See How They Run (25 page)

F
or what seemed a very
long time, Michael couldn’t move at all; not even when the slaughterhouse smell of the kitchen became overpowering. What held him in place was a concept, a single word, blaring out like some lurid headline:

BLOODBATH!

This was a bloodbath. A victim whose head had been smashed to pieces, causing the grisly contents of the skull to explode across the kitchen. The sight of it left Michael shaky, cold inside, his limbs rubbery and useless. There was a strange prickling inside his head, blurring his thoughts, a little like the prelude to a bad case of flu.

He expected his mother to be similarly disorientated, and yet Nerys looked only mildly perturbed, as if a pigeon had shat on her clean washing.

‘The stupid bloody pillock,’ she muttered. The vehement tone brought out her native Welsh accent. ‘To go and blackmail a man like Laird, and then try to drag me into it with him. The stupid,
stupid
pillock.’

Michael had to make a huge effort not to spill his guts, even while his mind was in disarray. ‘I assume we’re not going to … report it?’

A snort. ‘You want to dial 999, do you?’

‘No. But if it’s what
you
want. I mean, you could claim it was self-defence. If I wasn’t here, say, and he got violent with you …’

Nerys grinned slyly, as if she saw what he was really getting at.
If I wasn’t here
…

‘I’m not trying to get out of this. I’m just saying, it’s an option.’

‘No, Michael. It isn’t. Look at him. You think a jury’s going to believe
this
was self-defence?’

S
he was right
, of course. Michael’s shoulders sagged. He hadn’t felt this slow-witted in his mother’s presence since he was about six years old.

‘So what, then?’

‘Cover our traces, first of all.’ She moved around the table and inspected his clothes. ‘You’re clean, I think. Best go and fetch your car.’

He tried to object but she wouldn’t listen.

‘Mine’s too small to fit him in the boot.’ She studied the body again. ‘Before you do that, have a look in the garage for me. I’m sure I’ve got extra strong bags for garden waste. And there’s a set of overalls I bought for Clive and never threw away …’ She paused briefly; refocused: ‘Get the car, then change into the overalls. I’ll run your clothes through the machine, just in case.’

Michael’s attention wavered at the mention of Clive Saunders. He had been Nerys’s second husband for less than a year when he died of a heart attack, only a matter of weeks after the death of Michael’s father. He was recalling how, at the wake, he’d remarked on the unfortunate timing: the fact that Clive hadn’t lived to share the financial bonanza that was coming Nerys’s way.

‘Shame,’ she had agreed at the time. ‘But that’s the way the cookie crumbles.’

Now he stared at her, barely able to believe what he was about to say.

‘Have you done this before?’

S
he looked askance at him
. ‘Oh yes, I make a habit of bludgeoning people to death in my kitchen.’

‘I don’t mean this method, specifically.’ He held her gaze for long enough to see the warning in her eyes:
Don’t ask
. He added, ‘I’m not judging you. If anything, I think I’d be … reassured if you had. And very impressed.’

His gambit failed. She said coolly, ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Michael. Let’s leave it at that.’

‘All right.’ He turned away, murmuring to himself: ‘Garden bags. Overalls. Fetch the Range Rover.’

Nerys too was almost speaking to herself. ‘We’ll clean up the worst of it, then fetch the girls …’

Michael frowned.
Girls?
For a dreadful moment he thought she was referring to her granddaughters.

‘Oh, Christ,’ he whispered. ‘Alice.’

H
er mother listened
to Alice’s request. She was happy to comply, but it wouldn’t do any good.

‘The detective made it quite clear, he needs to speak to you himself. I’ve got his mobile number here.’

Relenting, Alice agreed to try. At least it gave her an excuse to terminate the conversation before Harry’s parents came on the line.

She rang the number, and the signal cut out just as she got a connection. She had only a sliver of battery power left.

On the second attempt he answered straight away. ‘DI Thomsett.’

‘This is Alice French. I understand you’re worried about me.’

‘And your daughter.’ His voice was warm, concerned, and Alice felt a sudden irrational urge to cry.

‘Evie’s fine. We both are. There’s just been a … a misunderstanding. Harry hasn’t harmed either of us. He wouldn’t do that. So you can call off the search for him … please.’

‘We’d like to, Alice. Just one thing: the number you’re calling from isn’t the one we have for you.’

‘No, I had to borrow this phone. From a friend.’ The word caught in her throat. ‘Mine’s out of power.’

‘I see.’ Still cautious. ‘The problem, as I’m sure you appreciate, is that I have to be sure I am actually speaking to Alice French.’

