Hidden Mortality (22 page)

“You’re fucking mad,” Daniel yelled, as he stared at the knife.

Blood oozed around the hilt of the knife and stained the front of Seth’s shirt. He pulled out the knife. Matcher had returned from the kitchen with a towel to press against the wound. Then, Seth lifted up his shirt. As they watched, the wound healed. The blood was still there as evidence of what had occurred but the skin edges joined leaving nothing but a smooth line. Then he sliced across his palm and up his arm to the elbow. The cut went so deep that the muscle bone and sinews could be seen. Again it closed. Each layer slowly reaching out and pulling its opposite edge until the wound was healed

“Do you want more?” Seth offered the knife to anyone who wanted it.

Daniel and Matcher sat down, shaking their heads. Daniel trembled. Jeff placed an arm around his partner’s shoulders. Seth sat down next to Cara. He took her hand in his; entwining their fingers. If what he had done had hurt him he didn’t show it. At that moment she realized he would do whatever he had to if it meant being with her.

“I love Cara. I’d never hurt her. I am who I say I am and I can’t change that.” Seth looked at her, his gaze obviously searching her face for a glimmer of what she might be feeling. She hoped her care for him showed through.

“I love Seth too. I also want to find out what happened to Shona.” Cara squeezed his hand.

Seth leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips. Her heart swelled. She couldn’t keep the smile from her face.

Jeff shook his head. “I think we’re all going mad and having a joint hallucination. If that’s not the case, we’ll help in any way we can,” Jeff said. “Right, Daniel?”

After a moment, Daniel nodded reluctantly. “I need a drink and a big one.” He went to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of whiskey and six glasses.

“So, what did you find out, Seth?” Cara asked.

“His collection is impressive. He even has some of my earlier pieces. I haven’t seen a few of those for over one hundred years. He’s commissioned a piece from me for a friend. He also gave me a dagger to repair.” Seth pulled a package from inside his jacket and handed it to Cara. “He might be able to help us find the killer.”

Her stomach clenched in a knot when she unwrapped the item. Horrified, she found the dagger she had seen so many times in her dreams. If she had ever doubted being a witch in the past the thought was gone. The dagger held power and she could feel its evil influence. It was reaching out like a suffocating vine to grab her. Her body went cold and her hands clammy and if she didn’t put the thing down she would pass out. She placed it back on the table.

Seth reached across and squeezed her hand. ”Are you all right? You look pale.”

“I’ll be fine. What are you going to do?” Cara sipped her drink. The whiskey burned the back of her throat. She never wanted to feel that clawing darkness again.

“I’ll fix it. I made it a long time ago and it led to Rosie’s death. I won’t make that mistake again. I’ll go back and find out who asked him to have it repaired. If he won’t tell me, then I’ll beat it out of him,” Seth replied.

“You had a copy at the forge. Couldn’t you just give him that?” Cara asked.

“I destroyed it.”

Cara wondered why he would have done such a thing. Was there something else he wasn’t telling her?

“I’ll go back to the forge in the morning to start the repair.”

“Promise me you’ll let me know when you’re going back to Vincent’s.” Cara caught his hand with hers.

“I promise,” Seth said.

Jeff and Daniel had gone home. Rachel and Matcher were on the pull-out sofa in the living room. After Seth had made love to her, he slept but Cara couldn’t. Was she right not to tell him everything about the book and that she suspected Vincent was the killer?

After all Seth had lost someone too. Didn’t he have a right to know? Cara hesitated. She couldn’t lose him. Someone loved her, and for the first time in her life she was starting to like herself. She would go back tomorrow and find something that would make Detective Seps accept Vincent was the killer.

As Seth slept beside her she considered that none of this made sense. What did make sense was that she wouldn’t let Seth die. This way she might have thirty or forty years with him rather than two days.

Seth turned over and opened his eyes. “You’re awake. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.” Cara pulled back the blankets and moved on top of him.

Chapter 23

Before Seth left, Cara made him promise again not to go to Vincent’s alone. To keep her mind occupied, she made Matcher and Rachel pancakes. Why couldn’t everything be like cooking? It was simple and made sense. If you added the wrong ingredient things turned out differently? Sometimes it worked sometimes it didn’t. She wasn’t prepared to take that chance with Seth’s life. Matcher turned on the television to watch breakfast news.

“Do you want lemon juice or maple syrup?” Cara called from the kitchen. They ignored her as they stared at the television screen. Hearing the words the newsman spouted brought bile to her throat.

“The woman’s body was found at Avonmouth. Police suspect the victim was thrown from the Coronation Road footbridge. The perpetrator must have hoped it would go out to sea on the strong tides. Police have not clarified yet. It is believed the body was mutilated in a similar way to the other recent slasher murders. It is thought she might have been there at least three days.”

