Scaredy Cat (31 page)

Then Commander Sincere introduced the officer who was going to make a direct appeal to the man responsible for these terrible kil ings'. The camera moved along to fhorne. He looked a little nervous. Distracted.

He wondered how Thorne would perform on camera. He must have done this sort of thing before he was bound to be good at it. The Irishman had been smooth but he guessed that fhorne would bring something else to it. Power, perhaps. Something fuel ed by a genuine rage.

Of course he would. Thorne was a man after his own heart.

He wasnk disappointed. There was nothing written down no need for notes, mhorne looked straight into the camera and spoke calmly but with precision and strength.

He shuffled his chair forward his face only inches from the television screen his mouth open. It was as if Thorne was speaking straight to him.

Which of course he was.

'It's stil not too late. You can just stop al of this now. I can't promise anything but if you come forward now if you come forward toda3 then your case is going to be viewed that much more favourably.

298 MARK BILLINGHAM

'None of us can even begin to guess why you've chosen

to do these things. Perhaps you feel that you have no choice. You wil get the chance to explain al this if you stop the kil ing now.

'You know, of course, that we wil use any means at our disposal to stop you. Any means at al . I can't guarantee that this wil not result in injury of some sort to yourself. Or worse. We do not want to see anybody else hurt and that includes you. You can believe that or not. It's your choice.

'So just stop and think. Right now. Think for a minute. Whatever point you're trying to make, consider it made. Then pick up the phone.

'Let's end this madness. Now. Come forward today and hand yourself over to me... to us, and people wil be there to help you.'

Then Thorne leaned in towards the camera, his face fil ing the screen.

'One way or another, this wil al be over soon.'

Rachel had forgiven him almost instantly.

He'd cal ed first thing and had sounded so upset about what he'd done. He knew his behaviour had been unforgivable and wou. ld completely understand if she wanted to end it.

That was the last thing she wanted to do.

His apology made her feel strangely powerful. It was as

if there'd been a sudden shift. He could have just walked away but he hadn't. He'd wanted her forgiveness, and once she'd given it, she sensed that their relationship had moved on to a different footing.

He'd. explained that things at work hadn't been going

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too wel . There were a couple of people he was clashing with and it had al got on top of him. Obviously that didn't excuse what he'd done or anything, but he wanted her to know that he'd been under a lot of stress, that was al . She asked why he hadn't told her. She wanted to share things like that with him. She wanted to share everything with him. She could have helped.

He told her that he wanted to share everything with her and that one day soon he would.

She felt her mouth go dry. She knew that he was talking about sex.

He'd asked if it had been very bad after he'd stormed out of the comedy club. She told him that the woman comedian had picked on her for a bit but then it had been the interval and she'd sneaked out. They laughed, wondering what the rest of the audience would have been saying about them. He said he'd buy her a new skirt to replace the one that got covered in beer. He told her he'd buy her lots of things.

They'd dal ied over saying goodbye, but eventual y Rachel said that she real y had to go. She told him she'd cal him later and that she loved him and they hung up at the same time.

And then she'd carried on getting ready for school.

Anne was in a meeting and would be for the next couple of hours. Thorne was not unhappy about it. He'd asked at Reception and now he walked towards the lifts, breathing a sigh of relief. If he had run into her it would have been fine. He'd have handled it and so would she, but it was probably best to leave it a day or two.

He hoped that it would al be over by then.

The day before, after the cal from Sal y Byrne, they

300 MARK BILLINGHAM

hadn't been able to talk about anything. Once an arrest had been made, once the arrest had been made, they would be able to talk about it al . It wouldn't be easy for Anne but he would be there to help her through it.

If she stil wanted him.

He'd seen it lots of times with those who'd been close to kil ers. He remembered how hard it had been for Calvert's mother and father, though that had been very different.

