“Zoe Plumb? No, not yet. I sent a car round to her house but she wasn’t in. I suspect she is in on it. She ‘found’ the camcorder with the footage of Long being chased on it.”

  “That would fit with the two people running from the caravan, a man and a woman,” Vikki said. “If Roscoe turned up there for whatever reason, maybe they knocked him out and fled.”

  “Strange how someone can suddenly change from being a murder victim to a suspect in an assault case.”

  “It seems that everything to do with Trevor Long turns out strange.”

  Kinnear scratched the back of his neck. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that it was well past his lunchtime. “The doctors said that Roscoe had been injected with some kind of powerful tranquiliser. Plumb works as a vet’s assistant; it’s possible that’s where she got it from. So where now?”

  Vikki stared down at Roscoe. “Well, he isn’t going to be answering any questions for a while. I suggest we pay a visit to the vet’s. See if they’ve got anything missing from their stocks. Maybe they can give us an idea of where we might find Zoe.”

  Merryvale Pet Vets in Clatterbridge was only a short drive along the M53 from Arrowe Park hospital. Kinnear watched the cars flash by. “The thing I don’t get is why do this? Why go to all this trouble to fake your death. Why not just leave the area?”

  Vikki Chinn shrugged, keeping her eye on the road. “Long has a reputation for being involved in strange phenomena around here. Anywhere else, he’d be a nobody. Maybe he wanted to create an air of mystery around himself. What puzzles me more, though, is that if Long is still alive, where did all that blood come from? Forensics said it was his, but the amount recorded at the scene was huge. Anyone losing that much blood so quickly would have died.”

  They turned off the Clatterbridge roundabout and found themselves driving down a hedge-lined lane. Merryvale Pet Vets was a large complex built on an old farmyard. A large brick-built barn conversion flanked the customer carpark and beyond that, Kinnear could see a couple of large buildings, one with a tall chimney. “I heard an advertisement for this place on the radio,” he said. “It’s got its own pet crematorium, too. You can have your pooch baked here if you want.”

  Vikki pulled a face at him. “Really? I don’t think ‘baked’ is the right word. I think it’s quite touching that people want to give their pets a good send off.”

  “Seems a bit OTT to me,” Kinnear said, as they strode across the carpark. “Mind you, I only had a goldfish and we flushed that down the loo when it died.”

  Vikki rolled her eyes and pushed open the door to the vet’s reception. Kinnear almost walked into her. She stood frozen to the spot. Kinnear looked over her shoulder. It was an unremarkable waiting room with two rows of chairs along the walls. Sat in the middle of these was an old lady with a cat in a crate. A few posters clung to the walls, advertising wormer and warning about various terrible pet diseases. Zoe Plumb beamed at them from behind the counter. “Hi, welcome to Merryvale Pet Vets, do you have an appointment?”

  Chapter 31

  Emilio Ogden wasn’t really helping Alex in his attempt to climb out of the pit but to be fair, he had been beaten up. So he wasn’t in peak condition. Alex looked at him and wondered if those two words had ever applied to Emilio. The young man was stick thin, making his head seem oversized for his body. He reminded Alex of one of those poor souls photographed in Victorian slums.

  Alex had tried to get Emilio to give him a bunk up. At first, Emilio had squirmed and sworn whenever their naked flesh touched. “Oh, get off, man. This isn’t cool. I’m not gay you know!”

  Alex shook his head. “Grow up, Emilio, we’re trying to get out of this pit. I’m not really bothered about your sexual orientation, to be honest.”

  Even when Emilio obliged and allowed Manikas to use him as a stool to climb on, he collapsed under Alex’s weight.

  “You’re lighter than me. Let’s try the other way round,” Alex suggested. “If I cup my hands, you can climb onto my shoulders. Then try to wedge yourself into the corner and inch your way up.”

  Manikas grimaced as Emilio put his yellowed, sweaty foot into his interlocked fingers. The young man pushed up and Alex braced himself. The two of them grunted, Alex swore as Emilio’s foot landed on his shoulder and dug in. Then Emilio’s weight was gone, and he was lying on the floor groaning.

