Charity Shop Haunted Mysteries

by Katherine Hayton

  The man laughed, his tears now flowing freely. “I was a teenager in an institution. Do you really believe they let me have access to the phone?” He turned a pitying gaze towards her, and Emily put the pieces together.

  “He locked you in the box?”

  “For a few days. Matron let me out to go to the bathroom, changed my wound dressing, and fed me, then I’d go back inside. I was so stunned by what happened, I didn’t put up any protest. When I was allowed back out full-time, it was hard to imagine what I thought I’d seen was even real.”

  “How did Freddie fit into this?” Emily leaned over and put her hand on Maui’s knee. His eyes were glazing, taking him some place far away. “He wasn’t in the tree?”

  “We were causing a distraction so he could sneak out of the school. Astrid had left a few days before and he wanted to meet up with her.”

  “But he stayed?”

  “The head closed his blinds. Freddie couldn’t risk leaving until he knew where the man was. When he saw him heading toward the tree with the axe, he froze to the spot.”

  Crystal jumped to her feet, pacing to the window and back again. “But this was years ago. Decades. Why haven’t you or Freddie told what happened in the meantime?”

  “The headmaster said we’d better keep our lips buttoned if we knew what was good for us. If we didn’t, if we said anything, no one would believe us. The community already had us branded as liars.”

  “But…” Crystal shook her head in frustration. “Surely you know that’s not true.”

  Maui stared at her, then screwed his eyes up. “It was true, that’s the problem. If it came down to believing a boy from a reform school and the headmaster, who do you think the police would side with?”

  “I think they’d investigate,” Emily said with a firm nod. “That’s what I think.”

  “Because you’re white. Because you’re middle-aged. Because you’ve never been in trouble in your lives. That’s not the world I lived in and it’s not the world Freddie lived in either. If we’d talked to the police—if we could even get through the door—they’d have laughed in our faces. Nobody would have followed up. The entire incident was so outlandish, nobody would ever have believed what we said.”

  Emily opened her mouth, ready to argue again, then thought of the policemen’s laughter when she first reported the murder of Mrs Pettigrew. She had advantages in life Maui could never hope to experience, but they’d still treated her like a joke.

  “Yeah,” she said instead, “I understand that.”

  “Poor Freddie was so traumatised that when Mr Leuf told him to keep his mouth shut, he took it far too seriously. I never heard him speak another word aloud in all the time he remained at the school.”

  Shocked, Emily turned towards the ghost. She’d never considered his muteness might be from anything other than dementia. Guilt rose in a wave of bile, burning the back of her throat.

  Crystal cracked her knuckles, her face drained of all colour. “Who buried the bodies?”

  “I’d guess the headmaster did it himself. I can’t imagine he’d have fielded offers for help.”

  “But what about the other pupils?” While Emily sat back, her mind reeling, Crystal stepped closer, as though gearing up for a fight. “The school must have been full of witnesses. One or two of you—”

  “Most of them were out on a school camping trip, staying at Hanmer Springs. Oakhaven went each year with another local school. A great opportunity to teach us all about nature and survival in the forest, or some such rubbish.”

  “Then why weren’t you all there?”

  “The budget didn’t stretch to everyone attending every time. Since all the pupils in our year had been already, they held us back.”

  “Where were Gladys and Trish?” Emily sat forward, her mind processing again. “They were in your year, too, weren’t they?”

  “Matron had them in the kitchen. Every chance she got, she took them in there or the laundry, to learn the real skills they’d need for the future. The kitchen was on the other side of the school so they wouldn’t have seen a thing.”

  “But… Their families.” Crystal tried to mount another defence, turning her pleading face toward Emily for help.

  “Do you think I’m lying?” Maui’s hand curled into fists. “Is that why you turned up today? To get my story out of me so you could accuse me of fibbing about the whole thing?”

  “We know nobody reported it,” Emily whispered. “It’s too late to think of reasons why it couldn’t happen when we know for sure it did.”

