Shaping the Ripples (29 page)

Accepted the inevitable, I climbed in beside her. The car pulled smoothly away. “Couldn’t you wait for the doctor’s report?” I asked her.

“It’s nothing to do with that,” she said seriously. Then she glanced across at me and spoke in a fierce voice. “You and I never had this conversation, do you understand?”

Now I was really confused. “OK,” I answered.

“Michael is very frustrated and angry at the moment. You saw that in the interview room,” she began.

“Yes,” I agreed, still with no idea what she was getting at.

“What I want you to remember is that DI Palmer and I are investigating this case together,” she continued. “There should be no reason why any interview of you isn’t conducted by both of us. You might want to be very careful before letting one of us see you on their own.”

“Are you trying to warn me?” I asked suddenly.

“Like I said, we never had this conversation,” she repeated. “But, as a hypothetical, if DI Palmer were to arrive at your flat and request a private interview, you might be wise to get in touch with me before allowing him access.” She handed me a small piece of card. “My direct number and mobile numbers are on there,” she said. “I’m sure you must have picked it up on some other occasion. You might want to keep them close to you just in case such a situation as I’ve described were to arise.”

“What exactly are you trying to tell me?” I asked her once again.

“As this conversation has never taken place, I’m not trying to tell you anything,” she insisted. “I’m putting myself in a difficult situation here. All I’m suggesting is that you might be surprised and understandably cautious if either DI Palmer or myself tried to interview you by ourselves. Someone who had been through the things you’ve experienced in recent weeks might feel they should be particularly careful at the moment.”

The car pulled up outside my flat, so I climbed out of the car. I leaned back in to look at her. She stared pointedly ahead out of the windscreen.

“Thanks, I think,” I said to her.

She began to move the car forwards, so I hastily pulled my head out and closed the door. Just before it shut fully, her voice drifted back towards me.

“What for?” it said, and she was gone.

Chapter Thirty One

Once I was back in my flat, all the emotions of the day finally got the better of me. I slumped down on the couch, feeling completely wiped out. The answering machine had one new message on it. It was from Katie, asking me to ring her as soon as I got back, no matter what time it was. I composed myself, and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” Katie’s anxious voice came on the first ring. Once she heard it was me, she said, “Oh Jack, thank goodness it’s you. I’ve been so worried since George rang to say what had happened. I don’t know what to say – I know how much you cared about them.”

“It’s just all hard to take in at the moment,” I admitted, and my voice cracked with emotion. Just hearing her voice and the care and sympathy in it had brought me close to tears again.

“Don’t try and talk,” she said quickly. “I’ll be right over.”

“You don’t have to,” I began to protest, but she had already rung off.

It was less than ten minutes until the flat buzzer sounded. I pressed the button to let her in to the building, and opened the front door. As she came into the flat, her eyes bright with unshed tears, she just stretched her arms wide.

“I’m so sorry,” she said in a barely audible voice.

I moved towards her, and we held each other tightly. We stood like that for an eternity, like two drowning people clinging on to a rock. I could tell from the trembling of her shoulders that she was sobbing silently, and found my own cheeks wet as the comfort of her being there let me release some of the bottled up grief.

Eventually, the storm had calmed and we sat down clinging onto each other. There was no need for words, and we just sat in silence, each drawing strength from the other. I have no idea how much time had passed, but when I caught a glimpse of my watch it was reading 1.30am. I tilted her head gently up to look into her at her beautiful face.

“Don’t you need to get some rest?” I offered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “There’s no way that I’m going to leave you on your own. Not tonight.”

I leant forwards and kissed her. It started as a simple kiss of thanks, but as she responded to the kiss, it turned into something quite different. The whole atmosphere of the room seemed charged with electricity, and I was shocked by the rush of desire that suddenly overwhelmed me. I looked into the deep green of her eyes and saw a mirror of my own feelings.

“I didn’t ..,” I began to say and then tailed off.

