Authors: Carrie Bedford
Tags: #Murder mystery, #Mystery, #cozy mystery, #London, #England, #English fiction, #Europe, #UK, #Paranormal, #ghost story, #Suspense, #female sleuth, #Women Sleuths, #auras
Leo pulled out a couple of wine glasses and uncorked a Montalcino that he knew I liked.
“We deserve this,” he said. “It was rough for a while not knowing what had happened to Aidan.”
Taking the glass from his hand, I sat on a counter stool. “He was lucky.”
Leo took the stool next to me and swiveled it to look at me. “You doing all right? You sort of fell apart back there.”
“I was scared,” I said. “I’m sorry I got all wobbly on you, but I didn’t know what to think. You must have felt the same way, though? Afraid that he’d been hit by the car?”
“Of course I did. But I suppose I’m good at taking things one step at a time and not panicking.” He paused and took a gulp of wine. “We’d better eat that food before we drink any more. Can you dish some up for the boys? We’ll let them eat in the living room.”
I went through the motions of putting food on plates and carrying them in to the boys, but my mind was on Aidan. I warned them not to spill on the sofa, but knew that Leo wouldn’t really care if they did. Some things were way down his list of things to worry about.
While Leo and I ate, I had an idea. “How about if I get a cell phone for Aidan? I can add a line to my plan. At least this evening he would have been able to call you to tell you what had happened.”
Leo shook his head, swallowing his food before answering. “I don’t want him to have a phone yet. He’ll spend hours texting his friends and he’d never think to use it for anything as practical as a call to me. It would be a waste of money.”
“But a phone is a good safety device,” I insisted. “Just a precaution in case he ever needs to get hold of you urgently.”
Leo put down his knife and fork and looked at me.
“So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you? You’ve been fretting about Aidan ever since you got here, and didn’t want to let him out of your sight. Now you’re talking about safety and urgent calls. I don’t get it.”
“I just have a bad feeling,” I stopped when I saw the look on Leo’s face.
“A bad feeling about what?”
“I don’t know, just a feeling.”
Leo stood up to carry his plate to the sink.
“Are you going to explain that?”
“I can’t,” I replied. I wound a thread of hair around my finger, tighter and tighter until the blood stopped flowing and my finger turned numb.
“Can’t or don’t want to?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Try me. I’m a smart guy.” Leo’s tone was cold.
“Aidan has the moving air over his head. Like Francesca.”
“Jeez, Kate. I thought we discussed that and agreed it was a mirage or something.”
“We didn’t agree, Leo. The aura predicts death. My friend Rebecca had one and she died.”
Leo held up his hand. “Hold on. Someone you know died? Since I last saw you?”
“Two people. That little girl I thought I’d saved from drowning, and a friend. It’s crazy, I know.”
“Crazy? It’s fucking lunacy,” he replied. I winced as though he had slapped my face. He never swore and I couldn’t remember the last time he’d lost his temper with me.
“So you are telling me that you can see this air rippling over Aidan’s head,” he continued, “and that makes you think he’s going to die? Of what?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “Don’t shout. The boys will hear you.”
“Right,” he said, coming back to sit down next to me. “Tell me what you do know.”
I told him about Rebecca and Sophie, and then about Alan and how his aura had disappeared.
“So the outcome can be changed?” Leo asked, keeping his voice low.
“Yes. With Alan, I didn’t do anything. Something came up at home and that changed everything he’d planned to do that weekend. The danger passed. His aura disappeared.”
Leo took another big gulp of wine. “So what do you think is going to happen to Aidan? Christ, I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. This is my boy we’re talking about. I couldn’t… if anything happened to him…”
I reached out and put my hand over his. “I’m sorry.”
“When? I mean, how long?”
I took a deep breath. It was surreal, talking like this. “The aura is very faint and that does seem to have some significance. I think the clearer it is, the sooner the event is likely to happen. But, honestly, Leo, I don’t know anything for certain. This is all new and overwhelming. I’ve had, what, four experiences. Not enough to be sure of anything.”
Leo was watching me. He seemed to be battling a potent mix of anger and disbelief.
“Kate, I’m a mathematician. I deal in facts, numbers, reality. This is, I don’t know, a phantasma. It’s not real.”
