Hushabye (20 page)

There was a silence behind her. Kate kept her eyes on that tiny piece of clothing, snapping and flexing in the breeze.

Then Mary said, “You did what you had to, I suppose.”

Kate blinked hard. Anderton’s words were reverberating around her skull.
Selfishness. That’s what every crime comes down to in the end
. Well, she hadn’t committed a crime, but she felt as guilty as if she had, She was as selfish as the next person, wasn’t she?
Aren’t you, Kate?

“I told myself I was doing it for him,” she said slowly, almost to herself. “I told myself it was the best thing for him.”

“It might have been.”

The babygrow blurred in Kate’s vision.

“I did it for me, though,” she whispered. “It was what I wanted. I told myself I was doing it for him, but I wasn’t.”

There was a long moment of silence. Kate took a deep, shuddering breath.

There was the click of the cigarette lighter and the familiar smell of cigarette smoke wending its way up to the tarred ceiling.

“Don’t go upsetting yourself,” said Mary. “You thought you were doing the best thing at the time. Just like every mum does, love.”

When Kate arrived home, she took her usual shower, scrubbing her skin and her hair, washing her sins away. She put on her softest, most comfortable pair of pyjamas. Then, as the kettle boiled, she reached for the box under her bed, the box from her attic. She levered off the box lid, clear from dust now, and reached in. The envelope felt heavy in her hand. Would her boy open it on his eighteenth birthday? She hoped so. She curled herself up on the sofa and put the envelope up to her closed eyes for a moment, steadying herself. Then she opened it, drawing out the many sheets of paper with trembling hands and smoothing them out.

She took a deep breath, and she began to read.

THE END

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Requiem (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 2)
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A Prescription for Death (The Asharton Manor Mysteries Book 2)
and
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A Blessing From The Obeah Man.

Requiem (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 2)

When the body of troubled teenager Elodie Duncan is pulled from the river in Abbeyford, the case is at first assumed to be a straightforward suicide. Detective Sergeant Kate Redman is shocked to discover that she’d met the victim the night before her death, introduced by Kate’s younger brother Jay. As the case develops, it becomes clear that Elodie was murdered. A talented young musician, Elodie had been keeping some strange company and was hiding her own dark secrets. 
As the list of suspects begin to grow, so do the questions. What is the significance of the painting Elodie modelled for? Who is the man who was seen with her on the night of her death? Is there any connection with another student’s death at the exclusive musical college that Elodie attended? 
As Kate and her partner Detective Sergeant Mark Olbeck attempt to unravel the mystery, the dark undercurrents of the case threaten those whom Kate holds most dear…

A Prescription for Death (The Asharton Manor Mysteries: Book 2) – a novella

“I had a surge of kinship the first time I saw the manor, perhaps because we’d both seen better days.” 
It is 1947. Asharton Manor, once one of the most beautiful stately homes in the West Country, is now a convalescent home for former soldiers. Escaping the devastation of post-war London is Vivian Holt, who moves to the nearby village and begins to volunteer as a nurse’s aide at the manor. Mourning the death of her soldier husband, Vivian finds solace in her new friendship with one of the older patients, Norman Winter, someone who has served his country in both world wars. Slowly, Vivian’s heart begins to heal, only to be torn apart when she arrives for work one day to be told that Norman is dead. 
It seems a straightforward death, but is it? Why did a particular photograph disappear from Norman’s possessions after his death? Who is the sinister figure who keeps following Vivian? Suspicion and doubts begin to grow and when another death occurs, Vivian begins to realise that the war may be over but the real battle is just beginning… 

A Blessing From The Obeah Man

Dare you read on? Horrifying, scary, sad and thought-provoking, this short story collection will take you on a macabre journey. In the titular story, a honeymooning couple take a wrong turn on their trip around Barbados. The Mourning After brings you a shiversome story from a suicidal teenager. In Freedom Fighter, an unhappy middle-aged man chooses the wrong day to make a bid for freedom, whereas Little Drops of Happiness and Wave Goodbye are tales of darkness from sunny Down Under. Strapping Lass and The Club are for those who prefer, shall we say, a little meat to the story…

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Want more Kate Redman? The second novel in the series,
Requiem (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 2)
,
is available on Amazon.

REQUIEM (A Kate Redman Mystery)

When the body of troubled teenager Elodie Duncan is pulled from the river in Abbeyford, the case is at first assumed to be a straightforward suicide. Detective Sergeant Kate Redman is shocked to discover that she’d met the victim the night before her death, introduced by Kate’s younger brother Jay. As the case develops, it becomes clear that Elodie was murdered. A talented young musician, Elodie had been keeping some strange company and was hiding her own dark secrets.
As the list of suspects begin to grow, so do the questions. What is the significance of the painting Elodie modelled for? Who is the man who was seen with her on the night of her death? Is there any connection with another student’s death at the exclusive musical college that Elodie attended?
As Kate and her partner Detective Sergeant Mark Olbeck attempt to unravel the mystery, the dark undercurrents of the case threaten those whom Kate holds most dear…

Read the first two chapters of Requiem below:

REQUIEM

(A KATE REDMAN MYSTERY: BOOK 2)

CELINA GRACE

© Celina Grace 2013

Chapter One

The girl’s body lay on the riverbank, her arms outflung. Her blonde hair lay in matted clumps, shockingly pale against the muddy bank. Her face was like a porcelain sculpture that had been broken and glued back together: grey cracks were visible under the white sheen of her dead skin. Her lips were so blue they could have been traced in ink. Purple half-moons pooled beneath the dark fan of her eyelashes.

