City of Magic: The Complete Series Helen Harper (fox in socks read aloud TXT) 📖

said. ‘We already know that to drink that much blood from her would have taken hours. If she didn’t start fighting until she knew she was dying, the alarm wouldn’t have gone off until it was already too late. When I was downstairs having a jam sandwich.’ I tried not to think too hard about having strawberry jam smeared across my face while Philip the vampire had Valerie’s blood smeared across his.

‘She wouldn’t have invited a vampire in to drink from her.’

I grimaced. ‘She might have if someone else persuaded her to.’

‘Who would do something like that?’

‘I’m working on it.’ I folded my arms. ‘Let me see her room.’

Timmons sighed. ‘Fine. You know where it is.’

I flashed him a quick smile of thanks and darted through the door and up the stairs. I was onto something. I just knew it.

Valerie’s room remained untouched. There was an indentation on the mattress indicating where her body had lain, and a few spots and smears of blood. Other than that, you’d have been forgiven for thinking she’d merely popped out. I ignored the bed and strode to the desk, flipping through various bits of paper. There were all sorts of scribbles, drawings and gambling-related notes, mostly to do with poker plays which I assumed she’d been trying out. I resisted the urge to focus on them too closely. I wasn’t looking for tips – not for cards, anyway.

I’d started on the drawers when Anna appeared in the open doorway. ‘What’s going on, Charley?’

I looked up from the mess I was making. ‘Thank you for coming.’

She walked in. ‘You know I always would. Have you thought of something? Or found something?’

‘Not yet, but I think I’m onto something. Was there anything in Valerie’s diary about going for counselling?’

‘Counselling?’ Anna pursed her lips. ‘Not that I recall.’

‘What about hypnotism?’ I started rifling through the first drawer again. There had to be something there. There had to be proof somewhere.

She wrinkled her nose. ‘No. Charley…’

I let out a high-pitched squeak.

‘What is it?’

I pulled out the grubby piece of paper and held it aloft. ‘This,’ I said. ‘This is it.’

Anna squinted. ‘I don’t get it.’

I jabbed at the paper. ‘This picture. The outline of a man with a swirl where his brain should be. Philip was using the same picture as a bookmark. Craig Featherstone had the same leaflet amongst his belongings. I’ll bet my last penny that Maggie does too. This is what links them together.’ I waved the paper with its neat doodle and spidery handwriting. ‘This is what we’ve been looking for.’

Anna took it. ‘Are you feeling vulnerable?’ she read. ‘Is the apocalypse too much for you to deal with? Are you struggling with the new city and your place in it? Then hypnotherapy could be for you.’ She raised her head, her scepticism obvious. ‘Hypnotherapy?’

‘Imagine hypnotising a reluctant vampire to drink more blood. Or,’ I said, pointing at Valerie’s empty bed, ‘hypnotising a human to allow themselves to be drunk from.’

Her brow creased. ‘But hypnotism doesn’t work like that. You can’t hypnotise someone to do something against their will. You can’t swing a pendulum in my face and tell me to go and kill, and then I go and do it. It’s not possible.’

I stood my ground. ‘It wasn’t possible before the magic,’ I said quietly. ‘But if you draw on the magic in the atmosphere to bolster what you are doing, then I bet it would work. Especially when you’re using the hypnotism to speak to someone’s inner nature and deepest desires. A vampire wants to drink blood. Werewolves don’t like vampires and some of them think they’re unnatural creatures who need to be put down.’ Anna winced. I warmed to my topic. ‘Valerie might not have liked vampires, but she did have a desperate need to be loved. She could have been persuaded to offer her blood to a vampire who would love her in turn.’

‘Craig Featherstone,’ she murmured. ‘From what I’ve been able to find out, he was ex-army.’

‘So he knew guns.’

Anna nodded. ‘And it could be argued that the ultimate goal of a soldier is to attack in order to protect.’

‘If he were hypnotised with a dose of magic for extra strength, he could be persuaded to shoot first and ask questions later.’

Anna sucked on her bottom lip. ‘So it’s plausible,’ she said finally.

‘We’re all feeling vulnerable. We’re all a bit fucked up,’ I said. ‘A therapist could gain our trust, learn our darkest desires and weakest spots and work on them for their own means. You told me that murder was all about power.’ I jabbed my finger at the leaflet. ‘Well, this is the ultimate power. Persuading others to commit crimes without lifting a finger yourself.’

‘But Charley, a therapist’s goal is to help people.’

‘I’m not saying that it’s not twisted, I’m just saying it could be true. This isn’t about jumping to conclusions, this is about the evidence we have in front of us. It fits. You know it fits.’

Her expression was sombre. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I think you’re onto something.’ She held up the paper. ‘But there’s nothing here. There aren’t any contact details. There’s no name. Whoever passed out these leaflets might have done it deliberately to maintain deniability. They would have suggested times and places verbally for the sessions to take place. Without workable computers or Google, I don’t see how we can tell who created these leaflets.’

‘The therapist made a mistake though, didn’t she? She left Maggie alive. Maybe she hypnotised Maggie into remaining as a wolf so she couldn’t talk about what happened. But she made a catastrophic error and didn’t count on a vampire’s blood being enough to turn Maggie back into her human form.’ I balled my fists. I knew Maggie had been hiding something. This had to be it.

‘She?’ Anna questioned.

I breathed in. ‘The bogles saw a woman with Craig Featherstone. It fits. This is someone who might not have the physical strength to kill someone on their