  “It was just stupid luck that nobody else was around.” Maui shook his head, the flush of red in his cheeks fading. “Although, that’s probably why he started with the axe—because he knew nobody would see him.”

  Emily nodded. “It’s pure, rotten luck.”

  “The head reported the boys as runaways over the next few days.” Maui’s voice and posture were tired, defeated. “Since it fitted in with everyone’s expectations, nobody followed up too hard. They’re probably listed as missing persons still.”

  “Sergeant Winchester can check that out,” Emily said, pushing her hair back from her face. “And I understand why you thought it would do no good to tell the police what happened before, but I think they’ll be grateful if you talk to them now.”

  “If you want to do it today, we can give you a lift back to Pinetar,” Crystal offered. “Since you’ve already relived it once, it might be easier to do it straight away.”

  Maui put his face into his hands for a moment, his shoulders shaking. Emily expected tears would be evident when he pulled them away, but his face was dry, his expression determined.

  “Let’s go, then,” he said, standing up and stretching his spine until it popped. “Don’t give me a chance to change my mind.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sergeant Winchester eyed the three of them with open suspicion as they approached the front desk of the police station. While PC Perry took some preliminary details, he pulled Emily aside.

  “I hope this gets everything moving. We’ve had official word that a Detective Inspector from Christchurch is on his way on Monday to take over the case.”

  “As long as you treat Maui with respect, I’m sure he’ll give you everything you need to take the case forward.” Emily tipped her head to the side, observing the sheen on the sergeant’s upper lip. “Did you investigate those names Gladys circled?”

  He nodded, his attention moving back to the counter as PC Perry signalled him everything was finished. “Yeah. A couple of runaways and a few we couldn’t trace at all.” The sergeant jerked his head toward Maui. “Is he one of them?”

  “Yes.” Emily looked over her shoulder where the ghost stood, staring without expression as she talked to the policeman. “He can tell you a story that’ll shock you to your core.”

  “You staying or going?”

  Crystal was waiting out in the car to drop her home. “I’m going. Call if you need anything.”

  He’d already moved out of sight by the time she waved goodbye from the door. As she sat in the passenger side door, Crystal hooked up one eyebrow. “Has your ghost friend gone now? I didn’t see any light.”

  “No. He’s here.” As Emily put her seatbelt on, she wondered if he’d ever leave. “He’s still right here.”

  On the following Tuesday, Crystal once again gave Emily a lift, this time to the graveyard. The police had made the decision to inter the bodies, and it didn’t make sense to wait since nobody from their surviving family had known them in person. At best, they were snapshots in an old photo album, names on a family tree.

  To Emily’s surprise, Mrs Pettigrew had announced her intention to attend, and less surprising, Fred also came along for the ride.

  “The children’s section?” Cynthia exclaimed as they veered off the main path to join the few mourners gathering. “I mean, I suppose that’s technically correct, but it’s going to be weird since their friends are in their seventies.”
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  Weird or not, Emily found it oddly soothing to stand amongst the bright colours and whirring toys of mourning found there. A plastic windmill’s sales whirled so fast in the mild breeze it looked like a solid circle.

  As the priest performing the ceremony recited the chosen passages, a hand crept into Emily’s. She turned into the sad smile of Gladys, the nurse in attendance standing further back, a disgruntled look on her face.

  “It’s good they’re getting a send-off,” the elderly woman said, waving across the grave at Fred, who stood in the shadow of a weeping willow tree.

  “You can see him?” Emily asked, both comforted and frightened.

  “He’s been hanging around for days, now,” Gladys said. “I can’t work out what he wants.”

  “You and me both.”

  The caskets sat atop mechanical platforms. A groundsman stood back from the gathering, a respectful distance away, and pressed a button when the priest finished the eulogy. Each one lowered in turn, the engine groaning.

  “Would anybody here like to say some words?”

