Shape of Snakes

'And because of that you think cats got in?'

'Yes.'

'Didn't you say the rat catcher said it wasn't a problem because a boot scraper was wedged over the hole?'

'Yes.'

'Then how did they get in?'

'I think someone carried them down the alleyway at the back of our house, pushed them in and covered the hole afterward.'

She gave a snort of incredulity. 'That's too absurd. The rat catcher would have heard them. They'd have been yowling their heads off. And why cats? Why not dogs? You said it was a Jack Russell that went into your crawl space in Sydney.'

'Because Annie's house was full of cats.'

'Now you really are being ridiculous! The woman had been dead for weeks by that time. They can't possibly have been hers.'

'I'm not suggesting they were,' I said, 'just that cats are more likely than dogs in the circumstances. My guess is they were pushed in under our floorboards to die because there was no convenient cat flap in our back door. If there had been, I think I'd have found them dying in my kitchen. I called out the gas board twice because 1 thought I could smell gas, but each time they said there was nothing wrong. One of the men said it smelled like a dead mouse, but I said it couldn't be because we didn't have any.'

I could feel the weight of her disbelief bearing down on my bent head. 'You'd have known if something had died. The smell of death is terrible.'

'Only when it's warm. This happened in winter-a particularly cold winter-and we had fitted carpets over all the floors.'

'But-' She broke off to marshal her thoughts. 'Why didn't you hear them? Tomcats make a terrible noise when they yowl.'

'It depends what was done to them first.' I shook my head. 'In any case, I think they must have died of hypothermia very quickly.'

Another pause. 'What on earth could be done to a cat to stop it crying?'

I hunched my shoulders as I thought of the chilling research I'd done on the subject. 'At a guess, they had superglue pumped into their mouths and eyes and Elastoplast wrapped tightly 'round their faces so they couldn't see, eat, drink or cry. Then they were pushed under our house to try to scratch their way out with the only things left to them ... their claws.'

My mother drew a disgusted breath, although whether her disgust was leveled at me for making the suggestion or at the suggestion itself, I couldn't tell. 'What sort of people would do a thing like that?'

I reached into my pocket for a copy of the police report describing the entry into Annie's house the day after her death and passed it across to her. 'The same people who tortured cats for Annie's benefit,' I said. 'The only difference is, they pushed the wretched creatures through her cat flap so she could see what was happening to them.'

She glanced at the report but didn't read it. 'Why? What was the point?'

'Any reason you like. Sometimes I think it was done to cause fear, other times I think it was done for pleasure.' I turned my face to the wind. 'In a perverted sort of way, I ought to feel flattered. I think the assumption was I was cleverer than Annie and could work out for myself that animals were dying in dreadful agony under my house. And the fact that I wasn't ... and didn't ... must have been a disappointment.'

If my mother asked me why once, she asked it a hundred times on our journey home. Why hadn't Annie gone to the police? Why hadn't Annie phoned the RSPCA? Why would anyone feel confident about tormenting me in the same way they'd tormented Annie? Why weren't they afraid I'd go to the police? Why hadn't I gone to the police? Why would anyone want to reinforce my suspicions about Annie's death? Why risk getting Sam involved? Why risk getting the rat catcher involved? Why hadn't I questioned the RSPCA findings at the inquest? Why...? Why...? Why...?

Was she finally beginning to understand how betrayed I'd felt when she hadn't believed me at the time? Or was I being cynical in my absolute conviction that it was only her recognition of my father's tireless support of me that had shamed her into asking any questions at all?

In any case, I had few answers for her, other than to say no one believes a madwoman. 'But why assume there was a logical thought process at work,' I asked her finally, 'when whoever tortured the cats was clearly unbalanced?' It was done for the pleasure of inflicting pain, not because it was possible to predict how Mad Annie or I would react to having mutilated animals left on our doorsteps.

Family correspondence-dated 1999

CURRAN HOUSE

Whitehay Road

Torquay

Devon

Monday

Darling,

Just a quick note to thank you and Sam for the weekend. It was good to see the boys again, although I do think you should persuade them to have their hair cut. Your father and I both liked the house, despite its dilapidation, and feel it would be sensible to make an offer for it. Sam is clearly at a loose end at the moment (country life doesn't really suit him, does it?) and a renovation project would keep him occupied. You can always sell it afterward if and when he manages to find a job.

With regard to what we talked about yesterday: I have since had a word with our local RSPCA