It was a kind of death and there would be a proper mourning to be done. Anne would need to grieve for the friend she'd lost. She would be losing him in many ways, and she'd need to grieve for al of them. This was without the guilt she was bound to feel, and the shame at having been his friend in the first place, and the guilt she would feel because of the shame.

In al probability, she would also be the first port of cal

for his children and would need to comfort them and deal with their feelings. Then she would have the press to deal with. If they couldn't hound a kil er, they would hound a kil er's friends.

None of it was going to be easy.

Anne would be looking for someone to blame.

It was probably best, then, to avoid confrontation for a while. To stay out of the line of fire. It stil might al turn to shit anyway. He'd known plenty of cases, a lot more straightforward than this one, where a result had slipped away from them at the last minute. A fuck-up or, God forbid, a legal technicality was waiting around every corner to bury cocksure detective inspectors. Thorne wasn't counting any chickens. However, he was buoyant enough to be here in the first place, stepping into the lift and wondering exactly how he was going to explain everything.

Because it wasn't Anne he had come to see anyway.

SLEEPYHEAD 301

Going into Alison's room was a shock. Anne hadn't told him she was back on a ventilator, even though he'd known how susceptible she would always be to infection.

The room was noisier again, more cluttered, but the girl at the centre of it stil drew his eye and his heart as she had done from the first time he'd seen her. She'd had her hair cut since the last time he'd been here. That was the day he'd brought Bishop's photo in, just before he'd been told about the 'anonymous' accusations and things had spiral ed out of control.

Everything was under control again now.

He moved slowly towards the bed, walking past the blackboard, now folded away and lying against the wal covered in a white sheet. Had Alison heard him come in? He knew how limited her field of vision was and didn't want to make her jump.

He caught himself. Jump? Sil y bastard. He knew so little about what her life was like. What it had become. He'd promised himself he'd look into it and hadn't. He'd heard about people who'd had amputations and could stil feel the limbs that had gone. Was it like that for Alison? Could she stil feel or even imagine she was feeling what it was like to jump or run or kick or kiss?

He stopped at the end of the bed where he knew she could see him. Her eyebal skittered back and forth for a

few seconds. She blinked.

Hel o.

He moved to the side of the bed, reaching for the plastic orange chair and looking around the room, casual y, as if he were just another visitor fumbling for a suitable bedside pleasantry.

He could see no flowers anywhere.

There was nothing to do but begin talking.

302 MARK BILLINGHAM

'Hel o, Alison. I hope you don't mind me just turning up but there are a few things I wanted to explain. Because nobody else has, real y, and I think you have a right to know. Dr Coburn wil have given you al the medical stuff.., the medical side of things, but I wanted to try and tel you what happened to you. After you left the club that night. Obviously we don't real y know how much you remember. Probably nothing.'

He helped himself to a much-needed drink from the water jug on the bedside table. He wondered why there was a water jug when Alison couldn't drink.

'Exactly what happened between you leaving the nightclub and getting home is guesswork, real y, but it doesn't matter. You can tel us about where you met the man with the champagne when you get off this ventilator and get a bit better, but we know that he came into your house, and that the drug in the champagne would have been taking effect, and that there'd have been nothing you could do when he... put his hands on you.'

There was a loud crash from the corridor outside. He saw Alison react. A momentary tension in the skin around the eyes. Sounds were obviously so important.

He just needed to get to it now. Stop pissing about. He'd told parents how their children had died. Why should this be so difficult?

'Anyway, Alison, here's the thing. You didn't survive. I mean.., yes, of course you did, but that was actual y what he wanted.'

He patted the edge of the bed, cast an eye towards the machines, the monitors, the tubes, and back to Alison's face.

'This... is what he wanted, what he was trying to achieve.

SLEEPYHEAD 303

'It sounds mad, I know it does, and that's because it is. He wasn't trying to kil you. He might easily have kil ed you because what he did to you is actual y incredibly difficult. Hc's tried before and since, and not been successful... and other women have died. So...'

