by Ryan Casey
Eleven
Brian sat in front of the television watching Hannah’s favourite series, Bloodline, but his mind was elsewhere.
His mind was inside that lift with Elaine Schumer wondering what the fuck had happened in her final moments.
The lounge was dark other than the blue glow of the television, which fried Brian’s tired eyes. Hannah lay on the white leather sofa by his side, leaning onto his chest. On the television, he saw the concerned face of Kyle Chandler peeking between some blinds. Fuck, mate. I know. I fucking know what concern feels like.
“I still can’t believe he didn’t go through with it,” Hannah said.
“Hmm?”
“John Rayburn. I still can’t believe he… Brian? Are you even watching?”
Brian knew he was in trouble then. Hannah would go through that whole patronising procedure of quizzing him on the episode’s plot points. Brian would fail this time, mostly because he hadn’t been watching at all. “Sorry.”
“I wouldn’t have put it on if I knew you weren’t with it.”
“Nothing wrong with you watching it.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
Hannah shook her head. “We don’t get much time together. It’s nice to be able to chat about something like this.”
Brian saw where Hannah was coming from. Free time now they had Sam wasn’t easy to come by. And he did really enjoy this show. He just wasn’t sure he’d be able to focus on it at all after the footage he’d seen earlier that day. “Sorry,” he said. “I just… Tough day at work.”
“You’re stuck in that case of yours, aren’t you?”
“Hmm?”
“The girl in the hotel. It’s bothering you. Isn’t it?”
Brian couldn’t pretend it wasn’t bothering him. He brushed his hand through his hair and leaned forward. Hannah paused Bloodline. “It’s just one of those cases where nothing adds up. Not a thing.”
“From what I heard, the girl had some kind of mental breakdown and accidentally killed herself.”
“‘Accidentally killed herself’. See that’s what’s bothering me. Apparently there’s not enough grounds for suicide. But even if there was, there’s still too many questions unanswered.”
“Like?”
“Like how does a girl weighing 115 pounds and five foot four drag a metal lid across a tank? And why the hell does she even bother?”
“That’s for definite, is it? The lid thing?”
“Well, when we first spoke to the night manager, he said he thought the lid was closed when he found her. But it was dark and he was tired and…” Brian realised just how stupid his was sounding the more he spoke.
Hannah put a hand on Brian’s cheek. “I worry about you, Brian. Don’t let yourself fall into a web of destruction all over again.”
“A web of destruction? Where’d you get that?”
She tutted and climbed off the sofa. “Oh, you know what I mean.”
“There’s a case that seems off to me. I’m a detective. It’s my job to investigate. It’s my job to find that girl some justice.”
“You find your justice in your working hours,” Hannah said. “You don’t bring it home. Not again.”
Brian heard Hannah loud and clear then. And he could sympathise with her. He’d played up in the past when he’d got too deeply involved in cases. He’d made his own life hell, and therefore Hannah’s life hadn’t been all that easy either. “I just need a night to let my mind wind down,” he said. “I’ll be all good again tomorrow. Okay?”
Hannah glared at Brian. She scanned his face with those stunning eyes. “You’ve said that before, Brian. You’ve said it way too many times before. And it’s when you say that, that I start to worry more. Because when you start justifying your absence to yourself and to me, it’s usually when you’re about to go off the edge.”
She walked out of the lounge and left Brian alone in front of the paused television. He looked into Kyle Chandler’s concerned eyes on Bloodline. What would you do, Kyle? What the fuck would you do?
He listened to Hannah’s footsteps disappear up the stairs and he wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to tell her about what he’d done to the chief constable. How one day, no matter how hard he fought, that secret would surface. And when it did, it’d rain hell on his family.
If it didn’t rain hell before that day.
Brian looked over at the remote. It was just out of his reach. So he leaned back and stared up at the ceiling.
He wanted to do the right thing about the chief constable.
But he also wanted to do the right thing by Elaine Schumer.
Something had happened to her. Sure, he wasn’t going on evidence, but he’d been in this job long enough to know when something looked fishy.
He’d keep on looking. But he’d do whatever he could to keep his search for justice outside of this home.
He closed his burning eyes and tried to forget the events of the day.
All he saw was Elaine Schumer kicking and scratching her arms as she stood outside that open lift door…
Twelve
Brian saw the girl walking towards the lift and he knew he had to follow her.
The corridor was dark and grimy. The wallpaper peeled away with every step he took. He felt like he could hear voices muttering around him as he followed Elaine towards that lift, keeping as quiet as he could.
The closer he got to her, he could smell rot building in the air. He could taste it, too, mixed with the dull tang of the drugs that Elaine supposedly chewed on. He saw Elaine get into that lift and he knew he had to follow her. He knew he had to see what she’d seen.
He got to the front of the lift and he saw Elaine standing in there. She looked past him, right through him. She looked terrified of something.
Brian scanned the corridor. His vision was blurry, pixelated, like it had been recorded.
“I just don’t know where to go,” Elaine muttered. “I don’t know where to go or what to do.”
