Severed (28 page)

The truth is, by the time we got married - on one of those two-week deals in Barbados, with only a few close family present - our best days were already behind us. I was hoping the honeymoon might turn things round and signal some sort of improvement. After all, it's difficult to have too much of a bad time when the sun's shining and the palm trees are shimmering in a gentle tropical breeze. But somehow we managed it, spending most of the trip arguing. I can't even remember what it was we argued about. It was just niggling little disagreements, the kind couples have when each partner realizes that he or she's with the wrong person.

We limped along for another six months, but the faultlines in our relationship - work pressures and the failure to conceive - kept growing, and one day, after yet another explosive argument that had come out of
nowhere and drained both of us, she asked me, very calmly but very firmly, to leave.

For some reason, even then her request came as a shock. You see, a small part of me still hoped that somehow we could make it work, that the stresses would fade with time, that she'd fall pregnant and everything would be OK again.

In the end, when it came to it, I didn't want to go, and I asked her to reconsider. But Adine had made up her mind. 'I don't love you any more,' she said quietly. She'd never said that before, even during our worst arguments, and I knew from the resigned tone in her voice that she meant it.

And that was that. Full of regret for what might have been, and wondering if there was anything I could have done differently, I packed my bags and left the flat that afternoon. I never went back.

We kept in touch, though, and through our break-up and subsequent divorce our relationship remained amicable. I think that, in the long run, parting was the right choice for both of us, because our bond just wasn't strong enough, but occasionally I do regret the fact that in the
interim Adine hasn't had the family she wanted so much, and that I haven't either.

I haven't seen her for close to six months, but as soon as I was booked in here, I knew who I was going to put my one phone call through to. She's always been a damn good lawyer, and that's exactly what I need. Well, that's not quite right. I need a miracle, but in the absence of one, she'll have to do.

The cell door's unlocked, and I'm told by a bored-looking uniformed cop with dyed black hair that my brief's arrived. I get up from the bunk and follow the cop and his equally bored-looking colleague through a set of featureless and largely empty corridors that remind me of a hospital. I guess if I worked in surroundings like this, I wouldn't be full of the joys of spring either.

Surprisingly, there doesn't seem to be much in the way of security round here, but then there doesn't really need to be. I'm in the holding area beneath the main part of the station, and there's no way out except through a series of electronically operated doors that eventually take you into the station proper, and straight into the arms of God knows how many other
cops. Once you're down here, there really is no way out.

We reach a door, and the cop with the dyed hair knocks twice, opening it at the same time. 'Your client,' he announces curtly, then moves aside to let me through.

Adine stands up from behind a table as the door closes behind me. She's wearing a black cocktail dress with a very light cashmere cardigan of the same colour over it. Her hair's loose and longer than the last time I saw her, reaching down to her shoulders, and she's got her contacts in rather than her glasses, a look that shows off the contrast between her jet-black eyebrows and the pale translucent blue of her eyes. In short, she looks stunning. I find it difficult not to fall in love with her all over again.

'Well, it looks like you've really done it this time, Tyler,' she says with a weary sigh that seems to last for several seconds, immediately shattering the illusion.

'Hello, Adine. Nice to see you again too.'

'I had to leave a meal in the Ivy for this, you know.' She gestures towards the room's only other chair. 'I'm only doing this because I'd feel guilty if I didn't help.'

I sit down, noticing that she's wearing scarlet varnish on her fingernails. It must have been a hot date. She never wore it for me. Amazingly, even after everything else, I feel the vague stirrings of jealousy.

'You're in a lot of trouble,' she states with numbing honesty.

'I know.'

'You'd better tell me what happened.'

So I do, for the third time today, only this time I start from the beginning and I don't leave anything out, except for my theory that Alannah is the Vampire, because, for all that I'm convinced by it, that's all it is, a theory, with nothing to back it up. I don't need to muddy the waters any more than they've been muddied already.

Adine listens in silence, making notes on a pad in front of her, and when I finish she sighs again and looks at me with a combination of pity and incredulity. 'And that's the absolute truth?'

I nod. 'Yeah, it is.'

There's a long pause. I don't know what else to say. I've laid my situation on the line, and hearing the details out loud doesn't make me feel any more optimistic that I'm going to
extricate myself from the pit I'm in. By the look on Adine's face, she shares this view. After a long time, during which she makes further notes, she finally speaks.

'It's a particularly lurid story,' she says, her voice laced with tacit disapproval.

'It's not good,' I admit.

'And I'm sorry about Lucas. I always liked him.' She speaks the words in a matter-of-fact manner, but that's always been her way, and I know she does feel sorry about it.

'It's my fault,' I say. 'If I hadn't turned up at his door today, then he and Snowy would still be alive.'

'But you did, and it's done now. Don't beat yourself up about it.'

No-one could ever call Adine sentimental. But she's also right. I've got to think about myself. There'll be time for grieving later.

'And you can't tell the police what you've just told me, either.'

'Why not? It's the truth.'

'It may be the truth, but if that's what you tell them, there's no way they'll release you.'

'You always told me that you have to represent a client on the basis of what he or
she tells you. That you can't lie on their behalf.'

'Look, Tyler, you've just incriminated yourself in a total of four murders. And that was
before
you turned up at a house full of corpses.'

'Three were self-defence,' I protest, 'and one was an accident. If the guy hadn't struggled . . .'

