The Eyes of the Accused: A dark disturbing mystery thriller (The Ben Whittle Investigation Series Book 2) (23 page)

‘Stay awake. Okay?’

‘S-stay awake.’

‘I’ll be as quick as I can, okay?’

Ben nodded slowly.

Maddie kissed him on the cheek and left him flirting with unconsciousness on the backseat of Frank Crowley’s Mondeo.

Connie needed a doctor. Someone to pull those scissors out of her chest and treat the wound. A doctor with a hypodermic needle full of morphine and a pocket full of antibiotics. She didn’t fancy having a go at it herself. She didn’t want another open wound. The one in her neck was probably already turning septic and poisoning her bloodstream.

Try to stay positive, Sweetcakes.

That was all right for the Wolf to say. He wasn’t the one sitting here at the mercy of infectious disease.  He wasn’t the one who was going to have to start again from scratch if the sneak thief died. She’d already had to abort the birth once. Five years ago next March. The experience had left her both traumatised and frustrated. The original birth mother had been a homeless girl. Connie had first seen her in Oxford sitting on a moth-eaten blanket and begging for loose change. The Wolf had told her to befriend the wretch and take her home. Connie wasn’t sure at first. The girl lacked pedigree; that much was evident by the haunted look in her eyes and her lowly position on the streets.

‘You were the one who said I had to choose carefully when we were back in Yarmsworth,’ Connie had reminded him, after a particularly lengthy argument. ‘What’s changed?’

Time’s ticking, Sweetcakes. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Connie had responded, somewhat tartly, that it was all right for the Wolf to expect her to ‘choose a beggar.’ Anyway, what if the girl had a drug habit?

She won’t have a drug habit locked in the basement, will she?

Connie had consumed the best part of a pint of her own blood trying to reason with the Wolf. In spite of her initial reservations, and against her better judgement, Connie had finally relented. Over the next few weeks, she’d befriended the girl by dropping small change into her plastic begging bowl and making small talk. The girl was called Amy. Quite a pretty name. One that had survived the passage of time. Unlike abominations such as Primrose and Ethel. Or her mother’s horrific affront to the English language: Gaye. Who in God’s right mind would call their child Gaye? Never had a name gone so against the grain of a woman’s nature as the one bestowed upon her mother.

By the time Amy was six months pregnant, Connie had invited her to move into Fourwinds. Connie’s initial reticence proved justified. Amy hadn’t turned out to be a very pleasant guest. For one thing, she smoked. Connie detested smoking. Why people wanted to choke up their lungs with filthy cigarette smoke was beyond her. Connie wasn’t one for forcing her beliefs on anyone, but she had to draw the line somewhere. Amy’s habit had stunk out the basement. And it was a fire risk. Not to mention the damage it was doing to poor little baby Jacob’s lungs. He’d probably end up with chronic asthma. Or pleurisy. Or bronchitis. Or lung cancer.

‘The baby isn’t even breathing,’ Amy had argued, after Connie had confiscated her cigarettes on medical grounds. ‘He’s in a sack of bloody water.’

Connie didn’t like the girl’s petulant nature. ‘It’s a health risk.’

What Connie hadn’t bargained for was Amy’s violent mood swings due to the loss of her comforter. The Wolf had advised Connie to buy a set of handcuffs and secure Amy to a mains water pipe in the basement. The same cuffs that now secured Crowley to the bench in the garage.

As time passed, it became obvious that the girl was suffering from mental health issues. So much so that she started cursing Connie with a degree of profanity usually restricted to building sites.

The Wolf had finally admitted that taking trash off the streets had been a mistake. He’d advised Connie to cut the girl’s throat and bury her beneath the basement. Connie had wholeheartedly agreed. It also transpired, during Amy’s begging and pleading for her life phase, that she had been abused by her stepfather. Connie had been left in no doubt that it was his filthy seed incubating inside her. Baby Jacob would be both mentally and physically impaired by such a heinous heritage.

A light-coloured patch of concrete marked Amy’s grave. Connie smiled. At least she’d helped the unfortunate wretch kick her disgusting habit before she went off to meet her maker. It might be an idea to take some pictures of the basement before she sold Fourwinds. Keep them as a reminder of the monumental effort it had taken to bring baby Jacob back into the world.  

Blood trickled out of the wound in her neck. It was only by the grace of God that the sneak thief had missed the artery. 

You’ll need a tetanus jab.

The Wolf was right. But she could hardly drive to the hospital in such a terrible state. She looked at the sneak thief. Hugging her knees and sobbing like a child. What in God’s name did she have to cry about?