“It’s alright,” she said. “I understand.”

We stood together, and walked into the bedroom hand in hand. Inside we paused to kiss again, and I drank in the smell of her perfume and the soft warmth of her lips as if it was my first day on earth. As we kissed, she raised her arms and let me lift her jumper slowly off over her head.

She stepped away for a moment to remove her jeans, and I felt bereft that our bodies had parted. As I began to undress we came back together in a rush of heat and longing. We parted again as she took off her underwear, giving me a fleeting glimpse of her breathtaking body as she slipped under the covers of the bed.

In an instant I was besides her, and we began to learn the intimate secrets of one another. Time, loss and even life and death lost all meaning as I explored the mysteries of this amazing, wonderful woman, and our bodies became one inseparable being. I had never dreamed that such passion, such joy, such oneness with another person was possible.

When finally we were both utterly spent, we lay in a quiet embrace which was no less precious than the ecstatic moments that had preceded it. Before long, Katie was asleep, her soft breath warming my chest as I lay awake gazing at her.

If I could be frozen in one moment of peace and happiness, it would be that one. But of course, life doesn’t work like that and in almost no time at all, all the familiar self doubt and recriminations had crept back into my mind.

There’s a part of the film “When Harry met Sally?” where he tries to explain that one difference between men and women is that after making love the man wants to get up and go home, while the woman wants to be held all night. I certainly didn’t want to stop holding Katie, but as the thoughts began to rush in, I was reminded of the image of just after they make love for the first time. She is curled up against him while he lies with his eyes wide open, wishing he could go.

So I lay, tormented with irrational thoughts of guilt and regret. Katie had come here to be a comfort and a support, and I had taken advantage of her love and compassion. I hated myself.

I tried to argue against that thought, pointing out that it was been fairly obvious that Katie had wanted it as well. The next accusation was even less easy to defend myself from. Dr. Mitchell had described me as someone who didn’t allow themselves to feel emotions, other than superficially. When he’d said the words, I knew with a lurch in my stomach that he was right.

That was precisely why my marriage to Liz had failed, because I was so closed off to her. In the end, living with an emotional cripple, no matter how much you may love them at the start, wears you down and slowly strangles the love that was there. How could I possibly be so cruel as to let Katie get more and more involved in a relationship with me, when I knew it would end up painfully? If I’m not capable of the sort of love she deserves, then what was I doing letting the relationship develop as if I was?

More than that, there was the unshakable picture of what had been done to Jill and Sophie. If the killer was determined to strike at the things that were most precious to me, then I could be putting Katie in danger right now. Continuing the relationship with her might not just be selfishly causing her to be hurt emotionally, it could be putting her life at risk.

The thoughts raced inexorably through my head all through the next hours. By the time morning eventually arrived, I had pretty much convinced myself that the greatest moment of my life had been a terrible mistake.

Fortunately, I had enough sense not to share this insight with Katie over breakfast. She approached me a little tentatively, but then seemed to relax as I hugged her while getting out the bowls for cereal. If I was a little quiet as we ate, I hoped that she’d put it down to my worry about the killer, rather than anything else.

“Are you going in to work today?” she asked when we were clearing up.

“I’m going in to see George first thing,” I answered. “But I’ll probably come home after that.”

“Shall I come round after work?” she asked, her eyes searching my face.

“Of course,” I said as cheerfully as I could. If I hadn’t changed my mind, the sooner we talked the better. “Do you want to pick a takeaway up on your way round?”

“OK,” she answered. “Is it alright for me to leave my car in the garage today?”

I told her it would be fine and we walked to work hand in hand. George was already there when we arrived, sorting out the post. He looked up as we entered, straightening as he saw me.

“Jack,” he said with a failed effort at a smile. “How are you?”

“Not great,” I admitted.

“You didn’t have to come in today,” he told me reprovingly.

