Authors: R.T Broughton
“Get me some fucking cream. It’s burning again! I’ve got rights!”
“All right, Itchy and Scratchy,” Spinoza snapped, but Miles carried on shouting behind. Then to Kathy, he said, “It’s the same again, we need to know about bodies and if this is over.”
Kathy nodded again with more determination showing this time, and the two of them moved over to Miles.
“Nazi bastards!”
“Miles,” Spinoza began, “Is this the only child you’ve taken?”
“Eat shit!”
Spinoza turned to Kathy, who was shaking her head. “I’m getting mixed up images of another child. It’s Tyler McGraf, one of the first to go missing.” Kathy showed no emotion as she spoke, but the words signalled a complete change in Miles.
“Fuck do you know that, bitch?”
“Just the two?” Spinoza asked and didn’t bother to wait for an answer from Miles. His brain was letting him down and there was nothing he could do about it.
Kathy nodded and now it was Spinoza’s turn to spring into action. “Goddam it! It’s not over! How is this happening? Where’s the body, Denver?”
Denver was silent and looked to Kathy with something resembling curiosity. Kathy didn’t answer this time.
“What have you done with the body?”
“Why don’t you ask your bitch?” he grinned toothily.
“It’s the skull and daisy again, Spinoza. It’s all I’m getting.” And once again her head was filling with the tormenting images of the flower in the hollow skull, taunting her and denying her access to the truth.
“Damn it! How were you planning to dispose of Josh Fletcher?” Again, he didn’t bother directing the question at Miles.
Kathy shook her head.
“So it’s not over and we’re no closer to finding out what’s behind this.”
Miles grinned awkwardly as if he knew he was experiencing a win but didn’t quite understand it and Spinoza had to exercise all of his restraint not to kick him in the face.
***
By the time they left the flat, the sun, which had been such a burden earlier, seemed to have taken permanent refuge in the clouds so that the blanket wrapped around Kathy was a necessity. Her head was banging after the whack she had taken and her stomach was going to be bruised for some time, but she was just happy to be alive and allowed herself to be led by Spinoza, into his car.
“Where are you going?” she asked when he didn’t join her.
“Just sit tight. I need to dot a few ‘I’s and I’ll be right with you.”
Left alone, Kathy watched him return to the flat and took a deep breath. She was pleased to be on her own for a few minutes to gather her thoughts, but then she heard a voice from the back seat.
“I thought you were dead, Kathy. You must not do things like this.”
“Suri!” Kathy’s hand leapt to her chest as if she were about to have a heart attack. “I forgot all about you.”
“You could have been dead. Miles Denver is monster.”
“You’re telling me,” Kathy sighed. She was about to say more when the driver’s door opened and Spinoza folded himself in behind the wheel. He was far too tall for the vehicle and pushed the seat out as far as it would go to get comfortable.
“Right, to the hospital,” he said seriously and started the engine.
“Just take me home, Spinoza, please.”
“No can do. You’ve had an extremely traumatic ordeal.”
“I’m absolutely fine. I just need to be at home around my own things.”
“Well, you’ll need to come in at some point and make a statement, too.” But then he added, “In fact…” and let the thought hang in the air. “Hmmm!”
Kathy didn’t need to be psychic to follow his thoughts.
In fact, what about this whole psychic business? No one would believe what led her to be there.
But then
Hmmm, we’ll have to tell them something.
“Just take us home,” Kathy told him firmly and watched the familiar sights of the town passing her by as they cruised towards her street. Within minutes he pulled up outside her house.
“Will you be okay?” he asked as Kathy got out of the car, followed by Suri.
“I’m always okay,” she smiled weakly and had never been so pleased to see the inside of her house in her entire life.