“You think I’m delusional, that none of this has actually happened?” I heard my voice rising, a knife edge of hysteria cutting through my self-control. “Why would I make something like this up, Leo? I hate it. I hate seeing that something bad is going to happen to someone. I wish I couldn’t.”
“You okay, Aunty Kate?” It was Gabe, who had come in with the two empty plates. He put them in the sink and stared at me, his eyes wide. “Are you two arguing?”
“No, we’re not,” said Leo. “But we do need to carry on a private conversation, please.”
“Can I get some ice cream first? Before you go back to arguing?”
Without waiting for an answer, he hurried to the freezer and took out a pint of ice cream. Grabbing two spoons from the drawer, he rushed out of the kitchen.
I blinked several times, feeling hot, heavy tears in my eyes.
“So what am I supposed to do?” Leo asked. “Believe you and accept that Aidan is in danger, or ignore everything you’ve said and suggest you get some medical help? What kind of choice is that, Kate? I don’t want to believe you. How could I?”
His shoulders slumped. “Fuck it,” he said. He finished the rest of his wine.
The tears fell down my cheeks and I watched them fall, unhindered, on to the granite countertop.
I left Leo’s early on Sunday, after a breakfast eaten mostly in silence. He seemed incapable of looking at me and I couldn’t find any words to bridge the chasm that had opened between us. Kissing Aidan on the forehead, I’d told him to be good. Seeing the aura made me feel nauseous.
On Sunday afternoon, I went to the mobile phone store to buy a cell phone. It was a fairly simple model, but it had a keyboard for texting and I set it up on a basic calling plan. I packaged it and addressed it to Aidan. I knew Leo wouldn’t approve, but I had to do something.
By Sunday evening, I was pacing my apartment, feeling lonely and afraid. Leo and I had never argued before, and I felt the withdrawal of his love and support, like breath had been sucked from my lungs. I hadn’t heard from Josh either, although I didn’t blame him for staying away.
I hated these auras. And I still had to think about Nick. On an impulse, I decided to go see him. Perhaps I could convince him to take my warning seriously. Maybe not, but at least I had to try.
The journey was easy, the Tube fairly empty, but it was an uncomfortable feeling to be back outside Rebecca’s apartment. The unlit windows made me shiver. I rang the doorbell for Nick’s flat. It was Gary who answered.
“It’s Kate Benedict. I’d like to talk to Nick, please?”
“Nick’s out.” Gary’s tone was brusque.
“Can I come up and talk to you?” I asked. When the front door buzzed, I pushed it open, jogging up the stairs to Gary’s flat before he could change his mind. He opened the apartment door.
“What do you want?”
“Can I come in?”
He hesitated before pulling the door open. The layout of the flat was just like Rebecca’s, but this one was furnished in chrome and black leather with burnt orange walls.
“Would you like a drink? Coffee, wine? Martini?”
“Wine, please.”
While Gary was making our drinks, Caspian appeared, rubbed himself against my leg, and then sprinted away up the hall. I loved the way cats did that, acting on impulses we didn’t see or understand.
Gary handed me a glass and sat on the sofa opposite me. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
His short dark hair was gelled into bristles that seemed to reflect his personality. Either he was just a prickly person or he really didn’t like me for some reason.
“How’s Nick doing?” I asked. “Has he handled the murder inquiry okay?”
Gary shrugged. “I suppose so. He was really upset about Rebecca. He never stops talking about her.”
“You weren’t friends with Rebecca?”
“Not like Nick, no. He used to go up there often, to play with the cat or whatever. He and Rebecca spent a lot of time together.”
So Gary was jealous of Rebecca, I realized. I remembered what Nick had said about being bisexual. Was it possible he was having an affair with Rebecca? But if he were, what about Edward? I found it hard to imagine that Rebecca was two-timing her boyfriend, or that Nick was, for that matter.
I sipped my wine. Gary was drinking something golden and strong smelling; Scotch, I guessed.
“So are you going to tell me what it was you wanted? Nick will be back soon. He’s working late, again.” He gave a theatrical sigh.
“Listen, Gary. I’m going to tell you something that will sound weird, but please hear me out.”
He smirked. “I’m good with weird. Bring it on.”
