But there is a desperation in his tone that says he is trying to convince himself of this as much as convince them. He is scared. He is beginning to worry that the girl he raised as a daughter may have killed his biological daughter.
Storm is aware that the questions he and Leo must ask will inevitably sow seeds of doubt in their minds that will taint the Garretts’ relationship with India if she is found, with each other, and with their family and friends. Even now the Garretts must be heartbroken that when they go home they will see I-told-you-so in the eyes of people they regard as friends.
“Were there any arguments?” Leo persists.
“No,” says Mr Garrett shortly.
“Yes,” says Mrs Garrett. “Rachel didn't like India’s new boyfriend. She thought they were moving too fast. She said he was a city slicker. She didn’t trust him.”
“And India didn’t like that?” says Storm.
Mrs Garrett nods. “India thought that Rachel was jealous. But she wasn’t. India’s had boyfriends before. Rachel was never jealous.”
“This was different,” says Mr Garrett. “The others were layabouts and good-for-nothings. Charlie works in banking or consultancy or something, India said. He’s going places. He was handsome. India worried that Rachel didn't like that. He’s posh, you know, good family, wealthy background. Not the kind of boys we have back home. She thought Rachel resented her, a werewolf, for getting such a good catch.”
“But it was all in India’s head,” protests Mrs Garrett. “Rachel wasn’t jealous.”
“Was Rachel seeing anyone?” says Leo.
Mrs Garrett shakes her head. “No. But she’s such a beauty, my Rachel. She had so many admirers. She could have had anyone. But she wanted to build her career first. She was always too busy for boys.”
“Their apartment is in Notting Hill,” Storm notes. “Did you help them pay the rent?”
“Oh no,” says Mr Garrett. “Rachel paid for that all by herself. She was so proud of making her own way. Always a high flyer.”
“And India?”
“She was supposed to get a job but she couldn't find anything to suit her,” says Mrs Garrett. “Rachel was worried about it. She said Charlie helped India out a little, but she didn’t approve of India relying on him that way. She said they’d only known each other five minutes. It wasn’t healthy.”
“Has India had boyfriend trouble in the past?” Leo asks. “Any violence?”
“She’s had her pick of them. Every one worse than the last,” says Mrs Garrett. “That’s why she was so happy to catch Charlie.”
“Did you ever meet Charlie?” Storm asks. “Or speak to him on the phone?”
“Never. They’d not been seeing each other long. India was protective of him.”
“Secretive?” asks Storm.
“Yes,” says Mrs Garrett..
“No,” says Mr Garrett at the same time.
“Women who date violent men often repeat the pattern subconsciously,” Storm observes. “Is it possible that Charlie could have been violent even if India never mentioned it?”
“Maybe,” says Mrs Garrett, looking stricken. “India wouldn't have wanted to admit that to us. Maybe that’s why Rachel didn't trust him.”
Chapter 7
DIANA
I am not sure whether I like Shoreditch or not. The area is a concrete jungle. A hive of industrial complexes and entertainment enterprises. Cafés and nightclubs and bars and banks and offices all crammed together. And homes too. Tightly packed communities in cramped old apartment complexes or flashy high rise new builds.
Everything is here. Something for the poor and even more for the rich. The graffiti here is trendy. Considered artwork, it is allowed to stay and doesn't vanish overnight.
I like its energy. I like the hodge podge mix of people, everyone minding their own business and not looking twice at the others, no matter how different they are. City slickers and hipsters and headscarf wearing grandmas. I don’t like the lack of greenery though. There are no parks and open spaces, unlike leafy Notting Hill where I live. Where India and Rachel had chosen to live.
Remi has organized the search like a military operation. Every abandoned building and warehouse is on her list. Every team has been split up with a mix of experienced and inexperienced searchers.
Printed instructions have been given out to ensure every parking space and alleyway and fenced off garden is checked. The back of the sheet contains the names and phone numbers of key Agency and police contacts, just in case someone finds something relevant. Remi had ticked off the ground already covered yesterday and assigned everyone new properties to cover today.
I had stayed with Remi’s team. It had quickly become obvious to me that Remi had high hopes about my psychic skills aiding the search.
She had run the maps past me, the lists of all the properties, the buildings’ names. I’d scrutinized each one, I’d said their names out loud, all to no avail. Remi had driven us around all the likely spots this morning hoping it might spark a vision for me. She had taken me to the original crime scene in case I picked up a trail from there. I had touched Rachel’s blood now dried on the tarmac. I had retraced her last few steps. I had smelled the bin she had been found under.
When none of that had given me a result, Remi had refused to be discouraged.
She and I had joined the search proper, arriving at an old theater complex that had been shut down five years ago due to lack of funding. We had painstakingly searched each floor, each room, every old toilet and broom cupboard and roof-space and overgrown outdoors area.
