by M A Comley
“Come, Noelle, be strong. Lorne will listen with an open mind to what you have to say.”
Lorne turned to look at Carol, thinking for a moment that her friend had finally lost her mind. Then a faint voice spoke close to her ear, almost making her lose the contents of her bowels. With a pounding heart, she slowly twisted her head to look at the spirit—and was shocked to see the faint outline of the girl’s face barely inches from her own. Carol clenched Lorne’s hand, no doubt sensing that she wanted to bolt from the room.
“A hill,” the haunting voice said.
“Where, Noelle? Where is this hill?” Carol asked.
Lorne gathered her wits, stuck a hand in her pocket, and withdrew her notebook and pen.
The spirit’s voice dulled, and a whimper filled the room. “I don’t know,” she said over and over again.
“All right. Forget that for now,” Carol said, smiling.
Lorne sensed that her friend intended to put the spirit at ease once more. In spite of what was taking place, Lorne felt her own fears subside a little. She even discovered she had enough courage to ask the spirit a question of her own. “Can you give us anything else about the area, Noelle? Do you recognise it? Have you ever visited the area prior… to your death?” she added, hating to put the facts so bluntly.
“No. Never visited,” the subdued voice responded.
Carol seemed happy for Lorne to continue asking the questions and remained quiet, listening to them interact.
“Who did this, Noelle? Can you tell us anything about him? I take it the culprit was a male?”
“Yes and no.”
Confused, Lorne glanced at Carol, who was urging her on with widened eyes.
“I don’t understand. Can you be more specific?”
After several silent moments, Lorne thought the spirit might have disappeared, but then she saw the girl had shifted and seemed to be pacing from one corner to another.
“Yes, male. No, I thought I knew him, but…”
Lorne’s confusion swelled as the spirit’s words drifted off. Do I push for answers? Clearer answers? Or do I sit back and let her talk on her terms, at her own pace? Having never contacted anyone from the other side before, she found the situation difficult. She only hoped that Carol would know if things were going badly and come to her aid if that happened.
The spirit let out a long, shuddering breath. “It’s all confused. I’m riddled with confusion.”
That makes two of us, sweetheart. “I know, but the more you tell us, the quicker you can continue on your journey. Please try, Noelle.”
Carol winked and gave a brief nod, reassuring Lorne.
“All I can tell you is what I see.”
“That’s great. Reveal what you can, Noelle. I’m used to piecing clues together to build a case. Take all the time you need.”
The young woman drifted towards them again and stood alongside Lorne, close to the table. “I see a hill, gravestones, a bridge of sorts, a beautiful tree—the kind I’ve admired for years. The name of the tree escapes me.”
Lorne scribbled down the details in her notebook as Noelle delivered the clues, sometimes fast and frenetic, and at other times, slow and methodical. Nevertheless, Lorne felt relieved that she was getting what she perceived were valuable clues and insights into the case. She guessed she would find out over the coming days just how accurate those clues turned out to be. At least she was beginning to feel more comfortable in the company of the spirit. That in itself helped considerably. She was beginning to learn when to pull back and give the spirit time to recover between questions as the conversation continued.
She proceeded with caution. “That’s brilliant, Noelle. You have provided us with some superb clues. Now, can you dig even deeper? Try and tell me the name of the person…”
“Who murdered me?”
Lorne sighed heavily. “Yes, name the person who took your life.”
“No. That’s the one thing I’m finding impossible to conjure up.” Noelle’s spirit walked away from the table again and back to the corner of the room, where she began to pace.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you,” Lorne said quietly.
“I can’t tell you that.” the spirit replied, her voice strained with emotion.
“Then relax. Don’t search for the name now. Maybe it will come to you in the future. Please don’t worry. You’ve given me enough to be going on with for the moment.” Lorne turned to Carol, her mouth twisting, at a loss what to say next.
Carol took over. “Noelle, I’ve seen this many times before. Please do not blame yourself. You’re too close. Sometimes, life seems way too complicated. You need to stop trying so hard. The answer will come eventually.”
Lorne clicked her fingers. “I know! What if I throw some names at you, people we believe might be connected with the case? Will that help?”
“You can try.” Again Noelle floated back to her position by Lorne’s side, as if eager to help.
“Okay, let’s give this a shot.” She flipped back through her notebook to refresh her mind. Then she had another idea—she would add a few names of her male colleagues to the mix as a kind of test to see how the spirit reacted. “All right the first name is Colin Simms. Does that name have any significance?”
Silence circulated the room as the spirit thought. Finally, Noelle answered, “No, I’m sorry. Try another.”
Lorne looked down at her notebook, but the name she intended to try next wasn’t written on the pages of her book because it belonged to one of her team. “Graham Barlow.”
Again, the name was greeted with silence before Noelle let out a long breath and said, “No. Why can’t I remember?”
Lorne mentally kicked herself for trying to trick the spirit. “Don’t punish yourself, Noelle. What about Gary James?”
Again, the spirit thought in silence. “I recognise the name. Where do I know the name from?” she asked then answered herself, “From the club, right?”
