No Longer Safe(105)

Oh, God – what has she done?

With tiny wriggles, I managed to kneel so my face was next to his. I knew then. From the smell of his skin. That distinctive peppery fragrance, starting to go stale.

Stuart? No! Stuart!

I pressed my face against his, but drew back. His cheek felt like a briefcase that had been left out all night. I wanted to shake him, wake him up, bring him back. I cried out, but the moan stayed solid in my mouth. I nuzzled into him and realised my nose and cheek were sticky. Blood. What did she do to you?

There was just enough light for me to see that half his head was glistening and torn. I fought for air as my tongue felt like it was clogging up my throat. I couldn’t see properly after that; tears had claimed my eyes and I had no way of wiping them away.

Not my lovely Stuart. I sank beside him and wept; my body shaking in huge sobs as I thought of how wonderful he was. He seemed to appreciate me exactly as I was and I had such hopes that could have had some kind of future together. Now it was all over. Karen had killed him. She’d battered him to death. He must have confronted her about Charlie – or the boy. Why had he not waited until we were together? Why had he faced her on his own? After all, he had warned me about how dangerous she was.

I listened. I could hear Karen moving around upstairs. Then I heard her footsteps as she came down again, humping luggage with her. A terrifying thought occurred to me. Maybe she was coming back to finish me off.

I listened again, trying to work out where she was and what she was doing. Her footsteps receded and I decided she must be in the kitchen. There was the clunk of a cupboard closing, the whoosh of a tap running and then a sound I wasn’t expecting. The front door knocker.

‘Hello,’ came a woman’s voice. ‘Ms Morley?’

‘Yes.’ I could hear every word.

‘I’m DS McKenzie and this is Sergeant Harris, you’ll remember from before. May we come in?’

‘Yeah – no problem.’

My heart flung itself up to the base of my throat. The police! They were here. Stuart must have managed to call them after all.

‘It’s just a courtesy call,’ said McKenzie. ‘We’re sending in a team shortly to look over the byre again.’

‘Oh…’ Karen sounded surprised. ‘Is it the boy?’

‘We’re not in a position to release any details, I’m afraid,’ said McKenzie. ‘It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just to let you know we’ll be here.’

‘Yes – yes, of course.’

I could hear shuffling footsteps but they were all still in the hall; Karen hadn’t invited them any further inside.

‘Have you seen anyone hanging around in the area since we last spoke to you? Anything suspicious? Cars around at unusual hours?’

There was a stunted silence. ‘Er, no – I don’t think so.’

‘We need to speak to the other holiday makers who’re staying with you. Are they here?’

Yes – I’m down here! I grabbed Stuart’s arm instinctively. It felt brittle and stiff, but I didn’t want to let go.

‘No – I’m afraid not. I’m on my own with the baby. Jodie Farringday and Mark Leverton left in separate taxis this morning. They went to Fort William to catch trains south. I don’t know where Alice is – her gear is still upstairs.’ No – don’t listen to her. I’m in the cellar. I’m right under your feet!

‘Right, I see. Are you leaving yourself, today?’ They must have seen her bags in the hall.

‘Probably,’ she said. I could hear the smile in her voice. ‘It’s a lot colder than I expected up here and I don’t want the child I’m baby-sitting to catch a chill. I thought the cottage would have central heating, but it doesn’t – and, you know, with a small infant – you can’t afford to take risks. I need to get her back to her mother.’

‘I understand,’ said the female voice. ‘We’ll leave you to it, then. If Alice returns before you leave, can you give us a call?’

‘Of course.’

‘And the Land Rover that’s out there? That belongs to Mr Wishart?’

‘Yes – he and Alice seem to have teamed up. They’re probably out walking somewhere.’

‘Okay, then,’ said the male officer. ‘We’ll be on our way. I’m afraid it’s snowing again, so be careful in the car. Have a safe trip.’

No – don’t go – help me! She’s killed two people – she’s stolen the boy. It’s Brody – she’s got him upstairs. Ask again to see the baby! Ask again!

The stomp of footsteps carried overhead towards the front door. I needed to make some noise. I should have done it sooner. Stupid! Stupid! I’d wasted precious time listening to what they were saying when I should have been getting them to hear me.