A Spell of Murders, page 9
The pressure was starting to become unbearable now; he had to relieve it soon. He picked up the knife and approached the table once again.
All too soon, the screaming stopped completely and the pressure was gone.
***
Mike tried to keep his head looking straight ahead, locked in the brace position, as he drove Amy Walsh back to her home. He’d managed to wash the gravel out of his hand before leaving his house, but the cuts and scrapes were now getting sore and it hurt somewhat to grip the steering wheel, but that wasn’t the only reason he was struggling to concentrate. He didn’t need to use his psychic power to tell him that Dr Walsh didn’t entirely trust him; and if he was being honest, he wouldn’t trust him if he was her! He knew all too well how dangerous and frightening the Arts could be if you knew about them. To see them used without warning and having your life threatened at the same time would probably be enough to send most people over the edge. He suddenly realised how incredibly brave Amy Walsh must be.
He’d driven out of Redcar and back into Middlesbrough town centre, following the directions that she’d given him, and was now heading toward what used to be Aryesome Park. What had once been Middlesbrough Football Club’s stadium had, in recent years, been torn down to make way for trendy new flats. Two words that were very uncommon regarding Middlesbrough accommodation, in Mike’s opinion, especially those found in the town centre. He’d never really been to this part of town before and as he pulled into the estate, he was surprised to find that the flats were a fairly simple affair. He was expecting a young hotshot criminal profiler to have a bigger place than this. Guess the private sector of the legal profession wasn’t as well paid as he thought it was.
“My flat’s just round this corner,” Amy said as they reached the first junction in the estate. “It’s those down at the bottom… Oh no!”
For the first time since they’d left his house, Mike turned round to look at her. “What’s wrong?”
She turned toward him and gave a nervous smile. “Oh, nothing. Sorry. This is fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at half five, okay?”
“Uh, okay.” With that, she got out and dashed toward the flats without looking back.
Mike waved as she entered the main door, but she still didn’t turn around or acknowledge him. He gave a heavy sigh and wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into as he drove off back home.
Amy peered through the small, reinforced glass window in the door and breathed a sigh of relief as she watched Michael Walker drive away. That was a close one. She’d noticed the two cars that were double parked outside as they drove up and she just hoped they weren’t all looking out the window. What the hell were they doing here anyway? She took a quick look at her reflection in the glass; thankfully she’d knocked the top of her head so the bump was pretty much camouflaged by her hair so hopefully that would mean that they wouldn’t notice it. She made her way up the stairs to the second floor and unlocked her flat door. There were four people standing in the lounge, two men and two women, and they all turned to face her as she walked in.
Her sister was the first to speak, or rather shout, “Where the hell have you been?”
Amy had all the best laid plans of keeping her cool but, like all of her ‘discussions’ with members of her family, she failed miserably and just ended up stating the word, “Out.” She hoped that her tone was deliberate and final, but probably sounded more like the whining of an immature brat.
“Out where?” was her brother’s reply, in a voice filled with frustration.
She frowned at him. “You know, I’m getting sick of this. I’m not a kid anymore. What I get up to in my own time is none of your bleeding business.”
“It is when you’ve gone out in the middle of the night without taking your phone and not telling anyone where you’ve gone!” Emma virtually screamed at her.
Shit, she’d forgotten her phone when she left. She tried to think up some excuse then suddenly realised something else. “Hang on a minute. Exactly what are you two and Kev doing here anyway?”
Her ex-boyfriend looked up and smiled nervously. “Well, I came round to see you and Donna told me you were missing…”
“In other words, you came here to try and find out what I know about ‘You-Know-Who’ but when you found I was out, you tried to pump Donna for information…”
“Actually,” Dave interjected, “he came round and tried to pump Emma and me for information when he found out you weren’t here.”
“And the reason we’re here,” Emma said, “is because somebody called me because they were worried about you!”
Amy stared at her siblings for a moment, open-mouthed, then snapped her head over to look at Donna. Her flatmate smiled nervously. “I’m sorry, Amy, but I was worried. I mean, you ran out like that, then you didn’t come home and with everything that’s been happening…”
“So you called Emma?”
Her flatmate looked sheepish. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“So where have you been?” All eyes turned toward Kev.
“Why the hell are you still here, Kev?” Amy snapped suddenly. “Do us all a favour and get out of our flat.”
“Oh, come on, Amy. I’m just worried about you, that’s all… Hey!” Kev didn’t notice Dave grab his arm.
“You heard my sister, Kevin. She doesn’t want you around so why don’t you just leave?”
“Hey, this is police brutality.”
“I’m not on duty.”
“And, as a barrister,” Emma chipped in, “I’d advise you that, in my opinion, you’re trespassing on private property.”
“Why don’t you take a hint, Kev?” Donna suddenly piped in. “Nobody wants you around, just get out.”
Kev looked like he was going to say something, but one look from Amy made him think better of it. Dave released his grip and Kev simply walked between him and Amy without making eye contact with anyone there before dashing out through the door.
“Now, where the hell were you?” Emma yelled again.
Amy drew a long breath and tried hard to keep calm. “If you must know, I went to see my old university lecturer for some advice on helping produce the profile for you.”
