by Dan Scottow
As Beth’s eyes darted around the wall, taking in the photos, something occurred to her. Some of these pictures were old. Years old.
Taken long before Vicky or Mikey arrived on the scene. How the hell did he have these? It made no sense. Then it hit her.
He had been watching her for years.
Vicky hadn’t been lying. Michael Noakes had found her on his own. But how? Beth’s mind raced as she tried to figure it out. She had no social media, no pictures online. Nothing alluding to her actual identity anywhere. So how did Mikey manage to track her down?
She couldn’t think of any plausible explanation. She slammed her hand against the wall, cursing under her breath. Something caught her eye. A photo she hadn’t noticed earlier.
Daisy, Peter and Charlie. Coming out from Derek’s flat in town.
He had found them.
He knew where her kids were. She felt sick as the realisation set in.
Her family weren’t safe.
A muffled sound drew Beth’s attention away from her wall of fame. A cough. Close by. She poked her head out of the room, peering to her left down towards the front door. A key in the lock set her heart racing. Her eyes darted in panic around the room. The stairs were too far. She couldn’t risk getting caught. Instead, she stepped back into the cupboard, pulling the door behind her, flicking off the light. She heard someone enter the flat.
Footsteps on the wooden floor grew closer. Hurried.
He’d forgotten something.
Beth held her breath as she heard him opening cupboards, closing them again and swearing under his breath. There was nothing in this room, so Beth hoped she was safe for now. She hadn’t shut the door entirely and prayed that Mikey wouldn’t notice. Would he remember that it had been closed when he left? Beth would. But her paranoia about being discovered had trained her brain to pick up these tiny details over the years.
She heard him rush down the cast-iron stairs. As he grew quieter, she realised she had left the bedroom light on. She’d also left the window wide open. Most people would notice that.
Sweat formed on her brow, her heart rate increased. Her only option was to make a run for it out of the flat. She pushed the door slowly open, taking a step out into the kitchen, allowing herself to let out a long breath. Before she had a chance to get anywhere, she heard a footstep on the bottom rung of the spiral stairs.
‘Hello?’ she heard Mikey’s voice call almost playfully from down below.
She stepped back into the cupboard, pulling the door to.
‘Kitty? Is that you?’ The Birmingham accent he had clearly been hiding, now laced every word.
The clunk of another foot on the next step.
‘I know you’re here.’
The voice that Beth had once found so attractive now filled her with terror and loathing. Hearing him call that name. She shivered.
Another thud on the steps.
‘I’m guessing Vicky spilled the beans. That poor cow. I think she believed I might actually be interested in her.’
One more clunk.
‘But then again. So did you.’ He laughed.
It crushed Beth to hear him say it. As much as she wished it didn’t.
A few more steps.
‘Where – are – you?’ A sing-song voice. He was toying with her.
The sick bastard was enjoying this. A final clunk, and then the sound of his feet on the laminate.
He’d reached the top.
Beth held her breath. The sweat ran down her face, down the back of her neck. She gripped on to the door handle with clammy hands. Fear permeated through her entire body. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t make her legs move. They felt like slabs of concrete, bolted to the floor.
‘Kitty… you going to come out and play?’
She shuddered. She had worked so hard to leave that person behind. Nobody had the right to call her that.
‘Are you scared, Kitty?’
She heard two tentative steps across the kitchen floor. Mikey paused again. He was taking his time. Relishing the game.
‘Are you scared like my brother would have been when you took him away from our mother?’
A couple more steps towards the cupboard.
‘Was he scared? Or did he think it was a game? At what point do you think he stopped smiling?’
Beth glanced around the cupboard, searching for something she could use as a weapon. The only object was the chair. And there wasn’t enough space to swing it. She clutched the handle.
Another couple of footsteps across the wooden floor.
‘Do you think a kid Billy’s age would have known he was going to die? I can’t imagine it from his perspective. I don’t think any of us can. He must have been… terrified.’
The footsteps stopped. He was standing right outside the door. Beth could hear him breathing he was so close.
‘Are you terrified now, Kitty?’ Mikey whispered through the door.
Beth’s fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. She pushed the door as hard as she could. There was a loud whack and a crunching sound as it connected with Mikey’s nose. He let out a shriek, and Beth heard him collapse to the ground.
She pushed again, and the door collided with his skull. She slipped through, glancing down at him. He was writhing around, blood pooling on the floor by his head. More had spattered over the wall.
Beth turned and hurried towards the front, but a powerful hand grabbed at her ankle. She turned, kicking out with her free foot. It collided with his arm, then his face. She kicked again, her foot connecting hard with the side of his head this time, and he let go. She took the chance and ran.
As she reached the door, he shouted after her.
‘Come back here, you bitch! I know where you live! You hear me? I know where your fucking family are hiding!’
She fumbled with the latch, her hands shaking. The adrenaline surged through her as the door swung open and she fell out onto the concrete steps, tumbling down them onto the path. She grazed her palms, but she was grateful to be outside. She gulped down air, greedily filling her lungs.
