‘And? And what?’ Jess suddenly pulled her hands back, leaning against the car door. ‘Oh god, he attacked you, didn’t he?’

  Elizabeth’s response, a tiny nod, was enough and Jess suddenly banged on the car door. ‘Stop, please. I think I’m going to be sick.’

  Elizabeth lowered herself to the curb, sitting next to Jess as the girl continued to dry heave. When she could speak her voice was hoarse, ‘Now I know why you ran away.’

  ‘I didn’t run away.’ Elizabeth paused in her denial, tucking a stray hair behind her ear before continuing. ‘Well, not at first at least. I spent the rest of the night with Michael, not that either of us slept much. And then in the morning we drove around, looking for a building he had seen in his dreams, just before he woke.’

  Jess wiped her sleeve across her mouth and then stood, shakily, turning to look at Elizabeth. ‘And? Did you find it?’

  ‘No, although I think I’ve worked out now where it was.’ She stood, smoothing down her skirt. ‘I went to work, Michael went home – or so I thought – and then I haven’t seen him since.’

  Jess frowned. ‘You spoke to him though right, when West was at the house, that same day?’

  The two moved away from the edge of the road and began walking towards the house. ‘Yes, I did. I told him what had happened to James and….’ Again, Elizabeth trailed off, considering the sequence of events.

  ‘And, Michael was surprised by the news, because he had nothing to do with the attack, with any of the murders.’ Jess growled, angry, and started walking faster along the pavement.

  ‘Well, yes, he was surprised. But listen, Jessica, he also told me, told West, that he’d been in the park all day.’ Elizabeth paused, replaying the conversation she’d had with Michael. ‘And I don’t think he told the police this bit, but he told me that he didn’t remember leaving the park.’

  Jess stopped so abruptly that Elizabeth bumped into her. The girl turned and crossed her arms. ‘So? I don’t always remember when I leave places.’

  ‘Well, so maybe he was in a fugue state…. sleep walking perhaps and he…’

  ‘And he what? Nearly killed James?’ Jess turned away and was about to run off towards home, too furious with Elizabeth to remain in her company, when she noticed there were two police cars outside the house. She jogged a few steps forward, unsure whether the presence was a good thing, perhaps a sign that Michael had been brought home, or whether it meant more bad news.

  ‘I wonder why they’re back?’ Elizabeth appeared to have been following the same chain of thought and as she rested her hand lightly on Jess’ shoulder the young woman leaned towards it. Jess’s heightened emotions, she realized, were not Elizabeth’s fault, but were because she was terrified that her brother was going to be taken away from her.

  ‘Come on, let’s go and find out what’s going on.’ Elizabeth took a few steps towards the house before she realized that Jess was not following her. ‘Come on Jess, we can only help Michael if we cooperate with the police.’ Elizabeth turned back to repeat her words to Jess and was faced with an empty pavement.

  1st February, 11:30pm

  ‘Michael?’ Jess’ mouth was a comical ‘O’ as she stood face to face with her brother. A sound in the bushes to the right of the pavement had startled her and a flash of movement, too large to be a cat or other animal had led her to investigate. She pushed through a narrow space between two scrubby bushes and was about to turn and call to Elizabeth to wait for her when a hand clamped over her mouth and a familiar voice by her ear urged her to be quiet. Jess had nodded her understanding and assent and when the hand moved, she turned to face the figure.

  ‘My god, am I glad to see you.’ Jess reached out to hug her brother, but he backed away further into the undergrowth. He beckoned for her to follow and the two tramped between trees and through brambles and nettles in silence for a few minutes, gradually moving further away from the main road and their house.

  When they eventually emerged at one corner of the playing fields attached to the local school Jess threw her arms around Michael’s body, clinging to him like a limpet for several minutes. ‘Sheesh, I’m pleased to see you too, but it has only been a day.’ Michael’s voice shook slightly, counteracting the blasé attitude he had attempted to put into his words.

  Jess released her brother from her embrace and took a step back, looking up at him. ‘I’ve been so worried. Did they hurt you?’