'While you were holding a gun to his head, remember that.' She sighs. 'The point is, no-one's going to believe that you were totally justified in killing four people. I'm not asking you to lie, it's just important we minimize the details we give the police. Now, cast your mind back to this morning. When you were chased by the police from the house where you picked up the briefcase, did any of them get a good look at you?'

I shake my head. 'I don't think so. I kept my head down and it all happened very quickly. I also wore gloves while I was in the house, so I don't think my fingerprints'll be there.'

'Good. Is there anything that might connect the events there to the rest of the events today?'

'Not as far as I know.'

'Right, let's not mention it, then.'

'Are you sure?'

'Listen, Tyler, if you want me to represent
you, you're going to have to do what I say. Understand?'

'OK.'

'Can you remember anything at all about last night?'

I shake my head. It remains as blank as ever.

'We're going to have to get you tested for drugs. I want to know what you were dosed with.'

'Whatever it was, it was strong.'

'If we get bail, which I have to say at the moment I doubt in the extreme, I'm going to arrange for you to undergo hypnosis. It's important that we find out anything that might give us a clue as to who was behind this.'

'I know.'

'And you've got absolutely no idea who it might be?'

'I've thought about it all day, but I still don't know.'

'Might it be something to do with your past?'

'That's what I've been thinking. That it's got something to do with my army days.'

'Is there anything that happened that might have pissed someone off?'

'That's the problem. I can't think of anything
specific. I served in plenty of war zones but I was just one of many soldiers. There's no reason why anyone would have picked me out for revenge. And why wait this long? I left the army getting close to four years ago; these days I'm just a middle-of-the-road car salesman. I'm not interesting enough to upset anyone that much.'

Adine sighs. 'Unless we find out who might have a reason for setting you up, the attention of the police is always going to keep coming back to you.'

'But there's no motive for me killing any of these people.'

'That's as may be, but be under no illusions, Tyler. The police'll be under huge pressure to get convictions for these killings. The Met have one of the lowest clear-up rates for murder in the country. They're not going to want it to go any lower, and with you, they've at least got a decent suspect. You were arrested leaving a house where four people were murdered. The fact that you made the nine-nine-nine call from within the property places you there at about the time of the murders.'

'But the fact that I made that call should count in my favour,' I say hopefully.

'Get real, Tyler. That's no defence.' She underlines something in her notes, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, then puts the pen down and gives me a stern look. 'No, what we've got to do is make you look like an innocent in all this, which is not going to be easy. The important thing is that you don't mention anything about the killings this morning at the house where you picked up the briefcase, or the dead girl you woke up next to this morning. I'm hoping that the person who set you up for her murder has kept his side of the bargain and given you all the evidence, rather than keep anything back to give to the police.'

'The problem is, it looks as though he's trying to get me to take the rap for everything, so why wouldn't he have sent another copy of the DVD to the police?'

'Because,' she says, 'if someone hands in that DVD anonymously and then phones to say that the killer in the film is you, it might have the opposite effect to what's intended. In other words, it might make the police suspect that you are being set up. If I were him, I'd think it was far easier just to leave things as they are. I
mean, your situation is hardly a positive one.'

I concede her point. 'All right, then. What
do
I tell them?'

'As little as possible. The fact that Lucas has already talked to the police about his colleague's murder means you're going to have to admit to knowing about that. But we don't necessarily have to give the same version of events.'

I'm getting an uneasy feeling now. 'What do you mean?'

'You told me that Lucas told the detectives investigating his colleague's--'

'Snowy. His name's Snowy.'

'All right, Snowy.' She seems to find it difficult to say the name. 'You said that Lucas told the detectives that you approached him this afternoon to ask him to put a track on a briefcase, and that Snowy was the person who actually tracked it, but the two of you lost contact with him.' She pauses for a moment to consult her notes - not, I suspect, that she needs them. Adine's always had a photographic memory. 'You and Lucas parted company, and then the next thing Lucas knew the police were on the line telling him that his colleague was dead.'

'That's about right.'

'So we simply turn it around. You didn't approach Lucas about the case, he approached you. He said he was putting a track on the case and he might need your help dealing with the people who were going to be receiving it. As he was an old friend of yours from the army, you reluctantly said yes.'

'You
are
asking me to lie.'

'No, Tyler,' she says, folding her hands on the desk, 'what I'm trying to do is save you from going to prison for a long time. Now, we either do things my way or you're on your own.'

She pauses, waiting for me to contradict her. I don't, and she takes this as tacit acceptance of her plan.

'You might have been seen by someone near Snowy's body, so I think we should tell the truth here. Having reluctantly said yes, you and Lucas were also tracking the case, and discovered the tracker and Snowy's corpse at the same time. And it was then that you realized you were involved in something far more dangerous than you'd anticipated.' She stops. 'Did anyone see you go into the brothel?'

'No. I got in round the back, and I was
wearing different clothes to the ones I was arrested in.'

'What about leaving?'

'There were a lot of people out watching the fire, but I was smoke-blackened, bleeding and all sorts. I doubt if anyone would be able to pick me out in an ID parade.'

'That's good,' she says, nodding slowly. 'When you and Lucas found Snowy, Lucas panicked. So did you. The two of you parted company, with Lucas apologizing for getting you involved.'

I'm beginning to feel sick. After everything that's happened, this feels like the final act of betrayal.