“Should be okay.”
“One of the police officers mentioned you raised the alarm. Were you out of bed or something?”
Ruby had forgotten about the voice. She hesitated. “I heard a voice, Jack.”
“Someone outside?”
“No. Someone in my room. It woke me up.”
“I’ve heard that before, Ruby,” Catherine said. “They call it auditory hallucinations. My understanding is they can follow a traumatic experience—sort of a protective mechanism.”
Ruby hugged herself. “That’s sad. I thought it might be an angel.”
“Well, it could be that, too,” Catherine said.
Jack’s phone rang. He stood up and headed towards the garden to take the call. Ruby watched him, noticed the urgency that came over him. He closed off the call.
“Hey, Ruby. A short visit it is. We’ve got an urgent call to attend to. We’ll come back and see you soon.”
“Is it to do with what’s happened?”
Jack looked at Ruby. His grey-blue eyes gave away little detail. “Yes. It’s a good lead.”
Jack and Catherine rushed off.
God, are you there? Please protect and help them.
She rubbed her arms along her sides. You were an angel, weren’t you? Not a hallucination. And I do thank you.
49 – A creepy battleaxe house
JACK REGRETTED having to rush off.
“What’s the lead, Jack?”
“An officer on foot patrol had a resident come up to him, complaining that someone had used her cat for target practice, and put an arrow in it. The resident pointed out the house where she believed the villain lived.”
“A crossbow arrow, of course?”
“They called it an arrow-like bolt.”
Jack had the car started and in motion before Catherine’s door was even closed. He drove fast. He needed some priority travel so the unmarked vehicle’s flashing warning lights and siren were turned on. Not that flashing lights and sirens cleared a path—far from it. But Jack was in a hurry, and had even less patience than usual for drivers trapped in their own worlds.
Jack knew Cath didn’t enjoy his driving, especially not his emergency driving. Her legs were straight and tight, as if reaching for an imaginary brake pedal. She gripped the edge of the seat as he manoeuvred around a large truck—the driver doing everything possible to help him out. Jack gave him a thank you wave as he passed. The car hit the gutter, but he righted the car soon after.
“Relax, Cath. Remember, I passed the police pursuit driving course with flying colours.”
“More concerned about when you last did the refresher course.”
“Funny.” Jack slowed to approach a set of traffic lights.
They drove past the elevated parkland they’d seen from the safe house on the other side of the river, past modern architect-designed houses. Every now and again, a house appeared that was out of place, from another time period. Jack felt a touch of envy—the owners of such properties were sitting on a gold mine. They saw the police officer waiting near the curb, waving to them. Jack looked at the neglected letterbox marking access to a narrow driveway—but where was the house?
Catherine must have sensed his confusion. ‘‘It’s a battleaxe block, Jack. A house behind another.”
Jack nodded as he turned into the driveway. “Everything seems to have a medieval feel about it. Battleaxe. What sort of name is that for a block of land?”
Jack had encountered these types of blocks before, but never a house so well concealed. He hadn’t encountered the word battleaxe before either, at least, not in relation to property.
“You ready for this?” Catherine asked. “The driveway is the axe handle. The house is the axe blade.”
Now the term made sense.
“Spooky, but once again convincing me that you’ll always be my Trivial Pursuit partner.” Jack stopped the car at the end of the driveway and stared at the rundown place—it was the perfect image for a poster advertising a scary movie or book. “What a mess. A neglected house. Just as well it’s tucked down the back, as it offers no street appeal. Neighbours would be happy.”
“Sadly, yes, but it could be brought back to life and it’s private. No visitors. No Mormons.”
“Only brave ones.” Jack said opening his car door. “The man will be well gone, Cath, but have your firearm ready just in case.”
“Will do, Jack.” Catherine was on her phone. “Just requesting a search to see if any car is registered to this address.”
Jack and Catherine climbed out of the car.
The foot patrol officer had done a thorough search of the property. He believed no one was home and advised them that the side door was unlocked. He also told them that the neighbour was probably right about the attack happening here—he’d found a pool of blood in the backyard.
The officer joined Jack and Catherine as they walked down the side of the house. Jack could hear a dog barking somewhere in the neighbourhood. All the windows had their curtains drawn. The yard was a jungle and needed one of those backyard transformation reality shows to do their magic. Jack was sure that was the last thing on the owner’s mind . . . although magic may have been appealing.
They circled the house. Jack looked at Catherine and the constable. “Let’s proceed with caution.” They went back to the side entrance.
