The Smoke In The Photograph (20 page)

PC Mark Tyler wouldn't have called himself a non-believer. It was just that the realm of the supernatural was not something that had ever crossed his path. He only dealt with things that affected him personally.

That being said, he had to admit that something about the Draper house made him feel uneasy. Not frightened as such, but on edge. Expectant of something to happen.

He wasn't sure whether he really felt something, or if it was Mrs Draper's tales of ghosts in the house, or just knowing that this was the very place the first Ripper murder had taken place. As he walked through the house, he kept looking over his shoulder though. He couldn't help but feel something was following him.

There was no one in the house. He had checked every room, cupboard and cranny in the place, and then left the light on in each room as Mrs Draper had requested. The woman was nervous, that was for sure.

There was only the attic left to check and he climbed the stairs to it and found the door open. He flicked on the lights and was shocked at how bright it was, and at just how big the room was. He looked across to the paintings set against the wall.

Tyler knew nothing about art, but he could see that Mrs Draper was talented just from the two paintings on display. However, he didn't understand what they meant.

He walked over to check the windows. He glanced down into the garden and for a moment he froze in fear as he saw two orange glowing eyes staring back up at him. He quickly realised that it was just Mrs Draper and Addle smoking in the driveway.

As his pulse returned to normal, he saw all of the nails that had been driven into the wood. They were all at different angles and had been driven to varying depths. Whoever had done this had done it quickly, and frantically.

He went across the room to the door on the other side. He knew from reading the case files of the first Ripper murder that this was a darkroom.

He opened it up and flicked on the light. The smell of the developing chemicals stung his nostrils, but there was no one hiding in there.

He was satisfied that there was no one in the house, and that Mrs Draper would be safe inside with Addle and him to keep watch.

He descended through the house, feeling that presence around him. It made him want to run, but he refused to yield to his own fear and slowed his pace right down. If there was a ghost in the house, as Mrs Draper claimed, then Mark Tyler was not going to give it the satisfaction of seeing him flee in fear.

He finally made it outside and Mrs Draper walked over when she saw him exit the house.

'All clear. I've checked the whole house.'

Mrs Draper sighed with relief.

'Thank you, PC Tyler,' she said.

Mrs Draper offered to make them a coffee. They both accepted.

'Do you want to come inside?' she asked.

Tyler really didn't want to. He felt much more comfortable now he was outside the house again.

'Sorry, Mrs Draper, but our orders were to stay out here.'

'Okay, give me a few minutes and I'll bring them out to you.'

Addle wandered back to the car. Tyler thanked her and watched her go inside and close the door. Then he went back to the car where Addle was playing with the heater.

'So, do you believe all this ghost stuff?' Addle said as Tyler got in the passenger seat.

He shrugged.

'I don't know,' he said. 'All I know is we were ordered to sit here and keep the nice lady safe.'

Addle nodded.

'Yeah, but I think the nice lady may be a few sandwiches short of a picnic,' Addle said. 'She went really weird while you were up in the attic.'

The memory of the attic sent a shiver down Tyler's spine for some reason.

'DCI Fluting thinks it's important for us to watch her, so there must be some risk.'

Addle sniggered a little.

'Let's face it, though, Fluting is clutching at straws. If some nutter told him the Pope had committed these murders, he would probably be asking for a search warrant for the Vatican.'

Tyler knew that Addle was only trying to lighten the mood, but his flippancy in the face of such heinous crimes seemed a little uncalled for to him.

'Lay off, Addle. He's had a rough time, but everyone says he's the best detective in the county.'

Addle looked shocked that his joke had been taken so seriously.

'All right,' he said. 'Jesus, I was just trying to make conversation.'

The house felt cold when Julia got inside, but then it always seemed to. The lights, though, were some comfort, as was the assurance from Tyler that the house was secure and there was no one there.

She saw the note from Steven on the dining table, but could not bring herself to read it. She knew she would have to confront him sooner or later, especially if Sam Fluting did release him, but right then she just wanted to distance herself from Steven and his secrets.