Brian looked around and saw her at the back of the lift. She was tugging at her hair, ripping pieces of it out. Then she moved onto her elbows and started scratching them. She dug her nails in so hard that blood trickled out.
There was a bang, then. A door slammed somewhere to Brian’s left.
He turned around and saw the dark opening up towards the roof.
He tried to peek up there. He didn’t want to go towards it because he was afraid of what he might find. It felt like nothing but pure darkness was waiting up there for him.
Elaine was by his side now. She looked panicked. Terrified.
“I can’t go. I can’t go.”
“Don’t,” Brian said. He reached out a hand, but it just vanished into her skin.
“I can’t go but I have to. I have to.”
“No, wait!”
He watched Elaine walk towards that open door. He ran after her, but his movement was sluggish. It felt like he had slabs of iron chained around his ankles.
“Elaine, wait.”
She stopped then. Looked around, like she’d heard him.
Then she turned her focus back to that open door and made her way through it.
Brian’s heart pounded. Sweat crept down his forearms. He pushed through the sluggishness in his ankles and powered on towards that open door. He knew someone was with Elaine. Someone was leading her up to the roof and he had to see who.
When he reached the door, he saw it was shut.
“Fuck.”
He smacked in a key code, but the door refused entry. He tried again, but this one didn’t work either. He felt like he knew that code. He felt like he’d heard it before.
Then it clicked.
The numbers turned to letters.
He knew what he had to type from those letters.
I K I L L E D J E R R Y M A T T H E W S.
The light flashed green, and the door clicked open.
Elaine was at the top of the stai
rs staring out into the night sky. Someone was beside her.
“Elaine!”
Brian pushed up those stairs, but the iron weights grew heavier around his ankles. He felt like he was wading through thick tar. Elaine would be on top of the water tank soon. He’d miss seeing who killed her. He’d miss discovering the truth.
He moved towards that final door but he saw it closing. He pressed on harder. He could make his way through it. He could hold on to that door before it closed. He wouldn’t have to type the truth again…
The door slammed shut.
The letters blinked out.
I K I L L E D J E R R Y M A T T H E W S.
Brian didn’t want to accept he’d done it. He felt like he was giving away his secret. But he could hear Elaine’s footsteps clambering up a ladder, making her way to that water tank.
He punched in the keys, holding his breath.
The door opened up.
Brian stepped out onto the roof. It was cool outside, far too cool for May. He could see his breath. The streets below were silent.
He looked around and he saw Elaine standing on top of the water tank.
She stared down into the water. Looked into it like it was an inviting pool.
“Elaine, please!” Brian called.
She looked around. There was fear in her eyes.
Then she slipped.
Fell down into the water.
“No!”
Brian rushed up the ladder. He fought his way up it, but the steps grew further and further apart every time he reached for them. When he got higher, the top of the water tank just got further away. He had to keep on going. He had to keep on pushing. Elaine deserved justice.
He got to the top of the water tank and he saw a body floating in the water.
It wasn’t Elaine.
It was the grinning face of the chief constable.
He lunged up for Brian and dragged him down.
Brian pushed back. He pressed the chief constable’s bald head as he laughed and thrashed around in the water.
“The truth will come out!” Jerry said. “The truth always comes out!”
Brian pushed Jerry further into the water. He pressed him down with all his strength. He heard him gargling. Felt his struggling grow greater. He wanted to let go, but he couldn’t. If he didn’t, then worse things might happen to him. To his family.
Jerry Matthews struggled some more. He gargled a scream under the murky water.
And then his body went totally still.
Brian gasped. Sweat and tears rolled down his face.
When he looked down at the chief’s body, he realised it wasn’t the chief at all.
It was Elaine.
Her eyes were open wide.
She grabbed Brian’s wrist with her decomposing hand and pulled him down into the—
Brian snorted and lunged forward.
He was in his lounge. It was still pretty dark, but getting lighter, and he could hear the birdsong. Bloodline was on the television screen. Fuck. He must’ve slept down here.
He leaned forward, his teeth furry, and rested his sweaty hands. His heart raced. Just a dream. That’s all it was. Just a…
He felt the vibration against his leg and realised what’d woken him after all.
He looked at the number and didn’t recognise it. It was six a.m. Too early for work. Who could it be?
“Hello?” Shit, he sounded even groggier than he felt.
A pause. Then, “Is that Detective Inspector McDone?”
“Speaking,” Brian said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “But I’m not at my desk right now, so if you wanna call me back at—”
“My name’s Patricia. Patricia Atkins. I’m a long-term guest at Baker’s Inn.”
Brian opened his eyes and leaned forward. “Patricia. How can I help?”
“I saw the note pushed through my door to get in touch with you personally if any of us know anything… strange. I was out all day when you pushed it through. I got the shock of my life when I saw the news. But I have something for you.”
Brian looked over his shoulder. He’d technically broken procedure by posting notes asking the long-term guests of Baker’s Inn to contact him directly if they had anything. But hell, he was the one taking this whole thing the most seriously. “What’ve you got?”
