Beyond Evidence

by Emma L. Clapperton

  The living room was decorated a teal blue colour, with a large glass lampshade hanging from the ceiling. There were several photo frames in different parts of the room all containing family photographs, all of which contained Angela either hugging another person or posing for the camera. There were a few of her in a graduation gown too.

  Mrs Noble had been crying when Preston and Lang were upstairs and when they appeared in the room below, Preston was surprised to see that every single photo frame was lying on the floor.

  Mrs Noble was no longer crying but instead she stared at each one, all face down on the brown shag pile carpet. Her expression was one of shock with a hint of a smile, but only noticeable if one were to be looking for a smile.

  "What happened here? Are you alright Mrs Noble?" It was Lang who spoke.

  "I came down to hand back the belongings and all I could hear was banging, it was light but they were coming fast," Patrick said.

  Lang looked up and could see that the bulb was missing from the glass shade hanging down from the ceiling. He moved his eyes down to see if he could place the bulb, only to find it smashed on the carpet.

  "It was Angela, my girl. She was here," Mrs Noble said in a small trembling voice.

  "What?" Preston felt disbelief.

  "Did you witness this?" Lang asked Patrick.

  "Yes, I walked in to see what the noise was and Mrs Noble was standing in corner of the room watching the frames falling over. The bulb smashed in its place in the shade and the glass fluttered down, almost like a feather." Even Patrick sounded stunned by the happenings.

  "I think we should get this cleaned up," Preston walked over to Mrs Noble, still standing in the corner of the room, still staring at the frames on the floor. "Mrs Noble, I think we should clear up the glass," he took her gently by the arm.

  Preston led Mrs Noble out of the room and Patrick looked around the room, as if he were looking for anything else that may be out of place.

  "What has actually happened here?" Lang almost whispered.

  "Angela's spirit didn't fully leave our presence by the looks of it, seems as if she wanted her mum to know that she is still here." Patrick said.

  "Uh cut the crap Patrick, you sure she hasn't just gone nuts?"

  "How the hell can you be so insensitive? Would you say that if it was your dad?" Patrick snapped back.

  "Don't you dare bring my personal stuff into this Patrick, all I am saying is this all looks a little staged."

  Patrick couldn't quite believe that Lang was saying this, how could he think such a thing? "Tell me, what would she get out of doing something like this? I mean really, she would only be lying to herself. And anyway, I saw it happen."

  "Did you?"

  "Oh so you think I'm lying now? So what's the point in me being here then if that's the case?" Patrick was beginning to lose his temper just as Preston returned with a dustpan and brush.

  "What is the problem here?" Preston said as he closed the door behind him.

  "Ask your colleague here, I'm going to wait in the car," Patrick replied. "Is Mrs Noble ok?" he asked just before leaving.

  "Yeah, she is fine, she is having a cigarette at the back door," Preston replied as he bent down to sweep up the glass from the bulb.

  Patrick nodded in satisfaction at the answer and left the house, he couldn't bare to be around Lang another minute, he was being so unreasonable at the current situation and it was all Patrick could do not to punch him in the mouth.

  As he waited in the car outside, he thought about Angela. He rewound his memory to when Mrs Noble was stood in the corner of the room watching the frames falling to the carpet, one by one. She watched as if she were watching somebody make their way around her living room knocking the frames down.

  That's what Patrick had done. He watched Angela knock the frames down, not in anger, but in desperation. She was trying desperately to tell the people who were alive and around her, who they were looking for. Not just Angela but Rebecca and Michelle were too. However the eyes of those who needed to see were clouded by the black mist that emanated from that one person that nobody had uncovered yet.

  All the while, Patrick was being stared in the face by that black mist, every moment, every blink of the eye, every word exchanged, that mist was getting thicker and nobody could see through it!