The team had found nothing. I found nothing.
“How do you even know India is in this area?” I ask.
“We found a car abandoned not far from here. It was completely burned out. But there was a smudge of blood on the pavement near it. India’s. So we know she was injured and bleeding. And the blood contained wolfsbane remnants. We think she was a regular user. Enough to impair her physical abilities. She can’t have gone far.”
“Why would she use wolfsbane outside of full moon?”
“She’s dating a human. Some werewolves use it to tone down their strength to more human levels.”
“I can’t understand why she would want to do that.”
Remi sighs. “Female werewolves almost never date humans. Their pack dynamics simply do not allow it. But in instances where it does happen it isn't uncommon for them to use wolfsbane in that way. Either because their partner insists on it, or because they prefer it themselves.”
“You said she was injured. Do you think it was bad?”
“No way to tell.”
“But the fact she was bleeding means that she was also attacked, right?”
“Not necessarily. The brutality of the attack on Rachel shows her attacker was frenzied and may have injured themselves with the blade also.”
Her attacker. She means that India could have injured herself while attacking Rachel. This bothers me. I turn it over in my mind, wanting to find a flaw in the logic.
We move on to the next building, an empty office building that had formerly been leased to a bank. The tables and chairs and office furniture are all still in here. Posters and signs are still on the walls. A person has even left a framed family portrait on their desk. It gives the place a ghostly feel as if it is haunted by the spirits of everyone who ever worked here.
We had started today’s search at 6:00 am, an hour after sunrise. It is now the afternoon. Sunset is due at 9:18 pm, and as we are searching unlit outdoors spaces and some abandoned buildings that have been disconnected from the power grid, the search is due to end when it gets dark. For safety reasons Remi says. Our safety, not India’s.
“Do you think she’s here somewhere imprisoned, or do you think she’s here injured and hiding?” I ask Remi.
“I’m more interested in what you think. Do you get a sense of which it is?”
She looks so hopeful that I feel another horrid twinge of guilt.
&nb
sp; Of all of Storm’s team Remi is the one who has always been most encouraging and embracing of the clues my psychic abilities have given us in past cases. How can I possibly tell her they’re gone? That I’m operating blind? I feel like a fraud. I had been hoping that today would spark something but I’ve not had a single twinge or sense of premonition or unexplained compulsion to go a certain way. Nothing at all.
I can’t tell Remi any of this. I don’t doubt her friendship, but nor do I doubt her fierce loyalty to Storm. She will want to tell him.
I can’t afford for Storm to know yet. Not until I know what the problem is and how I can solve it. Because there has to be a way of solving it. In the meantime, what can it hurt for me to join the case? I am as useful as any other pair of eyes surely?
It is hard to persuade myself this is true when Remi had spent half the day driving me around. We should have spent that time searching.
“Do you think India is guilty or innocent?” I ask.
“It doesn’t matter to the search.”
“It does,” I insist. “People’s mind-frames affect their attitude to a search and where they think she might be hiding or hidden. Or maybe they want to be seen to be helping but they don’t really care because they think she is guilty. Or maybe they’re scared of her so they’ll skip all the dark areas or the hard to get to spots.”
My frustration must show in my voice because Remi pats my shoulder. “You’re worried because you’re convinced she didn’t do it,” she observes with some sympathy.
“She can’t have done it. She couldn’t even afford to buy wolfsbane potion for herself but she bought two birthday gifts for Rachel. Expensive ones. She cared about her a lot. I don't think she did this. It matters to me whether you do.”
“It could be either,” Remi says, refusing to be anything other than honest. “I need to keep an open mind.”
We trudge down a stairwell to the next level. We had started at the top of the office building. The stairwell is completely dark, there being no windows here. We use special flashlights to guide the way. They are magical assisted and provide a glow as bright as daylight in a five meter diameter.
Next to the stairwell are some men’s toilets and women’s toilets. We go into the men’s and are greeted by the smell of stale urine and a hint of sewage. Taking opposite ends, we push open each cubicle door to check inside.
“Do you always search like this?” I ask. “It must be impossible in this big city.”
“It’s impractical,” Remi agrees. “Our resources would likely be better utilized elsewhere. But now the press have linked this to the Wolf-Claw Killer case, there’s been pressure from higher ups for us to do a thorough ground search. DI Zael’s boss is particularly insistent. Whether India is a victim or the killer, they want her found.”
“Why didn't Storm push back if he thinks this approach is not going to work?”
“It could work,” says Remi. “Especially now we’ve got you on board.”
That makes me feel awful. I wish I could tell her that right now I am as blind as any non-psychic. I’m no help at all if that’s what she wants from me.
“What if it doesn't?” I persist. “Will Storm order us to stop searching?”
