The Ghost House

by Helen Phifer

  Will sat down. He had struggled running the cases for the few days while his boss had been off sick but he knew they would send someone in to take over. It was all far too high profile to leave to him and his team.

  ‘To be honest, boss, it’s not going that well. We have a few leads as far as the murder victim Emma Harvey is concerned but nothing concrete. We also have a last confirmed sighting of Jenna White near to Abbey Wood, but as you will be aware it’s a huge area to cover and we have search teams out again this morning.’

  ‘Good. I take it we are assuming these cases are linked. When you say we have a few leads does one of them include a name for the offender?’

  Will blew out his cheeks. ‘No, we don’t. It doesn’t make sense at all: abducting one girl and then killing another. Leaving the body on show is quite unusual behaviour but then again I can’t say I’ve had much experience in this kind of situation.’

  ‘Have you thought about consulting and external advisor, you know, a psychological profiler? If not, I have a very good friend in Manchester who would be willing to come down and take a look. Obviously it’s your shout and I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.’

  Will tried hard to contain his excitement. ‘Sir, I think it would be wonderful. If you could ask them to come down as soon as possible because I’m afraid that time’s running out for Jenna and the chances of finding her alive are very slim. I’ll take all the help I can get.’

  ‘Good, that’s what I like to hear. No point being too proud to admit you could do with a helping hand, is there? Not when lives are at risk. I’ll arrange it now. I spoke to her last night so she is aware and she should be with you by mid-afternoon. Her name is Grace Marshall. I’ll tell her to report to the front desk.’

  ‘Thank you, sir, I appreciate it.’

  The voice on the other end erupted into a coughing fit and put the phone down. Will had thought today would be the day and he was right. He thought about how perfect it almost was with Annie this morning and he was still grinning when Stu walked in followed by Laura.

  ‘Morning. What do you want: tea or coffee?’

  They did a double take, confused. Will left to go and wash his coffee pot. Stu leant over and whispered in Laura’s ear. ‘He got a shag last night, that’s why he’s in such a good mood. I’ll bet you a fiver.’

  Laura glared at Stu and hissed. ‘Not everything revolves around getting your end away, Stu. It’s possible to be in a good mood for things other than sex.’

  ‘I’m telling you when you’re a bloke the only thing that puts you in a really good mood is having great sex, well, any sex or watching reruns of Dr Who.’

  ‘I worry about you. I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that now I know when you’re in a good mood that you and Debs have been at it like rabbits or that someone bought you the Dr Who box set.’

  ‘I wonder who it was then. First one to get it out of him gets a cream cake from that new bakery down the street.’

  Laura considered it for a moment. ‘You’re off your head, Stu, but I’ll do anything for a cream cake.’

  Will walked back in. ‘What are you two conspiring about?’

  Laura smiled sweetly. ‘Nothing in particular, just Stu’s twisted take on life. Stu, why don’t you tell Will what you just told me?’

  Stu turned a vivid shade of red and spluttered, ‘I was just explaining to Laura how great it is when you get a shag and how much it puts you in a good mood. Well, not just you, I more meant us, well, all men on the whole.’

  Will scrunched up his face trying to work out was Stu was saying as Jake walked into the office.

  ‘Ooh serious conversation, what’s up?’

  Stu looked as if he wanted the floor to swallow him whole and Laura started to laugh.

  ‘You lot are unbelievable, I’d rather have a bar of chocolate and a cup of coffee.’

  The phone on Will’s desk began to ring just as he’d shoved a slice of cake in his mouth.

  Laura stepped forward. ‘I suppose you want me to answer that?’

  He gave Laura the thumbs up and she picked it up. Will got a whiff of her perfume and it smelt good.

  ‘Good morning CID, hang on he’s here now that he’s finished stuffing his face with Mars bar cake. I’ll put him on.’

  Will didn’t know what was the matter with her lately. She was snappy and miserable and she looked like she’d lost a lot of weight. He would ask Stu later. Maybe she had boyfriend trouble although he wasn’t even sure if she had one.