Mikey was still yelling from inside the flat. She looked back over her shoulder and saw he was getting up from the floor.
She climbed to her feet before Mikey had a chance to catch her, and bolted towards her car. As she unlocked it and threw the door open, Mikey barrelled outside, still howling after her.
The punters outside the pub stopped their conversation, staring at Beth in bewilderment, then back down the street at Mikey.
‘Call the police!’ she screamed at them. ‘He’s trying to kill me. He’s got a gun!’ The threat of a firearm would hopefully convince them to get help.
She clambered into the driver’s seat and started the engine. As she screeched away, she saw Mikey running down the middle of the road after her. One of the guys outside the pub had his phone pressed to his ear, a panicked expression on his face.
Beth’s heart pounded as she drove.
52
The buzz of the phone woke Charlie from a brief nap on the sofa. His eyes darted around Derek’s flat, momentarily forgetting where he was.
The confusion faded as he recalled what had become of his perfect life.
He grabbed his mobile. He didn’t recognise the number on the screen.
‘Hello?’ he grunted.
‘Mr Carter?’
‘Who’s this?’
‘It’s DI Burns from Sussex Police. We spoke the other day regarding the incident at your office.’
‘Oh, yes, hi.’ Charlie’s register altered immediately.
‘Further to our discussion I wanted to let you know that we did manage to lift a partial print from the perfume bottle.’
Charlie held his breath. He felt his heart speed up.
‘Okay.’
‘Can you come into the station, please? It might be best if you bring your wife and family in too.’
‘It’s not convenient right now.’
‘Mr Carter, given what you tol
d me about your wife’s identity, I think it’s important that you and your family get somewhere safe. In light of our new information, I really think you need to come in.’
‘And were you thinking about my wife and family’s safety when the information was leaked?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘It’s out. Everyone knows. Our kids know. This has torn us apart.’
The line was quiet for a moment. Charlie could hear DI Burns breathing down the phone.
‘Mr Carter, I have behaved with complete discretion. Any number of staff at the station would have been privy to that information. If there has indeed been a leak as you suggest, I can assure you that it did not come from myself.’
She said myself instead of me, the way people did because they thought it made them sound more intelligent. Charlie resisted the temptation to correct her.
‘If you say so. I’d be having a word with your officers if I were you.’
Another pause.
‘We can discuss this when you come in. If you and your wife would like to make a complaint, then I can certainly put you in touch with the right people.’
The way she said wife, Charlie could tell she didn’t give a shit. She was glad Beth was suffering.
‘Yeah, and I’m sure Beth would be treated totally fairly.’
Charlie heard a sigh.
‘Mr Carter will you come to the station or not?’
‘Why? Who did the print belong to?’
‘It was Kieran Taylor’s.’
53
Happy families, strolling on the promenade in the early-evening sun, whizzed past Beth’s passenger-side window. Children with balloons. Fathers carrying laughing toddlers on their shoulders. Adoring mothers dawdling behind with prams. Each snapshot a reminder of what Beth had lost; what she must now try to protect.
She had to get to Charlie. Had to warn him. She’d tried to ring him twice, but it had gone straight to voicemail. She approached a pedestrian crossing, and the light turned red. Slamming her foot down, she sped through, much to the disgust of an elderly lady with a Zimmer frame.
A siren drew her attention. A police car was following behind and wanted her to pull in.
‘Shit!’ she cursed under her breath.
For a moment she considered driving away, but she knew that wasn’t wise. Reluctantly she pulled over to the side of the road. As the car parked up behind her, she dialled Margot’s number.
‘Hello, darling!’ Margot’s dulcet tones seeped into Beth’s ear like warm treacle.
‘Margot, I don’t have time to explain, but can you to do me a favour. It’s an emergency,’ Beth exclaimed down the phone.
‘Okay. What is it?’
‘I need you to get to Charlie and the kids. They’re staying at his boss’s flat. Can you get there immediately and get them away? Take them somewhere safe. Take them to your place, anywhere. And make sure you aren’t followed.’
‘Beth, what on earth is going on?’
‘I’ll explain when I see you, but for now can you do this for me right away, please?’
‘Of course, sweetie.’
‘Thank you. I’ll text you the address as soon as I hang up.’
She pressed the end-call button and hammered out the address into a message, as a surly-looking police officer, who appeared adolescent, rapped on the window with his knuckle.
Beth opened it, eyeing his name badge, which identified him as Constable Drake.
‘Hello, madam. Can I ask if you know what the speed limit is along this road?’
Beth hesitated. ‘Yes.’
‘And can I ask what speed you were doing?’
‘I… I think I was…’ she stuttered. It didn’t really matter what she replied, whatever she said she was screwed.
‘And are you also aware that you ran a red light back there, narrowly missing pedestrians who had started to cross the road?’
‘Yes, I’m sorry about that.’
‘May I have your driving licence, please?’
She pulled her purse from her bag and handed the constable her photocard.
