Today’s writing prompt and my response.
Day four of this week’s challenge. The story starts here.
‘How dare you look down your nose at me like that.’
Although Dirk wanted to ask about Hilary’s fixation with curtains, the unwelcoming sight in front of him took priority.
‘Has it always looked like this?’ he said.
Hilary turned her stare on him. ‘No. Last time I saw it, it was an ivy-covered stone hotel. Posh, the kind that serves organic local produce.’
‘What the site said.’ Dirk opened his door. ‘I’m going to find out if there’s any chance of food in there. Starving.’ He peered back at his passenger. ‘Stay here.’
Hilary appeared in no rush to disobey. She ran her hands through her hair, grimaced. ‘It must have reached this far. Will it stop before it’s taken over the whole country?’
‘Will what stop? What’s going on?’ Dirk slid back into his seat, waiting for an explanation which he feared would make no sense.
‘Nightmares.’ Hilary drew a ragged breath. ‘Dreams, real dreams. It turns our lives into a living hell, brings them alive.’
‘What does?’
‘I don’t know what it is, I only know what it can do.’
‘You dreamed about being homeless?’
She squinted at him. ‘Doesn’t everyone, at some stage?’
Yes, but Dirk had other dreams too, none of which he would want turned into reality. Understanding he would get no more from Hilary right now, he slipped out of the car and walked steadily along a narrow track in the grass to the boot’s door. He knocked, waited. Whispering inside, a raised voice insisting, ‘No, no, don’t open it.’
Dirk rapped again. ‘Anyone there? We need food, somewhere to sleep. Are you still a hotel?’
The door swung open. A tall woman, dressed in a long, dark gown and with hair falling about her shoulders in waves, glared at Dirk. An older man cowered behind her, shaking his head.
‘Of course we’re still a hotel,’ the woman said.
Dirk peered past the couple into a hallway lined with leaf-patterned wallpaper, side tables holding flowers, a dark red runner on an old tiled floor. Perfectly normal.
He turned to the car, waved to Hilary. ‘Come on, I think it’s okay,’ and waited for her to join him outside.
The woman studied Hilary’s approach, a frown deepening the creases on her forehead. ‘We don’t take homeless people here. We like our customers clean.’
For the first time since Dirk had found her, Hilary stood straight. She threw up her arms, raised her eyes to take in the outside of the giant boot.
‘You dreamed of being in a nursery rhyme? That was the worst you could do?’ She crossed her arms, stared the woman up and down. ‘How dare you look down your nose at me like that? Have you no idea what’s going on?’
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Murder and mayhem!
This week’s story so far:
When she arrived home the front door was wide open and several police were standing in the hallway.
“What’s going on?” inquired Sue Thompson anxiously as she brushed past a young constable.
“Sorry, miss, but you can’t come in here – it’s a crime scene,” he said.
“But it’s my home, and what do you mean it’s a crime scene?” Her voice was becoming shriller by the second.
“There’s a young woman in the lounge room and she has been murdered,” he replied, his voice deliberately devoid of emotion.
“Oh no!” Sue screamed and the hallway began to swim as she crashed to the floor unconscious.
When she awoke a few minutes later, an ambulance paramedic was fussing over her. “You all right, miss,” he asked. “You’ve had a bit of a nasty shock.”
“What happened? Where am I?”
“Your home, miss. Don’t you remember?”
The events of the last few minutes came flooding back. A young woman in the lounge room – murdered. Could only be her sister Elisa. After all, she was the only other person who lived here.
Sue struggled to her feet and, before anyone could stop her, rushed to the lounge room. Sure enough, there was the lifeless body of her older sister lying grotesquely on the floor and, from what she could observe, brutally strangled.
Sue collapsed once more, anguished sobs wracking her slim body. How could this happen? Who could have possibly done this? The house was very secure, deadlocks on every door and window, not at all easy to break in.
After about half an hour, Sue had recovered sufficiently well enough to talk to the police.
What time did Elisa normally come home? Did she have any enemies? Was there someone who might have held a grudge?
Elisa was a teacher, she told them, and normally home by 4.30pm every day from the nearby primary school where she taught fifth grade. She was very popular with both students and teachers alike and had no enemies, nor anyone with a grudge against her, Sue said – at a total loss as to why anyone would wish her harm.
“Might have been a break in,” the interviewing detective suggested. “Perhaps when you feel better you can check to see if anything is missing.”
………….
Sue found herself aimlessly wandering in the shadows of Manhattan Bridge. So many homeless people, she didn’t even know where to start searching.
After the police left, she carefully examined drawers and closets for any missing items – and the only possession she couldn’t find was an expensive diamond necklace, a family heirloom that Elisa had inherited from their mother.
It had always been kept safely locked in a steel safe at the back of her sister’s wardrobe, but, when Sue checked, the safe door was ajar and the necklace gone. A ragged old scarf was beside the safe, no doubt dropped by the thief before he left.
Sue could only surmise that somehow the man had broken into their home while they were both at work and Elisa had surprised him when she returned home after school. She could only imagine her sister’s horror at finding the thief in her bedroom and the terrible struggle that must have ensued as she tried to escape and call for help.
Sue closed her eyes as she continued her wanderings, trying desperately to shut out the memory of Elisa lying stone cold on the lounge room floor.
The ragged scarf she vaguely recognised. She had seen it on a homeless man near the Manhattan Bridge only a few days earlier while on her way to work.
