The Rattler (Rattler Trilogy Book 1)

by P. A. Fielding

  That night the house was filled with ghostly, black shadows, and the evil presence of Hagatha pervaded the air. The next day Charles’s body was found, hanging from the staircase; it bore the same grisly marks as had been found on the other victims. The police used Ellwood’s dismissal as an extra motive for the heinous crimes, and he was arrested the next day at a guest house in Chelsea. Moments before Lockhart and Dryden came to arrest him he was hiding something, carefully wrapped in a cloth, beneath the floorboards in his room.

  6

  Whilst on trial for the Manor Murders, Ellwood was held in a small, cold, damp, square cell, with a tiny bar-covered window high on the wall, opposite a plank of wood, covered by an old grey blanket, which served as his bed. There was no other furniture in the room, apart from an old, rusty, smelly bucket which he had to slop out every morning.

  His barrister, Henry Jones, was a smartly dressed man. He strode into the pungent cell, white wig in hand. “This is not standing up. They have you at each crime scene. You must tell me the truth.” Ellwood despaired. “What hope do I have when my own Defence does not believe me?”

  7

  Later on the same day, the cell door opened noisily; the piercing sound caused Ellwood to cover his ears with his hands. Detectives Lockhart and Dryden entered the cell to find Ellwood, sitting on his bed, swaying back and forth mumbling, “The Rattler, The Rattler.” They approached him purposefully; Lockhart crouched down and stared at Ellwood. “It’s time for redemption, Ellwood. Why did you kill the Mather and Clifford families?”

  “And Charles St Claire...” interrupted Dryden, “was it because you thought you would inherit everything? What did you do with the children?”

  Lockhart slapped Ellwood across the face. “Tell us what you did with them! You scite of a man!” he said angrily, raising his voice. Ellwood continued swaying on his bed, no coherent thoughts in his head, repeating the words, “The Rattler, The Rattler.”

  8

  The former butler was found guilty of the crimes as charged, and was sentenced to be hanged at Newgate Prison, London.

  The night before his execution found Ellwood sitting alone in his cold cell, reflecting on past events. His head had been shaved and he had three small, round-shaped indentations – one on his forehead and one on each of his temples. The man had been convicted as the Manor Murderer, and the authorities, desperate to find the whereabouts of the four missing children, had drugged him and carried out shock treatments.

  It was time. The jailers came for Ellwood at 7 o’clock in the morning. He would not be publicly hanged, as these executions had stopped in 1868. As the procession made its way, slowly, down a long, dark corridor, commonly known as Dead Man’s Walk, Ellwood was held firmly by two burly guards. Two other men brought up the rear – one of them, the prison chaplain, was praying. Suddenly, Ellwood became aware of black shadows dancing on the walls. Then he heard voices.

  We’ll see you soon.

  Not long now.

  I’m waiting for you.

  He started to panic, his head moved violently from side to side. The procession reached the door at the end of Dead Man’s Walk which led into the execution yard. As the door opened, Ellwood could see two wooden posts, standing over a wooden trap door, linked by a beam; a pulley system was connected to a lever next to the trap door.

  Two black-dressed hangmen watched as the group entered the yard. As the time drew near for Ellwood’s execution, his hands and legs were bound, a rope noose was fixed round his neck and a dirty, white cloth placed over his face. His emotions ran high; his heart beat faster and faster, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts; he shit his pants. All he could hear now were prayers from the chaplain. As the clock struck eight, the hangman pulled the lever. Ellwood felt the noose tighten, the prickly rope dug into his neck. All went black and he plunged to his death.

  His body, recovered from the pit below the wooden trap door, was later covered in quicklime and buried in a grave, marked only by the number 152.

  Hagatha had got her revenge. The four missing children were never found, and the painting had disappeared – for the time being – just biding its time to be discovered. With the power of the sun, she would rise again.

