The Mystery of Mercy Close (51 page)

In silence I gaped at him. My brain was reading a ticker-tape of emotion – outrage, shock, disbelief, desire for revenge – then abruptly I felt nothing. Who cared? What was done was done and let’s cut to the chase. ‘So where’s Wayne? You know stuff and you’d better tell it to me. After clattering me, you owe me.’

Suddenly deflated, he took a mournful sup of milk. ‘I haven’t a scobie where Wayne is.’

‘But …’ I didn’t understand. ‘What’s going on? What’s your interest in this whole thing?’

‘I’ve … invested,’ he admitted, almost shyly.

‘You? You’ve put money into the Laddz gig? A crim like you?’

‘Times change, Helen. Times change. Things aren’t as easy as they once were for an ordinary decent businessman such as myself. I’m having to diversify.’

‘So you know nothing useful?’ I stared at him, realizing that Harry Gilliam was as desperate and clueless as everyone else. Just slightly more sinister.

‘Chin up, Helen,’ he said. ‘You need to get back out there and find him. Wayne Diffney had better be on that stage tomorrow night.’

‘Or what?’

‘Or I’ll be very cross.’

I gave him a spiteful little smile. By tomorrow night I wouldn’t be around and he could be as cross as he liked.

Visibly rattled, he demanded, ‘What are you grinning at?’

‘Bye, Harry.’

To my great amazement, as I made my way back to my car who did I see barrelling along the pavement like an anxious ox in a beige raincoat? Only Walter Wolcott! With great concentration, he was looking up at the shop names, clearly
searching for a particular establishment. I watched him as he bustled past – he didn’t even register me – and when he saw the broken neon sign advertising Corky’s, he shoved the door open with his meaty paw and went marching in. It was hard to tell if he was there by appointment or if he was just taking a punt. From his fretful demeanour, I guessed he was just fishing. Nevertheless he had somehow made a connection between Wayne and Harry Gilliam and that impressed me. Maybe he really would find Wayne.

Maybe he really would find Wayne and I wouldn’t.

God, how shaming. Yes, I might be planning to die, but I still took some pride in my work.

I was so fixated on Wayne that when my phone rang just after I’d got back into my car, and I saw that it was Antonia Kelly, I had a moment of blankness: who was she? Then I remembered.

‘Helen? You said you’d like a chat?’

‘Hi, Antonia. I mean, whenever, I know you’re busy –’

‘Is it urgent, Helen?’

I thought about my visit to the hardware shop. ‘No.’ I had my plan and I wasn’t going to give up on it. Maybe last night Antonia could have rescued me, but I was on a different path now and it was one I liked. ‘I shouldn’t have bothered you. I was just having a moment.’

‘How bad is it, Helen?’

‘Not bad at all. Sorry for bothering you.’

‘Helen,’ she said gently, ‘you’re forgetting I know you. You’re the most self-reliant person I’ve ever met. You wouldn’t have called me if you hadn’t been desperate.’

And, you know, something in that got to me. She
knew
me. Someone knew me. I wasn’t totally alone.

‘Are you feeling suicidal?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Have you acted on these impulses?’

‘I bought a Stanley knife. And other stuff. I’m doing it tomorrow.’

‘Where are you right now?’

‘In my car. Parked in Gardiner Street.’

‘Have you the knife with you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can you see a bin? Keep talking to me, Helen. Can you see a bin? Look out of your window.’

‘Yes, I can see one.’

‘Okay, keep talking to me. Get out of your car and throw the knife in the bin.’

Obediently, I picked the bag off the floor and climbed out of my car. It was so nice to have someone else in control for a little while.

‘It says “Plastic Only”. The bin,’ I said.

‘I think they’ll make an exception in this case.’

I slung the bag, with the knife, the Sellotape, the paper, the markers – the whole kit – into the bin. ‘Okay, it’s done.’

‘Right, get back into your car.’

I got back in and slammed the door.

‘That takes care of the immediate problem,’ she said. ‘But obviously there’s nothing to stop you buying another knife. Do you think you can get through the rest of the day without doing that?’

‘Well, seeing as I hadn’t planned to go ahead with things until tomorrow, then, yes, I can.’

‘Is there anyone you could be with tonight? Someone you feel safe with?’

I had a think about it. I could stay in Wayne’s. I felt safe there. It probably wasn’t what Antonia was getting at, but I said, ‘Yes.’