Before she informed the police of her find and suspicions, she thought a quick search of the area might turn up the culprit – he might even still have the necklace – saving them the time and trouble.
“Hey, sweetie!” called out a ragged figure, his filthy fingers protruding from half gloved hands and stained, yellow teeth leering only inches from her face. “Care for a kiss!!”
Suen recoiled in horror, pushing him away and stumbling in blind panic towards the bright lights of a nearby street.
Not such a good idea after all. What on earth was she thinking? Better off leaving this to people better equipped to deal with it.
The figure followed for a moment before, thinking better of it, turning back to his small piece of turf.
Sue wailed in despair and, not caring what direction she was headed, rushed headlong into the night.
………….
The sound of a police siren intruded on her chaotic thoughts, bringing her back to reality. Of course – she had to go to the police station and report what she had discovered.
“Don’t know what I was thinking – that I could find this person by myself,” she muttered, disgusted that she had even bothered to try.
Sue entered her local cop shop and inquired after the detective who had interviewed her the previous evening at her home. Ed Bellamy was his name and he had been very understanding as she sat in the kitchen, still in total shock at her sister’s sudden and brutal death.
“It’s all right,” he had said. “I don’t expect you to start checking for stolen items straight away. In fact, the paramedic wants to give you a sedative so you can hopefully get some sleep. Unfortunately, we have to take Elisa to the morgue to do an autopsy before we can release her into your care so you can then make funeral arrangements.”
Now, as she sat and waited for Ed to appear, she was so grateful that he had not try to push too hard with questions to which she had no answer.
A young mother walked into the station, daughter in hand, went to the counter and then occupied the seat beside her.
She pulled out a story book to read to the girl, who must have been about five, to keep her occupied while they waited to be seen by one of the policemen.
Sue couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder. It was an old favourite – “There Was An Old Woman Who Lived In A Shoe. She Had So Many Children She Didn’t Know What To Do.” Sue knew it only too well and recalled how her mother had read it to her at bedtime when she was a little girl.
She smiled as she recalled those happy times – Elisa and herself curled up in bed together as they listened to their mother’s dulcet tones bring the story to life.
Ed Bellamy standing in front of her shocked her from her reverie. “Hullo Sue,” he said softly. “What can I do for you?”
Sue followed him into his office where she told him about the missing necklace and the ragged scarf she had found near the open safe.
She also admitted to wandering among the homeless under the Manhattan Bridge searching for its owner she remembered seeing a few days earlier.
“Not a great idea,” he said. “What if you had been attacked?”
Sue shuddered as the leering yellow stained toothed face flooded her memory. “I know,” she admitted, “very stupid of me.”
Ed Bellamy thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “Well, we can test the scarf,” he said. “Who knows, it might contain DNA we can trace. Meantime, we will also put out an alert on the necklace to all the local pawn shops – just in case they try to dispose of it.”
……………..
It was becoming very late and the detective offered to drive Sue home. “I don’t think it is safe for you to be walking,” he reasoned.
She was too tired to argue and gratefully accepted the lift. Lost in thought, she gazed out the passenger window as the car sped down the dark streets towards her house.
Suddenly, she saw a familiar figure warming himself by a small fire not far from where she had run into all those homeless people. It was the same man who had accosted her.
“Stop!” she cried out to Ed, who brought the car to a shuddering halt.
“What’s wrong?”
“There! See there! That’s the man who tried to attack me!”
Ed leapt out of the car and in several strides reached the homeless vagabond. “Hey you,” he said. “Come here, I want to talk to you!”
“Wha..what do you want with me? I ain’t done nuffin.”
“Nothing, eh? Isn’t this the woman you tried to attack earlier tonight?” Pointing to Sue who was climbing out of the car to join the detective.
“Dunno what you are talking about,” the homeless man replied.
“Oh yes, you do,” said Ed. “I’m taking you in for questioning.” He showed the vagabond his badge.
The man looked slyly at Sue who was peering at his face with obvious disgust.
“Don’t you look down your nose at me like that,” he said.
“Why not,” she replied. “You are filthy and you smell terrible. How do you expect me to look at you?”
The homeless man snorted and started cursing as Ed handcuffed his hands behind his back and bundled him into the back seat of the car.
“I’m going to take him back to the station for questioning but I want you to come with me so I can keep you safe,” he said to Sue.
Obediently, she hopped back into the front passenger seat and they made their way back from whence they had come.
Ed marched the homeless man into the police station and ordered one of the uniformed policemen to take a saliva DNA sample for testing. He had a hunch that this man might know something about Elisa’s murder and the necklace robbery.
Not something that they could determine tonight – but hopefully the results from the scarf and his saliva would be back in the morning.
The homeless vagabond was taken away to be locked up for the night in the neighbouring detention centre and Ed once more turned his attention to Sue.
“Now, I really do have to take you home,” he said with a smile.
Sue was really grateful for all his help. They arrived at her house and she began to fidget anxiously.
“Don’t you want to be here tonight on your own,” asked Ed. “I can take you to a motel if you like where you might be more comfortable.”
“No, it’s all right,” she replied. “But I don’t suppose you would mind sleeping in the spare room.”
The memory of her dead sister kept invading her thoughts and she just could not stop shaking.
“Don’t fret,” he said. “I don’t mind staying if it means you will get some rest.”