ON DEVIL'S BRAE (A Psychological Suspense Thriller) (Dark Minds Mystery Suspense)

by Faith Mortimer

  Cassandra guessed by the tone in his voice he thought it was a waste of time, but ought to show willing.

  “Yes, I was about to suggest you did. We’ll go into Miss Potter’s place and check everything is okay there.”

  Angus looked uncomfortable standing on the roadside. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets, and his collar was turned up against the freezing-cold rain. “Would you like me to come with you and Miss Potter, Officer, or should I go home and leave you to your enquiries? I can come back here later, Cassandra, if you’d like me to.” He turned and addressed Cassandra with an apologetic tone in his voice. “There’s something I have to finish off today. It’ll most likely only take me an hour or so.”

  The older policeman paused as he considered Angus’s words. “No need, laddie. We know where you are, and my colleague will call round to take a quick statement from you when he’s finished. Okay with you, Murray?”

  Cassandra turned to Angus and gave him a weak smile. “Yes, please, I’d like that.” She felt torn in two as she watched him walk away. She didn’t really believe he would call back as he said he would. He hadn’t answered her earlier question about Julian’s Porsche, and his silence felt like a death knell. She thought she was going to go crazy if something positive didn’t happen fast. When she and the policeman walked towards Shadow Vale, she wondered what else was ready to shatter her vile day.

  Constable Kerr or acting police sergeant, as he informed Cassandra later, looked into every room and outbuilding of the cottage and found no trace of Julian. He also made Cassandra tramp over her land at the back of the cottage in case Julian was there, although she didn’t think it likely.

  “But I don’t understand,” Cassandra said as she trailed into the cottage behind Kerr. She kicked off her soaking-wet boots and hung her coat over the back of a chair to dry. “I could have sworn Julian brought his bag of clothes in when he arrived. He usually brings a soft bag for personal stuff, and this time he brought a Fortnum and Mason hamper of food too. Look, the hamper’s here in the kitchen. It must prove he was here.” She turned round in triumph, pointing towards the tin of caviar and sealed packets of smoked salmon lying on top of the box.

  “Aye, maybe, but where are his personal things? And did ye no have a drink or a bite to eat before ye left?”

  “Yes, coffee.” She paused as she remembered. “Only I washed the cups up and put them back in the cupboard. But the hamper…surely?”

  “Well now. It disne prove nothing. Food hampers can be sent by post. We can always check with the carriers if necessary.”

  Cassandra hugged her arms around her body and looked around her house in bewilderment. “Julian must have left. I can’t think of any other explanation. But why would he? We were enjoying a walk one minute, then Bailey disappeared, and the next minute—well, a few minutes later—Julian vanished.”

  Acting Police Sergeant Kerr made a few noncommittal noises while he took down a few more notes. He asked Cassandra to write out and sign a statement, adding Julian’s telephone numbers and address for the record. Just as he stood up to leave, there was a sharp knock on the door.

  “I’ve spoken to someone in each of the other houses here, and no one remembers seeing Mr Pope or his car, Sarge,” Constable Murray said as he poked his head inside and gave the cottage a quick once-over. “I’ve also got a statement from Mr Angus McGregor.”

  ***

  After the police left, Cassandra drew the curtains across the windows and bolted the front and back doors. As they were leaving, she got the distinct impression they thought she was barmy and had made the whole thing up. Which was only slightly better than being accused of something underhand, she thought. At one stage she was afraid they were going to blame her for Julian’s disappearance. But that would almost have been better, she mused. At least then they would have accepted Julian had been there that day!

  Cassandra was mystified by Julian’s vanishing act. And what the hell had become of his holdall of clothes? She was certain Julian had fetched it from the car. She spied Bailey’s ball lying on the rug in front of the fireplace. Whatever had happened to her adorable puppy? She saw the fire was almost out and added a couple of hefty logs and a few chunks of coal to the embers. Then, exhausted, mystified and depressed, Cassandra flopped down into a chair and thought back over the day’s events culminating with Angus and his odd reactions. In the course of an afternoon he changed from being attentive and almost loving to distant and sceptical. She was positive that she hadn’t imagined the whole event and that there had been a mysterious stranger: ‘the watcher’, holding a sword—which brought her back to Angus. Cassandra wondered whether the police were curious enough to take a look at Angus’s swords. But so what? It wouldn’t prove anything.