  Michael frowned, at first assuming Jess meant Mac before realizing that she must have meant the police. ‘No, of course not. West’s a decent guy I think, and generally the police are more trustworthy than media would make us believe.’

  Jess glared, looking as if she was going to contest her brother’s point as Michael went on, ‘but are you OK? I’ve been so worried that he would have got to you before I could.’ He pulled his sister back into a hug and then steered her towards the perimeter of the football pitches so they could walk more easily than in the woods.

  ‘Who would get to me?’

  ‘Where were you?’

  The two spoke simultaneously and both tried to answer at the same time.

  ‘Mac.’

  ‘With Elizabeth.’

  Michael stared blankly at Jess. ‘Where is she then?’

  ‘We were heading home. Elizabeth had gone to her grandparents this morning. But I told her you’d been arrested and so she came back, I met her at the train station, I didn’t want to be by myself. We were nearly at the house, I saw the police were outside and then I heard a noise – you – in the bushes, I followed, and I guess Elizabeth still headed to the house.’ Jess’ words tumbled out so she could get to her question. ‘Why would Mac be trying to get me, he’s gone home, hasn’t he?’

  Michael closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck while he decided where to start. His priority was still to get Jess to safety, and Elizabeth too, though he considered that she was probably fairly safe in the company of West and his officers. Opening his eyes, he scanned their surroundings. ‘We need to get somewhere safe, I think I know where we can go, close by but not somewhere the police will think to look, at least I hope not.’

  He began to walk to the opposite corner of the field from where they had emerged, speaking rapidly as he did so. ‘OK, so, this is going to sound crazy, but Mac is the killer. He’s done it all to frame me, and he’s done a good enough job of that for the police to be convinced. And he’s Ben’s father.’ He heard Jess’ sharp intake of breath right behind him. ‘I know, right? I did say it would sound crazy.’

  ‘Crazy is not a strong enough word for what it sounds.’ Jess increased her pace so she could hold his hand. ‘How do you know all this?’

  ‘Well, it turns out that Ben and I were not the only psychic psychos in the family, and it also seems that Mac has some mad skills that I don’t.’

  ****

  ‘Dr Byfield.’ West was just exiting his car as Elizabeth approached, he’d been forced to park beyond the house due to the police cars already lined up along the kerb in front of the property. ‘I was about to call you.’

  ‘Why, what’s happened?’ She glanced over her shoulder again, still mystified as to where Jess had vanished to. ‘I, we were just heading to the house to see if Michael was back, and to sort of gather our thoughts I guess.’

  ‘We? You and Jess? Where is she?’ West peered up the street, instincts kicking in. ‘Does she have her phone with her?’

  ‘Um, yes, and I don’t know where she is, why?’ Elizabeth frowned, feeling like she was missing something, or many things. ‘Is Michael OK?’

  ‘I can only assume so.’ West answered distractedly. ‘Jess’ number please?’

  Elizabeth gave the number and watched as West used his radio to message a colleague, asking for a trace to be put on the device. ‘Are you not going to call her?’

  ‘No, I think she is with Michael, and a call might screw up any chance we have of finding him.’ West thought for a second and then held out his hand. ‘I need you to hand your phone over to me too please.’

  Elizabeth automatically reached into her handbag and made to hand over the phone before processing what she was doing and what West had said. ‘Why do you need my phone? I’ve not spoken to Michael since before he was arrested. And I’m not going to call Jess if you don’t want me to. Why does it matter if Jess is with him? If he’s free, then you must have released him because he’s not a suspect anymore.’ A sudden breeze blew past the two and Elizabeth rubbed her arms.

  ‘Let’s go inside, I will fill you in on what’s been going on and hopefully you can answer some questions for me.’

  Elizabeth sat on Jess’ desk chair staring in shock at DI West as he finished updating her. ‘So, Michael essentially escaped from his cell and is on the run?’

  West nodded.

  ‘By manipulating his guard and another officer?’

