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Authors: Shaun Hutson

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BOOK: Warhol's Prophecy
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Hailey took a step back and looked up at the first-floor windows.

No sign of movement behind the curtains.

Perhaps he
wasn’t
home.

And if he’s not? How many times do you come back?

She rang the bell again.

Still no answer.

Hailey crossed to the bay window, cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the glass.

She could see very little.

The path led on to a wooden gate at one side. This obviously led to the back of the house.

She saw a latch on the gate and lifted it, pushing against the weathered wood.

The gate didn’t budge.

Hailey muttered under her breath and pushed harder.

The gate swung open and she almost overbalanced.

A narrow path continued down the side of the house, flanked on the left by some out-of-control privet hedge that also acted as a barrier between Walker’s house and the dwelling next door.

Hailey moved slowly along the path, pieces of untrimmed privet scratching at her clothes and face. She emerged into the back garden.

For a moment she stood still, remembering the last time she had been here at Walker’s house.

Remembering it because you enjoyed it?

She crossed to the back door and knocked.

No answer.

Hailey peered through various windows, but saw nothing. If Walker
was
inside, then he had no desire to speak to her.

Because he had something to hide? Because he was ashamed?

She returned to the back door and twisted the handle.

Locked.

In frustration, she banged again, harder this time. Only silence.

Hailey murmured something angrily and headed back up the path to the side of the house.

The gate had swung shut.

She wrenched it open.

The figure before her seemed to appear from nowhere.

68
 

H
AILEY BARELY MANAGED
to suppress a scream.

She took a step back, colliding with the gate.

The woman standing there looked in her late fifties: pudgy-faced and dressed in a blue cardigan and brown slacks. She seemed as surprised as Hailey by this sudden confrontation, and she too stepped back.

‘Sorry,’ Hailey said breathlessly. ‘You scared me.’

The woman eyed her appraisingly for a moment, then managed a smile.

‘I didn’t mean to,’ she said and Hailey heard a slight Northern lilt in her accent. ‘Only I saw you arrive and I was coming over to tell you that Mr Walker’s out. I wasn’t being nosy, you understand, but we’ve had a few burglaries in the area, so we all keep an eye out. We’ve got this neighbourhood-watch thing – very good idea. I thought I remembered seeing
you
here with Adam once before. That’s why I came over. I didn’t want to leave you hanging around. I don’t think Adam would be too happy if he came back and found his girlfriend standing out on the doorstep, would he?’

‘No,’ said Hailey softly. ‘He probably wouldn’t.’

His girlfriend? What the hell had he been saying?

‘I suppose you were trying to surprise him,’ the woman said.

Hailey nodded.

‘We live next door,’ the woman added, motioning towards the house on the left.

She paused a moment longer, then turned to leave.

‘How well do you know, Mr Walker – Adam?’ Hailey said, as if anxious that the woman should remain.

‘Well, he keeps himself to himself mostly. People do around here, don’t they? My husband’s always laughing at me for saying that. You know, that Northerners are more friendly than Southerners.’ She grinned. ‘We’ve lived here for more than forty years. We’ve seen lots of people come and go. We moved down here in 1949 – no, I tell a lie, 1950.’

‘Do you know Adam’s family?’ said Hailey, interrupting her musings.

‘Well, like I said, everyone minds their own business around here, but we used to speak to his father quite regularly. A very nice man. It’s a terrible shame he’s ill.’

‘What about his mother?’

The neighbour looked away from Hailey and crossed her arms.

‘I don’t agree with what she did,’ said the woman indignantly. ‘Running around with another man. And the worst thing is, she made no attempt to hide it. I mean, you don’t do things like that when you’re married, do you?’

No, you don’t, do you?

Hailey shook her head slowly.

‘And married to a vicar as well,’ the woman continued. ‘It’s a disgrace. I felt for Adam, poor little chap. I think he was only six or seven at the time. It’s always the kiddies who suffer when marriages break up, isn’t it?’

Hailey nodded almost imperceptibly.

‘Mind you, his father did a good job of bringing him up alone. It’s not easy for a man on his own, is it? Especially not a man in
his
position. But he can be proud of what he’s done. Adam is a lovely lad, but then you don’t need
me
to tell you.’

She laughed warmly.

‘Did you see much of the brother and sister before they left home?’

The woman looked vague. ‘Whose?’ she asked.

‘Adam’s. He’s got a brother and a sister, he told me.’

‘Well, if he has he’s done a good job of keeping that quiet.’ The woman smiled.

‘The sister apparently had a small child, a boy. Adam said the boy was killed in an accident about a year ago. You
must
have seen them about.’

‘I think you’ve got your wires crossed somewhere, love. Adam never had a brother or a sister. He’s an only child.’

69
 

S
HE COULDN’T SLEEP
.

Despite the fact that Hailey could barely keep her eyes open, the merciful oblivion of sleep still eluded her.

She sat up, exhaling deeply. Thoughts whirled around inside her head like some kind of emotional twister.

Walker was an only child.

Hailey ran a hand through her hair.

There had been no terrible hit-and-run accident involving his nephew, because he didn’t have one.

What the hell was going on?

‘You OK?’

She looked across to see that Rob was lying on his side looking at her.

