‘I don’t know,’ Bert said. ‘I’m not supposed to …’
Rosa scowled, jumping up from her chair and extending a pudgy hand. ‘Well in that case I’ll have them back. I should have known you wouldn’t do it.’
‘No, wait,’ Bert said, aghast. ‘I didn’t say I couldn’t. Sit down. I can do a three card reading, past, present and future.’
Rosa threw her arms around him, pressing her bosoms into his chest. ‘Oh thank you, Bert, I knew you wouldn’t let me down.’ She released her grip and relaxed back into her chair, her mouth upturned in a congenial smile.
Bert felt his pyjamas tighten with his arousal; relieved his modesty was preserved under the hospital blankets. Taking a few short breaths, he focused on the cards. Rosa had a short temper, and they did not have much time. He shuffled the deck before laying the three cards face down on the bed. Working with a different deck was like wearing someone else’s clothes. He wondered how he had forgotten about his own deck of cards, buried underneath the roots of the tree. He scratched his neck, and turned over the first card.
‘This is your past. Life has not been kind to you. I see a man, an uncle. He’s much older than you. He is entering your room. You are pretending to be asleep but he doesn’t care …’
Rosa’s eyes grew wide and she reached out to snatch the card. Bert batted her hand away. ‘Don’t be upset. It’s over now. I’ll move on to the present. You mustn’t dwell on the past.’
Rosa glanced back at the room door and frowned. ‘Can you hurry up? We haven’t got much time.’
Bert turned over the card. ‘I see a bald man, with a black moustache. He is kissing you goodbye and leaving your home.’
‘Yes that’s him,’ Rosa said, leaning forward in her chair.
‘I see him again, sitting in his car with a tall, thin, red-haired woman. They’re planning what to do with your money. He’s kissing her, telling her she’s the only one he’s ever loved.’ Bert knew that each word was a dagger into Rosa’s heart. But he had little sympathy for her when she treated him so abruptly.
‘I knew it,’ she whispered, her eyes narrowing as she spat the words. ‘The bastard. He said he was visiting his father.’
But the reading had not finished, and Bert felt his blood boil as he watched images of Rosa stealing from her patients on a daily basis. The more disabled they were, the more she took. Trinkets from home, soap, jewellery, even socks. No wonder she waddled when she walked; her bra held a lot more than her breasts alone. Like a magpie she would fish through her trinkets, some of them never seeing the light of day. But it gave her a certain satisfaction, stealing from people who could not answer back.
Rosa blew her nose before standing up to leave. ‘All this time I’ve been wondering what’s going on and you gave it to me straight. Thank you.’
‘The reading’s not over yet. Wouldn’t you like to know your future?’
Rosa sneered. ‘I already know. I’m kicking that bastard out, then I’m going to book a cruise. That’s the last you’ll see of me.’
Bert set his mouth into a thin line. He could hear voices down the corridor as the meeting broke up. Rosa put out her hand for the cards. ‘I’ve got to go. Give me back the cards. You’ll have no use for them now.’
Bert quickly shoved the cards under his pillow. ‘Wait, I have news of your future. It’s very important. Meet me on the fourth floor tomorrow night at nine, room 113.’
‘But that floor’s taped off for renovation. You won’t get in,’ Rosa whispered.
‘Leave it to me, I’m good at sneaking out. This is important, Rosa. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Rosa nodded before hastily making her way out the door.
It was just like the old days for Bert when he escaped outside under the cover of darkness. The floor had been cordoned off due to renovations so only pass holders could gain access. PVC was replacing the rotted sash windows, and room 113 was windowless, because they had ordered the wrong size. But Rosa didn’t know that. She rubbed her arms as she entered, squinting in the darkness. The electricity for that part of the building had been turned off, and as Bert stepped out of the shadows, he relayed the rest of her reading. She was going to die after falling out of the fourth-floor window at three minutes past nine. Rose had barely enough time to scream before she realised what was going on. Bert’s push sent her falling into the arms of the cold night air, screaming and flailing like a wingless bird.
As Rosa’s bloodied corpse lay on the concrete ground below, Bert ran to the other end of the building and climbed down the piping into his own room. As he gripped the cold metal chutes, he was reminded of the old oak tree from which Callum fell. He would have loved to have seen Rosa fall for himself, but he had to make do with pretending to wake from his sleep, acting groggy and confused as he asked the other staff what was going on. A later search revealed many stolen items in her locker, and Bert played his audience as he told them how Rosa used to sneak into his room at night, desperate to talk about her childhood abuse. Bert was lucid enough to explain how she had kissed him on the cheek and left, saying goodbye one last time. Like before, Bert had given a very good performance, and her death provided him with respite from his ills. His story was backed up by the CCTV, which only covered the inside of the building. All they could see was Rosa making her way through the corridor alone.
Killing Rosa made him long for the forest, and he vowed to do whatever it took to be free. His cards awaited him, and they would afford him the power to do so much more.
Chapter Forty-One
Briefing brought with it the usual workload of jobs that had trickled in from the night before. Jennifer’s sergeant apologised as she handed the jobs out to her small team. She looked slightly harried, her curly black hair springing up from the crown of her head, reminding Jennifer of a jack-in-the-box toy she had as a child.
‘I’m sorry, guys, but today we’ve got to mop up some plain old domestic incidents to help CID. They’re quite nasty so don’t rush, but if you happen to get any downtime I recommend sorting out whatever outstanding paperwork you have. Jennifer, you’re down to attend briefing in Lexton MIT. See if there’re any updates on the Raven case. Zoe’s written up a report of her dealings with the Facebook group to date, you can bring that with you.’
Jennifer nodded. Zoe had been keeping Jennifer updated by text. She was slowly winning the group members’ trust, particularly a member known as Geoff. She was playing the persona of a teenage girl who had turned to drugs because her parents fed her money instead of love. Each word she typed on the group’s page was carefully constructed, and she expected to be invited to a meeting very soon. Jennifer sipped her coffee as her sergeant continued doling out jobs, and none of them were to her liking.
‘Will, there’s a domestic here for the Cravens. As usual, it’s resulted in a counter allegation, and both parties are in custody. You work with the husband and Zoe can interview the wife. Collate the paperwork and send it to CPS. They’re one of our regulars so you should be able to get a decision today.’