by Amy Casey
I stood up again and walked over to the house.
The closer I got, the more the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Because it really did feel like there was someone else lurking in the shadows, watching my every move.
But I had to keep focused. I had to keep moving as I was moving. It was just my mind playing tricks. That’s what I had to believe.
Even though a small part of me believed a very different version of events entirely.
I walked towards the front door. Then I realised the windows at the side of the house were still not fitted. It’d be better if I went in that way; certainly made more sense, brought less attention in my direction.
I looked around.
Then I took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.”
I climbed up into the window, then I dropped inside.
When I landed, I knocked something over, which made a deafening crash.
I froze again. My heart thudded in my ears. I swore I could hear things—voices, movements.
But again, I had to keep my composure. I couldn’t lose my shit. Not now.
I oriented myself. It looked like I was in what was going to be a lounge area. A smaller lounge, perhaps. Not the main lounge, but a side room. The kind that posh houses have.
I looked around for some kind of clue; some kind of life.
But there was nothing.
I walked through the arched doorway and into what looked like it was going to be the kitchen. But again, this place was sparse too. There were no fridges or freezers, no sinks—just a cutting where the sink would inevitably go.
But this place wasn’t a home yet. It was just an empty shell.
And judging by the pigeon shit all over the place, it wasn’t going to be occupied anytime soon.
I saw something, then.
It was in the main lounge, through the doorway I could see right in front of me.
And when I saw it, the tension crept up the back of my neck.
A suitcase.
No. Not just any old suitcase.
The suitcase I’d seen that man bring in here not long ago.
As I approached it, I was under no illusions.
This was what Bill Collins wanted me to find.
This was the key to everything.
I walked slowly into the lounge. Made sure nobody else was around.
I stopped above the suitcase, tension coursing through my body, heart racing harder than ever.
I crouched down. Flicked it open. The tension getting too much. The anticipation growing too strong.
And when I opened the case, breath held, I saw it, and I understood.
I understood everything in a sudden, swift moment.
It was just a pity that I was so focused on the thing in front of me that I didn’t hear the footsteps creeping behind me.
And I didn’t see the crowbar lifting up into the air, readying to strike down on my skull.
Chapter 31
I’d be lying if I said I had a sixth sense. Then again, I dunno. My witchy senses were tingling? Could I say that? Could I get away with saying that?
But something just gave me the feeling that I wasn’t alone in this room, as I looked down at the contents of the suitcase beneath me.
Oh. You want to know what they are?
Well, you’ll just have to wait a second because there’s a few more important matters at hand.
Like saving my own damned skin.
I heard the floorboard creak right behind me and I swung around.
It was a good job I did, because the person behind me had a crowbar raised.
I threw myself to the left. Slammed my head against the wall, which probably hurt more than the bloody crowbar would’ve done, in all truth.
I tasted blood in my mouth, my head spinning. All of it—all of all of this—was proving too much.
Because it all made sense.
Suddenly, it all made sense.
I saw the man standing behind me with his hood raised. I saw the light from the moon peeking in through the front window. I saw him, and I knew who it was, right away. I didn’t need to see his face to know. I just knew.
I wiped my mouth, tried to force some composure. “So, drugs?” I said. “That’s your big secret deal, Herbert?”
He was still for a few seconds. And in those seconds, I wondered whether perhaps I’d got this wrong. If maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t Herbert Young after all, but someone else.
And then he lowered his hood and I saw his face.
“I thought I’d made myself pretty clear already?” Herbert said. “To stay out of my business. Alas, here we are. Regretful, really. But if it’s the way it has to be, it’s the way it has to be.”
I didn’t like the way he was speaking. I didn’t like his tone. It was defeatist, almost. Like he felt like he only had one option—and if I was in the right ballpark, I didn’t like the sound of what that option was one bit.
“So let me guess,” I said. “You, Andy and the rest of your cronies had a little drug operation going on. Andy wasn’t pulling his weight, so you did the dirty on him?”
“Andy was stealing from us and selling independently,” Herbert said, speaking as frank and matter of factly as possible. “Started by just chipping a little off the top. But eventually, it became a lot. A hell of a lot. I knew it was unwise, to trust someone like that. But we needed to recruit him in order to garner his contacts, at least initially, anyway. Everyone in this deal has their place. And Andy decided he wasn’t playing nice anymore. Something had to change.”
A sour taste in my mouth. Everything was becoming clear. “So you snuffed him out.”
Herbert took a step towards me. “I confronted Andy that night. I had a stern word with him. I told him to strongly reconsider, or he might not get another opportunity. But I’ll tell you one thing. I did not kill him. I did not.”
“Alright, Tommy Wiseau.”
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just a line from a... Never mind. So you’re trying to tell me you wanted Andy out of the picture but that you didn’t actually kill him? And you expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t know what happened in Graveson Manor that night. I don’t know whether one of my associates dealt with him. I really can’t tell you. All I can tell you is that Andy was a problem to many people. And then he wasn’t. And here we are.”
