The Eighth Witch (7 page)

“Come on then,” Annie said. “Tell me why you’re still here. What changed your mind?”

“I spent the night tossing and turning, thinking mostly about Susan Grant and her horrible suicide.”

“And what conclusion did you come up with?” She signaled to turn and pulled out of the hospital car park and onto the main road.

“Maybe I was too hasty. I was angry with you for inviting me here on an ulterior motive. We’ve always been straight with each other…even when it hurt.”

She changed gear. “I know. It was stupid of me. I regretted it as soon as you arrived, but by then it was too late. Am I forgiven now?”

“Of course.”

“But if I’d told you I wanted you to investigate some suspicious deaths, would you still have come?”

“I doubt it. I meant what I said about being burnt out. The last few years have been hell, and I do feel I need to rest up and recharge my batteries.”

Annie was silent for a moment, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. Finally she said, “What I saw in that hospital room was not a man yearning for rest and relaxation. Admit it, Rob, what you do is a intrinsic part of who you are. I recognized that years ago. If you weren’t involved in something weird you’d be climbing the walls.”

He smiled ruefully. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“I know I’m right.” She signaled again and turned onto a smaller road that took them across country, away from the main drag. “So tell me what you saw in Henry Norton’s mind.”

“It wasn’t pleasant.”

“The way you recoiled away from him, I hardly thought it was. So tell me.”

Carter sighed and recounted what he saw—the curtains, the corridors, Norton crouched naked in the corner of the chamber and the woman.

“And you think it was the same woman that attacked him on the towpath.”

“No doubt about it.” He lit a cigarette and opened the window to let the smoke out. “I suspect it was a demon of some kind. I’ve encountered similar before.” He flicked ash into the slipstream. “A lesser demon, I think, but vicious nonetheless.”

“Does it have a name, this demon?”

He shook his head. “Not that I’m aware.”

“Why did it attack Henry?”

“I don’t know, but I suspect it was being directed.”

“Directed?”

“These lesser demons are, on the whole, pretty mindless, and fairly easy to control if you know the right summoning spells.”

“Hired muscle then.”

Carter laughed. “I suppose it was, yes, though I’ve never regarded them quite that way.”

“So you think there was someone else out to get Henry. Someone who summoned a demon to do their dirty work for them.”

“It’s likely. Years ago the department was investigating a case and came across a man, a thoroughly evil bastard called Edward Mangan, who could summon these lesser demons and use them to do his bidding. He was a businessman and he used the demons to eradicate his business rivals. He killed three people like that.”

“How did you stop him?”

“We didn’t. He was over-confident and he lost control of them. The demons ripped him to shreds.”

“Christ! You make it sound so mundane. Just another day at the office.”

“A lot of the time that’s just what it’s like. Once you get your head around the fact that what we see and experience on an everyday level is just a tiny part of what is actually out there, it’s easier to deal with. You’re one of the lucky ones. Your time at the Kansas institute opened your eyes to the possibilities. That’s another reason why I’m still here. I trust your judgment. I know you’re not just the victim of an overactive imagination like so many people.”

“Well, thank you for that. But then I never thought I was.”

Carter ground out the cigarette in the car’s ashtray and lit another.

“You smoke too much,” Annie said.

“It’s been said before. But I’m past caring these days. I’ll die when it’s time for me to die.”

“Oh, very fatalistic.”

“True though. Believe me, I’ve come very close to it over the last few years, but I’m still here, so I have to assume there’s a reason for that.”

A light drizzle was falling from a thunderous-looking sky. Annie switched on the wipers. “It’s funny,” she said. “I never had you pegged as the religious type.”

“Religion’s got nothing to do with it, at least not in the conventional way. But you can’t do what I do without realizing that there are much greater forces at work out there. The universe is like some gigantic machine. We’re just the tiny cogs that keep the machine running. We’re put here for a purpose and it’s up to the individual to discover what that purpose is. I think it’s fortunate that very few people ever do.”

“Fortunate? Why?”

“Because if they knew they would be so weighed down with the responsibility of fulfilling that purpose it would probably drive them insane.”

“And do you know what your purpose is?”

“Good God, no. I just drift through it all, blown about like a reed in the wind.”

“Well, if you don’t know, I don’t hold out much hope for the rest of us.”

They passed an ornate sign on the left-hand side of the road.
Welcome to Ravensbridge
.
 

“Nearly home,” Annie said.

“Take us down to the canal. I want to see if Holly’s turned up.”

“Are you worried about her?”

Carter nodded. “I think she may be in danger, simply through her association with Norton. Whoever orchestrated the attack did so for a reason. We need to find out what that reason is.”

Annie parked in the car park of the Three Tuns pub and led Carter down a steep path to the canal.

“Holly’s boat is about fifty yards along, just the other side of the bridge.” She threaded her arm through Carter’s. “It’s so good to see you again, Rob,” she said.

“Same here,” he said.

A few yards before they reached the bridge, Carter stopped. “This is where it happened. This was where Norton was attacked.”

“Really? How can you tell?”

“I can still feel her. The demon. This is where she struck.”

Annie glanced around nervously. “I can’t feel anything,” she said.

“You won’t. It doesn’t matter. Come on. Just up here, you say?”

“It’s that boat there. The one with all the paintings.” She pointed to a narrow boat twenty yards away. It was nestled between two others, but was set apart from its neighbors by its sheer exuberance. Holly Ireland obviously loved her home. It was there in every brush stroke of every crude painting.

