Текст книги "The Lake House"

Автор книги: Helen Phifer

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

‘We need to check. Tell me exactly where it is.’

Davey, who was now shivering and feeling shaken at the thought of whatever it was down in that tunnel that had been coming after him, did his best to explain. James and the two policemen ran up the stone steps to go out and search for this den. Davey followed and then realised they hadn’t replaced the cover. Whatever it was could get up out of the hole. Terrified to go back on his own he ran over to it and strained to pull the metal cover, but he had this feeling that whatever was down there was waiting for him to leave and turn out the lights, and then it would be up here and they would all disappear. His arms aching and his knees creaking, he pulled and pulled until the cover was over the hole as best as he could do. It didn’t quite fit properly but it was good enough, and then he ran from the cellar and upstairs into the wonderful, light-filled hallway. He slammed the cellar door behind him, sliding the bolt across, and at that moment he knew in his heart that they could search for the rest of their lives for little Joe Beckett and they would never find him. Whatever it was down in the tunnel had taken him away for ever. He crossed himself, jumping when Mary spoke.

‘For the love of God, Davey, you smell like something the dog dragged in and you don’t look much better. Go and get washed and changed before you dare to set foot in my kitchen. Have they found Master Joe yet?’

He shook his head and tears filled his eyes. He lifted his damp sleeve to brush it against his face and wipe them away.

‘No, Mary, not yet.’

Before she asked him anything else he ran along to the narrow staircase used by the staff and up the stairs to the staff bathroom. After slamming the door shut and locking it, he looked into the mirror. His face had lines underneath his eyes that hadn’t been there this morning. He ran the water and stripped off his now ruined clothes. Stepping into the bath, he wanted nothing more than to stay in there and soak away the memories of that thing but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to tell Mr Beckett or the coppers what he’d heard in the tunnel. They would think he was going mad and then probably send him back down there until he’d crawled the entire length. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go back in that hole because he knew now that whatever it was had smelt him and would be waiting for him.

Davey had no idea how he knew this but he did. It was like a predator scenting its prey. If he went back down there it would be curtains for him and he was too selfish to die down there all alone. The best thing he could do was to go and help search the woods for Master Joe and hope they found him safe and well because he was far too scared to go down that drain and face whatever it was. It would be easier to push it away, forget about it and hope that somewhere inside his mind he was having a bit of a breakdown, for he would rather be a stark, raving lunatic than have to face a monster that dwelled in the drains and ate children.

Chapter Seven

Megan passed a plate of chicken curry to Henry and sat down opposite him at the table, which was just big enough for them both to eat their tea on.

‘So I’ve been thinking today, a lot.’

‘What about?’

‘I want to do it again. This time I want to make sure that we shave all their hair off, while they are watching. You know what I mean?’

Henry didn’t have a bloody clue what she meant but he nodded anyway. He didn’t answer her. She could wait. Talking about murder wasn’t his number-one subject when he was eating his tea. Yes, he had a hard stomach and no feelings or empathy for his victims, but he didn’t want to talk about it at mealtimes. There were some boundaries. Megan knew this. He’d told her several times and this was when she most annoyed him, disregarding his wishes when she should know better.

Lately she was getting on his nerves, not a lot but just a touch more each day. He knew what it was. He wanted her but they had only ever slept together a couple of times, and he hadn’t been pleased with himself for breaking his own rule, which had been not to get too personally involved. He had wanted their partnership to be a working one. Things got too messy when emotions and desire got in the way. Now she was becoming needy, relying on him to come up with ideas and plans. It was hard enough trying to plan what he was going to do when he finally had Annie without having to plan abductions and murders for her as well.

He knew that if it hadn’t been for Nurse Megan befriending him in the mental hospital, he wouldn’t be here, and he tried to remind himself of this every time he found himself getting bad-tempered with her, but he wished for once she would just shut the fuck up and stop being so selfish. Megan got the message. His face had said it all so she didn’t speak another word. They both finished eating in complete silence. It was Henry who stood up to take the plates away and wash them. Once he’d rinsed them and put them away he turned to her.

‘So when are we going to do this and how?’

‘Well, I want to do it soon, not in a couple of months, and I think we should check out that barn on Walney. If it isn’t crawling all over with police, and there’s no reason it should be because no one except us has used it in years, I think we should do exactly the same as last time. Take someone over there, tie them up, let me shave their head, and then we can kill them and you can chop their head off. We can leave the body in the barn with the other one and bring the head up here as a romantic gesture for that Annie woman you like so much. A severed head is far more original than a dozen red roses. What do you think?’

