Night Watcher (13 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Julie gathered her coat round her body, holding it tightly closed at the neck to keep out the cold blast of the wind. This is stupid, she thought, as she walked back towards Tayside House. Adrian was right, her obsession with revenge was eating at her, turning her into somebody even she could not recognize. It made her feel dirty. Maybe she should give it up, go back to Edinburgh, forget Nicole ever existed, forget Dave. Ah, but how could she forget Dave. A tear trickled down her cheek, solitary and cold, just like she was. In fact she thought she would never be warm again. How could she give up on Dave? It was a betrayal of everything that was important for her. And yet, it was destroying her, for with Nicole’s destruction came her own, and she knew that with victory there would also be defeat.

Depression gripped her and she wanted to slide into the darkness. Maybe it would have been better to join Dave instead of following this course of revenge which was all consuming and was bound, in the end, to destroy her.

Julie stumbled back the way she had come, barely conscious of her surroundings, oblivious to a junkie busker with his outstretched hand and an accordionist who only seemed to know one tune. She knew she should return to her flat and jog the poison out of her system, but there was no one waiting for her there and her flat would be empty and cold. Despair gripped her. Tiredness seeped through her body, sapping her energy. She wanted to lie down, to sleep never to waken, to join Dave wherever he was now. Her feet slowed, and when she left Tayside House behind her she turned in the direction of Whitehall Crescent and Donovan’s pub.

It was warm inside and it buzzed with noise and life, however, she was on her third vodka before she started to revive and relax. She had never been much of a drinker before Dave died, but that had changed. Maybe it was the poison eating away inside her that made the difference or maybe it was just missing him. Missing his teasing about how prim and proper she was. Missing his laughter – laughter that always jolted her out of a bad mood. Missing his arms around her. Missing him just being there.

‘Another vodka.’ She waved her glass at the barman.

She twirled her stool round and leaned her back against the bar while she sipped her drink and watched for a table to become vacant so she did not have to perch on the bar-stool that was just a little too high for comfort. Knowing she would have to be quick, she was ready when the crowd at the corner table started to move, and lifting her drink she crossed the room and slipped into an empty seat.

‘My, you were quick off your mark. We almost collided.’ He was medium height, had shoulder length hair, narrowed eyes that seemed to see right through her; several heavy gold chains round his neck and a fistful of finger rings that made her wonder how he managed to lift his glass.

‘Get you another drink, love?’

She shook her head, ‘No thanks,’ and turned away from him hoping he would take the hint.

‘Oh well, whatever,’ he said, sitting down and placing his glass on the table. ‘Here on your own, love?’

She looked over to the barman, but he was deep in conversation with a man at the end of the bar. Their heads were close together as if whatever they were saying to each other should not be overheard.

‘I’m waiting for someone,’ she said, hoping he would believe her and leave her alone.

‘That’s okay, love. I’ll just keep you company until he gets here.’ He pushed her glass over to her. ‘Drink up, love and I’ll get you another.’

A hand reached over and took the glass from her just before it reached her lips. ‘I think that drink’s contaminated.’ The man from the end of the bar smiled down at her. ‘Hoppit, Sammy, or I’ll run you in and don’t you bother this lady again, she’s with me.’

‘Sorry pal. Didn’t realize she was your bird.’ Sammy’s eyes darted round the bar looking for a way out that would not damage his reputation.

‘Drink somewhere else, Sammy. I don’t want to see your face around here again.’ He held a finger up to the barman who came over with another drink. ‘Wash this one away, Stevie. I don’t think it would be healthy to drink it.’

‘Sure thing, Bill.’ The barman grinned at Julie. ‘You’ll be safe enough now.’

‘What the hell,’ said Julie, not sure what had just happened.

Bill slid into the seat beside her. ‘I’d better sit down in case chummy comes back.’ He held out his hand, ‘I’m Bill Murphy and I just saved you from a fate worse than death.’

He grinned at her with a grin that was so infectious she had to smile back. ‘What is this fate you saved me from?’ Her eyes appraised him. He seemed nice in a pleasant sort of way. Attractive, but not too attractive, with his brown hair and eyes and slightly misshapen nose suggesting he might have been in a fight at some time.

‘Stevie saw him spike your drink. Says he’s done it before to girls who don’t have anyone with them, and he doesn’t want the pub to get a bad name.’