  ‘Will speaking.’

  ‘Hi, it’s me Matt. I just got some results back that were fast-tracked through to the lab from the wound on Emma Harvey’s throat.’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘The swabs showed two separate blood samples as well as our victim’s. I’m afraid one is a match for Jenna White.’

  ‘Shit.’

  Everyone in the office stopped what they were doing to listen to Will’s side of the conversation.

  ‘I’m afraid so. Our suspect used a sharp knife to slit her throat. The only way to explain Jenna’s blood being on that knife is that he used it to cut her before he used it on Emma.’

  ‘You’re sure about that? There’s no chance the samples could have been contaminated or anything?’ Will regretted the words as soon as he said them and Matt snapped back at him.

  ‘Are you saying I’m an idiot who can’t do his job properly?’

  Will lowered his voice. ‘No, I’m kind of wishing for Jenna White’s sake that you’re an idiot who can’t do his job.’

  The anger left Matt’s voice. ‘This is where it gets strange. The other sample is really old and there are only minute specks, but it’s there and a completely different blood type to the others. It looks like our killer favours antique knives as his weapon of choice and it looks like whoever owned it last time didn’t clean it very well. There is some strange shit going on.’

  Will was busy scribbling notes. ‘Thanks, Matt.’ He put down the phone and stood up. ‘I take it you all got the gist of that conversation. The knife used to kill Emma had Jenna White’s blood on it and another sample, which was really old. So while it’s possible Jenna is lying somewhere injured we now have a firm connection between Jenna’s abductor and Emma’s killer. I am assuming the worst that Jenna was killed first. Laura, I want you to contact the White’s Family Liaison Officer. Tell them to prepare the Whites for the worst. Not a word of this to the press, they are already printing utter bollocks and scaring everyone in a ten-mile radius so let’s not give them anything to go on. Stu, I want you to go around the secondhand shops and antique dealers, see if anyone has sold an old knife lately.’ He glanced at Jenna’s picture and clenched his knuckles into tight fists then left the room, he needed some air.

  Chapter 31

  Henry stopped the car outside his house. He looked at Mike who was leant over and slurring his words.

  ‘Nice house, I always wanted a house with a garage but she wanted a conservatory. I think if I’d had a garage things would have been a lot different.’

  Henry frowned, not wanting to enquire as to how a garage would make any difference to someone’s marriage. But he nodded as if he agreed. Four pints of Stella had topped up whatever the loser had been drinking the night before. He had listened to him ramble on for the last hour, plying him with drink because Henry didn’t know if he could overpower Mike unless he was drunk. The tales he had told him had made him wonder just how violent the man was and he felt sorry for the woman who was married to him. He couldn’t afford to have him turning up at the farm and spoiling everything so he’d come up with a plan.

  Henry stepped out of the car and made his way down the garden path with Mike following behind. He opened the door expecting to be greeted by his mother’s voice, instead he was greeted by silence. Mike tripped over the door and pushed into his back.

  ‘Right, my man, where is that Jack Daniel’s you were on about? I need to pee first though.’

  Henry pointed
up the stairs. ‘Straight up, second door on the right.’

  Mike walked up the stairs and Henry went into the kitchen. He could hear him moving around in the bathroom above him and took the hammer from out of the drawer. He thought about using the knife but it didn’t seem right: that was for his girls. A couple of smacks over the head with the hammer would do the trick. He hadn’t killed anyone with a hammer before so it was basically guesswork. His fingers closed around the shaft. The idiot upstairs was taking far too long; he hoped he wasn’t being sick, Henry hated sick. He decided to go upstairs and see what he was doing.

  Mike came out of the bathroom and fell against a door across the hall. As it opened so did his mouth. Staring back at him from the wall were lots of pictures: he knew that smile, he knew those dimples. He stepped inside the room his eyes following a line of pictures up to the ceiling and it was then that his legs began to tremble and he lifted his hand to his mouth. On the ceiling above the bed was a life-size picture of Annie, her black curly hair peeking out from underneath the blue woollen hat she wore when it was raining.