“I can see auras around people that predict death,” I said, deciding subtlety was not the right approach with him. “And Nick has one, an aura. Rebecca had it too, and a couple of other people I know who have since died.”
“You’re a dangerous woman to know, Kate,” he said, knocking back his drink. “Hold on, I’ll be back.”
He went to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of Glenmorangie. He poured himself another generous shot.
“So these auras,” he said. “What do they look like?”
“Clear air rippling around the head and shoulders. The faster the ripples, the closer the danger.”
“And you don’t know what will kill someone or when?”
I shook my head.
“Well, that sucks,” he said. “I mean that’s kind of like telling me I’ll win the lottery but only if I pick the right numbers. What’s the point of being able to foresee something if you don’t know the place or time, or how? As fortune-tellers go, Kate, you’re pretty lame.”
“I agree with you,” I said. I wanted to slap him, but mustered a smile instead. “It does suck. However, we may be able do something to help Nick.”
I explained how the aura had disappeared after Alan changed his plans. “So it’s possible to change the outcome,” I said. “I’m hoping we can pinpoint some areas of potential danger. Do you have any trips coming up, for example?”
“There’s the bungee jump scheduled for Saturday,” said Gary. “And the scuba dive on Sunday.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“What do you think? No, there are no dangerous weekend pursuits, no travel planned. We’re too busy right now.”
“What about changing his routine? Taking a different route to work? Maybe he could skip work for a while?”
“I could make him stay in the house for a month,” Gary said. “That would eliminate accidents with cars and buses I suppose, and random violence on the street.”
“Yes,” I said, thinking he was actually taking me seriously, but then he laughed.
“That’s not going to happen,” he said. “Besides, who’s to say that the danger isn’t a heart attack, or an airplane crashing through the roof, or a gas explosion. Or he could just die of boredom from being cooped up here for days on end.”
He drained his glass and poured another measure of liquor into it.
“And let’s not forget that Rebecca was killed in her own home, where she should have been safe. So, on balance, I don’t think locking Nick in the apartment is a good idea.”
The hair on the back of my neck prickled at Gary’s words. Not being safe at home. Was Aidan safe even when Leo was there looking out for him? I leaned back on the leather couch, which creaked and sighed when I moved.
“Any health issues he’s not attending to? Anything you can think of?”
Gary drained his glass and put it down on the coffee table. “Listen, I appreciate your concern, but…” He shrugged. “Did you talk to Nick about this?”
“I did. But he didn’t take it very seriously. He laughed at me, in fact.”
“I can’t blame him for that.”
I got to my feet and put my half-finished glass down.
“Thanks for listening, anyway,” I said. “Are you coming to Rebecca’s funeral?”
“I doubt it. I’m sure Nick will go.”
He walked me to the door and glanced along the hall towards the stairs that led to Rebecca’s flat.
“I heard some new renters have applied to move in up there,” Gary said. “A married couple. Hope they don’t believe in ghosts. I wouldn’t want to live in a place where someone died. But it will be good to have a couple there, you know what I mean?”
“Not a young woman who takes up too much of Nick’s time?”
“Something like that.”
***
I thought about it for several hours before calling Inspector Clarke. I had no evidence, nothing more than a feeling, but I felt I had to share it. Gary was jealous of Nick. Was he jealous enough to have confronted Rebecca?
Did Nick know? Was he protecting Gary? He seemed to be making up excuses for not getting to the police station to work on the identity picture. Was he stalling for time? Were the visitor sightings just made up to distract the police? I reached Clarke’s voicemail and told him I had some information. When he rang back thirty minutes later, I recounted my conversation with Gary. As always, Clarke was non-committal. I didn’t know if he thought it was useful or extraneous. But that was up to him.
Just before I hung up, I remembered what Rebecca’s parents had said about the toxicology tests and asked Clarke if he had the results yet.
“The initial report shows no alcohol in her system at all,” he said.
“So someone did plant the wine glass and bottle to make it look as though she’d been drinking?”
“That appears to be the case,” he said. “And while I have you on the line, can you remind me where you were on that Sunday evening?”
“I’ve already told you,” I said. “I left the restaurant at about two in the afternoon and went home. I was by myself in my apartment until Monday morning. I don’t have an alibi, but I didn’t kill Rebecca. What possible motive could I have?”