Hindsight (9781921997211) (8 page)

CHAPTER

8

When the alarm went off it still felt like the middle of the night. I woke up tired and out of sorts. My eyes felt like someone had thrown a handful of sand in them and my arms and legs were leaden.

I'd spent most of the night tossing and turning and trying unsuccessfully to shut my brain down for long enough to fall asleep. Even Shadow gave up on me halfway through the night and went off on a night-time prowl instead of hogging the bed like he normally did.

All night the same images played through my mind like a movie reel stuck on a loop. I was walking down an alleyway holding a handbag, and wearing high heels that made it difficult to walk on the uneven surface. I wasn't feeling particularly nervous or anxious, just in a hurry. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. I was mainly focusing on watching where I stepped, careful to avoid turning my ankle. I walked past a doorway and someone grabbed me from behind and forced their hand over my mouth and nose. I struggled but then there was a stinging in my neck and I started to feel weak. I could smell the man behind me. I could feel him. I tried to fight but then he put his lips next to my ear and whispered those words: ‘You were so much easier than the last one.'

His voice was full of eager anticipation. Then he gave a soft laugh. Panic and fear started to overwhelm me; I felt a sudden crushing pain in my chest and then nothing.

It was frightening and frustrating. Every time it replayed I hoped to catch a glimpse of him; to see or hear something that might identify him. Every time there was nothing. I couldn't pull facts out of nothing. My talent wasn't like my mother's, I could only see and feel what Janet Hodgson had seen and felt — and she hadn't seen anything.

There was also the problem of Detective Ed Dyson. He was insufferable. First he'd looked at me as if I was a complete crank, inspecting me like some kind of weird zoological specimen. Then he topped it off by shrugging me off when I didn't instantly give him a description of the killer.

His partner was even worse. She obviously thought I was either a fraud or a fruitcake and I don't know which annoyed me more. What did I care what she thought? I did care what Ed Dyson thought, though, and that was really pissing me off. The fact that I found him attractive and wanted to make a good impression infuriated me.

Shoving the quilt back, I dragged myself out of bed. I walked over to the window and pushed back the blue velvet drapes. The sun wasn't up yet and the garden was still bathed in grey half-light. I thought I spotted Shadow cutting across the field, heading home for his breakfast. Crossing the room I unhitched my bathrobe from its hook behind the door and made for the bathroom.

I was still thinking about Ed Dyson as I turned the hot tap as high as it would go and started the usual manoeuvring with the cold tap to get the water just right. The old pipes coughed and spluttered.

Stepping into the shower I closed my eyes and conjured up an image of Dyson as the water cascaded over my back and neck. Tall, about six foot two, sandy hair, grey eyes with lines around them. Smile lines? No, more like hard knocks. He was no Adonis, he looked too careworn, too rough around the edges, but there was something that made my heart beat faster and made me feel awkward and schoolgirlish around him; embarrassing, but true. I wondered what he looked like without the rumpled suit, then quickly forced my mind away from that image. I couldn't fantasise about someone I was going to face in less than an hour.

I wondered what had etched the frown into his face. Probably working homicides was enough to do that to anyone after a while. I also wondered about his family. He wore a wedding ring but he didn't look well cared for: his shirt looked like he'd been sleeping in it for days. Maybe they didn't love each other any more and his marriage was falling apart. But why would he still wear the ring? Maybe he was still madly in love with her. That thought caused a twinge in my midsection. The thought of him in love with another woman wasn't very appealing.
Don't be ridiculous.
I gave myself a mental shake. I don't even like him.

I rinsed my hair and reached for my favourite conditioner; guaranteed to tame even the most unruly frizz and smelling like mangoes, it was one of the few ways I bothered to pamper myself. Massaging my scalp, I cast my mind back to the conversation from the day before.

I'd told them what the killer had said, those words that he whispered in Janet's ear. For what felt like much longer than the few seconds it must have been they all just stood there, looking at me. What I said was clearly not what they wanted to hear. Ed's partner, Steiner or something like that, was the first to have a crack at me. Her pale blue eyes bored holes in my head. ‘Is that it? No details about what he looked like? No amazing revelations? Surely you must have seen something?'