Connie put the gun on the basement steps, safety off. The sneak thief was going to suffer a long and lingering death after baby Jacob was born. Aye, she was, and Connie didn’t mind admitting that she would take great pleasure from it.

‘Why did you have to make this so damned hard?’

The sneak thief ignored her.

‘You know what happens to liars, don’t you?’ Connie didn’t wait for an answer. ‘No one ends up believing them, that’s what.’

The girl who cried wolf.

Connie dabbed at her neck wound with shaking fingers. ‘Liars never prospect.’

Prosper.

Connie snorted. She didn’t care about dumb words. She was in what her mother might have called ‘a fix’. A stupid expression, seeing as ‘fix’ implied mending. She touched the handle of the scissors. Just touching them sent shock waves of pain through her body.

Make the bitch suffer.

Connie nodded vigorously. The movement fed her brain through a mincer. She squinted at the sneak thief. ‘I was going to make it quick for you. Now you’re going to suffer.’

‘Fuck you.’

Connie didn’t respond. The bitch was obviously trying to provoke her.

You need to get to a hospital, Sweetcakes.

‘And what exactly am I supposed to say? I tripped over the cat and stabbed myself?’

You don’t have a cat.

‘Shut up! I can’t think straight with all this pain.’

You could say a mystery man broke in and attacked you. Say you don’t know what he looked like because he was wearing a balaclava.

Aye. And wasn’t that just indicative of today’s society? Full of liars, thieves and homeless girls who can’t live without their cigarettes.

What do you think?

Connie quite liked the idea of a mystery thief. At least it was plausible. But how was she going to get to Oxford? There was absolutely no way she could drive. Not with both the weather and her health deteriorating so rapidly.

Call an ambulance?

What if one of the paramedics hears the sneak thief down in the basement? Raises the alarm? It’s too risky. And I’ve got Crowley in the garage and the whore in the boot of his car.

Hannah interrupted Connie’s thoughts. ‘I need a doctor.’

‘Go to hell.’

‘I’m bleeding to death.’

‘Good.’

‘If I die, my baby dies. Don’t you even care about that?’

‘No.’ A lie.

‘You won’t get away with this.’

‘Get away with what? I’m not doing anything wrong.’

‘You don’t think stealing my child is wrong?’

Connie peered at Hannah through a cataract of tears ‘I’m not stealing anyone’s child. He belongs to me.’

‘How the hell can he belong to you?’

Don’t let her engage you in an argument. She’s trying to trick you.

The Wolf was right. The sneak thief was trying to mess with her head. Make her feel weak. She grabbed the gun and stood up. Her head felt as if a swarm of bees had built a hive inside her skull. She swayed and almost toppled forward.

Easy, Sweetcakes.

The bees buzzed louder and louder, as if they were trying to pollinate her thoughts. She sat back down on the steps and begged them to leave her be.

Maddie wiped snow off the back door and peered through the glass. The kitchen was empty. There was a tea tray sitting on the floor near the basement. Two bowls and two bottles of water on the tray. Why? She tried the back door. Unlocked. A good omen. She let herself in and shut out the snowstorm as it tried to gate crash the kitchen. She walked over to the basement. The door was on the latch, sitting about half an inch shy of its jamb.

She pressed her ear up against the wood. Someone was sobbing. And then a voice. ‘Stop snivelling. It’s only a flesh wound.’

Maddie opened the door, just wide enough to squeeze through. 

‘You’ve killed my baby.’ Hannah’s voice. The words stitched together with sobs.

‘Killed your baby, my eye. It’s not even yours.’

‘It is mine, you fucking bitch. And you’ve killed it.’

‘Baby Jacob’s got nothing to do with you. You’re just his birth mother.’

‘And what does that make you? His fairy godmother?’

‘I’m his saviour.’

‘Saviour? Jesus Christ. Some fucking saviour. You’ve killed him.’

‘Liar.’

‘I’m not lying. I can’t feel him moving anymore.’

‘Shut your dirty mouth. You’re transferring all your negative emotions onto the child.’

‘I hope you rot in hell.’

Connie made a nasty squawking sound in the back of her throat. ‘It’s you who’s going to rot in hell. Or do you think God favours cowards who stab people with scissors for no reason?’

‘Fuck…off….’

‘You sound like one of those nasty little bitches I went to school with. Do you know what they said after my mother left home?’

‘I couldn’t care less what they—’

‘They said I was sleeping with me own Da. How could anyone even think that?’

Maddie gripped the handrail and looked down at Connie. Thankfully, the woman had her back to her.

‘It wouldn’t surprise me if you were one of them,’ Connie said. ‘What with that spiteful tongue of yours.’

Maddie took a couple of steps down into the basement. Her body was shaking all over. Any minute now, Connie would hear her teeth rattling and turn around.