The newscast continued with news on a by-election in the area. Cara mechanically placed the serving dish of pancakes down on the table. Rachel looked pale and didn’t touch them. Matcher loaded his plate and topped it with syrup.

Rachel kicked him in the shin. “How can you eat?”

“What?”

Rachel shook her head. “Guys. I’ll never understand them.”

“He’s a killer, you know that. I’m sorry, Cara. It’s months since Shona died. Any evidence would be long gone. With this recent murder, he may have left some clues. You have to work out some way you can convince the police he’s involved.” Matcher shoved pancakes in his mouth, syrup running down his chin.

“We left some platters behind.” Cara’s hands shook. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so brave anymore. Will you come with me, Matcher?”

“Sure. I’ll take Rachel home and then I’ll be back.”

It wasn’t lost on Cara how Rachel stiffened at the mention of home. From what she had heard her mother and stepfather were fighting and she was caught in the middle.

They parked outside of Vincent’s and sat. If they were going to do something, they needed to do it now.

“What you gonna do then?” Matcher said biting his nails. His fringe was back over his face. “Go home?”

“No, we have to do this today.” Cara took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s move.”

Stephan answered the door. Some people spent their lives looking down their noses at others. This man was one of them.

“We were passing, and thought we could pick up the platters. I know Vincent said he would have them returned, but I thought we would save you the hassle.”

“Mr. Blatchford is not in at present, but I suppose it would be acceptable. They’re in the kitchen. Follow me.”

Cara had expected Vincent, but Stephan might be easier to handle. She could keep him talking while Matcher went searching on the pretense of using the loo. When she listened to the conversation last night, she discovered that Stephan thought he was a worldwide authority on wine.

“Are these some of the special wines you mentioned? There were quite a few people appreciative of a good drop. When I was leaving the platters in the sitting room, several faces lit up when you said you planned to open a bottle of red.”  

Cara knew she had hit the right spot with the grin on Stephan’s face. She didn’t miss the fact he looked towards the kitchen door.

“I’m sure Matcher will be back in a minute. He’s on one of those organic vegetarian high fiber diets. New age stuff. As a cook, I know all you need to eat is a good range of decent food, but he won’t listen.”

Stephan screwed up his nose, but his attention soon went back to the wine in front of him. “That would be the Grange Hermitage you heard everyone discussing. It’s an Australian wine but some people are so insular and refuse to look outside of Europe.”

“I love Australian wine.”

Matcher walked back in and Stephan gave him the appropriate look of distaste. She noticed the almost imperceptible shake of the head from Matcher.

“I presume you’re ready to go then,” Stephan said, picking up a case of the wine.

“Do you need some help to take these back to the cellar? We could help before we go.”

“Thank you.”

He looked at Matcher’s hands as he touched one of the cases. He probably thought the wine was contaminated forever. Cara followed him and Matcher down the stairs to the cellar.

She didn’t like the smell. It might have been faint but as a cook she could pick up the slight odor of blood. There was so much wine. Racks covering most walls of the room. Down one side was a table on which she placed her two bottles. Her head spun. Her bag fell to the floor as if in slow motion. Her vision blurred.

The blood enticed her to another level of ecstasy. Her nostrils flared at the stimulation. Staring at her hands, she saw blood coating them with a red hue. She gazed down at a dressing gown.

She was in Vincent’s mind reliving the murder. The body of the woman in front of her was already mutilated, but she felt the frenzy build. She had to rip the woman apart. Rings, a necklace and bracelets were torn off and thrown aside.

This filth shouldn’t be adorned by such precious metals. She grabbed the blade and stabbed repeatedly. Slashing the abdomen with such force the dead body jolted with each stab and thrust.

“Cara? Are you all right?”

Matcher’s voice brought her back to reality. She knelt on the floor, her bag’s contents strewn nearby. She couldn’t stop shaking at what she had seen in Vincent’s mind. She never wanted to go there again.

“You look pale.” Matcher’s face was full of concern.

“I’m fine, just a bit dizzy. Skipping breakfast will do it every time.”

Stephan ushered them up the stairs, to the kitchen for their platters and out the front door. Cara took in a deep breath of fresh air as soon as they were out of the house.

“Okay, what the hell was that all about?” Matcher said the words under his breath as they walked to the gate.

“I’ll tell you in the car.”

“So?” Matcher folded his arms across his chest as he scowled at her. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I had one of the visions I told you about. In this one, I was in Vincent’s mind. He was in that cellar killing a young woman. She had a bracelet with the name Melanie engraved on it.”

“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, how 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.