The Darkness Around Her

by The Darkness Around Her (retail) (epub)

‘Stop, please, you’re hurting me.’

  ‘That’s the point. Don’t you get it?’ He pulled Bill’s arms up higher, until he screeched in pain. ‘Say it.’

  ‘Two-five-eight-zero,’ he croaked.

  Sean pushed up on his arms once more.

  ‘Yes, yes. The middle numbers on the keypad. Please stop.’

  Sean let go and Bill slumped to one side as he sucked in air. Sean tapped in the numbers and smiled when the phone came to life.

  Bill closed his eyes.

  Sean skimmed through the various apps on his phone.

  When he’d finished, he pulled at the back of the phone until it came off with a snap. He took out the battery and then the SIM card, bending that in half. He went to the window and threw it all out. It landed with a light plop into the water.

  He turned back to Bill. ‘Jayne knows you’re here, but your phone won’t track your location.’ He laughed and said to Trudy, ‘You’re all ours.’

  Trudy came behind him. ‘What do we do?’

  ‘What we always do.’

  Bill grunted with effort as he sat up straight up again. ‘Which is what?’

  ‘Whoa, what’s this?’ Trudy said, laughing. ‘Don’t you prefer surprises?’ She looked at Sean. ‘His coat needs to come off. Put it on, his baseball cap too, and drive his car away.’

  Sean opened Bill’s wallet and grinned when he saw the driving licence. ‘I know where he lives. I’ll leave it on the drive. It’ll stop people looking for him. He’s just some old man no one will miss.’

  ‘What if you’re seen?’

  ‘I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.’

  Trudy stepped closer. ‘Make sure of that. I’m doing this for you, to save you.’

  ‘And what are you going to do when I’m gone?’

  Bill looked from one to the other, his stomach churning with the thought of what was about to happen.

  ‘Bury this bastard.’

  He gripped her hands. ‘You know this might be the last time.’

  ‘No, that isn’t how it’s going to happen. Remember what you’ve always said, that we’re constantly one step ahead of the cockroaches.’ When he didn’t answer straightaway, she said, ‘That’s right, isn’t it? To keep us apart, they’ve got to prove it. And to prove it, they’ve got to find him.’

  Sean went to the knots binding Bill to the pole and tugged at them, sending pain through Bill’s shoulders again.

  Bill exhaled with relief as the knots loosened, the jabs of pain subsiding, and he tensed, ready to lash out and make one last bid to get away.

  As the ropes slipped to the ground, Bill kicked out, catching Sean on his knee, sending him crashing to the floor. Bill tried to shuffle away, desperate to get to the door, but Trudy was too fast. She leapt forward, kneeing him in the side of the head.

  The boat swirled and went out of focus as he tried to regain his feet. Someone was tugging at his coat, but he didn’t have the strength to fight back. There was someone next to him, but even in the fuzz of his semi-consciousness he recognised the sharp steel of a knife blade against his neck. He felt himself being pushed against the pole again and the ropes being tied around his wrists once more.

  ‘This thing is greasy.’

  Bill opened his eyes to see Sean putting on his baseball cap.

  Trudy straightened it and pulled it down. ‘It’s only for the cameras. You’ll look just like some old man driving home. Now go.’

  Sean glanced down at Bill one more time, and a faint smile crinkled his cheeks. ‘Later,’ he said, and left the boat.

  Trudy knelt down. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after you until he gets back. It’ll all be over soon.’

  He closed his eyes as she went towards the stern of the boat. He quelled a sob as the engine roared into life and he felt the boat begin to move along the water.

  Fifty-nine

  Dan had spent the previous hour staring at a pile of papers, as if he expected the answers to rise up from them. Since he left court he’d stalled. Faded nervous energy, and the lack of any evidence to corroborate what Peter had said, had him questioning the wisdom of letting Peter give his account.

  But then, he hadn’t made that decision; Peter had, because he wanted his voice to be heard.

  He paced in front of his apartment window as he called Jayne.

  She arrived within thirty minutes, holding two pizza boxes. As he opened the door he said, ‘I knew working with you would be bad for my health.’