  Gladys disengaged her hand from Emily’s and stepped forward. “I knew Billy, Tim, and Aaron well, once upon a time. They weren’t my best friends. Partly because they were boys and partly because we were in a place that didn’t encourage friendships. Still, we spent a lot of hours together and I wished them well. I’m glad they finally get the chance to rest in peace.”

  She bowed her head, then stepped back after a few minutes. The lucid twinkle in her eye startled Emily, used to seeing the woman in quite a different state.

  “Oh, look.” Gladys pointed. “They’re here.”

  Emily followed the woman’s gesture and saw the three ghosts pop their heads around the corner of the willow tree. A cheeky grin was plastered across their faces, and the leader turned to the others, a finger pressed up to his lips.

  “Come on down, boys,” Gladys shouted. “It’s about time you gave up your hold on this place.”

  The priest cast a worried glance in her direction and the nurse stepped forward, placing a restraining hand on her arm.

  Emily turned to her, “It’s okay. I’m looking out for her.”

  The nurse tilted her head back to stare down the length of her nose. She gave a sniff as she stepped back, so reminiscent of Cynthia that Emily almost burst into laughter. Luckily, her sense of occasion remained intact, and she swallowed her mirth before returning her attention to the ceremony.

  One by one, the ghost boys climbed into their graves, filled now with a steady glow of light. Crystal caught Emily’s eye and jerked her chin at the light show, her smile beaming in recognition.

  One ghost left.

  Emily stared at Mr Wilmott, giving him a smile of encouragement. He returned the smile at first, then his face blanked into its usual sullen stare.

  “Do you know what Freddie wants?” she whispered to Gladys.

  When the lady turned to her, confusion blurred her features. Her previous alert gaze had clouded over. “What’s that?”

  Emily shook her head, trying to be grateful the boys had been able to move on. Sergeant Winchester stepped forward to drop a sod of earth into each grave, his lips calling out a prayer only the dead were privy to. She noticed another officer, dressed in his full regalia with three silver pips decorating the shoulders. The dreaded inspector from Christchurch.

  When it was Emily’s turn, she picked up a handful and shook a tiny amount of earth on top of each casket. The beautiful glow was diminishing with each second, leaving behind only the sad remains.

  “Rest in peace,” she whispered. “I hope you have more fun playing in the next realm than you ever had the chance to do here.”

  By the time she stepped back into position, Gladys had moved on—the nurse strong-arming her back to the waiting car.

  “I really thought I’d feel more of a sense of closure,” Emily said to Agnes later. She’d dropped by the home to check up on her and Maude, scolding herself mightily that she was using their brief friendship as a pretext. The person she really wanted to speak to again was Gladys.

  “Considering you didn’t know the boys at all, I’m surprised you felt much of anything.” Maybe sensing Emily’s ulterior motive, the elderly lady appeared in quite a mood. “And I’ve still got this monstrous hole outside my window. It’s all very well taking the bones out and away, but this serves as a reminder of what was down there.”

  The tents above the excavations flapped in the wind, a constant call drawing attention. “They shouldn’t be like that for too long,” Emily said, jerking back from the window as the Inspector strode into view.

  “Great,” Agnes muttered, pulling Maude into her lap. “More police. Just what we need.”

  The bulldog whined, trying to scramble free. It seemed she didn’t appreciate her owner’s mood any more than Emily did.

  “If he’s checking the scene out, it might mean they’re about to fill the whole lot in,” she suggested. “It might be a good sign.”

  “Or they’ve discovered yet another one. Since it appears it’s central station for dead folks out there.”

  Although Agnes’s face showed nothing but displeasure, the phrase caught Emily’s funny bone. Despite her best efforts, she giggled.

  “Fine. Laugh at me, why don’t you? The shoe will be on the other foot one of these days and don’t expect any sympathy from me when it is. I’d have swapped this horrible place out for a room in Christchurch, except the receivers have told us we’re all staying put for the time being.”

