by Sam Short
Chapter 25
As Sergeant Spencer prepared to knock the door of the small house, he turned to face the two girls. "If you're correct, Millie," he said, "we could be dealing with a very dangerous man. Both of you be on your guard."
"I know I'm right," said Millie. "Everything points to him being the murderer."
"We'll soon find out," said Sergeant Spencer, checking his handcuffs were in their pouch. He hammered on the door with a big fist. "Open up, Billy McKenna!" he shouted. "It's me, Sergeant Spencer! I have some very serious questions to ask you."
The door opened within half a minute, and Billy glared at them from the hallway beyond. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he said. "It's not every day you get a visit from a burly police sergeant and his two beautiful assistants."
Millie peered past Billy, much like Henry Pinkerton had tried to do when he'd visited her flat in London. "No dog?" she said.
The corner of his mouth lifting into a sneer, Billy stared at Millie. "No. Why do you ask?"
"You said you had a dog, Billy," said Millie. "When me and Sergeant Spencer brought you home the other night, when you were fighting outside the pub. You said the hairs on your clothes, and the smell, had come from your dog."
Billy looked harder at Millie. "It was you in the police car with Sergeant Spencer?" he said. "I was very drunk that night, it's hard to remember."
"No dog though?" said Millie.
Billy shook his head. "No, I don't have a dog. I don't know why I said I did."
"And you still haven't found your glasses?" said Millie. "Maybe that's why you don't remember what I looked like."
"No, I still haven't found my glasses," said Billy. "I shall be visiting the optician next week to purchase a new pair." He looked between the three of them. "I'm sure you’re not here to ask me if I I'm a dog owner, and to check on my eye health. What do you want? Spit it out."
Sergeant Spencer pushed past the thin man, forcing his way into his home. "Billy McKenna," he said, reaching for the suspect’s arms. "I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder, you don't have to —"
Billy moved quickly. Stepping backwards along the hallway, he reached for the small of his back. When he lifted his hand again, Sergeant Spencer shouted a warning. "He's got a gun!"
"And I'm not afraid to use it," said Billy, the pistol steady in his hand. "I'm not going back to prison. No way. Not for Albert Salmon!"
As if floating outside of her own body, and with nausea gripping her insides, Millie spoke as confidently as she could manage. "So, it was you?" she said. "You did kill Albert?"
"Of course it was me," confirmed Billy. "And I'm not sorry for it. I could have killed you too, if I'd wanted to. I was right beside you when you came into the lighthouse after I'd pushed Albert off it."
"So you do remember me?" said Millie.
“I do," said Billy, shifting the pistol slightly to the right, the barrel aimed directly at Millie's face. "I may need glasses, but I'm not totally blind. I watched you from the balcony, rushing towards the lighthouse like some sort of wannabe hero"
“Point the gun at me, Billy!” said Sergeant Spencer. “You’ve already killed one innocent person, you don’t want to kill any more.”
“Albert wasn’t innocent,” said Billy. “He ruined my sister’s life!”
“Betty was your sister, wasn’t she?” said Millie. “Her maiden name was Mckenna — I saw it in a document. Billy is short for William, so your initials are WM — you wrote that threatening letter to Albert all those years ago. When you were in prison.”
The gun barrel still trained on Millie, Billy grinned. “I’m happy to know that he kept my correspondence,” he said. “It’s nice to know that I meant that much to him.”
With Millie and Judith still standing on the doorstep, Sergeant Spencer moved slightly to the left, putting himself between Millie and the gun. Billy adjusted his aim, directing the pistol at Sergeant Spencer’s wide chest. “Don’t move again,” he said. “I’m ex-military, and I’m a good shot. I won’t miss at this range.”
“Why were you in prison, Billy? said Sergeant Spencer.
“Trying to keep me occupied with conversation are you, Sergeant? So I don’t shoot you?” sneered Billy. “Well I’ve got nowhere to go. I’ve got plenty of time to talk.”
“Tell me, then,” said Sergeant Spencer. “Why were you in prison?”
