Idle Hands - PAPERBACK - DC O'Connell Book 2

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Chapter 1

Zelda pulled up to the junction and looked left and right, trying to figure out where she was, and where she was meant to go. These backroads were a nightmare to navigate.
She knew she was close, but everything looked the same.
“Well,” she said to herself, “let’s try this way,” and turned the car left, down another leafy side road that looked like it led into the back of beyond.
As she followed the road, the trees and bushes on the right-hand side gave way to a wall of wooden boards that looked like they had been erected by a construction company, and she suddenly knew she was on the right track.
She checked her mirrors. The road was quiet. She was the only one out here, so she slowed to a crawl and picked up the sheet of paper on the passenger seat to recheck the directions.
“Partway along there will be a wooden wall on your right-hand side,” she read aloud. “Awesome, found it,” she added and checked the final instructions that told her to follow the road down and to the right where she should park up and meet one of the other models.
Feeling pleased with herself, she put the sheet of paper down and accelerated along the road. She reached a right-hand bend and followed it around. Sure enough, a couple of hundred yards ahead was another parked car with someone leant up against it.
As she drew up towards the vehicle, she recognised the waiting girl. This must be Belle DuJour, the model she was scheduled to meet. The girl was tall and slim with dark hair and wore a pair of mirrored shades that hid her eyes. Zelda was certain that Belle DuJour wasn’t her real name and was simply a way to keep stalkers at bay.
She waved as Zelda pulled up.
Grabbing her bag and phone, Zelda noticed she had a missed call from her mother. She’d need to call back and find out if there was a problem. Belle was waiting for her though, so Zelda climbed out the car with a smile.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hey,” Belle replied.
“Sorry I’m late, I got totally lost back there. These roads all look the same.”
“Yeah, it’s a bit of a nightmare to find. Don’t worry, you’re in loads of time.” She offered her hand. “Isabelle,” she said.
She shook the girl's hand. “Zelda. Lovely to meet you. I’ve seen your work online. It’s beautiful stuff.”
“Thanks. I try to keep busy,” Isabelle replied. “You’ve got some nice stuff on your profile too.”
Zelda smiled. “Thanks. I don’t do as much these days though.”
Isabelle nodded. “Life getting in the way?”
“You could say that. My son takes up most of my time.”
“You’ve got a kid?”
Zelda smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Speaking of which, I need to make a quick call before we head in.”
“Go for it,” Isabelle said. “I’ll grab my stuff.”
Turning away, Zelda placed her bag on the roof of her car and tapped her phone, making the call.
“Hello mummy,” the high pitched voice on the other end of the line said. She smiled at the sound of her son, Zack.
“Hi, sweety. Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Is Nana looking after you?”
“She gave me crisps,” Zack replied.
“Crisps! Wow. Were they nice?”
“Mmmm. When are you back?”
“Soon. In a few hours. Mommy’s got to do some work first, okay?”
“Okay. Bye,” Zack said. “Here’s Nana.”
“Bye sweetheart,” Zelda said, but he was already gone.
“Hi Zelda, honey. Sorry to bother you but he was desperate to call you,” her mother said having taken the phone from Zack.
“That’s okay. I’ve only just got here.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just met up with another of the models.”
“Oh, okay. You be careful, okay?”
“I will,” Zelda replied.
“I don’t like the idea of you going into that place,” her mother said, clearly worrying about her.
“I’ll be fine mom. I’m with others. I’ve done it before.”
“Okay, well, be careful.”
“I will,” Zelda replied, rolling her eyes at her mother’s over-protectiveness, and ended the call with a brief farewell.
“Sorry about that,” Zelda said, stuffing the phone in her back pocket as she turned back to Isabelle who, frankly, looked a little bored waiting for her.
“It’s okay.”
Zelda grabbed her bag. “So, where do we go from here?”
“You’ve not been here before?”
“No. You?” Zelda asked.
