Opening Chapters: The Thistlewood Curse

A paranormal investigator is questioned by police following the unusual accidental death of a fraudulent, murderous businessman.

In this brief series, I’m showcasing the first chapters of some of my novels. First up, here’s the opener for supernatural mystery thriller The Thistlewood Curse.

In spite of the peculiar circumstances surrounding the death of Jacob Price, Detective Sergeant Laura Buchan had all but convinced herself there was no foul play. That he died as the result of a bizarre accident had become the accepted version of events for her and most of her colleagues. Only the senior investigating officer, Detective Inspector Ethan Roland, had any further inkling that Price’s demise was in any way suspicious.

Laura kept pinching the bridge of her nose in a nervous reflex. The questioning of her lifelong friend and occasional colleague Lawrence Crane should have been mere formality; an interview that would establish beyond all doubt that he had no involvement in Price’s death. But Roland kept treating him like a criminal. No doubt he considered his actions thoroughness, but Laura thought he was just being rude. Through the two-way mirror, Laura watched as Roland continued to question Crane in the interview room.

‘Are you glad he’s dead?’

Lawrence Crane leaned forward and stared for a moment at the mirror. His eyes met Laura’s and although he could not see her, she experienced the familiar sensation of discomfort, as though she were standing before him naked. His gaze seemed darker and colder than usual, no doubt because he didn’t suffer fools gladly, and Ethan continued to behave like one.

Crane returned his piercing, steel blue stare to the Detective Inspector sitting before him. Although his back was turned, Laura could imagine the dogged, determined expression on Ethan Roland’s face. He had a stocky, bulldog build that intimidated most people he questioned. But Lawrence Crane was not most people. He replied with an icy calm.

‘Obviously, I’m glad he’s dead.’

‘Obviously? Seems a little out of character for you. Normally you’re all cold detachment, but this case… seems to have wound you up a bit.’

‘Why don’t we drop this charade, Roland? You know what he did as well as I do. If you were honest, you would admit that you also are pleased this world has seen the last of Jacob Price. He was an evil man.’

‘I thought you didn’t believe in evil?’

‘In the Biblical sense, no. But I do believe in trying to make the world a more agreeable and fair place to live. Jacob Price ruined thousands of lives through his financial misdeeds. He was also responsible for murdering his ex-wife and making it look like an accident. The fact that you were so imbecilic in your contamination of evidence at the trial meant he walked free.’

‘That I admit was unfortunate.’

‘Unfortunate doesn’t begin to cover it. Still, as you say, it would seem the Fates have determined that Jacob Price pay for his crimes.’

Roland nodded slowly. ‘A gruesome and unusual accident, to say the least.’

‘But nonetheless an accident.’

‘So how do you account for Price’s final words?’

Crane sighed. ‘How should I know? Perhaps he didn’t like me. Perhaps he wanted a measure of revenge by trying to frame me for his death.’

‘I want to believe that, but the problem is I’ve heard the recording of Price’s emergency call. Even if he was mistaken, that man was genuinely convinced he could see you in his kitchen as he lay there dying. Why was that?’

Crane shrugged. ‘A hallucination?’

‘But why was he convinced you had killed him? His exact words on the recording are: It was Crane. Lawrence Crane murdered me.’

‘For God’s sake Roland, I wasn’t there.’

‘Yes, I’m aware of your alibi. This girl, what’s her name, Amanda Mendelson? She was with you the whole night?’

‘Correct.’

‘But she would have been asleep some of the time, surely?’

Laura couldn’t help smiling. She knew Crane well enough to know sleeping would have occupied very little of his and Amanda’s time on the night in question.

‘What exactly are you suggesting Roland? That I waited until Amanda was asleep then nipped out to Jacob Price’s house intending to break in and murder him?’

Roland stared impassively at Crane, as though willing him to continue.

‘Alright,’ said Crane. ‘Assume for one moment that I sneaked out of bed so that Amanda didn’t notice, with the intention of murdering Price. Assume I successfully made it past the press that were camped outside his house, and broke in without leaving any trace of a break-in, or any DNA for that matter. Why the hell would I then choose to kill him by turning the gas from the cooker on, hoping he would come down from his bedroom to investigate, and hoping that he would switch the kitchen light on, causing a possible but highly improbable ignition of the escaping gas? Furthermore, how could I possibly escape such an explosion unscathed?’

‘Perhaps to make the punishment fit the crime?’ Roland suggested.

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘Well, you tell me. You’re the one with magic powers.’