“I was in prison for making death threats,” said Billy. “To Albert Salmon. The police took it seriously when they searched my home and found the Iraqi pistols I’d smuggled back to Britain after operation Desert Storm.” He waved the pistol in the air, briefly turning the barrel away from human flesh. “They didn’t find this one, though.”
For such a large man, Sergeant Spencer moved quickly. He ducked low as he threw himself towards Billy, taking his chance while he could, yelling at Millie and Judith to get down.
In the narrow hallway, the gunshot was deafening. Like an angry bee, the round passed close to Millie’s ear, buzzing as it screamed a path past her head. Hearing Judith scream, Millie feared the worst. The bullet must have hit her.
Billy flew backwards as Sergeant Spencer’s shoulder struck his midriff, the big policeman’s strength easily overpowering the smaller man.
Judith screamed again as the two men grappled on the floor, Sergeant Spencer attempting to control the arm with which Billy wielded the pistol. If Judith had been hit by the bullet, at least she was still alive, and well enough to scream.
No expert on guns, Millie was fully aware that most military pistols were of the semi-automatic variety — the sort that fired one bullet with each squeeze of the trigger — as quickly as the person firing it could pull the trigger.
As the gun barrel found the side of Sergeant Spencer’s temple, metal digging into hair and flesh, Billy’s finger curled around the trigger, the muscles in his forearm twitching as he applied pressure.
Judith screamed once more, and Millie did the only thing she could think of. Drawing on the bubbling heat behind her breast bone, she focussed on what she wanted to happen, and flung her magic from deep within her, with an anger which startled her.
A flash of flame erupted from the barrel of the pistol, and the explosive bang reverberated in Millie’s eardrums as Sergeant Spencer’s head jolted sideways, and he gave a drawn-out groan.
“No!” shouted Judith, terror moulding her words. “Dad! No!”
As Millie stared at the pool of blood seeping into the hallway carpet, her mind wandered to the aroma which filled the small space. Surprisingly, the smell of cordite was actually quite pleasant.
Judith’s screams broke into her shocked trance, and Millie reached for her phone. The moon-pool wasn't going to be able to help this time — the carnage at her feet was definitely a job for the hospital.
Chapter 26
"I'm sorry about your father, Judith," said Billy, one hand cuffed to the wooden table, and the other bandaged in thick layers of gauze. "It was an accident. I was scared, I didn't want to go back to jail — I've spent most of my life there since leaving the Army."
Judith shrugged. "Although I wish nobody had got hurt, you came off worse, Billy. I hope the three nights you spent in a hospital bed were comfortable, because I’ve got a feeling the bed you’re going to be sleeping in for the foreseeable future won't be so soft."
Billy held up his bandaged hand. "Five fingers are overrated anyway, I'm sure I'll manage with one finger and a thumb. As for the prison bed — I’ve sort of got used to them over the years."
The door swung open with a heavy thud, and Sergeant Spencer entered the interrogation room, smiling at the prisoner. "Glad to see they patched you up," he said, taking a seat between Millie and Judith. "That will teach you to the maintain your weapons in the future, not that I hold out much hope that you'll ever own a gun again."
Billy looked at his hand. "The army taught me how to look after my weapons," he said. "Whatever happened to my pistol wasn't down to a lack of maintenance on my behalf."
&n
bsp; Sergeant Spencer turned to Millie and gave her a conspiratorial wink, the stitches above his ear the only sign a bullet had almost penetrated his skull. "Perhaps it was divine intervention, Billy," he said. "Maybe somebody was looking after me that day."
Sergeant Spencer had been lucky. Very lucky. Millie had cast the spell with a heartbeat to spare. She still wasn't sure exactly what spell she’d cast as she'd flung the magic from her fingers — she'd simply envisioned a force field between Sergeant Spencer's head and the barrel of the gun.
Whatever the spell was, it had worked. Meeting an invisible force-field as it had peeped over the rim of the barrel, the bullet had met powerful magical resistance, and the pistol had exploded in Billy's hand.
The wound Sergeant Spencer had suffered was minor compared to the carnage caused to Billy's hand. Even the highly skilled surgeon who’d treated Billy couldn’t save his fingers, but at least nobody had died — a positive outcome in Millie’s estimation.