***
Following a long bath that swallowed up the rest of the daylight, Kathy came into the living room wrapped in her robe with a towel twisted onto her head. She had thought it best to leave Suri to it after pointing her in the direction of where the bread was kept and showing her the fridge, for what it was worth, and the bath had worked its magic once again. By the end of it she was able to close her eyes without seeing Miles Denver’s face smiling down at her. The bruising to her stomach was also soothed and the couple of glasses of wine that had accompanied the soaking hadn’t hurt either. Alcohol was a necessity in a situation like this; she largely felt as if she had been beaten up, dragged through a hedge and run over, but the alcohol made her care less about this fact. She dropped herself onto the sofa and fired up the laptop. The day had begun with the hope of a conversation with Brady and now she would finally have the chance. She clicked the icon for Skype and made the call, but there was no answer. This wasn’t surprising because of Brady’s life in the army, it was rare to catch her in this way, but not impossible. She tried again a few minutes later, always led by the image in her head of the recipient running to catch the call and just missing her. Again there was no answer, so she opened her email account. There was nothing there from Brady, but her mother had left her a message about dinner with the new baby boyfriend—next Saturday night.
“God!” Kathy tutted. Now it was down in black and white there was no way of getting out of it. How could she be seeing someone so young? What was the world coming to? She tutted and sighed, but couldn’t find the stride of full-blown disapproval with so much going on in her own life, so she closed the message and decided to compose one of her own to Brady. Unfortunately, after three or four stop-start attempts, she realized that her head just wasn’t in the right place to reflect on anything that had happened over the last few days, much less give any of it to Brady. She finally wrote a few words to the effect that she missed her and there was much to fill her in on, and then closed the laptop. She closed her eyes again, enjoying the wine-induced peace and quiet, but when she opened them she saw that Suri was standing in the doorway.
“Suri!” she snapped, once again shaken by her presence. “How long have you been standing there?”
“I have just come in.”
“Did you make yourself something to eat?”
“No,” Suri said, showing no particular emotion for the subject.
“Oh well, maybe we can fix you something later.”
Suri hesitantly stepped in the room and opened her mouth to speak, unsmiling, but Kathy got in first. “In fact, here’s twenty pounds,” she said, dragging a note out of her purse. “Why don’t you go and see a movie. You can get the bus at the end of the road. There’s change in the jar in the kitchen.”
Suri’s mouth snapped shut and then slightly slackened, clearly loaded with questions and confessions, memories, fears, and needs. The smile that ordinarily accompanied her so stringently though her life were nowhere in evidence, but she managed a weak smile at the mention of the cinema.
“That should be enough to get you in and get you something to eat and drink,” Kathy continued and then concluded the conversation by closing her eyes once again.
After a brief pause, Kathy heard Suri thank her and leave the room. Her slow, heavy stride took her to the top of the stairs and then there was movement in the room above. Kathy followed the progress with her eyes facing skywards until her footsteps were heard on the stairs again, descending, followed by the sound of the front door opening and closing.
“Goodbye, Kathy,” Suri called into the room and Kathy simply sighed, enjoying being completely alone for the first time all day. Time had crept along to just after 8 p.m. and she would have been content to simply sit in silence until bedtime, but it wasn’t to be. Just ten minutes into her contemplative silence, the doorbell rang. Kathy didn’t move at first, initially willing whoever was impolite enough to disturb her to leave and then wishing any number of cruel and terrible fates onto them. But the knocking was relentless and she knew that she couldn’t get away. She felt lightheaded as she dragged herself off the sofa, the wine now having more than the desired effect, and opened the front door. She wasn’t overly surprised to see DCI Spinoza standing there. The big surprise was that he was wearing a pale mauve shirt with skinny jeans and a pair of red Converse. She couldn’t hide her surprise as she greeted him.
“It’s a cliché, but it works.”
Now Kathy was confused.
“The blue jeans, leather jacket; it’s become like a uniform. People know not to mess with a man in leathers.”
“And the hair?”
“It would break my mum’s heart if I cut this off,” he said, gripping his ponytail.
Kathy smiled despite herself. She could smell the rich aftershave rolling in off his body and this new look matched it perfectly. “So you’re not on duty?”
“Apparently not,” Spinoza replied and presented a bottle of red from behind his back. “I thought you could do with a glass.”
Kathy put her hand to her mouth, now conscious of the winey breath that told the story of her evening. “That’s very forward of you.”