I
t made her gasp
, this glimpse of a detective’s worldview: the idea that Harry might not just do away with his wife, but also arrange for an imposter to throw the police off the scent.

‘I’ve just spoken to my mother. She’ll confirm that I’m the real Alice.’

He chuckled lightly. ‘Of course. And may I ask where you are?’

‘In the Gloucester area.’

‘Staying with a friend?’

‘Yes.’ She heard a wobble of uncertainty in her voice and knew he wouldn’t miss it. ‘Look, are all these questions necessary, because I’m low on battery?’

‘We have to be certain. I’m afraid I need you to call in at the nearest police station, along with Evie. And take some form of ID.’

‘What?’

‘So we can be sure you’re not speaking under duress. It’s a formality, I assure you.’

Alice sighed. It made perfect sense, and he had her best interests at heart: but still …

‘Look, I’m planning to be back in Brighton this afternoon.’ She wanted to add that Harry might be with her, but feared it would provoke questions about his whereabouts.

‘Are you? That’s even better. Call me when you get home, and with any luck we’ll have this wrapped up by tonight.’

‘Thank you.’ To her relief, Evie squealed loudly enough for Thomsett to hear. ‘I’ve got to go, sorry.’

T
homsett said goodbye
, adding that he hoped to hear from her again soon. Alice rocked Evie back to sleep, wondering if she’d done enough to keep Harry out of custody. Her mother would corroborate her identity – although, Mum being Mum, she’d probably complicate matters by declaring that Alice didn’t know a soul in Gloucestershire.

She decided to return to the clearing. Waiting this close to the field made her uneasy. If someone came past and started asking questions about what she was doing here, or what was in the bag … She imagined having to tell Renshaw that she had been mugged: his precious money gone. It almost made her smile.

With the cloud thickening, it was gloomier now under the trees, the air damp and chilly. A bird was chirping from not too far away, but otherwise there was silence. Alice stashed Renshaw’s bag behind a tree stump and attempted to sit down. She had to descend in extreme slow motion, hoping to fool the built-in altimeter that woke her daughter whenever you tried to rest while holding her. The instant she made contact with the seat, Evie opened her eyes and gave her an accusing stare.

‘All right.’ Sighing, Alice stood up again. Evie shut her eyes and went back to sleep.

A gust of wind blew through the trees, causing dry leaves to lift from the ground and settle back, like soil being scattered on a coffin. Alice shivered. Checked the phone and saw that the battery was all but dead.

It was gone twelve. He ought to have been here by now.

‘Hurry up, Renshaw,’ she whispered. ‘Hurry up and get me out of here.’

H
arry stewed
, impotently, while Ruth drove at a steady fifty in a line of traffic on the A11, level fields and thin woodland on either side of them. The Audi kept on their tail at a relaxed distance, six or seven cars back. Harry knew that what he’d said to Keri still applied: he was in a position where he had no alternative but to trust Ruth –
consider
trusting her, at least – or go it alone.

‘How long have you been working for them?’

‘Less than ninety minutes.’ A sidelong glance at him. ‘I mean it. This only came about because I screwed up. They spotted me as I left the hotel in Crawley. The only saving grace,’ she pointed out, ‘is they didn’t see me with
you
.’

‘Right.’

‘Same deal, Harry,’ she said airily. ‘Believe me or don’t believe me. But this is the truth. They bundled me into a car and gave me a sedative. One of them took my keys and found the Corsa, while the others drove me here, to Norfolk. I woke up in a shipping container, awash with the blood of another victim of theirs. A man named Hasan—’

‘Mansur,’ Harry finished. ‘His remains were found on a beach at Lowestoft.’

‘Yeah. Well, this morning I had an audience with Mark Vickery – and Laird, I think, was listening in from somewhere else. Now I’m heading for the same fate as Hasan unless I give them what they want: namely, Renshaw. I managed to convince them that I could find him, using you.’

Harry snorted. ‘You sold me out?’

‘No, let me explain. That was the only bargaining chip I had. It meant I could live to fight another day.’

‘So why the pretend ambush?’

‘I suggested that, to rebuild your trust after my disappearing act last night. Which I’ve just owned up to, by the way.’

‘Yeah, except this might be a double bluff.’

‘Do you think it is? Because that’s not the vibe I’m getting from you.’

U
nwilling to confirm her intuition
, Harry said nothing. His gut instinct was to believe her, but when he thought about it rationally, he couldn’t explain why. Perhaps only that he had a desperate need to trust
someone
.