Laura bit her lip. She could see the irritation in Crane’s face and wondered whether he would lose his temper. With her, he was always polite, charming, and caring to a fault, but on occasion, she had witnessed him completely lose it with others. Such displays could be quite alarming.

However, Crane forced a smile, pushing his hands through his dark, thick hair. He then stood, looming over Roland somewhat menacingly making full use of his six-foot height.

‘Not your usual line of questioning… I thought you weren’t a believer, Inspector Roland.’

‘I wasn’t, but then I can’t go on ignoring mounting evidence. Eventually, I’m forced to ask difficult questions. If you don’t possess the unusual power that your friend Detective Sergeant Buchan claims you have, how is it that you were able to provide information that helped her uncover the truth behind what would otherwise have remained baffling and unsolved cases?’

Crane glared at Roland. ‘Perhaps I don’t help her at all. Perhaps she simply keeps me around for my charming personality. In fact, perhaps she is a much better detective than you are Roland. Perhaps she is the one who deserves all the credit that you claim as your own.’

Laura couldn’t help smiling at the compliment.

‘Let’s go over this again,’ said Roland. ‘The night Jacob Price was killed, you claim you were in bed with Amanda Mendelson the entire time.’

Crane didn’t answer immediately. He rubbed his eyes.

‘Tired?’

Crane nodded. He had actually fallen asleep earlier that afternoon, as he sat in the interview room waiting for Roland to question him.

‘Were you in bed with Amanda Mendelson all night on the night Jacob Price was killed?’ Roland repeated.

‘That is correct,’ said Crane.

‘Did you leave the bedroom at any point?’

‘No.’

‘Did your spirit leave the bedroom at any point?’

Crane paused before answering; his eyes drifting across the drab, functional interview room as though the magnolia paint on the walls was of greater interest than the questions. Eventually, he returned his gaze to Roland, and replied without blinking.

‘I did not leave my body at any point last night.’

‘You didn’t astral project at all?’

‘No. Why would I?’

Roland shrugged. ‘You’re the greatest authority on the subject I’ve ever known. With your skills, we’ve managed to locate criminals and evidence, as well as overhear conversations as effectively as any official surveillance.’

‘Only when Randolph permits it.’

‘Ah yes, your almighty spirit guide.’

The sarcasm didn’t appear to rile Crane, who was more than used to sceptics. But Laura felt annoyed with Roland, and found his entire line of questioning uncharacteristically unprofessional. He had experienced the benefit of Crane’s unusual abilities. Why take such cheap shots now? Was he trying to anger him into confessing to killing someone who had obviously died in an accident?

‘What is your point Inspector Roland?’

‘My point, Lawrence Crane, is given that you are so into all this out-of-body-experience stuff, is it not probable that you astrally project yourself during the night?’

‘Well, technically I did. So did you.’

Roland looked taken aback. ‘Did I?’

‘Everyone astrally projects whilst asleep. The spirit normally only hovers a little distance from the body though, so it hardly counts in the sense that you mean.’

‘Yes, well I can assure you I don’t astral project.’

‘There’s nothing to worry about Roland. Your silver cord keeps you attached to your body no matter how far you go.’

Roland didn’t attempt to keep sarcasm from his tone. ‘That’s interesting. So I could just float off as far as I like?’

‘As far as you like.’

‘No danger of this silver cord thing that attaches you to your body snapping?’

‘None whatsoever.’

‘What would happen if it did?’

‘Then you would die. But as I said, there is no danger.’

‘Really? I’ve been reading up on this astral projection floatiness. You insist there is no danger of having this silver cord cut, but some of your fellow loonies disagree. They say there are all kinds of nasty demon things in the astral world.’

‘The astral planes do contain various spirit entities, true. Some of them are negative, some positive. The demons are obviously negative, but they are very low-energy creatures and it is easy to avoid them by taking a few basic precautions.’

‘Such as?’

‘Calling on the good spirits, angels, Jesus, or even God to protect you. If you really want extra protection you can leave small piles of earth around your body, but the truth is it is fear itself that can create problems during projection. You have to be completely freed from fear, and the best way to do that, once you have relaxed your mind, is to summon a spirit guide.’

‘Like this Randolph character?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Alright, so let’s say for argument’s sake you’ve had a nice evening with Amanda Mendelson. After going to bed and whatever activities follow, she falls asleep. You then do whatever it is you do — meditate, relax, or whatnot — to astrally project your spirit out of your body and away to Jacob Price’s house.’

‘Are you suggesting I somehow murdered Jacob Price whilst astral projecting?’

‘Did you?’

‘It isn’t possible to do things like that in the astral plane.’