  Thirty

  Taking a break

  The short car journey to the cafe was silent. Preston felt like the situation had to be cooled off before any conversation took place. Lang didn't know what to say to either Preston or Patrick, mainly because he knew that Patrick was a genuine medium, which annoyed him because up until recent events he hadn't believed in spirits at all. Now he felt like he had been forced to believe it, after all it was proven to him on a personal note, but for some reason unknown to him, Patrick hadn't come up with anything sufficient to work on.

  Patrick was just too angry to speak to anyone in case he said something he would regret. He was so angry at Lang's attitude towards him and his involvement in the case, he was trying his best to get as much spiritual evidence as he could for those girls and all Lang could do was criticize and make snide comments.

  The car pulled up outside a small cafe on Hyndland Road, near the centre of the West End. It was early afternoon by now and there was a break in the clouds as the sun shone through. There were little steel tables and chairs neatly arranged outside the cafe and the smell of fresh coffee and bread seemed to relax them as they got out of the car.

  "You two go in and order, I'll grab us a table, I need a cigarette," Patrick said.

  "Do you want a coffee?" Lang asked.

  Patrick almost didn't want to answer him, he still felt so angry. "Yes please," he replied through gritted teeth.

  As Preston and Lang were inside ordering their coffee's Patrick lit his cigarette and he instantly felt the nicotine spread through his veins, calming him. He knew that it was a psychological thing to feel the nicotine calming his nerves and his anger, but for now he would enjoy that feeling. As he drew on the tip, he watched the bustle of Hyndland Road pass him by. He watched people going about their daily routines, picking up groceries, meeting friends.... enjoying simple carefree days. Patrick couldn't remember what it was like to have carefree days. He watched every male figure that passed him. He pictured each one of them as the black silhouette in his dream.

  He could be anyone, anywhere.

  Why can I not figure this out? He was shouting inwardly as he searched his mind for anything that would help switch the bulb on in his head.

  Preston and Lang appeared at the table with a tray of hot coffees and some shortbread. They sat down and for a few moments the only thing that passed their lips was the coffee and shortbread.

  "Patrick, I'm sorry for acting like..."

  "An arse?" Patrick abruptly finished Lang's sentence for him.

  "Easy, I was going to say for acting like an idiot," Lang replied.

  "I think we should use Patrick's word," Preston laughed as he blew in to his coffee, which broke the tension.

  "I really am sorry though, I think we all got a little stressed out back there, not being able to figure out those messages and then seeing all of those picture frames being scattered everywhere. I suppose I freaked out a bit," Lang said.

  "Finally, you admit that it scares you," Patrick said triumphantly.

  "Is that what the problem has been with you two all of this time? Jim's a big girl's blouse?" Preston was laughing loudly now.

  "Aye, alright let’s not get carried away here, let's just get to the point of why we're having this coffee break. Patrick you wanted to talk to us more about Jodie?" Lang was desperately but modestly trying to shift the subject on to something else.

  Patrick and Preston carried on laughing for a few more moments which happened to relax them all. It had been a frustrating day and Lang's fear had broken the tension, much to his annoyance. Patrick and Preston composed themselves, allowing the laughter to subside while Lang sat quietly,
waiting for the joke at his expense to be over.

  "Ok," Patrick took a breath. "I was actually going to ask if I could take a week or so off from the case."

  "You want to take time off now?" Preston asked, any trace of smile had now left him.

  "Yes now. I need to take Jodie away from this for a while. Help her to clear her head, calm herself down." Patrick understood Preston's frustration but was firm with his words.

  "I think that would be the best thing for all of us to be honest," Lang said.

  Patrick looked at Lang, shocked at his words. "You agree with me?"

  "Yes as a matter of fact I do. We all know that the lack of evidence on our side of the case is not looking good and you said yourself that stress can stop your senses from working properly. If Jodie is having problems, then obviously it is going to have an affect on you."

  What Lang said was completely true, Patrick just couldn't believe that he was the one saying it instead of Preston.

  "I've got to say I'm a little surprised that you are the one that is supporting me on this."

