Journeyman

by Heather Atkinson

  “You killed Frederick,” said Alan, addressing his daughter but unable to look at her. “Then you came back here screaming and crying, putting on a show.”

  “No,” said One Eye. “She’s lying. She didn’t kill Frederick.”

  “What?” said Cherie, hope in her eyes.

  One Eye stared back at Helen, who was regarding him with an amused smile. “When she put on that show Frederick was still alive. Finding the body gave her the perfect alibi, Campbell didn’t even consider her a suspect.”

  “Then who?”

  “Simon?” said Luke.

  “It was me,” she replied.

  “Liar,” One Eye hissed at her.

  “Is it true?” said Alan. “Did someone else kill Frederick?”

  She just smiled and folded her arms across her chest, making it clear she wasn’t going to speak again.

  “Why hasn’t Simon come downstairs?” said Raven. “We’ve been making enough noise.”

  “Oh dear,” said Helen. “He must be dead to the world.”

  They all regarded each other uneasily.

  “I’ll go,” sighed Aidan.

  “I’ll come with you,” said Alan.

  They listened in silence to the sound of their footsteps heading upstairs. There was a muffled cry, they assumed from Alan.

  “Oh God,” said Cherie. “He’s dead, isn’t he?” She looked to her daughter, who stared back at her coolly. “What did you do to him?” she yelled.

  Still Helen gave no response, casually examining her nails as if this was all a big bore.

  The two men returned to One Eye’s room. Aidan hardly looked affected while Alan’s skin had turned white.

  “He’s dead,” announced Aidan. “Stabbed through the heart. No sign of a struggle. It looked like it was done while he was sleeping.”

  “Why?” Cherie screamed at Helen. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because he kept looking at her,” said Helen, nodding at Raven.

  “Oh my God, you’ve completely lost your mind,” continued Cherie. “You’re insane.”

  “It’s certainly looking that way,” said One Eye. He was getting no pleasure from this. He’d liked Helen until she’d come into his room brandishing a knife.

  “She shouldn’t be locked in a prison,” said Alan, silent tears running down his face. “She needs a hospital, somewhere they can care for her properly.”

  “Yes,” said Cherie, clutching onto this straw. “That would be much better, she’s not well. It started so suddenly, it has to be some sort of mania…”

  “This is who I am,” yelled Helen, silencing her mother. “It’s not the product of some illness. I killed them because I liked it and because it was so easy and they were so stupid.” She released a high-pitched giggle. “You think this has come on all of a sudden but it hasn’t. It’s been years in the making. You’ve no idea how many times I stood over you both when you were sleeping, considering plunging a knife into your hearts too.”

  This was too much for Cherie who fainted dead away. Luke caught her before she hit the floor, dragged her to the bed and dumped her on it before returning to his position at the door.

  Alan merely stared at his daughter, unable to form any words, reading the truth clearly in her eyes. Saskia rested her hand on his shoulder, which he clung onto.

  The sound of the doorbell echoed through the house.

  “That should be the police,” sighed Alan. “I’ll get it.”

  Once again he left the room, all of them keeping an eye on Helen, who seemed to be growing increasingly twitchy.

  “Simon’s dead because of you,” she hissed at Raven. “If you hadn’t come along he’d be alive now.”

  “No he wouldn’t,” she replied. “You would have found another excuse to kill him you mad cow.”

  Helen threw back her head, eyes bulging before charging at Raven, hands extended. Raven calmly grabbed one of Helen’s arms and twisted it up her back, forcing the shrieking woman to her knees.

  “Shut up or I’ll break your arm,” said Raven, twisting the limb, making her go silent.

  “It’s just your son,” sighed Alan, returning to One Eye’s room with Damon in tow, who reeked of booze.

  “What’s going on here?” frowned Damon, peering into the room. “A cat fight?” he grinned when he saw Raven holding Helen. “Nice one.”

  “Oh shut up boy,” sighed One Eye.

  “What did I say?”