“I spoke with Elaine Schumer on the night she disappeared. But not just that. I spoke to her many times before that, too.”
Brian frowned. “What do you mean? Elaine only checked in on May 24th.”
“Maybe so,” Patricia said. “But it wasn’t the first time Elaine Schumer checked into Baker’s Inn.”
Thirteen
Seven a.m. was far too early a start for Brian.
And it was definitely far, far too early to be trapped in a shithole like Baker’s Inn.
He sat on the wooden desk chair inside Patricia’s room. Her room was on the top floor, just like Elaine’s, but it was at the far end of the corridor so chances they’d bumped into one another weren’t exactly sky high. Not to mention that Brian barely ever saw anyone interacting in the corridor, although that could be something to do with the lack of guests here at the moment.
Inside, the room was much like Elaine’s, only there was more personality to Patricia’s, probably something that came with her being a more permanent resident. There were photographs of family and friends. Snaps taken up mountains. There was an expensive looking gold Macbook sitting on the desk, which made Brian wonder why Patricia was staying in such a dive if she could afford one of those. The curtains looking out onto the concrete courtyard in the middle of the building were closed. The air had a smell of strong perfume to it, which made Brian cough.
“Hay fever?” Patricia asked.
Brian smiled. “Something like that.”
She handed Brian a bottle of mineral water from a pile of them sitting beside her bed. “Always gets me at this time of year, too. Drinking water always helps.”
Brian didn’t open the water bottle, as thirsty as he was. He knew it wouldn’t be contaminated, but the thought of drinking anything that’d been inside the walls of this place was stomach-wrenching. “Right.”
“Anyway. What is it you want to know from me?”
Patricia Atkins was a short, slim woman in her mid-fifties. She had thick rimmed glasses on her nose and wore a flowery top that was somewhere between loungewear and thin dressing gown. Although she was a similar age to Brian, she seemed older than him. Maybe that’s just what happened now. Maybe everyone of that age didn’t really feel as old as they actually were. “Why don’t you start with the first time you met Elaine?”
Patricia nodded, a permanent smile etched on her face. “Polite girl, she was. We bumped into one another by accident in the lift and just kind of clicked. She said she was taking a break from the real world for a few days. I kind of admired that in her. A girl of her age choosing to take some downtime. It’s certainly something a lot of young women could learn from, what with all the pressures they face today.”
Brian nodded. “When was this?”
“Oh, around three months ago, I’d say.”
“And what did you talk about?”
“Just general chit chat. She was so pleasant. I asked her about her life, her plans.”
“And did she have any?”
“Of course. Every girl has plans, Detective. She said she’d done some travelling already, but her next trip was going to be a long one. Australia, or somewhere like that. I told her I’d visited the outback on a retreat in the eighties. She seemed interested. Then that was that. I didn’t see her again. Not for around a month.”
“A month after you first saw her?”
Patricia nodded. “Same scenario. Bumped into one another in the lift.”
“And how was she then?”
“Honestly? She was still cheery, still so pleasant. The biggest smile stretched across her face when she saw me. But I don’t know. There was something… off about her. Like she was
tired. She looked more edgy. Shaky. She soon broke free of that hard shell when we got chatting about her travel plans again.”
“And what happened after the lift?”
“The same thing that happened the first time. She went to her room, I went to mine, and that was that. Until May 24th.”
Brian’s stomach turned. “The night Elaine died.”
“Different setup this time. I was having some issues with my shower so I was heading down to reception. I saw Elaine standing outside the lift. She looked… she looked scared about something.”
Brian flashed back to the moment in the footage where Elaine spun around like she was shocked. “What did she say?”
“She didn’t say a word. I asked her how she was doing but she just glared at me. I didn’t pry, anyway. I could tell she was in some kind of state. She was so shaky. So… untidy.”
“Would you say it looked like she was having some kind of psychotic meltdown?”
Patricia narrowed her eyes. “I’ve come into contact with people having mental breakdowns in the past. When I first saw Elaine, I thought it was possible she’d taken something. But as I got closer to her, I don’t know. There was something lucid about her stare. Like she was cracking, sure, but she hadn’t completely cracked yet. Like she was afraid of something.”
“Didn’t you ask her?”
Patricia shook her head. She sighed. “I wish I had. Elaine said the lift was faulty, so I went down the stairs to reception. I found it weird because the door was open when I saw her, but it closed when I passed. When I got back, around five minutes later, she was gone.”
“And what time was this?”
Patricia puffed out her lips. “Some time just after one, maybe? I can’t be totally sure. Sorry, Detective.”
Brian thought back to the footage they’d managed to pull from the CCTV. The pieces of the puzzle that the footage didn’t show were starting to click into place, but still the answers were just as blurry. “Do you think it’s possible Elaine made her way up to the roof alone?”
“In my honest opinion? I wouldn’t put it past her. This place is a tip, as you well know. It wouldn’t surprise me if the systems were faulty. But if you’re asking me what I think you’re really asking me… did Elaine kill herself? Well. I—”
