The Witch Hunt (Jonny Roberts Series Book 3)

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The Witch Hunt (Jonny Roberts Series Book 3) Page 14

by Alexander Lound


  But then I remembered the Facebook review. Peter certainly wasn’t innocent. Not by a long-shot.

  Peter’s cottage was a short drive from The Coriander. Aaron found a parking spot far enough from the cottage that we wouldn’t be seen, and close enough that we’d hear Alicia on the intercom. The street itself was almost pitch-black, the few cottages showing the odd living room light, but nothing more. As we’d approached, Aaron had turned off his headlights, wanting to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

  We watched as they climbed out of Peter’s Hyundai, which was mammoth-like next to his tiny cottage. Then they walked up the front path, making small-talk. The front door opening, then a flicker of light before it slammed shut.

  I sighed deeper into my seat. Aaron’s face had tightened, and he was staring at the intercom. “She needs to try and get him out of the room for a few minutes. If he goes to the kitchen to make some drinks or something, and she’s left alone, then she can have a hunt around his house.”

  “A hunt for what?”

  “Anything. Confirmation that he was really Josh Hunter would be a start. Anything linking him with Samantha Lowry would be even better.”

  I wondered why Peter would leave evidence of a murder lying around his home. It was extremely unlikely that we’d find anything linking him with Samantha, but I supposed that a confirmation of his old identity wasn’t out of the question.

  “What would you like to drink?” said Peter, his voice crackling over the intercom.

  “Oh, I really fancy a cocktail. What do you think?”

  “Hmm, I guess I could make us a cocktail. I have some whisky and some juices. I’ll see what I can rustle up. Do make yourself at home. The living room is just through there.”

  “Thank you.”

  Aaron grinned. “Genius. Making cocktails should keep him busy. Meantime, Alicia can have a good look around his lounge.”

  We both leaned a little closer to the intercom, heard the clicking of shoes on hard floor, probably Alicia walking across the living room. We hadn’t been into Peter’s lounge. I tried to picture it. I imagined solid-oak furniture; a retro armchair; a petit sofa.

  I heard two sharp breaths over the intercom. My heart tensed. Alicia was alert now, listening for any signs of Peter, who would no doubt be rustling around in the kitchen as he made their drinks. I heard a drawer sliding open, and a crunch as it closed. Another drawer opening. The rustling of paper, then a plastic bag or something. Drawer crunching. Drawer opening. Drawer crunching. Drawer opening.

  Nothing. I looked to Aaron. Aaron looked to me. We no longer heard breathing, or anything for that matter. Just a long, silent pause.

  “Is she alright?” I asked Aaron.

  Aaron raised a single finger to his lips. “I think she’s found something,” he whispered.

  What could it be? I wanted to be there with her, to learn what had drawn her attention for so long.

  Then, I heard a thud. I held my breath.

  “If you’re looking for my gun, it’s in the kitchen.”

  The words were like shrapnel in my ears. My heart seemed to stop, my mouth going dry. Aaron tensed beside me. His eyes widening, his hand grasping the intercom even tighter.

  Then, just as it felt like the air around us was about to split, we heard a short laugh.

  “I’m just kidding,” Peter said. “By the way, you won’t find anything in those drawers. Nothing of interest, at least.”

  Aaron mouthed a swear word, raised his hand to his face. I let my eyes roll upwards. The game was up.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Alicia said. I was amazed by how clear and confident she sounded, despite being caught rifling through Peter’s drawers. “It’s just, you know, I had a bad experience once.”

  “A bad experience? Come. Sit. Do tell.”

  It was subtle, but Peter’s tone had most certainly changed. Before, he’d been charming, kind, the perfect date. But now, his voice was tinged with suspicion.

  “Well, you know how it is. Not everyone is what they say they are on their dating profiles. I once went for a date with one man, and we went for a drink back at his. Only, he latched all the doors behind me. I know that doesn’t sound too terrible, maybe he just didn’t want to be burgled, I don’t know. But when I saw that he had a collection of samurai swords in his living room, and a DVD shelf dedicated to slasher movies, I put it all together.”