“That’s correct. He lives with his mother. Does that help you place him?” Lorne offered.
“Yes, I remember. He’s a sweet guy. He jumped on the stage to shake my hand once or twice. He wasn’t connected to what happened to me.”
Lorne again tried to pass off one of her colleague’s names, and like before, the spirit denied recognising the person, which came as a relief to Lorne. “Okay, let’s try this one—Chris Dilbert.”
She walked back and forth a few steps. “The name is familiar to me. Can we keep him on standby? I’m not getting the urge to say that he’s definitely the one.”
“Of course, but I have no other suspects.”
“That’s a shame,” Noelle said. “I don’t feel any of those names are any good. Why can’t I be more certain about things?”
Carol cleared her throat to speak, and Lorne nodded. “Give it time. It’s too raw. You’re keen to lock out anything to do with this person. It’s natural—he has stripped you of your life. Be patient, and it will come.”
Obviously exhausted after sharing the information with them, Noelle’s spirit vanished. Lorne and Carol both expelled long breaths and relaxed into their chairs.
“Well, I hadn’t anticipated walking into something like that when I chose to pay you a visit.”
Carol laughed, easing the tension in her taut features. “We’d only just commenced our session five minutes before you arrived. The poor child had been sobbing her heart out. She’s still very traumatised by what took place. It will be difficult for her to transfer to the other side until her murder is resolved.”
“We’re doing our best, Carol, but with little evidence to hand we’re not getting very far. Although, damn, maybe I should have told Noelle this—we located her car today. We’re sure that discovery will help solve this case much quicker.”
“Yes, you should have mentioned it, Lorne.”
“I know. How dumb am I? Don’t answer that. Shit, here’s another dumb thing for you to consider. I even had a rough identity, at le
ast a few characteristics of the man who dumped her car.”
“Oh, Lorne, that would have prompted her memory so much.”
“I’m sorry. In my defence, that was my first real encounter with a spirit. My brain kind of went into meltdown when I saw her in the room.”
“That’s understandable. Hey, now you’ve had this experience, you’ll be more open to the spirits around you, like Pete and your father.”
Lorne’s eyes welled up with tears. “Really? Are you saying that I’ll be able to communicate openly with them in the future?”
“It’s not beyond the realms of possibilities, love. Pete has even helped you out on a few cases since his death, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, he has. You’re right. One question for you in that case?”
Carol chortled. “Here goes. Go on.”
Lorne’s brow furrowed. “Just thinking about what is going on with Noelle and her inability to cross over—why haven’t Dad and Pete done that yet?”
“That’s the confusing part. Some tortured souls remain in the atmosphere to avenge their deaths. They feel trapped, unable to move on. Then there are the spirits who have a great affinity to someone still living and they find it impossible to leave that person.”
“Are you saying that these spirits stick around to act like someone’s guardian angel? To protect their loved ones?”
Carol nodded and placed her hand on top of Lorne’s. “Pete loved you, Lorne. You thought he loved you like a sister, but you couldn’t be more wrong. It was so much more than that.”
A tear trickled down her cheek, and she covered her mouth with her hand to suppress the sob on the edge of escaping.
“Say something. Surely you had an inkling about the depths of his feelings for you?”
Lorne shook her head, momentarily dumbstruck. “I had no idea. I gave that man hell at times. Yes, I loved him, too, but not in the same way I loved Tom or Tony. I always regarded him as my brother, not a possible lover. My God, I hope this doesn’t sour the memory I have of him.”
“You’re being ridiculous! Why should it sour the relationship you once had?”
“Look, Carol, this all might be the most natural thing in the world for you, but I’m still getting used to your ‘wacky’ world. I know you’re not going to take offence at me calling it that because I’ve heard you hint at your world being in the same light on many occasions.”
“You’re right. I have. We’re both tired, and you have a hungry family to get home to. Let’s call it a day now.”
Lorne hugged her friend and planted a kiss on her cool cheek. “Why don’t you come back with me? Spend the night. Hopefully, the spirits will leave you alone to catch up on some sleep if you’re away from here.”
“That’s kind. I think I should be here, though, just in case Noelle feels the urge to reach out with more information. That’s important right now, yes?”
“All right, I’m not happy about your decision, but I know when I’m beaten. Take care and ring me, day or night, if you need to chat about anything. Okay?”
Carol nodded and escorted Lorne to the front door. “I’ll ring you tomorrow if I have any news.”
The second Lorne stepped out into the fresh night air, she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She waved to Carol and drove to the fish-and-chip shop, recapping the weird events she’d just encountered at her friend’s house. She made a mental note to get out a local map when she got home and look up some of the details Noelle had given her. She knew Tony wouldn’t be happy about her working at home, but he would understand once she told him what had occurred at Carol’s house.
With her tummy rumbling due to the smell of battered cod and chips filling the car, she arrived at the house at the same time Tony pulled up into the drive.
He greeted her with a pensive look and a peck on the cheek. “Good day?”