‘Ah, that’s not what I’ve read. As I say, I’ve been doing some research. Apparently, it is possible to interact with the physical world whilst astrally projecting.’

‘Then you’re badly informed. It isn’t possible, in the same way it isn’t possible to interact with the astral world on the physical plane.’

‘Well, according to my research, neither of those statements is true. Oh, it is very, very difficult to affect the physical world whilst floating around as a spirit, but it is possible. Though of course, it would take a highly skilled person like yourself. As for affecting the astral world from the physical, I think your average psychic or exorcist would disagree.’

Crane laughed. ‘I assume your so-called research amounts to little more than reading a few misleading articles on the internet. Did you actually see a demonstration of what you are suggesting? Or decide to give it a go yourself?’

‘I’m asking you, in your professional capacity as a police consultant: is there any truth to what I have read? Is it possible to affect the physical world from the astral plane?’

Crane sighed. ‘I will concede that it might be possible, with a great deal of difficulty, to affect the physical world from the astral but to a very, very limited degree. For example, it is possible to visit another person whilst projecting, and later they will tell you they sensed your presence. Or perhaps they inexplicably thought of you. But moving physical objects is exceptionally tricky because the physical world exists on a completely different frequency.’

‘Yes, I’m aware of all that mind-bending stuff about vibrations, frequencies, other dimensions, and so on,’ said Roland. ‘I’m no physicist Crane, but I’ve read enough science fiction to understand the theoretical principles involved.’

‘So you think I murdered Jacob Crane from the astral plane?’

Roland looked away for a moment. Laura could see his embarrassment since astral projection was hardly a usual topic for official police interviews. Her senior colleague was an ardent rationalist, and very clearly uncomfortable with what he seemed to be reluctantly conceding: That there was something to this astral projection nonsense. He seemed to be struggling with some kind of internal debate, about whether he really wanted to make an accusation that to most people would sound completely outrageous. Eventually, Roland compromised, opting for a more neutral response, yet still one that contained an inherent accusation.

‘I don’t believe in coincidences. For one thing, your words to Jacob Price were eerily prophetic. You said them in this very room, when we interviewed him. You got surprisingly aggressive. Want to hear what you said?’

Without waiting for a reply, Roland produced a small dictaphone from his pocket and pressed play. An exchange between Crane and Price replayed through the tinny speaker.

Your wife didn’t die straight away, did she?

I don’t like to think about it.

She had just enough presence of mind left to call 999 whilst she lay on the kitchen floor in absolute agony, covered in horrific burns. She might have been dead by the time the ambulance crew got there, but how long do you think she would have suffered? How many minutes?

I don’t know.

Do you know what it feels like to burn to death?

No.

But you can imagine?

I can imagine, yes.

Perhaps one day you’ll do more than imagine. Perhaps one day you will find out.

If Roland had hoped playing the conversation would unsettle Crane, it seemed to have the opposite effect. Crane merely nodded with a certain satisfaction. If anything he felt pleased to have been proved correct in his prediction.

‘In addition to your scarily accurate prophecy,’ Roland continued, ‘for Jacob Price to meet his end in precisely the same way as his ex-wife seems suspicious to say the least — especially as we established the previous gas explosion that killed Penny Rogers was not an accident. Thanks to your endeavours, I might add.’

‘That’s not what the judge thought,’ Crane muttered. ‘At any rate, we’ve established you don’t believe in coincidences, even when there really is no other explanation. You have absolutely no evidence linking me to Price’s death other than your own paranoid suspicions. It’s funny really, as you seem reluctant to admit to them, as it means conceding a belief in a spirit world. At any rate, I am not responsible for the death of Jacob Price, and you have absolutely no evidence to that effect. Therefore you cannot keep me here any longer.’

Roland eyed Crane coldly. ‘There are some things I simply don’t understand, Lawrence Crane. I don’t believe in a spirit world or any of your hocus pocus, but on the other hand years of experience have taught me to trust my hunches. I don’t know how you did it, but I know you took the law into your own hands and murdered Jacob Price, because you thought he deserved to die. You might be able to pull the wool over Sergeant Buchan’s eyes, but I am fully convinced of your guilt.’

Laura felt her stomach churn. How dare Roland speak that way! The accusation was outrageous and ludicrous. She almost stormed into the interview room and demanded Crane’s release. But she didn’t need to. Roland nodded calmly and indicated the door.

‘Now you can go.’

The Thistlewood Curse is available via the usual outlets (Amazon, Smashwords, and so on). You can read my companion piece article, about my process for writing opening chapters, here.

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