Chapter Thirty-Nine

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Orkney

May 2024

CLEM

They are in the car, driving away from the Triskele in a hurry, the car swerving dangerously across the muddy pathway. Quinn narrowly misses a metal cattle gate that swings toward them, the headlights glinting off the aluminum posts. He gives a shout and manages to right the car at the last minute.

“Why did you promise them that?” Quinn says finally. “You said you’d find the book and yet you’ve no bloody clue what they were on about.”

She turns to him. “I do, actually.”

“You do.” He doesn’t believe her.

She draws a sharp breath, recalling the book she saw in the hospital bathroom. She knows better than to attempt to explain that. I saw a ghostly book in the hospital that showed me a woman in flames and then it vanished.

“I need to talk to Erin,” she says finally.

···

It’s the next morning, just after eight o’clock. They’ve not spoken since leaving Orkney. She can sense that Quinn is angry at her. That he blames her for the confrontation with Edina and her crew.

“What was Edina’s last name?” Quinn presses.

“I’ve no idea. Why?”

“We need to tell the police about what happened.”

“I thought you said the police were shit.”

Quinn says nothing. She checks her phone and sees a number of missed calls from Stephanie. First, she rings the hospital to check on Erin. She’s just been in surgery. They’ve removed the stitches from her other eye, and her vision is clear. Clem breathes a sigh of relief.

“Morning,” Stephanie says when she calls her back. “Just checking in. Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Clem says, and she suspects Stephanie is wondering where the hell she and Quinn have been for the past two days. She holds back from mentioning their trip to Orkney. “I was hoping there had been some news of Senna.”

“No, sadly not,” she says. “I have some updates from the SIO,” she says, the sound of rustling papers in the background.

“SIO?” Clem asks.

“Senior investigating officer,” Stephanie says. “And some things I wanted to follow up on. In particular, we managed to track down Paul, the guy Erin mentions on her TikTok. Do you want to come to the station?”

“Oh,” Clem says, taken aback. They’ve not met at the police station before. “Yes, of course,” she says, and they arrange a time to meet, but she can’t help but feel uneasy.

Stephanie greets them at reception and takes them through to her office.

“This man,” she says, bringing an image up on the screen of her desktop, “is Paul Renney.”

Clem looks him over. He’s a heavyset white male, midfifties, black hair with silver temples. Deep eye bags and a bovine expression. An old leather jacket, the lapels curled from use, a blue shirt.

“He’s an antiques dealer based in Stratford,” Stephanie says. “We brought him in for questioning.”

“And what did he say?” Quinn asks.

“We can show you some of the recording,” Stephanie says, opening a video file. Clem watches intently as an image of a man seated at a desk appears, the back of DC Sanger’s head as he faces him. The camera is mounted high on the wall, looking down. Stephanie scrolls a little into the footage, then presses the play button.

“Erin contacted me about a book she had been given,” Paul says.

“When was this?” DC Sanger asks, writing something down.

“Last summer. July, I think. Maybe August.”

“She contacted you how?”

“I have several social media accounts in relation to my antiques business.”

“And she contacted you about a book?”

“A very unique book.”

“What was unique about it?”

“It was cursed.”

“Cursed?”

Paul leans back in his chair with a sigh. “I know you probably don’t believe in such things.”

“Do you believe it?”

“As an antiquarian, I have come across many strange things. And more than one cursed object. I have seen the consequences of possessing something that is cursed.”

“And what did you do to help Erin?”

Paul is silent for a long time. “I had to do some research. This was a very unusual object, and I had to be sure I gave the correct advice. Also, I was a little bit frightened.”

“Of?”

“Well, of what might happen if I intervened. Curses are often put on an object for a reason. And if I intervened, I feared I, too, may be cursed.”

“In what way was Erin cursed?”

“She told me she had suffered nightmares,” Paul says. “And then, one day she began imagining herself harming her mother, and her baby daughter. She felt the book was the cause of it. And so she tried to get rid of the book, as anyone would. But each time she threw it out, it would return. She tried everything.”

“Where did she get this book, then? Couldn’t she just give it back?”

“Apparently she attempted to, but the fellow who gave it to her—a man she knew only as the Brother—had committed suicide.”

Clem thinks of the TikTok she watched from March, where Erin announced simply “He’s dead.” Maybe she was referring to the Brother.

“What did you advise her?” DC Sanger asks Paul.

“I researched a little and found that the book was connected to a witch,” he says. “A woman who was a magnificent healer, and a Carrier of the book by birth. She was killed at the stake at Fynhallow, a beach in Orkney. I found a spell that Erin would have to perform on Beltane on the exact spot where the burning took place.”

Stephanie presses pause and looks to Clem and Quinn.

“A witch,” Quinn says, folding his arms. “Great. I suppose you’re going to charge Erin for witchcraft next?”

“Regardless of the fantastical statements made here,” Stephanie says, “it seems we have a motivation here for the trip to Orkney. Erin was in possession of a book she thought was cursed, and she was in touch with someone who told her that she had to perform a spell on the first of May on the beach at Fynhallow, which is exactly what appears to have happened.”

“Okay, I get that Erin thought the book was cursed,” Clem says. “But Senna and Arlo went with her to perform the spell willingly.”

Stephanie doesn’t look convinced.

“Why do you think Erin has said multiple times that she is glad Arlo is dead?”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Quinn snaps. “She almost died not so long ago. She watched her boyfriend burn to death. She’s dissociating, or whatever that psychologist said.” He glances at Clem, a flash of anger. She knows he still blames her for Erin’s state.

“That may be,” Stephanie says. “But as it stands, Erin is now a person of interest in this case.”