“So-so. What about you? I’m guessing it wasn’t too hot being trapped in a car all day, spying through a set of binoculars,” she teased as they walked into the kitchen.
Charlie grabbed the wrapped food and tore open the paper. “I’m starving with a capital S. Have you smothered them in vinegar?”
“Yes, Charlie, I have. Did you warm up the plates?” Lorne asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“Oops, I forgot. I’m okay, I’ll eat mine out of the paper. Can I go upstairs?”
“If you must. I need to have a chat with Tony anyway.”
Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “Sounds intriguing. Maybe I’ll stick around and eavesdrop for a while.”
“And maybe you won’t. Go!” Lorne turned Charlie by the shoulders and gently shoved her towards the hallway.
“Charlie’s right. Consider my interest piqued.”
“Let’s eat first before my stomach really starts objecting. I’m warning you now that I might need to work after dinner. I’m sure you’ll understand why when I tell you what took place tonight.”
“Hey, no problem. Can I help at all? I need to keep my brain active before it seizes up. Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a snooping PI.”
“Nonsense, you’re bound to have these kinds of cases crop up now and again. Come on, let’s eat.”
They took their fish and chips, still in the paper, and settled onto the couch. In between mouthfuls, Lorne relayed her experience.
“Seriously? Not sure I would have been as understanding as you in similar circumstances.” He shuddered. “So, what do you intend doing after we’ve eaten then?”
“Well, Noelle mentioned a few things relating to where she’s buried. That’s what Carol and I are presuming anyway. I want to study a map of the area where her car was found to see if I can recognise a possible burial site.”
“I see. That makes sense,” Tony replied with a light smile.
“Do you want to tell me what went on with your day?”
“It was crap. This woman is no more having an affair than I am.”
“How strange. Surely you’ve got to tell your client that, haven’t you?”
Tony stifled a yawn. “See? Just thinking about my case bores me rigid. Joe and I have both told our client that he’s totally wrong about his wife. He just won’t listen. I’m not sure how long we can keep taking the fool’s money. I don’t think we’re ever going to satisfy him.”
“You’re going to have to get your point across more succinctly then. Have you given him photographic evidence?”
“Of what? Her coming and going into her place of work? Because that’s all it boils down to, really. Yes, she’s left the office briefly. Of course she has. However, in all the time we’ve been following her, we’ve never seen her meet up with another man.”
“Then you’re going to have to speak up and tell him you’re moving on to another case.”
“I know you’re right. I’ll chat to Joe tomorrow, see if he has any ideas how to get out of this mess.” Tony relieved Lorne of her chip paper and took the rubbish into the kitchen. He returned moments later with a can of beer for himself and a glass of wine for Lorne.
“Yikes, not sure I should succumb after last night’s debacle.”
He thrust the glass into her hand. “One glass isn’t going to kill you. Shall I dig out the map?”
“Would you?” She pointed at the drawer in the sideboard. “I think it’s in there.”
Tony found the dog-eared map while Lorne retrieved her notebook from her handbag.
“So, what are we looking for?” Tony asked.
“Let’s see.” She ran her hand down the page and tapped her finger. “It’s a little sketchy… all right, let’s see about this. A hill was the first clue.”
“Okay, well that particular clue by itself isn’t that helpful, considering the landscape of the area. What else have you got?”
“Hmm… gravestones.”
“Interesting. Do you think the spirit was referring to her place of rest? Maybe upon reflection, I could have rephrased that better.”
“I don’t think so. She would
n’t have a gravestone of her own, would she?”
“True enough.”
They searched every inch of the map and discovered thirty or so large graveyards in the London area alone.
“Well, I think we can push that particular clue aside for now. Okay, what about this? A bridge of sorts and a beautiful tree that she couldn’t put a name to.”
“That’s helpful—not. Let’s try and piece all the clues together and see what we can find.” Tony downed half his can of beer and leaned forward for a closer look at the ordinance survey map.
After another half an hour of intense searching, Lorne threw herself back on the sofa. “It’s hopeless. God, if only the spirit would give us the culprit’s name. Now that piece of information would get this case wrapped up in an instant.”
“Is there any reason why she’s unable to do that? Hark at me, getting all frustrated with a spook. The other variety, I mean.” Tony laughed, referring to the nickname the general public call MI5 and MI6 operatives.
“I asked the same question. Apparently, it’s not uncommon for victims, or the spirits of the victims, to block out their aggressor’s name. They don’t want to consider themselves as dead, refuse to believe it in most cases,” Lorne told him sadly.
“I never thought I’d ever hear myself saying that I have empathy with a spirit, but I do.” Tony shook his head then took another sip of beer.
“I know. I feel the same way. I did go through the names of the people we’re regarding as suspects with Noelle, without much success. I thought hearing the names might jolt something in her memory, if spirits have memories. God, I’m so confused dealing with this side of things. I’m more than happy to step back and let Carol take control.”
“Okay, concentrate. We can mark any areas with two or more of the features you say Noelle supplied you with, and perhaps you and your team can visit the sites tomorrow,” Tony suggested.