“Forward? Me? I’m not the one who went charging into the home of a known paedophile today.”
Kathy opened her mouth to protest, visible offended.
“I’m sorry,” Spinoza said before she could speak. “That’s not what I came here to say. We should be celebrating. Josh is safe, and Miles is behind bars. It’s been a good day.”
“But we both know it’s not over.”
He leaned into the doorway and Kathy could see by his eyes that she wasn’t the only one who had already enjoyed a few glasses of the hard stuff. “Can I come in?”
Kathy looked out into the street as if she were seriously considering the question and then stepped aside. “I’ll get some glasses.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t tell me that your niece was staying with you,” Spinoza called to the kitchen as he wandered into the living room and made himself comfortable on the sofa.
“Why?” Kathy answered, returning with two glasses. “I can’t run everything by you.”
“But when I was here this morning, I thought…”
“Yes?”
“Nothing, so is she staying long?”
“Not too long, I hope.” Kathy filled Spinoza’s glass to the rim and he made no protest.
“I thought she’d be free to stay forever after today.”
“How do you mean?”
“Surely you know that she was the one who called me.”
“But that’s…” Kathy ran through events in her mind. She had her phone when she was in the flat and she parked too far away for Suri to even see what number it was.
“She called from the hospital,” Spinoza helped her. “She gave me Miles’s address and told me that she was worried because you were going to plough on in there. Turns out that she was right to have worried.” Spinoza watched as Kathy tried to make sense of it all in her head. “How did you think we ended up there? You’re the one with psychic powers, not me.”
“I hadn’t even… God, what must she think of me?”
“Why? Have you sent her to bed with no supper?”
“I may as well have done.”
They both sipped at their drinks before Spinoza opened up a new line of conversation. “One less for your list today,” he said. “Well, two if you include Miles Denver.”
“Oh, yes?”
“Stephen Howes. Social worker. He was found dead by his wife last night. Heart attack. Snuffed it while going at it over some seriously sick porn. His wife left him exactly how he fell, for all the world to see what a pervert he was. It’s up to social services what they make public, but I say they should be throwing a public party and inviting all of their clients to spit on his grave.” He raised his glass for Kathy to clink, but she was lost in thought again. “You really should have let me take you to the hospital, you know.”
“I’m fine, honestly.” Kathy raised her glass to meet his. “Actually this is exactly what I need,” she said, but again her thoughts were with Suri.
“Good, well, drink up. There’s another bottle in the bag.”
This made Kathy smile and following the instruction, she took a large gulp.
“Tell me, Kathy,” Spinoza then began. “Why are you doing this? I mean why are you really doing this?”
“Do I need a reason beyond the fact that these sickos need to be stopped? Do you even know how many children are assaulted each year by paedo bastards?”
“I do, yes, and it makes me sick, too, but I don’t live like this. I can turn it off at the end of the day. I would go mad if I couldn’t.”
“Maybe I am mad,” Kathy said and regretted it instantly. It sounded self-pitying and indulgent. “I wish I could turn it off, but it’s not that easy when you’re as aware as I am.” She didn’t go into details of how she could smell the bile of these perverts, but Spinoza’s face told her that he had some understanding.
“But even still, there must be something behind it. Why you and why just paedos and scumbags? I’m right aren’t I? You can’t just hear everyone’s thoughts?”
“Just lucky I guess.”
“Why do you always do that?”
“What?”
“Deflect. I’m trying to get to know you here, Kathy.”
“Well, as you’ve just pointed out, this is it. There’s nothing more to know, Spinoza. Look at these walls. This is me. It’s never going to end and so this is the way my life is going to be.”
“But there must be more to it.”
“Will you stop saying that?”
“Okay, so give me something. Tell me about the first psychic experience you ever had.”
Kathy shook her head. “It’s boring. Let’s eat ice cream instead.” And she darted into the kitchen, returning noisily a few minutes later with a tub and two spoons. She lumped herself beside him, unable to hide just how drunk she was, even if she was still determined to hide as many details of her life as she could.
“Okay, tell me anything. Is it so bad that I want to get to know you?”