Читать книгу The Doctor - Lisa Stone, Lisa Stone - Страница 19

‘What do you make of this?’ Emily asked Ben, as they settled in front of the television to watch the evening news. She clicked on the video clip, passed her phone to him and waited while he watched it.

Ben laughed. ‘Goodness knows. But I hope he didn’t see you take it. It won’t help neighbourly relations.’ He handed back her phone.

‘He was too busy with what he was doing to see me,’ Emily said. ‘I heard the lorry at the front while I was changing Robbie. He was all excited when I showed him. When the driver took that thing off the lorry and wheeled it down their sideway, I couldn’t resist going into our bedroom for a better view. Why would you want that in your shed?’

‘No idea. It looks like a water cylinder. Perhaps he likes a bath down there,’ Ben joked.

‘It’s the right size and shape to hold a body.’ Emily shuddered.

‘Perhaps he’s going to do you in,’ Ben teased.

‘Or his wife,’ Emily said. ‘Seriously though. Don’t you think it’s odd?’

‘I guess. But each to his own.’

They fell silent as the main news came on. They always tried to watch the news in the evening once Robbie was in bed. There was the usual depressingly familiar update on war-torn Syria, rape allegations against another prominent figure, doom and gloom about the world economy and the persistently high levels of city pollution. After the UK and international news, the channel went through to regional news where a female reporter was standing beside a taped-off area in Coleshaw Woods.

‘A shocking and grisly discovery was made here early this morning by a man walking his dog,’ the report began. ‘A grave containing more than fifty animals including cats and dogs was unearthed when the man’s dog began digging. The owner called the police and they and the RSPCA – Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals – have taken away the carcasses for examination. One line of enquiry is that this could be part of a gruesome satanic ritual as all the animal bodies appear to have been drained of their blood.’

‘Oh no!’ Emily cried, shocked and disgusted, her hand flying to her mouth.

‘There are some nutters around,’ Ben said.

The man whose dog had dug up the animals was now interviewed. ‘It’s left me completely shocked,’ he said. ‘I took a different route through the woods this morning, a part that not many use in winter and suddenly Rex began digging frantically in that spot.’ He pointed to the area behind them. ‘He dug up a few mice first and I thought they might have died naturally, but then he dug up part of a rabbit, a cat and a dog and I realized it was a graveyard.’ He said again that the incident had left him badly shaken; he was an animal lover and would hate the thought of his pet ending up like this. The reporter said that other possible reasons for the animals being there were that they had come from a laboratory or a veterinary practice that had dumped the animals rather than pay for the correct disposal, which was illegal.

Emily felt sick. ‘You don’t think Tibs could be among them?’

‘I doubt it,’ Ben said. ‘Coleshaw Woods is over half an hour’s drive from here. It’ll be as the reporter said – a lab or vet avoiding the costs of disposing of them properly. Gruesome all the same.’

The camera went to another local news item and Emily took her iPad from the coffee table. As Ben continued watching the news, she began searching online to see if there were any more details about the animals found in Coleshaw Woods. There was nothing beyond what the news report had said. A shame there wasn’t a telephone number for those worried about their pets to phone, she thought, similar to the helpline number given out for relatives after a major disaster. She closed the tablet and sat with it on her lap, half watching the news. Ben was probably right, but it didn’t stop her worrying. Bad enough that Tibs hadn’t returned and they’d had to accept she was probably dead, but far worse if she’d met her end sacrificed as part of a sadistic cult ritual.

She went cold. Who knew what Tibs might have suffered in her final hours. The news item had said the animals had been drained of blood. How? Why? Had they been alive? She tried to push these thoughts from her mind, but they returned. Again and again. There were some really evil people out there.

That night, Emily dreamt she heard Tibs meowing, crying out for them, as she was held down and gruesomely slaughtered. She woke in a cold sweat. Coleshaw Woods was half an hour’s drive away as Ben had said, trying to reassure her, but that wasn’t far, not really.

The following morning as soon as Emily was up and Ben had left for work, she checked online to see if any more details had been added to the news story. The local Gazette had covered the story, but it was now old news so it had been pushed off the first page. There were no further details.

She’d arranged to meet a friend, Hannah, for lunch. She lived locally, had a similar-aged child and had also seen the news item. It wasn’t long before they were discussing it and Emily confided she feared Tibs might be among the dead animals.

‘I think it’s unlikely,’ Hannah said. ‘I mean, how would Tibs have got all the way over there?’

‘Unless someone grabbed her close to home – from our street?’

‘I think they’ve come from a lab, probably been bred there or bought for experimenting on. Poor things,’ Hannah sighed. Emily knew she was trying to reassure her, but it didn’t help any more than Ben’s words had.

