good actor. Could she be the black widow spider in the centre of this web? I did not know. I had no grounds for motive here. But instinct told me not to trust her. Not to trust myself.
Twelve Days Page 14