by Helen Phifer
‘I think that she knew I was scared of vampires, just like she knew that Mary had been reading Frankenstein and it was scaring her – so somehow she turned into Frankenstein’s monster and ripped her to pieces. I also know that Edith and Mary had recently been into town to the picture house and watched The Mummy. They came home and Mary thought it was highly amusing that Edith was scared by a dead man wrapped in bandages. I haven’t been to the picture house with them, but I did read Bram Stoker’s Dracula a long time ago and I’m not afraid to say that it scared me beyond belief. I have no comprehension how she could do this. I think she somehow knows what our worst fears are. She played on them and turned them against us. What I don’t know is why. Why would she pick on three nuns who live out in the middle of nowhere and keep to ourselves?’
‘I think I can answer that, Agnes,’ Father Patrick said. ‘It was for that exact reason. Three women, living in this huge house in the middle of nowhere – it’s a perfect hunting ground for a force of darkness. You are easy pickings for her. If this is true, she is playing with you and I’m afraid that she hasn’t finished playing with you yet.’
‘Why do you say that, Father?’ But Crosby seemed to know the answer before he’d asked the question.
‘Because, Agnes, you’re still alive. I think that she’ll be back tonight to finish what she started.’
‘Well in that case we better be ready and waiting for her. Wouldn’t you agree?’
Agnes, who had been feeling sick all morning, felt a calmness spread over her entire body. She played with the crucifix around her neck and thanked God for sending her a sign that she was strong enough to do this.
‘What are we going to do? Wouldn’t it be better to leave this house, board it up and move somewhere else?’
‘No, Father, I don’t believe that it would. If we were to leave it wouldn’t make any difference. She isn’t here now. The police have searched it from top to bottom. If I left I think she’d follow me wherever I went. It’s far better to face her here, and besides this is my home. It has been for over twenty years and I love it here. I will not be chased out of my home by some evil, demonic entity that thinks it has the right to come into a house of God and kill his children. I would rather die fighting than run away.’
‘Those are very strong words, Agnes, but how do we fight something like that?’
‘How do we fight evil, Crosby? By asking God to help us in our hour of need. If we are prepared then we can fight her, it, whatever. With God’s help we should be able to send her back to wherever she’s come from. Isn’t that right, Father?’
‘Yes, yes we should.’
***
Crosby didn’t want to upset either of them. The good priest didn’t sound quite as enthusiastic about it as Agnes. He’d give it to her she was a feisty woman; he didn’t know what to go back and tell the inspector though. If he started spouting rubbish about the murderer being a woman who was actually a demon that thrived by turning into people’s worst nightmares to kill them, he would not only have him sent to Hellshall but also the nun and the priest. He rubbed his head and wished that today had been his day off work. Why was it him who was up to his neck in it?
Chapter Nine
The police car arrived fifteen minutes after Kate had phoned them. Her stomach was churning. The only experience she’d had with the police had been the night she’d got arrested for drunk driving and they hadn’t been what she’d expected. They had been pretty nice to her considering what she’d done; still the shame of it all filled her with embarrassment. She opened the door to see two policemen, one around her age and one much younger. They both smiled at her and she felt some of her worry melt away.
‘I’m really sorry about this. I didn’t know what to do. One of the builders found it and it looks real, then again you can get some good masks now off the internet so I thought I better leave it to the experts.’
‘Well you did the right thing, although I can’t say I’m an expert on severed, mummified heads. I’m Simon and this youngster is Josh.’
‘I’m Kate and this is Ollie – one of my builders. The lads who found it are outside in the van.’
She led them to the opening in the wall and heard Josh say, ‘Fuck me,’ which made her smile. It was highly inappropriate and she was glad he’d had the same reaction as her, almost. Simon took out a black torch and shone it inside. Standing up, he pulled on some blue rubber gloves.