“I’m probably not going to stay for long,” I answered. “There were just a couple of things I wanted to discuss with you first.”

“Of course,” he said. “Do you want to come through to my office? Oh, and there was an odd letter waiting for you this morning.” He reached into the pile in front of him and picked up a small white envelope. “It must have been hand delivered.”

As he handed it across, I looked at the single word “Jack” printed on the front. I couldn’t tear my eyes from that one bit of writing. “It’s from him,” I said finally.

“From who?” George said in puzzlement, but Katie was much quicker to grasp what I meant. “From the killer?” she said, and I nodded.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t open it and just take it straight to the police.” George suggested.

I thought about that for a minute, but then decided. “If the previous notes are any guide, there won’t be any fingerprints on it anyway. I may as well know what he’s got to say to me this time.” I tore open the envelope and took the note out, to be greeted by the familiar script.

Jack,

Maybe you’ve learned the lesson now. Your life is worth nothing because I can so easily undo all your achievements. If fact, it’s worth less than nothing – you are a virus that blights the life of everyone you have contact with. Don’t you think that they would have been better off if they’d never met you? At least they might still be alive. I made sure they knew, as I carved the screaming little girl up like a joint, that it was all your fault that they were going to suffer and die.

I hope you can live with the guilt, at least for a little while. Is it time for us to meet, or do you think I can find some other things you value to take away from you first? I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.

Soon,

Guignol

Once I’d read the note, I handed it across to George and Katie. Katie gasped silently as she absorbed its contents.

“This is one very sick person,” said George. “You need to give this to the police as soon as possible.”

“You mustn’t believe what he’s written,” Katie said furiously. “You have nothing to feel guilty about. None of this is your fault.”

“Maybe,” I said without much conviction. “But it pretty much confirms what I’d already decided. My being at work could well be putting other people in danger. Who knows who he’s going to target next – another client; you, because you’re my friends; or anyone? I just can’t take the risk anymore.”

“I understand why you’re saying that,” George answered. “But what option do you have? You can’t just stop your life altogether because of him.”

“I think the end is getting closer,” I said. “He seems to be escalating the whole thing. I think it’s best if I stay away from work until it’s all resolved, one way or another.”

“What do you mean, one way or another?” Katie demanded.

“I mean until he’s stopped and caught, of course.” I tried to cover up for my earlier blunder, but I could see that Katie wasn’t persuaded. “Sooner or later he’s going to make a move on me, and I’m sure the police will trap him then.”

“Only if they’re not still convinced that it’s you who are behind all this,” Katie replied, putting my own doubts uncomfortably into words.

“I’m sure this note will help to convince them,” I lied. “George, are you really sure that you can manage without me?”

“We’ll miss you, obviously,” he answered. “But we can cope with the work alright. Are you sure that this is what you want to do?”

“I’m sure that it’s what I have to do,” I said firmly. “If I carry on working and he does then kill another of my clients, I don’t think I’d ever be able to forgive myself.”

“OK,” he said. “But you make sure that you keep in touch and let us know how you are.”

“I’ll come round to your flat as soon as I’ve finished work,” Katie said. “Do you still want me to pick up a takeaway on my way?”

I was very tempted to tell her to stay away as well, but I could tell from the determination in her eyes that she wasn’t in the mood to listen. In any case, I thought I at least owed her a proper explanation.

“Yes, that would be nice,” I said. I waited around to see Barbara when she arrived so I could explain to her as well what was going on. She’s not someone given to great physical displays of emotion, but this time she gave me a fierce hug. I said my goodbyes to the three of them and, with one last look around the Centre, left. Part of me wondered if I would ever be in the place again.

I walked the short distance up to the police station, and reported to the main desk. Neither Laura Smith or Michael Palmer were in the station, so I left the note with the constable, who promised to pass it on to them as soon as they arrived.

I walked slowly back to my flat, well aware that I had a lot of thinking to do before I was ready to face Katie again.