Chasing Shadows Malevolence

Chasing Shadows

Malevolence

B T Coll

Table of Contents

Author’s Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Epilogue

Authors Note

The Watson Files: Malevolence is a work of fiction. Names, character and incidents are entirely fictitious.

Copyright © B T Coll

Smashwords Edition

All Rights Reserved

Chapter 1

Exhausted and with a definite hangover, Alice Morrison made herself another coffee, hoping that somehow the caffeine would soon kick in and she would be able to drag herself off to work. The first cup hadn’t quite done the job and she was as tired now as when she first rolled out of bed. She knew that she really shouldn’t have stayed out so long with her friends but she hadn’t seen them for such a long time. Two or three drinks quickly increased to many more. Unable to remember what time she stumbled home; she knew it must have been in the early hours of the morning. It had been great to catch up with her friends and they had made her laugh but the hangover that she was now suffering made her wonder if it was all worth it. She hadn’t been much of a drinker but over the last few months she knew herself, that she was drinking far too much alcohol for her own good.

Standing in the kitchen, propping herself up against the sink, she sipped the last of her coffee and watched as her white Persian cat, Oscar, walked over to his food bowl, sniff at his food and eat two mouthfuls before walking away again. He hadn’t been eating too well for the last few days and she made a mental note to contact the vet for an appointment to get him checked out. She closed her eyes and sighed. That was all she needed a vet bill to add to the already overdue bills that were now sitting in a pile on her coffee table. Well they would all have to wait as pay day was not for another week.

Rummaging through the kitchen cabinet she found some painkillers and quickly swallowed two of the capsules before walking into the living room and throwing herself onto the sofa. She was exhausted and not just because she was out with her friends the night before. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for months now and was very tempted to jump back into bed and pull the duvet over her head. Glancing at the clock on the fireplace she let out another sigh, when she realised that she would once again be late for work and pondered on whether or not to call in sick.

The thought of jumping back into bed was more than a little appealing but the idea was quickly dismissed as she knew her manager would come down on her like a ton of bricks. She had been late far too often over the last few months and had more sick days than everyone else in the office. Her job was on the line; her manager seemed delighted in informing her of this when she had returned from her last sick leave little over two weeks before. Having already had the statutory verbal and written warnings, she knew she had to somehow find the energy to drag herself off to work otherwise she would have no work to go to. After all, the bills wouldn’t pay themselves or magically disappear.

Every muscle in her body was exhausted; her head was pounding and she knew it would take something extraordinary to get her to move. This extraordinary event came in the shape of her cat, that jumped up on her knee and began throwing up the food that he had just eaten all over her lap. She let out a scream of shock and horror and the cat immediately jumped down and ran into the kitchen still retching. My God! she exclaimed jumping from the sofa and running into the kitchen after him. What the hell is wrong with you? she screamed as she bent down to have a closer look at him. The cat purred as if nothing had happened but she knew instinctively that something was wrong with him. Purring or not he had to go to the vet to get checked. She would need to make an appointment as soon as possible and would have to find the money from somewhere to pay the bill.

Rushing into the shower she cursed as she knew that she would definitely be late for work now. As the warm water sprayed over her body she suddenly felt alive again and not the shell of a human being who had the weight of the world on her shoulders. When had everything started to go wrong in her life? She knew the answer to that very question. In fact, she could pin it down to the very day. The day when her fiancée Peter had walked out on her, without any explanation or any kind of warning. In the days leading up to him leaving she knew something was wrong but put it down to pre-wedding nerves on his part. They had been together for over four years before a wedding date was set and they had even discussed finding somewhere with a garden so they could start a family.

So, returning home from work one day, to find that all his clothes and personal possessions were gone, came as a complete shock to her system. A text a few days later, informed her that he had changed his mind about the wedding and was moving to London to start a new life. The next few weeks were a complete blur but somewhere in the back of her mind she remembers calling everyone she could think of to try to find some semblance of an explanation. Didn’t she deserve that after all the years they had been together? No-one had heard from him and they all seemed to be as shocked as she was about the situation.