  ‘Yes, and I know that sounds far-fetched, but…’

  Elizabeth interrupted. ‘It really doesn’t sound far-fetched. Shit, no wonder you’re worried about Jess.’ She massaged her forehead. ‘What the hell is going on?’

  ‘Beyond what I’ve told you?’ West glanced at his silent radio for the third time in as many minutes and then sat down on the edge of the armchair nearest to Elizabeth.

  ‘Yes, there’s more that Michael probably hasn’t told you. He’s been having dreams, but not – it seems – like last time.’ She paused and looked up at West as he interrupted.

  ‘Not like last time as in, not involving sleep walking, or not involving being drugged by someone else in order to influence those dreams?’

  ‘Well, there has been some sleep walking, but as far as I know he’s not left his bedroom – as you know that would be virtually impossible given the security set up.’

  West shook his head, ‘not so impossible actually, considering his escape from here earlier tonight.’

  ‘Good point, for getting out of his room, however I’m sure Jess or I would have noticed a ladder allowing him to get back in. Besides, the window is alarmed, so there’d be evidence if it had been opened.’

  West frowned and opened his mouth to respond as Elizabeth rushed on, ‘anyway, the dreams. Michael has been dreaming about the deaths and, as far as I can make out, he’s not been dreaming about them after they’ve happened, as if they are based on reading the news or hearing about the cases in some other way. No, he has been dreaming about them while they were happening.’ Elizabeth bit down hard on her lip, feeling like she was betraying Michael as she continued. ‘Look, detective, can I be honest here?’

  West suppressed a grin. ‘I’d be very grateful if you would be honest everywhere doctor.’

  Elizabeth grimaced. ‘Of course. The thing is, Michael thinks that he is watching the killer in his dreams, that he is somehow connected to them. Like how he made a connection with Ben? But, well I’m not convinced that’s it. Especially because he’s demonstrated recently that he can manipulate other people to do things – not just your officers, but his therapist.’ Elizabeth hurried on despite West looking as he was about to interrupt. ‘But he’s also demonstrated that he is not always in control of his actions, he half throttled me in his sleep a few nights ago. So, I am starting to worry that…’ She tailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

  ‘You’re starting to worry that he might be the killer?’ West sighed, glancing at his radio again. ‘I have to say I’m beginning to think that too. There are links between Michael and several of the victims, and there is physical evidence that places him at one of the scenes as well and….’ West’s radio squealed and he dashed out of the room to answer it, leaving Elizabeth reeling in shock as a result of the detective’s revelations.

  ****

  ‘So, why here?’ Jess looked up at the back of the terrace house from her location, crouching next to Michael on a tidy patio with empty planters awaiting the spring, and a wrought iron bench against the back wall of the house.

  Michael scratched his cheek, gazing at the house as if he didn’t know why they were there either. In his head it had made sense, a nearby location that he knew would be vacant where he and Jess could lay low while he worked out what to do next. Now however, the idea felt much less sensible, and much more likely to increase his appearance of guilt.

  ‘It’s, well. It’s one of the murder scenes, where Mac killed – either directly or indirectly – the couple who were living here. He set a fire too, I guess to cover his tracks.’

  Michael watched as Jess took a step back and gulped, her nostrils flaring as she tried to get a whiff of the fire that had ravaged parts of the property. ‘Why did he do that? Who were these people to you, to Ben?’

  Michael reached for the handle of the backdoor, expecting it to be locked and resigned to breaking a window in order to gain entry to the house. He figured now that he was a wanted felon he may as well rack up the crimes. Surprisingly the handle turned, and he slowly pushed open the door and crossed the threshold. ‘Do you know what Jess? The couple who lived here were complete strangers to Mac, Ben and me. He described this as a ‘crime of convenience’. A good location from which to watch our house, our comings and goings.’ Michael froze, mid-step.

  ‘What?’ Jess pushed up behind her brother, desperate to not break contact. ‘What?’ she repeated when Michael remained silent.

  ‘I just realized, Mac could still be here.’

