The Forgotten Cottage (15 page)

‘Watch it; you don’t want to kill him, do you?’

Luke, who wasn’t as violent as his partner, took his eyes off the road and she screamed at him, ‘Just drive and let me deal with him.’

He knew better than to argue with her, so he focused on his driving and said nothing more. They managed to carry him into the house and down into the cellar after a bit of a struggle. The steps were narrow but they made it and dropped him onto the mattress. Will was still groggy and it was Amelia who tied him up so that he could still move a little but not far.

Luke searched Will’s pockets, pulling out his phone.

‘Make sure you take that somewhere and get rid of it; he might have some kind of tracker on it. In fact, go now and throw it in the lake or something, anywhere as long as it’s not near here. Drive up to Ambleside or somewhere and then come straight back.’

‘But it’s a new phone; do you know how much these cost? Can I not keep it?’

‘Are you a fucking idiot, Luke? No, you can’t keep his phone; it will lead the police straight to our front door. Get rid of it now.’

Luke was getting pretty sick of his psychotic girlfriend bossing him around but he was in it just as much as she was now so he might as well just do what she said until the money came in and then he was leaving her. All he wanted was a flat somewhere, a car and his Xbox. She could go and get fucked.

He went back out to the car and got in, no idea where he was driving to. He did know one thing, though; there was no way he was throwing that phone in the lake. He would go somewhere for half an hour and turn the phone off but he was keeping it. He knew from watching television that the police needed all kinds of technology to trace a phone and they were in the middle of nowhere in the Lake District; it wasn’t as if they were surrounded by some big city police force who were used to dealing with shit like this. He imagined the worst crimes they had to solve around here were a bit of sheep rustling and poaching. He drove to Ambleside, glad to be away from Amelia for a bit of peace and quiet, where he parked up for a while and shut his eyes.

***

Lily picked up the post; there were three letters, all for Tom. One of them looked like another get well card. She would take them up to him with his lunch; he had still been asleep when she’d gone in earlier with his breakfast. Amelia had phoned to say she was unwell and wouldn’t be there today and Lily had felt nothing but relief. There weren’t many people that she didn’t like but Amelia was one of them. She couldn’t put her finger on what exactly it was that she disliked but something bothered her. Maybe Tom had a virus and had passed it onto Amelia, which would explain his odd behaviour the last week.

She went into the kitchen to prepare him a light lunch and made two coffees and then she put it on a large wooden tray along with the post and carried it upstairs to Tom. She couldn’t wait to tell him that Annie was okay. She knocked on the bedroom door then walked in. Tom smiled at her and looked pleased to see her, which made her feel a lot better.

‘That’s more like it. How are you feeling today, darling?’

‘I’m a lot better, thanks. Where’s Amelia? Aren’t we paying her to be running around after me?’

Lily laughed. ‘Yes, we are, but I have no idea why. I love running around after you and I’m much cheaper.’

‘I’m sorry, Lily. I’ve been such a miserable bastard and none of it’s your fault. But there’s been a very good reason for it. There’s something I need to tell you.’

She walked over to the bed and placed the tray next to him. He glanced down at the post and his face turned white when he saw the handwritten envelope.

Lily looked at him and felt her stomach flip. ‘What’s the matter, Tom? We don’t have any secrets and you know you can tell me anything.’

His hands shaking, he reached down to pick up the envelope and slid his finger along the seal. It hadn’t been licked and was easy to open. He tugged out the card that was inside. It had a grainy black and white photograph of Will stuck to the front—he was tied up in the back seat of someone’s car and he looked unconscious. Tom felt sick. He opened the card and gasped.

Dearest Daddy
,

I told you I was lonely so I’ve brought my half-brother to stay with me
.

He didn’t want to come but after he was hit over the head with a heavy hammer there wasn’t a lot he could do about it
.

Now he’s all snug as a bug in my cellar, he can’t talk much because of the gag but he’s safe for the time being
.