  “That fuckin’ hurt,” he said, doubled up and clutching his stomach.

  “Try to keep your balance when you’re up there. You can do it, Emilio!” He extended his hands again and bent over.

  Emilio looked up at him. “Nah. It’s too hard, man. I’m done.”

  “Look, mate. If we stay here and wait for them to come back, then we will be done. You don’t think they’re going to let us out of here alive?”

  “They might,” Emilio said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

  “Okay, Emilio. Listen, I’m a copper, right? Do you think they’re just going to let me go after keeping me down here all night? They’ll all go to prison.”

  Emilio still looked sulky but he was wavering. “Do you think?”

  “I know it. They can’t let us go. There’s too much at stake for them. But if we get away now, we’ll be safe. And we can get away. I promise.”

  Ogden’s eyes widened. “Okay, then…” Watching Alex warily, Emilio staggered to his feet. This time, he planted his foot squarely in Alex’s cupped hands and stepped onto his shoulders. Once more, his weight vanished and Alex saw him pressed against the sides of the pit, soil cascading down from his hands and feet. He pushed and wriggled, his head almost reaching the lip of the pit before he came sliding back down, cursing and spitting out loose soil.

  They stood panting for a second. “You almost did that, then,” Alex said. “Come on, try again. Third time’s the charm, as they say.”

  Emilio climbed onto Alex’s shoulders. This time, Alex got his hands under Emilio’s feet and used all his strength to push the lad up. “I’m nearly there!” Emilio whispered. Alex tried to look up but soil tumbled down, making his eyes gritty. He gave a grunt and stood on tiptoes, every muscle burning. Emilio’s weight vanished again and more soil tumbled down, but this time, it was a clod of grass, because Emilio had breached the top of the wall and was up. Alex just glimpsed his legs wriggling out of the hole. Then the lad’s head popped over. Alex put his thumbs up. “Well done! Now go and get help.”

  “Yeah, right. I’m in enough trouble as it is,” Emilio Ogden said. “You think I’d make things worse for me by helping you escape? I’m gone. See you, loser.” He vanished and Alex fell against the wall, sobbing with frustration and exhaustion.

  *****

  Blake stood in his kitchen, stirring a mug of coffee. He’d only made it to take his mind off Laura’s revelation. The fact that she had kept her past so well hidden made him anxious. What if he accepted that she was telling the truth about Kyle Quinlan only to be confronted with some other horror story later on?

  Or maybe Jeff was right; maybe Blake was too self-absorbed. Will had been open and honest about his past but then most of it was a matter of public record, given that he was in the public eye while it all played out. And perhaps he was being too needy expecting her to sympathise and prop him up while he anguished about what to do. He should respect her decision to move on from the past and not let it drag her back. Laura was the best thing that had happened to him in a long while. That was the trouble, though. Rejecting the chance of happiness was like a reflex with Blake. He genuinely didn’t think he deserved it.

  Gwen’s tarot reading had been uncannily accurate. Laura was the Queen of Swords; an abandoned woman who tells the truth. Jeff the Five of Swords, representing a person who puts their career first and lets you down. Gambles, the Knave of Swords; someone who spreads gossip and rumour. The only person who came out in a decent light there was Laura. Not that Blake held any truck with such nonsense, but it did clarify his thinking. Who could he trust? Certainly not Jeff. Gambles was malicious to the bone and wanted to hurt Blake; anything he said had to be taken with a whole sack of salt.

  “So, stop this messing about and go after her,” he said to the coffee mug as he set it down. Grabbing the keys to his Opel Manta, Blake strode across the hall and wrenched the front door open. Gwen stood there with her arm raised and about to knock.

  “Oh hi,” she said. “Is this a bad time?”

  “No,” Blake lied. “I – I thought I heard someone on the step… come in.”

  Gwen glided into the hall. “I don’t know why, but I just felt a sudden disturbance. Bad energy, you know? Your name popped into my mind. So I came to see if everything was okay.”

  Blake nodded. More like she saw Laura driving up the road with tears in her eyes. “I see,” he said. “No, everything is fine.”