‘Oh,’ she swirled the vodka in her glass, ‘I see.’ She looked up at him from under her lashes. She liked what she saw. She also liked the note of quiet humour in his voice. Instinctively she knew that this was a man to be trusted. She relaxed, and for the first time in months Dave was not at the forefront of her mind.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

It was the kind of night he liked, where even the stars were hidden behind a cushion of darkness which enveloped everything, leaving the whole world in shadow, although some shadows were deeper than others. It was in these deeper shadows that he sought anonymity to observe the one he had been ordained to watch.

He was there in the car park when she found his first gift. He watched her reaction. Savoured her fear.

Ah, that was the delicious part, the fear.

But her show of bravado irked him, even though he realised this was just one of her many pretences, because she would not want it to be known that she was afraid. For he knew that this woman, like all of her kind, ruled by inducing fear in others.

There was still much more for him to do, although the night was not yet over, nor were all the gifts yet received.

The motor bike felt firm and solid between his legs as he waited and watched in the shadows of the cars.

He knew he was not the only one watching the woman and, although it puzzled him why the other one had followed Nicole and spied on her, he watched her as well.

The other one intrigued him. She claimed to be the woman’s friend, but she was not. He could see it when her eyes followed the woman’s movements. There was hatred there, a deep, dark hatred. If the woman ever saw it he knew she would make the other one suffer.

However, he did not have time to ponder about the other one for he had more work to do before the night was over.

***

The motor bike had been a good choice, and the biker it had belonged to no longer had any need for it. It was powerful and he had no trouble arriving at her house before she did, despite her speed and recklessness. He slid into the shadow cast by a tree. He liked the orchard. It was dark and full of interesting rustles, noises and smells. Small animals and insects crawled here, things of the earth rooting and foraging in the dank, clammy soil, hiding from the light just as he did.

He was almost sorry when he heard the whirr of the electric gate. He drew himself further into the shadows as her car headlights splayed through the trees with tentative, probing fingers that seemed to bounce off every leaf and branch threatening to expose him.

She drove up to the garage and, although the door rumbled up with the same noise the entrance gate had made, still she sat on in her car like a statue petrified for all time.

He knew why she sat there. She was afraid. He could almost taste her fear. The fear he had induced.

He was tempted to make his presence known, but she had not yet received her other gifts. The gifts he had left earlier.

The big ginger cat circled the tree. The cat was his friend. It was accustomed to his presence and often sought him out on his visits. He bent to stroke it. ‘Pretty pussy,’ he mouthed, although nothing came out of his mouth except a greyish, filmy vapour that made him think of ectoplasm.

The cat purred its welcome and rubbed itself against him. His hand stiffened, however, he resisted the urge to pull the cat to him and tighten his grip.

‘Later, cat. Later,’ he mouthed, before straightening up to turn his gaze towards the woman.

He was still watching when the man arrived and it was as he expected, the man ridiculed her and argued with her. The man even pulled her from the car. But, when she choked back her scream – ah, that was the highlight of the evening.

He moved closer. Close enough to see the terror on her face. She liked his little gifts, he could tell.

Later when she called the police, he left. It was time to return to his lair.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The scream bubbled up inside Nicole trying hard to force its way out of her throat, making her bite her lips until they bled to prevent the sound erupting. She tried to step back, but Scott’s body blocked her way. She shrank into it, merging with him until they were almost one. He stiffened, but whether that was because of what was in the kitchen or whether he was resisting her, she did not know or care. She was glad he was with her.

‘What the fuck,’ he said, the breath of his words whispering through her hair.

Nicole turned, burying her head in his tweed jacket so she would not have to see those little furry shapes with their staring, dead eyes. Little bodies lined up on her kitchen floor, looking as if they had taken part in some weird ceremony. She knew, without touching them, they would be as cold and stiff as the bird she had found in her car.

‘That’s it,’ he muttered above her head. ‘I’ve said before he’s a menace, always chasing birds and making a mess. And now this. That cat’s got to go, I’m not standing for any more of his shit.’

‘It’s not Ralph.’ Nicole removed her tear-streaked face from his jacket. ‘Don’t you see it must be that prowler I saw last night. The one you didn’t believe was there.’

‘Nonsense. This’s just the kind of thing that cat would do; murder poor defenceless creatures and drag them through the cat flap as a present for his mistress.’ His eyes mocked her. ‘Get rid of the cat and you won’t have any more bodies.’

