Nine Lives, Anita Waller [best interesting books to read .txt] 📗

for what she guessed would be the last set of visitors for the night. The previous two or three groups had been ten- to twelve-year-olds, the little ones from earlier probably tucked up in bed.

She straightened her hat and wig, opened the door with a smile and felt the punch to her jaw. She staggered backwards, and the intruder followed her in, hitting her again.

This time she went down, the hat and wig skittering across the floor. His foot connected with her ribs and she screamed.

‘Shut up, silly cow,’ Evan snarled. ‘Thought you could get away with changing the locks, did you? Payback time, darlin’. I’m here for what’s mine.’

This time his foot connected with her head and she knew nothing more.

Erica was reading through her notes, occasionally dipping her hand into the sweet bowl that still held quite a few of every variety known to man.

‘Good night, wasn’t it?’ she said, lifting her head as Frannie brought hot drinks in for them.

‘If you say so,’ Frannie answered, half laughing. ‘Thank God it’s only once a year.’

‘You’ll be telling me next you don’t like Christmas.’

‘Love Christmas, as you know. I simply think Halloween is a bit…’ she searched for the right word, ‘paganish.’

‘That a word?’

‘No idea, but you know what I mean. You and the devil in cahoots, what could be scarier. What are you doing, anyway?’

‘I’m looking through some reports – I missed a lot of input by being out and about today. I’ve got Beth’s list of people who’ve been released, and she’s redlined three out of the eight but the fourth one has a row of question marks against it. Harvey Orgreave. He was sentenced in January twenty-fifteen, released about two months ago. It’s the right time frame. I’ll give her a ring, I think, and ask her about the question marks.’

She picked up her phone, selected ‘Favourites’ and hit the call button. There was nothing other than a connecting ring. She waited patiently and then it disconnected. She waited a couple of minutes, then tried again, but still received no answer.

She searched for Beth’s landline number and called that, and once again there was silence. Erica felt uneasy, but returned to reading the notes.

There was still no response half an hour later and she immediately put in a call to the station.

‘Steve, DI Cheetham. We got any squad cars around DS Machin’s home address? She’s having some bother with her ex, and I can’t raise her. I’m a tad concerned.’

‘Lives in Crookes, doesn’t she? Hang on, ma’am, I’ll put a shout out.’

She could hear his voice in the background relaying Beth’s full address, and then he returned to her.

‘They’re one minute away, ma’am. Want to hang on?’

‘I do. Her ex is a bully. She’s recently changed all her locks to keep him out, so…’

‘So you’re worried. Hang on, you’ll know soon enough.’

She waited, her patience at an end. She needed to know Beth was okay. She hoped she was in the bath, or had already gone to bed, but somehow she knew that wasn’t the case. Detective sergeants always had their phone switched on.

There was the sudden clattering of the phone being picked up, and Steve spoke. ‘Ma’am? They’ve found her – the door was open and she was lying in the hall. They’ve sent for an ambulance. There’s a lot of blood…’

‘I’m going there now. ETA ten minutes. If you hear anything else, ring me.’ Erica felt her head spin as panic overwhelmed her. She should have followed her gut reaction after the first phone call had elicited no response.

She put down the phone and grabbed her coat. ‘Don’t wait up,’ she said to a startled Frannie. ‘It seems Beth is injured. Lot of blood they’ve said.’

Frannie gave a brief nod in acknowledgement, then hugged her. ‘Go. Let me know how she is. Calm down, you’ll be no good to her in this state.’

Erica drove, her foot hard to the floor. She reached Beth’s house to see an ambulance and three squad cars outside – when one of their own was injured, forces gathered.

She climbed out of her car and ran, waving her warrant card needlessly at the young constable who was preventing anyone getting through the crime scene tape who shouldn’t be there. He knew who she was. He lifted the tape as she approached.

‘Paramedics with her now, ma’am,’ he said, and she thanked him.

Beth was lying on the hall floor, unconscious.

Erica stood, feeling utterly helpless. She watched as the paramedics attached connectors to Beth, then shocked her with the defibrillator. To her police eye there seemed to be no response, and she wanted to scream at them, to tell them to bring her friend back, to make her breathe.

The ambulance travelled with blue lights flashing and a siren to warn all recalcitrant witches and wizards to get out of their way. Erica followed in its wake, never leaving the back doors more than about eight feet in front of her.

She spoke briefly to Frannie to fill her in on what had happened, and Frannie had been warmly supportive with the usual platitudes of she was sure Beth would be fine, strong woman, keep your chin up, but Erica had seen the faces of the paramedics as they had battled to bring her back to life.

‘Love you,’ Frannie had concluded. ‘Stay as long as you’re needed.’

‘I will,’ Erica said. ‘Love you too. We’re at the Northern General now, so I’ll see you later.’

She pulled into the car park nearest to the ambulance station and ran back up the hill to join Beth. A doctor had been waiting, it seemed, and she had to hover to hear what was to happen next. A nurse pressed a cup of tea into her hand, saying she looked as though she needed it, and Erica smiled her thanks before sipping gratefully at it.

It seemed an age before she saw the doctor; Beth was heading for surgery, and did Erica know her next of kin.

‘I’ve already contacted her parents,’