by Maggie Mundy
“You need to tell the police what you saw. They can go in there and find DNA or something, and he’ll be locked up.”
“The only reason I know it’s possibly the dead woman from the river, is because of my vision. The police aren’t going to raid Vincent’s house because of that. It’s the same as before. You see that his aura is different. That won’t stand up in court either. I see him killing people and believe he’s as long lived as Seth. The police will just think we’re mad.”
“Maybe they’ll identify her.”
“I doubt it. Before my vision stopped, I was cutting off fingers and her face was so badly beaten.” Cara’s hand went to her mouth to stop herself vomiting.
“You're sick having things like that going through your head. You’ve been watching too much CSI. If you go back there, you’ll end up chopped up like everyone else. By the way, can you explain to me why I’m talking about chopped up bodies so calmly?”
“Do you think I like this? Maybe the police can match any blood in there to her DNA. If Vincent had touched it too, then his DNA will be on it as well. It would give Seps a reason to go in there and hopefully find something else.”
“Do these guys have different DNA than the rest of us?”
“I don’t know. It’s not a subject I happen to have discussed with Seth. The thing is the police wouldn’t have Vincent’s DNA on record. Unless I can convince them he’s involved this is going nowhere. All I have is our visions and auras to get them interested.” Cara paused. “They’ll decide we’re new-age nut-jobs.”
“We need something more,” Matcher said.
“Wait a minute,” Cara said. “Remember the paintings. I bet they are of the women he has killed. He was painting another one, which he wouldn’t let me see. It must be Shona. When I saw her at the morgue, she wasn’t wearing her butterfly ring. She never took it off. I bet he took it as one of his mementoes.” She couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice.
Cara pulled up outside Matcher’s flat. Rachel waited on the front steps, a big bag at her feet. She was crying.
“It looks like she has left home. I’ll call you later.” Matcher got out of the van. “Don’t do anything.” He rushed over and hugged Rachel.
Cara struggled to pull her thoughts together. She managed to remain calm driving home, but as soon as she got into her flat, she started to shake. Vincent really was the killer. She had no doubt of that now. He had killed Shona. Cara shuddered. Somehow, she had to make him pay.
The phone rang when she walked in the door. The sound made her jump. She didn’t answer it. It was Seth. A part of her wanted to pick the receiver up so much. To talk to him was to be near him. Instead, she opted to let the machine take the call and just listened.
“Cara. It’s Seth. I’ve finished fixing the dagger. I will pick you up at five to go to Vincent’s. I reckon we’re close. I truly believe he knows who killed Shona and Rosie.” Click.
The phone rang again. This time she hurried to answer, but it wasn’t Seth. Cara shivered when she heard Vincent’s voice.
“Cara, I’m so sorry I missed you earlier. Stephan said you were unwell. I hope you’re feeling better now?”
“Yes, I’m much better now. I hope you were pleased with the food and service last night.”
“I was more than pleased. I’ve a few people coming this evening about seven. Some are thinking of employing your company, especially one of my associates. I wondered if you could pop in and talk to her.”
“Yes, that would be fine. Can I ask who?”
“Patricia Palmer. A few of my friends phoned her after last night. She wants to meet you. You know what these movie stars are like about their privacy.”
“I’d love to come.”
“I’m expecting them to arrive around seven, so I’ll see you at six then.”
“That will be fine.” She was proud of her calm tone and grateful he couldn’t see how scared she felt as her hands shook.
As soon as she replaced the receiver, she collapsed on the sofa. Merlin came and sat next to her and head-butted her arm. She scratched him. He flopped on her and started purring. His life was so simple. Hers was anything but.
Last night Seth had said he loved her in front of all of her friends. She believed him, but she also knew he had been driven by vengeance for over a hundred years. He needed to find Rosie’s killer and avenge her death.
Cara drew a ragged breath. She had been in his life for such a short space of time. She wanted to believe that love could cut out the past, but it wouldn’t. Seth could not let Rosie’s killer live on, no matter how much he loved her. He was determined to protect society from people like Vincent. And she was just like him, Cara thought. She would not let Shona’s killer live on either. She knew what she needed to do.
Cara didn’t have any nails left by the time she got through to Inspector Seps. She was becoming like Matcher chewing on her nails.
“Ms. O’Donovan, how can I help you?”
“I need to talk to you. I think I may have a lead on who killed Shona. He may also have had something to do with the body you found in the river.”
“If you’d like to come down to the station, then we can take your information.”
“I can’t do that. What I know you can’t put down on an official statement.”
“You’re being very cryptic.”
“All I ask is that you trust me. You may find the killer. If you come to my house at five thirty, I’ll take you to him.”
She watched out the window when Seth pulled up on his bike. It felt like an invisible hand squeezed her heart. It seemed to take forever for him to arrive at her apartment door. When he walked inside, she ran into his arms. The touch of his body against hers almost made her break down and tell him everything. She couldn’t. She had to be strong for both of them.
“If I’d known you were going to miss me this much, I would have come back sooner.”