“So, what do you think?” asked Jay Redman.

His half-sister cocked her head to one side. “It’s very...powerful,” she said cautiously. She reached a finger out toward the scene, realising something.

“It’s
not
a photograph, is it? Wow, it looks just like one.”

Jay Redman’s painting technique was called ‘hyperrealism’; it mimicked the precision of a photograph, but the image was delineated in paint.  She looked at her little brother with a mixture of affection and exasperation. She appreciated the gesture, and God, Jay had real talent, but what on Earth made him think she’d want a picture of a dead girl hung above the fireplace? It was like looking at a crime scene photograph.

“It’s great, isn’t it?” said Jay. He adjusted the frame slightly, straightening it like a proud father pulling the shoulders of his son’s first school blazer into shape. “Best thing I’ve done so far.”

“Yes, indeed!” said Kate, trying to sound enthusiastic.

“It’s for our end of year show. My tutor thinks it’s great—he thinks it might even win the Bolton Prize.”

“That’s the top award, isn’t it? That’s brilliant, Jay. Why are you giving it to me?”

“I thought you’d like to have it for a while,” said Jay, still staring proudly at the painting. “It’s a housewarming present. On loan.”

“Well, thank you.”

“I’m calling it ‘Ophelia Redux.’”

Kate felt another burst of affection towards her sibling. How wonderful it was to have someone in the family who knew Shakespeare, who had even 
read
Shakespeare. It was clear why she and Jay got along so well, and it was something more than the fact that Kate had practically brought him up. There was no one else in the Redman family and its many offshoots who could talk about things other than reality television and the latest tabloid headlines. Kate had pulled herself up by her bootstraps, and here was Jay, doing the same, even if the path he was taking was a different one to hers.

“It’s great, Jay,” she said, and her pride in her younger brother gave her tone a warmth which made her sound sincere. Jay beamed.

“I’m well proud of it,” he said, reminding his sister that he did, in fact, have some way to go before he shook off his roots entirely. She gave herself a swift mental kick for being so judgemental.

“It’s well good,” she said, grinning. “Now, have you seen the rest of the house?”

“Can you show me after a drink?”

“Of course, sorry.” Kate headed for the kitchen, still a little unfamiliar with the layout of her new house. She’d been here all of a week, and the rooms were still packed with boxes. “Tea?”

“Haven’t you got anything stronger? We 
are
 supposed to be celebrating your move, you know, sis.”

“Um…” Kate opened a few kitchen cupboards hopelessly. There was probably an ancient bottle of wine packed in one of the many cardboard boxes but where, exactly?

Jay rolled his eyes.

“Luckily for me, I know what you’re like.” He put his hand into his ragged green backpack and pulled out a bottle of champagne with a flourish. “See how good I am?”

“Jay, that’s brilliant. How do you afford champagne on a student’s budget?”

“Ah,” said Jay. “Now there you have me.”

“You didn’t steal it?” gasped Kate, horrified.

“’
Course
 not, sis, what do you take me for?” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “It’s not real champagne. Just cheap fizz.”

Kate smiled, relieved. “It’ll do fine. As long as you don’t mind drinking it out of mugs.”

“Classy.”

“I think you mean ‘bohemian.’”

Kate sat on the sofa she’d brought from her old flat, and Jay took the new armchair she’d splashed out on when she moved. They clinked mugs and sipped. Kate found her gaze being drawn to the painting of the girl once more.

“Who’s the model?” she asked. She looked at the mock-dead face, noting the fine bones under the unnatural pallor of her skin.

“My mate, Elodie.”

There was a casualness in Jay’s voice that didn’t deceive Kate, especially with all her experience with reading what was unsaid.

“Girlfriend?”

Jay slugged back the rest of his champagne. “Nope, just a mate.”

“Right,” said Kate. She tipped a little bit more fizz in Jay’s mug. “Is she on your course?”

Jay was in his second year at the Abbeyford School of Art and Drama, a further education college that specialised in the visual and dramatic arts. Kate had been thrilled when he’d decided to study there; her home town of Bournemouth was well over an hour’s drive away from her new location, and while Jay had still lived at home, she’d not seen much of him.

“Nope. She’s a musician, goes to Rawlwood.”

Kate raised her eyebrows. “She must be good, then. They hardly accept anyone there, unless they’re the new—um.” She groped for a famous classical musician. “A new Stradivarius, or something.”

“Eh?”

“I mean, it’s really hard to get a place there.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Well, it probably helps that she’s the Headmaster’s daughter.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. But, actually, she 
is
 a talented musician, really good. She plays violin in this great band. Lorelei.”

“Lorelei?”

“That’s the band name. They play sort of folk rock. It’s good—” Jay said, seeing Kate’s unconvinced look. “Actually, there’s a gig on tonight. I meant to tell you. Did you want to go?”

“Tonight?” asked Kate, doubtfully.

“Oh, come on,” said Jay. “I know you normally need your plans signed off three weeks in advance before you commit to anything, but come on, sis, it’ll do you good. You need to get out sometimes, you know. Start meeting people. Start joining in.”

It was Kate’s turn to roll her eyes. “I’m not a hermit, you know. I do have a social life.”

“I’m not talking about hanging out with all your copper mates. That’s not a social life—that’s 
work
. You need to get out and meet some normal people.”