  4: Time’s moving forwards

  1

  Friday 26th August 2011, Leeds, England. It’s 10.30 am. Removal men are busy loading boxes into three large trucks. The house was stripped and ready for a new family to move into. The Johnson family were packing up their final few boxes of memories. Jim, the dad, a grey haired man, had finished packing up his black 7-series BMW. He looked at an empty black Range Rover parked behind. He smiled, and opened his driver’s door. Ten year old James was in the front passenger seat, playing on a Nintendo 3DS.

  “Are we going now?”

  “Yes, just waiting for the girls. I’ll be back in a minute,” said Jim, as he entered the house for the final time.

  2

  Zoe, a 19-year old blonde, slim, woman, was sitting on the floor, resting against a wall, in an empty bedroom. She was using Facebook on her iPhone; she typed, A typical August bank holiday, the sun is shining, and the removal trucks are full!

  Mary, an attractive blonde woman, entered the room. “Here you are! Everyone’s waiting outside.”

  Zoe stood up. “I know mum, it’s just...” she said, wistfully. “It’ll be fine. Think of it this way, at least you can stay at home for the remaining two years of Uni,” replied Mary. Zoe walked round the room towards the window. “That was the whole reason why I chose Oxford in the first place, to get away,” she replied. She stood and watched as the removal men closed the truck’s rear doors. Deep down she was sad to be leaving behind happy family memories. Mary walked over to her and hugged her from behind. “I know, but your father had to take this new job offer from Uncle Carl, or face redundancy.”

  Jim entered the room. “Here you are! Come on, everyone is waiting.”

  “OK,” said Mary, “we’ll finish this conversation in the car, Zoe.”

  3

  As they all left the house, Zoe turned and took a photograph using her iPhone before getting into her mother’s Range Rover. Her parents embraced and kissed.

  “I’ll drive slowly,” promised Mary, solemnly.

  “You’d better,” replied Jim.

  The convoy began the long journey towards London. Zoe was in the front passenger seat, listening to her iPhone’s music whilst texting friends. Mary glanced at her husband’s car in the rear view mirror, then at Zoe.

  “Aren’t you happy?”

  “Did you say something, mum?” Zoe un-plugged her earpieces.

  “Just wanted to know if you’re happy, that’s all.”

  Zoe finished writing her text message. “Yes, and no,” she replied whilst looking out of the window.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Well, of course I’ll have extra money in the bank saved from Halls, but I feel I’ve lost my independence again. And I’m certainly not looking forward to the hour’s journey into Oxford every day.”

  “I don’t understand, Zoe, what do you mean? Lost your independence?”

  Zoe removed her trainers and moved her legs closer to her chest. “I moved to Oxford for some space, mum. And to experience adulthood.” Mary massaged Zoe’s right shoulder. “I know how you feel hunnie. But your dad, although, he won’t admit it, missed you last year. He missed your chats and certainly co-op mode on FOD!” Zoe laughed. “We still played together online,” she replied, examining her fingernails. “But it’s not really the same, Zoe. I know he can be a bit embarrassing.”

  “You think? Do you remember what he said to my friend, Cary, last year? You’ve got a lovely tan, been on holiday? He wasn’t even embarrassed when she told him it was her natural colour!”

  “That’s why I married him, he makes me laugh. And regards the extra journey time, you’ll pass your test next time. Just keep thinking of the new Mini Cooper. It’s arriving in eight weeks, so no pressure!”


  “I know mum, and, until then, dad will just have to act as the taxi.” The pair laughed.

  4

  James was playing his 3DS. “What are you playing, son? You’ve not said a word since we left the house.” James quickly glanced at his dad. “Back Alley Fighting online.” Jim was puzzled. “Online? How the heck are you doing that?” James rolled his eyes and pointed to the charging iPhone. “Using your iPhone as a Wi-Fi hotspot.” Jim was certainly impressed. “Bloody hell, son, you kids and technology! Your Aunt Lynn and I had to settle for miniature magnetic car Scrabble, Snakes and Ladders, and Connect Four when I was your age. How things have changed!”