It had taken Judith almost a full day to stop shaking after the incident, and then a further day to cease apologising to Millie for not doing more to help while Billy was brandishing a gun.
Millie understood. Of course she did. Judith had already seen two of her parents die — watching her second father almost being killed had pushed her over the edge. All she’d been able to do was scream.
Through gritted teeth, Billy gazed at the tape recorder placed at the end of the table. "I suppose you'll be wanting my confession?" he asked. "I've given plenty of them in my time, but never to a policeman, his daughter, and another girl whose job I can't quite work out."
"They work with me, Billy," said Sergeant Spencer. "That's all you need to know." The recorder clicked into action as he pressed a button. He levelled a stern gaze at his prisoner. "Okay, Billy, would you run through the events of the day on which you murdered Albert Salmon? We'll get to the reasons why in due course."
Billy leaned back in his seat, and gave a thin smile. "I'd been planning that day since I’d arrived in Spellbinder Bay a few months ago," he said. "I knew Albert wouldn't discover I was in town, and that I'd finally found him. I'd asked around and found out he was practically a hermit. I knew I could bide my time until the anniversary of my sister's death — what better day to use to get my revenge on the man who ruined her life, and put her in an early grave?"
"How did he put her in an early grave?" said Judith.
"We'll get to that," said Sergeant Spencer. "Just let Billy tell us what happened on the day he killed Albert."
"I went to the lighthouse bright and early," said Billy. "I wanted to get the unsavoury job out of the way so I could spend the rest of the day in the pub. It was the first time I'd visited the lighthouse, and I realised pretty quickly that it wasn't going to be as easy as I’d imagined."
"Why?" asked Millie.
"The door," replied Billy. "I thought I'd be able to break in, but that door is bombproof. There was no way I was going to get through it."
"What did you do?" asked Sergeant Spencer.
"I waited," said Billy. "I hid in the sand dunes. I hoped Albert would venture outside at some point. I didn't wait long before a van arrived — a taxidermist’s van of all things. Albert tossed him a key from the window and he let himself in with his tool bag."
"You didn't see anybody else?" said Millie. "Like a woman sitting on the rocks near the lighthouse?"
Billy frowned. "No, why? Was somebody else there?"
"A witness," said Sergeant Spencer. "She saw the taxidermist’s van, but evidently she didn't see you."
"The fact that somebody else was there wouldn't surprise me at all," said Billy. "For a man who was a hermit, he certainly had a lot of visitors that day. The taxidermist didn't stay for long, and when he left he had a face like thunder. He was carrying a bigger bag than he went in with, and I heard Albert shouting something as he slammed the door behind them."
"The old stuffing from the bear," said Millie. "That's what he was carrying." She locked her eyes on Billy's. "But you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Billy?"
Billy smiled. "I'll get to that," he said. "After the taxidermist left, I approached the lighthouse. I had to hide again before I could get close — I heard another vehicle approaching. It was a yellow car, and I recognised the woman driving it — that old battle-axe, Edna Brockett.”
"You hid again?" said Sergeant Spencer.
Billy nodded. "Albert wouldn't let her in at first, but eventually he threw her a key. She was only there for a few minutes, and she left with a face like thunder, too. It seems that Albert didn't get on with people very well at all. "
"And that's when you got into the lighthouse, isn't it, Billy?" said Millie. "Albert told us that Edna had left the door open."
"It was just the luck I needed," said Billy. "I used the long grass to cover my approach so Edna wouldn't see me as she drove away, and sneaked in through the door. I could hear Albert complaining, and I could hear footsteps from above, so I looked for somewhere to hide — I didn't want to do anything until I was certain that Edna was a long way away."
"The bear?" said Millie. “That’s where you hid?”
"It was the first thing I saw," said Billy. "It was standing right next to the door — it gave me a bit of a fright. I climbed behind it, and then realised I could get inside it. It didn't smell too good, and I thought all the loose fibres inside were going to make me sneeze, but it was the perfect hiding place."
“That’s why you smelt so bad when Millie and I took you home,” said Sergeant Spencer.