  Mike’s beer-soaked brain was trying to make sense of what was going on when the hammer connected with the back of his head. The first blow knocked him to his knees and the room began to swim. Mike winced at the taste of the stale lager and bile, which filled his mouth. The second blow was so hard it shattered his skull and a shard of it embedded itself into his brain, killing him instantly.

  At the exact moment of Mike’s death Annie felt a cold shiver go down her spine. She was driving back to the farm and trying to act as if everything was normal when really it was getting worse by the minute. She didn’t know what to do.

  When she got back she went straight into the house and locked up. The sky outside was growing darker, it looked as if another shower was on its way. Annie took out her phone and stood in the middle of the kitchen where she sometimes got a signal if she was lucky. She rang Will but it went straight to voicemail. She tried Derek but his was the same. She needed to do something so she began cleaning the kitchen, anything to keep her mind occupied. She contemplated ringing Jake but he was such a drama queen he would send a patrol car flying up to make sure she was OK and technically she was, she just didn’t know what was going on.

  As Will walked past the sergeant’s office he heard Kav call his name. ‘Will, I think you should know, I’ve just taken a call from Carlisle bail hostel. Mike Graham left yesterday and hasn’t been seen since. Jake informed me that you have taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on our Annie, which is very gentlemanly of you, so I thought you should know. Do you want me to tell her or will you?’

  ‘Jesus. They only just decide to tell us this now, a day later. I’ll ring her. Leave it with me.’

  ‘I don’t think he’d have the balls to go near her, not after his last ordeal before he got to custody. Mind you, he was a bit of a fighter but no match for me and Jake.’

  ‘I hope you’re right Kav, I really do.’

  Will left the station. He needed to go home and shower before the profiler arrived. He tried Annie again but still no joy so he left her a message. He’d really wanted to speak to her and hear her voice but he would keep trying.

  Henry found it mildly disturbing that death didn’t bother him anymore. He added the body count up on his fingers and he was up to four; five once he had the woman from the farm. He knew she would be the challenge. There was no way she would go down without a fight, not like the others. For some reason he knew that she was the one that could bring it all tumbling down and somewhere inside him a tiny part wanted her to. He hadn’t wanted any of this in the first place but he wasn’t strong enough to fight against whatever it was that was driving him.

  He looked down at the body on his bedroom floor. It didn’t matter anymore, there was no point in hiding it. If by some miracle he killed the woman without getting caught he would think about what to do with the mounting number of bodies in his house.

  He was washing the blood from his hands when the doorbell rang, followed by a loud thud, thud on the door. He froze and waited a minute but whoever it was banged even harder on the glass. Stripping off his bloodstained shirt he dropped it into the washing basket, then splashing cold water over his hair and face he grabbed a towel and jogged down the stairs. Through the glass in the door he could see the outline of a huge police officer. The fluorescent yellow jacket filled the doorway. It’s over, Henry.

  Forcing himself to breathe slowly he opened the door. ‘Sorry, officer, I was just getting out of the shower. Is there anything wrong?’

  ‘Sorry to disturb you, sir, we had a call from a – ‘ He looked down at the name in his notebook ‘ – a Mrs Edith Wright. She is concerned about the welfare of your mother. She claims she hasn’t seen her for a couple of days and it’s very unlike her.’

  ‘I’m sorry, officer, you’ve been misled and your time wasted. My aunt, who lives in Blackpool, was rushed to hospital. She has no family of her own so my mother has gone to visit her. I drove her to the station myself. Would you like to come in while I ring her and you can speak to her? But whatever you do don’t tell her I haven’t hoovered or polished.’ He winked at Jake.

  ‘Have you spoken to her today, sir?’

  ‘About an hour ago. She rang to say she would be staying on a few more days.’