  ‘We can always go somewhere classier.’

  ‘No, let’s eat.’

  He opened two beer bottles and sat down to eat.

  They ate in silence for a while before Jayne asked, ‘What next?’

  ‘I want Sean Martin in court. I want to bring him down. For Pat’s sake, if no one else’s. But,’ he said as he shrugged, ‘the police aren’t feeding me any information so I’ve no weapon I can use. The best I can hope for is a no-show. Sean Martin would stay free, but Peter’s evidence will be reported and his reputation will take a battering, as would his income.’

  Jayne drained her beer and said, ‘We haven’t heard from Bill for a while.’

  ‘He’s busy doing his own thing,’ Dan said, chewing. ‘Don’t worry about him.’

  ‘He said he was at the marina. I thought he might have called in, just to let us know if anything was happening, that’s all.’

  ‘It’ll be quiet down there. Think about it. As far as Sean is concerned, he’s going to attend court tomorrow to defend some wild accusations. Trudy too, perhaps. Do you really think they’ll do anything tonight? If they think the police are suspicious, that’s it all a trap, they’ll bluff it out until after the hearing.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe.’ She found Bill’s number in her phone and pressed dial, but it went straight to voicemail. ‘His phone’s switched off.’

  ‘He’s an old man. He won’t be glued to it.’

  She pushed her pizza to one side. ‘It’s not right. He’d have let me know.’

  They were disturbed by the ring of Dan’s phone. It was Murdoch.

  He lifted his phone and said, ‘Coincidence,’ before he answered and asked, ‘Any news?’

  ‘Dan, I’m going to send you a copy of a police notebook from when Claire Watkins went missing. It might help you tomorrow.’

  His laptop pinged behind him. Dan pointed towards it, so Jayne wandered over. Wiping her fingers on a napkin, a string of cheese dangling from her lip, she opened the email and the attachment before carrying the laptop to him.

  He read it. ‘He lied! He said he didn’t know her.’

  ‘No one knew what he was capable of back then,’ Murdoch said. ‘If we’d suspected, we’d have looked a lot closer at him.’

  ‘We know now.’

  ‘We do, Dan, and it’s a pity people at your firm were the last ones to realise.’ She clicked off before Dan could respond.

  Jayne’s mouth was filled with pizza when she asked, ‘What have you got?’

  ‘Sean Martin trapped in a lie.’

  ‘Will it be enough?’

  ‘We’ll find out tomorrow.’

  ‘No, that’s not good enough.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We can’t wait for Murdoch to do her bit. Look how long Pat has been missing, and what have they found so far? Come on, we’re going out. We need to keep looking.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Bill, to begin with. But I’ve got an idea.’

  * * *

  Bill couldn’t work out how long they’d cruised for. It seemed like hours, but he was still dazed, the boat’s interior fading and shifting in front of his eyes as he drifted in and out of consciousness. They’d been moored up for a while though, and Trudy had spent that time sitting in a chair by a small Formica table, tapping the surface with a large knife she’d taken from a drawer. The blade was long and curved, its teeth jagged. There were holes in the handles where her fingers poked through. She seemed distracted and wasn’t paying much att
ention to him.

  He tried to work out which way they’d travelled. West, was his best guess, just from the direction of the turn and what seemed like the sounds of a town they’d gone through on the way. Highford, he presumed, which meant that they were somewhere rural on the other side, where the canal cut through the fields and valleys and linked all the big towns. He could hear cars in the distance, a deep hum as if there were a lot of them, travelling fast. He knew the motorway cut a straight line across the county, whereas the canal curved and changed direction as it went from town to town.

  Bill shuffled so that he could sit upright. ‘It doesn’t have to be this way, you know.’

  Trudy looked over. ‘What’s this? Life-coaching? Don’t bother.’

  The boat jolted as someone hopped on. Trudy spun round, the knife held outwards, but she relaxed when Sean came back into the boat, still wearing Bill’s coat.

  ‘Done,’ he said. ‘No one saw me, I’m sure. Got a taxi to a mile along the towpath so we’re safe here, and no one will know he’s gone.’ He held his hand out to Trudy. ‘Give me the knife.’