‘We have a choice, then. Unfortunately I’m out of the country at the moment but I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. I can see you then. Or would you consider – I know you hated it in there – but would you consider going back into hospit –’

I couldn’t even let her say the word. I interrupted before she’d finished. ‘I’ll think about it.’

‘You’re a strong person,’ she said. ‘Far stronger, far braver than you think you are.’

‘Am I?’

‘Oh yes.’

I was almost annoyed with her for saying that because I felt I had to justify her faith in me. I couldn’t let her down.

After she’d hung up I sat in my car for a long, long time. I felt … not peaceful, it was nothing as nice as peaceful, but resigned. The urge to end my life had gone off me, at least for the moment. It might come back – it had the last time – but right now I felt I had to take the tougher option: I had to live through this. I’d do what I’d done the last time: take millions of tablets, see Antonia twice a week, go to yoga, try running, eat only blue food, maybe go into hospital for a while to keep myself safe from any suicidal urges. I could make another bird box. You can never have too many bird boxes. I’d like to get a T-shirt saying that.

My phone rang. It was Artie. Again.

I
could
skip the conversation with him. Why put myself through something so painful? But – was it that I liked loose ends being tidied up? – I answered.

‘I need to see you,’ he said.

‘Yeah, I thought you might.’

‘We can’t do this on the phone.’ He sounded very uncomfortable. ‘I need to see you in person.’

I surrendered totally. Might as well get it over with. ‘When? Now?’

‘Now would be good. I’m at work.’

‘Okay. I’ll be with you in about twenty minutes.’

As I drove, I began to cry. Passively at first. Silent tears poured down my face without any input from me. Then, as chunks of grief broke free from my core and shuddered their way up to my throat, my sobbing gathered pace, until I was actually making choking noises. Stalled at traffic lights, I no longer had to keep my body upright and I was able to lay my head on my steering wheel and fully give in to the convulsions. I became aware of someone watching me – a young man in the car in the lane beside me. He rolled down his passenger window and, looking really concerned, he mouthed, ‘Are you okay?’

I wiped my face with my arm and nodded yes. Yes, fine, thank you, grand.

Artie was waiting for me by the double doors that opened on to his office floor. He looked like a man in torment. His eyes flickered over my tear-stained face, but he didn’t make any remarks.

I started making my way towards his glassy office, but he stopped me. ‘No, not there. Too public.’

‘Where?’

He took me into a special office, one that had no windows.

‘Will we sit down?’ he said.

I nodded, mute with grief, and lowered myself on to an uncomfortable office chair. Artie took another one and we sat, facing each other.

‘I’ve thought long and hard about this,’ he said.

I was sure he had.

‘I don’t want to do this,’ he said.

‘Then don’t.’

‘It’s too late,’ he said. ‘It’s done. Can’t go back now. The
damage is done. It’s been a really tough decision. I’ve been torn in two. But …’ He lapsed into miserable silence, his elbows resting on his knees, his hand over his mouth.

I couldn’t take the waiting any longer. ‘Right, just say it.’

‘Okay.’ He stopped staring into the corner of the room and made eye contact with me. ‘I got a look at that contract. Obviously I couldn’t take a copy of it. If it ever came out that I even saw it … Anyway, the gist of it is that John Joseph Hartley is up to his neck in it.’

‘His neck in what?’

Artie looked surprised. ‘Investment in the Laddz gigs. And he’s not insured. He couldn’t afford the insurance. If the gigs don’t happen, he’s scuppered. He badly needs Wayne Diffney to come back.’

It took a few seconds to find my voice. The information about John Joseph was useful – although no longer revelatory – but it wasn’t that that had silenced me. It was that Artie had taken such a risk for me. ‘That’s what you brought me into this scary room to tell me? That you put your career on the line to scout out a private contract for me?’

‘There’s more,’ he said.

Yes, I’d thought there might be.

‘Your pal Jay Parker is also implicated.’

‘My pal?’

‘Yeah, your pal.’

‘He’s not my pal.’

Artie watched me in silence. ‘Isn’t he?’ Artie was no fool. ‘I was … concerned that he was. That you and he had unfinished business.’

I shook my head. ‘No unfinished business. My business with Jay Parker is all … completely …’ What was the best word? ‘… 
finished
.’

‘I’m … relieved about that.’ So much subtext, myself and Artie. We really were like a Jane Austen book, as my mum kept saying.