  Jim smiled, proudly. Both of his children were interested in video gaming, and that was something he’d been responsible for. The house was always full of the latest games, straight from the development shelf. Jim often joked that he and Mary dated with Nintendo’s Zelda, and it was Link that had brought them together. They’d met at Leeds University in the late 80’s. Jim went on to work in the area of designing and making video games. Mary took a step back in her own career development, and soon became a modern-day housewife.

  5

  Zoe’s mobile phone beeped; she read the text. “Dad says we’re stopping at the next service station for lunch, but mainly because James is desperate for a piss.”

  “Did he really say piss? More like spend a penny. And, how did he text you?”

  “No, mum,” said Zoe, laughing, “dad’s a safety nut and wouldn’t risk his son’s life typing out a text message – he used Siri.”

  “Him and his iPhone!” replied Mary.

  This car journey was the first time in months that mother and daughter had actually spent a couple of hours together, and Mary was enjoying it. At the start of the summer Zoe went away with her friends to Ibiza for four weeks, and then spent two weeks with friends in Oxford. Mary wasn’t at all prepared when Zoe left home last August. Mary accepted that once Zoe left Uni she would be off – accepting a job in any part of the country. She sighed as she looked lovingly at her daughter, thinking that she would only have her company for another few days as the family would be going on holiday to Florida for a week with Mary’s Aunt Sally – her mother’s sister.

  6

  The two cars pulled up at an M6 service station. The removal vans had carried on to London, where a builder friend of Jim’s had agreed to meet them at the new house. James couldn’t wait – as soon as the car stopped he dashed into the building. “Get me a Whopper with extra cheese, please!” he shouted.

  The rest of the family smiled as they walked into the building. Jim held the door open for his girls, but it soon became apparent that he was acting as a temporary doorman! Mary watched as he held the door open for a number of people – many of whom did not even acknowledge him. It was a typical motorway service station but, because of the bank holiday weekend, the place was packed – children ran around, and parents chased after them. As they walked in, Zoe’s phone beeped. She pressed a button. “Someone’s popular today,” said Mary, smiling fondly at her daughter. “No,” she replied, “just checked into this place on Facebook.”

  They soon joined the Burger King queue and, as James re-joined them, Jim said, “I’ve got a treat planned for us later.”

  “What?” said Zoe and James together.

  “No, you’ll have to be patient,” Jim teased.

  “I’m too impatient for surprises, dad. Just tell me already!” said Zoe.

  “No,” Jim continued, firmly, “all will be revealed in a couple of hours. Right, what’s everyone having? The usual?”

  “Yes, but make mine a large one,” said Zoe, her parents smiled. “What?” Zoe frowned. “It’s nothing, come on, let’s get a table,” Mary replied, taking her by the hand.

  7

  Four large Whoppers later, and they were back in their cars. Zoe was sipping the remains of her Fanta. “So, come on, mum, what’s dad’s big surprise then?” Mary briefly glanced at her. “I really don’t have a clue. I guess you’ll just have to wait.”

  The journey was boring; the skies were becoming overcast, and Zoe pretty soon started to doze off, listening to her iPhone’s playlist. It was true bliss, with only the car’s engine creating a light hum. Mary was deep in thought. She yawned, “I wish you’d hurry up and pass your test. I could do with a little nap myself.” Suddenly, a withheld incoming call message flashed up on the touch screen, and a jazz ringtone played throughout the car.

  “Hello?” she said, tentatively.

  “You’ve been following me for the past two hours, officer. When are you going to pull me over?” replied a male voice. “Jim!” said Mary, exasperatedly, “you frightened the life out of me! I could have had a heart attack!” Jim smiled at his wife through the rear view mirror. “I couldn’t resist. James is asleep, snuggled under his blanket, and I’m bored! Still, we should be there in less than an hour. Zoe alright?”

  “Yes, she’s asleep,” answered Mary. Jim blew her a kiss through his rear view mirror. “Love you,” he said, tiredness creeping into his voice. “My love rebounds to you,” Mary replied.

