Читать книгу The Ghost House - Helen Phifer - Страница 20

He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. He kept replaying it over and over in his head. Had he really taken her to the big house and slit her throat? It felt as if it was all a dream and he was finding it hard to distinguish between his fantasy life and his real one. How had he turned into a stone cold killer?

He rooted around in the bottom of his wardrobe until he found his backpack. Placing it on top of the bed he unzipped it, his hands slick with sweat he fumbled to get it open. There, in the bottom of the bag, was the scarf his mother had given him last Christmas, which added to the ten others he had in his wardrobe. He took it out and rolled it across the bed until the knife appeared and he inhaled sharply. The long thin blade was covered in flecks of dark brown, dried blood.

It was a very old knife and he knew that by the worn, cracked wooden handle. It was hard to imagine this knife ever being used for anything other than to cut and slice pure white skin with such delicacy. He poked around in the small zip pocket at the front of the bag and felt the gold rope chain between his fingers. He pulled it out and held it up to the light. He had tugged it from Jenna’s neck just before he sliced her throat open: his little piece of her.

He retrieved the tin box from the shelf and took out the photographs. They were mainly pictures of the servants but there was one photograph of Lord and Lady Heaton and their son Edward. It was this one that fascinated him so much; he was drawn towards Edward and had spent hours staring at him. He looked so aloof; there was quite a distance between him and his parents. There was something so compelling about him that he had begun to haunt his dreams.

That first time he had looked at the photographs he had recognised the huge house behind them and he knew he had to find out more about this man. He had spent a very enjoyable afternoon in the library going through the archives, researching the family, and all the time he had felt as if there was some bond between him and Edward, a bond that was growing stronger.

He knew that he had to find a way to open one of the doors to the house and go inside so he had gone there one wet, miserable morning when he knew there wouldn’t be so many dog walkers around. He walked the perimeter of the building trying every door and had felt like crying when they were all locked up tight. He then began to wonder if the owners had ever left a spare key like his mother did: she left hers under a plant pot. He began to check the area, any plant pots and planters had long gone but around the back, near to a small door, was an overgrown rockery. He had spent the next ten minutes sweating and lifting up stones and rocks and had gasped when he saw a rusty piece of metal almost buried under one of them, the very tip sticking out. He brushed away the woodlice, dug his fingers into the moist soil and pulled out a rusted old key. He didn’t dare breathe in case it was too good to be true.

Wiping the key along his trouser leg he walked over to the door and put it into the lock, the pleasure he felt when the key turned was indescribable. He was meant to be here. There was a reason he bought that tin box: he felt connected to Edward Heaton more than he ever felt connected to anyone in his entire life.

I’m sitting on an absolute fortune, some idiot would pay thousands for this knife. But he wouldn’t part with it now for anything or any amount of money because it was a part of him and he still had so much work to do, work that he knew had never been finished over a hundred years ago. He wrapped it back up and hid the bag at the back of the wardrobe, pulling a blanket on top of it because if his mother found it she would phone the police in seconds. That he was her son wouldn’t matter; there would be no loyalty. Then he kissed the gold chain and placed it into his tin box next to the picture of Edward and put it back on the shelf. He needed to play it cool for now, wait until all the fuss had died down. He knew it would take a while because missing girls were big news in this small town.

He sat down in his armchair and looked out of the bedroom window that faced onto the busy front street. He liked to watch the people going in and out of the newsagents across the road. There would be a steady flow of traffic until about seven o’clock and then it would slow to a trickle and become peaceful. If only they all knew that he was watching them and that, should he decide to do something about it, they would well and truly know. He felt invincible.

The young lad who had taken over running the shop for his grandad came out to put today’s flyers on the billboard for the evening paper. He stared at the headline: LOCAL TEENAGE GIRL MISSING. They could search all they wanted. He doubted very much that they would find her. Even if they searched the house that small room in the cellar had been hidden since the 1900s and no one knew of its existence except him.

The light was fading rapidly, the steady drizzle after the storm making the woods treacherous, so Will decided to call it a day. If the girl was here she was deep in the trees and bushes and it was too dangerous to send people in. The Abbey was surrounded by fields that went on for a couple of miles in each direction. There had been no dog handler available because there was a big drugs job on in Workington so, in other words, it was looking pretty hopeless for today. The area had no CCTV coverage except for one small camera on the corner of the house at the bottom of the track that led to the woods. Will doubted that it even worked; they never did when you really needed them to. He was frustrated. There were dead ends everywhere. Several roads led away from this area which made it possible to reach any number of villages or towns and most of them were within walking distance. Jenna White could be anywhere. He hoped she was safe and staying somewhere of her own free will, but his gut instinct told him different and he had a feeling it would be a corpse they would find, if they were that lucky.

