Authors: Helen Phifer
‘There are bedrooms, bathrooms and storage cupboards in most rooms. Help yourselves.’
She leant back against the hand-carved oak staircase and folded her arms across her chest, as if not wanting to hamper their search in any way.
They took a room each and began searching in wardrobes, cupboards and under beds until they finally met on the landing, empty-handed. Annie had opened the last door, which had been Joe’s room, and smiled at the perfect little boy’s room. It reminded her of the schoolroom in the haunted mansion that had started all of this and her first encounter with a ghost.
She pushed the door shut behind her and walked across to the small four-poster bed with a one-eyed teddy on it. Breathing in this time, she picked up the teddy, letting the emotions run from the stuffed bear into her fingertips. She closed her eyes and felt an overwhelming rush of love for the mischievous boy whom it had once belonged to.
She could see him running around and hiding from his even younger sister who was sitting at the kitchen table watching the cook while trying to count. He had run up the stairs and then back down again, stopping outside the cellar door. This time it only had one bolt across, which he could only just reach if he stood on his tiptoes. He worked the bolt back and opened the door, pulling it to behind him. He wasn’t afraid of the dark like most kids and he’d run down the steps, crouching at the bottom and waiting for Martha to find him. He would have gone further in but he knew his sister was a scaredy-cat and didn’t like the cellar.
A noise from the far corner shifted his attention from the slither of light that shone through the crack in the door. He turned to see where it was coming from. It sounded like something with sharp claws was skittering along the floor. He couldn’t locate which direction it was coming from, and then he heard Martha shouting at him and turned back to face the door, the noise behind him forgotten. He decided to go up and see her. But before he could, something came out of the dark and grabbed him.
Annie couldn’t see what it was because of the blackness, but it looked the size of a tall man. Terrified and too scared to carry on because she didn’t want to see what terrible thing had happened to poor little Joe, she dropped the bear onto the bed and crossed herself. Feeling as if she’d just intruded into another person’s nightmare, she turned and left the room to join the others on the landing. She shivered. The thing was horrible and, whatever it was, it lived in the dark and never came into the light. Annie didn’t want to go back down into the cellar because she knew that the first time she had been lucky and this time her luck might run out.
Dawn, Cathy, Sam and Tracy were waiting on the landing for her; she walked out and shrugged her shoulders, hoping her voice wouldn’t crack and that she sounded braver than she felt. ‘I guess we need to check the rooms downstairs and then the cellar. What about the grounds? Are there any sheds, garages, boathouses?’
‘All three but I’ve checked them, except for the boathouse because no one can get the rusted lock open on the door. I’ve definitely been out into the garage and outhouses, though.’
Dawn led the way downstairs with Annie lagging behind; she really didn’t want to go into the cellar. She had no idea what it was that lurked down there but the thought of being dragged off and never seen again didn’t appeal to her in the least. Not to mention what it actually did with the people who were never seen again. Where was little Joe Beckett now? He would be almost a hundred. And what about Seamus? There was a big difference between a nine-year-old kid and a grown man. Whatever it was must be strong enough to drag them both off. She pictured the claws from her vision and, realising somewhere deep down that they were used for killing its prey, she shuddered.
Stu could hear the dog whining downstairs to go out and he groaned. He hated the horrible little thing with a passion but Debs loved it to bits. He got out of bed, relieved he wasn’t at work until two. It would give him the chance to unpack some more of the boxes of his stuff that had been shoved into the spare room three days ago when they’d moved in. He had never really wanted to live over on Walney Island but Debs loved it. She loved the beaches and being surrounded by open fields full of horses, cows and sheep. Stu loved Debs, so when she’d found the house he’d agreed they could go and take a look at it. She’d fallen in love with the whitewashed cottage with a huge back garden.
He padded down barefoot into the kitchen and stepped in a puddle of dog piss. ‘Argh, you dirty little bastard.’ The dog was still whining by the back door as Stu hopped over to open it and let it out. Lifting the washing-up bowl out of the sink he lifted his leg and ran his foot under the hot water tap. As he was balancing on one leg he saw the note taped to the fridge and leant over to tug it off.
