Authors: Catherine Winchester
On her way to the Western General she stopped at a Scotmid and picked some Whiskers up for the cat and a sandwich for her lunch. By the time she reached the hospital it was just after noon. The receptionist directed her to the morgue and Frankie spoke with the pathologist and his receptionist.
Neither one recognised the sketch she showed them. She asked them to take her through what they found that morning again and although they’d both been through it before, they did so again.
The lock on the fire exit had been broken but the alarm wasn’t set off, as it should have been. The room had looked almost normal, except for the open door on the storage fridge. That was all they could tell her. Frankie asked which drawer had been left open and examined it, telling them to go back to work.
When she was sure they weren’t watching, she placed her hand on the handle and opened her mind. Bradley had been excited and left a strong impression behind but his thoughts were disjointed. He was afraid of getting caught, wanted to get this over with, get back home. She caught a glimpse of home in his mind, it looked like an abandoned stone building, but Edinburgh was full of those and she didn’t see enough to recognise either it or an area. He’d brought clothes with him for the corpse to wear.
Frankie swallowed down the bile she felt rising and forced herself to continue. He heard footsteps going up and down the hallway but no one came in. He hated the smell in here. Even though it wasn’t embalmed, he thought this body would last him until he was done as long as no one shot it up this time. He wiped any prints off the drawer and wondered if he’d left any incriminating evidence on the last body.
That was everything relevant she could get off the handle. She looked around a little more so they wouldn’t be suspicious, then left as quickly as possible.
Will checked his email to find an update from DS Harris, the officer leading the body snatching enquiry to say that the CCTV footage from the hospital cameras had been viewed but so far there was no sign of anyone transporting a body out.
Well there wouldn’t be, he thought; they were looking for a lifeless body, not a walking one.
It was relatively easy to believe last night, he’d been tired, drunk and Frankie’s parlour trick was impressive. Now though, under the florescent lights, surrounded by facts, forensic science and triplicate forms, magic, zombies, demons and psychics were much harder to believe in. There might be something to Frankie’s… quirk, but demons? Was it all just superstitious nonsense?
He shook his head at the thought and opened the forensics file. The copies of the fingerprints found at the crime scenes were on top, where he had put them after looking at them this morning.
All he had to do was ask Harris to fingerprint the corpse and he’d have his proof; the dead man’s prints would either match those at his crime scenes, as Frankie said, or they wouldn’t.
But did he
really
want everyone knowing that a dead man had killed these women? They wouldn’t believe it anyway, he decided, so what was the point? Sure, the two cases would be combined but he already had ample officers on his case, one more wouldn’t make any difference. And how big a fool would he look if the prints didn’t match?
No, he decided, for now he’d keep the information to himself.
Frankie let herself into the house and reset the alarm. “Hey, kitty, I brought you some proper cat food,” she called out. It felt so nice to have something to greet; she thought she’d look into getting her own cat when this case was over.
Assuming she was still alive. Also assuming that they managed to prevent the demon being unleashed. And that the world hadn't ended. Yes, she decided,
then
she was definitely getting a cat.
The cat didn’t come to greet her so she called it a few times but it still didn’t come. Its food remained untouched so she assumed it had gone home.
Maybe a cat was too fickle a pet, she mused.
She headed into the living room and logged onto her computer. All the files had been updated but she didn’t find anything she could use to help her find Bradley James.
She decided to call Clara and see if any witchy intervention could help. Couldn’t witches scry to find people?
She found the phone number in the information Will had given her and called.
She explained the situation and asked if there was any way witchcraft could help trace him.
Clara was silent for a few moments. “We can, but the only way I know of would involve having something belonging to the person you’re looking for.”
“
Would something he touched be good enough?” She’d break into the hospital and steal that door in the mortuary herself if she had to.
“
Only if he’s the only one to touch it recently. It has to have his… essence, and his essence has to be stronger than anyone else’s on it, otherwise you get multiple readings and nothing helpful.”
“
If I did find something, would you perform the spell for us?”
Clara hesitated for a moment. “You sound desperate,” she finally stated.
“
I am,” Frankie admitted. “This is as bad as it gets and I have to stop him before…”
“
All hell breaks loose?” Clara guessed.
“
Literally.”
Clara was silent a few moments longer. “If you can find something, I can perform the spell.”
“
Thank you.”
After she’d hung up Frankie chewed her lip for a moment then decided to change into her workout clothes. Tai Chi helped her to relax and focus her mind.
Five minutes later she had changed, tied her hair back and pushed the coffee table to the side of the room. She practised for half an hour, trying to focus only on the movement. Then she allowed her thoughts to wander but one thought occurred to her and stuck.
Why a zombie? The zombie she’d met didn’t look capable of executing a precise plan without being seen. He’d been feral, so how had he managed to break in, kill three women and paint those symbols?
She realised her knowledge of zombies was sadly lacking. Perhaps if she understood more she’d find answers.
She stopped exercising and as she went to pull the coffee table back into the middle of the room she saw the cat tucked between the sofa and the wall. It was so dark in there she almost didn’t notice the black cat.
“
There you are,” she exclaimed. The cat didn’t move. “Kitty? Kitty!” she called but the cat remained motionless.
She reached into the gap and pulled the cat out with both hands. It looked groggy and blinked up at her with bright green eyes. Frankie heaved a sigh of relief.