‘Beth Carter?’ Something about his tone set her on edge. Her heart pounded.
‘Mrs Carter, would you get out of the car for me?’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m asking you to. And I’m a police officer.’
‘Look, I’m in a bit of a rush. Could you give me the ticket and let’s get this over with?’
‘Can you step out of the vehicle, now.’ His tone was curt. Beth decided it was pointless arguing. She climbed out. He pulled something from his belt.
‘Have you been drinking, Mrs Carter?’
‘No, of course I haven’t.’
‘I’m pretty sure I can smell alcohol from you, so I’m going to ask you to provide a breath sample.’
‘You are wasting both of our time. You know as well as I do that you can’t smell anything. You’re picking on me because… because of my name.’
‘I don’t know what you mean, madam. I’m simply doing my job. Are you refusing to provide me with a sample?’
Beth’s shoulders slumped.
‘No. I’m not.’
Constable Drake slowly performed the charade, breathalysing Beth. Passers-by smirked as they stared at her. She felt ashamed, which was ridiculous, as she knew she was completely sober. The officer held out the apparatus, and Beth blew into the tube, while he smiled at her, knowingly.
The test was negative. No surprises.
‘Can I go now?’ Beth said impatiently.
Drake eyed her, then looked at her Range Rover.
‘Nice car,’ he drawled. ‘No, you can’t go yet. I need to radio in and get a check on your vehicle.’
Beth tutted as the officer turned his back to her and walked away.
‘This is harassment,’ she shouted after him.
He stopped, turning back to face Beth.
‘Really? And why would I be harassing you?’
‘Because you know who I am.’
Drake laughed but said nothing. He turned and continued walking to his car. He pulled his radio from his belt and said something quietly so Beth couldn’t hear. There was a crackled reply. Beth craned her head a little to hear. But it was no use, he was too far away. The officer frowned as he listened, then returned to Beth.
‘Mrs Carter, one of my superiors has asked if you can accompany me to the station.’
‘I have done nothing wrong.’
‘That’s not entirely true, is it? You were speeding, and you ran a red light. But that’s neither here nor there. This is unrelated. Apparently, they need to talk to you about something else.’
Beth’s mind raced as she wondered what it could be. Constable Drake must have seen the panic on her face.
‘You can take your own car and follow me. You are not under arrest. I’ll give you your ticket at the station.’
‘Okay.’
Drake returned to his vehicle, starting the engine. Beth climbed into her front seat, briefly checking her phone before doing the same. There was nothing from Margot. The police car pulled away and overtook her, and Beth pulled out behind him, driving exemplarily.
Her phone buzzed as the cars approached the station. Officer Drake parked up and got out, walking in through the main doors. Beth pulled in, grabbing her mobile quickly.
Margot.
‘Hello.’
‘Beth, I’m at the apartment. But…’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘It could be nothing, but I’m outside, and the front door is wide open. I’ve pressed the buzzer but there doesn’t seem to be anyone in.’
A wave of fear washed over Beth, so strong that she felt physically sick.
‘I didn’t want to just walk in. I thought it would be best to call you first.’
‘Can you go in?’
‘Sure, no problem.’
‘Be careful.’
Beth heard the sound of Margot’s stilettos on concrete.
‘I’m go
ing to buzz again, in case they didn’t hear.’
Beth heard the doorbell echo down the phone, as Margot called out, ‘Hello, Charlie?’
There were muffled noises, and Beth pictured Margot pushing the door and stepping inside the property. More footsteps.
‘Oh my God!’ Margot’s voice sounded panicked. Afraid.
‘What is it?’
No reply.
‘Margot? What’s going on?’ Beth yelled into the phone.
Beth heard sounds of a scuffle, heavy breathing, then Margot screamed.
‘Please, no… DON’T!’
There was a clatter, as if the handset had fallen to the floor.
The line went dead.
54
Beth sat staring at her phone. Afraid to breathe, afraid to move. Her jaw hung open in disbelief.
Her family were in grave danger. And what’s more, she had put Margot, her only friend, in the path of that danger and something had happened to her. Something bad.
She glanced over to the double doors leading into the police station. She could make out the figure of Constable Drake waiting impatiently for her inside. She started her engine and pulled away, watching in her rear-view mirror as the officer rushed outside, waving his arms in frustration.
It was a short drive to the apartment. She drove quickly but nervously. Two tickets in one afternoon would not be ideal, but that was the least of her worries.
Nothing mattered anymore apart from the safety of her family, and Margot.
She screeched to a halt by the curb outside Derek’s flat. Margot’s silver TT sat abandoned a few spaces down, hazard lights blinking. Beth glanced at it, noting the driver’s side door was ajar.
As she approached the apartment, it was as Margot had reported. The front door was open. Beth climbed the concrete steps. ‘Hello,’ she called, her voice catching in her throat, the resulting sound being rather pathetic.
Silence.
She pushed and the door creaked slowly as it opened inwards. Everything appeared normal. No overturned furniture. No bloodied note pinned to the wall.