  Sean went over to Bill, holding the knife outwards and twirling it around his finger. He knelt down and pushed the blade against Bill’s neck, the tip just under his ear. He could feel his skin almost giving way to the blade.

  ‘You shouldn’t move,’ Sean said, his voice a low hiss. ‘If you do, this blade will slice you open in a moment. You’ll bleed out here, and my face will be the last thing you’ll ever see. Is that how you want to go?’

  Sean reached behind Bill and untied one of his wrists but kept hold of the rope. He stood up and pulled on it, yanking Bill to his feet and kicking his feet apart. He re-tied his wrists behind his back and pulled on the bindings, forcing him upright, before pushing him forward.

  Bill stumbled to his knees, banging his head against the wall of the boat. Sean knelt down. There was spittle on his lips.

  He grabbed Bill’s shirt. ‘Come on, time to go. Are you going to stay quiet?’

  Trudy came behind them and took the blade from Sean. She pressed it back on Bill’s neck and he swallowed but stayed still. ‘He can scream, if he wants, but it will be a short one.’

  Sean laughed and then led Bill up the two steps and on to the hull of the boat.

  Bill winced when he got outside. The blood on his shirt glued the fabric to his chest and the breeze blew cold against the cut on his temple, making it sting. He needed stitches.

  Sean hopped on to the canal bank and held his hand out for him.

  Bill stayed where he was at first, until he felt the unmistakable point of the knife in his back.

  ‘Move.’

  He stepped out. Sean grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the grass. Bill stumbled to the ground, unable to hold out his arms to steady himself, until Sean yanked him to his feet again.

  They were in a field by a long curve in the canal, the nearest village far in the distance. As Bill looked round, he saw what was responsible for the steady hum of traffic. He was right, it was the motorway. There was a possibility that people would see him but, as he looked, everyone was driving past too quickly. He cast his eyes over the field and wondered whether he could get away. He could just about make out a gate on the other side of the field. If he could get to there, a passing motorist might spot him.

  The terrain was uneven though, and he was too old to sprint across a pitted field with his arms tied behind his back. They’d catch him straightaway. Ahead of him was a ruined cottage, the windows hollow, just darkness inside.

  Trudy pushed him towards it. ‘Get in.’

  The darkness swallowed him up as he followed her direction.

  Bill stopped as he allowed his eyes to adjust. The house smelled damp. There was a hallway that was just compacted dirt, the stone slabs long gone. There were remnants of wallpaper peeling from the walls. There was a stairway ahead, although some of the stairs were cracked and broken bannister struts splayed outwards like bent fingers.

  ‘Keep going,’ Trudy said.

  There was a room to his left, a kitchen, the cupboards hanging loose. To his right was an empty room, although the grand old fireplace against one wall told him that it was once the living room.

  A push to his back propelled him along the hallway and past the stairs, to where the floor turned into creaking floorboards, dust flying up as he went.

  Trudy pushed him against the wall before pulling at a door. It opened to a deeper darkness. A damp breeze blew upwards.

  A cellar.

  Trudy pulled on the ropes binding his wrists. She grunted with exertion as she propelled him through the threshold. He stumbled and, just as he got to the other side of the doorway, he was given the biggest push of all.

  The ground didn’t come when he expected. Instead, he was falling, unable to put his hands out to protect himself, his screams echoing.

  He was able to turn his body, but his back hit a concrete step as he went, and he cried out again as he tumbled downwards, his legs contorted, colours dancing in his vision. The sharp edge of a step cut into his forehead as he reached the bottom, where he lay crumpled, unable to move.

  Sixty

  The journey to the marina didn’t take long, the town-centre traffic gone. They were in Jayne’s car, the rattle of her exhaust loud as they pulled into the garden centre car park. It was deserted. There was a lone floodlight over the marina.

  Dan leaned forward to look through the windscreen. ‘I can’t see Bill’s car.’

  She pulled alongside the fence and they both got out to peer through. The marina was empty, apart from an old man working on a boat further away. Jayne banged on the gate to get the man’s attention.

