Authors: MA Comley
“I promise I’ll come back tomorrow with the cash.”
The man sat back in his chair and bounced. “Do you have any idea the amount of times I hear that line?”
“In my case, it happens to be the truth. I assure you this has never happened to me before. I’m embarrassed and ashamed about the situation, which could be rectified easily if you’ll only take my word—”
He halted her words with an upraised hand. “I’ve heard every excuse known to man. We have a policy here that if a customer intentionally eats and tries to leave without paying their bill that they should work off that bill.”
“I don’t understand. I have a job.”
The man laughed sarcastically. “It won’t interfere with your job, madam. I’ll get one of the kitchen porters to show you what your role will entail this evening.” He stood up and motioned for her to follow him through to the kitchen.
Sweat poured off the brows of the people dashing about in the noisy environment. A porter appeared with an apron. He slipped it over her head and ordered her to go with him.
She was in a daze as everything was happening. The work didn’t bother her, but she knew Morris would be livid because she hadn’t followed him and his date out of the restaurant. Had he gone ahead and murdered his date? Or had he delayed the inevitable until she could be there to witness the deed?
As she cleared and stacked the dirty plates, Bella managed to sneak a glance around the hectic kitchen once in a while. She was trying to make out where the back door to the kitchen was located. She had to find it, to get out there and warn Morris that things had gone wrong. Over half an hour had passed since he’d departed with his date. Had he waited in the car park for her? Questions, questions—her mind raced with them.
She jumped when a man bellowed in her ear, “Get on with it, woman. No slacking.” Two plates crashed to the ground, and the whole kitchen turned to look at her. Shame filled her and made her hands shake even more. She juggled more plates as they slipped from her grasp. All she wanted to do was run.
“Danny, give her a hand. She’s obviously never washed dishes before in her life.”
The kitchen erupted as a cocky teenager pushed her aside and proceeded to treat her like a child, instructing her how to clear the plates and wash them without breaking them. Mortified, she let her head drop. She’d never been so humiliated in her life. She could kill Morris for getting her into this mess. He’d dropped her into such a chaotic situation and a distressing position. She hated being laughed at by strangers.
The slop bucket filled quickly, then needed emptying. Danny told her to help him shift it. They struggled to carry the bucket through the prep area. Danny kicked the back door, and it flew open. Bella slithered through the doorway, carrying the bucket with Danny. She nervously browsed around for any sign of Morris and was relieved to find the dark alleyway empty. Danny tripped over something and yelled as he hit the floor. The bucket’s contents spilled down Bella’s leg, and Danny’s yell became a full-scale scream. Bella’s eyes were glued to the woman’s dead body lying face-down on the concrete. She heard Danny scramble to his feet and run inside the kitchen. Shouts, then the sound of approaching scurrying feet brought Bella out of her stupor. She felt someone grip her shoulders and turn her, then push her through the back door and say, “Quick, she’s in shock. Has anyone called the police or the ambulance yet?”
The realisation that the police could turn up freaked her out more than seeing the woman’s dead body. She tore off the apron she’d been forced to wear, and in the mayhem of the kitchen, she sat in the corner, hoping no one would notice her. The officers arrived and talked to everyone, including her. She acted as though she were still in shock. Well, she was, sort of. After she’d given him her address, the concerned officer asked if she wanted to go to hospital, but she shook her head. “I just want to go home.”
“You’re obviously too upset to give a statement now. We’ll be in touch in a few days. Do you need a lift?” the officer asked.
“No. I’ll be fine, thank you.”
Bella left the restaurant and mayhem behind her. Glancing over her shoulder the whole time, she ran to the nearest main road and hailed a taxi. She’d checked her purse, and whilst she didn’t have enough money to pay for her bill at the restaurant, she found the fiver she tucked away in a pocket of her bag for emergencies. Her only dilemma was whether she returned to Morris’s flat or went back to her own dingy digs. Curiosity made her give the driver Morris’s address.