I don’t want anything to do with you but I do want a share of what is mine and if you arrange to pay me what I want you can have your precious son back, relatively unharmed. There isn’t a lot I can do about the gash on his head and the black eye but they will mend
.

If you don’t pay me what I want then you can have your precious son back in a box. I don’t really care either way, he means nothing to me
.

I want you to put a million pounds in unmarked notes in a holdall and meet me to do a swap; I will give you two days to get the money together. If it takes longer then he dies
.

I hope you’re feeling better today
,

Love me

Tom, his hand shaking, passed the card to Lily, who took it from him; she read the words inside and sat on the end of the bed next to Tom.

‘What’s this all about, Tom? Who is this and why are they calling you daddy? Is this some kind of sick joke?’

‘I don’t know who it is and I wish to God it was a sick joke…this is all my fault. Can you phone Will and see if he knows anything about this? It might be some stupid mocked-up image for my benefit.’

Lily looked at the photograph again. It didn’t look as if it was a joke; it looked like fresh blood on the side of his head and Will wouldn’t agree to anything so twisted when his dad had been so ill.

‘Tom, this looks real… Oh, my God, poor Will. His friend Jake phoned an hour ago to ask if Will was here because he couldn’t find him… What are we going to do?’

Chapter Twelve

Henry was restless. He knew it was getting near to the time to make his move. Megan had let slip yesterday that there was some kind of open day next Wednesday and there were some very special visitors coming to look around. Therefore, it could be the perfect opportunity for him; whichever ward they were visiting would be spruced up until it looked as if the patients were actually happy. He had no doubt it wouldn’t be his ward—who the hell would want to come and shake hands with the likes of Henry and the other sick bastards who were kept prisoners here at Her Majesty’s pleasure? It would cause a public outrage to see some honourable member of the Royal Family chatting away to England’s most depraved and evil killers; they wouldn’t be photographs for the family album to show the grandkids when they were having afternoon tea. He knew that the prisoners on his secure unit would all be locked up and left with minimum staff; they would probably sedate them all, slip an extra Valium or something stronger in with their breakfast meds so no one would cause any trouble.

It would be easier to get Megan to sneak him out when they were so focused on everyone else. She had been getting much more friendly with him, staying longer in his room than any of the others and chatting away. She had told him about some American television show that had a serial killer and an FBI agent played by Kevin Bacon and how this serial killer called Joe something-or-other was the sickest person she’d ever seen on television. Megan had said it was the best television programme she’d ever watched and was addicted to it. This Joe had followers who would do anything for him and she thought it was an amazing idea. It had taken him some time to convince her that it wasn’t real, that it was all played by actors, as convincing as it might be, and she had laughed at him.

‘Henry, do you think I’m stupid? I know it’s not real but it seems like it is and if I could I think I would jump at the chance to be in that cult.’

That was the last conversation he’d had with her and it had set Henry’s mind wondering about just what exactly made his nurse Megan’s mind tick.

***

Megan sat at the tiny breakfast bar in her flat, glued to her Kindle as she nibbled on her toast and jam. She was engrossed in a book called
Deadly Obsession
, which was all about her favourite patient – Henry Smith. From the very beginning there had been something about Henry that she had found very attractive. He was much older than her but he was always so kind. She was well aware of how violent he was, a deadly killer, from what the author of the book had written. It was so exciting reading about him and what he’d done and then to go and actually speak to him in person. Of course she knew he was lying to her about feeling guilty for what he’d done because she didn’t believe for one minute that he did. He was very good at it, though, and totally convincing; he was so charming to her and such a good listener. He liked his radio and to read books all day. Through her training as a mental health nurse, she knew he displayed many of the traits of a psychopath but this only made him even more attractive to her because Megan shared many of the same traits. She smiled at the thought of Henry thinking she was all sweet and innocent. He had bought her story about being an abused girlfriend when, in reality, Megan hadn’t had a boyfriend for six months.