She went into the kitchen and began making the coffees for the two police officers valiantly guarding her outside.

She was just pouring the water into the mugs when the phone rang. Her heart stopped for a moment. What if it was Sam, saying that he was on his way back with Steven? She wasn't ready for that. She would have to call Wendy to come back and get her again.

She picked up the phone and nervously spoke.

'Hello?' she said into the receiver.

'Julia, darling,' Fran's voice boomed into her ears. 'Where have you been? I've been trying to get hold of you all day.'

Julia was glad to hear Fran's voice. She was often blunt to the point of being offensive, but she was a true friend to her, always there to listen.

'I've had an absolutely awful day,'  hearing in her own voice that she was once again on the verge of tears.

'Get washed up, get dressed up, grab whatever new work you have and get to the bloody Lindum gallery,' Fran said.

The show. The one Fran had organised to keep people interested in her work. With everything that had taken place in the last few days she had completely forgotten. How could she go tonight? It was ludicrous.

'What?' No, I can't,'

'Julia,' Fran said sternly. 'The show starts in less than an hour. I've arranged for a lot of critics who like your work and several buyers to come all the way up from London. If you don't get your arse here and play the interesting, talented artist for them, it could mean the end of your career.'

Julia felt a wave of anger. Fran never minced words, but that had sounded almost like a threat.

'For fuck's sake, Fran, do you have any idea what I've been through today?'

Fran laughed.

'No, I don't. So why don't you tell me when you get here?'

Julia was going to answer back once more, but Fran hung up before she got the chance.

'Fuck it!' Julia shouted to the empty house as she slammed the phone back into its cradle.

There was no option. She had to go, as much as she didn't want to. She realised Fran's words had not been a threat, but a warning. As always, she was looking out for Julia's best interests, even if Julia wasn't herself.

She flicked the kettle back on, and started the process of making coffees for Tyler and Addle once again.

Steven sat at the little table in the interview room with his head in his hands. How had things gotten this far? Did they really suspect that he was the Lincoln Ripper?

Julia would have found the note by now. He wondered if she had been calling the station demanding his release and proclaiming his innocence, or whether she had believed the accusations.

The door opened and Sam Fluting came back into the room, this time accompanied by a young blonde woman. She looked no older than twenty, but Steven suspected she was just blessed with one of those ever youthful faces.

They took places opposite him. Steven sat up straight.

'I know you're keeping something from me,' Fluting said. 'If you just tell me, this would be a lot easier.'

Steven didn't know what to say.

'I didn't do it.' He heard the weakness in his own voice and hated himself for it.

Sam got to his feet, and Steven felt himself flinch, bracing himself for another attack.

'I believe you,' Fluting said. 'But I know that you are still keeping something from me. You haven't asked for a solicitor, so until you tell me what the big secret is, you're staying here.'

Surely this was wrong. He must have some rights, but he had willingly waived his right to a solicitor. He looked at the young woman.

'Do you think this is fair?' Steven asked.

For a moment it looked as though she was going to answer, then she looked at Fluting and changed her mind.

'I am PC Branning's superior, Doctor Draper,' Fluting said. 'In here she thinks whatever I tell her to. So come along, let's not waste any more time. What is your big secret?'

Steven stood up. He saw Sam move ready to defend himself. He didn't want to attack the detective though. Instead, he rubbed his temples. It felt like his head was about to explode. He didn't know what he could do.

'Come on, Steve? Fluting said, his tone full of reassurance that Steven guessed was probably fake. 'Just tell me and this can all come to an end. I'll take you home myself, if you just tell me.'

Steven couldn't take any more. He felt nothing but defeat. He slumped into his chair.

'I was having an affair,' he whispered.

'Louder please?' Fluting said. 'I didn't catch that, and I doubt the tape did either.'

'I was having an affair,' he shouted.

Fluting’s brow furrowed in confusion and he closed his eyes.

'That's your big secret?' Fluting said. 'That's what you weren't telling me?'