‘This was going so well,’ Connie said. ‘Until you took leave of your senses.’

Hannah seemed about to say something, and then looked up at Maddie.

Maddie put a finger to her lips and shook her head.

‘You’re all the same,’ Connie said. ‘Tarts and whores and freeloaders.’

Hannah looked away and studied the far wall.

Maddie saw a puddle of blood on the floor near Hannah. Now what did she do? She knew she couldn’t physically overpower Connie. Her arms and legs were still numb from the cold. Still stiff from her time in the boot. Her only chance was to try to outsmart the woman.

Connie rattled on. ‘Women like you give women a bad name. Dropping your knickers at the drop of a hat.’

Hannah didn’t answer.

Maddie took another two steps.

‘Statistically, one in three marriages work. How do you think yours would have gone, sneak thief?’

Hannah wasn’t saying. 

‘I’ll bet your boyfriend’s already found himself another tart. I’ll bet he’s at it right now underneath the mistletoe. Promising to love her for all eternity. Before you know it, there’ll be the pitter-patter of tiny feet. Yet another drain on this country’s limited resources.’

Maddie was half way down the steps when her father’s voice spoke inside her head.
Your mother is your guardian angel. Your keeper. Your gift from God.

‘What I can’t understand is this: how come nature doesn’t break the cycle? Why aren’t all the tarts and whores rendered sterile? They talk about natural selection, but I see little evidence of it.’

Maddie thought Connie Sykes would have been a shining star in Nazi Germany. One of Hitler’s brightest pupils.

‘The state of the world makes me truly believe that the Devil has won,’ Connie concluded. ‘You only need to look around you.’

Maddie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Connie?’

Connie jumped up and spun around to face Maddie. She held the gun in both hands and aimed it at Maddie’s chest. Her mouth hung open. ‘Huh?’

Maddie tried to make sense of the grotesque sight in front of her. Most of Connie’s neck was caked in blood. The handle of the scissors protruded from her chest. Her lips were peeled back, like a dog about to attack. Her glass eye moved slightly to the left, as if trying to orientate itself.

‘I’m here for the baby, Connie.’

‘You… can’t… be… here…’

Maddie found a smile from somewhere deep inside her. The same place where inexplicable strength came from. ‘I’m here, Connie.’

Connie’s good eye widened. ‘Are you a ghost?’

Maddie pinched her arm. ‘No. I’m flesh and blood. Just like you.’

‘You keep away from me.’

‘I’m here to help you, Connie. Help with the baby.’

‘Baby Jacob is mine.’

‘I know he’s yours.’

‘But… this can’t be real. I put you in the boot.’

‘The spirits let me out.’

‘What spirits?’

‘Baby Jacob’s guardian angels.’

‘Liar.’

‘I’m not lying.’

Connie hesitated. ‘So… who are you?’

‘I’m his guardian angel, too.’

‘You can’t be. You’re just a dirty whore.’

‘So how did I get out of the boot, then?’

Connie didn’t answer.

Maddie changed tack. ‘Hannah’s hurt. We need to get her to hospital.’

‘Hah! Right. And then you’ll call the cops. Do you really think I’m that stupid?’

‘No. But you do want what’s best for baby Jacob, right?’

‘Of course I bloody well do. He means the world to me.’

‘So let’s call an ambulance and get Hannah to hospital.’

‘No.’

‘You don’t want her to die, do you?’

‘She’s not going to die.’

‘She will if we don’t get her leg looked at.’

‘I don’t care what happens to the sneak thief.’

Maddie took a deep breath and walked down another step. ‘But it’s not about Hannah, is it? We have to think about the baby.’

Connie wiped her eye. ‘It’s me who needs a doctor.’

‘Then we’ll get you a doctor.’

‘The Wolf says you’re a liar.’

‘I’m not lying.’

Connie cocked her head to one side, as if listening intently. And then: ‘So how come you were cowering in the toilet at Crowley’s caravan? How come you didn’t tell me you were baby Jacob’s guardian angel then?’

Maddie’s mind stalled. ‘I had to keep it a secret.’

‘Really? Humour me, Sweetcakes. Why did you have to keep it a secret?’

A slight hesitation.
Jesus, Maddie. Think!
‘I couldn’t let Crowley know who I was.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean? You were with him.’

‘I wasn’t
with
him. I was watching him.’

‘What for?’

‘To make sure he didn’t harm you.’

‘Why would you give a damn about me?’

‘Because if anything had happened to you, Hannah and baby Jacob would have been trapped down here.’

Connie seemed to weight this up for a few moments. ‘I don’t believe you. For starters, you and your guardian angels could have let her out.’

