Something Missing - ONC 2024

Prologue - The Victim

'How fantastic to see you all at this live Case Report recording, my lovelies,' Erica said, blowing a kiss to the audience as she sat on a metal-framed chair on the stage beside her co host, Donna. 'We're here, of course, for our first ever live show at the Crime Convention - and we've got an amazing live show for you tonight - telling a story of a sensational case you've all been waiting for. A tale of greed, madness and twisted obsession.'

The audience of true crime fans clapped in eager anticipation as the spotlights turned on the presenters. Erica looked at the rows of fans and smiled. Most of them women, but there were a few men - she always wondered about those.

'And how appropriate that we present this case today?' Donna grinned. Erica grinned back. 'Erica, did you know that today is the anniversary of the day on which Javier Castella killed his first bull?'

'No, I did not!' Erica said. Of course she did. They had practiced this talk extensively.

'Yes, the 14th of February. It's also the day on which he killed his 1500th bull.' Donna smiled. She had been typecast as knowing these irrelevant facts. 'And it is also the day on which Javier Castella and Eloise Skerrett began their affair. A fateful decision, which would ultimately cost him his life.'

'Yes, prepare yourselves, because tonight, we present the violent life and even more violent death of Spain’s most notorious drug dealer of recent times. It is of course, the story of Javier Castella,' Erica grinned to wild applause. She settled back in her seat, ignoring the nagging anxiety in the back of her mind, and prepared to put on a good show.

*

'How was the show?' Erica's boyfriend Wayne had texted her. 'Hope it was worth missing Valentine's Day for.' Why was he so vexed about that, Erica wondered? He had never cared much about Valentine's Day before. Maybe she was reading too much into it. Being paranoid. It wasn't the first time. Besides, the show had been scheduled for months. He was away on business too; they'd promised each other a Valentine's Day celebration when they were back.

'It went well,' Erica replied. 'I'm missing you.' From time to time, Erica checked her messages as she stood in the long, slow moving queue for the hotel's bar, which mostly consisted of her fans. Wayne did not reply.

'Erica?' said a voice behind her. Her stomach squirmed as she recognised the tall, thin man in jeans and a t shirt.

'Oh,' she said. 'Hey, Jon.'

'It's been a while,' Jon said. 'How are you? I really enjoyed your show.'

'Thanks. Yeah, I'm good,' Erica said, feeling the familiar pang when she looked into his eyes. The pang that made her wish things hadn't gone so wrong.

'Are you here the whole week,' Jon said.

'I wish,' Erica said, keeping her voice light. 'Just until tomorrow, then I'm going.'

'I'm doing a talk tomorrow about my new book,' Jon said. 'Come along if you like.'

'The Jack the Ripper one?' Erica said. She did want to go. But she felt anxious. Spend too much time with him and who knows where it would lead. 'Yeah - that looks good. I'll try and go.'

'Yeah, that one,' Jon said. The queue inched forward. Across the room, Erica saw Donna staring at her with a look of shock and rage on her face. 'Let me get you a drink, at least.'

*

Erica and Jon chose a table in the corner. She sat across from him on a backless chair which kept her alert, rather than next to him. That would be dangerous.  Her phone vibrated and she ignored it.

'Erica Scott?' a woman said just as she was about to ask Jon about his life. She was mid forties, her hair flecked with grey.

'Yes? That's me.' 

'Your talk today was one of the most disgraceful things I've ever listened to,' she snapped. 'I totally disagree with how you characterised Eloise Skerrett. You totally stigmatised her mental illness and sensationalised the case for entertainment.'

'Stigmatised?' Erica laughed dismissively. 'She stabbed someone fifty times. That guy was a murderer himself, but of course I'm going to stigmatise her.'

'I've been writing to Eloise in prison. She is not the mad woman you depicted,' the woman snarled. 'I totally disagree with you. Castella took advantage of her at a vulnerable time. Your show played her desperate actions for cheap laughs. You disgust me.' She walked off across the crowded lobby. Erica shrugged, then started laughing.

'You can't please everyone,' Erica scoffed as she sipped her cocktail. 'So, Mr Ripperologist. Tell me what's been going on with you.'

'I have a girlfriend,' Jon said, his eyes like deep brown pools. He took a breath and gave a wry smile. 'She doesn't know. About us.'

'Probably for the best,' Erica smiled, taking a big sip from the cocktail glass. Her fingers lightly brushed Jon's. She finished the cocktail and smiled. Turning around, she saw the woman who had written to Eloise Skerrett glaring at her. The corners of Erica's mouth twitched up in a smirk.

'Well, I ought to go. Early start tomorrow,' Erica said. Spending any more time with Jon was dangerous, he had a way of getting under her skin. She stood up.

'Maybe see you tomorrow,' Jon said.

'Maybe.' Erica smiled and put her glass down. She walked out of the hotel bar and into the lift. Music from the 'criminally good disco' floated into her ears. Before stepping into the lift she turned around to give Jon another smile. He had gone. Her heart sank when she saw who was sitting in the place they'd just occupied. She forced herself to turn away, feeling both irritated and sick.

She leaned back in the lift until it stopped on the fourth floor, and walked down the warren of passages towards the hotel room. Then she pushed open her door, and  placed her key card on the bedside table. She had a busy day tomorrow. Jon's talk - as much as it was a bad idea, of course she'd end up going. Then another live podcast with Donna. And then the long drive home.

She got ready for bed and then picked up the crime thriller she was reading. The author was there. There was plenty of time to catch up with her in the morning. After half an hour, she turned the light out.

*

What had woken her up? Erica couldn't tell. She had the feeling, somehow, that something was different. She tensed and tried to go back to sleep, ignoring the sounds of music and chatter that wafted distantly. Despite the grim cases she researched, usually she slept very well. Few things woke her up. She put her head back on the pillow but couldn't settle.

She turned on the light by her bed - and gasped.

One thing was for sure. Something had to be missing from this room.

Stolen from the room?

Her key card. Her handbag. Neither was where she'd put them. She looked around. Maybe on the bed? Or on the floor? But they were nowhere to be seen - and with a jolt, she remembered her door had been left on the latch. She stood up and walked to the bathroom. Perhaps she'd put them there.

Another faint noise disturbed her. She couldn't tell what it was, only that she heard it. The items were nowhere to be seen. And when she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she saw a figure standing behind her in the doorway.

'What are you -' Erica choked out. But she knew. There could be only one reason. She knew this was the last person she'd ever see, before everything went black.