  “Helen’s the killer,” said Aidan.

  Damon chuckled. “You’re joking?” His grin fell when he took in their serious expressions. “You’re not joking.”

  They all shook their heads.

  “What happened?” Alan asked Raven.

  “She tried to attack me,” she replied.

  “Oh,” he said, looking lost and bewildered. “Sorry about that.”

  “No need to apologise.” She looked down at Helen. “You going to behave yourself now?”

  She glared up at her. “Maybe.”

  Raven released Helen but stood sentinel over her as she remained slumped on the floor.

  The doorbell echoed through the house again.

  “Hopefully that’s the police this time,” said Alan.

  “What on earth is going on here?” said Campbell as he strode into the room, regarding Helen on the floor, whose gaze was pure malevolence. He spotted Cherie lying on the bed. “What happened to her?”

  “She fainted,” replied Luke dismissively.

  It was left to One Eye to explain, who handed over the camera and phone. It was a clean phone, given to him by Aidan so he didn’t need to worry about them finding anything incriminating on it.

  “You?” said a stunned Connell, looking at a girl he’d known his entire life. “Why?”

  “Because she’s off her head,” said Damon. “One hundred percent nut job.”

  “Yes, thank you Damon,” sighed One Eye. “Perhaps silence from your direction would be a good idea?”

  “Oh, charming,” he muttered.

  “Simon is…upstairs,” mumbled Alan, grinding the heels of his palms against his eyes.

  “I need to take a look,” said Campbell.

  “Shall I take him up?” said Aidan.

  “Yes, thank you,” said Alan. “I can’t do it again.”

  While Aidan took Campbell upstairs, a troubled Connell took Helen by the elbow. “What have you done Helen?” he said.

  She gazed back at him. “What I wanted to do for so long. It felt so good. You can understand that, can’t you?” she said earnestly, taking his hand and squeezing it.

  Connell gazed back at her incredulously before looking around the room, seeking help, unsure what to say, everyone avoiding his eyes. “Err, I suppose. Don’t worry Helen, it’ll be okay now. Promise.”

  She released a sigh of relief, smoothed back her hair and stood tall and straight. “I’m ready.”

  “Where will you take her?” Alan asked Connell.

  “To the station at Portree. She’ll be processed there then tomorrow we’ll take her to the mainland. I’ll keep you informed. You’ll need to arrange a lawyer for her.”

  “Yes, I will. Is that necessary?” added Alan when Connell snapped the cuffs on Helen.

  “She’s confessed to murdering three people, so I’m afraid so.”

  Aidan and Campbell returned, the latter looking grim. “We need to take your statements but you all look wrung out and we need to secure the prisoner…I mean Helen,” he hastily added, glancing at Alan. “Room seven is now a crime scene but I understand it will be too difficult for you all to find alternative sleeping arrangements for the rest of the night, so you can stay here. However I will need all the keys to room seven and it must remain locked until the scene examiners can get here. No one is to touch it.”

  “I’ll get the keys,” said Alan. “Who’s going to tell Simon’s family?”

  “If you give me the details I’ll do it. As this is a murder inquiry it’ll be best coming from som
eone official.”

  “Oh good. Thank you,” he said with relief. “I’ll fetch you the details.”

  Helen was led out by Connell and Campbell. Cherie was still out for the count on the bed and they all thought it best to leave her there.

  Alan watched the three figures vanish into the night, Helen walking with her head bowed between the two police officers. When they’d gone his shoulders slumped with relief.

  Saskia placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “You want strong drink?”

  “Thank you,” he said, patting her hand. “But I need to be alone right now.”

  “Is okay, I understand,” she said when he looked up at her apologetically.

  “Thank you,” he croaked before slowly tramping upstairs, Saskia watching him go with worried eyes.

  “Well,” said One Eye when he’d vanished upstairs. “I don’t know about the rest of you but I could certainly use a drink.”

  “You read my thoughts,” smiled Damon.