Dave sneered. “Oh really? Well, you were a bloody long time doing it.”
“These things take time!” She suddenly realised that not only was she shouting but that she was standing aggressively with her hands on her hips. She sighed and shook her head. “Look, I’m sorry I made you all worry, but I’m home now and I’m clearly okay, so how about you guys just leave so we can all get to bed?”
Emma and Dave stared at her for a moment and they looked like they was seriously considering another argument, but in the end, both decided to just give up. Emma nodded politely at Donna and headed for the door without another word. Dave followed behind her and just as he reached the door, he turned back to Amy. “Just do us a favour and don’t go out late at night on your own until we catch this guy.”
“Come on, Dave,” Emma yelled from the hallway, “I need to get home. I’m in court tomorrow.”
Amy said nothing, but he’d made his point and she nodded as Dave hurried out after Emma. After they’d left and she’d locked the door, Amy turned to Donna, who said, “Look, Amy, I—”
Amy raised her hand. “Please, Donna, don’t. Not now. I’ve had a really long day and an even longer night.”
With that, she went to her room and closed the door behind her. She leaned against it and started to wonder what the extent of Michael Walker’s powers might be. Maybe, if she was lucky, he could make a couple of people disappear for her!
He wiped the knife down with a cloth before rubbing the sweat off his brow with the back of his right hand. He hung up the heavily stained apron on the nail he’d hammered into the wall and placed the gloves on the nearby bench. There was no doubt about it; that had been the most exhausting one he’d done yet, but it didn’t matter. At least the pressure was gone now.
He really needed to get rid of the mess but there was plenty of time to do that later. First he would take his prize back and place it with the others. He smiled to himself as he picked up the jar and left.
Chapter 19
“Don’t you agree, Mike? MIKE?”
“Wha…?” Mike suddenly realised that everyone round the table was looking at him and that the head of physics research had just asked him a question. He decided to go for the safe option. “Oh, sorry, Stuart. Yes, absolutely.”
Professor Stuart Cooke looked over the horn-rimmed glasses that had slipped down his nose for a moment. His old PhD supervisor had a strong face with gingery designer stubble. His hair loss was the only indication of his advancing age. He was also well-built and still walked tall; Mike always thought that this was a result of his former military service. This didn’t mean that he was a hard man, though, and he gave Mike a warm smile before continuing with the funding meeting. Mike breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the stars that he wasn’t the first academic who let his mind wander in an important meeting.
The truth was he hadn’t had much sleep the previous night. It was only when he got back from dropping Amy Walsh home that the adrenaline rush of the fight finally hit him. He tried having a glass of milk but it was no good and he tossed and turned all night and not just because of the pain in his right hand. God, he hoped nobody noticed the nicks and scratches.
When he finally got up the next morning, all he could think about was what he’d got himself into, teaching Amy Walsh about the Arts. A part of him thought that the whole idea was crazy and wondered how the hell he’d let her talk him into it. But there was also another part of him that was increasingly nagging him. The part of him that wanted to stop Mad Jack before anyone else got hurt. He now knew where he was, but that simply wasn’t good enough. He needed to know who he was if he was going to find him and Mike didn’t have the faintest idea how to find that out, but Amy Walsh did. He needed her help as much as she needed his if he was going to have any hope of convincing Chris and Jon that the killer was a member of the Order.
Amy Walsh. God, why was her surname so familiar to him? It was a common name, of course, but he couldn’t help feeling that he’d met another Walsh only recently and why was it bothering him so much?
He shook his head slightly and tried to concentrate, he was letting his mind wander again. He still thought that it was amazing that he’d got through his lunch break, let alone the two lectures and a tutorial he’d given that morning. The fact that he’d then managed to get through what was effectively a two-hour budget meeting in the afternoon was nothing short of a miracle.
Finally, the meeting ended and everyone seemed to simultaneously put their pens down and close their notebooks. “Uh, excuse me, Mike,” Cookey asked just as Mike was standing up to leave, “can you stay behind for a moment, please? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“Uh, sure, Stuart.” Mike sat back down, nervously wondering what this was about. He waited until everyone had left and Cookey closed the door behind them. “Um, is this about those exam papers? I mean I thought they were okay, I mean, please understand that it’s my first time doing them…”
“Oh no, those papers were fine, Mike,” Cookey said as he sat in the chair opposite him. “In fact, they were excellent.”
Mike breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. I’m glad to hear that.”
Cookey smiled. “Now that I’m finally back in the office, I just wanted to see how you’re getting on, after what happened last week.”
Mike sighed again, but also found himself smiling slightly. Cookey had been in the States the previous week at a conference and therefore wasn’t around when Kerry died. “Thanks, Stuart, I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry about Kerry.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Listen, I’ve managed to secure a bit of extra funding for some new library textbooks. I was thinking maybe we could include a dedication to Kerry in them.”
“That… would be great. Can I just have one request, please?”
“Um, of course.”
“I’d like to be the one who asks her parents.”
Cookey nodded and smiled. “Certainly. I think that would be best.” The two men stood up and shook each other’s hand warmly. “If you need anything, Mike, just let me know. You know Graham and I are here for you if you need us.”