‘It looks real, but I can’t say for definite. What a thing to find. Most people find family heirlooms.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘What do you think, Josh? Should we bag it up and take it with us or do you think we should call out CSI and CID?’
‘Urgh, I’m not sitting holding that on my knee all the way back to the station.’
‘Good. Glad you’ve been listening to me whilst I’ve been training you. We need to call out one of the detective constables and forensics. If it’s a mask or some kind of joke then we’ll never hear the end of it; however, I’d rather be safe than sorry. If this is really someone’s head then they deserve to be treated with the utmost respect.’
Kate liked the older man. He seemed to know what he was doing and he hadn’t talked down to her once. He walked away from them so he could speak on his radio in private. When he turned back he had a pair of blue gloves in his hand, which he passed to Josh.
‘Put these on, Josh. Kate, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave this area now. Until we know more this is going to be treated as a crime scene.’
‘Should we wait in the kitchen? It’s at the far end of the house.’
‘Well technically we should clear the house but I suppose you can. This place has been empty for years so whoever it is has been in there an awful long time. Once the DS gets here you might have to leave and find somewhere else to stay for the night until the scene has been processed. They’ll be able to tell you more than me. I’m a humble response officer and this is not my field of expertise. Do you have anywhere you can stop?’
She was about to say no when Ollie spoke up, ‘Yes she can stop with me.’
‘That’s great; hopefully they’ll be here soon. It hasn’t been that busy today.’
Kate and Ollie walked back down to the kitchen. She didn’t know what was going on, but she couldn’t stop shivering. She was cold, felt like shit and needed a drink – even though she could still taste the stale whisky in her mouth despite brushing her teeth and mouth-washing several times since she’d got back from the hospital. The painkillers had started to wear off now and her arms were aching where she’d sliced them open. She was a mess; there was no doubt about it.
If she stopped with Ollie she wouldn’t be able to drink. She didn’t want him thinking she was in the state she was in and had no self-control whatsoever. She didn’t want to be in the house on her own either, although at least if she was she could lock herself in her room, turn the heater up, wrap herself in a duvet and feel sorry for herself.
She sat down and Ollie switched the kettle on. He went out of the room and Kate wished that she’d never hired him. She wished that she’d got someone ugly and smelly to come and do the work so her heart wouldn’t break in two every time he left her on her own. He was so kind and caring, the complete opposite of Martin. She knew she had fallen for him big time despite telling herself after Martin she would rather be single. He came back in with the soft, pale pink blanket off her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders.
‘Kate, I don’t know what to say. It’s a complete mess and I’m worried about you. Don’t you think we should tell the police about the footsteps you keep hearing and the crosses – just in case?’
‘No. Definitely not. They’ll think I’m some lunatic. They’re not going to listen to me if I tell them I think the house is haunted. I’m fine, or I’ll be fine. It’s just a bit of a rough patch. God knows I go through them often enough. It will be okay; I’ll be okay. I just feel like crap tonight. I want to go to sleep and not w
ake up until tomorrow afternoon, although that doesn’t look like a possibility.’
‘Well I’ll feel better if you come and stop at my house. I don’t want to say this, but it would be good for you to meet my dad. He, erm, he runs the local AA meetings. He was an alcoholic for thirty years. You would really like him. He gets it and he might be able to help you.’
Kate felt her face burn. The shame was so heavy she thought her head would begin to crush her body. She looked at him. What could she say to that? He was practically telling her to sort her life out. Well she didn’t need him or his bloody dad. She’d got herself into this mess and she would get herself out of it, somehow.
‘My life is none of your business. How dare you stick your nose in? I don’t need advice from him. I’m having a bad day, that’s all.’
‘I’m sorry. I can’t watch you do this to yourself. It breaks my heart. You have so much to live for yet the answer to everything seems to be inside a bottle of alcohol. It will kill you and I can’t watch a perfectly healthy woman do that. You’re throwing your life away.’