“I don’t know. The Met Police are pushing this search hard. They want to be seen to be doing something. They wanted to lead the search, but Storm insisted the Agency would organize it.”
“He doesn't think much of DI Zael, does he?”
Remi gives a brief chuckle. “You noticed, huh? I’ve had Detective Chief Inspector Sandra Greydon-Reid call me three times already today. Zael’s boss. She wants a result today come hell or high water, she said. Whatever that means.”
Leaving the bathrooms, we work through the various large open-plan office spaces on this level, making sure to check beneath each desk and keep an eye out for any large cupboards or store rooms.
It is 4:00 pm by the time we complete the search of this complex of office buildings. All of the small teams that had been spread across the various buildings and floors gather outside so that Remi can allocate them to the next property.
Remi had called some Agency officers earlier to instruct them to bring refreshments. They arrive with tea and cookies. While these are distributed Remi gives instructions to every pair or trio of volunteers.
A police car pulls up and DI Zael and a police officer emerge from it. Remi gives them an enquiring glance. DI Zael had been leading the search effort in some vacant properties a block away. DI Zael is clearly in a pugnacious mood. He stands beside his car and waves his arm abruptly, motioning to Remi that he wants her to come over and speak to him.
She ignores it. Clearly she thinks he can come to her if he wants to say something.
Remi’s phone rings. She answers it curtly. I can see that DI Zael is also on his phone. Clearly he is ringing her. She hangs up and rolls her eyes. “Apparently he wants a private word,” she says.
I go with her as she walks over to him. He immediately demands to know whether we have found anything.
When Remi tells him we have had no luck he scoffs. “Not even with your psychic here, huh?”
I stiffen, but do not defend myself. I’m beginning to wonder if he is right. Even if my psychic abilities had been working, would they have been of any use in this case? It is beginning to feel like my psychic powers were just a dream. Some trick my mind had played on me. Now that I no longer have them, it is hard to persuade myself that they had ever really been real.
Remi has no such doubts. “Ms Bellona’s help has been invaluable to us on previous cases,” she says. “And I have no doubt they will be in this case.”
It is weird to hear her refer to me as Ms Bellona, as if I am some sort of professional.
“I’m glad that you have no doubts,” Zael huffs. “I’ll believe it when I see it. And I have seen nothing so far. It seems nothing but a hocus pocus distraction to me. I’d say useless if I didn’t think you’d be a snowflake about it.”
“It sounds to me like you’ve said exactly what you wanted to say,” says Remi, deadpan.
“I’m just pointing out that you’ve wasted half the day driving her around and you’ve nothing to show for it,” says DI Zael. “Imagine what the papers will say when they get wind of it.”
“Thank you for your concern,” says Remi in a tone that makes it clear that she is not thankful at all.
DI Zael turns to me. “Neat little trick you’ve got making money out of thin air,” he taunts.
“I’ve not been hired on this case,” I tell him coldly. “I’m here to help India.”
“Got some other psychic tricks up your sleeve, have you?” he demands. “You seem to be having a bad day as far as I can tell.”
Normally I would have given him a lecture on how it works, but right now words escape me. I feel like a fraud, and I feel like he knows it. DI Zael smirks in satisfaction.
Remi is having none of it. An idea seems to occur to her. “Why don’t we gather all the volunteers together at the end of the day?” she says. “And Diana will see if she gets a sense of anything useful off them.”
“What is that going to prove?” scoffs DI Zael. “Is she going to spout some mumbo jumbo magic to see if any of the volunteers have touched on a lead today?” He and his officer turn to each other and laugh.
Remi looks at them coolly. “In cases like this the killers sometimes like to involve themselves with the search parties,” she says. “There may be someone here who knows something. If there is, Diana will know.”
My stomach jolts. Remi gives me a confident smile and it is all I can do to return it. I wish that the earth would open up and swallow me.
I don't say anything to correct her in front of him. She thinks I am going to solve the case for them. She thinks my psychic powers are infallible. How the heck am I supposed to tell her that she couldn’t be more wrong?
Chapter 8
STORM
Even with no surname to go on it had taken Monroe les
s than half an hour to track down the identity of Charles Blair, India Lawrenson’s boyfriend. His social media photos showed a puffed up young man with a shiny bright smile and expensive hair. Locating his current whereabouts had proved somewhat more difficult.
Charles Blair’s online professional information showed that he was a management consultant who is currently working in the cutthroat world of Financial trading. However, his firm had refused to give out the name of his current project or client site.
Monroe had obtained the desired information by managing to contact one of his more readily available friends, a recruitment specialist, who had divulged that Charles’s current project was based at a highly prestigious American bank in Bishopsgate, a road in the city that is home to many top-end banking institutions.
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