Dressing for work, she heard the familiar thumping of loud music coming from the flat directly above. Her sleep had been broken every night with the noise coming from her upstairs neighbours. The music blared well into the early hours of the morning and she wondered how long she could put up with it before blowing a gasket and breaking their necks. It was just three months since they had moved in and to this day she had never set eyes on them. All she knew is that they liked to party and their choice in music was what she would call an acquired taste. Trance music should be outlawed in the home and only allowed at nightclubs and even then, so far away that she wouldn’t be able to hear it.

Apart from the loud music from upstairs, that seemed to filter through every room in her flat, she had been experiencing nuisance telephone calls. On answering she was certain she could hear breathing but no one ever answered. Could it be Peter her ex-fiancée, too embarrassed to speak to her but wanting to make contact? One night, when the telephone rang she had even asked if it was him but still no-one replied and feeling that there must be something wrong with her telephone line reported it to Horizon, her telephone supplier, who promised an immediate investigation. A few days later they informed her that her telephone line was working perfectly and could only suggest that she changed her telephone number. She went one better than that and cancelled her contract choosing to get rid of her landline and use her mobile phone instead. After all she didn’t hand her mobile number out to anyone but her closest friends.

After dressing she applied a little mascara and some face powder and lipstick before rushing out to the hall for her coat. As she buttoned it up she gave a final glance into the hall mirror and was horrified to find dark circles under her eyes. Sighing she rushed off to her bedroom, returning seconds later with her face powder and attempted to conceal the evidence of her lack of sleep. Brushing her long red hair, which seemed to curl up at the ends, she gave a last look into the mirror before shrugging her shoulders resigned to the fact that she looked the worse for wear. These last few months had taken their toll on her and she hoped upon hope that her life would change for the better soon.

Opening the front door, she glimpsed her neighbor, Mr Smith, coming up the stairs and quickly retreated back inside. She would wait until he was indoors before making a dash downstairs to her car. Standing behind the closed door listening for the familiar slamming of his front door she chastised herself for being so cowardly. After their confrontation, a few nights ago she had managed to avoid him but had not yet ridden herself of the embarrassment and pure mortification that engulfed her whenever she glimpsed him in the distance. She could feel her cheeks glowing and her heart palpitating faster with the sketchy memory of their last encounter. On that night, she had returned from work exhausted and unable to watch television due to her neighbours loud and annoying trance music, she had opened a bottle of red wine. Before she knew it, the bottle was empty and she had somehow staggered off to bed. Sometime later she was abruptly woken with frantic banging on her front door. She had tried through her drunken sleep to ignore the noise but when Mr Smith started screaming and cursing through her letterbox, she knew she had to drag herself out of bed. She had opened the door and poked her head round only to be confronted with her irate neighbour screaming that her car alarm had been screeching for over an hour. Will you turn that bloody noise off. he demanded glaring at her. Are you sure it’s my car? she had asked, rubbing her tired eyes. Of course, it’s your bloody car! Now turn it off. How the hell is anyone supposed to sleep in this bloody place? If it’s not those idiots upstairs its bloody car alarms. I tell you this. I’m not putting up with all this noise. No way. Just you wait things will change around here. he practically screamed at her.

I’ll turn it off now. She grabbed her car keys from the table in the hall and was half out the front door when Mr Smith stopped her. He looked her up and down before saying the unforgettable and most embarrassing words that she had ever heard. Don’t you think you should put some clothes on before you go out? You have a great body young lady but this is a respectable area. At that moment, she was sure her heart had stopped beating. She remembered opening her mouth to respond but looking down at her own naked flesh left her dumbstruck. Give me your keys and I’ll turn the alarm off. Mr Smith put his hand out and she automatically dropped the keys into his outstretched hand. He turned to leave but hesitated before facing her again and telling her maybe it would be a good idea if she went back to her bed. The old man gave her a wink before skipping down the stairs and she slammed the door shut before running screaming into her bedroom.

Looking around for her pyjamas, she found them lying crumpled on the floor and vaguely remembered taking them off because she was too hot. This was a living nightmare. How could she face him again? She had been standing talking to old Mr Smith and had been completely and utterly naked. Pulling on her pyjamas, she jumped into bed and pulled the duvet over her head. Maybe this was all just a dream, a nightmare her imagination running mad, she thought but when she heard the rattle of her car keys being pushed through her letterbox, she knew this was no nightmare but was most definitely real. Oscar, that had been sleeping peacefully in