by Sarah Barrie
She sat on the top one, slipped down to the next, then the next. She closed her eyes, prayed, and continued silently down the stairs into the darkness.
* * *
‘Guess I put my foot in it again,’ Tess said. ‘With the witchcraft stuff.’
‘We didn’t know,’ Connor said, sitting on Tess’s lounge in front of the television fighting Logan for the popcorn.
‘Can’t help but feel sorry for her,’ Indy said.
‘But she was the one who brought up Winston the ghost,’ Logan reminded them.
‘What was that about, anyway?’ Indy asked. ‘She said something about a séance in the asylum?’
‘Caused a lot of trouble,’ Logan said. ‘The thing they supposedly let loose was named Winston after someone claiming to be a psychic medium said she’d channelled him. He was a bootmaker in life.’
‘How do you know all this stuff?’ Connor asked. ‘We did grow up in the same house, right?’
‘Yeah but you quit scouts a year before I did. We snuck into Willow Court on our Easter campout and Jacob Lancefield told us the stories.’
‘I bet they were as accurate as the ones about all his hot girlfriends,’ Connor said. ‘Every kid in town wanted to get a look in that place. I never thought about breaking into it though.’
‘No. But you were always Mr Goody Two Shoes.’
‘I object to that.’
‘Of course you do. Anyway, the story goes a few of the night staff held a séance in the asylum. The supervisor walked in on them and they didn’t have time to close the circle. Fast forward a few years and the staff are reporting weird music, things moving by themselves, apparitions and attacks. The people in charge called in three high-ranking religious officials to deal with it. How often do you hear about a government agency sanctioning a house cleansing?’
‘Yeah. Right,’ Indy said.
‘Hey, it made world news. Even CNN was interested.’
‘So Winston, huh? I wonder if he knows Jonah,’ Connor said.
Indy’s phone rang and she groaned. ‘Work …’ Then she jumped to her feet. ‘What? The house or the cottage?’
Connor’s heart jumped in his chest. Callie’s cottage? Was Callie hurt? In danger? Hell—had Adam turned up there after all?
‘Call Detective Denham. I’m on my way.’ Indy dropped her phone in her pocket and headed for the door.
Connor was on his feet too. ‘What happened?’
‘No,’ Indy ordered firmly. ‘Stay put.’ Then she disappeared.
Every second was killing him. He couldn’t wait here to find out what had happened to Callie.
Then: ‘Okay, that’s long enough,’ Tess said. ‘Let’s go.’
CHAPTER
34
Another vicious attack at the door shook her thoughts. Desperately, she scanned the darkness. There were two tiny lights. The black glow she’d seen from the stairs had to be a computer monitor. She carefully crept closer and skimmed her fingers over the desk, searching for a mouse. Finding it, she slid it side to side. The screen came to life. The desktop lit up with a picture of her in the garden. From the glow of the screen she made out shapes in the room. Pictures. The walls were full of images of her, doing all sorts of things during the day and night in and around the cottage. There were some—oh God—from inside the cottage. One from a vantage point behind the lounge, a few of her in the bathroom, more of her sleeping.
‘I’m coming in, Callie.’
She searched frantically around the room. There must be another way out. There was a narrow window, set high on the wall. Would she even fit through it? She pushed at a cupboard shrouded in pictures, hoping to move it under the window. It was incredibly heavy, noisy.
She jumped back. The cupboard had been placed in front of a door branded with hexafoils and other markings she didn’t understand. A door to where? The cellar was underground. She pushed it open. The space inside was pitch black and stank of damp, stale air. Tentatively she reached out—felt nothing.
Another crash at the door was followed by the splintering of wood and a flood of light pouring down the steps and into the room.
With no other choice, she stepped into the space behind the door and closed it behind her, trying not to think of spiders or anything else that could be in there.
‘Callie?’ The footsteps on the stairs didn’t seem to be in any hurry.
