The Colour of the Soul

by Richard T. Burke

  His search began with the drawer of the bedside cabinet. He rummaged through the jumbled collection of objects, uncovering various pieces of cheap jewellery and an old mobile phone. He clicked the power button, but the battery was totally dead. Nevertheless, he threw it into the bag.

  Next, he turned to the chest of drawers. He pulled open the top left and inspected the contents: bras and knickers. The right side contained several pairs of socks. The two below that held other items of clothing including T-shirts and leggings. He focused his attention on the tall wooden wardrobe, but it provided nothing further to stir his curiosity.

  He stood in the centre of the room and pivoted in a circle. Satisfied he hadn’t missed anything, he grabbed the sports bag and headed to the next bedroom. A different set of wall decorations greeted him, but otherwise, it was almost an identical copy of the first. He repeated the search of drawer contents. One item caught his eye, and he added it to his haul.

  After performing a cursory inspection of the other upstairs rooms, he headed back to the kitchen. Before leaving, he withdrew his phone and scrolled down the list of contacts. He spoke for a couple of minutes then hung up, a malicious grin occupying his face.

  Chapter 35

  Annalise ambled along the hotel corridor. Her hair hung down in stringy, damp clumps, and her clothes clung to her skin where she hadn’t dried herself properly. She planned to take a hot shower in the comfort of her own bathroom.

  As she passed her parents’ room, the door opened and her father stuck his head out. An anxious frown creased his forehead. “We were beginning to wonder where you’d got to.”

  “I just needed to do something. I couldn’t stay cooped up in here, so I went for a swim.”

  “We were worried.”

  Annalise shrugged. “I thought that was the whole point. You know: go away somewhere where he can’t find us.”

  Dan hesitated. He locked eyes with his daughter. “The police called.”

  “What did they want?”

  He exhaled loudly. “They had some bad news.”

  The blood drained from Annalise’s face. “What happened?”

  “Apparently somebody burgled the house. Mrs Anderson, our neighbour, noticed that the side door was wide open. She went round and saw that the lock had been forced, so she called the police.”

  “Do they think it was ...?”

  “They’re not sure. There’s a team there now checking the place over. They want me to see if I can identify what’s been taken.”

  “Can I come with you?”

  “Is that a good idea? You’ve been through a lot these last few days. Wouldn’t you be better staying here?”

  Annalise frowned. “If this is about me, then I’m the best person to check if anything important is missing. Anyway, didn’t you just say a police team was there? He’s hardly likely to try again if that’s the case, is he?”

  Dan chewed his bottom lip. “I need to have a chat with your mother. She was going to come back with me, but I don’t want to leave Beatrice here by herself.”

  Annalise followed him inside the room. It was a carbon copy of her own, even down to the framed prints hanging on the wall. The television was on, but the sound was muted. Her mother and sister sat beside each other on the bed. She noticed they were holding hands. Beatrice released her grip and drew apart at her sister’s approach.

  “We didn’t know where you were.” Sophie's eyes were puffy, and it was clear she had been crying.

  “Yeah, sorry. I should have told you,” Annalise replied.

  Dan rubbed his face. Worry lines creased his forehead. “Annalise wants to come with us. I think we should all go together.”

  Sophie stood. She withdrew a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose loudly. “Let’s get moving then.”

  “Aren’t we going to pack our stuff?” Beatrice asked, also rising to her feet.

  “No,” Dan said. “We don’t know when they’ll finish, and until they catch him, we’re probably safer here.”

  Annalise dropped the towel and swimming costume on the floor. She wrapped her arms around her mother and pulled her in close. They held the embrace for several seconds until Annalise broke away. “Give me a sec. I just want to dump this wet stuff in my room.”

  Two minutes later she returned with a fresh towel draped across her shoulders and the smell of chlorine still lingering on her skin. The four members of the family trooped along the corridor, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. They descended the flight of stairs and passed through the reception area. It was a short walk through the well-tended grounds to the car park.

  The journey was uneventful, all the occupants of the vehicle lost in their own thoughts. As they turned into the tree-lined avenue, the police presence was immediately visible; a grey BMW sat on the drive beside Sophie’s Vauxhall Corsa, and a police van occupied the pavement blocking them in. Dan reversed into a space on the opposite side of the road.

  “Do we just let ourselves in or what?” he asked as they walked through the narrow gate.

  Nobody answered his question. As they drew closer, the front door swung open, and a man wearing a white jumpsuit emerged. The hood was drawn over his head. A cotton mask covered his face. “Who are ...? Oh right, you’re the Beckers, I assume.”

  Dan nodded. “Yes. Can we come in?”

  “Just wait here a second. I’ll fetch the DCI.” The man turned and retraced his steps, leaving the door open behind him. A minute later, another white-coated figure emerged. Annalise angled her gaze away and took in the familiar pale green swirl of colour: Billings. He pulled back the head covering and lowered the facemask. If anything, he looked more unkempt than the previous evening. A tuft of hair stood up above one ear, and the stubble on his chin was darker. He held out a blue-gloved hand then glanced down awkwardly at the thin rubber material and withdrew it.