  Cassandra shivered, as much with shock as from the bitter cold. She gave the fire a poke to liven it up and snuggled up closer to it. Within moments, it revived, and large orange flames flickered up the chimney. She wandered over to the window overlooking the front garden and pulling back the curtain, looked out. It was completely dark by now, and a blacker night she couldn’t imagine. The street lamps hardly made any difference with their pale-yellow light. Cassandra was about to let the drape fall when she saw a shadow flit across the grass. She stiffened. She was certain the police closed the gate behind them. Oh my god! What next?

  Cassandra drew back from the window, terrified there was someone trespassing on her property. Should she telephone the police? Would they believe her and come out? She heard a strange noise at her front door, something between a moan and a whine. Oh, dear god, what now? Cassandra’s heart beat extra fast, and she felt her armpits dampen with nervous perspiration. She closed her eyes, willing her rapid pulse to slow down. She felt sick with apprehension. Who was so intent on petrifying her and making her life so miserable? Cassandra took a deep breath before tiptoeing to the door and checking it was locked and the bolts shot fast. Nothing could get in! Looking round, Cassandra wondered if there was anything she could use as a weapon. There was the poker by the fire and a kitchen drawer full of knives. She shuddered. She had taken a self-defence course and learnt karate up to yellow-belt standard, but it was a long time ago. Cassandra knew damn well that if she was up against a madman with a sword, despite being a Black Belt in karate, it wasn’t going to save her.

  She bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling and almost leapt away from the door in fright when there was a sudden scratching. Oh my goodness, she thought. Bailey! It must be Bailey at the door.

  When the scratching came again, followed by a pathetic little whine, she whirled round, threw back the bolts and opened the door.

  The sight which greeted her made her gasp and put both hands to her mouth. It was Bailey, but in such a terrible plight; tears sprung to her eyes. The dog was lying on his left side, scarcely breathing.

  “Bailey. What’s happened? What have they done to you?”

  His fur was wet and matted with blood. As Cassandra adjusted her vision and travelled the length of his body, she saw there was a huge gaping wound along his stomach and flank. The edges were cleanly cut, and to her dismay, she saw the laceration was still bleeding. She felt her face tighten in shock, and her stomach heaved and wobbled with nausea. She didn’t have time to wonder how it had happened; all she knew was Bailey needed medical help and as fast as possible. This was not a small cut which she could bathe and cover with a dressing. She was no nurse, but she knew for certain it needed surgery and suturing. She grabbed her car keys and purse, threw on a dry jacket and shoes, and picked up a thick blanket from the spare bed.

  Within minutes, she was speeding to the same veterinary surgery she had used before for Bailey’s puppy ailments. Only this time, a mute Bailey was wrapped in the blanket on the back seat. The dog hadn’t complained once when she picked him up, and glancing over her shoulder as they sped along the road, she could only pray he would hold on.

  The rain had stopped once night fell and with it the temperature. Cas
sandra discovered the road was already icy in places, and her car skidded once or twice when she took a bend too fast. She dialled the number of the veterinary surgeon with one hand on the wheel and breathed a sigh of relief when Ailsa answered the call. Minutes later, she slithered to a stop outside the surgery and hammered on the door.

  ***

  “You’re lucky to catch me. I’m off on holiday tomorrow.” Ailsa Bruce’s keen eyes rapidly assessed the stricken dog and soon had him lying on an operating table. Cassandra remembered she had to really concentrate to understand Ailsa’s thick Glaswegian accent.

  “He’s completely flat. He must have lost a lot of blood, poor wee laddie. My assistant’s on her way, and we’ll get working on him in no time. First he needs an IVI to combat the shock before I can sort out the wound under anaesthesia. Do you want to wait? It’ll take me some time, and I’m afraid I have to be honest…I don’t know for sure if he’ll make it. He should do, as he’s young and healthy and in the best place, but please be prepared.”