“Yeah. A few times. It’s a cool place. We’re meeting the photographer inside, I think. He’s here with a few other girls already.”
“Yeah, that’s what he said to me too. Have you worked with him before?”
“No. But his work is good, and he’s worked with some girls I know. Come on, this way,” Isabelle suggested, leading the way over the grass verge towards the end of the wooden barrier. It stopped a short distance ahead and gave way to more bushes, but Zelda could see a reasonably well-trodden area of earth that led into the shadows of the foliage.
As they got nearer, she made out a hidden path that had been cleared along the wooden wall that continued in away from the road, and a little way ahead. One of the panels had been pulled apart, leaving a thin gap that they could slip through.
“I’m always nervous heading into places like this,” Zelda said as she watched Isabelle squeeze through the gap.
“You’ve shot in derelict places before though, right?” Isabelle asked, reaching back to take Zelda’s bag.
“Yeah, a few times. Been found by security once. That was a bit scary.”
“Oh yeah, where was that?”
“Fullers Earth Works,” Zelda replied, remembering the disused factory.
“In Redhill. Yeah, I know it. It’s a cool place.”
“The guard had a massive dog with him.”
“I bet. They have to deal with gypos going there to nick the metal.”
“Yeah. I get it. We weren’t hurting anything, though,” Zelda answered once she was through the gap.
“They don’t care. Come on, this way,” Isabelle said and led her though more bushes until the undergrowth gave way and a huge building loomed up ahead of them. Dark against the sky beyond, its broken windows and graffiti-covered walls standing testament to the length of time it had stood here, abandoned.
It was almost a serene, relaxing scene with the dappled sunlight streaming through the canopy of the surrounding trees, the birds tweeting and the insects buzzing amongst the overgrown nettles and plants.
The building stretched off in both directions, but Isabelle seemed to know where she was going and led the way. Walking along a rough path that had been created by people visiting the site, they moved between huge patches of stinging nettles until Isabelle took a right-hand branch and walked towards the building, into an area set back from the block. Ahead, a rotten, wooden door that had clearly once been boarded up stood open, leading into the darkened interior of the edifice.
“This was a mental asylum once, right?”
“That’s right. There’s a few in Surrey. This one, West Park, and there are others too, but I’ve only been to these two. Why, are you worried?”
“No, not really I’m just always a little nervous going into these places.”
“So, you know the law regarding trespassing?”
“Another photographer once told me that as long as you’re not breaking anything, stealing anything, or vandalising anything, and as long as you leave when asked, you’ve not broken any laws. Is that right?”
“Basically. All they can do is throw you off the site.”
“Are you sure about that?” Zelda asked.
“I’m not a lawyer, so don’t take my word as gospel, but I think that’s right.”
“Doesn’t make me feel any better about visiting places like this, though,” Zelda said.
“Just be careful and you’ll be fine,” Isabelle said with a smile. “Come on, it’s this way.”
Zelda followed Isabelle in through the open door into a corridor. Stairs to her right led up, but Isabelle walked past them and started up the hallway. It was dark down here, but not totally pitch black. Broken windows and collapsed sections of ceiling let in light and kept the place from being too dark.
Paint peeled from the walls and collected on the floor with the dirt and debris that littered the place.
Ahead, a light dangled from the ceiling while cables snaked down to the floor. Zelda felt sure these wires wouldn’t be live, but kept her distance anyway, just to be sure.
“So, the photographer said we were to meet him in the hospital wing, right? I take it you know where that is?”
“I do. It’s not far. I’ve shot in there before,” Isabelle answered her.
“Oh, okay. Good.” But Isabelle’s nonchalant attitude didn’t really alleviate the knot of worry that was building in her chest about being inside this creepy building. They passed room after room. Some were pitch dark, hiding their secrets, while others had light streaming into them, revealing their contents. She couldn’t help but think of the patients who had lived and died here. How insane had they been, and what tortures and indignities had they been subject to during their time here?
