Promised Land Lane

by Brown, Marcus

  “I have no idea, Miss Miller, but the police will want to speak to you after this meeting.”

  “Why me?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Everybody began to talk to one another in hushed tones, then Tony silenced them. “One meeting at a time please, people. I won’t ask you again.”

  “How can somebody vanish into thin air?” one of the group asked him.

  “All I can tell you is the police have searched the premises inside and out, as well as the surrounding areas of Promised Land Lane and Miss Lang is nowhere to be seen. They’ve also searched her home address and tried multiple times to call her, but have been unsuccessful.”

  “Why do the police think something has happened to her?” another of the group asked.

  “They found blood in the rear garden. Her acquaintance was also there, but he’s in no fit state to be interviewed so I’m led to believe.”

  “But, why would Rachel go to that place when she put her on the story?” Gemma, a slightly plain chubby girl asked, pointing at Sandra.

  Ignoring the dig at Sandra, he replied “Your guess is as good as mine, Gemma, but you know what Rachel’s like. She gets an idea into that head of hers and not even the Devil himself could have swayed her.”

  “It doesn’t make sense, Mr Marshall. Rachel gave her the story because her sister supposedly went missing there,” Gemma said, now close to tears. She pointed at Sandra again.

  “For your information yo-yo knickers,” Sandra snapped back as all eyes focused on her. “My sister did go missing there, many years ago.”

  “Now, now, ladies,” Tony hastily interrupted. “This isn’t the time for a free for all. I know we’re all on edge, but let’s keep it professional, shall we?”

  “But…” Gemma interrupted.

  “As I’ve said, Gemma. This is not the time.” Tony’s tone didn’t falter, but they all knew he meant business.

  Gemma instantly backed down and covered her eyes with a tissue and began to sob quietly.

  “Is there anything you can tell us, Sandra?” Tony asked, ignoring Gemma.

  “Rachel called me early yesterday evening, but I diverted her to voicemail as I was too busy to talk to her. When I had a chance to listen, she said she’d gone to the lane. I tried to call her back, but I got no answer. I left her a voicemail, but I never heard anything back. That’s all I know,” she lied.

  “That’s fine and I’m sorry to have asked you. Look everyone, unless she walks back in here and tells us this was some sort of elaborate hoax to drum up publicity, we have to assume that the police are correct and she’s met a sticky end at the hands of her young man and won’t be coming back.” He sounded blasé and a number of the attendees were shocked. “Until we have absolute confirmation from the police there will be no tributes, no pull-outs, nothing. I’ll be working from Miss Lang’s office to oversee matters until her return or a replacement is appointed, but until then, business as usual kiddies.”

  Whispers shot around the room as they were unable to believe one of their own had disappeared from that spooky old place along the Promised Land Lane.

  Sandra knew Rachel would never again darken the doors at News International UK and a part of her felt she brought it on herself, but nobody deserved to suffer the way she had at the end of her life.

  She was terrified what the police would find down the well, if anything. Deep down, she knew they would find no trace of Rachel and why, but Sandra tried to force the thought to the back of her mind.

  “Class dismissed,” Tony shouted, bringing Sandra crashing back to the present. “All news is good news, remember that kiddies. A change is as good as a rest as they say, so crack on!” He was obviously trying to motivate his staff by sounding like a clone of his former Editor-in-Chief.

  Sandra hung around until the room had cleared. “You mentioned the police wanted to talk to me?”

  “Yes, so I did. Take a seat, Miss Miller, and I’ll send the gentleman in.” Tony bowed slightly towards Sandra before exiting the room.

  Chapter 31

  A middle-aged man walked into the boardroom clutching a manila file to his broad chest.

  He was a heavy-set man, not quite six foot with short carrot-red hair and milky white skin. His chubby freckled cheeks reminded her of the Cabbage Patch Kid she used to have as a little girl. Or was it Chucky she was thinking of.

  Sandra smiled at him.

  “Sandra Miller, I believe?”

  “Yes, and you are?” She got up from her chair, holding her hand out.

  “I’m Detective Chief Inspector Andrew Hope,” he said, ignoring her hand, but holding his credentials in front of her face. “Just call me Andrew, for the moment.”

  “As you wish, Andrew.” She glanced at his terrible picture. He looked uncomfortable in his own skin and was the last person she imagined would be a Detective Chief Inspector.

  “You’re now aware Rachel Lang disappeared from Promised Land Lane last night and hasn’t been seen since. Blood found at the location has been tested and confirmed as that of Miss Lang.”

  She nodded. “I heard, yes. How can I help?”

  “I believe you were the one working on the story?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Also Rachel’s partner, Dean, was at the property last night, and after speaking to him briefly at the hospital, he is under the assumption you were also at the property.”

  “That’s not true. Rachel left me a voicemail last night saying she was heading there. I did try calling back and left her a message, but didn’t get a reply. That’s when I called the police. I was worried after what happened to the Lee kid. I don’t know why Dean thought I was there - is he ok?”