‘Sounds like a plan.’

‘This time, though, we are not keeping the head in the freezer. It totally freaked me out. We do the job and dump the head straight away. I mean, how long are you going to take before you go after that copper anyway?’

‘I don’t know yet, Megan. I want to make sure it will be perfect and nothing can go wrong like last time.’

Megan adored Henry. He was her hero, and even though he’d lied to her in the hospital about wanting to apologise to Annie Graham for the harm he’d caused her, she’d known straight away that it was bullshit. She’d read a biography about Henry called Deadly Obsession and it seemed that all Henry had done was stalk and then want to kill the woman. She knew that he still wanted to kill her because she’d got away from him and ruined his life. It didn’t take a psychologist to work that out, but because Megan understood his desire to kill she didn’t mind too much about Annie. She supposed it would be a different matter the day they decided to kill her. She didn’t know how she would feel to see the man she was in love with so excited about another woman, but she’d cope. She would have to because she didn’t have a choice. To be with Henry she had to understand about his strange obsession with that policewoman, and she could put up with it all as long as, after it was over, they could still be together. He might pay her a bit more attention when that Annie was out of the picture and that could only be a good thing.

‘Yes, I’ve been meaning to ask you about those little white lies you told me back in the hospital. You didn’t mean what you said, did you? You didn’t want to make it right with her at all. I read the newspaper reports in the library and that book about you, and it said that you were obsessed with her and had been stalking her. Naughty, naughty, Henry – telling me such fibs.’

He clenched his knuckles into tight white fists, enraged that she had been checking up on him behind his back and had never had the decency to confront him about it. After putting the plates into the cupboard he turned and walked into his narrow bedroom, slamming the door and sliding the catch over so she couldn’t get in. He needed to be on his own until he calmed down and the desire to wrap his hands around Megan’s delicate throat until she choked to death had passed.

He lay on the bed and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He forced his fingers to uncurl from their fists and thought about Annie, his Annie, who looked a picture of health when he’d been watching her from the boat. So much better than when he had first got to know her and she’d had a shaved head and a big wound running across the back of it. He’d wanted to kiss that cut all better but he hadn’t got the chance. Instead that man who she had now married had been the one to do that. He’d taken her away from Henry and now she would never be his. Therefore the fitting thing to do was to take her away from him. and then they could be together for ever, because he knew that once she was dead his life would be over too, and he planned to kill himself so that he could be with her.

After an hour there was a gentle knock on his door. He had been dozing on and off. Not properly sleeping because he wasn’t tired, but in that in-between state of consciousness.

‘I’m sorry, Henry, I didn’t mean to wind you up. I wasn’t checking up on you. I was there for something else and saw a pile of newspapers tucked away in the corner. The headlines caught my eye.’

He lay there contemplating whether to bother speaking or not. He was quite happy to spend the rest of the night in here, on his own, in silence. After all it wasn’t as if he wasn’t used to it. Megan, however, didn’t like silence and would chatter on about anything and everything.

‘It’s okay. I should have told you from the start, but I was embarrassed about the whole thing.’

He heard her walk away, into her room opposite him and close her door. He was relieved that she was just as pissed off with him as he was with her. At least that meant a whole night of peace and quiet. He would make it up to her tomorrow and be extra nice, but it was a relief to have a bit of space. He turned on his side and looked out of the small window. It looked onto the hedge of the property next door. He could see through the hole he’d made into the garden. It was getting dark and it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, but he saw something move from the corner of his eye. It was only for the briefest of seconds but it was bent over on all fours, yet it looked far too big to be an animal.

He sat up and pressed his face to the glass, waiting to see if he could spot it again, but it had moved lightning fast. It couldn’t have been a deer; it wasn’t the right shape. He supposed it could have been a badger but he didn’t think they could move like that. He’d always thought they were more of a slow creature. Whatever it was, it was gone, and he thought about going outside to throw down some breadcrumbs for it so he could lure it back and see exactly what it was. But then he lay back down and shut his eyes.