Kate stood up and hissed at him, ‘Well then why don’t you go home and mind your own business? I don’t need you telling me what to do. This is my shitty mess, my shitty life, so go back to your perfect life and stop worrying about me. I’m your employer – not your responsibility.’
She walked out of the kitchen feeling so ashamed of herself. Yes she wanted Ollie’s help, but to admit it was like admitting defeat. She’d worked so hard to build the walls around herself over the years of being married to Martin. The hurt he’d caused her had ruined her and she didn’t want anyone else to see what a mess she was. It was pretty obvious Ollie could see through the brave face that she wore like a mask. He could see her for the scared drunk that she was. Realising how ashamed she felt strengthened her resolve to stop drinking for good. She realised that the two policemen who were standing at the front door talking to Jack and Ethan would have heard everything. Fuck me, could my life get any worse?
‘I’ll be in my bedroom. When you need me, knock on the door. I can’t go anywhere tonight. I’ll have to stay here, so you can tell whoever it is that’s coming they’ll have to work around me. I won’t get in the way.’
She walked inside and slammed the door. Her legs were shaking and she only just managed to throw herself onto the bed before they gave way. Rolling herself up in the duvet she began to cry as quietly to herself as possible. She didn’t need anyone. He should have left her last night. Why had he come back and stuck his nose in? If she was dead then none of this would matter.
***
Ollie was so mad at himself he wanted to punch the wall, the door, anything. She was right. None of this was anything to do with him. So now what? He stood clenching the sink so tight his knuckles were white. She didn’t know the details about how he’d watched Ellen die such a horrible, slow death. She didn’t know anything about his life either so they were equal. He was angry with himself for interfering, but she’d almost died last night and looked terrible today.
Then they’d found that monstrosity in the hall and the police were outside, yet he’d decided that it was the right time to patronise her about her drinking when it was the last thing she needed. He turned around and walked past her bedroom door. God he wanted to go in there and hold her, tell her how sorry he was, that he shouldn’t stick his nose in, but he couldn’t. Jake and Ethan were standing staring at him along with the two coppers. It was Ethan who approached him first.
‘We can’t do anything else today, boss, until they’ve finished. Should we go home?’
Ollie nodded. ‘Yes, no point in you hanging around.’
‘Is everything okay, Ollie? You know with…’ Ethan didn’t say her name, but nodded in the direction of her bedroom.
Ollie nodded again. ‘See you both tomorrow.’
They said goodbye and he waited until they’d left then turned to the policemen and rhymed off his contact details in case they wanted him.
‘I’m a bit worried about Kate. She’s not too well. Will there be someone here for a while?’
‘Yes, I would say so. The DI has been called out to come and take a look as well as a doctor. It all depends on whether this is a real head or not. In my opinion it is, but it’s not down to me. There could be officers here for hours yet and they might want to do a search of the house and gardens, although that could probably wait until the morning. It’s not as if it’s just happened.’
‘Good. Could I ask you a favour? When everyone is ready to leave could someone contact me and let me know? It’s just I don’t want her to be on her own at the moment – only I need to go home for a bit. I’m only going to be in your way.’
‘I’ll ask whoever turns up. I can’t promise though because most of the time they can’t remember to tie their own shoelaces, if you get what I mean.’
He winked at Ollie who smiled back, then he walked past them and out to his car. Ollie was tired. After he’d left the hospital last night he couldn’t sleep when he got home. He kept replaying it over and over again. The sight of Kate lying in a pool of blood had really upset him. He didn’t want to lose her although he’d done a pretty good job of pissing her off. He wanted to help her. Maybe when they’d both had some sleep and she was feeling better they could sit down and discuss how they felt about each other.