She couldn’t feel walls around her. There seemed to be too much room. She eased one arm out, reached a half circle around her. Nothing. The cavity was large.
Then a light came on in the cellar and just enough penetrated the gaps between the door and the frame to give her an impression of a long line of brickwork and dust, a tunnel running parallel to the house. She scrambled to remember what Paisley had said. There’s an old tunnel that runs from the river beside the house right under the town to the asylum …
Did that mean this could be a way out?
The door behind her was yanked open and steely fingers locked around her arm. ‘There you are!’
She couldn’t help the scream and fought wildly as Ned held on with a bruising grip.
‘Don’t want to be going in there,’ he said patiently, though his voice had an edge from the effort of holding on. ‘Best come out now, it’s not safe.’
She’d take her chances. She twisted with renewed ferocity, got her arm free and lashed out hard. She heard more than felt the thud as her fist connected with his face, and he disappeared back through the doorway with an enraged growl. Callie moved out of reach, further into the gaping black hole, and felt around her. A few inches above her head her fingers grazed the rough scrape of brickwork. She stepped forward, arms waving, searching for a safe way. Though she wanted to run, she made herself go carefully.
A bone-aching cold seeped into her, and a musty odour that reeked of air too sour to safely breathe had her fighting back a gag that became a choked sob. She forced away the tears—she needed to see. Could she get lost down here? She told herself to stay calm, stay calm against the pounding of her blood in her ears.
A torch beam shone down the tunnel. She ran, one arm stretched to the side, skinning her fingers as she kept track of her path, the other in front of her in case she hit another wall. The side wall disappeared but by the time she’d stopped she’d hit it again. A second tunnel? Now what? Should she go back? Or keep going forward? Which way was out? She swallowed more panic, more dread as a beam of light momentarily blinded her.
‘You can’t run, Callie. You’re only going to get yourself killed.’
Forward, she thought. If she started making turns she’d be completely lost. She ran, Ned’s torch illuminating enough of the hazy tunnel for her to pick up speed. As the tunnel curved the torch-beam faded, then she wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her or if the darkness ahead might have held a touch of light. And was the air getting easier to breathe?
The torch was directly behind her again. It lit up a wall ahead just when she would have crashed into it. She stopped. A dead end.
‘No …’ Another sob broke from her throat as she realised she was trapped. She spun to face him. The torch was blinding. Ned’s features were difficult to make out from behind its glare and what she could see only looked more terrifying in the unnatural highlights.
Something brushed her face. She swiped at it desperately. A leaf. She looked up, reached up, and her fingers tangled in a metal grate, feeling damp leaves and earth. She pushed desperately at it, was showered in debris as it shook in place. The steady beam of light became erratic as Ned picked up his pace.
Tears and dirt stung her eyes and made seeing anything impossible as she frantically shoved at the grate. It twisted, one end lifting as the other dropped down to empty its contents on the ground around her. Another shake and it fell heavily, smashing against her cheek, but she barely noticed the pain as she braced her hands on either side of the opening and attempted to pull herself up. It was too high, too slippery. She began sobbing in earnest as her trembling arms would
n’t do what she needed them to. She forced herself to take one deep breath, changed her grip, tried again.
Ned was right in front of her as she jumped, propelling herself up hard, her elbows locking over the edges of the hole. Trembling from the exertion, she tried to lift herself the rest of the way. But two large hands grabbed her hips and pulled.
‘No!’ she screamed. She kicked her legs, she twisted, but he was too strong. She was going down.
There was an ‘Oof’, as her foot connected hard with Ned’s body. When his hands released their grip, she managed to get a foot on his shoulder and boost herself off it, to tumble out of the hole onto the wet earth.
Staggering to her feet, Callie took a few steps as she fought to drag enough oxygen into her lungs. Head swimming, she bent over and waited for the world to stop spinning.
There was a clinking sound, then: ‘Callie!’ Ned roared. ‘Don’t leave!’