  8

  Zoe woke up as her iPhone vibrated; she rubbed her eyes.

  “Not there yet?”

  “Nearly. We should be there within the hour.”

  Zoe’s text message was from her best friend, Vana. They had been friends since they started at Primary School together, and now they are both at Oxford, where Zoe is studying computer science and graphic design and Vana reading history. Zoe started typing a reply but stopped. “Is it OK if Vana stays over tonight?”

  “Yes, of course, you don’t need to ask. You know that,” replied Mary. Zoe grinned as she finished her text message.

  5: A long winding road leads to home

  1

  It was almost 6.30 pm when Mary followed her husband’s car into Wyne Tree Square; they had been lucky to beat the rain that threatened to ruin the summer’s evening. They’d had to stop at an M1 service station just outside London for James who needed the loo again, but they were all grateful to stretch their legs. Zoe took James on a shopping spree for sweets and chocolate. They also picked up the latest video games magazines. Mary and Jim enjoyed a quiet coffee.

  The four hour drive had taken its toll on Mary – she looked whacked-out. “At last, we made it,” she sighed, and parked the Range Rover on the drive outside a large red bricked house. She looked up at the building. Number 10 Wyne Tree Square consisted of four floors; the ground floor had a lounge and a dining room at the front, and a kitchen, small study and bathroom at the rear of the house. The first floor had four bedrooms and a bathroom, and the second floor had a further three bedrooms and a bathroom. There was an attic on the top floor, while a basement ran half the length of the ground floor.

  Because the house had been empty, the builder had been able to refit the kitchen and install new appliances, as well as sand, stain and varnish the floors. The rest of the house needed repainting, and Jim planned to start on one of the guest bedrooms the next day in readiness for Aunt Sally’s arrival on Sunday.

  The removal trucks’ doors were wide open, and the men were busily taking box after box into the empty house. They’d been greeted by Jim’s builder friend two hours before. Each box had been marked with its desired destination, and all the new owners needed to do was to un-pack the contents. The large furniture had been placed in the relevant rooms. Zoe glanced at Mary, with a smile, as they watched the removal men at work. Mary and Zoe got out of the car, stiffly, and walked towards the open door, nodding to the removal men as they passed by; they entered the house via the impressive, box-cluttered, dusty, hallway.

  Jim gently tapped James on his shoulder. “Wake up son, we’re here.” James rubbed his eyes, and stretched. “Great!” he said as he got out of the car and ran towards the house. “Where are you going in such a hurry?” asked Jim, as he started to unpack the car. “Exploring!” shouted James over his shoulder as he dashed into the house. He was impress
ed. “This house is huge! Seven bedrooms, and three bathrooms. WOW!”

  2

  As her parents joined the removal men in unpacking, Zoe was exploring the empty second floor, using her iPhone to film as she went. “So, this is my new house, peeps,” she said, slowly panning around the landing. Three doors opened up to large bedrooms, there was a door to the bathroom and a flight of stairs led up to the attic. Zoe entered a bedroom, and walked slowly around, filming as she went. “As you guys can see, it’s a little bit bigger than Leeds.” Suddenly, footsteps running above her head broke her concentration.

  “Shit! What the hell was that?”

  The ceiling shook, causing an old, dusty lampshade to sway gently from side to side. Zoe came out of the room onto the landing, still filming. “Well, guys, we’d better check that out,” she said, cautiously.

  3

  As she neared the stairs, the wooden beams above her head gently groaned. She glanced up at the ceiling. Her heart started to pound. She gripped the handrail, took a couple of deep breaths, and started to venture into the dark towards the attic door, the stairs gently creaking with every step. All of a sudden, the flashlight on her iPhone automatically turned on, making her jump. “Get a grip, girl,” she said, quietly, as she apprehensively climbed the stairs – adrenaline flowed through her body. “Why is it so cold up here? It’s freezing.” She stretched out her left hand, slowly, and turned the round brass doorknob. The door opened noisily.