‘Our main job is to observe and protect.’

‘The Wolf said nothing to me about guardian angels.’

‘The Wolf can’t see the spirits.’

Connie disagreed. ‘He sees everything.’

‘And you believe that?’

‘He watches out for me.’

‘No, Connie. He pretends to watch out for you. There’s a difference.’

‘I’d rather trust him than a filthy whore.’

‘I’m not a whore.’

‘Oops, silly me, you’re a guardian angel. I keep forgetting.’

‘Yes, Connie. I’m one of baby Jacob’s guardian angels.’

‘So humour me, Sweetcakes. How many of these so-called angels are there?’

Stay calm. For God’s sake, stay calm.
‘Two.’

‘What are their names?’

‘The Angel of Life and the Angel of Death.’

‘And who are you?’

‘I’m just me. I work for them on the earth plane.’

‘Why is the Angel of Death here?’

‘In case anything goes wrong.’

‘Was she there when I put a pillow over baby Jacob’s head?’

Maddie tried not to show her revulsion. ‘Yes.’

‘I didn’t mean to kill him.’

‘No one’s blaming you, Connie.’

‘The Wolf told me to do it.’

‘It’s okay. I—’

‘People always have to blame someone. Even when it’s no one’s fault.’

‘No one’s blaming you, Connie.’

‘Tell the Angel of Death to go away.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why?’

‘She has to be here in case Hannah or the baby dies.’

‘The sneak thief won’t die; it’s only a flesh wound.’

‘The Angel of Death says she might consider leaving if you put the gun down and let us call an ambulance.’

Connie didn’t seem interested in striking bargains. She touched the handle of the scissors. ‘You see what the sneak thief did to me?’

‘She was afraid, Connie.’

‘She faked going into labour to fool me. What do you and your angels think about that?’

‘We’re here to make sure nothing else goes wrong.’

‘Where were you when Amy died?’

‘Amy?’

Connie pointed at the light patch of concrete in the middle of the basement floor. ‘She’s down there. Common as a cowpat. I had to terminate the contract early.’

Maddie tried to swallow. Her throat was closed. ‘I’m sorry. It must have been… terrible for you.’

‘I got over it. No use mining for diamonds in a slagheap.’

‘All the more reason not to get it wrong this time, Connie.’

‘Aye. No one will ever fool me again. Not you. Not the angels. Not Uncle Tom Cobley.’

‘No one’s trying to fool you.’

‘The Wolf says you’re in cahoots with Crowley. I believe him.’

Jesus Christ, was there no way to reason with this woman?
‘Where is Crowley?’

‘Handcuffed to a bench in the garage.’

‘If I’m “in cahoots” with him, how come I haven’t freed him yet? Surely that’s the first thing I’d do.’

‘Maybe you have.’

‘Go and check if you want.’

‘I’m not going anywhere at your behest. Get yourself down here. Go and sit by the sneak thief.’

‘I—’

‘Now!’

Maddie walked down the steps. She went over to where Hannah was sitting in a puddle of her own blood. Now what was she going to do?

Connie ordered her to sit down. ‘Put your hands on your head where I can see them.’

Maddie raised her hands. She leaned closer to Hannah. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Not really.’

‘The baby?’

‘I don’t know. I think so.’

Connie interrupted the conversation. ‘She told me the baby was dead not five minutes since. You can’t trust a word that comes out of her mouth.’

‘We have to make sure mother and baby are okay, Connie. Surely you understand that?’

‘Baby Jacob, yes. The sneak thief can rot in the rhubarb patch for all I care.’

‘But the mother needs to be well if you want a healthy baby. You do want baby Jacob to be healthy, don’t you?’

‘Don’t patronise me. You know full I do.’

‘I’m going to bandage Hannah’s leg with my blouse. Is that all right with you, Connie?’

‘I don’t see why she gets priority over me.’

‘I’ll take a look at you in a minute. Just as soon as I’ve bandaged Hannah’s leg.’

‘That bitch stabbed me in the neck as well.’

Maddie fought an urge to tell Connie Sykes that she’d got all she deserved. ‘I’m sorry. I need to put the baby first. If we leave Hannah’s wound unattended, she’ll die.’

‘My heart bleeds!’

Maddie removed her coat and blouse. She balled up the blouse and pressed it into the wound. She then wrapped the arms of the blouse around Hannah’s leg and tied them together as tight as she could in a double knot.

‘Are you done pampering her?’

Maddie put her coat back on and buttoned it up to the neck. ‘She still needs to go to hospital.’

‘The Wolf says you’re an imposter.’

‘That’s because he feels threatened.’

Connie laughed. ‘Threatened? By who? You and your make-believe angels?’