I wasn’t sure what to think about what Herbert was telling me. I wasn’t sure whether to believe him. Which was why it was handy that I had my truth serum. I could use it at last, and I could find out the truth—whether it was the truth I wanted to hear or not.
I started to undo the lid. But truth be told, I felt rather weak myself, rather woozy. Like the surprise of this discovery—as much as I half-expected it—was taking its toll.
But I needed to buy some time. I needed to be smart.
“So where’s this product of yours going, anyway?”
“That’s not your business, with all due respect. But look at it from a realistic standpoint, please. I’m not supplying anything too dangerous. I’m just providing a service. It’s another source of income. Some people think this stuff should be legal, anyway. So it’s not like I’m really doing anything criminal.”
“Wow,” I said.
“What?”
“It’s just for a moment there, it looked like you were trying to actually justify the whole, y’know, being a murderous drug dealer masquerading as a golden boy entrepreneur thing.”
Herbert shook his head. “One thing you need to understand about business, Stella, is that sometimes, you need to make bold actions in order to stay at the top of the food chain.”
“I don’t need a lecture on business, Herbert. I run one. And the last time I checked, I hadn’t killed anyone, sold any drugs or done anything mildly criminal. So each to their own.”
Herbert smirked. He shook his head. “Always so clever, Stella. Always so… intuitive. I often wondered if there was something different about you
. Like, you have a sort of intuition that nobody else has.”
“You’d be surprised if you heard the full story,” I said.
He smiled again. Crowbar by his side. “I didn’t kill Andy Carter. Whether you believe it or not… that’s the truth. But I’ll tell you one thing. One thing you have to listen to very closely.”
He stood over me, crowbar raised now.
“I made a promise to stop anyone who got in my way. So that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
And before I could move, the crowbar came flying down.
Chapter 32
I saw the crowbar flying down towards me, and this time, I didn’t have time to leap out of its way.
Time felt like it slowed down to a halt. My surroundings receded into the background. It felt like I lost all my sense of place, all my sense of sound, all my sense of… well, everything.
And in that instant, it felt like my life flashed before me. I know it’s a cliche, but it’s a true one, an accurate one. I saw myself growing up as a kid. I saw the pain I felt when I lost my mum. I saw my frustrated teen years, my uni years, trying to wrap my head around my abilities without being able to use them freely. I saw last year, when everything came to a head, and the year since.
I saw all these things and in this instant, in this sole instant, something happened.
I wasn’t sure how it happened. I wasn’t sure what took over me. But it was much like the other times when I’d got caught up in my powers, in my abilities.
It made the crowbar stop before it could hit me.
It made it hold itself in the air, right there, solid and unmoving.
I saw the look on Herbert’s face. The look of bewilderment. Like he didn’t understand what was happening, or how it was happening.
I looked him in the eye and I raised my eyebrows. “I told you. There’s a lot about me you don’t understand.”
And then I sent the crowbar flying back against his head.
He flew back across the room. I felt a burst of energy surge from myself; energy from deep within, like I was delving into my reserves. If only I knew how to delve into these reserves on demand…
But hey. That was another problem for another time.
I stood up. Walked over towards Herbert. Because I felt surging with energy now. I felt empowered. I felt—
A pain.
A solid, sharp pain, right in the middle of my stomach.
I bent over, winded. I didn’t know what’d hit me until I saw the crowbar lying right in front of me.
Damn it. That was one thing I had to work on—not getting carried away.
Herbert was on his feet again. He was walking towards me, rage in his eyes. If I’d been hoping my show of magic might’ve calmed him down somewhat, I was wrong—it looked like exactly the opposite was happening.
“You witch,” he said. And he said it with venom like he knew; like he understood. “You absolute w—”
But his punch fell short.
It fell short, again.
It hung there, dangled in mid-air. And I saw the bemusement on his face once again. The bewilderment. Like the first time could’ve been a fluke, but this… this…
This was something different entirely. I could see from the look in his eyes that he understood that all too well.
I focused on his fist with the deepest reserves of my mind. I felt it squeezing tight. And I knew I had the power to crush it, right here, if I really put my mind to it. I knew I could crack every bone in his hand like an egg.
But I had something else in mind.
He looked at me, rage in his eyes.
“What… what are you?”
“Sorry,” I said, standing square on to him, reciting the spell in my mind. “I don’t have time to talk.”
Then I did two things.
Two things in one.
First, I said the words that paralysed him. Dangerous. Risky. Could potentially be disastrous.
But right now I had the confidence to try anything.
And then I opened the lid of the truth serum and threw it right in Herbert’s face.
He struggled at first. Winced from side to side.
And then I held my focus on him, held my energy on him, and then it happened.
He froze.