  Cassandra lifted her tear-filled eyes from Bailey to meet those of the red-headed, calm, and efficient younger woman. She saw Ailsa was already drawing up a syringe of fluid with an intravenous pack at the ready. Noting Cassandra’s alarmed gaze, she explained. “Antibiotics. I’ll also do an X-ray to find out why he’s bleeding so badly. We have to ensure there isn’t a foreign body inside him.”

  Cassandra felt herself shaking. “There isn’t. At least I don’t think so. I believe he was cut by a sharp instrument.”

  The vet glanced at Cassandra with narrow, questioning eyes. “Are you sure? Do you know what caused this?” she asked as she injected the white fluid into the puppy.

  Cassandra felt nauseated and faint for a moment and waited until it passed before answering the surgeon. “I’m pretty sure he was struck by a sword.”

  Stunned, Ailsa opened her pale grey eyes wide. “A sword you say? What sick bastard would attack a puppy with a sword?”

  Cassandra swayed and groped for the table in front of her.

  “If you’re going to pass out on me, sit down, for God’s sake. I haven’t got time to pick you up off the floor while dealing with an injured dog. Okay? Feeling better?” Ailsa asked as Cassandra sank down onto a nearby chair.

  “I’m all right…just feeling a bit queasy.”

  Ailsa nodded. “Shock, I expect. Stay right where you are. Now, can you explain what you said a moment ago?”

  Cassandra wondered whether the unruffled and capable veterinary surgeon would believe her fantastic tale. Should she take a chance and tell her? “It’s a long story, and one you’re not going to believe.”

  “Humph. Try me. You can’t imagine what I’ve seen and heard in this job.”

  Cassandra inhaled deeply. She was feeling better; perhaps it was the composed attitude of the woman standing before her. “I was out walking and Bailey disappeared. I searched all over the hills above Inverdarroch, but he’d simply vanished. While I was looking, a figure—a man—appeared by the cairn, and I’m positive he was carrying a sword. Now, I didn’t actually see him strike Bailey, but I can’t think of any reason for him to be so badly wounded.”

  The vet stared. “That’s unbelievable. Have you told the police?”

  “Not yet. They know I lost Bailey and…” Cassandra’s voice trailed off.

  “And?” Ailsa enquired her eyes big and round.

  Cassandra paused while thinking fast. If she mentioned losing Julian too, the woman would think she had gone completely mad.

  “And nothing. Two policemen came up to Inverdarroch and had a scout around, but we could find no trace of Bailey or the sword carrier. Bailey showed up at home a couple of hours later.”

  “Even so, you should let them know he’s turned up and the condition he’s in. I’ll certainly let them know if you don’t. It would be stupid not to report it.”

  “Oh, I will!”

  “As for the man with the sword, well, strange things happen, and some people are shockingly cruel. You must let them know.”

  “Don’t worry. I plan to as soon as I get home.”

  Both women glanced up as the door to the surgery opened, accompanied by a cold blast. Cassandra recognised Ailsa’s veterinary nurse. After a few words, Ailsa said Cassandra could either wait in the waiting room while they operated on Bailey, or she could return home and telephone first thing in the morning. It had to be first thing, as Ailsa was flying out to Switzerland later that morning.

  “No doubt he’ll need to be kept in for a few days to recover, and although I’ll be away, my assistant will be staying here. There’s the beauty of having your practice attached to your house. The other vet at the end of town, Fergus, will call in and check Bailey over every day until he can be discharged.”

  Cassandra thought about her lonely, empty cottage on the dark, forbidding moor of Inverdarroch and compared it with the warm and blazing lights of the surgery. There’s a lot to be said for having company tonight, she thought. If only Angus was there with her. They would have sat down, and Cassandra could have clarified everything in detail to him. Beginning from the time she first met her sister. Cassandra wanted to explain about Susan’s initial contact and relate to Angus the awful story Susan had shocked her with. She wanted to ask Angus more questions about Susan’s apparent suicide and everything which accompanied her death. She needed to expound on her miserable childhood, and Susan’s and Rupert’s departure from the family home. Her brother…what had become of him? Susan never mentioned seeing him again once he moved to the Far East, but Cassandra wondered if he was still alive. She gave a shudder and wondered what had caused her to feel edgy. The sudden image of two crossed claymore hanging above his fireplace flashed into her mind…

  “I’ll wait if you don’t mind.”