‘You’ve never liked Ralph, have you? But you’re wrong this time. It’s not Ralph, it’s someone trying to frighten me and they’re doing a damned good job.’ Nicole pulled herself away from Scott. ‘I want you to call the police.’

‘I’ll do no such thing,’ Scott thrust his chin out in the belligerent way he had when he did not agree with her. ‘And make a laughing stock of myself? You must be joking.’ He pushed her in the direction of the door to the hallway. ‘Take yourself off to the lounge and I’ll get rid of the bodies.’

‘Leave the bodies right where they are,’ Nicole snapped as anger surged through her with a flash of heat. ‘I want the police to see them exactly as they are. Too bad I didn’t keep the bird I found in my car tonight.’

‘Bird?’ Scott raised his eyebrows and looked at her with an odd expression on his face.

‘Oh! Not that you’d be interested, but someone left a dead bird on my car seat tonight. When it was in the car park, I might add. Did Ralph do that as well?’

‘Coincidence,’ his voice was offhand. ‘Pure coincidence. Still, if you’re determined to make a fool of yourself calling out the police don’t let me stop you.’ He squared his shoulders, thrust out his chin and stalked out of the kitchen.

After Scott left, Nicole stood, just inside the kitchen door, looking in fascinated horror at the bodies on the floor. A squirrel – spreadeagled, with its tail bushed out behind – it lay alongside a stoat, and the pet, white rabbit that belonged to the boy on the farm a couple of miles along the road. Each one had their limbs outstretched in a mad sacrificial pose. Ralph could not possibly have caused this carnage.

A breeze tickled the back of her neck arousing her senses and she had a sudden awareness of the open door behind her that led out to the blackness of the garden and the orchard.

The urge to run out into the dark and punish the murderer of these poor defenceless animals, was almost too great to resist. But she knew that would be foolhardy. She tried to scream her defiance at whoever was out there, but could only summon a croak. Her limbs were leaden. She looked out into the darkness and it was as if she were floating above herself, separate from her body while every rustle and whisper out there was a threat. Knowing she had to shut the door if she was to stay safe Nicole forced her hand to grasp the doorknob and push the door. Only after it clicked shut and she turned the key in the lock was she able to breathe easily again and lose the out of body feeling.

She forced herself to move, picking her way round the edge of the kitchen so she did not have to pass too closely to the bodies. Her breathing quickened until she was almost hyperventilating and she had to stop for a moment to grasp the edge of the sink. The stainless steel was cool on her fingers as they tightened until they were white and bloodless. The tiny bodies mocked her and she was unable to stop looking at them. Who could do such a thing? She shivered. Unwelcome twinges of fear plucked at her nerves as if they were violin strings playing a dirge.

Nicole was not sure how long she stood, frozen to the kitchen unit, with her hands glued to the sink. Maybe he was out there now, spying on her. She forced her eyes away from the bodies and looked at the window, but saw only the darkness outside. A darkness, pulsing with evil. An evil prepared to take the life of small creatures. Would it stop there? Or was her life at risk as well? Was this a warning?

Gradually she pulled herself away from the sink and sidled along the front of the kitchen units until she reached the wall-phone. Her hand was like lead and it took her all her time to grasp the phone and dial. Scott would not like it, but she had no option but to call the police because she had no way of knowing what was outside watching and waiting for her.

***

Bill Murphy leaned back in his seat. She had said her name was Julie. It was a nice name to match the woman who had it. He watched her over the rim of his pint glass as he sipped the lager he should not have ordered. He was on-call tonight and should have stuck to the cokes, but he did not want her to think he was some kind of wimp.

Bill liked what he saw, nice features, short dark hair, sad grey eyes that lit up when she could be persuaded to smile, nice figure, conservatively dressed.

At first she had seemed like a startled fawn when he had come over, but after he had got rid of that slimeball, Sammy, she had seemed to relax. He suspected Sammy had spiked her drink, but did not really know. However, it was a great way to introduce himself, and she was well rid of that boyo.

‘You don’t mind me sitting here?’ he said, hoping she would not ask him to go. He would have liked to put his arm round her, but somehow she did not seem to be that kind of girl.

Julie swirled the vodka in her glass. ‘Yes . . . I mean no . . . I don’t mind.’ Her face took on a pink tinge and she shifted position in her seat until she was slightly further away from him.

‘If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll go?’ Bill held his breath waiting for her reply.