He had liaised with the Chief Inspector a couple of hours ago. He had been reluctant to call in air support for a missing teenager who had walked away from her home address on her own two feet: the budget cuts were playing heavily on his mind. Will couldn’t blame him and his hunch wasn’t going to be enough to convince him otherwise, at least not before the dogs had made a thorough search of the area.

He walked the perimeter of the crumbling mansion one last time; double-checking there was no way anyone could have gained entry. He found himself standing on the top step before the front door and shivered at the brass doorknocker: it was the freakiest thing he had ever seen. He still wanted to check the inside. If he didn’t it would niggle away at him until he did and at least it gave him an excuse to go back and talk to Annie.

Will wandered towards Jake. ‘That’s it for today. I’m going to see Annie, ask if she can show me around the house.’

Jake wolf whistled and winked.

Will growled, ‘Get stuffed.’

‘See you later, Detective Sergeant. Enjoy your coffee.’

Will walked away annoyed with Jake: he could be so childish at times. The rest of the search team headed on down the path that would take them back to the cars parked at the entrance of the woods. But he took the path that forked to the left and led to the farmhouse. He knew they were eager to leave the woods before it got dark, he was himself but he wanted to see Annie again. She must be brave staying up here on her own; he doubted he would be able to.

He took out his phone and tried to ring the office to see if Laura had any updates for him. He had left her manning the phones and ringing around a list of Jenna’s friends who hadn’t been in when officers had called earlier. No signal: this place was a bloody nightmare. Following the narrow path that led to the farmhouse he felt the tiny hairs on the back of his neck begin to prickle: someone was watching him. He turned and stared into the trees but couldn’t see anyone. Why did he feel so unnerved? A loud bark echoed through the trees and a big black dog came tearing towards him.

‘Tess!’ The dog stopped in her tracks, turned and raced back to Annie, who was standing by the gate.

‘Hello again, I’m sorry to bother you but I need a favour.’

‘Where’s Jake?’

‘The big guy went back to the station because he’s too scared to be up here in the dark.’

Annie laughed. ‘He’s such a wimp. What can I do to help, Will?’

Will thought that Jake probably had the right idea because he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched: he didn’t like it. ‘You did say you have a key for the mansion, didn’t you?’

‘I do, would you like it?’

‘It’s just, I’m thinking we need to cover all our bases. I know there is no way she could get in but I need to check all the same and besides I’ve always wanted to go inside but it’s been boarded up as long as I can remember.’

‘Of course, but I really wouldn’t suggest going in there tonight. It’s a bit of a wreck and would be dangerous in the dark. Like I said, I didn’t see anything when I was in there earlier.’

Will shivered as the temperature dropped along with the rest of the daylight. ‘No, tomorrow is fine. What time is good for you?’

‘I’m up at the crack of dawn so come as soon as you start work. You’ll need some old clothes though, not fancy suits and Italian loafers.’

Will pretended to look hurt. ‘Are you disrespecting my Tesco designer suits and Matalan shoes? What’s wrong with this look?’

Annie giggled and he liked the way it transformed the mask of worry she had been wearing since he first saw her earlier.

‘Nothing. They are very nice but you wouldn’t want to ruin them, would you?’

He shrugged and turned to leave.

‘Would you like a coffee?’

He told her he would love one and she opened the gate. Tess, who had decided that Will was OK, was running around his legs almost tripping him up. ‘Is she being friendly or purposely trying to break my neck?’

‘Both. She’s a lovable pain in the arse.’

Will bent down to scratch behind her ears and she flopped down on her belly. ‘Oh I see, one of those, are you? One stroke and you are anybody’s?’

‘So is her owner.’

Will’s expression of mock horror soon put the colour back into Annie’s cheeks and she stuttered, ‘I’m not her owner. I meant my brother.’

‘Oh that’s disappointing I could have given you a really good scratch between your ears.’

Annie laughed. His sense of humour was making him more attractive by the minute: Mike had been so miserable all of the time. Will followed her into the kitchen. ‘Tea, coffee or, if you’ve finished for the day, would you like a glass of wine?’

‘After today the wine would go down very well but I best stick with the coffee. I still need to go back, update the missing person’s report and go over everything we have up to now, which isn’t very much.’