  ‘That’s fine. As long as you’re not worried about her it’s not a problem. Would you mind signing my notebook to say I’ve spoken with you and you’re happy with everything?’

  Henry turned to the side to wipe the sweat from the palm of his hand and noticed his mother’s handbag on the floor by the side of the chair. His palms began to sweat even more and his stomach clenched so hard he thought he was going to throw up.

  The copper looked at him. ‘Everything all right? You don’t look very well?’

  Henry shook his head, signed the book and handed it back. ‘Too much beer and a dodgy curry.’

  Jake gave him a look of sympathy. ‘Thanks for your time. I’ll let Mrs Wright know that everything’s fine. Take care.’

  Henry stayed at the door to make sure he walked out of the gate and got back into the police car. He waved at him and shut the front door. He made it to the living room then fell onto the sofa, shutting his eyes as the room began to spin before it all went black.

  Chapter 32

  Jake drove back to the station. It was almost finishing time. That guy had been a bit odd but he wasn’t going to argue with him. He should know the whereabouts of his own mother and he didn’t seem a bit concerned. Jake updated the control room operator that everything was in order and that he’d update the informant himself. He went into the parade room and sat at the last empty desk. Picking up the phone he rang the number on the log and told the woman who called it in what he had found out.

  ‘Did you go inside and check the house, officer?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. I believe that Mrs Smith’s son had no reason to lie to me, therefore I had insufficient grounds to enter the property.’

  ‘Well, young man, I don’t know any woman who would leave town without their handbag. I saw it there when I peered through the window. It’s still in the same place it was on Wednesday.’

  Jake thought she had a point but it was five minutes past his finishing time and women normally had a lot more than one handbag. Plus Alex was cooking and they were going to open the expensive bottle of wine Annie had bought him for his birthday.

  ‘Look, Mrs Wright, if you don’t get in touch with your friend by tomorrow night I will go back and search the house myself.’

  This calmed her down a little. ‘Thank you, but I’m telling you something isn’t right with this lot. I can feel it in my bones.’

  Jake agreed with her.

  Will made it back to the station in record time. Smelling of coffee and Chanel aftershave, he ignored the wolf whistle from Claire and Sally who were on their way out of the back yard and dashed inside. He didn’t want to miss the arrival of the profiler. As he walk
ed past the front office the clerk, who he’d never seen before, asked him if he knew who DS Ashworth was. She blushed when he said me and grinned.

  ‘There’s a Grace Marshall waiting for you.’

  For the first time in a couple of days Annie faded from his mind as he thought about catching Emma Harvey’s killer and bringing Jenna White home. He opened the door onto a bustling reception area, which was full of people that could have quite easily made the guest list for Jeremy Kyle. They all turned to look at him, hoping it was their name he was going to shout so they wouldn’t be sitting there for hours. He surveyed the faces and settled on the twenty-something woman holding a briefcase on her lap: she was either Grace Marshall or someone’s brief. He said her name and she moved so fast he almost missed it. She was obviously glad to be moving away from the kid next to her who was scratching at her head so much Will was surprised she still had some hair.

  Grace followed him through the door and once it had closed and the members of public couldn’t hear him he spoke. ‘It’s a good job I didn’t take too long or you would have got yourself a head full of nits.’

  She tried to frown but smiled instead. ‘Well, DS Ashworth, I would have passed them onto you for making me wait so long.’

  He laughed and led the way around to his office. ‘Welcome to hell, well sort of, it’s not that bad when girls are not being murdered or going missing.’

  ‘I was born and bred here, sergeant. I left to go to University then got a job working in a psychiatric unit in Salford with some of the more – how should I put it? – undesirable members of the public.’

  Will held out his hand. ‘Let’s call a truce. I’m so glad you were able to come at such short notice. Things are happening which are out of our control and we need all the help we can get. There is one condition, though. Please call me Will: I hate all the DS crap.’

  She held out her hand and shook his with the tightest grip he’d ever felt from a woman. They both grinned at each other.