Backwards Into Hell

Part Three: Everybody Dies

Abigail's Diary

Sunday 31st October

'Did he tell you anything else about his business?' Sumra asked.

I shook my head. 'Sorry.'

We were sat at Sam's glassy kitchen table, going through more details as officers swarmed the property. It seemed an overreaction, surely, for a simple old man.

Regardless, Sumra continued.

'And you mentioned a wife?'

'Yes.'

Sapphire's murder, much to my frustration, had seemingly fallen on the back burner. Sam wasn't involved with the murders, and sure, maybe his loan business wasn't entirely above water, but it was hardly the most pressing matter.

'Do you know her name?'

I was shocked to realise I didn't. 'No. I haven't seen her in days, to be honest.'

Was it really this easy to keep secrets from me? No wonder David had gotten away with it for so long...

Sumra clicked through a few pages on her sleek laptop. 'There's no record of a marriage. In fact, there's no record of him at all.' Her voice drifted as she read. 'He gave no second name?'

For the millionth time, I shook my head.

'Was there any evidence someone else lived here? Did you see plates she'd eaten from, laundry?'

I'd seen nothing.

But she'd been there, hadn't she, on the plane? Who was she, that woman with her head buried in a book? And, perhaps more importantly, who was Sam?

Finally, once it was clear I knew about as much as dead goldfish, Sumra shut her laptop.

'Do you have anywhere else to stay?'

'Not really. The hotels are all booked up.'

'I'll see what I can do.' She stood, fixed her hijab and gave me a warm smile. 'Of course, I'll have to ask you to stay out of the house for a few hours.'

I agreed and followed as Sumra donned her long brown coat and guided me to the street. Goosebumps prickled my arms. I really should have brought better thermals.

Sumra paused before turning away.

'Sure you're alright?'

I nodded, squinting in the wind and knowing full-well I didn't look 'alright': my eyes were dark and Tim-Burton-like, and my hair was little more than a greasy mop on top of my head.

Sensing she could do no more, Sumra left me to my own devices. I turned, facing the salty sea air and began to walk. It was clear where I was going: The Cafe.

I chose to skip the bus—even though it passed me several times on the route—because I would avoid prying eyes and, to be frank, I needed the exercise. The weather was good, sunny but cold, and I let my mind drift as I went.

Who was he?

Sam had never seemed anything other than kind but as I'd learned with David, the nicer a person seemed, the more they could hide.

I tried not to think about Sapphire. Too painful. Caleb either. The danger he could be in was almost too much to bear, and still, I hadn't faced it. The less I let myself think about him and what might have happened, the less I would crack.

So instead, I thought of home. The trees would be turning yellow as the cold ushered in, and the mothers from the playgroup would be there today—Sunday mornings—with tea, biscuits, and squash as the little terrors paraded around the local hall. I wondered if they'd be talking about me, wondering what I was up to. If they knew about my arrest.

I wasn't going back. Not without Caleb.

Eventually, the empty Scottish landscape faded into the small town of Castlebay and I started down the familiar stone streets, eyeing the Cafe at the end of the row of coloured houses.

I heaved open the glass door and cringed as the bell tinkled but it was mercifully empty. There was a middle-aged man behind the counter that day—not the girl who'd seen my outburst after meeting The Spirit.

I ordered a small coffee and a sandwich, relieved to be getting a whole two meals in twenty-four hours, and took a seat near the back.

The bell sounded several times as people drifted in but I buried my head in my phone. No point in being noticed.

There was no news about Sam, but as for Sapphire, her face was everywhere. Some family members back in Haiti had come forward with kind words, and she was described as a 'pillar of the community.'

There was barely any mention of her son, or, for that matter, me. I did find one tiny article, Crazy mother sighted again at The Lodge, but that was it.

I continued scrolling, until finally, I found John's face.

Early this morning, John Antipaz was released from custody, charged only with perverting the course of justice.

Several groups, including the infamous LFG, are celebrating their victory after a twenty-four-hour protest, which took place mere metres from where the Barra Ten were last seen.

Strange. I hadn't noticed any protests. Perhaps that was for the best.

Still, John was okay. I resolved to call him once things had calmed down to check in, tell him about Sam, and talk about Sapphire.

As I rested there, naively gazing at the screen with a half-eaten sandwich in one hand, someone else appeared at the table before me.

I startled, dropping the sandwich, which fell with a resounding thump, back onto the plate. He was young this time, younger than me, and sat in a tailored, modern suit with slicked back, pure black hair and a smooth, unwrinkled face.

For a minute, I didn't recognise him.

'Can I help you?'

He said nothing and continued to stare. The amusement played on his face.

Finally, I saw it. It was The Spirit, only not so old, and in modern clothes.

My hands shook, so I brought them to my lap. What did the bastard want from now? Hadn't I done enough?

'It's you.'

He crossed one leg over the other. Silent.

I took a breath. 'What do you want?'

With an unbelievably frustrating slowness, he leaned forward to place his elbows on the table. 'I wanted to thank you.'

I swallowed. 'For what?' My voice was shaky.

'For letting me take care of something myself. I normally like to delegate, but sometimes that isn't possible, and... sorry, what was her name?'

A cold knife of terror plunged into my chest as the penny dropped. It was him. I wrapped my hands around my cup.

'Sapphire.'

'Ah yes, Sapphire.' He grinned. 'She was a difficult one. All those charms you see, they're not good for me. That's why it took so long to...' He gestured to his new clothes.

I was facing Sapphire's killer. He was provoking me, but I had to stay calm. Get as much information as possible.

'What about Caleb?'

'Hmm?' His brow drew down for a second. 'Oh, him. He'll be fine,' he said with a flippant wave before coming in close. 'Trust me.'

With a final smirk, he stood and weaved through the tables, giving the barista a mock salute as he passed. The bell rang one last time as The Spirit passed through the door and I tried to steady my breath. It felt like I was breathing sand.

My little boy was safe, wasn't he?

I gripped the cup tighter. I had to believe that. I had to believe him.

I stayed in the Cafe for a long time, hugging my cold coffee and watching the road, wishing Caleb would come tottering by.