‘Tibs was microchipped,’ Emily said. ‘I’ve been wondering if any of those animals were.’

‘It didn’t say on the news, but if they’ve come from a lab they won’t be.’

‘But if they haven’t, they could be people’s pets,’ Emily persisted. ‘Dogs run off and you can’t watch cats the whole time.’

‘It’s obviously worrying you, so if you think there’s a chance Tibs might be among them, why not phone and ask if any were microchipped?’

‘Yes, but who would I phone?’

‘The RSPCA, I guess, or our local police station. If it’s not them, then they should know who’s dealing with it.’

Robbie was asleep in the pushchair by the time Emily arrived home and she quietly parked him in the hall. It was virtually impossible to have a phone conversation when he was awake, so she grabbed the opportunity to make the call now. Closing the living room door so she wouldn’t disturb him, she used her mobile to google the number for the RSPCA.

The customer services number went through to a recorded message which offered various options including animal emergencies, but none of them were relevant for what she needed to ask, and included the suggestion of looking at their website. She cut the call, googled the number of the local police station and pressed to call. Another answerphone message that began by saying if it was an emergency to hang up and dial 999, if not stay on the line. She waited and was then presented with more options, the last of which was to hold to speak to someone in person.

Five minutes later, her call was answered and she explained she was phoning about the animal bodies found in Coleshaw Woods. The officer said he was unfamiliar with the case but would find out who she needed to speak to. He came back on the line with another number for her to phone. She thanked him, tried the new number, but an answerphone clicked in inviting her to leave a message. At the same time, Robbie woke; frustrated, she knew she’d have to try again later.

The rest of the day disappeared in keeping Robbie amused, housework and then preparing dinner. Ben was late home, tired, and had to catch an early train in the morning. They watched the news, although there was nothing more about the animals in Coleshaw Woods and Emily didn’t mention it again.

The following morning she kissed Ben goodbye and saw him off at the door in her dressing gown, grateful that she didn’t have to leave for work on a cold frosty morning. It was only when Robbie had his lunchtime nap that Emily was able to use the phone again uninterrupted. She called the number she’d been given by the officer the day before and this time it didn’t go through to answerphone but call waiting. She was third in the queue. Her initial enthusiasm for trying to find out if Tibs could be among the animals in Coleshaw Woods was waning and she wondered if she was wasting police time – phoning about a missing cat when they would have many other more important crimes to solve. When it was finally her turn, she began with an apology. ‘I’m sorry, this is probably nothing, but my cat is missing. I saw the news report about the animals found in Coleshaw Woods and was given this number to phone.’

‘Yes, your name please,’ the officer said with resignation.

‘Emily King.’

‘And your address and telephone number? We’re keeping details of all those who’ve phoned in.’

‘So others have contacted you with missing pets?’

‘Yes, hundreds,’ he sighed. ‘From all over the country.’

She gave him her contact details.

‘And a description of your cat please, although I should say we won’t be able to match owners to their pets.’

‘So they are definitely pets?’ Emily asked.

‘It seems likely.’

‘They haven’t come from a lab?’

‘No. Would you like to leave a description of your cat?’ he asked, a little impatiently.

‘Yes. Sorry. She was four years old, a brown tabby, spayed. She used to wear a collar with my mobile phone number on, but that was returned to me.’

‘So why do you think your cat might be among those in Coleshaw Woods?’

‘She’s vanished without trace. Were any of the cats microchipped? Tibs was.’

‘We believe some were, yes.’

Her heart missed a beat. ‘Have you contacted the owners?’

‘No. The microchips were cut out from the animals.’

‘What?’ she gasped. ‘Cut out? Why?’

‘Presumably to stop identification.’

‘Oh my God. That’s horrible.’ She thought she was going to be sick. ‘So I’ll never know if Tibs was one of them?’

‘It’s unlikely.’

She took a deep breath. ‘How long had they been dead?’

‘Varying lengths of time, but some quite recent. I’ve noted your details and someone will be in touch if we have any news. But, as I said, it’s unlikely we will be able to match the animals to their owners.’

‘Has anyone else had their pet’s collar returned to them?’ Emily asked.

‘Not as far as I know.’

‘So perhaps Tibs isn’t among them.’

‘I’m sorry, ma’am, it’s impossible for me to say.’ And with a polite goodbye he ended the call.

Emily told herself that Tibs wasn’t one of the cats dumped in Coleshaw Woods, for the alternative – that she had died as part of a sadistic ritual and her microchip had been cut out – was too awful to contemplate. No, Tibs was dead, probably run over when her collar had become detached, as Ben had said.

That night, she put Tibs’ food bowl and bed in a bag in the garage where they stored items they no longer needed but couldn’t bear to get rid of.