  “They’ve nearly finished,” the detective said. “We’ll be taking a few things away to examine in more detail. You’ll all need to provide fingerprints so we can rule those out. I’d also like you to supply a list of people who have visited the house recently together with their contact details.”

  “Do you think it was ... you know ... him?” Annalise asked, annoyed at herself for the quiver in her voice.

  Billings shrugged. “I doubt we’ll find out one way or the other until we catch him. Even if it was your attacker, it's unlikely he would have left any fingerprints behind, but we’re going to check anyway. Judging by what appears to have been taken, I’d say it looks like a typical burglary. Your neighbour said a plumbing van was parked outside. She thought nothing of it until they drove off, and the door was still open.”

  Dan frowned. “Mrs Anderson seems to know everything that goes on around here. If it was a plumber’s van, didn’t she remember the company name?”

  “I’m afraid not, but we had a call a few minutes ago from one of our officers saying they’d discovered a burnt out vehicle matching the description on some waste ground not far from here. My guess is we’ll find it was stolen then used for the burglary. Let’s face it, if you’re planning to burgle a place, you’re hardly going to advertise your name on the side, are you?”

  “What do you want us to do then?” Dan asked.

  Billings ran a hand over his stubble. “We can start by getting those fingerprints done. By the time that’s finished, you should be able to confirm what’s missing.” He led them along the hallway. A bright flash of light came from the study. A white-coated man backed out of the doorway holding up a camera. He retreated into the room to allow them to pass. They trooped through into the kitchen. All the cupboard doors were open. Broken crockery mingled with pots and pans, lay strewn over the tiles in a disorganised mess. Sophie wrapped her arms across her chest and sighed at the scene of destruction.

  The man who had opened the door several minutes earlier stood chatting to another colleague. “Pete, before you leave, can you scan the residents’ fingerprints?” Billings asked. />
  “No problem, sir.” The man leaned down to extract a black plastic box from his toolkit.

  “I’ll be back in a minute or two,” Billings said, turning away.

  The man stepped over a large casserole dish and moved to the wooden table, one of the few areas where the floor was relatively clear. He placed the device on the surface and prodded a gloved finger at the button in the centre. A small display lit up.

  Dan bent down to examine the scanner. “I was expecting ink.”

  “This is far more efficient,” the man replied, “and much less messy. They rolled them out across the region last year. We can upload the data to the servers straight away.”

  The policeman tapped at the keypad then asked the family members one by one to place their fingers on the scanning surface. As each print was taken, he inspected the imprint on the inbuilt screen. He had scanned all but Annalise’s left hand when Billings returned.

  The DCI waited impatiently for his colleague to complete the task. When the last fingerprint had been recorded, he marched through the hall into the lounge.

  All that remained of the television was a dust-free patch on the black glass stand. Similar marks on the shelves below indicated where the Blu-ray player and the satellite box had rested. The music system cabinet was also an empty shell. The intruder had swept all the ornaments off the mantelpiece, leaving the shattered remnants on the tiles of the fire surround.

  “Well obviously the TV and the various associated boxes that go with it aren’t there,” Dan said, hands on hips. “You don’t need to be a detective to work out the sound system has gone too.”

  “Was there anything valuable here?” Billings asked, gesturing to the broken figures.

  Sophie stared at the fragments of porcelain. For a moment it seemed as if she was about to cry until she visibly shook herself and looked up at the policeman. “Not really. It was mostly of sentimental value.”

  “Right. Let’s have a look in the study.”

  The four members of the family trailed Billings as he crossed the hallway. The room was too small for all of them to enter, so the others waited outside while Dan and Billings surveyed the devastation. Once again, a dust-free spot signalled where the monitor had once stood. A rectangular outline on the carpet below the desk marked the previous location of the missing base unit. The bookshelves had been swept bare leaving books and papers scattered across every square inch of the floor.

  Dan shook his head. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, and he rummaged through the pile.

  “What are you looking for?” Billings asked, his brow creased in consternation.

  Dan rose to his feet clutching a scruffy blue notebook. “Thank God they didn’t find this. It contains all the login details for my online shopping accounts.”

  Billings tutted. “Not the most secure way of storing sensitive information really, is it? If your browser keeps a track of any passwords, I'd recommend you change them immediately. Let’s take a look at the dining room.”

  When they pushed the door open, it revealed a similar tale of ruin. All the crockery from the cupboard had been spread over the floor, the vast majority of it shattered and broken.

  Billings led the way upstairs. The first bedroom they entered was Annalise’s. All the drawers had been dragged out and their contents dumped on the carpet. She stared at the mess for a few seconds before speaking. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to tell you what’s missing without tidying up.” She picked up an ornate wooden box that lay open on its side. A resigned look crossed her face. “I can already see they’ve taken all my jewellery though.”

  Sophie’s hand shot to her mouth, unable to hold back a cry of distress. “Oh no, my mother’s engagement ring.”

  “I’ll need you to make a list of any stolen items so we can keep an eye out for them,” Billings said. “It might enable us to track down the culprit, and you’ll have to do it for the insurance company anyway. You are insured, aren’t you?”

  Dan nodded. “Yes.”