Before he knew it he was home and parking on his drive. His house looked tiny compared to Kate’s even though it wasn’t. It was a decent-sized detached house with a garage and conservatory, not that he ever used it because that had been Ellen’s favourite room. She had a large, soft leather sofa in there and a bookcase full of books that she would read. God he missed her, but he missed having a life as well. He felt about Kate the way he’d felt about Ellen all those years ago, and if he didn’t know any better he’d say that somewhere along the line Ellen had stepped in, throwing them together. Knowing that he was lonely and Kate needed someone to help her, love her and stand by her.
As he walked through the front door and kicked off his boots, he didn’t bother making something to eat. He went upstairs for a quick shower and then got into bed. Leaving his mobile on full volume in case the police or Kate rang, he thought sleep would never come. It did, hard and fast. Before he knew it he was in a different time. A time where his wife was still alive and in their kitchen cooking dinner. She had coloured her hair and he’d been so glad to see her standing there. He couldn’t remember the exact date that she’d last cooked a meal for him. It had been a couple of years ago. He made some remark and she laughed, turning to look at him.
Only it wasn’t Ellen; it was Kate and he heard Ellen’s voice whisper in his ear: It’s okay, Oliver, she needs you, but you need her even more. I want you to be happy. You should know that there is something very wrong with that house. Evil walks through it when it thinks no one is looking, but the nun will help you to make it all right. The phone he’d tucked under his pillow began to ring, jolting him from his sleep. The dirty, grey light of dawn filtered through the blinds. He had no idea what time it was. After pulling his phone out, he answered it to a voice he didn’t recognise.
‘Mr Nealee?’
‘Yes, speaking.’
‘I’m Detective Constable Dan Sullivan. I’m currently at the house – Kate Parker’s house, I’m not sure what it’s called. One of the officers passed me your details and said to give you a ring when we’ve finished.’
‘Oh that’s good. Have you sorted it out then?’
‘Well not so much sorted it out. We’ve removed the head and it will be taken up to the mortuary. Because it’s so old it’s very doubtful there will be much we can do with it.’
‘Oh, it’s a real one then?’
‘Yes, it’s definitely real and both yourself and Miss Parker will be relieved to know that we actually know whose it is. I don’t have the exact details to hand. There’s a bit of a story to it as it happens. Way back in 1933 when the house was a convent, they found the body of one o
f the nuns upstairs. She was minus a head. I guess for whatever reason it was hidden there. At least we know who she was. We’ve done the basics and taken whatever forensics we can, but it’s so long ago I doubt that the perpetrator is still alive.’
‘Have you told all this to Kate?’
‘I haven’t, my colleague has. I think Miss Parker could do with a friendly face. It’s not every day you find the mummified head of a murder victim from the 1930s in your house. Thank God.’
‘Yes, I’ll be there soon. Thank you for ringing me, I really appreciate it.’
‘Oh just one more thing: this could possibly bring the press to the door. You know what they’re like; if they think there may be a good story they’ll be snooping around.’
‘Thank you, I’ll keep an eye out for them.’
The line went dead and Ollie rubbed his eyes then peered at the clock. It was five a.m. Jesus, he got out of bed. Within five minutes he was dressed and had cleaned his teeth. He didn’t care how angry Kate was with him, he wasn’t leaving her on her own. She was far too vulnerable at the moment. If she wouldn’t let him in he’d sit outside in his van, but he didn’t want to leave her inside that house all alone.
***
Kate watched as the police packed up the last of their stuff and drove away. She shut the door behind them and tried her best not to look into the dark space where the poor woman’s head had been put all those years ago. A violent shiver ran down her spine. It was horrific. This place had been a convent in 1933, with lovely, peaceful nuns living here. So who in their right mind would decapitate an elderly nun and stuff her head behind a secret panel that no one knew about?
How she wished she hadn’t turned on Ollie earlier – the one person in a very long time who had stood by her. He had saved her bloody life for Christ’s sake. He was her only friend and she had thrown him out because he’d offered to help her. The fact that he’d dared to speak the truth to her had filled her with embarrassment. She’d got all defensive – just like she would when Martin used to come in to find her slumped over the chair.