‘One more thing,’ he said.

‘Go on …’

‘Harry Gilliam has invested too. Obviously he’s hiding behind a holding company. It’s clever and messy, but the details aren’t important. What is important is that he’s a dangerous person, Helen. It’s not for me to tell you your business but you really need to stay away from him.’

‘Okay. I will. And …?’

‘And?’

‘Is that all you’ve got to tell me?’

He seemed a little surprised. ‘Ah … yes. Should there be something else?’

‘I thought you brought me here to break up with me.’

He stared at me for a long time. ‘Why would I do that?’ he asked softly. ‘When I love you.’

‘You do?’ Christ. I hadn’t been expecting that. He was watching me warily because now it was my turn.

And how easy it was in the end. ‘I love you too.’

‘You do?’

‘I do.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ He seemed to collapse into himself with relief. Then a smile began to inch across his face. God, he was beautiful.

‘There’s just one thing –’ I said.

‘Vonnie. I know,’ he said earnestly. ‘I’ve talked to her. It’s got to stop, her coming and going like she still lives in the house. And I’ve talked to the kids; I’ve told them that I love you, so we can give up on the pretence that we don’t sleep together. We can see more of each other.’

‘It’s not that. Although – and you know I’m really fond of them all – maybe you and I need more alone time. What I’m trying to tell you is that I’m not feeling too good. Like, in my head.’

‘I’ve noticed.’

‘Have you?’ I was surprised.

‘I love you. Of course I’ve noticed. You’ve stopped eating. You don’t sleep. I’ve tried talking to you about it, but you’re so self-contained –’

‘Is it the smell?’ I blurted. ‘Am I smelly? I’ve tried to take showers; it’s just that I need a bit of help having them –’

‘You smell lovely. What I’m trying to say is: how can I help you?’

‘I don’t know,’ I admitted. ‘I don’t know if you can. It’s like being on some horrible roller coaster. I don’t know where
this is going to take me, I don’t know how bad I’m going to get. I’ve spoken to a woman who helped me in the past. I suppose if you’d just bear with me.’

‘I’ll bear with you.’

‘Even if I have to go into hospital? I mean, a psychiatric hospital.’

‘Even if you have to go into hospital. Any kind of hospital.’

‘Why are you so nice to me?’

‘Like I said earlier, I … hold you in very high regard.’

That made me laugh. ‘Look, I have to go now.’

Quickly he stood up. ‘Do you?’ He sounded alarmed.

‘I’ve got to see this thing with Wayne through. I’m going to keep at it until ten o’clock tomorrow morning – that’s when they’ll issue the press release cancelling the gigs. After that I’ll focus on the … my … other stuff, the hospital and all.’

‘I don’t know …’

‘Really, Artie. It’s okay. I’m not going to do … anything. I thought I might but the urge has gone off me.’

‘Where are you going now?’

‘Back to Wayne’s, I suppose. I don’t know what else to do. It all seems a bit … like it’s not going to happen. But I’ll go there anyway.’

I’d just let myself into Wayne’s when John Joseph Hartley rang me. Now,
there
was a first. He didn’t bother with pleasantries. ‘Have those phone records come?’

‘No.’

‘What kind of useless fucker did you pick?’

‘Language!’ I tutted. ‘And you so devout.’

‘When they come,’ he said, ‘you’re to share them with Walter Wolcott.’

‘Grand.’ Not a chance. I’d just lie and say they hadn’t come.

‘And you can’t lie and say you haven’t got them when you
have. Jay Parker paid for that information. By rights, it’s his, not yours.’

Fine. I’d just edit the report so that Wolcott only got the obvious numbers.

‘You’ve to email Walter Wolcott
exactly
what you get.’

‘Can’t do that,’ I said. ‘I’ve to protect my source.’

‘Don’t fuck with me. I know you can send the info without showing where it came from.’

‘Yeah, okay. Anyway, it hasn’t arrived yet.’

I waited for John Joseph to shout and yell and demand urgent action, but he said nothing. I think we all knew it was too late.

And then, not ten minutes later, the information arrived!

Tons and tons of it. Jesus Christ, it was mind-boggling. As the information unspooled on to my phone’s little screen, I considered driving to Mum’s so I could download it on to a proper computer in order to read it better, but I was too excited. I couldn’t bear the wait and I didn’t trust myself to drive with due care and attention.