He gazed down at her. Cara knew that look. It was the one he had when he tried to work out what she was thinking. Maybe, there was a reason she had so many sessions with Jessica. Here he was in front of her, no longer a dream, but all man and all hers. Looking at his face as he gazed into her eyes, she melted. His lips touched hers. The rest of the world drifted away, but it didn’t last.
Seth walked over to the breakfast bar. He put down a cloth wrapped item, the dagger. He wouldn’t be distracted tonight.
“Well, show me then.” She feigned eagerness.
Seth slowly peeled back the cloth, revealing the dagger. He eyed it with such reverence. He was right. It was beautiful but evil. The blade shone where he had polished it and she could make out words etched into it in a foreign language. She shivered as the sense of malevolence reached out for her once again. She would not touch it again if she didn’t have to.
“You’re an artist, like Rembrandt,” Cara said. She didn’t dare touch it. Instead, she stepped closer and stared at the knife again. Her eyes watered at the thought that Vincent would have killed Shona with this. She had to make him pay.
Seth smiled. “He wasn’t appreciated until after he died. I just fixed this, that’s all.” Seth wrapped up the dagger. Leaving it, he picked up the coffee mug Cara placed next to him. He sipped the hot liquid as he walked over to the couch.
Cara sat down next to him. She placed her mug on the table. “How are you going to get him to tell you who ordered the repair?”
Seth laughed, but didn’t answer. It wasn’t reassuring. He stared at the wrapped dagger on the coffee table in front of them. He didn’t speak. How could she know what it must be like to suffer so long? She had to take control.
He might not see it now, but he would later. She did what she had to do because she cared. He finished his coffee, placing the empty mug on the table.
“Seth, ho
w will you make him talk?” Cara asked again.
“I’m not going to risk our lives by going in there and slaughtering him to find out who killed Rosie. He’s my clue. I just need to make him talk.” Seth’s head flopped back on the couch. He looked sideways at her and grinned. “I love your eyes. Have I told you that?”
“No.” She smiled back at him. She hoped he couldn’t see the tears forming.
“I lose myself in your eyes. You make me forget the pain that has lasted too long.” He shook his head and tried to lift it, but failed. “Cara? What have you done?”
He grabbed her hand. His grip weakened as he stared at her. Cara’s eyes watered as she watched a tear flow down his cheek. His eyes closed as he fell asleep.
She snuggled close to him and held on tight as she shook. That was one silver lining to having been depressed and sick. When she couldn’t sleep because of the pain, the doctors prescribed strong sedatives. She had crushed up enough to put an elephant to sleep. It was lucky that he liked sugar so she could cover the bitterness.
She leaned closer, kissing his cheek. “I love you so much, Seth. I didn’t think I could feel this about anyone again. I know you want to find a way to be like the rest of us, but that way I’d lose you forever. You think you need me so much, but I wasn’t really alive until you came along. I know you’ll live on after I go, and I’m being selfish. I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.”
Chapter 24
Inspector Seps waited outside her flat. Fifteen minutes later when she finished her story, he shook his head at her and glanced at his watch.
“Ms. O’Donovan, Cara. I know you’ve been through a rough time recently with the family deaths, and then Shona’s murder. You can’t expect me to believe this. I’ve been up since two this morning dealing with the body we found yesterday. At this moment, my team thinks I’ve gone home to see my sick wife.”
Cara clenched her fists. “I know some bad things have happened but I’m not lying.” This wasn’t going well, surprise, surprise!
“You’re having counseling, aren’t you?” Inspector Seps raised an eyebrow. “Are you taking any drugs that could cause hallucinations?”
“No.” Okay, snapping at the cop isn’t such a good idea right now either.
“So you want me to go in this man’s house and accuse him of being a murderer because you had a vision. You think he paints pictures of dead women and has a book with a dagger in it.” Inspector Seps shook his head. “None of this will stand up in court.”
Well, if he was going to put it that way, then he was right about how crazy all of this sounded.
“If you can get to that room and see if Shona’s picture is there and her ring, then you’ll have proof. I saw a bracelet with the name Melanie in my vision. Do you know the name of the girl who was killed yet?”
“There have been a few names mentioned of missing persons. As yet we haven’t made a definite identification. The name you mentioned piques my interest, but you’re not giving me much to go on.”
“But, you came anyway,” Cara said, slightly irritated.
He nodded, unsmiling. “I’ll give you an hour. After that, I’m headed back to the station. I’m not involving anyone else. Your proof is a bit strange to say the least. If we find anything, I’ll call for back-up.”
When they arrived, Cara rang the doorbell. Vincent answered. His smile disappeared when he saw she was not alone.
“Cara, I wasn’t expecting you to bring someone with you.”
“This is Inspector Seps. I asked him to come. He’s been looking into my cousin’s murder. Boscombe, the man she worked for, mentioned your name. I told Inspector Seps I knew you. I was sure you wouldn’t mind him asking some questions.”
“Of course not, do come in. I’ll be happy to help.”
As Cara expected, no one else was there, not even Stephan. Vincent led them through to his office.