  Chapter 27 The Present, Inverdarroch

  After spending the remaining night hours alternatively dozing and drinking tea in Ailsa’s waiting room, Cassandra was on her way home. Bailey had survived the anaesthesia and was lying groggily in a safe cage back at the surgery.

  “He’s a strong dog and should be feeling fine in a few days,” Ailsa told her earlier as she slumped down on a seat in front of Cassandra. She yawned. “I’m bushed, and I’ve got to finish my packing before I grab a few hours’ sleep.” She looked at her watch and, after standing up, crossed over to the window and peered out. “It looks like we’ve had a heavy frost on top of all the rain yesterday. The roads will be icy. You’re welcome to stay until it gets light. It might be safer.”

  Cassandra shivered, not wanting to travel back to Inverdarroch in the dark and certainly not wanting to be alone in her cottage. She too felt weary.

  “Thanks. I’ll stay if you don’t mind and leave as soon as I’ve seen Bailey.”

  “Right. I’ve locked the surgery…I have to by law. So you can’t sneak in that way to see him. You can only visit the dog kennels by going outside, but really he needs to rest now. He’ll most likely sleep until mid-morning anyway. ”

  Cassandra nodded. “It’s okay. I’ll see him before I leave.”

  “So I’ll say goodnight.”

  ***

  As soon as it was light, Cassandra called in to see Bailey. The normally playful puppy managed a pathetic wag of his tail before attempting to sit up to greet her. She felt dreadful looking at her dog and made a vow to discover who had done this to a helpless animal. Reflecting on who could possibly have been the culprit made Cassandra think about Inverdarroch and all its inhabitants. As she went over each one, she couldn’t believe any one of them would harm a puppy. Okay, so a few were odd, and she suspected some might even be callous but hardly as barbaric as that.

  She swore to Ailsa she would contact the police as soon as possible, but the thought of Officers Kerr and Murray tramping through her cottage held little appeal. She knew they considered her a complete fruit cake. Well, now she had something to show them…if she wished.

  As she left the surgery, Cassandra saw there had been
snow during the early hours. It hadn’t amounted to much—just an inch or so in the town, but remembering the ice earlier, she needed to take care on the road. On the way home, she considered what she should tell them and came to the conclusion she would speak to Angus first. She particularly wanted to see his reaction.

  Drawing up at her cottage, she noticed a heavy grey blanket of cloud had arrived from the northeast and with it more snow. That morning, it was a light flurry mixed with sleet, which somehow seemed to seep through the layers of wool Cassandra was wearing. The chill made her feel weary and her bones ached. She thought longingly of her bathtub back in Liverpool and wondered what the hell she was doing there at all. She had buried a long-lost sister, who was burdened with guilt after a young child’s death. But it was time to move on. Wasn’t it?

  Cassandra got out of her car and walked towards her garden gate, front-door key at the ready. She inserted it into the lock and pushed the door open. The room was dim from the overcast sky, the fire had long burnt itself out, and a chill descended upon her. She switched on the light and glanced around the room. She noticed immediately something was wrong. On the wall where the picture of the local hills and tartan-clad figure should have been, there was a blank space.

  “Shit,” she muttered under her breath. Someone must have had a duplicate key. This was creepy. She stared round the room, looking at everything which was familiar. Was her kitchen undisturbed? Who had been in and removed the picture? She looked behind the sofa, thinking it might have fallen down and slipped between the wall and the sofa back. Frowning, Cassandra searched the rest of the room. She wasn’t frightened but felt bewildered and angry. Could she have put it somewhere when she was upset the previous day, before Bailey showed up? Could she really have done that and forgotten? No, it was just ridiculous. She would have remembered doing it. No one else had a key, surely? The solicitor gave her all the keys when she first arrived. She had never even given a spare to a neighbour for safekeeping. She must have moved it; there was no other rational explanation. But where?