So what? Thorne wondered whether he should ever have started this. What should he tel her now? How lucky she'd been?

'That's it. I won't tel you that you were fortunate not to die. That's real y something only you can.., have feelings about. But you were strong enough.., not to die, so I'm sure you're strong enough to get yourself out of here.

'I have no idea why he did this, Alison. I wish I could tel you I did. I could make something up, but the truth is I haven't got a bloody clue.

'I can tel you one thing, though, and I suppose that's why I've come if I'm honest. He's going to tel me why he did it very soon. I want you to know that. Very soon. He's going to look me in the eye and tel me.'

He took her hand. Squeezed.

'Then I'm going to put the fucker in prison for the rest of his life.'

Real y? I see. Wel , thanks for popping by and dropping that little snippet into the conversation.

He did this to me deliberately. Wants me like this. Wired up, fucked up.

Right...

It's hard to take news any other way than calmly when you're like this. My reactions always tend to look a bit similar. On the outside anyway. I might seem a bit placid. Anybody looking at me would be thinking, Ooh, didn't she take it wel ? Inside's another matter.

Raging. Understanding what it means when your blood boils, because I can feel it bubbling. I can feel it moving through my veins like lava. Because I know now. I know for certain.

I'd sort of worked it out anyway.

I've been thinking it had to be something like that.

Something fucking twisted.

I've had a lot of time to think about it and you don't have to

be a genius to work out that something strange was going on.

There wasn't a mark on me.

There was nothing sexual. Anne told me.

I thought early on that maybe he was trying to break my

neck but there wasn't even a bruise. I reckon it's real y quite easy to kil somebody if you want to and I've been wondering why he didn't want to.

Trying to work out what he did want.

So I'm the one he got right? I'm a living and almost breathing testament to this bloke's.., skil ?

SLEEPYHEAD 305

While other women died.

Hearing the blood sizzle and hiss through the arteries. Steam coming off my skin.

Thorne sounded pretty confident about getting him. Something in his voice made me think that whoever did this is going to be sorry when Thorne gets hold of him.

Said he was going to make him tel him why he'd done it. I'm not sure that knowing why's going to make me feel better, real y. Getting him wil , though. Thorne said he didn't know how much I could remember. Neither do I.

But if it's going to help catch this bastard, I'm going to fucking wel find out.

EIGHTEEN

12 February 1999. His mother died.

3 September 1994. Jan left him for the first time.

18 June 1985. Calvert...

As Thorne drove towards Camden this Tuesday lunchtime, he had no ide that the fol owing day, 2 October 2000, would be another date to add to the list. Perhaps the most significant day of them al . Days that he would choose to forget, but that he would have little choice about remembering.

Days that formed him. Long, long days. Painful days. Days that had taught him something about who he'd been up to that point, and dictated who he was going to be from that point on.

What he was going to be.

This day, the eve of it al , had not begun wel and would only get worse. The ring had arrived from Edinburgh the night before and had gone straight to the forensic-science laboratory in Lambeth. Thorne was on the phone to Edgware Road first thing wanting an update on progress. There had been none, and was unlikely to be before the fol owing day. Al he'd received for his trouble had been another earful from Keable, who was getting very nervous. Jeremy Bishop had rung, demanding to know what was SLEEPYHEAD 307

going on. James Bishop had done likewise. As yet, with Rebecca Bishop remaining silent, it looked as though Thorne and Hol and had got away with the trip to Bristol.

Thorne smiled to himself now, as he steered the car through Regent's Park, past the unfeasibly grand houses of diplomats and oil bil ionaires. He smiled at his cockiness with Keable, his bluff-cal ing, his fuck-you attitude with Tughan.

He knew that he was on safe ground. Al of it, the cal s, the carpet fibres, the visits to Bishop's house, would be forgotten as soon as Thorne had got what he was after.

As soon as he'd proved that Jeremy Bishop was a multiple kil er.