‘Yeah,’ she lied, ‘I’m fine.’

He raised one eyebrow.

‘All right,’ Hailey confessed, ‘I’m not.’

‘Do you want to talk about it? Is it
me
?’

She almost laughed.

‘For the first time in ages, no,’ she said, and now Rob smiled too.

He reached across and held her hand.

Tell him the truth.

She swallowed hard.

But what
is
the truth?

‘It’s work,’ she told him, lying back on her pillow and gazing straight ahead. ‘As the gig gets closer, everyone’s more tense. The organization is a bloody nightmare. Trying to make sure everyone’s got what they want. Making sure no one’s toes are stepped on. Dealing with so many fucking egos.’

‘It’s what you wanted.’

‘I know, and I don’t regret going back, but things are starting to get a bit frayed around the edges at the moment, that’s all. The gig’s in two weeks. I just wish it was all over.’

‘And?’

She looked at him. ‘And what?’ she wanted to know.

‘What
else
is bothering you?’

‘Nothing. Really, Rob. I’d tell you if there was.’

Liar.

‘Are you sure it’s not me?’ he enquired. ‘More of
those
thoughts about what happened with me and Sandy?’

‘I think about it from time to time. I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t. And it’s going to be a long time before I ever completely forgive you, Rob. But this time it
isn’t
you that’s bothering me.’

‘Thanks for that vote of confidence,’ he said, swinging himself out of bed.

She watched as he padded towards the bathroom, pausing by one of the windows, peering out.

‘What is it?’ she asked, seeing him cup his hands around his eyes, squinting into the gloom.

‘I’m not sure,’ he murmured.

Hailey also got out of bed, joining him at the window.

He snaked an arm around her waist.

‘I thought I saw something move,’ he whispered. ‘Down in the garden. Over by the bushes.’

At the bottom of their garden, a thick growth of wild blackberry and gorse bushes separated their property from the one adjacent. In the blackness of the night it was almost impossible to pick out shapes.

‘Probably a cat,’ Hailey said, hoping she was right.

‘Yeah, probably,’ Rob echoed.

He turned to kiss her on the cheek, then they both squinted through the gloom once more, watching for any signs of movement. At that moment, the security alarm went off.

70
 

H
AILEY’S BREATH FROZE
in her lungs as the deafening explosion of sound ripped through the night.

‘Shit,’ hissed Rob, his voice barely audible above the shrill two-tone alarm.

He ran to his side of the bed and pulled on a pair of jogging bottoms, then he slid his hand beneath the bed and pulled out the baseball bat he kept there.

Protection?

Hailey pulled on a long T-shirt, her hands shaking as she draped it over her head.

‘Mum.’

She heard Becky cry out from her room, and Hailey hurried off to be with her daughter.

Rob was already advancing across the landing, the bat held in one hand.

‘Rob, don’t go down there,’ Hailey called to him as he paused at the top of the stairs.

‘Just call the police,’ he shouted back, and she realized that these words were as much for the benefit of whoever else might be inside their house as for her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered reading something in a magazine advising that if you suspected burglars had broken in, you make as much noise as possible. Frighten them off.

Frighten
them
off? That was a fucking laugh.

Hailey’s heart was hammering madly against her ribs as she entered Becky’s room to find the little girl sitting up in bed, arms outstretched. Hailey swept her up and held her tightly.

‘It’s all right, babe,’ she said, wishing she believed that.

Becky clung tightly to her mother, the sound of the alarm still screaming in her ears.

‘Rob, be careful,’ Hailey called, watching as her husband still peered over the balustrade, trying to see into the gloom of the hallway below.

If he heard her, he didn’t acknowledge her. She watched as he descended the stairs quickly.

‘What’s happening, Mum?’ Becky blurted out.

Hailey held her more tightly. ‘It’s all right,’ she said again. ‘The alarm’s gone wrong. Dad’s going to fix it.’

She heard Rob reach the bottom of the stairs.

He looked at each of the closed doors facing him in turn, then reached for the alarm control-pad, jabbed in the numbers and silenced it.

The silence seemed worse than the constant ringing.

He could hear his own blood rushing in his ears.

Rob looked at the panel and noticed that one of the blood-red zone-lights was flashing.

Zone Four.

Wherever the fuck
that
was.

Each of the rooms bore a different zone number, but he couldn’t remember which was which.

Zone Four?

Kitchen? Sitting room? Dining room? Study?

He would have to check them all.

He moved to the sitting-room door first, rested his hand on the handle, then shoved it open, simultaneously slapping at the light switches.

The room was instantly illuminated.

Rob stepped inside. He hefted the bat before him.

If you’re in here, you fucker, I’ll beat your lousy fucking brains out.

The room was empty. Nothing looked disturbed.

He headed across the hall towards the study.

Again he pushed the door open. Again he snapped on the lights.

Again there was nothing.

Dining room or kitchen next?

If it was the kitchen, then the intruder would have had time either to escape the same way he’d entered, or to have armed himself with any number of implements.

Knife? Carving fork? Cleaver?

Rob held the bat with both hands as he approached the door, pausing a moment, trying to slow his breathing as much as anything.

BOOK: Warhol's Prophecy
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