The thoughts cast a pall over her mind as she followed Isabelle through the building, picking her way over the rubbish that littered the floor.
Turning right, they walked up another short corridor.
“We’ll cut through the theatre,” Isabelle said and walked through a door on their left. Zelda followed, wondering what Isabelle meant, only to find herself in a vast room with a stage at one end. The dirty velvet curtains fell limply to the stage, their colour muddied from years of disuse and exposure to the elements.
More graffiti covered the walls, including the leering face of an evil clown that Zelda found more than a little unsettling. She kept well away from the holes in the wooden floor and followed on towards the far corner of the room.
Zelda jumped when a pigeon launched itself from its perch on one side of the hall and swooped past her, flapping its wings noisily as it made a valiant attempt to fly through the hole in the ceiling. Zelda yelped as she ducked, trying to keep away from the thing.
Isabelle squeaked and ran the last few steps to the far door with Zelda following on behind, before they both stopped in the doorway, panting as adrenaline pumped.
“What was that?” Isabelle asked.
Zelda put her hands on her knees and took a few breaths. “Just a damn bird. Sorry if I scared you.”
“Shit. Don’t do that. I thought… I don’t know what I thought, but don’t do that in here, okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. I’m just a little jumpy.”
“That’s okay. It’s not far now.”
“Good,” Zelda replied as they set off again along another corridor. At a four-way junction, Isabelle turned left. Zelda looked ahead and paused at the intersection, momentarily intrigued by the dark hallway ahead. Partway up, a door let light into the corridor where a single, rusty wheelchair sat empty and disused.
As she stared up the hallway, something moved above her and Zelda jumped again, ducking away from whatever was up there. She scampered up the hall a few steps before looking back to see another pigeon stood in the spot she’d just left, looking at her curiously with a sideways jerky head movement.
“You little git,” Zelda cursed at the winged terror before she sighed and walked away, following Isabelle through the dilapidated building once more. Reaching a set of wooden doors that looked like they might collapse at any moment, they turned right and entered a long room with the remains of metal-framed beds on either side of them. Old mattresses and soiled sheets lay scatted around the room, but Isabelle kept going.
“It’s just up ahead, through here,” she said and led the way. Zelda followed her out into another corridor, and along a little further. “Here we are, it’s this room,” she said, pointing ahead. Isabelle stepped up to the doorway and then stopped, her head tilted in confusion as she stared into the room.
Wondering what she’d seen, Zelda stepped up beside her and looked in as well.
The room was relatively empty with just a table and the usual detritus all over the floor, but in the middle of it the other two models that Zelda knew had been booked for the shoot, sat in a pair of chairs. Both were bound at the wrists and ankles, gagged, and staring at them with pleading eyes. They both carried cuts and grazes on their exposed skin and began making muffled screams on seeing Zelda and Isabelle.
Isabelle seemed to be frozen in shock. Zelda tried to process what she was seeing, glancing around and then back at the two models. Was this set up for a shoot? Were the girls pretending to be captives or something? She’d seen stranger things done on shoots before, but something about this didn’t sit right with her.
It was too real.
The girls looked terrified and in pain. Then, without thinking, Zelda rushed forward. She wanted to help them. She wanted to free them from their binds. No one else was in the room from what she could see. Was the photographer being held captive as well? Had they happened upon some psycho while exploring the asylum?
As she strode towards the girls, both suddenly looked behind her, their protests intensifying. Isabelle screamed.
Zelda turned to see a man dragging Isabelle by the hair into the room. He was carrying something in his other hand and swung it at her.
Pain lanced through her skull as he struck her. The floor rushed up to meet her, and her head hit it hard. As her vision faded to black, the man struck Isabelle as well, and she dropped to the floor a short distance away.
Isabelle reached out to Zelda, her hand extended. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice straining as the man kicked her in the face.
Sweet oblivion took her then, and Zelda knew no more.