  “Really?” Gwen said. She shivered and pulled the wrap she was wearing tighter around her shoulders. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

  “Tell me about the man who lives opposite you,” Blake said, trying to steer Gwen away from any talk of Laura. “The old man who seems to clip his hedge constantly.”

  “Oh, him,” Gwen said, her face became a mask of disapproval. “Ian Youde. A nasty piece of work.”

  “He didn’t seem very fond of cats when I spoke to him earlier.”

  “That man hates the world. Did you notice his garden?”

  “Very formal but blooming,” Will said.

  “Pumped full of chemicals. He clips everything to within an inch of its life. Flowers barely get a chance to bloom before they’re cut or pulled up. D’you know, he complained to me about the flowers in my garden once, said they were poisonous weeds.”

  “What was his problem?”

  “He said that they would spread into his garden and he didn’t want to spend his life pulling up ragwort and dandelions. Philistine! He can’t appreciate nature’s beauty.”

  “Did he ever complain about your cat?”

  Gwen shrugged. “He complained about everything. And have you seen those big sheds at the side of his house? I wouldn’t put it past him to have them trapped in there.”

  “Trouble is, I can’t just walk up there and demand to look in his sheds. I’d need a warrant even if I suspected far more serious things were going on.”

  “What could be worse than tormenting defenceless animals?”

  “I take your point, but the law doesn’t see it like that. Mr Youde’s property is protected, too. Otherwise every burglar in town would just say they were rescuing a cat.”

  “Then what can you do?”

  Blake narrowed his eyes. “Leave it with me.”

  Chapter 32

  The most private place Zoe Plumb could find to talk with Kinnear and Chinn was a side room where a row of cages lined one wall. Two or three small, nervous dogs yapped and scratched at the bars when they came in.

  “I’m sorry but our private rooms are being used at the moment for people saying goodbye to their pets before they’re cremated,” she said. “I should be over there, actually. I hope this won’t take long.”

  “Can you tell me what time you got into work this morning, Ms Plumb?” Vikki said.

  “First thing. Eight thirty, something like that. Why?”

  “Is there anyone who can verify that?” Kinnear said.

  “Yes. My boss, John Usher. Look, what’s going on?”

  “I’m afraid we can’t discuss that. Can we see Mr Usher, please?”

  “He’s quite busy, I’m afraid. We get a lot of people in the weekend surgeries. It’s more convenient.”

  “I’m going to have to insist,” Vikki said. “We won’t take up more of his time than is completely necessary.”

  Zoe’s face darkened. “Fair enough,” she said. “Follow me.”

  She led them out of the back room and across the waiting room where the old lady with the cat looked up hopefully at Zoe. She opened the door on another room and a man in a white coat was holding down a furious looking chihuahua. A thermometer poked out of its rear end. The man looked to be about Blake’s age, in his forties, small, with thinning blond hair and a pained expression on his face.

  “Zoe, love, I wish you’d knock…” he began but the dog saw its chance and sank its teeth into his wrist. “Ow! You little bastard!” He managed to restore his grip and extract the thermometer.

  “Sorry, John but these police officers would like a quick word.”

  John Usher’s face dropped and he looked pale. “Really?” The dog made another bid for freedom and the vet’s already bleeding wrist, but he held it firm.

  “Sorry to disturb you, Mr Usher but could you just confirm for us the time Zoe got into work today?” Kinnear said.

  “Yes,” he said, glancing from Kinnear to Zoe to Vikki and back again.

  “And what time was that?”

  “She’s been here all day. Got in bright and early. We had to operate on a ferret with cataracts, so we decided to do it before the weekend rush, didn’t we, Zoe?”

  “Yes,” Zoe said. “Poor old Rusty the ferret. He’s okay now though.”

  “Is there anything else?” Usher said, regaining his composure. “Only I have the joy of milking this little darling’s anal gland now and I’m happy for you to watch if you want but…”

  “No!” Vikki said. “Thank you for your time Mr Usher.”

  Zoe led them to the door. “I hope that’s cleared everything up,” she said. “Goodbye.”

  Out in the carpark, Kinnear stood by the car with his hands in his pockets. “Did that feel odd to you, Vikki?”