They drove for another ten or fifteen minutes, through a landscape that was both attractive and rather monotonous, Ruth declining several opportunities to overtake. They crossed several junctions, Harry noting signs for various quaint-sounding places like Elveden and Tuddenham, and then they became snarled up in roadworks.

‘So,’ Ruth said at last. ‘The address?’

He couldn’t help but groan. This was what she had meant by being ‘of use’ to her.

‘You honestly expect me to tell you? So you can find Renshaw – and then what? Hand him over to Laird? In the meantime, what happens to me, and my family?’ He flapped his hand dismissively. ‘You don’t give a toss about us.’

‘That’s not entirely true. And this is no time for petulance, Harry. You’re going to tell me the address—’

‘Or what? You’ll hurt me?’

She laughed. ‘No. You’ll give it to me, because you don’t want me to die a slow, horrible death. And because you know that, without me, you won’t get to Gloucestershire and find your family.’

He said nothing. After a minute she reached out and patted his leg, making him flinch.

‘Relax, will you? This is a breathing space, right now.’

‘We’re being followed, remember?’

‘Yeah.’ She pondered for a moment. ‘Guess I’d better do something about that.’

T
hey reached
a major roundabout with four or five exits. In the past few minutes the Audi had leapfrogged several other vehicles and was now only three cars back.

As she pulled out on to the roundabout, Ruth suddenly cut across in front of the car to her right. Harry saw that the road ahead widened into a dual carriageway, and guessed that was the reason for her decision. Now she would be able to put on some speed.

Instead, she slowed to the point where the car behind, already aggrieved at the sudden lane change, blasted its horn. Ignoring it, Ruth braked harder, then wrenched the wheel to the right and bumped two wheels up on to the low kerb of the central reservation, which formed a triangle between the two carriageways and the roundabout.

Harry shouted out in alarm as Ruth accelerated into the path of the oncoming traffic, forcing her way back on to the roundabout. The Audi had been unable to react in time: Harry saw it change lane but by then the triangle of paved central reservation had given way to a steel safety barrier. Their pursuers had no way of turning until the next junction, whenever that was.

Ruth took the first exit, heading north through more woodland. She seemed unruffled by the manoeuvre.

‘You nearly killed us,’ Harry muttered.

‘Not really. It was pretty slow-moving traffic. Could have totalled the car, at worst, but even that wouldn’t have been fatal.’

Harry swallowed, not wanting to imagine being trapped in a mangled wreck. Ruth accelerated past an elderly Nissan, checked her mirror carefully, and then pronounced them free of their tail. She tapped out a playful little tune on the steering wheel, as if it were a beloved percussion instrument.

‘So … where to, Harry?’

F
inding Alice was
a major priority but not the only one, Nerys reminded him. They had to think carefully. Be methodical.

Like when you smashed his skull to pieces
, Michael could have said.

Ignoring the smell and the filth, Nerys crouched down and searched Renshaw’s pockets. She found a cheap phone, a set of keys and a wallet. The wallet contained a couple of hundred pounds in notes and a single credit card.

‘It’s
got
to be here somewhere. You heard him say he’s got evidence. Why isn’t it here?’

‘Definitely not in his room?’

‘I searched it from top to bottom.’

‘His car, then?’

She nodded glumly. ‘We’ll have to check.’

‘You do the car. I’ll have another look at his room.’

They were back in the kitchen within a few minutes: empty-handed, despondent. Nerys stared into the middle distance, her lips a thin white line.

‘I don’t believe this. I
do not
frigging believe this.’ She stared at Michael, her eyes cold, not really seeing him. ‘Alice,’ she said at last.

‘You think he’s left it with her?’

‘Must have done. I wonder if he gave us a cock-and-bull story about her being an innocent bystander. Perhaps she was his accomplice all along.’

‘Even more reason to find her then.’

A flash of panic crossed his mother’s face. ‘They might have set a time limit. If he’s not back within
x
minutes, she makes a run for it.’

Michael felt his heart beating faster. ‘Where would she go?’

‘Most of the paths in Westcombe Wood lead to a track across the northern edge, which runs parallel to the Elkstone Road. From there she could hitch a lift.’ A gulp. ‘Or maybe they’ve got another car?’

‘Oh, shit.’ Michael turned towards the front door. ‘How do I get there?’

‘Up Hall’s Lane, then you’re on the A435 for about thirty seconds. Left just past The Eagle pub. There’s a parking area right at the top of the wood.’

‘No problem,’ Michael said. ‘I’ll find her.’

And he meant it. He was buzzing as he left the house, his senses heightened, all the fear and regrets pushed aside: utterly absorbed by the thrill of the chase.