“Thanks, Stuart, I appreciate that. How is Graham, by the way?”
“Oh fine. A lot better now that I’m back home. How’s your mother?”
Mike smiled and told him she was fine, and they talked about personal things for a time before heading back to their respective offices.
When Mike got back to his, he sat down at his desk before breathing a heavy sigh. Looking over at the clock on the wall, he saw that it was nearly twenty past five. She’d be here soon. His lack of sleep was starting to catch up with him now and he was just about to put his head down on the desk for a quick five-minute snooze when his phone rang. He jolted upright and picked up the receiver. “Hello, Dr Michael Walker speaking.”
“Hello, Dr Walker, this is reception. There’s someone here to see you.”
Oh, God, was she early?
“He says his name is Peter Simpkins and he’s wondering if you could possibly spare him a few minutes?”
Simpkins? The Order’s treasurer? What the hell could he want? Or maybe the correct question should be, what did Chris want? Well, there was only one way to find out. “Uh, yeah, tell him that I can literally spare five minutes if he’d like to come up now. Could you tell him where my office is please?”
“Of course, Dr Walker. I’ll send him right up.”
Mike checked the clock again. It was almost dead on twenty past now; he hoped he could make this quick. After what seemed like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than two minutes, there was a nervous little knock on the door. “Come in, Mr Simpkins.” Mike tried his best to sound cool and calm the way Jon always did but he was sure he failed.
The Order’s treasurer cracked the door open ever so slightly and peered his head round. Mike nodded for him to come in and the short man gingerly stepped inside. He was wearing the same brown suit that he had on the previous day but with a yellow shirt and no robes. He was carrying a large leather bag in his left hand and the end of his staff was poking out of it. Mike gestured for him to pull up a chair before starting to question him. “What can I do for you, Mr Simpkins? And I’ll warn you, please make it quick, I’ve only got five minutes and I’m expecting an important visitor.”
“Really, sir, who?”
“None of your business! Now what the hell do you want?”
Simpkins gulped. “Oh, uh, yes, well, Sir, um…” He was clearly nervous and unsure about precisely what he was supposed to be doing there.
Mike realised that this was getting him nowhere and sighed. The only way he could move things on was to calm down and help Simpkins do the same. “Look, I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to burst in on your meeting with Chris like that but I’d had a bad day.”
“Uh, yes, sir. I hope you… I mean, I hope I didn’t get you into too much trouble with Keeper Rawlins?”
Mike smiled and chuckled slightly. “Oh, don’t worry about Jon, I’ve had worse run-ins with him than that. Trust me; his bark’s much worse than his bite.”
Simpkins seemed to relax a little, he even gave a little smile. “I’m glad to hear that, sir, and may I just say that was a very impressive spell you used to, uh, open the vice-mage’s door.”
Mike couldn’t help but smile himself and laugh. “Thanks. It’s good to know I’ve still got it after being away for so long.”
“Uh, yes, sir. Though I must say you seem to have done very well for yourself away from the Order.” The little man gestured around the office. Mike got the impression that Simpkins was genuinely impressed.
“Thank you, I try.” Curiosity got the best of him and he found himself asking, “Tell me, have you always been with the Order?”
“Oh yes, sir, I come from a long line; both my parents served with the keepers and my elder brother is actually the vice-mage of the South Yorkshire Chapter.”
“Impressive.”
Simpkins looked down. “I know what you’re thinking, sir, and, uh, the truth is I’ve always been better with numbers than I have been with spells.”
“Fair enough.” Mike wasn’t actually thinking that at all but he did sympathise; he knew all too well the pressures parents could put on their kids to do what they expected of them. Not from his own, of course, but he’d seen enough students who were forced to study science because they thought it was best for them that he knew what Simpkins was talking about. He considered giving some of the usual encouragement he gave to his students but realised the treasurer’s problems were none of his business and decided to just press on. “We seem to have gone off on a bit of a tangent. What exactly can I do for you, Mr Simpkins? Like I say, I am expecting someone in a couple of minutes.”
Again, Simpkins shuffled nervously but this time he answered the question. “Oh, uh, yes, well, um, Vice-Mage Saban was just wondering what made you consider that the Order could be involved in such horrible things as you were saying last night? Uh, whatever they may be!”
Mike leaned back for a moment, interlocking his fingers behind his head and mentally counting to 10. So that was it. Chris did have suspicions that what he’d told him yesterday could be true, but rather than have the keepers officially look into it, he was carrying out his own investigation and rather than soil his own hands to find out what he needed from Mike, he’d sent Simpkins to do his dirty work for him. The wily old fox. “I can assure you, Mr Simpkins, that you can tell Vice-Mage Saban that I had my reasons for getting as upset as I did and that if he wants to discuss them further with me himself, then he knows where to find me. Now, if you don’t mind, I have an appointment at half—”
The phone rang again. “Excuse me. Yes, hello. Oh, excellent, Val. Could you ask her to just wait there and I’ll be down in a minute? Cheers, thank you.” He replaced the receiver and returned his attention to Simpkins. “That’s my appointment now. So, if you don’t mind, I have to go.”