As Carter climbed aboard and tried the door, Annie cupped her eyes with her hands and peered through one of the side windows.
 

“No reply,” Carter called. “Anything?”

“No. She’s not here.”

Carter stepped back onto the bank. “Is there anywhere she hangs out? A pub? Club?”

Annie shook her head. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve only ever seen her here.”

“Hey! You two!”

They turned to see Holly Ireland emerge from under the bridge, walking towards them. She was wearing the same clothes as the night before.

Annie ran to greet her. “Holly! Thank God you’re all right.”

“All right? Why shouldn’t I be all right?”

“The police are looking for you.”

The smile slipped from Holly’s lips and confusion clouded her eyes. “Why on earth are the police looking for me?”

“Did you come back here last night?” Carter said. “After you left Annie’s?”

“No. I went straight round to Sarah’s. Sarah Bennett, a friend of mine. Henry was in a combative mood last night and I didn’t fancy spending the night with him. And all that talk of death was starting to freak me out, so after I left I went round to Sarah’s and we sunk a couple of bottles of Soave and crashed out about four, drunk as skunks. Why the questions?”

“Can we go inside?” Annie asked.

“Sure,” Holly said. She hopped aboard the narrow boat and unlocked the door, disappearing inside. Annie and Carter followed.

Inside Holly was at the sink filling the kettle. “I need a cup of tea. I’m parched. Actually, dehydrated would describe it better. And my head… You two?”

“Tea would be good,” Carter said.

“Coffee for me please,” Annie said.

Holly flicked the switch on the kettle, then went across to one of the bunks and sat, tucking her legs underneath her. “Now will you tell me why the police are looking for me?”

Annie sat down next to her and took her hand. “It’s Henry. He was attacked last night on his way home from mine.”

Holly looked at her incredulously. “Henry? Attacked? That’s ridiculous. Who on earth would attack Henry?”

“That’s what the police are trying to find out,” Carter said. “It’s why they want to talk to you.”

“They think I attacked him?”

“No, I didn’t say that. I think they just want to check everyone’s whereabouts.”

Holly looked about her, as if noticing for the first time that Henry wasn’t there.

“Ridiculous,” she said again. “Where’s Henry now?”

“Calderdale Royal Infirmary,” Annie said. “It was quite a vicious attack.”

“But he’s going to be okay, right?”

“It’s too early to tell.”

Holly snatched her hand away. “What are you telling me here? No! No, I don’t believe you.” She pushed off the bunk and went across to the kettle, pulling mugs from a cupboard.

Carter stepped forwards. “I’ll do that. You sit down. You’ve had quite a shock.”

Holly looked at him as if trying to digest what he was saying. She stared down at the mugs. “Yes,” she said at last. “You do it.” And then she started to cry. Annie came across and put her arm around Holly’s shoulders and led her back to the bunk.

Carter finished making the drinks and handed a mug of tea to Holly and passed a coffee to Annie.

“How has Henry seemed recently?” Carter said.

“Sorry?” Holly said.

“His mood. Has he been distracted? Did he seem like something was bothering him?”

Holly managed a smile. “No more than usual. He’s mostly always distracted by his work. And always a little paranoid too. Last weekend he was convinced someone was following him.” She suddenly realized what she was saying. “Oh my God. Perhaps he wasn’t being paranoid. Perhaps he was being followed.” She jumped up from the bunk suddenly and pulled open a cupboard under the worktop. “I laughed when he brought this home last week, but he said he needed it to protect his work.” In the cupboard was a small, but very robust-looking safe. “It was a bugger to get it in here…almost gave himself a hernia, but he seemed much happier when he’d locked everything away.” She sat back down.

“You said he was combative last night. What prompted that?” Carter said.

“Me probably. I’m sorry, Annie, but I really didn’t want to come last night. Henry told me you had Robert coming to stay, and he thought it would be invaluable to have his input. Said it would help his research immensely. I knew we would be revisiting those horrendous deaths again and, quite frankly, I was sick of hearing about them. It’s all Henry’s been banging on about for months.”

“So what was the subject of his research?”

“Oh, that’s an easy one,” Holly said. “Witchcraft in the Calder Valley. Witchcraft is one of his obsessions. One of the first books he wrote was a history of the Salem witch trials. He’s had an interest in it ever since.”

Carter turned to Annie. “Did you know that was what he was working on?”

She shook her head. “I knew he had some theories about the deaths, but Henry always plays his cards very close to his chest. He’s a very secretive man. I rather hoped he’d open up to you last night, but he seemed to resent you being here, which is odd if, as Holly said, he thought you might help him with his research.”

“He was testing you out,” Holly said to Carter. “To see if he could trust you. I told you, he’s quite paranoid.”

“Do you know the combination to the safe?” Carter said. “I’d like to see his research for myself.”

Holly bit her lip pensively. “I do, but I don’t think I should tell you it. Henry would be furious with me.”

“Do you want to know who attacked him?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then let me see his research. It might point the finger at whoever put him in the hospital.”

Holly thought for a moment, and then slowly nodded as she came to a decision. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll tell you the combination if you’ll drive me to the hospital to see him.”

Carter smiled. “Deal,” he said.

Chapter Eight

“Thirty-three clockwise,” Holly said and twisted the dial. “And forty-two counter-clockwise. That’s it.” She turned the combination lock again, felt the tumblers click into place and then turned the handle. “Got it.” She pulled open the safe door and peered inside. The safe was half-full—cream folders stuffed with papers, three leather-bound notebooks, a black leather organizer and a laptop computer.