What she meant was, if I could really see what Janet had seen I would have been able to give them much more.

‘I could see what she saw for the last minute or so before she died but all I saw was the alleyway at night, no other people, then I was grabbed from behind. He put his hand over my mouth and nose, I felt a stinging in my neck and I started to feel weak. He whispered in my ear and I felt terrible pain in my chest and then nothing.' I gave the summary intending to sound matter of fact and not apologetic but only half succeeding. I was feeling wobbly and it took all my willpower to sound calm.

Detective Steiner gave a disgusted snort, turned and walked away, dismissing me without further comment.

Detective Dyson regarded me curiously, clearly at a loss. In the end he said nothing, choosing instead to walk off after his partner, leaving me standing there with Natalia, Chief Inspector Sorenson, who was clearly not impressed with her two detectives.

‘I'm sorry, Cass. I apologise for the way they behaved. What you've told us wasn't what we wanted to hear. If what you heard is really what the attacker said, that suggests he's done this before.'

‘Yes.'

‘And that means that this case isn't a one-off.'

Natalia looked at her detectives, who were standing near the car, deep in conversation. ‘Let's go over and join them. They're not that bad.'

I attempted a smile. Talking to those two was the last thing I felt like doing right then. I was tired and shaky after reliving Janet Hodgson's death. It had been a long time since I'd experienced a vision and I'd forgotten how exhausting it was.

We walked up to the two detectives.

‘I am sure I don't need to tell you that if what Cass heard is correct, it means he's done this before. Cass, would you know the voice again if you heard it?'

‘I'm not sure about the voice but I will never forget that laugh.'

Detective Steiner snorted again, ‘Great, we just need to ask every likely suspect to have a good laugh.'

Natalia rounded on her. ‘Detective Steiner, Miss Lehman is only trying to help and I, for one, am grateful for the assistance.' She glared at the younger officer. After a couple of beats she turned to Ed. ‘Let's head back to Fairfield.'

The detectives were clearly unimpressed and as we passed the turn off, I wondered why Natalia wasn't dropping me at home. I wanted to ask her but she seemed to be lost in thought. Eventually she broke the silence.

‘I think we should start looking at any other unsolved cases in the region where young women have been murdered. Would you be willing to help us, Cass?'

This was too much for Detective Dyson, who'd managed to bite his tongue until then.

‘But, Chief, you're making a big leap. We don't even know that this guy is a serial killer, do we? So far it looks like he killed her unintentionally.'

He clearly couldn't see the point in prolonging my involvement. Part of me hoped he was right. To be honest, Natalia's question threw me. When I was busy making plans to help the police the day before I hadn't really thought of it as being any more than a one-time offer.

If I was honest, the Kerry Sampson case from back when I was nineteen was still nagging at my conscience. I felt guilty for not doing more. I'd thought about telling Natalia about it more times than I could count but something had always held me back and I'd refused to let Mum bring it up with her either.

With a blinding flash of clarity I realised that it wasn't that the police weren't ready for me back then; I wasn't ready for
them
.

Now that I'd finally decided to try and help I'd subconsciously assumed that helping once would wipe the cosmic slate clean. Clearly the universe had different ideas. Natalia glanced at Ed in the rear-view mirror, ‘Like you, I have a bad feeling about this one. I don't want this to be part of the official investigation but it can't hurt to have Cass quietly look at any unsolveds to see if she can pick up on this guy.'

‘Great, our very own episode of
Medium
meets
Cold Case
,' Phil muttered.

Natalia's jaw clenched. She glanced at me. ‘Cass? What do you think?'

I looked out of the window at the passing coastline. ‘I'm here because I believe I can help you,' I replied.

‘Good, then we'll continue this tomorrow. Do you drive?'

‘I can but I prefer not to, it's too risky, you know, with road fatalities. If I experienced a vision while I was driving …'

‘Yes, I see. Detective Dyson will pick you up in the morning then, won't you, detective?'