  He looked up before going back to whatever he’d been doing.

  ‘Hey! Hey!’ The gate clanged as Jayne pulled on it.

  The old man ignored her for a few seconds, so Jayne said, ‘We haven’t got time to wait,’ and began to clamber up it, trying to get her foot onto the security lock so that she could hoist herself over it, despite the roll of razor wire at the top.

  ‘Jayne, what the hell?’

  ‘You’ve been buttoned up in your suit for too long.’

  She was about to try to haul herself upwards when the old man shouted, ‘Get down.’

  ‘Let me in. It’s urgent.’

  The old man put down whatever he’d been holding and started a slow walk to the gate.

  Jayne banged it again. ‘Hurry up, come on.’

  ‘Calm down. I’m slower than I used to be.’

  Jayne hopped off the gate and paced.

  As he reached the gate, he glared at both of them. ‘What’s so urgent?’

  ‘I’m looking for a man who was watching this place earlier this evening?’

  ‘Why would anyone be watching it?’

  ‘He just was. Older guy, tall, thin, in a silver Fiesta.’

  The man looked to the car park. ‘I remember him, but I don’t see a silver car. He must have left.’

  Dan stepped forward. ‘Have you been here all night?’

  ‘Most of it. I had to go for some more paint, and I went home for some food, so I’ve been away a couple of hours.’

  ‘Is Sean Martin’s boat here?’

  ‘Now, what kind of interest would you have in his boat?’

  ‘I need to know, that’s all. Can’t you tell me? Please.’

  The old man looked around the marina before shaking his head. ‘Looks like it’s gone out, but people like to go sailing at night. It’s peaceful.’

  Dan and Jayne turned away.

  Jayne put her hands on her hips and shook her head. ‘I’m worried. I know what you’ll say but I can’t help it.’

  She tried Bill’s number again. It went straight to voicemail.

  * * *

  Bill roared in pain as someone grabbed the rope that bound his wrists. It was Sean, he could tell from his grunts of exertion as he dragged him along the floor. His shirt rode up and loose dirt rubbed against his bac
k.

  Sean shoved him into the corner of the cellar. Bill tried to put his head against the floor, to somehow take away the pain, but Sean yanked him up by his shirt collar. He cried out, the agony blinding, as if he’d jarred and banged every part of his body on the way down the stairs.

  His mouth hung open as he sucked in air. There was someone in front of him. At first, he thought it was Sean, but the breaths against his face were fresher, the grip lighter.

  ‘Just let me go. Please.’ The words came between gulps.

  Before anyone could respond, the cellar was filled with light.

  Bill looked away, squinting. It was a spotlight or a bright torch.

  Trudy was kneeling in front of him. Sean was pacing on the other side of the beam, his footsteps loud crunches in the dirt, but Trudy was more poised. ‘I hope you’re not going to do anything stupid.’

  ‘I just want you to let me go.’

  Trudy turned towards where Sean had been pacing. ‘What shall we do?’

  Sean stepped away from the lamp. ‘Kill him, of course.’

  Trudy considered that for a moment, and then she shook her head. ‘No, not yet.’

  ‘Why? What purpose does he serve?’

  ‘We’ve no idea what we’re walking into when we go to court tomorrow.’

  ‘There’s no we in this.’

  ‘What the hell do you mean by that? They’ll expect me there too.’

  ‘And they’ll separate us and pick holes in our stories. If I go there on my own, there will be no inconsistencies, and if the jury believes me, you’re in the clear too.’

  Trudy thought about that. ‘That might not stop the police. We need a bargaining chip.’ She pointed to Bill. ‘That’s him.’

  ‘A hostage? The police won’t let us go just because he’s locked up in here.’

  ‘I’m not thinking of the police. Who’s behind all of this? It isn’t the police. It’s Dan Grant. If we threaten Dan, it might stop him from having a go at you in court. If he pulls his punches, he’ll lose his argument and we can go back to living our lives.’

  ‘He’ll know about us though, and he won’t let us carry on. He’ll keep coming after us.’