“
You scared me!” she admonished the creature. “I thought you were dead and I’d see wanted posters for you everywhere and have to call and admit I’d killed you!” Her words came out in a relieved rush.
The cat just blinked a few more times, licked her hand with its rough tongue then got to its feet and stretched.
Frankie headed to the kitchen, drank a glass of water, then replaced the untouched tuna with the Whiskas she’d bought.
Back in the living room Frankie turned the lights on as night fell and began surfing the MI5 files hoping to find an expert who could help her. PaST kept details of a number of experts, both those who had helped them before and those who worked in the relevant field and might help them in the future.
There were two practitioners of magic and four academics who listed zombie rituals as a field of interest. Three lived in London, one in Norfolk, one in Manchester and one in Livingston.
Derrick Malcolm was a writer specialising in demonic texts and rituals. He had also written books on voodoo practices, ESP and the properties of spell ingredients.
Frankie called Will as she printed Dr Malcolm’s details off. The cat wandered across the desk and sniffed the printer, sitting at the edge of the desk and watching her. She absently scratched behind his ears as she filled Will in on her day’s activities.
“
Do you want me to come with you to see this writer?” Will asked.
“
No, I’ll be fine, I’ll let you know what I find.” She checked her watch. “I should be back in three hours, maximum. When are you getting off work?”
Will sighed. “I have a million and one reports to sign off on. Maybe midnight?” He didn’t sound sure.
“
Well stop by if you want to; we can compare notes.”
“
Not tonight, Frankie.” He sounded a little angry but mostly just tired.
Frankie hung up and went to change out of her workout clothes. As she went up stairs she heard the sound of the cat flap. Her new little friend was going back to his family for the night.
It took her about three quarters of an hour to get to Livingston and she was shocked to see a large black Hummer parked outside. She dismissed the thought immediately; the chances of the vampire Josh deciding to come here at the exact same time were minimal, it had to be a coincidence.
It wasn’t.
Chapter Twelve
Derrick Malcolm looked to be in his late 50’s. He was of medium height and build and distinctly average. His only distinguishing feature was a mole on his cheek.
“
Come in, I’ve been expecting you,” he told her.
“
You have?”
He turned back at the surprise, and perhaps a little panic in her voice. “Yes, your friend explained the situation and said to expect you.”
“
Oh.”
He showed her into his study while he went to make her a coffee. She had refused his offer three times but accepted on the fourth since he seemed determined.
She stood just inside the door and crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the vampire. “Look, I know why you’re here and I don’t care what you say, I am not stopping my investigation.”
Josh smiled. “Okay.”
“
I mean it. I don’t care what you or Alex do.”
“
Alex has shut you out of this investigation,” it was more of a statement than a question. “And you assume that since we are friends, I will agree with him, yes?”
“
You don’t?”
Josh sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. A lock of his black hair fell over his eyes. “How old are you?” he asked.
“
What does that matter?”
Josh looked her over. “You’re in your thirties, right?”
Frankie nodded, much as she might dislike that fact, it was true.
“
And are you an intelligent woman, Frankie?”
That question threw her. In fact the whole conversation wasn’t what she’d been expecting. “What?”
“
Are you of average or above average intelligence?”
“
Yes!”
“
And all your faculties are intact, mentally and physically?”
“
Yes.”
“
No learning disabilities?”
“
No.”
“
A history of depression or mental illness?”
“
No.”
“
Then why would I try and stop you?”
“
Because it’s dangerous and I’m just a feeble human.”
Josh relaxed back into his seat, smiling. “True, but you are a grown, intelligent woman. You are aware of the risks and dangers and choose to proceed anyway. I fail to see how it's my place to stop you.”
“
It isn’t,” she agreed. She wondered if that was some reverse psychology trick or if he really meant what he said. Then she realised it didn’t matter because trick or not, she wasn’t going to stop. She sat on the spare chair, opposite Dr Malcolm’s desk. She felt slightly better about Josh now. Every sense she had told her he was dangerous, but at least he didn’t try to patronise her.
“
Thank you,” it wasn’t the most gracious thank you ever offered but it was the best she could manage.
“
For what?”
“
Not treating me like an idiot who can’t make her own decisions.”
Josh laughed. “Oh, Frankie, you are an idiot. It simply isn’t my place to stop you.”
Scary vampire or not, Frankie was just about to tear him a new one when Derrick Malcolm returned with two mugs of coffee. The man had excellent timing. He handed Frankie her mug then took a seat behind the desk and turned to Josh.
“
Now then, you had some questions for me?” he asked.
“
Yes. I’ll be brief. Is there any way to halt a demon summoning ceremony?” Josh asked.
Derrick considered the question for a moment. “The procedure has already started?” Josh nodded. When the writer didn’t speak again for a while Josh continued. “Is there a spell or prayer we could perform ourselves to block the summoning?”
Derrick shook his head. “Not that I’ve ever heard. Your only option is to stop the one calling the demon. Physically stopping him from completing the rituals.”
“
Couldn’t he or someone else just finish it off?” Frankie asked.
Derrick shook his head. “No. All the summoning rituals must adhere to a strict timeline. There’s usually a few hours leeway but the sacrifices must be completed at set intervals. If one sacrifice is missed then the summoner must begin again from scratch.”
“
The problem is we don’t seem to be able to locate him,” Josh explained.