He looked at Natalia in disbelief but his response was polite. ‘Yes ma'am.'

Ed lived within walking distance of the station but she insisted on taking him home, telling him she wanted him fresh for the next day.

When she pulled up outside of his house I was surprised. I'd expected him to live in an apartment, or something that required little maintenance. Instead it was an older-style bungalow with a well-manicured lawn and a small garden bed across the front. Ed opened the door and climbed out. Before he shut the door he stuck his head back in.

‘Miss Lehman? Eight o'clock sharp, at your place.'

His tone was faintly mocking. He slammed the door and sauntered across the road and up his pathway. We drove Phil back to her car at the station. Natalia grabbed a gym bag from her office, checked her messages and then we headed back to Jewel Bay.

Her motives for keeping me with her soon became clear. She grilled me all the way home, asking me repeatedly whether I was sure I was up for it. The more she pushed the more determined I became to help. Eventually I must have convinced her because she let it drop.

Mum and Gran pressed Natalia to stay for dinner and I was glad she did. The news that I was planning to continue my work with the police was about as well received as a fart in a lift. Mum was the hardest to convince. She knew what an emotional drain my visions were and she couldn't understand why I would want to subject myself to them by choice. The more she tried to talk me out of it the more I wanted to do it. I was ever the teenager in arguments with Mum. Natalia helped by being persistent.

‘Anita, you know I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't think it was worthwhile. If Cass's talent is as powerful as yours then she's wasted sitting here at home when she could be helping others. Imagine where I would be if you'd decided not to use your gift?'

Natalia wasn't a believer until she met my mother five years ago in the supermarket. Mum tripped over her own feet and Natalia reached out to help her up. The connection was enough for Mum to get an instant and blinding glimpse of a very short future. She told Natalia to wear a bulletproof vest for the next two weeks and to wear it not just at work but whenever she was away from home.

Natalia was sceptical but too afraid not to pay heed to such an adamant stranger — besides what harm could it do? Four days later she was shot in the chest by a ten-year-old at a petrol station. She'd walked in while he was trying to extract some money from the woman behind the counter. Natalia tried to reason with him but he panicked and turned what she'd thought was a fake gun on her.

She came away from it with a couple of cracked ribs and some hellish bruising but nothing more. If she hadn't been wearing the vest … She tracked down Mum and gave her the biggest bunch of flowers and box of chocolates she could find. They'd been firm, if unlikely, friends ever since.

Mum reached out and patted my hand. ‘Yes, but I don't get killed every time I use my gift.'

‘But you do feel pain when you see something terrible, and don't say you don't!' I said, thinking of all the times I'd found her staring out at the bay, looking tired and pale. ‘Besides, you thought it was a good idea when I told you about it yesterday.'

‘I thought you would help on the one case and then that would be that. I didn't think it would be an ongoing thing.' Mum sighed.

‘I don't know, Cass, are you sure this is what you really want?' Gran asked quietly. ‘It's a big risk.'

I looked at her in surprise. For some reason I'd expected her to be enthusiastic. She'd been quiet all through dinner, which was totally unlike her. When I'd broached the subject I'd fully expected Mum to find all sorts of reasons why I shouldn't do it but Gran was usually more open-minded.

‘To be honest, Gran, I'm really not sure. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a very deep pit and I'm not sure whether I want to jump or not.'

‘Then why do it?' asked Mum.

‘Because she can't spend the rest of her life living like a hermit with the two of us,' Gran said, before I could answer. ‘Whether we like it or not, Anita, we have to let Cass find her own way. Natalia is right, she should be putting her gift to better use. What bothers me is how people are going to react. Up until now we've kept a tight lid on it. People are open to the idea of psychic readings and healing but Cass's gift is in a class of its own.'

Gran got up to make tea and we sat there lost in our own thoughts until she brought the cups and pot to the table. She poured and then passed around a plateful of her homemade burnt butter biscuits, one of my favourites.