  “Unfortunately he’s been detained under the Mental Health Act. He’s in no fit state to be questioned and, as I understand it, that won’t happen anytime soon.”

  “That’s terrible.” Sandra hoped he couldn’t hear her heartbeat thudding from across the room – she’d never been a very good liar.

  “Have you ever been to the property?”

  She nodded. “I’m sure you’ve done your homework prior to this meeting,” she said, looking him in the eyes. “And you know my sister went missing from there many years ago and was never found.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Then you’ll also be aware Rachel put me on the story after Ashley Lee was murdered. So, to answer the question you already know the answer to, I have been there recently, just not last night.”

  “I am aware of that, yes. I had a good chat with, Mr Marshall, prior to him informing you and your colleagues of Miss Lang’s disappearance.”

  “So, what do you think happened to Rachel?” Sandra said directly.

  “We’re still investigating at this stage, Miss Miller. But it’s clear we’re dealing with multiple incidents across many years that all lead back to that house. Was, Miss Lang, aware of your history at the property when she put you on the case?”

  “Of course she was. Rachel was a cold-hearted bitch and couldn’t care less about my personal feelings. She assumed because of my history with that place, I’d be more motivated to want to discover the truth. The only thing Rachel was interested in was breaking the story first and selling more copies of the paper.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “No. Nothing. Nothing that makes any sense anyway.”

  “Go on?”

  “Just a load of mumbo jumbo about a murder that happened over a hundred years ago. Lots of people have reported a load of cats and the sound of a child crying—you know, all the stuff we heard in the playground as kids.”

  “And you’re happy about that? Something tells me you’re not the type of person to simply let things go without finding the truth.”

  “Ghosts of my past, detective. I grieved for my sister a long time ago, and I don’t believe we’ll ever find out what truly happened to her. But if there was a way to lay her to rest, for my parents’ sake if nothing else, then of course I�
��d take it.”

  “What about Ashley Lee? Not so much in the past and very much in the present, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, but if you haven’t been able to find who killed him, what makes you think I’d fare any better?”

  “I don’t, I was just asking, that’s all.”

  “I don’t have anything more to tell you, I’m afraid, but I’ll be more than happy to show you my case file – everything I know regarding the lane is in there.”

  He laughed. “That won’t be necessary, Miss Miller. But I’ve been in this job for many years and know when something doesn’t ring true.”

  She shrugged. “I can’t make you believe anything,” She stared directly into his faded green eyes. “But I assure you, there’s nothing I can say that would help you solve any of the cases related to Promised Land Lane.”

  “And why would that be?”

  “Because your superiors would have you sectioned in a heartbeat if you used any of the information I’ve been told since Rachel put me on the story.”

  “Then humour me.” He smiled at her. Chucky it is, she thought to herself.

  “Off the record?”

  “Naturally, Miss Miller.”

  “Very well. Over a hundred years ago a man called David Price lived at number five Promised Land Lane. He vanished under mysterious circumstances.”

  “And what’s that got to do with the crimes I’m investigating?”

  “He’s your murderer!” Sandra was dead-pan in her delivery.

  Andrew shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “I thought you were a serious journalist, not a fiction writer. Do you actually expect me to believe that?”

  “Believe whatever you like, but during my investigations, his name crops up a lot, and if local gossip is to be believed, he walks the lane and picks his victims off as and when it suits him. Now, if you were looking at this story from my perspective, what would you think?”

  “Thank you for your time, Miss Miller. It’s been a pleasure.” Sandra presumed he was being sarcastic and knew he would have arrested her for obstruction of justice if he’d had any tangible evidence linking her to the murders and Rachel’s disappearance.

  “Likewise, Detective.” He headed towards the door, but then backtracked as if he’d forgotten something.

  “Before I go, if you would just indulge me a little.”

  He sat down at the table again and opened the manila file, scattering the contents on the table. “Please have a look, Miss Miller.” He gestured towards the pictures from the file.

  Sandra gathered the photographs together and flicked through them. They were familiar images of the garden from varying angles. One showed a purple high-heeled shoe she recognized immediately. Her stomach churned at the next picture – blood splattered grass. She gulped as he smiled calculatedly at her.

  “Anything look familiar to you?” Andrew asked.

  “Yes, I recognize the shoe. It’s definitely, Rachel’s.”

  “There’s a few more I’d like you to look at, off the record of course.” He pulled his phone from his trouser pocket and after finding what he was looking for, passed the phone to Sandra. “Swipe through those if you’d be so kind.”

  Sandra took the phone from him, swiping as requested. She froze as she came to a picture of the doll house, but told herself to stay calm, even though something about it bothered her. Looking closer, Sandra noticed the doll was missing from its compartment and assumed David had taken it away before the photo was taken.

  “Something about that particular picture bothering you, Miss Miller?”

  “I think it’s creepy, that’s all. You’ve probably heard the stories about the doll house, and seeing it… well I wasn’t expecting to see it ever again.”

  “You’ve seen it before?”

  “Yes, when I was younger. The night my sister disappeared.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” He gathered the pictures together and smiled at Sandra.

