LAST RITES. Neil White
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‘Do as you are told and be rewarded,’ he whispered. And then, as Sarah climbed under the blanket, grateful for the warmth, he slipped out of the room.
The noise of the heartbeat returned, but it seemed more bearable now.
I had been sitting in my car for nearly an hour before I saw Katie walking up the hill to her house. It was steep, and so she didn't see me until she reached her front door, her head down as she climbed.
She had looked deep in thought, but brightened when I stepped out of the car.
‘Mr Garrett,’ she said coyly. ‘Do you have some more questions?’
‘You're too perceptive,’ I replied, playing along. ‘Is that okay?’
‘Depends on the questions,’ she said, and she smiled.
I glanced towards the door. ‘Shouldn't we go inside?’
She considered that for a moment, and then reached for her keys. ‘Follow me,’ she said.
As I went in, I noticed different things to our first meeting. The house seemed quieter, like it had become used to silence. The wind chimes in the hall tinkled like broken glass as we entered, but they sounded too loud. I noticed the smell this time. It was bleach, cleaning fluids, a touch of fresh paint. I glanced into the living room, tried to get an impression of Sarah, but Katie went straight into the back room again, dumped her bag onto the sofa and sat down with a sigh. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘You mentioned letters,’ I said bluntly.
She pulled off her shoes. ‘Did I?’
‘You know you did. Yesterday. It was the last thing you mentioned before you walked away.’
‘I can't say anything,’ she said eventually. ‘I told you that too.’
‘So why did you mention them?’
Katie smiled at me. ‘You look sweet when you get all serious.’
‘I might get really sweet soon then,’ I replied. ‘Why can't you say anything?’
‘DCI Carson,’ she said, the words coming out with a grimace. I guessed that she hadn't been impressed. Laura had told me all about him the night before.
‘I'm not asking for a copy of the letters, but just tell me what was in them,’ I said.
Katie played with her hair, just teasing it around her ear. ‘I can't. I'll get into trouble. And I'll get you into trouble.’
‘Don't worry about me,’ I said. ‘Knowing a secret isn't a crime. And I would protect my source. All journalists would.’
I let the silence hang there, hoping Katie would say something, but she stayed quiet.
The silence became too long, so I said, ‘Okay, I get the message. Pass on my congratulations to DCI Carson. He's got an obedient student.’
‘Come and see me later,’ said Katie quickly.
‘Why?’
‘About the letters.’
‘Why not now?’
‘Because if you want something from me, it will be on my terms. And I don't want to talk yet.’
‘So it has to be later?’
Katie nodded. ‘Come here for six. We'll talk then.’
I looked at her, hoping that she might change her mind, wondered how I would explain it to Laura, but Katie just smiled at me.
‘Later it is, then,’ I said, and started to walk towards the door.
‘Jack!’ she shouted out.
I turned around.
‘I'll look forward to it,’ she said, and then she giggled.
I turned and left the house, and as the door closed I looked down at my hands. They were shaking.
But it wasn't just the story, I knew that. Katie intrigued me. Maybe it was just the looks, but I knew that it was something else too: that she thought she was in charge, that she had something I wanted.
I knew I would have to be careful.
Rod Lucas took a quick look at Pendle Hill as he walked towards Abigail's door. The skies looked darker than the day before, the bracken top covered in gloom, and it made him raise the collar on his waxed jacket to shield his ears. His wife pestered him to wear a hat and gloves, but Rod wanted to feel the countryside, not just see it through his windscreen. It was what made his patch special.
He knocked on the door and then stepped back. Abigail was out of hospital, but he knew he would have to wait. She lived on her own, not even a cat for company any more, and Rod recalled her injuries. She wouldn't be moving quickly.
He put his hands into his pockets and stayed still. A couple of minutes went past and so he gave another rap on the door, just so that Abigail would definitely know someone was there. Eventually, he heard the rattle of a key, and when the door opened he was surprised at what he saw.
‘You look well, Miss Hobbs,’ he said, and he meant it. There was some bruising around her chin, and one of her eyes was covered by a patch, the other one red and sore, but some of the swelling had gone down and she was walking proudly upright, even with the bandages on her leg.
‘I heal well,’ she said, suspiciously at first, but then she recognised Rod. ‘I'm sorry, but you were dressed differently yesterday.’
He glanced down and remembered his gardening clothes from the day before. It was shirt and tie today, but there was still dirt ingrained into his fingers.
He nodded and smiled. ‘I wonder if we could have a talk,’ he said, just a hint of reproach in his voice.
‘There's nothing much else to say,’ said Abigail. ‘Young vandals or trouble-causers. I can't add anything to that.’
‘What about Isla Marsden? Can she help?’
Rod watched her carefully, looked for a reaction, but she was more prepared for the question than Isla had been. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but the sweet smile never wavered.
‘Thank you for calling round, Inspector,’ she said. ‘If I hear of anything, I'll get in touch.’
Abigail started to close