  “Bloody weird,” Vikki Chinn said. She peered across the carpark to the large buildings at the back of the surgery. “If Zoe has been here all day, then she can’t be involved with the assault at the caravan.”

  Kinnear nodded. “That vet didn’t convince me. Zoe could easily have made it back here from Thurstaston if he’s covering for her.”

  “Yeah. I’d love to have a snoop around,” Vikki said, scanning the buildings and outhouses that surrounded the car park. “I wonder what we’d find.”

  “This whole place looks a bit down at heel,” Kinnear said. “I mean, what was all that stuff about the weekend rush? There was one old lady with a cat. The place didn’t seem busy to me.”

  “Well, we can’t do much more here,” Vikki said. “She’s a hard-faced one that Zoe, isn’t she? I don’t think she’ll crack any time soon.”

  “No,” Kinnear muttered, “but Gary Stott will.”

  *****

  Theo, Kath Cryer’s boyfriend, sat up in bed, looking so much better than she felt. He still had drips and monitors attached to him but he seemed a hundred percent better than he had the day before. Kath sat at his bedside, struggling to keep her eyes open.

  “It’s weird,” he said. “The doctors can’t find anything wrong with me now apart from being a bit dehydrated. My cut isn’t infected, blood tests are all clear…”

  “It’s a curse,” Kath said in a small voice. “I walked on a grave and someone cursed me for it.”

  Theo frowned at Kath. “Are you trying to be funny, Kath? Only that’s the daftest thing I’ve heard in a long time. What are you on about?”

  “An old woman cursed me in the graveyard. I keep seeing her everywhere and I’ve had this water infection and Stanley keeps barking at nothing. There was a bloody crow in our bedroom. It’s a curse.”

  “Are you okay, Kath?” Theo said, peering closely at her. “Only you look terrible.”

  “I feel terrible. It’s the curse.”

  “Okay,” Theo said. “First off, there’s no such thing as being cursed. Secondly, if you’ve got a water infection and you haven’t treated it, then you could be hallucinating. Honestly, my nan had one and she thought she could see angels.”

  “I’ve got antibiotics,” Kath said wearily. “I haven’t seen any angels.”

  “Look Kath, why don’t you go home? I can get Baz or Dave to come and pick me up when they finally let me out.”

  “I don’t want to go home,” Kath snapped. “It’s creepy at home. I feel like I’m being watched all the time. There are noises upstairs. Doors bumping and banging for no reason.” She stood up. “I know I sound mad but it’s true. I’m gonna get some fresh air.”

  The air outside was cooler than inside the hospital but it wasn’t exactly fresh. Trios of patients huddled by the doors, dragging on cigarettes and ignoring the signs everywhere that said the whole site was a smoking-free area. Kath didn’t care. She just wanted to feel better.

  “’Scuse me,” a voice said next to her. She turned to see a shabby, down-at-heel old man. He wore an old, stained overcoat and Kath could see a frayed collar poking up around his neck. His face looked pinched and sad. “You wouldn’t have change for the carpark, would you? Only I’ve left my wallet at home and…”

  “Yeah, sure,” Kath said, rummaging in her handbag. “How much do you need?”

  “Just enough for the carpark. I think it’s £3.20…”

  “Here’s four,” she said, thrusting the cash into the old man’s cold hands.

  The man touched his finger to his head as though he was tipping his hat to her. “That’s very kind of you. Sorry for asking but, are you all right, yourself?”

  Kath let out a long sigh. “No. I feel shocking.” She hesitated, looking at the old man. “I think I’m going mad. Strange things have been happening. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I’d been cursed.”

  “Oh, now, there’s a problem,” he said, rubbing his bristly chin. “That’s never nice.”

  Kath looked at him, trying to see if he was being funny. “Really?”

  The old man raised his eyebrows. “My old Mammy was forever cursing people; the neighbours, the milkman, the dog, anyone or anything that didn’t go along with her. It was a troubling thing and meant we had to move along more than we should. In the end, all her cursing brought misery on our heads because we had no roof.”

  “It’s horrible,” Kath said. “I can’t rest or think about anything else. It’s doing my head in.”

 

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