Before It's Too Late (32 page)

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Authors: Jane Isaac

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Suspense, #Crime Fiction

BOOK: Before It's Too Late
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“Thanks, Dave. I’ll get back to you.” He rang off and raced through to the incident room. All eyes looked up as he entered. “Where’s Lonny Cheung?” he asked.

Keane shook his head. “Still can’t locate him.”

He grasped the edge of the desk, trying to catch his breath. “What about Min?”

“She left the hospital and went straight home. There’s an officer with her.”

Keane took one look at the expression on Jackman’s face, drew out his mobile and dialled urgently. Russell did the same. For a moment the room was silent. Until Keane lifted his phone out at an awkward angle. “Voicemail.”

Russell shook her head. “Min’s not answering either.”

At that moment, Davies rushed in holding an A4 sheet in her hand. “The artist’s impression of the van-owner,” she said.

Jackman drew it close. The man staring back at him was cleaner-cut than he’d seen him, the hair shorter, the skin slightly darker, but there was no doubt that it was Lonny Cheung.

Chapter
Fifty-Eight

I took my time in the shower. Despite an earlier one at the hospital, I still felt grubby. And there was nobody yelling at me today to cut it short. Even though all the rooms were ensuite, I’d soon learnt that hot water in the building was limited at any given time. But today, with many of the students gone home or visiting friends for the half-term holidays, I could waste as much as I wanted
.

I indulged in the jets as they sprayed my back, my chest, spiked into my scalp. I lathered up again. No amount of soap could wash away the filth of the last few days, but the heat was warm and comforting and suddenly this simple pleasure felt like one of life’s secret luxuries. I even ignored the plumbing as it knocked and cranked in the background. It never ceased to amaze me how often it broke down in these purpose-built apartments
.

When I’d woken up in hospital, I’d been surrounded by a chasm of white. I thought I’d died, the baby had died. People moved in and out of the room and it all felt like a dream, like I was drifting across the ocean on a calm day in a rudderless boat
.

But later I woke up properly. My mind felt sharper than it had in days and my stomach screamed for food. I ate three bowls of cereal before a doctor came to see me to explain that I had passed out back in the field from a mixture of shock and dehydration. They’d kept me in overnight for observations. I was going to be fine. And the baby would be fine too
.

I opened my closet and pulled out some jeans and a jumper. New jeans that I’d been saving for the end of term party, jeans that had sliced another huge chunk out of my student budget. But none of that mattered now. I tugged at my bedside drawer, was just about to reach for the scissors when I stopped myself. Labels were my nemesis. From a young age they felt like newly manicured nails picking and scraping away at the skin and I begged my mother to remove them. It had become a habit. But six days trapped in a pit had the ability to cure every mild irritation. I pulled them on, embracing the feeling of the label next to my skin; it made me feel warm, safe, alive
.

The heat of the shower had a calming effect on my frayed nerves and, after wrapping a towel around my hair, I swiped my hand across the condensation on the mirror and gazed at my reflection. My eyes had brightened, the bruising on my chin from when I was climbing out of the pit had faded. Finally, the fabric of my old self was starting to show through
.

I thought about Lonny. He came to see me in hospital this morning and told me about the police rescue. He was able to walk around, his ankle already stronger. He sat next to my bed and we discussed the euphoric relief at being free
.

After the police interview, I’d phoned my parents. Listening to their voices, hearing that they were alive and well, was almost too much to bear. They were coming over, due to arrive tomorrow
.

It felt strange leaving the hospital with a policeman. Even now, he was situated outside my apartment. They had arrested a man, but were yet to charge, so the police weren’t taking any chances
.

I could barely believe that I was alive, in my own apartment, with Tom in the front room. Suddenly I realised that for the first time in almost a week I actually felt safe
.

The first sound I heard when I stepped out of the bathroom was the television. The volume was cranked up: blasts, bangs and desperate voices filled the background. A rush of happiness oozed through me. Tom was watching a movie. I could never see the appeal with the action movies, but Tom loved to watch them at high volume so that he felt the true extent of the special effects. At one time this might have irritated me, but it didn’t matter anymore
.

