A Gift for Dying Page 17

  She broke off, screaming long and loud, before stopping abruptly. Her breathing was feverish, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

  Adam’s instinct was to break off the session, but suddenly Kassie spoke again:

  ‘He’s right on top of me, I can smell him. And –’

  She suddenly went quiet again and the colour drained from her cheeks.

  ‘What is it, Kassie?’

  ‘He’s going to cut my throat.’

  She half gasped, half groaned. Despite himself, Adam actually shivered, as if he could feel Rochelle’s throat being cut.

  ‘Is it just him there?’

  ‘Yes … no … I can hear laughter … It sounds like female laughter …’

  ‘Can you see this woman? Is she there?’

  ‘No … I can’t see … anyone any more,’ she breathed, still seeming to struggle for breath. ‘I’m staring up at the ceiling. I can see the moon. A big, pink moon …’

  Kassie started to choke now, greedily gasping for oxygen, while clawing at the air, so Adam intervened, bringing her swiftly out of her hypnosis. She looked extremely shaken and Adam had an inkling of how she felt – he had never had a distancing session where the patient had been able to feel trauma so keenly.

  ‘Am I as pale as you?’

  Kassie’s question punctured his introspection – Adam was surprised to see the trace of a rueful smile in Kassie’s expression.

  ‘Worse,’ Adam replied, as lightly as he could.

  ‘So, what now?’

  ‘Now … if you’re up to it … tell me everything you saw.’

  He sat opposite her, pen poised to write down her account. He had done this many times before, but never had his hand shaken so.

  ‘I was in a hut or an outbuilding.’

  ‘Was this the same place as last time?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you said Jacob was in a basement.’

  ‘I was wrong, it’s definitely above ground. When I looked up … I could see through the broken rafters. I could see the moon, a big pink moon …’

  Adam noted down ‘pink moon’. These celestial rarities happened in spring, so Kassie’s timing was right. But whether this was by accident or design, he couldn’t say.

  ‘Could you see who was with you? This man?’

  ‘Not really, it was dark. But I could smell cigarettes on his breath. I could hear his voice. He was close by, taunting her, enjoying himself.’

  ‘Did he have an accent?’

  ‘He’s from the Midwest, I think, but it’s hard to say.’

  ‘And the woman?’

  Kassie shook her head.

  ‘I just heard her laughter. It was high-pitched and cruel … so cruel … like she couldn’t stop.’

  Kassie shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself.

  ‘And she was in there with you?’

  ‘Yes … no … I don’t know. It sounded more distant, but it was very clear.’

  ‘And did you recognize her? Her voice, I mean?’

  ‘No,’ Kassie replied firmly, as if irritated by the suggestion.

  ‘Were you clothed?’

  ‘No … definitely not. I was so cold …’

  ‘And did you see the blade?’

  ‘No, I just felt it on my skin. It was long and thin – I could feel it digging into my throat, cutting me …’

  Now Kassie started to weep, low scared sobs. Adam called time on the session, taking time to comfort her, before settling her down to watch TV, so he could write up his notes. Though she appeared to contradict some of her earlier testimony, Kassie’s thoughts today had been clear, concise and detailed. But the question remained – was any of it even remotely real?

  65

  ‘I’ve told you I’ve no idea where she is.’

  Natalia’s tone was agonized, fervent. She sat at the kitchen table, casting horrified glances at the police officers turning her house upside down. What were they searching for? What did they expect to find?

  ‘The last time I saw her was yesterday afternoon in church. We were at St Stanislaus Kostka –’

  ‘When was this?’ Detective Grey interrupted.

  ‘The service began at nine p.m. She left about twenty minutes later. Took a phone call and ran off.’

  The police officer noted this down. Natalia watched her closely. Was she getting Kassie into more trouble by mentioning this?

  ‘She didn’t come home last night?’

  ‘No, I waited up for her, but …’

  ‘Does she often stay out all night?’