  DI West and DS Johnson parked around the corner from Morgan Road, jogging the rest of the way to avoid drawing Michael’s attention. Jess’ phone had been traced to within one hundred metres of the house and as soon as the detectives had recognised the location they were convinced that Michael had returned to the scene of one of his crimes in order to hide.

  West moved to the front of the property while Johnson accessed the back via a small alley that ran along the back of the row of terrace houses. Signalling he was in position, Johnson entered through the back door at the same time as West went in through the front. West watched the stairs while Johnson did a sweep of the kitchen and the two burnt out reception rooms and the men then cautiously climbed the stairs.

  Jess and Michael had just reached the front bedroom when they heard footsteps on the stairs, turning and holding their hands in the air before they’d stepped foot into the room.

  2nd February, 2am

  West entered the interview room, ‘good evening Michael. Actually, more like a really early good morning now I suppose.’ West’s voice was calm, controlled, although he felt unsettled as he thought about the way Michael had somehow coerced two of his officers in order to escape custody. He now considered that he was in the presence of the person most likely to be responsible for the spree of murders that had been taking place over the past five months.

  West studied Michael closely, noting that he seemed surprisingly relieved at having been caught and taken straight back to the police station. His mood may have been because Jessica Manners and Elizabeth Byfield were now being guarded at Jess’ home for their own protection to ensure the killer, who Michael insisted was not him, but was in fact his uncle, could not somehow get to them. Also, at Michael’s insistence West had deployed a constable to again stand watch outside of James Booker’s hospital room, a post that had been stood down when Michael had been arrested. It was now reinstated owing to the fact that in Michael’s words Booker was ‘a loose end’.

  ‘OK Michael, now we’re here, and I can record your version of events let’s begin.’ Despite Michael’s unexpected relief at being apprehended again, his mood was anxious, a transformation from the quiet, collected man that West had remanded into custody less than twelve hours ago, a transformation that West had seen many times before when people were arrested. ‘Take your time.’

  Michael bobbed his head in assent, his eyes jittery, ‘Ok, great, thank you. So, I know this will sound insane, but my uncle, Mac, well he projected his mind into mine, somehow, while I was sleeping. It was as if he was actually there, in my cell earlier….and, well, like I said on the way here, he’s the killer.’

  West shook his head, feeling a mixture of pity and disappointment as he regarded the man in front of him. ‘Interesting Michael, very interesting. Particularly considering your uncle is dead.’

  ****

  ‘So, what do we know Inspector?’ Dr Smith leaned her head uncomfortably close to West’s as she gazed through the one-way glass at Michael.

  West took a step to the side and turned to face the psychologist. ‘Well, his Uncle, Steven MacNair, has been found, dead, in the house where we just rearrested Manners. But as yet we do not know how he died, or when.’

  ‘But you have charged him, Michael, with the murder of Thomas Smith?’ Smith shuddered.

  West paused, his hand on the door handle. ‘Well, we charged Manners earlier today, yesterday in fact, based on a tip that he had been seen at Smith’s house. But, more importantly, based on forensic evidence that recently came to light. And, of course the fact that he absconded is a significant indication of guilt.’

  ‘Unless of course this frankly insane story of telekinesis and god knows what else has any credence.’ Smith rolled her eyes. ‘Which, you’ll not be surprised to learn, I do not believe it does.’

  West shook his head slightly. ‘Be that as it may doctor, please excuse me while I carry on interviewing the suspect.’

  Michael jumped out of his chair the moment that West opened the door. ‘Detective, what the hell is going on? What’s happened to Mac? You can’t just tell me he’s dead and then leave the room.’ Thoughts were flying across Michael’s mind, had been since West had announced that Mac was dead. What did the news mean? That he, himself, was the killer, that he had murdered his uncle in another fugue state? Or did the death absolve him of guilt, as it had presumably occurred whilst he was in custody? Michael was even considering whether the news was a lie, designed to send him off balance, to trap him into admitting his guilt while his uncle observed proceedings from the other side of the one-way glass.