When I entered the lounge I was greeted with another blast and an exploding building on the flat screen in the corner. Tom had his back to me, his body hidden by the armchair he’d pulled in front of the television, one leg hanging over the side. The laces hung loose on his maroon Converse, like snakes hanging from the branch of a tree. I smiled, opened my mouth to speak, then froze. Tom didn’t wear maroon Converse. Neither did my other roommates
.

The chair whizzed around and I came face to face with Lonny
.

“Oh!” I gasped. “You startled me.” My shoulders relaxed. I scanned the room. “Where’s Tom?”

Lonny didn’t answer. As I looked back at him, I realised there was something odd about him. There was a fire in his eyes
.

I swallowed. “Lonny, what is it? What’s wrong?”

He stood slowly, his eyes still blazing, mouth shut
.

A muffled call came from the kitchenette. I moved towards it, but Lonny was quicker. He pounced across, blocked my pathway. But he wasn’t quick enough to obscure Tom and the policeman laid out on the floor, their hands bound together behind their backs, their mouths gagged. The policeman stared at me, the whites of his eyes showing, but Tom… he was out cold, his head drooping awkwardly on his chest
.

I looked back at Lonny. The blaze behind his eyes darkened menacingly. When he spoke, he sounded different. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

“Tom.” I mouthed the word but no sound came out. “What are you doing? We have to help him.”

He met my gaze. “You don’t want him.”

I glanced at Tom, willing him to move, to show some sign of life. “I don’t understand.”

A weird cackle emitted from Lonny’s mouth. A sound I’d never heard before
.

“Lonny?”

“You’ve really no idea, have you?”

“What?”

He edged forward, forcing me back. “You really didn’t guess!” His face was incredulous, as if he was pleased with himself
.

I shook my head. “This isn’t funny, Lonny.”

“It was me. The person who kidnapped you, who fooled the police, then set up my own kidnap to join you in the hole. It was all me.”

It was my turn to be incredulous. Lonny? The man I’d helped in the pit, the man I’d shared my food with, the man I’d let cuddle up to me when he was trembling with cold? My mouth suddenly felt bone-dry
.

His eyes turned soft. “I did it because I love you, Min.”

He stepped forward again. I could feel his breath on my face
.

“I couldn’t get anywhere near you. A popular girl like you would never mix with me. But after you had the chance to get to know me, got close to me… ”

“But… We tried to escape.” I stumbled over the words
.

“No, I tried. Just not that hard. The grill was unlocked the whole time. How do you think we managed to get out in the end?”

“We almost ran out of food. You were so angry.”

A malicious grin curled one side of Lonny’s mouth. “I nearly had you, didn’t I? Go on, admit it. You really started to like me. Until you came out of that hole and met him!” As he spat out those final words, the fire in his eyes was back
.

Chapter
Fifty-Nine

The moments before death were not as I expected. My life didn’t flash before me. Even as I fought against the binds he tied around my wrists and ankles, all I felt was an overwhelming wave of fear and sadness. It was almost as if the events of the last week had already sucked the life out of my fight
.

I was too young to die. Before I’d finished college and showed the world what I was made of. Before I made my parents proud
.

I watched him lift the knife and run his finger along the blade, his eyes almost mesmerised. He looked up at me
.

My limbs started to tremble. Please, make it quick. No hoods this time, no masks. We don’t need those anymore
.

He crossed the room towards me, stood right in front and angled his head. Suddenly his eyes turned soft, sad even
.

I froze as he reached down and swept his hand down the side of my cheek. He cupped my chin and lifted my face slightly. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed there. There was no sound but the soft ticks of the clock on the wall and the rattle of the bed beneath my juddering limbs
.

His gaze was soft, as if he recalled some distant warm memory. Until something inside him broke his abstraction and his face instantly turned to stone
.