“Yes,” said Billy. “Perhaps I should have had a shower when I went home after killing Albert, but I went to the pub instead. I was a little shaken up, and I’d discovered that murder is thirsty work.”
“How long did you stay in the bear?” said Judith.
Billy looked down at the table. “I waited for Albert to lock the door. I was tempted to kill him right there and then, as he was standing next to the bear, but I wanted to make sure nobody else was going to arrive. It’s lucky I did wait, because within ten minutes somebody else was banging on the door.”
“Jim Grayson,” said Millie.
Billy nodded. “They had a shouting match,” he said. “About lobsters. It was ridiculous. Albert wouldn’t let him in, though, and he didn’t stay for long.”
“Then me and George arrived?” said Millie, “before you had the chance to hurt Albert?”
“It was infuriating!” snapped Billy, wincing as his bandaged hand struck the edge of the table. “When Jim had left, I was about to make my move on Albert. He was muttering about not having coffee, and having to drink herbal tea instead. He must have enjoyed talking to himself, because he wouldn’t stop complaining about what time his supplies were going to arrive.”
“You knew somebody else would be coming to the lighthouse,” noted Sergeant Spencer. “With his supplies.”
“Yes,” said Billy, “and the smell inside that damn bear wasn’t getting any better. I felt sick. Surely stuffed animals shouldn’t smell that bad?”
“Let’s just say the bear wasn’t stuffed properly the first time it was done,” said Judith.
“I got used to it,” said Billy, “and settled down to wait. I didn’t have to wait long as it happens. Not too long after Jim had gone, the supplies arrived.”
“We looked right at the bear,” said Millie. “George even prodded it.”
“Don’t I know it,” said Billy, with a glare in Millie’s direction. “I thought I was going to be rumbled. I had my pistol at the ready.”
“You would have killed Millie and George, too?” said Sergeant Spencer.
The only person in the room unaware that George was a vampire, and that he’d have had no chance of killing him, smiled. “Only if I‘d been forced to,” he said. “And I would have deeply regretted it.”
Millie shuddered. “It didn’t come to that,” she said. “Thankfully.”
“I thought about it,” said Billy, his eyes on Millie. “Especi
ally when you came rushing back into the lighthouse after I’d dealt with Albert. Luckily for you I had time to get back inside the bear, and sneak out of the door when you’d gone upstairs.”
“Back to the timeline, please, Billy,” said Sergeant Spencer. “What happened when Millie and George arrived?”
“I stayed hidden,” said Billy. “I listened to their conversation with the grumpy old man. They didn’t stay long, and as they were leaving, I heard Albert shouting at Millie — telling her to lock the door because he wasn’t letting anybody else in after they’d gone. I waited until I heard the motorbike leave, and made my move.”
“Feeling safe that nobody else would interrupt you,” said Judith.
“Yes,” said Billy. He pointed his bandaged hand at Millie. “I certainly didn’t expect her to still be around.”
“That’s because you didn’t hear the part of my conversation with Albert that he didn’t want George to overhear,” said Millie. “If you had, you’d have known I promised Albert I’d walk back to my cottage. He whispered because he didn’t want George to know he wasn’t a big fan of motorbikes.”
“He said that?” said Billy. “About motorbikes? How ironic.”
“What’s ironic,” said Sergeant Spencer, with a scowl, “is that you fired a bullet at my head, and now I’m sitting here alive and well in my police station, interviewing you, and preparing to send you to jail for a long time. Albert wasn’t so lucky. Tell us what you did to him, Billy.”
Billy’s face reddened. “When the motorbike had left, I sneaked out of the bear and went looking for Albert. He was two floors up, in that shoebox kitchen of his, unpacking his groceries. He had quite the shock when he saw me after all those years, I can tell you!”
“What did you do to him?” said Judith.
“He lunged at me,” laughed Billy. “I could have shot him right there and then, but he was easy to overpower. I wanted him to suffer for a bit. I wanted to hear him beg, and beg he did — but not for his life.”
“What did he beg for?” said Millie, her skin crawling as she looked into Billy’s eyes.