  "Well, if you go away for a while, then come back with a clear head maybe you will actually come up with something feasible that we can investigate further," Lang said.

  "No offence meant, I'm presuming?" Patrick raised one eyebrow.

  "Not at all, you said yourself that you were stumped by those messages back at the Nobles household."

  "I was. I still am. But I'm sure that I will be able to find something, even if it is just a small thing, to work with. I am sure I can help catch this guy. I just need a week to rest my mind and help Jodie to rest hers."

  Preston was quiet for a while. He listened to Patrick as he talked about where he was taking Jodie and how he was going to look after her.

  "How did you manage to get a cottage in Loch Lomond?" Lang asked.

  "My great Auntie owned it, left it to my Mum when she died. It's the perfect getaway, it overlooks the loch and it has a huge garden with decking and a built in barbecue."

  "A cottage, you sure it's not a mansion overlooking the loch?" Lang laughed.

  "I know. I don't know why we don't use it more often. When this is all over, you two should come down and see it."

  As they finished their drinks and paid the bill, Preston finally spoke, "As long as it will be no more than a week. I understand that you have things that you need to sort out, but so do we. We have a murderer on the loose, I just want to catch him before someone else is killed."

  Patrick suddenly felt guilty, he felt like he was abandoning everything to go on holiday.

  "It's not as if it's a five star luxury cruise I'm leaving for, I will definitely be back in a week, I promise."

  Preston knew that he couldn't force Patrick to stay. It wasn't as if he was an actual police officer or getting paid for what he was doing. As far as the press were concerned it was a police matter and that was all there was too it. Although, Preston felt uneasy about letting Patrick walk out at this particular moment he knew there was pretty much nothing he could do about it. He knew that because of the lack of physical evidence and witnesses to the murders of Angela, Rebecca and Michelle, that unless Patrick worked it out spiritually, the case had absolutely no chance of justice.

  "I know you will. I hope a Jodie gets better," Preston said, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

  Thirty One

  A close friend

  As Patrick opened the door he heard Jodie talking to someone. She was speaking quietly and in short sentences, almost like she was speaking with someone she was not supposed to. "I don't know what to do," she said, almost whispering.

  Patrick made his way into the kitchen, where he could hear her voice. As he opened the door, he was surprised to see Mark standing there.

  "What are you doing here?" Patrick said, failing to hide the surprise in his tone.

  "Hi Patrick, I bumped into Jodie in town earlier when I was out and she asked me back."

  Patrick was happy that she hadn't been alone all day, having someone to talk to would have helped take her mind off things.

  "You don't know what to do about what?" Patrick asked Jodie.

  "About the sleeping pills, I don't want to end up relying on them."

  "You won't Jodie, the doctor will be able to lower the dosage in a controlled way so that you don't become addicted. You need them to help you sleep after everything that's happened."

  "I told Jodie what we talked about at work the other day. Honestly, your secret is safe with me, I won't tell a soul." Mark smiled.

  "Uh, I hope you don't mind Jodie, I was just so worried about you I had to get it off my chest."

  Jodie walked over to the kitchen door and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him gently on the mouth. "Honestly babe, it’s ok. It's good to talk about things when you're worried instead of bottling it all up."

  Mark turned away from the couple's moment of affection, inwardly smiling at his own presence.

  All three made their way to the living room and Patrick sat down next to the balcony doors.

  "So, what have you two been doing with yourselves then?" Mark asked.

  "Well, actually I have something to tell Jodie," Patrick said.

  "What?" Jodie asked curiously.

  Patrick smiled, "What would you say to a country break?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "You remember Auntie Beth, my mums Auntie?"

  Jodie smiled nervously, not knowing what was coming next, "Yes, what about her?"

  "Well, you know she left the cottage to my mum in her will? What would you say to a trip down to Loch Lomond for a week?"

  Jodie's smile widened and she looked at Mark. "Did you know about this?"

  "Me? Not at all, it sounds good though," Mark smiled at Jodie.