Steven felt embarrassed realising that he had been wasting their time.

'Yes, it's over. I ended it today, but I didn't want my wife to know.'

Fluting laughed a little.

'That's why I've been keeping you here?'

All Steven could manage was a nod, hanging his head in shame and wishing the Earth would swallow him up.

'Who with?' Fluting asked.

'The woman you saw leaving the house this afternoon. I'd just told her I didn't want to see her anymore.'

'Your nurse?' Fluting asked.

Steven was at first confused by the question. Then he remembered that he had told the detective that was who Ariel was earlier.

'Yes,' he said. 'Except, she's not a nurse.'

Fluting nodded.

'I know, I'd met Ariel before.'

There was a knock on the door. Fluting opened it, and Steven heard another man speak.

'Sorry to disturb you, sir,' the man said, 'but PC Tyler is on the radio and wants to speak to you.'

Sam nodded and turned back to Steven,

'I need to take this. Wait here, Doctor Draper. We'll be with you shortly,' he said. 'Branning?'

The young officer got up and followed Fluting out of the room. Steven was left alone, embarrassed and ashamed. He knew now that he had to tell Julia everything. She was stronger than he gave her credit for. He hoped they would be able to work through it, and that she could learn to trust him again. Even if she couldn't, even if she never wanted to see him again, she deserved the truth.

Julia had taken the coffees out for the two policemen watching the house. She had told them that she had to go out. Tyler had told her that he would contact Sam Fluting to find out what they should do.

She had returned to the house and rushed up to the attic. She had prepared no sketches as she had promised Fran she would. The only new work she had to show were two paintings that weren't really her own, and certainly weren't her style. She had nothing else. She considered taking the paintings, but changed her mind and headed downstairs. She wished to spend no more time up there in the studio than was necessary. The two recent paintings were too different from her usual work. If they were the beginning of a new phase, it would be better to wait until she had more work in that style before unveiling them to anyone.

She showered and got dressed in the dark blue cocktail dress she had bought for Steven and her last anniversary.

The memory of that night made her feel sad. They had been so happy that night. She had just had her most successful show of her career and everything had seemed like it was supposed to be. Of course then the breakdown had come along. She had spent so many years trying to run from the memories of her childhood, from all of the shit she had been put through. She had thrown her pain into her work, creating beauty out of her darkest memories.

However, the success she was experiencing had demanded more of her. She needed to work constantly in order to supply the demand for new Julia Draper paintings. Eventually it had all become too much. And the memories of all of the neglect and abandonment she had felt as a child had taken over her mind.

This was no time to dwell on these things though. She needed to get ready and get to the gallery.

She went downstairs, taking the freestanding mirror with her. She was sitting at the kitchen counter putting on her makeup when Tyler entered the room

'DCI Fluting says to go ahead to the gallery.’

That was not the plan. Earlier Sam had told her that if she had to go out, then he and Branning would follow her, leaving Tyler and Addle to watch the house.

'Isn't he going to follow me there?' she asked.

Tyler shook his head.

'He said it's only a few minutes away and it's a public place so you'll be safe. He just said to call him if you go anywhere other than home afterwards.'

'I don't even want to go to the gallery,' she said, putting on her mascara. 'So that won't be a problem.'

'Have a good night, Mrs Draper,.’

He turned to leave, but stopped when Julia spoke.

'Do you want me to leave the door open, so you two can help yourself to coffee?' she asked.

Tyler thought about it, and then shook his head.

'No. It'll be safer if you lock it. We'll stay outside and keep watch.'

'Okay, thanks,' Julia said.

Tyler exited the room. She heard the front door open and the policeman exit the house. She turned back to the mirror and continued with her make-up.

Once she was ready she went over to her large handbag she had been using that day and started to move the essentials into her clutch bag. Cigarettes, lighter, phone and chewing gum. While searching the inside pocket she found the ceremonial dagger that Helga had given her. She thought about leaving it, but then slipped it into the clutch bag, just in case.