  “Oh my. What did you do?”

  “Safe to say I bolted, the first opportunity I got. Straight out the back door when he wasn’t looking. Never spoke to or saw him again, thank God.”

  Peter laughed. This time, it seemed a little more genuine. Maybe he was buying this story.

  “Well, hopefully I’ve passed the test,” said Peter.

  “I think so. As long as you don’t have any skeletons hidden in your closet, right?”

  They both laughed. I looked to Aaron as they clinked glasses, and he looked back to me. The question didn’t need to be spoken.

  What had been in that drawer, and why had Peter not wanted Alicia to see it?

  18

  Alicia got the taxi to drop her a couple of streets away. We listened as she paid the driver with a ten-pound note, which certainly stopped him from asking any questions.

  She’d stayed at Peter’s for two more cocktails. As she climbed into Aaron’s car, I noticed that she was a little light on her feet. I could smell something sweet on her breath as she shuffled into the back seats.

  Aaron and I turned to her. “You okay?” Aaron asked her. “Jesus, I was terrified when he brought up that gun.”

  Alicia made a face that said ‘tell me about it’. “I think my heart stopped beating for a second, especially after what you said about the Facebook review.”

  “And there definitely wasn’t any of that? He didn’t touch you in anyway?”

  “No, not at all. In fact, he was a gentleman for the whole evening.” Alicia frowned. “Though that isn’t to say he’s a normal bloke.”

  “We could tell something wasn’t quite right after the comment about the gun. Which brings me onto the most important point of all. What was in the drawer?”

  “It was some sort of book, and it had his name on. Josh Hunter.”

  I felt my eyes grow. “You’re kidding me? Josh Hunter? You sure?”

  She nodded. “As clear as day. It was scribbled in pen on the bottom corner of the book.”

  “And what was in the book?” I asked. I was leaning forwards now.

  “That was the thing. Literally, the second I went to pick it up, he appeared. He just sort of looked at me, almost like the way a parent would a naughty kid. Then I closed the drawer, and he said that thing about the gun.”

  “Christ,” said Aaron. “I didn’t realise he actually saw you looking through the drawer. I thought you managed to close it in time.”

  “No. He literally caught me red-handed.”

  Aaron turned back to the steering wheel, shook his head, his cowboy hat shaking with it. “So he is our man. Josh Hunter. Phil Tanner was right.” He growled in frustration. “We need to have a look at that book. It was clearly important in some way.”

  “Phil Tanner said that Peter changed his name about twenty years ago, so that book must be at least twenty-years-old,” I said.

  “Exactly. You wouldn’t hold onto a book like that if it wasn’t important in some way. The question is, why is it important?”

  Alicia chimed in, “All I know is that he got really weird with me after I’d been in that drawer. He started looking at me differently, almost as if he were trying to work out how much I’d seen.”

  Aaron leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms. “We need to get back into his house. We need to read that book.”

  He looked to me.

  “If you think I’m breaking into someone’s house again, you’ve got another thing coming.” I still remembered breaking into Victoria Harding’s house, when we’d been investigating Katy Johnson. On that occasion, I’d nearly been
caught by her and her silly little cat.

  Aaron smirked. “This time, we’ll go in together. And we’ll make sure that he’s out. There’s no missing that giant Hyundai, after all.”

  I sized it up. Realising we had little other choice, I said, “Fine. When do we do it?”

  “Tomorrow. I think we could all do with a sleep. Alicia, what do you want to do about your car?”

  “I’ve drunk far too much to drive,” she admitted. “I’ll get it in the morning. Take us back to your hotel room. It’ll be like uni all over again.”

  If going to university meant getting back at eleven and falling into bed within ten minutes, then I wasn’t too hyped. There were two beds in the room. Aaron agreed to sleep on the sofa, while Alicia and I took a bed each. Despite being an insomniac, Aaron seemed to have no trouble getting to sleep. Within minutes, I heard his quiet grumbles, soon turning to muffled bellows. Though Aaron’s snoring wasn’t the only thing that kept me awake.