  ‘No, never. Well, hardly ever.’

  ‘Your daughter is missing then?’

  Natalia shrugged an affirmative. She didn’t like to admit it, but it was true.

  ‘And yet you’ve not reported it?’

  Natalia hesitated, embarrassed, before responding quietly:

  ‘I thought we were in enough trouble already.’

  ‘At least we can agree on that,’ the police officer responded curtly. ‘A woman was murdered last night – brutally murdered. Your daughter was seen following her.’

  Detective Grey spoke calmly and carefully, terrifying Natalia even more. What had Kassie got herself involved in now?

  ‘It’s very important we find Kassie,’ Grey continued briskly. ‘For her own safety, as much as anything else. So, if you know anything – anyone she might be staying with, anywhere she might have gone – now would be a very good time to tell us.’

  As she spoke, she fixed Natalia with a penetrating stare. Natalia’s whole world seemed to be collapsing in on itself, but she knew she had to do something to protect herself, to protect Kassie.

  ‘I wish I could help,’ Natalia stuttered, desperate to appear helpful. ‘But there’s no one – it’s just me and her. Honestly, I have no idea where she goes any more, but …’

  A flicker of interest in Grey’s expression now.

  ‘… I have an inkling of who might have called her last night. Where she might have gone …’

  Grey was staring directly at her. For the first time in this distressing interview, Natalia felt she had the upper hand.

  ‘In fact,’ she concluded, enjoying this brief moment of respite, ‘it’s someone you know … Someone you introduced to her.’

  Natalia was primed to deliver the punchline, but the detective’s face told her she didn’t need to. Gabrielle Grey knew exactly who she was talking about.

  66

  Kassie slunk back into the shadows, as Grey emerged from the squat bungalow. From her vantage point across the street, Kassie could see all that was going on, but she wondered now if her meagre cover would save her from detection. The trash cans weren’t particularly tall or wide and the CPD detective was looking purposeful and energized.

  On leaving Adam’s office, Kassie had turned on her phone, to find a series of messages from Grey, urging her to get in touch. Wary, Kassie had turned off her phone and hurried home. But as soon as she’d entered the street, Kassie had spotted them. Her neighbourhood was so listless, so dull, that the three CPD cars and the battered Pontiac stood out like sore thumbs. Natalia and Kassie never had visitors – to have so many people descend on them at once was almost comical. But nobody was laughing – not Grey, not Kassie and certainly not her mother. Kassie had caught glimpses of Natalia as she paced back and forth in the kitchen. Even from this distance, Kassie could see she looked very upset.

  Grey was marching to her car now, her cell phone clamped to her ear. The other officers remained inside, continuing their humiliating search of the small suburban house, but Gabrielle Grey was on the move. What had she discovered? What had her mom told her? Her mother might naturally want to protect Kassie, but she was not a good, nor a practised, liar. She would presumably have told Grey that she didn’t come home last night, that she had appeared restless and agitated during her enforced visit to St Stanislaus, but what else had she said to prompt such a sudden, purposeful departure? Suddenly Kassie was filled with foreboding.
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br />   Grey was pulling away from the kerb now, darting looks left and right to check for oncoming traffic. Kassie took a step further back, fearful of detection even now. On leaving Adam’s office, she’d decided to return home, to seek refuge from the world for a few hours, but there was no sanctuary here, not while the CPD were turning her family home upside down.

  For the first time in her short life, Kassie felt hunted.

  67

  Madelaine Baines finished tweeting, then immediately opened WhatsApp. Since her earlier discussion at the Phone Shack, she had been full of energy, remorselessly hitting social media to make her views known. News of a second murder in this part of town had already filtered through now, even to those who didn’t regularly follow the radio or TV bulletins. But reaction and gossip were not enough. Something had to be done.