  They all headed into the lounge, leaving Cherie unconscious on One Eye’s bed. Luke poured out the brandies and an iced vodka for Saskia. They sat down together, gazing thoughtfully into their glasses.

  “So Saskia,” said Luke. “From the noises I heard coming from your room I take it you did the deed with Alan?”

  “If you’re asking if we had sex then yes,” she said. “We did.”

  “Such a shame his daughter turned out to be a few scones short of a bakery. He sounded to be having such a nice time too.”

  “He was. I make sure of it. What?” she frowned when he stared at her.

  “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go to bed with you. I can’t decide whether it would be ecstasy or terrifying.”

  “Both,” she said before tossing the vodka down her neck. “I need another,” she announced, getting to her feet.

  “Allow me,” said Luke, taking the glass from her. “You need to conserve your strength. Alan is going to need more succour.”

  “What is succour?”

  “The comfort only you can give.”

  Raven caught One Eye frowning into his glass. “Something wrong?” she asked him.

  “Yes, something is niggling me.”

  “What?”

  “Helen’s lying about killing Frederick. He was still alive when she came here to tell us she’d found him dead.”

  “Why are you so sure?”

  He released a frustrated sigh and shook his head. “I’m not.”

  “Uh-oh, looks like you’re going senile,” commented Damon.

  “He’s still trying to get me put in a care home,” One Eye told Raven with a twinkling smile.

  “Do you want to listen to her confession again?” she asked him.

  “I thought you’d given that to the police?” said Luke.

  “We gave one copy to the police,” said Raven. “The feed was linked to two phones. We thought it sensible to have our own copy.”

  “Clever,” he nodded.

  “I’ll fetch it,” she said, getting to her feet and exiting the room.

  “Why are you so sure she didn’t kill poor old Frederick?” said Luke. “She certainly killed Bess and Simon.”

  “Because they were asleep, they didn’t know what was happening. Frederick was a fit, strong man. Yes he was stabbed in the back but he could have turned around at any moment, a fight could have ensued. Helen is a very cautious woman, she wouldn’t have taken such a risk. Plus there’s something Cherie said just before she left that doesn’t add up with Helen’s own words. I’m certain Frederick was killed by someone else.”

  “Or you were fond of her before you realised she’s a complete lunatic and you don’t want her to be guilty of his murder.”

  “No, there’s more to it,” he said, thinking back to the last time he was in the pub and what Raven’s sharp eyes had spotted. “But…,” he said before trailing off.

  “Pour yourselves another drink,” said Damon when One Eye lapsed into thoughtful silence. “He might be awhile.”

  Raven returned with the second phone and handed it to One Eye.

  “Thank you,” he said, taking it off her.

  One Eye studied the footage, Raven watching over his shoulder. She was rather touched when she saw her adopted father leap up and pin Helen to the door by her neck because he thought she’d hurt her. When Raven patted his shoulder One Eye took her hand, recent events making them feel closer than ever.

  When the footage came to an end he sighed. “Nothing.”

  “Maybe she did kill Frederick?” said Raven. “Or perhaps Simon did before he fetched the police and Helen killed him to silence him?”

  “It wasn’t Simon,” said One Eye. “The boy fainted when he saw my eye without the patch. He wasn’t capable of murder.”

  “It doesn’t make sense though,” said Luke. “Why would Helen kill her accomplice? That type of woman is more likely to use him as a fall guy. By killing Simon she takes all the blame upon herself.”

  “Police,” murmured One Eye. “You said police.”

  “No I didn’t,” said Luke.

  “I told you he’s going senile,” said Damon.

  One Eye ignored the jibe. “I mean you Raven, you said police.”

  “I did,” she replied. “Why, what is it?”

  Phantoms of previous conversation and memories fluttered through One Eye’s mind but he was unable to grasp a single one. “Dammit, I’m not sure.”

  “Want me to call the care home?” grinned Damon, earning a glower from his father.

  “Frederick’s photos,” said One Eye, going rigid in his seat.