Annie busied herself making a pot of fresh coffee and hoped the disappointment didn’t show on her face. Of course he can’t drink wine on duty, you idiot. You of all people should know that. For a brief moment she had imagined the pair of them getting drunk. She would give anything not to be alone tonight.

‘I’d love to come up some other time though when I’m not working, if the offer is still open.’

‘Anytime you’re passing. If you’re passing. I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying here but it’s at least the next two months.’

They drank their coffee and chatted about work and Jake. When Will stood up to leave it was completely dark outside.

‘Thanks, Annie, that was really nice. Do I turn left at the bottom of this path? I’ve never been up here in the dark and I don’t fancy getting lost. I’d never live it down.’

Annie wasn’t sure whether he was joking or if he was just as scared as Jake had been but was too manly to say. ‘I can drop you off at your car if you want. I need to go to shopping.’

‘That would be great, I’d really appreciate it.’

Will climbed into her Mini with far more grace than she would have credited him for. She drove along the narrow lane and had a near miss with a dog walker who was dressed all in dark clothes with nothing remotely reflective on him apart from the handle of the dog lead.

‘Bloody hell! Who in their right mind would want to walk a dog up here at this time of night?’

‘Oh you would be surprised. There are people up here all hours. It’s usually teenagers who come camping in the woods but there are also the die-hard dog walkers. That was a bit close though. I never saw his dog; I hope I haven’t already run it over.’

‘I think we’d have felt the bump in this car unless of course it was a Chihuahua.’

She stopped in front of the old wooden gates and Will offered to open them.

‘It’s OK but thank you, they are so awkward it’s taken me two years to get used to them. Are you always such a gentleman?’

‘Oh yes, you should see.’ He stopped mid-sentence and Annie grinned, he had no idea how much she would like to see.

Getting out of the car she fiddled with the padlock and opened the gates then got back in and drove the short distance along the road to the red Ford Focus: a typical unmarked police car. The only problem was that every criminal in Barrow knew they were police cars so they were technically useless.

‘Thanks Annie, it’s been a pleasure. I’m back in work at eight so by the time I’ve caught up on everything I should be here around nine. Unless Jenna turns up, but I’ll let you know if she does.’

She waved goodbye to him and sped off. As soon as she reached the main road her phone began buzzing: she had three missed calls and two text messages and she didn’t need to look closely to see that they were all from Jake wanting to know the gossip. There wasn’t any and she wondered to herself would she have liked it if there was, or was she being a fool? It was only ten days since Mike had almost killed her and she had walked out of their twelve-year marriage. She hadn’t loved him for at least the last five years of it and had spent more time hating him than she ever had loving him. Her head was telling her to keep well clear of Will but her stomach got butterflies whenever she thought of him.

He swore but the car had been going too fast to take much notice of him. It was a good job he had been swinging the dog lead around. After reading the headlines on the billboard he couldn’t settle. The taxi driver who lived next door had told his mother the Abbey was sealed off and there were search teams out there. He had been so careful, how could they know where to look? The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to the old house, but he needed to make sure everything was all right. And who exactly was driving along this track in the dark when the gates at the bottom had been locked. He knew the owner of the farm was out of the country, a friend of his mother’s told her at the spiritualist church the other week. As far as he knew the police didn’t drive Mini Cooper convertibles either. Someone must be keeping an eye on the place.

He needed to check out the farm. It hadn’t even entered his head last night when he had led the girl up here to the house. Anyone could have seen him. He had thought he had every angle covered. This was an important lesson to learn: there are a million and one ways to fuck it all up. Still, no coppers had come knocking at his door and if they had found her body this place would still be swarming with them.

He followed the path that led to the farmhouse. A light was shining through the trees from a downstairs window. Maybe they were on a timer: you wouldn’t go abroad and leave every light on in the house. Walking closer he climbed over the gate in case it made a noise when it opened. Keeping close to the house he reached the room that was lit and peered through the glass. On the table were two mugs and a black dog was asleep in the corner. A woman’s handbag was on the chair: whoever it was must be coming back. He took a look around at the assortment of barns and outbuildings. He couldn’t just leave. Not until he knew who was staying here. A door was ajar on one of the barns so he walked over and pushed it open with the tip of his boot. The smell of hay filled his nostrils and he had to lift a hand to his face to stifle a sneeze. He pulled a bale of hay from the stack and dragged it over to the tiny window that had a slight crack across the grimy glass: it gave a perfect view of the courtyard and the kitchen door. If he was lucky they would use this as the main way to go in and out. He was confident that whoever it was would have no reason to come in here at this time of night and if they did he would say he was homeless and just dossing down for the night.