‘No . . . it’s all right. It’s just that I thought I might see someone I knew here tonight.’ Her eyes roved the bar in a restless search for familiar faces.

‘That’s all right then.’ Bill was not usually so tongue-tied, but this woman was having a strange effect on him. She seemed so vulnerable and restless as if she had something worrying her, while an aura of sadness cloaked her, bringing out every protective feeling he had.

The noise of voices and background music mixed and mingled, soaring round them as they sat there, but the silence between them was impenetrable. Bill sensed a fear in her. It showed in the way she sat and the way she gripped her glass and clasped her shoulder bag to her body. His instincts told him she was in emotional turmoil and did not know how to handle it. It made him wonder if he had made a mistake sitting down beside her, but he wasn’t sorry he had.

‘Another drink?’ He reached for her glass and stood up. Maybe another drink would relax her, although he had a feeling she’d had quite a few already.

She nodded, looking up at him with those large startled eyes, although she just as quickly looked away again, as if she regretted letting her guard down.

‘She come in here often?’ Bill asked the barman.

‘I’ve seen her now and again, but she’s not a regular.’ Stevie placed the glass down in front of Bill. ‘Doesn’t usually talk to anyone except for an older guy who comes in occasionally. In fact, there he is now.’ Stevie took Bill’s money and rang it up on the till. ‘Cheers mate, I don’t think you’re going to get far with that one.’

‘Thanks Stevie, I’ll bear that in mind.’

Bill squeezed his way through the crowd until he reached the table in the corner where Julie sat. The man who had joined her was quite a bit older and had a down at the heel look. He seemed to be a man who had seen better times. ‘What you drinking, mate?’ Bill said as he slid Julie’s glass over the table.

The man half rose from his seat. ‘Oh, . . . I didn’t know you were in company, Julie. I’ll be off and leave you in peace.’

‘No, no, Harry. You sit where you are.’ Julie patted his hand. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Bill? It is Bill, isn’t it?’

Bill did mind. He minded a lot, but he did not want to contradict Julie and perhaps spoil the start of a burgeoning relationship. ‘Of course not,’ he said, wondering how long Harry would stay. ‘Sure you don’t want to have a drink, mate?’

‘No, I’m fine. I’ll stick with my beer.’ Harry smiled apologetically. ‘I don’t really drink much, you know, but I had to get out of the house or I don’t know what I’d have done.’ He looked into his glass as if he was expecting it to give him the answer. ‘It’s been a rotten day.’

Bill’s mobile vibrated against his leg, which was just as well because he could hardly hear the ringing tone over the racket in the pub. He groaned when he took it out and checked the number. ‘It’s the office,’ he explained as he got up, ‘but it’s too noisy to take it in here – bloody nuisance,’ he muttered under his breath as he pushed through the crowd to the door.

The street outside was windy and Bill looked for a quiet doorway to take the call. Frowning, he listened for a few moments before saying, ‘Can’t someone else do it? I’ve got something good going here.’ His frown deepened as the voice continued. ‘Bugger you,’ he said, ‘I’ll make sure I return the favour sometime, with bells on it.’

Bill pushed his way back to the table. ‘Sorry Julie,’ he tried to smile, ‘got to go. Duty calls.’ He paused, ‘Can I see you again, or maybe give you a bell?’

‘I don’t know,’ her voice sounded husky. ‘We don’t really know each other.’ She looked away from him and turned to speak to Harry.

‘Damn! Damn!’ he muttered as he left Donovan’s. ‘I didn’t even get her phone number.’ The Coca Cola can he kicked clattered along the street and bounced off the wall. It made him feel slightly better, although not much.

***

Julie watched Bill leave the pub. His shoulders had slumped when she turned away from him and now, as she watched him, he seemed to have a dejected look, rather like a dog who had been kicked. For a brief moment she wanted to run after him, but she didn’t.

‘Why’d you give him the brush off?’ Harry gave her a quizzical look. ‘He seemed a nice enough chap.’

‘Yes,’ Julie’s voice was slow and thoughtful, ‘but I don’t know him. He could be anybody. Besides I don’t want complications in my life.’ She gulped her drink trying to rid herself of the guilt that was flooding through her, because, when Bill had been with her she had not thought of Dave once. Her eyes clouded with the suggestion of tears as she turned her thoughts to Dave. As long as he was part of her, even in death, there was no room for anyone else.