  I was thinking about that book. I tried to picture it, and conjured a bound notebook, with Josh Hunter scrawled in cursive in the bottom corner. I wondered what it might be. A diary? A scrapbook? A plan to murder Samantha Lowry?

  When I wasn’t thinking about the book, I was thinking about Bella and Dad. I wondered whether or not Bella would have another of her night-time attacks. I prayed that she’d be okay, now that she was away from Greenacres. I hoped Dad would be okay, too. He’d been under a lot of pressure the past few months.

  After a time, my mind flicked to mine and Dad’s conversation that morning; or what may now have been the previous morning, I’d been lying awake so long. What he’d said about Cassy. That I should tell her how I felt. That I should try to reach out to her again.

  I sat up in bed, and looked to my phone, charging on the bedside table. I looked to Alicia, still and motionless. Meanwhile, Aaron’s snores rattled in my ears. I looked back to the phone again.

  And then I grabbed it, and typed, and typed, and typed.

  My eyes were dry and stodgy when I awoke. A soft grey light was creeping through the gaps in the curtains. It was bright enough that I could see Aaron, checking his phone on the hotel sofa. Alicia was still curled up in bed, just a shock of blonde hair emerging from the covers.

  In the end, Aaron had to shake her to wake her up. She seemed reluctant, until Aaron promised us all a fry-up in the hotel restaurant.

  Sat squirting ketchup onto my eggs, I said, “So, what’s the plan for today? We still breaking into Peter’s place?”

  Aaron rushed a finger to his lips. Alicia grinned. “Keep your voice down, Jonny. Blimey.” His eyes darted to the surrounding tables. Just a few families tucking into their own fry-ups. No interest in our conversation.

  “Are we doing it, though?”

  “Yes. We’ll go over there at some point this morning, and scope out his place. Shame he works from home. Hopefully, he has to pop out at some point. A few minutes would be enough. All we need is that book.”

  I continued to daydream about what might be in the book. What terrible thoughts might be hidden inside it.

  “How about you, Alicia?” Aaron asked now. “What you going to do?”

  Alicia had tied her hair into a loose bun. It bobbed as she said, “I’ll probably head home. I’ve got a lot of work to get back to.”

  “Another cheater to investigate, hey?” said Aaron with a smile.

  “Yeah, like I don’t get enough of them. Honestly, why can’t there be more faithful, honest people in the world?”

  I thought of Peter Abbott. How faithful and honest was he? Had we seen the true man last night? Was he really a gentleman, or was there something more sinister about him, lurking underneath the illusion?

  “I’ll give you a lift to your car once we’ve finished breakfast,” said Aaron.

  “Thanks. I wish I could stick around though, and help you guys a bit more with your case. I reckon this Peter guy might be a real creep, you know.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah. There was something just not quite right about him last night. It was weird, but – you know when you can look in someone’s eyes, and see that they’re hiding something? That everything about them isn’t quite as it seems?”

  Aaron nodded. There was certainly something not right about Peter. Of that there was no doubt.

  Aaron hugged Alicia as we stood by her car. The little red Mini was the only prick of light near The Coriander, which was now dark and empty, a total contrast to the bright, vibrant place it had been the evening before. Just a couple of tables were visible by the windows, the remainder of the restaurant sitting in gloom. The fairy lights had been extinguished, the sign an unhappy grey. A little like the sky, the clouds forming a thick duvet for the sun.

  “Don’t forget to keep in touch,” said Aaron, as Alicia pulled away from him.

  “I won’t. In fact, I was going to say, you should come to my birthday party next month. It’d be good to see you there.”

  “Sure,” said Aaron. “That’d be great.”

  It was my turn for a hug now. “It was really nice to meet you, Jonny. I hope everything goes well for you with this spirit. I hope your dad’s partner gets better.”

  I smiled. “Thanks. And thanks for all your help. It means a lot.”

  We watched as she reversed out of the parking space. Aaron gave her a final wave as she drove off.

  “Right, time for our stake-out, part two,” said Aaron, as we turned back to his car. Adrenaline surged through my veins, fighting off the food-coma from my fry-up. I was desperate to get my hands on that book. Desperate to find out what Peter was hiding.