She hesitantly rang the doorbell, and instantly, the door was yanked open. A look of surprise settled on Morris’s face. He pulled her into the apartment and wrapped his arms around her. She tried to explain what had happened, but he silenced her with a kiss, then another. Before long, he had removed all of her clothes and carried her into the bedroom. Their lovemaking consisted of frantic jerky movements and painful, thrusting intercourse. Bella wanted to throw him off her because she felt as if he were punishing her in some way. As he built to his climax, he dug his fingers into her flesh. She wanted to cry out, to plead with him to stop hurting her, but she knew exactly what his reaction would be. So she suffered in silence, her eyes clenched tightly to help combat the excruciating pain.
He rolled off her once he’d reached his blessed release. Frozen in fear, Bella lay rigid until she heard his breathing change. With Morris asleep, she crept into the bathroom. She ran the shower and rid herself of the animal scent he’d covered her in. She peeked around the bathroom door and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him still fast asleep. She crawled across the bedroom to gather her clothes and then made her way into the lounge. At the doorway, she heard the sheets rustle behind her and the bed move. The noise stopped her dead in her tracks. Suddenly, he was on her back, yanking her hair from the roots.
“Trying to get away from me, bitch?”
“No. Please, I need to go home.”
“Why? I haven’t finished with you yet. I want to know why you deserted me back at the restaurant.”
Unable to support his dead weight on her back, her legs gave way. Lying on the floor, she felt the breath being crushed out of her as he shifted his weight to her upper back and chest area. She tried to tell him what had gone wrong, but he wouldn’t listen to her excuses. Instead, he yanked her head back and reached for something behind him. She felt the garment wrap around her neck, and it grew tighter by the second. She feared her life was in mortal danger as he twisted the ends of the cloth to form a kind of tourniquet. Then everything went black.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
T
he ringing telephone brought Lorne out of her daze. “Hello?”
“Lorne, how are you? More to the point, how is Tony?”
She smiled when she recognised Carol’s voice. “Hello, love. Well, the doctor wasn’t happy with the amount of infection in his leg, told him off for delaying the inevitable. He’s been ordered to stay in hospital for a week. They’ll take care of him there. How are things with you?”
“So so…Look I need to see you. Can I come over?”
“Have you had one of your visions?”
“I’ve had some confusing images that I’d like to run by you.”
“Then come on over. Stop for lunch if you like?”
“I’ll see you in an hour or so. I’ll drop by the baker’s and pick up a cream cake. Will Charlie be there?”
“She will. That’s kind of you, Carol. We’ll see you soon.”
Lorne got to work, making a plateful of sandwiches. Charlie entered the back door a few minutes later.
“I’m starving. What’s for lunch?” Charlie pinched a slice of cucumber and quickly ran to the other side of the room before Lorne could slap her hand away.
“Sandwiches. I haven’t had time to make anything else, sorry. Carol’s dropping by to join us. She’s bringing cream cakes with her.”
“Yum. I better jump in the shower then. One of the dogs had the runs this morning.”
“Just what I want to hear when I’m preparing lunch. Thanks for that. Which dog?”
“One of the boarders, the chocolate Labrador. I know. ‘Cut him back on his food for the day.’” Charlie ran out of the room and thundered up the stairs to the bathroom.
Cheeky madam!
After finishing the sandwiches, Lorne rang the hospital to check on Tony. The nurse said that he’d had a comfortable night and that he was looking forward to her visit that evening. Lorne made a mental note to stop off at the newsagents to pick up a car magazine to help stave off the boredom. She knew he would be going out of his mind with nothing to keep him occupied.
The crunching gravel outside indicated that Carol had at last arrived. Eager to hear what Carol had to say, Lorne went out to greet her and was surprised to see the woman struggling out of her car with an injured arm.
“What on earth happened to you?”
“Silly me. I slipped on a wet floor in the kitchen and damaged my wrist.”
“’Damaged’ as in broke it? Here, let me get that.” Lorne reached across the seat to retrieve the box of cakes.”
“No. I’ve just sprained it. Pretty badly, though. Lucky the car is an automatic, eh?”
They both laughed as they walked through the back door into the kitchen.
“You should have told me. I am capable of coming over to see you, you know.”
“I know, love, but you’ve got enough on your plate at the moment. Anyway, I needed to get out. I’m going stir-crazy at home.”
Charlie came in and pecked Carol on the cheek. “Ouch, that looks painful. What cake did you get me?”