Happy that his foot was now clean he blotted it dry with kitchen towels and then unfolded the note from his wife, asking him to walk the dog because she’d run out of time. He swore under his breath. He didn’t mind walking; it was the dog he didn’t like. It came back inside the house and started whining again, so Stu went upstairs to get dressed and take it out, planning, when he came back, to make the biggest bacon and egg sandwich this side of Walney and find his games console and connect it to the telly. He would sit playing on it until it was time for him to go to work – his revenge on Debs for making him take the dog out.
The dog slipped its collar and bounded off across the grass verge to the slightly open gate. Squeezing through the gap it ran off towards the ramshackle barn. Stu cursed, shouting, ‘Come on, Sasha. Come here, girl.’
The dog, totally oblivious, continued towards the barn. It was on a mission. It began scratching at the door and whining. Stu called it, not really wanting to go into the field in case there was some angry bull hiding behind a hedge – or a horse. He didn’t like either of them and they were both as bad as each other in his opinion. He leant against the gate and hollered, ‘Sasha.’
The dog didn’t even flinch. Stu stood on the metal gate and looked around. He couldn’t see any big four-legged animals so he squeezed through the gap and began to stride towards the dog, which was going to get its arse kicked when he got hold of it. As he got nearer to the barn he got a whiff of something dead and he felt his stomach turn. He knew that smell. He’d dealt with enough dead bodies at work to recognise the stench of a decomposing body.
Dread filling him, he looked around. The grass was too long. If there was something dead it was hard to see, but the dog would have run to it and rolled in it. She’d rolled in the carcass of a dead whale that had washed up on the beach at Roanhead last week, stinking their old house out for days. Instead she was going mad scratching at the door to the barn. As he got closer he inhaled and almost gagged. The stench was horrific. He took out his phone and rang Will, who he knew was at work.
‘It’s me. I’m in an overgrown field on Walney and the bloody dog’s going mental.’
‘Morning, Stu, what would you like me to do? Send out a response officer to taser the dog?’
‘Don’t be stupid. I’m not phoning because I can’t control my dog, although that’s not a bad idea.’
‘Well, that’s a relief then; I’m glad to hear it. So why are you phoning?’
‘There’s a knackered old barn and the stench coming from it is gut-wrenching. I think I might have inadvertently stumbled across Beth O’Connor’s body.’
‘Really? Have you opened the door to have a look? Good effort, Stu.’
‘No, because the dog will go inside and then I’ll have to go in and trample all over everything to drag it out. I’ll wait for you to get here and then we can put the dog in the back of your car. I haven’t got my car with me. It might only be a dead animal but it smells worse than that, if you know what I mean.’
Will knew what he meant; the smell of rotting flesh was so pungent that it clung to your clothes like the world’s worst aftershave, lingering for days. He had sent the two detectives who were on duty out to go and view CCTV so he went down to the parade room to see if there was anyone he could grab to go with him, but that was empty. Kav walked in with a mug of coffee and nodded.
‘Can you come with me, Kav? I need you.’
‘Steady on, Will, have you not got a lovely wife now to sort you out?’
‘I need your professional help. Stu thinks he’s found a body in a barn in the middle of a field on Walney. It might be Beth O’Connor’s.’
Kav put the drink down and then grabbed a set of keys off the whiteboard.
‘After you, William. One of these days you will want me for something other than a dead body.’
Kav drove with the blue lights on, to get through the traffic on the bridge. Will was on the phone to Stu, getting directions from him that he relayed to Kav. Before long they pulled up at the field where Stu was standing waving his arms at them. There was a poodle tied up to the metal gate. Kav looked at the dog then looked at Stu.
‘Nice dog, Stuart – matches the image.’
‘Piss off. It’s Debs’. I hate it.’
Will sniggered as he walked to the boot of the car and lifted the trunk to pass some paper suits around. He held one out to Stu, who shook his head.
‘I’m not on duty, so you two can knock yourselves out. I’ll guard the gate and not let anyone in. It might not even be a body. It could be a dead cow, but whatever it is it bloody stinks.’