  “We’ll get a coffee on the way.” Aaron clicked his seat-belt into place. “After all, who knows how long this is going to take.”

  We drove down Peter’s road three times, Aaron making a U-turn twice. I could feel my coffee swirling around its polystyrene cup as he did so, threatening to leap over its boundaries. But I was more concerned with checking the cars parked along the road.

  After the third time of passing, all doubt was removed from my mind.

  “Yep, his car’s definitely not here,” I said. It would be impossible to miss that giant, black Hyundai on one passing on a main road, let alone three down a quiet, country road.

  Aaron pulled into a parking space a little down the road from Peter’s. I stared at Peter’s house, as if I had x-ray vision. I pictured his living room, his drawers. That book. The secrets that he was so desperate to seclude.

  I prayed that the book would have something to do with Samantha Lowry, that it would give us some sort of lead. After all, there was always the chance that it might turn out to be something stupid. Or perhaps that Alicia had even imagined the suspicion in Peter’s eyes, that she’d been influenced to think negatively of him because of us. Maybe Peter really was a gentleman. Maybe that had been the real him last night. Maybe we should have been at home researching Jacob Tanner.

  “You ready?” Aaron asked me, returning me from my daydream. I looked at him. Blinked twice.

  “You not wearing your hat?” I asked him. His black cowboy hat was resting on his lap, his brown hair flicking across his forehead.

  “Nope. I think we need to make ourselves as inconspicuous as possible, and I don’t think a black cowboy hat quite matches the description.”

  I nodded. He had a point. I now noticed that where Aaron often sported gothic regalia, he was instead wearing a simple green t-shirt with blue jeans. No leather trench coat.

  “So, what’s the plan?” I asked him, looking once again to the cottage. A cosy little fort of a place, with thick stone walls and narrow windows.

  Aaron pulled a box of hairpins from his pocket. “The usual. Get a pin in the door, get inside, snoop around. Sound good to you?”

  “Sounds good.” Though I felt anything but good. My throat was dry and scratchy, and anxiety was building in my stomach. “Won’t we need a scout?”

  Aaron shook his head. “Not on this occasion
. There’s a back door in Peter’s kitchen. When I looked out of his window, I saw a garden, and a field behind it. If one of us keeps an eye on the window, then we can spot him if he comes back. If he does, we make a run for it. Understood?”

  “Understood.” If Peter caught us, we were in trouble. We might never be able to find out whether he was innocent, or guilty. And then we wouldn’t be able to help Samantha, and by extension, Bella. Not to mention I didn’t want someone that might have burned someone alive to find me breaking into their home.

  “Here, take these.” Now, Aaron was holding out a pair of leather gloves. “I know, they’re a bit posh, but they’ll stop you from leaving fingerprints everywhere.”

  I took the gloves, and pulled them over my palms. They were tight and leathery against my skin. Aaron, meanwhile, had put on a similar pair of gloves.

  My palms were sweaty beneath the gloves as I grabbed the car door handle, and stepped out into the cool, Peene air. I scanned the area as I walked, looking for any sort of movement. The shifting of a curtain, the bounce of a ball, the banging of bins. But, upon reaching the gravel front path, I’d seen nothing. The world was totally still. Breathless.

  Aaron’s eyes darted as he opened the front gate. His head flicked from side-to-side. Only once he was happy did he move forwards. I followed him, gently closing the gate behind me.

  Our feet crunched against the gravel path as we walked up to the front door. I grimaced, tried to soften my footfalls so that it wasn’t as if we were screaming: burglars, right here. Come and get us.

  After a few more nervous glances, Aaron and I crowded around the door. He slipped the box of pins from his pocket, and took one between his thumb and forefinger. I stood behind him, so that he was secluded from view. Then, he pushed the clip into the lock, and twisted.

  Once again, I remembered when I’d broken into Victoria Harding’s home, and it had taken me several painful minutes to unlock her back door with a hairpin. To my enormous relief, this time the door sprung open within seconds, as if Aaron had somehow magicked it open.

 

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