It got her moving again. Where was she? She ploughed through some scrub and caught sight of the river, followed it. Almost immediately the ground opened up and she knew, even in the dark, where she was. Ava’s memorial.
‘Callie?’ Another deep voice had her spinning again. Though the night seemed almost like daylight after the darkness of the tunnel she could only just make out the features of the man pointing a torch and a gun in her direction.
‘Jared?’ She stumbled to a standstill.
‘Yep.’ He rushed forward. ‘What’s happened to you?’
‘Ned, he’s—’ She swung around at the sound of heavy breathing behind her.
‘She’s mine!’ Ned bellowed.
Jared dragged Callie behind him and tackled Ned. Both went down. It only took a matter of seconds for Jared to have Ned flipped over, handcuffs in place.
More lights danced down from between the heavy trees, and footsteps crashed behind her.
‘Jared?’ Indy called out sharply.
‘She’s here! She’s safe.’
‘Callie!’ Connor’s voice. He hurtled down the trail and wrenched her to him. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Where did you come from, Connor?’ Indy said.
‘Where the hell do you think?’
‘I could have shot you.’
‘Or us, I suppose,’ Tess said, appearing behind them with Logan.
Jared got to his feet. ‘He’s out cold.’
‘Are you hurt?’ Indy asked Callie. ‘Where’d you come from?’
Even as she started to say it, Jonah’s words finally made sense. ‘Under the ground.’
CHAPTER
35
Connor left Callie sleeping in his apartment and went back to the cottage to get some of her things. They’d been up too much of the night, then when they’d finally got to bed, the crack to her cheek had coloured up and she’d been restless, even with the painkillers. She needed to rest. Indy and a few other police were parked in the drive so he walked up to the house first, to check it out.
Indy spotted him coming, waved. ‘How is she?’
‘Asleep. Sore. What are you up to?’
‘Gathering evidence. But we’re wrapping up so … want to see?’
‘Hell, yes.’
‘Come with me. Just don’t touch anything.’
He moved around police packing up and got inside, followed Indy down the stairs to the cellar.
‘Holy shit.’
‘You should have seen it before,’ she told him as he stared in disbelief at the piles of photographs being put into boxes. ‘They were strung up everywhere. Here’s the tunnel entrance.’
‘Is it really a tunnel?’
‘Yep.’
‘That’s weird.’
‘It’s not the first tunnel or drain to be found under New Norfolk. Some people will tell you they’re all over the place. This one’s interesting because there was always talk of a tunnel from the Willow Court asylum to the river that was used to transport convicts and mental patients deemed unfit to be seen on the streets, and at one stage even for bringing in contraband. A few years back something was detected running under Burnett Street and they thought they’d found it but it turned out to be a large, hand-built drain.’
‘So this could be it. This goes all the way under the town?’
‘We don’t know yet. It’s just a guess due to the direction it’s pointing. Jared walked for ten minutes or so before he turned around and came back. We’ve got university people coming out to investigate. They’re quite excited about it.’
‘Can I take a look?’
‘Sure. If we go left, it’s only a couple of minutes to the river.’
Connor stepped in, his head mere inches from skimming the roof. A string of lights illuminated the way. It was freezing, it smelled damn ordinary and there was a definite creep factor. ‘I can’t even imagine,’ he said, ‘how petrified she must have been, down here in the dark, not even knowing if there was a way out while that bastard was chasing her.’
When Indy remained silent he took a good look at her face. ‘What is it?’
‘I should have been more vigilant.’
‘What? Do you know something I don’t?’
‘I’ve never been comfortable with Ned’s fixations. You know that.’
‘Indy, Ned has worked for us for twenty years—he was working for us as a teen and he’s never, and I mean never, crossed any lines. I would have had him off the place in a heartbeat if he had. If we couldn’t pick he’d go this far, how could you?’
‘Because I’m trained to. And if he was ever going to devolve, it was now. The stressor was there: the loss of his father. Facing grief along with monumental change to what is perceived as the loss of a safe and ordered world is disastrous to a personality like that. The situation had red flags all over it. And I left her out here alone with him.’