  Madelaine had always been someone who liked to give back. Since giving up work to look after the kids, she had had time on her hands. More time than she was comfortable with, if she was honest. So she was happy to help out at charity drives, cake sales and other community events. She knew she had been lucky in life – loving parents, devoted husband, lovely kids – and that pushed her to help others less fortunate than herself. Whenever there was a local disaster or a sick kid whose health insurance didn’t cover a vital operation, she would be first in line to do her bit. It made her feel useful, made her feel like she still had value. And she felt that familiar drive now, that energy and excitement building inside her. Her husband often said she took on too much – that she couldn’t shoulder everyone’s troubles – but to her, helping was as natural as breathing. Which is why she had to get involved now.

  Obviously local people would want to pay their respects to those who’d lost their lives – a public servant and a young counsellor needlessly slain. She had thought of a church service, but then backed away from that, as she had no idea what religious beliefs the victims held. Instead she had settled for a candlelit vigil in Granary Square. That would be a fitting venue and a perfect rallying point. Because, as well as remembering the victims, it was vital they ensured that it didn’t happen again, that the local community was protected.

  In reality, this was her principal driver. She had lived in this neighbourhood for twenty years – her husband worked here, her kids went to high school here. The idea that anything would happen to them … Rochelle Stevens was only eight years older than her eldest and to think what that poor girl went through … No, it was vital that local people came together to protect each other, to root out this evil. No one, not even the most skilled or determined criminal, was a match for the eyes and ears of a whole community.

  Having tapped out a rallying cry on her local WhatsApp groups, she moved on to Facebook. Already responses were flooding in – appalled, but determined and resolved – and Madelaine felt her optimism rising. They could do this, they could fight back. One of the first people to respond had been Amy, her younger daughter, who shared many of Madelaine’s characteristics and was clearly already recruiting fellow students for the vigil. In spite of herself, Madelaine felt a flush of pride – for Amy, Joanne, her husband, Paul. On this, she knew they would be four square behind her when the time came. That was the thing about tragedies like these. However awful they were, they always reminded you how fortunate you were to be part of a happy, loving family.

  68

  ‘Let me get this straight … You went around to Rochelle Stevens’ house last night and you broke in?’

  Gabrielle Grey’s tone was a mixture of bewilderment and shock.

  ‘Yes,’ Adam conceded awkwardly.

  Gabrielle continued to stare at him, trying to process this unexpected development. It was profoundly odd for Adam to see her standing in his office – their interaction had always been on her turf – but she had turned up unannounced twenty minutes ago. She had come hoping to track down Kassie, but had already got far more than she bargained for.

  ‘What time was this?’

  ‘Just after ten p.m.’

  ‘Do you know Rochelle?’

  ‘Professionally. We’ve met a few times and I often refer teenagers to her for addiction therapy.’

  ‘Is Kassie Wojcek one of her patients?’

  ‘Yes, I put them in contact a week ago. I told you that I felt it was important Kassie received treatment.’

  Gabrielle was still looking directly at him, as if trying to read him. Though Adam had nothing to hide, he nevertheless felt tense.

  ‘Why did you go there last night?’

  ‘Kassie was determined to track her down, so I accompanied her. She was very worried about Rochelle and wanted to make sure she was ok.’

  ‘So you broke in to ask her?’ Gabrielle persisted, incredulous.

  ‘That was Kassie, not me. I would have waited until the morning, but –’

  ‘Is this something you regularly do with your clients? Breaking and entering –’

  ‘Rochelle wasn’t answering the door,’ Adam interrupted, irritated. ‘But she’d clearly made it home –’

  ‘How could you know that?’

  ‘We could see her bag and phone in the hallway.’

  Adam knew it sounded bad – the pair of them peering through Rochelle’s windows before breaking in – but carried on, determined to guts this out.

  ‘Look, Kassie was convinced that something was wrong an—’

  ‘On what basis?’

  This was the question he’d been dreading. Choosing his words carefully, Adam continued:

  ‘Kassie had the strong sense that Rochelle was about to be attacked … by the same person or persons who murdered Jacob Jones, so –’

  ‘She wanted to warn her?’