“Please. Take a seat, Inspector. I’m ready to answer anything.”
“Ms. O’Donovan wasn’t quite accurate in what she said. In fact, she made some statements to me today that could indicate you had some involvement in the murder of Shona Williams.”
Vincent glared at Cara for a moment before he regained his composure. She shivered. She was the lamb, he was the lion, and she was in his den. Stay calm, she told herself. She was safe. She had a policeman with her. Vincent was too clever to risk anything.
“There must be some mistake. I don’t believe I ever met her. Cara did mention she had a cousin who worked in Bath, but I never pursued it any further.”
Vincent’s eyes narrowed as he turned towards her. “Cara, I thought we had a professional relationship. Personally, I can’t understand how you could have any grounds to think I could be involved in any way with your cousin’s death.”
“What about the room with paintings of the women you’ve killed?” Cara blurted. She had intended to keep quiet and let the Inspector do the talking, but she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that Vincent would worm his way out of everything. She couldn’t let that happen. He might come after her. Well, Seth had better be a good protector.
“Inspector, I like to paint,” Vincent said. “I can assure you that I don’t paint dead women. This is all very melodramatic, but I’ll be happy to show you my studio.”
Cara followed them upstairs. The room was the same as before with paintings around the walls. One painting was on an easel. It was covered up. Before Vincent could protest, Cara ran over and pulled off the sheet. It wasn’t Shona. In fact it was just a rough sketch and the face was not clearly defined.
Her heart sank. She couldn’t be wrong. She couldn’t. Too much depended on this. Inspector Seps came and stood next to her. Vincent covered up the sketch.
“I think I’ve been very understanding so far. You’ve come into my house. You accused me of being involved in a murder. Now, you touch my private possessions. Inspector, unless you would like to obtain a search warrant, I believe it would be appropriate if you leave. Have no doubt. I will be talking to my lawyer about this visit.”
“I’m sorry we troubled you. Ms. O’Donovan has been under a lot of strain recently. We’ve had no success in this investigation. We won’t bother you again.” Inspector Seps mobile rang. He walked away from them, past the easel and towards the window. “Excuse me one moment.”
Sensing Vincent staring at her, made the hair rise on the back of Cara’s neck. She kept her gaze on the Inspector. Her hands were clammy and the bravado of earlier had completely disappeared.
“And that’s a definite identification. I’ll be there soon.” Inspector Seps turned back. “I need to return to the station. Please excuse us, Mr. Blatchford.”
Cara wanted to scream, but it wouldn’t do any good. She had played her hand and needed something else.
As Inspector Seps walked around the easel, he stopped and peered down.
Cara moved next to him and saw a paint brush on the small shelf at the bottom of the picture. Next to it was a blood splattered bracelet with the name Melanie engraved on it. Being frozen to the spot and having a lump in your throat wasn’t the best option right now, but it was all Cara had.
“May I ask you where you came by this bracelet?” The Inspector looked up at Vincent who had approached and stood beside him.
Vincent didn’t answer. Instead, he swung the large glass jar that he’d held behind his back. The inspector fell to the floor. Blood from a gash across his forehead spread on the cream carpet. Vincent smiled down at the body on the floor.
Cara reached into her bag for the dagger. It might be her only chance.
“You’re wasting your time. It won’t work on me. You have to be immortal and I’m the only one left. I’ll prove it to you.” He lunged forward, causing the blade to be pushed into his chest.
She let
go of the dagger. She spun. She ran for the door. He was on her before she reached it. He knocked her down. His hands closed on her throat. She kicked and thumped as hard as she could. No effect. For once she wished her mother was outside and could hear her screams. As he squeezed tighter, the image of his grinning face disappeared.
Cara felt something hard beneath her back. Where was she? Vincent leaned over her. She opened her eyes but struggled to focus. He was saying something, but she couldn’t concentrate. She drifted out of consciousness again.
Next time he appeared there was a stinging sensation in her arm. She tried to move. She couldn’t. Staring at the wooden beams of the cellar roof, she forced herself to concentrate. Her arms were bent back at the elbow and there were cords around her wrists.
Vincent stood beside her. There was an intravenous needle in her arm. She tried to move her feet. Cords cut into her ankles. Tears welled in her eyes and ran down the sides of her face. Before, when she had been sick, she imagined dying. The scenario had her mother and father sitting in the corner looking appropriately sad.
Daniel and Jeff, and more recently Matcher and Seth would tell her not to give up. She intended to keep Seth from dying, but now she would be the next victim. She shivered.
“Are you cold? I would do something. There hardly seems any point.” Vincent moved away and sat next to a small table set up with wine and glasses. He picked up the glass and smelled the aroma. A smile of contentment came to his face as he sipped. “You know my recent kills haven’t been as rewarding as they used to be.”
“You’re insane,” Cara whispered.
“It‘s most frustrating,” Vincent ignored her. “I like killing. I think it was something I inherited from my father. My mother was often sick when I was young. Father had needs and gratified them with the servants. There was one who used to be nice to me. Her name was Harriet. She made the mistake of saying no to my father.”