‘You didn’t leave her anywhere. This is her home, she owns it. Ned shouldn’t have even been here.’
‘She bought it?’
‘Bought Ned’s share, yeah. She and Paisley are going to turn it into a bed and breakfast.’
‘More disruption, more loss and uncertainty. No wonder he cracked.’
‘What’s going to happen to him?’
‘He’ll be remanded in custody while he goes through psychiatric assessment at Wilfred Lopes. It’s a secure mental health unit for offenders.’
‘What do you think will happen after that?’
‘He’ll end up there or in Risdon. He’s not getting away without some sort of decent sentence. That shrine he had in that house to Callie was damning; it proves he’s been stalking her, terrorising her, and she’s not the only one. Kaicey, myself, and at least five other women had also been stalked, just not to the same extent. That shows a long-term pattern of behaviour. He had folders of photographs in the big cupboard Callie moved, and on his computer. Videos too. The thing with stalking—even basic voyeurism—is that once it escalates to the next level, perpetrators never go back. Unless they’re caught, they only ever get worse.’
‘What’s that?’ he asked, pointing to an area off to the side of the tunnel housing a collection of dark shapes.
‘Ritual equipment. Some of this stuff looks a million years old but there’s some other bits and pieces over there that have been used much more recently. Don’t touch anything. We have to take it all out piece by piece for analysis.’
‘This would explain the ghosts. The chanting would have echoed up out of the tunnel.’
‘Right. Let’s get out of here. The place stinks.’ Then as they walked back towards the cottage, she said, ‘I don’t need to tell you to keep this quiet.’
‘Of course not.’
‘Okay. I’ll see you at home.’
* * *
‘I can’t believe Ned would do that!’ Paisley said from where she sat at Connor’s dining table. ‘I just can’t.’
She’d been angry, upset, teary and feeling sorry for herself, and all Callie could think of at that moment was, Poor Paisley. Something else she had to deal with. ‘I
t happened. I’m sorry. But—’
‘You’re sorry?’ Paisley laughed bitterly. ‘Why? I told you he was harmless. I told you not to worry. I never thought—could never have imagined this. I know I haven’t had much to do with him for a long time but Ned was always … Ned. I need to see him. I need to know why. Yell at him—God, I want to kill him.’
‘Indy called a couple of hours ago to tell me he’s in remand. He went in front of the magistrate around lunchtime and was denied bail pending a psychiatric assessment. I don’t know the procedure for seeing him. Indy could tell you.’
‘I’ll talk to her. Damn, what now?’ Paisley pulled her phone from her bag, sent Callie a look that had Callie instantly on edge.
‘Ned? Why are you calling? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Why would you do that?’ She pulled a face that said she wasn’t happy with his answer. ‘You idiot! Do you really think you knew better? I’m sorry. I can’t help you. There’s nothing I can do.’ Then: ‘Say hi to Dad for me.’
‘What happened?’
‘The mentally ill defence was rejected. Because of the evidence against him, his lawyer decided he should change his plea to guilty, be remorseful and appeal for leniency or something. He’s going back to court tomorrow for sentencing.’
‘I don’t have to do anything?’ Callie asked.
‘Doesn’t sound like it.’
‘Why did you make the comment about your dad?’
‘He reckons he won’t last in prison. Said we’ll be spreading his ashes next. What am I supposed to do? Even if I could somehow snap my fingers and get him out, would I? He’s dangerous. He’s also my brother. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s that I care more about what he did to you and what he could do to someone else. And I’m still so angry about it, it’s not in me to be sympathetic. Not now. Maybe not ever.’
The door opened and Connor came through, followed by Indy and Jared. He crossed the room and gently lifted Callie’s head, examined her face and placed a kiss on her lips.
‘Have you been taking the painkillers?’
‘Yep. Hi,’ she said to Indy and Jared. ‘Are you hungry? Do you want me to get you anything?’