  Standing up and heading for the door, he turned and said, “If you do hear anything that doesn’t involve a ghost, do let me know.” Andrew reached for his phone.

  “You got it,” she said with a wink.

  Chapter 32

  Sandra crossed the open plan office and could see her colleagues staring at her.

  “Have you all had a good look, or do you want a picture?” she shouted. She couldn’t wait to get out of there and headed towards the elevator. The doors opened as she rushed in and pressed the button for the underground car park.

  Pulling out her phone, Sandra realized she had four missed calls from Hilary and pressed the redial button.

  Hilary must have been waiting for the call as it only rang once. “God, you took your time calling me back. I’ve chewed my nails to stumps,” she said frantically.

  Sandra imagined her friend sitting at home a nervous wreck. “Sorry, but there was nothing I could do about it. We were all called into a meeting with Tony then some detective turned up to talk to me.”

  “Shit, I knew this would happen. What did you tell him?”

  “I didn’t tell him anything. How could I?”

  “It’s been on the news channels all morning about Rachel. What happened?”

  “What are they saying on the news?”

  “They said they received a tip-off that she was there, but didn’t give a name. They’re blaming that guy she was sleeping with, saying they believe she met with foul play. But they haven’t been able to verify anything. His face is all over the news and they’re portraying her as a modern-day Snow White taken in by a younger con man.”

  “More like Cruella de Vil.” Sandra regretted the harsh criticism. “It had nothing to do with him. If anything, he’s the innocent victim in all this.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I called the police after I left you, but they weren’t interested. I went there, but I was too late. She’d already looked at the doll.”

  “Oh, you’re not going to start that crap again, are you?”

  “How long have you known me?” Sandra asked.

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “A lot. When have you ever known me to lie to you?”

  “You never have, but I feel there’s something you’re hiding from me.”

  “I’m not hiding anything from you. You know me better than that. I’m trying to keep you safe, and I’m telling you the truth. Rachel won’t be coming back. That thing got her and she didn’t stand a chance. I couldn’t even tell the police I was there because they’d think I did something.”

  “I don’t know what to think about any of this. If what you say is true, how did pretty boy get away?” Hilary queried.

  Sandra knew Hilary didn’t believe anything supernatural was happening at the lane. “Dean didn’t look at the doll, but he saw her and that’s why he’s locked away in the funny farm.”

  “Fuck, Sand,” she said shaking her head. “This is some freaky shit. Tim had a proper hissy fit this morning when he watched the news and actually told me I wasn’t to see you anymore.”

  There was a momentary pause before both burst out laughing. The thought that Tim could issue such an ultimatum, and come between them was hysterical.

  “What did you say to him?” she said trying to stop the laughter.

  “I told him to go and take his face for a shit,” she snorted, “which went down like a lead balloon.”

  Sandra burst out laughing again. “Sorry, but I can just picture his face.”

  “I don’t think he’ll dare issue that particular order again.”

  “Don’t be too hard on him.” Sandra felt sorry for Tim. “You can’t blame him really. He’s madly in love with you and he’s never really liked me. He just doesn’t want you mixed up in all this.”

  “Whether Tim likes you or not, he’s no longer under any illusions. I told him clearly that I’d divorce him before I lost my friendship with you. And whilst I don’t know what to make of all this craziness, I’ll alway
s look out for you, and you’ll always come first in my life.”

  “Oh, Hils, it won’t come to that.”

  “Probably not, give him a few days to get over his wounded pride and he’ll realise that this particular Brown Owl rules our roost.”

  “Twit Twoo.”

  “Ha bloody ha,” Hilary responded, bursting out laughing. “I love you, you daft cow.”

  “And I love you too, your Ladyship. I’m just heading home,” Sandra lied. “I didn’t sleep too well last night so I’m gonna try and get a few hours. I’ll call you when I wake.”

  Chapter 33

  Sandra glanced about the garden. Even in its overgrown state, it looked beautiful. There were certainly worse places to be bound to.

  She heard David before seeing him.

  “It’s too dangerous for you to be here,” he said as she walked across the garden towards him. “Although it’s nice to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you too, but I had to know what happened after I left.” Sandra smiled and reached for his hand.

  “The police came and found the young man in the grass over there.” David nodded towards the well. “I hid when they came so can’t tell you anything else.” He held her hand gently and smiled back.

  “I was interviewed earlier on by a Chief Inspector Hope. I didn’t tell him anything, but he knows I’m involved and showed me pictures of the garden. They found Rachel’s shoe, and blood.”

  “Naturally,” David replied.

  “They took pictures of the doll house, but the doll wasn’t there. Did you take it?”

  “Yes, I had no choice. Had any of them looked at the doll last night, nothing would have stopped Maisie from coming for them. There were too many of them and I couldn’t have protected them all. I had to take the doll away.”

  “Where is it now?”

  “I took the doll deep into the cavern hoping nobody would find it, but now I have no choice… other than to return it. She’s even more restless now it’s down there with her. Maisie doesn’t like to be close to it. She never has.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll have to move it sooner or later. I’m scared more people will return.”