He wondered just how bad the smell would be in the barn and whether or not the body had been found by the farmer or some dog walkers. They would be looking everywhere for the woman’s body now that her head had been found. It would be tricky taking another so soon but it could be done. Hadn’t he gone on a bit of a spree last time and managed to kill four people in the space of a couple of weeks without getting caught? He smiled to himself. He was a natural at this murder thing – a natural talent. It would be a shame to waste his talents. They would do it tomorrow. Strike while the police were still in an uproar about the first one. Megan wasn’t at work tomorrow so it made perfect sense. They would take a drive to Barrow to check. As long as the barn hadn’t been discovered, it would be game on.

Chapter Eight

Annie drove along the country lane to reach her house and sighed. Will had left the gate open for her so she didn’t need to climb out of the car. No matter how many times she looked at the cottage she was so proud to call it her home. She refused to think about the trouble she’d had when they first bought it. Thankfully it was calm and peaceful now. The lights were on in the bathroom and the entire downstairs was lit up. She parked her sparkling new car next to Will’s much older BMW. She had refused point blank to drive it when he’d given her the keys and led her outside to see it. Instead she’d begged him to swap cars. He could have the new one and she would drive his, but he’d shaken his head and it had been his turn to refuse.

‘You’re having a laugh, aren’t you? It’s taken me eight years to get my leather seat shaped to fit my backside. I don’t want to have to start all over again and break a new car in. You can do that. Besides I thought you’d like a Mercedes. You said when you watched that film with all the vampires in it you wished you had a car like that. Well, now you do.’

She almost broke into a run she was so excited to see Will, have her shower and put her pyjamas on. As she walked through the door he greeted her wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a black T-shirt. She threw her arms around him, hugging him tight.

‘Boy, I’ve missed you today. I kept thinking of you having to deal with that poor woman’s head and I just wanted to be with you.’

He lifted his hand to her forehead to check if she had a temperature.

‘I missed you too. Are you feeling okay?’

‘Of course I am. I’m just a bit tired and hungry.’

‘Good. Tea’s almost done.’

‘Have I got time for a quick shower?’

He nodded his head then leant over and kissed her.

‘A quick one – I took a bit of effort making this. But your Coco Pops are on standby if you don’t like it.’

She giggled and turned to go upstairs to the bathroom where she could strip off and wash away the aches and pains of the day under the hot water.

When she came downstairs her stomach grumbled as she inhaled the smell of roast beef and all the trimmings. In the kitchen Will was just plating up the vegetables and she walked behind him and kissed the back of his neck.

‘You do know that you spoil me, don’t you?’

‘I do, but it makes me happy to spoil you. So that makes it okay, don’t you think?’

‘As long as you’re happy then so am I, and I’m starving. Good choice, Mr Ashworth.’

He laughed and turned around to kiss her.

‘When are you not starving?’

If anyone else had said that she would have been insulted but not Will. He never judged her or commented on how much she ate. She did have a healthy appetite but she knew that he was an angel because he never deep-fried anything and always cooked as healthily as he could to help her. Although he’d never seen her when she was really overweight and miserable, he knew that she was very conscious about what she ate, which practically made him a saint in her eyes. Mike, her abusive ex-husband, would demand fried foods and fatty takeaways, and then he would enjoy calling her names and making her cry.

How she had changed in three years. She was a completely different person from back then and she wondered what hold he’d had over her to make her let him treat her the way he did. Will put the plate of roast dinner down in front of her and she sighed.

‘Pass me the mint sauce?’

‘It’s beef, not lamb.’

‘I know but I like mint sauce on any roast. Gives it a kick.’

He took the glass jar from the cupboard and passed it to her. ‘Glass of wine?’

‘Maybe later, thanks. I think I’ll fall asleep halfway through my tea if I do. I’m so tired. I must have been dreaming last night but I can’t remember what about. Was I tossing and turning much?’

‘Only the usual. Your night-time exercise keeps me warm. You get so hot I can feel the heat radiating off you in waves. It saves us a fortune not having to put the central heating on.’

They both began to eat, Annie trying her best not to think about Martha Beckett and Will trying to block out the image of Beth O’Connor’s severed head all alone in the fridge bank at the morgue.

***

Megan was tired and grumpy and she felt bad for upsetting Henry. She knew that she had, but she’d been on her feet all day in that coffee shop while he’d been able to potter around here doing nothing more strenuous than driving to pick her up. She wasn’t really mad at him, more irritated by their financial situation. She knew that he couldn’t go and get a job and had to keep a very low profile, but she would like it if she didn’t have to go to work as well.