Every muscle in his body went still.
Every bone in his body went rigid.
Everything froze except for his mouth, and his eyes.
“What…” he started.
“You don’t have to ask any questions,” I said. “I’m the only one who has to ask any questions. All you have to do is relax. All you have to do is comply. Do you understand?”
There looked like there was some resistance on Herbert’s face, just for a few seconds. And I wondered whether I wasn’t strong enough after all. Whether I didn’t have the drive or resolve to be able to do this.
But no.
I just had to focus.
I just had to believe…
“Do you understand?” I said, tightening my grip.
“Yes,” Herbert said.
The resistance had faded from his body. The tension had slipped from his face entirely.
I took a few deep breaths, calmed myself, got myself into the zone.
“Good,” I said. “Then you’re going to answer me openly and honestly, okay?”
A little more resistance on his face. Then a nod. “Yes.”
“Did you kill Andy Carter?” Didn’t see any harm in cutting straight to the point.
“No,” Herbert said. It was laboured. Forced. I felt like he was battling with himself; like the truth serum didn’t have a grip on him entirely.
I took a deep breath in through my nose. “I’ll ask you again. Did you—”
“And you’ll get the same answer,” he said.
I swallowed a lump in my throat. Somehow it seemed like Herbert was telling me the truth. Somehow…
“I told you the truth about the drugs. I told you the truth about the deal. I told you the truth about Andy Carter’s involvement, and my desire to take him out of the picture. But that’s all you need to know. That’s everything.”
“You mean to say you aren’t hiding anything else?”
Herbert Young did something unexpected then. Something I hadn’t seen coming.
He looked right into my eyes and he smiled.
“We all have our secrets. Don’t we, Stella?”
I saw blue lights, then. I saw flashing, and I heard sirens. And I knew right away that my police call had been received. That they were on their way over here, and that soon they were going to be upon us and my chance to garner some more truth was going to be up.
“Why can’t you just be honest with me?” I shouted, squaring up to him.
Herbert’s smile didn’t shift. His body seemed to be getting floppier, more relaxed. He kept his focus on me at all times, his smile unwavering. “Because… because perhaps you aren’t as strong as you think you are.”
And then his eyes closed and he collapsed onto the floor.
I stepped back as the police doors shut. As the footsteps approached the house. I looked down at the floor and I tried to feel a sense of accomplishment about what I’d done. I tried to feel a sense of achievement. Because I’d done it. I’d accomplished what I wanted to accomplish. I’d cracked this whole operation.
Hadn’t I?
“You’re finished,” I said.
But there was no confidence to it.
There was no self-assurance to it.
The police stepped into the house.
Surrounded the lounge.
And as Herbert Young lay there, whether I liked it or not, I knew my time here was done.
Chapter 33
I’m sorry, Stella. But there’s some ways your story doesn’t completely… well. Add up.”
I scratched the back of my head as I stood outside the Roanokes. The air was cold; the road was slippery. The police lights lit up the night sky, hiding the stars from view. My body shook, the ad
renaline of the stand-off with Herbert still fresh in my mind, still hard to deal with. My mouth was dry, my head ached, and I knew damn well I needed a good drink of water—or something stronger—and a good rest. Or something stronger.
But as I stood here, naturally DI Steve Burke had questions. And they were some of the most difficult questions to answer of all. I had to play this right, or I knew I could land myself in a lot of trouble, too.
“I mean… you claim you just happened to be walking down here, and that you just happened to see a light in one of these buildings. So instead of walking on, you came over to investigate. Where you say you happened to find a briefcase full of drugs. And then Herbert Young—who you claim just happened to be involved in a drugs operation—just happened to attack you?”
I shrugged and nodded. “That just happens to sound about right.”
Steve looked at his notebook—even though I’d already seen he did nothing more than doodle in there. “See, Herbert tells it differently.”
“Well he would, wouldn’t he?”
“He’s in quite a state.”
“Boo hoo.”
“He claims you used some sorcery to paralyse him somehow. And then you threw something at his face, and for some reason he couldn’t help telling the truth about things.”
I smirked. Forced a laugh. Shook my head. “Have you ever heard as much rubbish in your life?”
“Hmm. That’s what I thought. Then I remembered that you’re Stella Storm. And as much as I don’t believe in any of that hooey… you have been known to do some rather… well, unconventional things, shall we say?”
I sighed. Looked at the floor. If he mentioned that clown outfit again, I’d go apeshit.
“Just tell me the truth, Stella. You can’t be punished for telling the truth. Well. You can. Sort of. If the truth’s criminal. But—”
“Yeah, you’re not really selling this whole truth-telling thing to me right now.”
He smirked. “I’ve never been all that good with words.”
I found myself smiling back. And in the glow of the police lights, something came over me. Something possessed me.
“I questioned a few of the suspects in the Andy Carter case,” I said.