  “They’ve already got the receivers in?” The surprise stopped Emily’s laughter cold. “That was quick.”

  “Yeah, well. There’s money to be made in us old folk, don’t you know.”

  “I suppose they needed someone to hire staff with the main decision-makers under arrest.”

  “Shh.” With a gleam of good humour in her eyes, Agnes held a finger to her lips. “Don’t say it too loudly. We don’t want everyone to find out.”

  “It’s odd.” Emily checked out the window just in time to see the inspector walking away. “This place used to operate as a reform school of sorts, and it seems the people running it belonged firmly in that camp.”

  “A breeding ground for criminals!” Agnes seemed delighted by the idea. “You know, when I was a kid, I always wondered what it would be like to rob a bank. Perhaps now’s the time to find out.”

  “All the romance from the old bank robberies is gone these days.” Emily winked. “You’d need to get a truck to do a smash and grab on an ATM.”

  “Or get hold of a computer to do a bit of credit card hacking.”

  They smiled at each other for a second, then burst out laughing. It felt good to be back on an even keel. Even Maude joined in, snuffling and shaking her butt.

  “I’m scared what will happen to my money if this place goes under,” Agnes admitted. “Most of the profits from the sale of my house went straight into this unit.”

  “At a guess, they’ll have that money set aside in a trust,” Emily said, calling upon her old training. “Since most of it will be earmarked to go back to you or your estate after you pass on or sell, it’ll be safe. It’s the penalties and monthly fees where they make most of their profit.”

  “Well, that settles my mind some. If I became destitute at my age, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  “You and Maude can always move in with me,” Emily said, cupping the dog’s face in her hand and blowing her a kiss. “There’s enough room.”

  As long as you don’t mind knocking about with some annoying ghosts.

  “We do have standards, you know,” Agnes said, looking down her nose. She managed to hold the expression for a second, then dissolved into giggles again. “How was the funeral?”

  “Not too bad.” Emily ran a hand through her hair and bounced on the edge of Agnes’s bed. “It’d be a lot sadder if anyone actually knew them as children, but there was only Gladys and Maui in that position, and they seemed more relieved th
eir friends were getting a decent burial at last.”

  “Much better than under the patio,” Agnes agreed. “I pity the residents here who barbequed over top of them. It’d be enough to give me nightmares for the rest of my life.”

  Emily nodded and stood up. “I’ve got to go in a minute, but I promised Gladys I’d see her before I went off.”

  “Is your friend coming back for you?”

  “No. Crystal had some appointments this afternoon, so I’m on my tod. I’ve got work piling up in the shop, though.”

  Agnes laughed and poked Emily in the ribs. “I meant because you don’t have a car here. I’m not interested in the details of your day.”

  “Oh, thanks. That’s lovely.” Emily pouted for a second, then grinned. “I’ll just catch an Uber.”

  “You mean, Frank.”

  Emily raised her eyebrows, not understanding.

  Agnes sniggered. “You’ve got too used to the big city. There’s not the same selection on offer in Pinetar, you know. If you call an Uber, you get Frank. If he’s not on duty, you get no one.”

  “Good to know.”

  “It’s even better to know that if you phone him direct on this number”—Agnes pulled a business card out of the stack on her desk—“he’ll give you a discount.”

  Emily handed her phone over. “If you can pop that into my contacts, I’ll let you keep the card.”

  She smiled as she walked through the winding tangle of corridors to reach the common room near Gladys’s unit. She remembered just a week before when it seemed she’d never get a map of the place set in her mind. Now, she didn’t think twice about it. Perhaps her mental capacity hadn’t deteriorated as much as she’d feared.

  “Do you have time to talk?” she asked Gladys when she found her resting against the frame of her favourite window.

  Gladys offered an accommodating smile but the glaze in her eyes told Emily she had a struggle ahead of her. This was more than the confusion she’d seen clouding the woman’s face before—it was drug-induced.