Her eyes became heavier and she turned on her side with her back to her window, the smallest window on earth. Even the inmates at the hospital had bigger rooms, with large windows that looked out onto the landscaped gardens – even if they did have metal bars across them. They even had an en suite, which was a laugh considering what sick bastards most of them were. Most average hard-working families didn’t have such luxuries.

She didn’t regret her decision to help Henry escape but she was bored of it now, not totally bored but she was an all-or-nothing kind of girl. She wanted to kill again and read all about it in the papers, hear people discussing it in the café. Listen to them speculate about what monster could commit such crimes when the monster had just served them with a vanilla latte and a slice of lemon cake.

She was almost asleep when a loud scratching noise from under the caravan made her eyes open wide. She listened again but it was silent. She shuddered at the thought of some animal underneath there trying to get in; she hated rats or badgers, anything that wasn’t cute and fluffy. It happened again and this time she threw her covers back and sat up. It sounded as if it was directly below her bed. She lifted her duvet up to check there wasn’t a big rat under there and sighed with relief that there wasn’t. Pressing her face against the window she peered into the blackness and waited for her eyes to adjust. She couldn’t see anything. A loud thud against the metal side of the caravan shook the glass and she pulled her face back, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Megan backed away from the window and got back on her bed. Maybe it was some stupid bird or a deer. In fact, it probably was. She turned on her side, facing away from the window, and closed her eyes.

There was no more noise and she began to drift off once more. She was almost asleep when she heard a sharp scratching noise. This time it was against the glass of her window. She turned over and screamed. There was a face peering through the glass. At least, it looked like a face, but then again it didn’t. It had the greyest skin and the sharpest teeth that were huge. It must have been tall because she couldn’t reach her window and neither could Henry – the caravan was on bricks to keep it off the ground. The thing lifted its arms to bang on the glass and Megan screamed even louder because at the end of them were razor-sharp, black claws. Henry came barging through the door in only his boxers to see what was wrong. She ran to him and threw her arms around him.

‘Jesus Christ, Megan, I thought you were being murdered.’

The irony didn’t go amiss on Henry and if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was so white and shaking he would have started to laugh.

‘There’s someone outside…not someone, something.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like a man that looks like a scary dead man but he doesn’t have any hands and he was scratching at the window.’

‘A man that didn’t look like a man with no hands was scratching on the glass? How the fuck did he manage that with no hands? You must have been dreaming.’

‘I wasn’t. It’s outside. First of all it was scratching under the caravan and then it was banging against the side. Did you not hear it?’

‘No, I was asleep. All I heard was you.’

‘I looked out but couldn’t see anything so I got back in bed and it began to scratch at the window with these horrible, sharp, black claws.’

Henry scratched at his head. She was out of her tiny mind. He didn’t think she’d been drinking. He’d never seen her take drugs. Maybe the stress was all getting too much for her and she was losing it.

‘Look, we are in a caravan park in England and as far as I know there are no men with claws for hands that live around here.’ He squeezed her tight and stroked her head.

‘You’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. We’ve done some things that would freak out most normal people and you haven’t had time to adjust. It’s probably a combination of everything and the fact that you’re tired. I swear you must have been dozing off and dreamt it. Sometimes dreams can be so realistic you don’t know that it was a dream.’

‘Will you go and check outside, please? Make sure the door is locked when you come back in, but I don’t want to stay in here on my own.’

He nodded. Barefoot and in only his underwear he went to the caravan door. It was completely dark now. He could hear the water from the lake lapping at the edge of the shore and from somewhere in the distance laughter echoed through the trees. He stood on the top step and looked around. He couldn’t see anything. He didn’t actually believe that he would. The air was a lot cooler tonight than it had been the last few days and he shivered. He stepped back inside and locked the door behind him. Megan was waiting in the kitchen clutching a frying pan in her hands. If she hadn’t looked so scared and vulnerable he would have laughed, but he didn’t.

‘There’s nothing. Honestly, you dreamt it.’

She breathed out and put the pan on the worktop, nodding her head.

‘Come on, why don’t you sleep with me tonight? We can keep each other warm and I’ll protect you.’

She followed him into the bedroom and he wondered if pretty little Megan was not as tough as she’d made out. She insisted on sleeping next to the wall, as far away from his window as possible. and she told him to draw the curtains, so nothing could look in. Henry did as she asked then climbed under the covers next to her. She was so cold she was shaking. He wrapped his arms around her and began to tell her about his plans for tomorrow.