She looked at the clock above the cooker and closed the cover on her Kindle, slipping it into her handbag so she could read it on her lunch break. She ran to the bedroom to get her phone off her bedside table and took one last look at her wall, filled with newspaper articles all about Henry Smith. She knew him as well as she knew herself. He would never admit it to her, but she knew that the thing that was keeping him going was the thought of finally exacting his revenge on Annie Graham. Megan wanted so badly to be there when he did, watching from the sidelines. She left the flat and got into her car for the short drive to work, excited to be seeing Henry again.

The key turned in the lock and he smiled to himself. She was always so punctual and he admired that in anyone. He smelt her perfume before she stepped through the door, something so floral but fruity and he liked it. She came in with his tablets.

‘Morning, Henry, did you miss me?’

‘I did, Megan. The days go by so slowly, but without seeing you they drag even more. I hope you have some good news to tell me.’

‘Aw, you’re such a sweetie; at least someone misses me. Yes, I do.’

She handed over the plastic cup filled with his assortment of tablets and he took it from her, his fingers brushing against hers, and he felt a thrill run through his whole body. It was hard to contain the shiver that ran down his spine. Megan pulled away from his touch as if she’d been burnt and he smiled.

‘Well, then, are you going to put me out of my misery? Please.’

‘I told him to pack his stuff and leave last night. I kept thinking about what you said to me the other day and I decided that you were right. There’s no point keeping on with a relationship just because you don’t like being on your own.’

Henry feigned taking his tablets whilst she was picking at her chipped nails.

‘And how do you feel about that now; do you regret telling him it’s over?’

‘At first I was terrified, my voice was shaking, but then, as I watched him pack his things and leave without so much as a “please don’t say it’s over, baby”, I realised I was doing the right thing. He didn’t even look bothered, just shrugged his shoulders and left. I mean, I would have hated it if he’d broken down and cried but it would have been nice to know he was the slightest bit bothered. You were right; he was just freeloading and he was a total waste of space.’

Henry suppressed the huge grin which threatened to break out; he loved it when he was right. ‘I’m glad that you’re not heartbroken too much. You are a wonderful girl and the right person is out there for you, I’m positive of it. You will know him when you meet him and then you’ll realise what love is.’

He reached out and patted her hand. He expected her to pull away from him but she didn’t and he smiled.

‘Do you think so, Henry? I really don’t like being on my own. I suppose I should be thankful I have a job to come to and you to talk to, otherwise I might go crazy and end up in the women’s ward.’

‘So have you heard anything else about our special visitors next week? Will they be coming on this ward to meet a group of murderous freaks or will they get taken to the women’s ward, where they can make polite conversation with the patients on there, who are much nicer and a lot less scary than us killers?’

Megan threw back her head and laughed. ‘You know they won’t want to shake hands with you lot unless it’s some bunch of European do-gooders who don’t care about anything but fighting for some cause. Don’t tell anyone this but I heard them saying at handover they are going to sedate everyone on this ward and leave me and Julie in charge while they go and talk to all the nice important people. Should we have a party up here, Henry? If they do, you could actually come out of your room for a bit if the freaks are all off their heads; it would be nice for you to spend some time out of here.’

‘Now, that sounds wonderful, but surely I’ll be just as doped up as the others? I won’t be in a fit state to have a grand old tour of the television or craft room.’

‘Not if you don’t take the tablets, you won’t. Just make sure whoever gives you the medication that morning doesn’t see you slipping them down the side of your chair. I know you do it sometimes but I don’t give a shit; I wouldn’t want to fill my body with crap I had no idea what the side-effects were either so I don’t blame you.’

Henry nodded. So sweet innocent Megan wasn’t fooled by him. Maybe she wasn’t so sweet and innocent after all.

‘Ah, you know about that. Why haven’t you told nurse bossy boots? After all, it’s against ward policy for a patient not to take their prescribed medication, yet you know that I don’t and haven’t said anything to anyone.’

‘Because, Henry, I like you, I can talk to you. You don’t want to rape me and I hope you don’t want to kill me like the others would if they were given the chance. I feel sorry for you and I don’t think you belong here, cooped up in this room, day in, day out. I just want to make you happy.’