Will and Kav got suited and booted and walked across the field, the smell making both men’s eyes water.
‘That’s bad.’
‘Yes, it is.’
Will approached the wooden door. Reaching out his gloved hand he gently pushed it, expecting it to be locked, but it opened. The smell was so pungent that Kav – who was a veteran police officer of nearly thirty years and had seen everything there was to see – gagged. Will switched on the torch that he’d been carrying and stepped inside, lifting one arm over his nose and using the other to shine the torch around. Kav stepped in behind him and whistled.
‘Jesus Christ almighty.’
There were two headless bodies slumped on the floor, surrounded by pools of dried blood and covered in swarms of bluebottles and maggots. Will shone his torch around to make sure there were no more then shone it back on the bodies. One of them was bloated and black. It had been eaten away by every insect possible and it looked as if the whole body was moving. The other looked a lot fresher, and although it was covered with flies and maggots it still had white flesh attached to it. It suddenly hit Will, who turned to Kav then pointed to the door; both of them retreated to the outside where they took in huge gulps of air.
‘Did you see that? What a state. At least we know where the rest of Beth is.’
‘Yes, I did, but Kav, there were two bodies – both with no heads. So who does the other one belong to?’
‘Aw bloody hell, I was so sickened by the sight of them I didn’t even think about it. Have we got any high-risk mispers?’
‘Not that I’m aware of – no one has been reported missing in the last forty-eight hours, at least not from around here. We need to go back and check the database and we need to find her head.’
‘Will, my friend, where do you think the head might be? The last one turned up miles away when Annie was on duty. I’m sorry to say this but there’s only one reason I can think of that someone would want to leave severed heads for our delightful Annie. I’m almost too afraid to say it reminds me of the not-so-delightful Henry Smith. No one knows where he is, but if you ask me I think he’s up to his old tricks again. I knew the bastard wouldn’t be able to stop. It’s all one big game for him, and we now have to prove that it’s him all over again.’
The panic on Will’s face said it all and he whipped out his phone to ring Annie, who answered straight away.
‘Where are you? Are you on your own?’
‘No, I’m at Beckett House with the inspector and two PCSOs. Why?’
‘Just checking. Stu stumbled across two headless bodies in a barn on Walney while out walking the dog. I need you to be extra careful and vigilant because I have a terrible feeling the head might be on its way up to you.’
‘Oh God, I hope not. Will, I’ve been thinking about this on and off all day – where do you think Henry Smith is? Honestly. Because I don’t believe he’s shacked up somewhere and keeping his head down. I’m worried that this has his signature written all over it. We both know that he was obsessed with me and wanted me dead, only I stopped him in his tracks. Do you think he’s over that now, that he has forgiven me and isn’t interested? I don’t. As much as I want to believe this is something else that has nothing to do with me, I can’t.’
‘I think you might be right, but I can’t start a widespread panic in case it isn’t. You need to be so very careful; I don’t want you going to any calls on your own. When you leave the station make sure there’s no one hanging around and make sure you’re not followed home. Do you want me to come up there and pick you up?’
‘No, you can’t do that now. You need to process the scene and I can’t think of anyone better than you for the job. What are we going to do? Because if it is him, he must know where I work. Otherwise why would he leave a head in Bowness and the body in Barrow? In fact he must know an awful lot more about us than we do about him because that’s what he’s good at. Watching and waiting, biding his time. He’s playing with us both. He’s like a cat taunting a mouse. I can feel it.’
Will walked away from the others and lowered his voice. ‘We might be jumping to conclusions and I hope we are, but it’s too much of a coincidence. He wanted you dead. Instead you almost killed him and lived another day. What did he get for his efforts? Third-degree burns and locked up in a secure mental hospital until he managed to escape. At least you have a different car and your hair’s much longer than it was when he first…’
He didn’t finish the sentence; Annie finished it for him.
‘Than when he first began to stalk me, you mean. Please, God, I don’t want any more blood on my hands. I have a hard enough time sleeping at night without dreaming about Jenna White or Emma Tyson.’