  "Are you being serious? What about the case?"

  Patrick moved to be beside Jodie, he held her hand and looked in to her tired eyes, seeing how exhausted she was, all the while being oblivious to the fact that the reason for this was sitting in the room with them.

  "I've sorted it with Preston and Lang. I've told them that I'm taking you away for the week. You need to rest, I need to rest and recharge myself. We need some time together, just the two of us. Just think how nice it is there at this time of year, we can sit out on the decking watching the sun rise above the hills. We can relax in the fresh Scottish air and not have to worry about anyone else but ourselves, for a week anyway."

  Jodie was quiet for a few moments as she regarded this. It did sound amazing, peaceful and almost tranquil. Will I be able to shut out everything though, just because I'm not in Glasgow? She asked herself.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by Mark’s voice. "If that doesn't sell it to you then I don't know what will."

  Patrick laughed at this, all the while never taking his eyes off of Jodie. All he could think about was how much he wanted to take her away, make her happy again and take away her worry and stress.

  Their relationship had lost out to the case in the last few weeks. They hadn't had a normal conversation, hadn't sat down to a meal together and they hadn't been intimate with each other in weeks. Patrick just wanted to get them back on track as they were so in love with each other and always had been. An outsider's perspective looking in at the relationship wouldn't have known this in recent weeks due to the circumstances.

  "Well?" Patrick anticipated.

  "Ok, let’s go," she smiled.

  As Patrick hugged Jodie, Mark stood up and went into the kitchen again. He thought about them going away for the week and how it would affect his plan. Just then, Patrick came in behind him. "Sorry mate, you must be feeling like a spare part just now."

  Mark laughed. "No, I'm in the way here. I'll get going," he picked up his coat from the bar stool in the kitchen.

  "Thanks," Patrick said.

  "No worries, I know when I'm getting in the way of you know what." Mark gave a cheeky smile.

  "No, I mean for listening to me the other night and not judgin
g me, or Jodie for that matter."

  "Hey, what are friends for?" Mark patted him on the shoulder.

  As Patrick saw Mark to the door, Patrick picked up a leaflet for private hire cottages and lodges in the country.

  "I meant to show you this. It's a leaflet for the cottage, just thought you would like to see it." Patrick handed Mark the leaflet.

  "I thought you said your Auntie Beth used to own it and now it belongs to your mum?"

  "Yeah she did own it before she and my dad died, then it was left to me. But it is in Lomond Park with other cottages and lodges and I rent it out through the year, but it is free for the next two weeks."

  "Well, looks like you'll both have a great time. So, I'll see you in a week then?" Mark said.

  "Looks like it. Enjoy work, hope it's not too mad while I'm away," Patrick smiled.

  "Oh I'm sure I'll manage without you. The ladies will keep me busy I'm sure," Mark smiled a cheeky smile, the meaning behind it only known to him.

  As Mark walked down the stairs of the landing, he looked at the leaflet Patrick had given him. He hadn't meant to leave the flat with it still in his hand, he had genuinely forgotten to hand it back. Patrick probably hadn't even given it a second thought. Mark made his way across South Street and walked through the underpass of the expressway.

  As he walked silently, a thought entered his mind, a thought that would conclude Ross' plan and hopefully, end the grief that was wearing away his very soul.

  As he walked along the busy street towards his own flat, Mark pulled out a letter from his back pocket. It was the letter from ‘Adoption Contact Scotland,’ the one that had been delivered the day that Billy Turner had been killed falling down those stairs. He sat down on a chair outside of a cafe and read the letter for the hundredth time.

  Dear Mr Turner,

  I write to you with regard to your application of contact with Jeffrey Turner. I am happy to tell you that Mr Turner has responded to our letter and has agreed to meet you in one of our centres.

  It has to be said that your biological brother no longer goes by the legal name of Jeffrey Turner as his adoptive parents changed it when they took him into their care. Jeffrey now goes by the name of Patrick McLaughlin.