  ‘Yes,’ Adam replied, ignoring her sarcasm. ‘That’s why she followed her from the NA meeting.’

  ‘And did you ask her why she was so convinced that Rochelle was in danger?’

  The question hung in the air for a moment, then:

  ‘She had … a kind of vision. During the therapy session.’

  ‘Another one? Does she have these visions daily or just when someone’s about to be cut into small pieces?’

  ‘Gabrielle, I’m trying to answer your questions honestly,’ Adam growled. ‘I’d appreciate it if you did me the courtesy of taking me seriously.’

  ‘And I’d appreciate it if you’d answer my question.’

  ‘Yes,’ Adam continued, testily. ‘She claims to have them every day. But we’ve only discussed the two concerning Jacob and Rochelle.’

  Gabrielle digested this.

  ‘So, what happened when you were in the house?’

  ‘Nothing. Nothing at all,’ Adam insisted, aware he was sounding increasingly defensive. ‘We looked for Rochelle. She wasn’t there. We left.’

  ‘What time was this?’

  ‘Ten fifteen p.m. … ten twenty … we didn’t stay long.’

  ‘And you left together?’

  ‘No …’ Adam conceded. ‘I drove home. Kassie … I think Kassie spent the night on the “L”.’

  ‘The whole night?’

  ‘That’s what she told me.’

  ‘And where were you? After, say, ten thirty p.m.?’

  ‘I was at home, with my wife.’

  ‘All night?’

  ‘All night,’ Adam replied, riled.

  ‘Is there anyone else that can verify that?’

  ‘Not really. Unless a neighbour saw me coming back.’

  Gabrielle said nothing, removing a small pad from her jacket pocket and making a few notes.

  ‘I’m not seriously a suspect, am I?’ Adam demanded.

  ‘I’m keeping an open mind.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake.’

  ‘You broke into Rochelle Stevens’ house last night. This morning we found her body.’

  ‘We were trying to help her.’

  But he knew it sounded weak.

  ‘Where’s Kassie now?’ Gabrielle asked, ignoring his protest.

  ‘I don’t know. If sh
e’s not at home, she might be at school.’

  ‘She’s not. The Principal told me she hasn’t been in for several days.’

  ‘Then your guess is as good as mine.’

  Adam met her eye this time, determined not to look cowed. But Gabrielle seemed unaffected by his defiance, staring right back at him.

  ‘Tell me something,’ she said eventually. ‘Why were you at Rochelle’s last night?’

  ‘I’ve already explained that.’

  ‘You told me Kassie was worried about her. Why were you there?’

  ‘I wanted to prove to her that Rochelle was ok, that there was no reason to be concerned.’

  ‘So you revealed the address of a fellow professional to a client …’

  ‘It wasn’t like that –’

  ‘And not content with that, you accompanied your client to her house, where you promptly broke in and –’

  ‘Look, I shouldn’t have done it, I know that. But Kassie was convinced that Rochelle was in danger and as it turns out she was right.’

  The words escaped before he could stop them. Immediately Adam wished he could take them back, but it was too late.

  ‘Oh. My. God.’

  Gabrielle’s hand rose to her mouth, genuine surprise replacing suspicion.

  ‘You believe her, don’t you? You actually believe this girl is some kind … some kind of psychic?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Adam spat back.

  ‘What then?’

  ‘I’m trying to help her.’

  ‘By encouraging her in her delusions?’

  ‘By listening to her. That’s the difference between you and me, Gabrielle. You instantly disbelieve everything you’re told. I don’t have that luxury. I have to work with what people tell me.’

  ‘You mean you have to swallow their lies.’

  ‘I have to listen to them, interpret what they say, then try to help them.’

  ‘If you could only hear yourself –’

  ‘Why would Kassie lie about this?’ Adam interrupted, his volume rising with his temper. ‘If she’s involved, why would she draw attention to herself by talking to me in the first place?’