Chapter
Sixty

Lonny moved back, closed the bedroom door and glanced at Min Li, trussed up like a Roman slave. He felt a pang, pulled away. Part of him couldn’t bear to see her like that. But she deserved this. She had brought it on herself.

“I remember the first moment you spoke to me,” he said. “We were visiting London. You stood in front of me in the queue for the London Eye and said, ‘The view is supposed to be brilliant from the top.’ His eyes turned soft as he recalled the memory.

“Back at the college you sat beside me in English.” He drew in a long breath. “I loved the scent of your perfume, I could smell it on the books you lent me. And those little smiles of acknowledgement when we passed in the corridor and across campus.”

Min struggled in her ties, but he ignored her, lost in his reverie.

“I tried so hard to find a way to get close to you, spent weeks tracing your uncle, working my way into his sordid life: the little man with the yellow teeth, bad breath and naff beige jacket. Only to later discover that he was estranged from his family. Then I thought up the kidnap. It seemed like a dream at first, almost like a comic-strip story.”

He snorted. “I remember your uncle’s face when I first shared the idea with him. He couldn’t wait to get his grubby little hands on the cash. He was even more excited about the second drop.” Lonny’s face turned grim. “But I was too clever for him. I sold him out to his creditors. He’d be dead before he could rat on me.”

He averted his gaze. “It was the perfect plan until you flew back into the arms of him.” Lonny glanced briefly back at the door, then turned on Min. “You let me down. Just like the others.”

He cut off as he cast his mind back. His first attempt had almost worked. The plan had been several months in the making, yet thwarted at the last moment. Ting only wanted to be friends. The sting of unrequited love had poisoned his heart. He couldn’t let her do that – draw him in and let him drop. He couldn’t allow that again.

Killing Ting had been a lot easier than he’d thought. There was none of the wild rage you read about. It had been easy to persuade her to go swimming in the sea together that afternoon, just as friends. She’d struggled initially as he’d pushed her head below the water, but he’d expected that. In fact, he rather enjoyed the warm rush. It made him feel empowered. And as her body went limp, he’d felt a sense of justice.

He shot Min a glance as another spear of rejection penetrated him and crossed the room to her bedside, knife in hand. She squirmed around on the bed, every tendon in her body quivering.

His chest was knotted with a mixture of anger and nauseating guilt at the wretched being that he’d become.

Slowly he lifted the knife and struck hard, sliding it through the flesh. The pain was excruciating. He was aware of a muffled shriek in the background, but he didn’t look up. He couldn’t. As the blood started to spurt in ripples from his wrist he changed hands and struck the other side, deeper this time.

A line of blood spurted out and splattered across the bed. He fell to his knees. Min continued to squirm in front of him, more and more urgently. He stared at her for a split second through the mist that was covering his eyes. She was so beautiful. Just like his mother. The images faded, the pain seared, then darkness descended.

Chapter
Sixty-One

As I pressed my hand to my stomach, I felt the grief and sadness rest on my shoulders. It was hard to believe that it was gone: the baby that hadn’t been planned, that had been the cause of so much consternation, so much upset. It had gone through so much in its early life. Too much, it seems, for a young life to take
.

The crisp hospital sheets scratched at my skin as I wriggled around in the bed. As much as I tried I couldn’t get comfortable. It seemed ironic that forty-eight hours ago I was stuck in the pit, filthy and hungry, with only a concrete floor and a couple of blankets. Now I was showered and clean, I’d eaten healthy food and had the luxury of a real bed with pillows and blankets to enjoy, yet I felt no comfort from it. The doctor said it was the shock and trauma that brought it on
.

When the inspector came to see me this morning he said that they’d found a whole folder of photos and footage of me on a memory stick in a bag with some duct tape, hidden in the wood near the pit. Fingerprints on the memory stick matched Lonny’s. He must have been watching, filming me for weeks without my knowledge, just waiting for the right moment
.

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