  “If there are any identifying marks or serial numbers for anything that’s been taken, it will make the job of recovering them easier.”

  The other two bedrooms were in a similar state to the first. The only items identified as missing were those of obvious value. When they had completed the survey of the house, the family followed the detective down the stairs.

  “Do you think it’s safe to stay here?” Dan asked.

  “I'm not so sure that’s a good idea. I can give you some contacts for people to mend the door. If I were you, I’d wait for them to do the repairs and come back to tidy it all up tomorrow.”

  Dan took out his mobile phone and made a note of the number Billings gave him. A few minutes later, the policemen departed.

  In all the confusion, the absence of the iPad went unnoticed. Six miles away, the man who called himself Steven studied the screen and smiled to himself.

  Chapter 36

  Annalise prodded the bacon across the plate with her fork. Lack of sleep had diminished her appetite. The others had gone up to their rooms, and she sat alone at the breakfast table. After calling the repair company the previous night, it had taken nearly two hours for somebody to arrive. While the family waited, they made a start at tidying up the mess. The broken crockery filled three bin bags, and the list of missing items already ran to five pages of her father’s notebook. Despite their efforts, it looked like it would still take most of the following morning to restore the house to any semblance of order. The mindless destruction reduced her mother to tears several times during the cleanup.

  By the time they left to return to the hotel, it was already after ten thirty, so they had stopped on the way to pick up a Chinese takeaway. The food did little to lift the air of despondency that filled the car during the journey. The idea of strangers pawing through their possessions made them all feel contaminated. Their dejection was exacerbated by the uncertainty over the perpetrator’s identity. Was it just a random burglary, or did it relate to the attack?

  Annalise had lain awake until the early hours of the morning, her brain churning over the events since waking from the coma. Why had the man selected her? Was it really tied to Mark? She eventually succumbed to an exhausted sleep just as the first hints of dawn tinged the horizon.

  The shrill tone of the bedside telephone slammed her back into wakefulness, her heart hammering against her chest. Her mother wanted to know whether she was joining them for breakfast. The restaurant finished serving in half an hour, so she rose reluctantly and made it downstairs with five minutes to spare. She would have liked to stay in bed longer, but she was due to visit the hypnotherapist at ten o’clock.

  Placing the fork on the plate, she reached for the coffee cup. She shuddered as the lukewarm liquid passed her lips. For a moment, she thought about asking for a refill, but the serving staff studiously ignored her, seemingly fully preoccupied with clearing the other tables. Instead, she picked up the half-full glass of orange juice. The cool sweetness jolted her taste buds after the bitter flavour of the coffee. She stretched out for one of the two remaining pieces of toast propped up in the metal holder. The triangle felt cold and soggy in her hands, and she soon changed her mind.

  At least today, she might get some answers. Her parents had agreed to drop her off at the hypnotherapist’s house on the way back home. The woman had allocated a one-hour time slot for the initial consultation, and her father would pick Annalise up afterwards. He had finally made contact with the solicitors earlier that morning and had scheduled a fifteen-minute meeting to review the police documentation. The two sessions coincided, so Annalise couldn’t attend both.

  She glanced at her watch. There was just long enough to return to her room, pack, and be at reception by the agreed time. The heavy chair scraped against the polished wooden floor as she pushed it back and rose to her feet. She was regaining her strength. Despite the improvement in her condition, she still planned to take the lift.

  ***

 
Nineteen minutes later, the satellite navigation system announced they were nearing their destination as they turned down the tree-lined avenue of Victorian houses.

  “Twenty-four, twenty-six ... here we are. Twenty-eight Leopold Street.” Dan eased the vehicle to a halt in front of the wrought iron gates. “Do you need a hand?”

  Annalise let herself out. “I think I can manage.”

  “We’ll just wait here until you’re in safely.”

  She opened the side gate. The path led to an impressive semi-detached property with high bay windows. A BMW i3 sat on the gravel driveway. She lifted the brass knocker and rapped twice on the stained oak door. A figure moved behind the frosted glass and the door swung inwards. A smartly dressed, middle-aged woman in a turquoise blouse and yellow trousers greeted her. She was two inches shorter than Annalise with blue eyes set in an attractive face. Her pale brown hair was tied back in a short ponytail, and her mouth curved in a relaxed smile. “Rachel Haseldene,” she said. “And you must be Annalise.”

  Annalise shook hands then turned and waved towards the car. She watched as it moved away and disappeared from view.

  “Do come in.” The woman stood aside and beckoned for her patient to enter. She closed the door behind Annalise. “It’s important that we aren’t disturbed during our sessions. My husband can be quite noisy when he’s home, so we constructed a purpose-built consulting room in the garden. Let’s go and get you comfortable.”

  Annalise immediately warmed to the hypnotherapist. She stole a surreptitious glance out of the corner of her eye. The faint orange glow around the woman’s head confirmed her first impressions.

  The woman strolled down the polished wood hallway until they reached a glass framed door. She turned the key protruding from the lock and led the way through a walled garden along a stone-paved path towards a small wooden building. She fished in her pocket for another bunch of keys, unlocked the door, and held it open for Annalise.