  “Shall we burn them?” said Luke with a wicked smile. “Get some payback?”

  “Perhaps there’s something in them that might give us the answer?”

  “The police have cordoned off the room and do you really want to trawl through all those photos? We’d be at it forever. And I’m quite sure if Campbell finds us in there he will finally snap and lock us all up.”

  “He won’t be back tonight.”

  “You never know.”

  “It’s not like you to be so defeatist Luke.”

  “I’m not. I just don’t care. The lunatic has been caught, end of story. After all we’ve been through tonight leave it to the police, let Campbell and his little pet Connell sort it.”

  Raven and One Eye glanced at each other before looking back at Luke. “Connell’s eyes were on me,” said the latter.

  “Christ, he’s really flipped now,” commented Damon.

  “I mean Connell was looking at me when Luke was telling his goat story,” snapped One Eye.

  “Why?”

  “The only other person looking at me while Luke was telling his goat story was Helen. After the announcement I made they were too busy worrying about what I knew.”

  “You think Connell could be involved in these murders?” said Luke. “Interesting.”

  “I think he was the one who killed Frederick. Helen and Simon have their alibis because they found the body and Connell was the one called to the scene by Simon. Connell could have killed Frederick and Helen and Simon were covering for him.”

  “It seems simpler that Simon did it.”

  “I’m telling you that boy couldn’t have hurt a fly.”

  “But he was in on it.”

  “Yes, purely I think because he was terrified of Helen. I mistook his silence for shyness. Now I think he was just too scared to speak around her, probably for fear of upsetting her. Obeying her was far simpler.”

  “I don’t know. It all seems a bit far-fetched.”

  “After your vast life experience Luke is it really so hard to believe?”

  “Why would Connell kill Frederick?”

  “Because he was blackmailing him over something.” His eyes widened. “What if he was the one who killed Bess?”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Would Helen really take the blame for two of his killings
? She’s throwing her entire life away and for what? Plus we know for a fact that she killed Simon.”

  “I think she was responsible for Simon but perhaps not the other two.”

  “I fail to see why.”

  “Helen has an accomplice who she is with right now and who may want to silence her before she spills the beans. At the moment she’s running on adrenaline, enjoying the excitement but in the cold light of day she may have a change of heart and decide to tell the real story.”

  “Shit,” said Raven, leaping to her feet. “Come on Aidan.”

  “I’m right behind you,” said One Eye, limping after them into the hallway where their coats and boots were, pulling them on over their night clothes.

  Saskia joined them too, pulling her long white coat on over her dressing gown and zipping up her boots while Damon and Luke remained in the lounge with their drinks.

  “Come on then,” One Eye told them.

  “Why do you need us?” said Luke. “There’s plenty of you to sort out that pair and I’m all warm and toasty in here.”

  “Me too,” said Damon. “And I’m a bit pissed.”

  “Let’s go,” said Raven, pulling open the door and dashing out into the night.

  CHAPTER 31

  One Eye hurried outside after the others with his crutch, lagging a bit behind because of his ankle. Overhead the ravens swooped and soared, heading towards the village.

  “Go on ahead,” he called to Raven when she glanced back over her shoulder at him. She nodded and sped off, Aidan and Saskia following, vanishing into the night.

  One Eye was forced to slow to a walk, his ankle aching horribly. The fight with Silas had taken its toll. Eventually the pain forced him to stop altogether and he hadn’t even reached the village yet. Never mind, the others would catch up with them soon enough. They were more than capable and didn’t need him.

  With a sigh he sank down onto a bench that was facing out to sea, letting the cool breeze wash over him. “Damn ankle,” he muttered, glaring at the joint. How undignified, sat alone in the dark, sweaty and in pain, unable to go on because of his dodgy ankle. Sometimes it was hard to recall what he’d once been. In his younger days nothing had stopped him. He’d never been ill and had obliterated every enemy who had come after him. He’d been at the peak of his powers but they were fading.