“Charlie! Don’t be so rude.”
Carol waved away Lorne’s reprimand. “Leave the child alone. I know I was always thinking of my stomach when I was her age.” She looked down at her protruding stomach and grinned. “I still do, actually. I bought you a coffee éclair, dear.”
“Cool. I haven’t had one of those since…oh yeah, since the last time you visited.”
They all laughed again.
“Oops, sorry to be so predictable.” Carol blushed.
Charlie stepped forward and hugged her. “I’m only teasing. With Tony not here, I have to find another target to wind up.”
Carol looked over at Lorne. “Tony is going to be fine. There’s no need to worry on that front.”
“That’s a relief. Obviously, I’ve been out of my mind with worry, especially after what happened with Dad.”
“I know. Honestly, the hospital will sort him out in the next few days and return him to you as good as new.”
Charlie sniggered. “You make him sound like a broken-down car. ‘Gentlemen, we have the technology to rebuild this man.’ Isn’t that what they used to say in that programme Tony’s always on about?
The Six Million Dollar Man
or something weird like that?”
Carol gasped. “Gosh, I used to watch that as a child. How on earth would any of you know about it?”
“The Internet, I guess. Tony was doing some research into prosthetics one day and stumbled across a company with that quote, I seem to remember. I think he had a vision of being recreated to have superhuman powers.”
“Bless him. Well, that certainly isn’t about to happen any day soon,” Carol informed them.
They all helped to get the rest of the lunch ready, then after it was over, Charlie left the kitchen to put Rusty through his daily agility practice.
Carol smiled at Lorne. “His new role is going to be far better suited to him.”
“Rusty, you mean?”
“Yes. It’s going to break Charlie’s heart in the short term, but the man who made the enquiry about the dog will invite her, and you, down to the training centre to see how he’s settled down. Rusty and the other two dogs will be awarded medals in the near future. You mark my words.”
“Medals? As in for bravery?”
“Of one sort, yes. Correct me if I’m wrong, but there are different roles these dogs can play, aren’t there?”
Lorne turned her half-full mug of coffee on the table. “Jeff said that Rusty and the others might become drugs dogs, working with the police, or be sent out to join the bomb disposal unit in war zones such as Afghanistan.”
“I see him doing the former option myself. I’d hate the thought of Rusty going abroad. I know the dogs do an invaluable job out there, but aren’t they being targeted more by the rebels? I think that’s what I heard anyway.”
“I hope you’re right. Hey, you mentioned that you’d had a vision about the case I’m working on. Care to give me a clue?”
“It’s not one hundred per cent clear, kind of muddled in places. However, I wanted to make you aware of the situation, what you could be dealing with.”
“Sounds intriguing. Go on.”
“At the moment, I can’t tell if there have been two or three victims. It’s kind of confusing me a little.”
Lorne waited for Carol to reveal her vision fully before she offered up any information. Both of them liked to work that way. It meant, what Carol was telling her couldn’t be influenced by Lorne denying or agreeing with any of Carol’s revelations.
Carol continued relaying the information her vision had revealed. “Of the two or three victims, the only thing I’m totally sure about is that one is a female, and one is a male. If that’s right, then that is what has been totally bamboozling me. Isn’t it unusual to have victims of different genders, especially if we’re talking about a serial killer?”
Lorne shrugged. “It depends. Not unheard of, by any means. Anything else?”
Carol closed her eyes and began rocking back and forth in her chair. “A river. A restaurant. A high-rise building. A dingy flat. An office.” Carol paused, and the intensity of her rocking increased significantly. “Two people. A man and a woman. Why am I getting the names Hindley and Brady?”
“I’m not sure.” Lorne thought over Carol’s suggestion for a second or two. “My God, Myra Hindley and Ian Brady?” She shook her head vehemently. “No. They were notorious child killers back in the sixties. Nothing about this case points to any similarities to them, nothing.”
“I’m just telling you what I’m seeing. We’ll see if it makes any sense at the end of your investigation.”
Lorne rushed into the lounge to fetch her pen and paper. She should have done so right at the beginning, before Carol started talking. Returning to the kitchen, she jotted down anything significant Carol had said. At the very top of the list, she wrote Hindley and Brady and underlined it three times.