Ask No Questions

by Hartley, Lisa

  ‘You’d already got rid of Charlie Flynn’s parents. Then Sam, Glen Walker … You couldn’t stop until everyone was dead, because any one of them could have exposed you.’ She wiped blood from her nose with her hand. ‘All those deaths, and for what? To save your reputation? A reputation you didn’t deserve.’

  Nasenby let out a roar, an animalistic bellow of fury. He threw himself towards her, wrenching her arm behind her back, ramming the gun against her temple. Caelan froze, breathing hard, knowing he would kill her without a second thought.

  ‘I admired you, Michael,’ she managed to gasp. ‘I respected you.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t you? I’m the best there is. I get results. When I tell everyone how you and your sidekick barged in here and attacked me, I’ll be believed. What are you doing here, anyway? You’re supposed to be locked up.’

  He twisted her arm, wrenching it in its socket until Caelan thought she would pass out with the pain. She had to keep him talking. ‘Because I murdered Sam, killed Charlie, Ronnie and everyone else? Maybe you’re not as convincing as you thought.’

  It was a risk, and she knew it. He pressed his mouth against her ear, his breath wet and hot. ‘I think I am, Caelan. I convinced Lambourne to kill Nicky, didn’t I?’

  Caelan’s mouth opened, but for a second she couldn’t speak. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘You heard me. The way she looked at me sometimes – she knew, I was sure of it. She had to disappear, and Lambourne was only too happy to oblige.’ He grabbed Caelan’s ponytail, gave it a savage twist. ‘Never mind, I’m sure the apartment she left you was a comfort.’

  He released his grip, shoved her away. As she sprawled across the floor, he smiled down at her, raising the gun.

  ‘It’s regrettable, Caelan. You were keen, clever. Promising. I was pleased when you retired. Too smart for your own good. Pity you came back.’

  He laughed, pointing the gun at her head. Caelan closed her eyes, wondering where the hell her backup was. A gunshot shattered the air, the window behind her exploded.

  The world disappeared.

  33

  Elizabeth Beckett was standing over her when Caelan opened her eyes. She looked around – white walls, gaudy curtains. Unsettling smells in the air. Hospital. She focused on Beckett.

  ‘I’m not dead then.’ The amount of pain she was in confirmed it.

  Beckett laughed. ‘Not quite. Neither is Ewan.’

  Caelan’s heart thumped. Ewan. She’d forgotten about him. ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘He’ll live; the vest protected him, but he’s still in a mess. He’s not happy he was forced to stay on the ground while Nasenby was beating the shit out of you.’

  Caelan managed a laugh. ‘Seemed a sensible move to me.’

  Beckett shrugged. ‘It saved his life. Nasenby obviously wasn’t expecting bulletproof vests until he realised you were wearing one.’

  ‘He should have been, though he wasn’t expecting us to be on to him either. Even when I showed him that the figure was wearing a wedding ring, he still frowned, shook his head and said he couldn’t see it.’

  Beckett shrugged. ‘His arrogance blinded him to the fact that we were getting closer and closer to the truth.’ She paused, blinked. ‘You did well.’

  ‘Anyone might have noticed the ring.’

  ‘But they didn’t. I’d watched the footage, so had Ian, as well as the technicians. We all missed it.’

  Caelan turned her head. She didn’t want praise, didn’t deserve it. ‘Is he dead?’

  ‘Nasenby? No. The shot took him down, but he was in no danger of serious injury. He’s still maintaining his innocence.’

  ‘Even though you heard every word he said?’ Caelan reached up to her ponytail, felt for the bobble that held it in place. ‘Clever trick, this.’

  Beckett held out her hand, examined the tiny length of elastic and the silvery bead attached to it. ‘I can’t see the transmitter, and I know it’s there. Your plan worked a treat.’

  ‘Not really. He didn’t confess.’

  ‘As good as – what he said was pretty damning. Wait until we get him in an interview room. He won’t be so smug on the other side of the table.’ Beckett bared her teeth. ‘I’m sorry I had to keep you in the dark for so long. I hope you understand why it was necessary.’

  ‘You lied to me.’

  Beckett bit her lip. ‘Occasionally. I didn’t want you storming off to confront Nasenby, or Richard Adamson if he turned out to be our man. I know you’re close to both of them.’

  ‘Not close enough.’

  Beckett checked her watch. ‘I think you’ll be allowed to leave soon; they’re happy there’s no concussion. Take some leave. I’ll stay in touch, but I don’t want to see you for a couple of weeks.’ She smiled. ‘Maybe go on holiday, or spend some time at home.’

  Tears blurred Caelan’s vision for a second, and she blinked them away. ‘I want to see Nasenby interviewed.’

  ‘You can watch the recordings.’

  Caelan didn’t have the energy to argue. ‘Do you think he killed Lambourne?’

  Beckett sighed. ‘I think we can both guess the answer. We’ll ask him. Now, I need to get back to the office.’ She began to walk towards the door. ‘I’ll call you later, update you on Ewan’s progress. I want you to go home.’

  ‘But—’

  At once, Beckett was stern. ‘I’m ordering you, Caelan. You need to stay away while we clear up this mess.’

  Caelan collapsed back onto the pillows, knowing when she was beaten. ‘Fine.’

  Beckett nodded, all smiles again. ‘Well done today.’

  ‘Can I ask one more question?’

  A sigh. ‘Make it quick.’

  ‘The anonymous phone call, the one saying Lambourne was back in the country. Did you make it, or did Ian?’

  Beckett tutted, thinned her lips. ‘I couldn’t possibly comment. Don’t mention that again, Caelan, not if you know what’s good for you.’

  Epilogue

  Three hours later, Caelan climbed slowly out of the taxi and staggered towards her building. Jitesh was behind the desk and he looked up, concern clear on his face when he saw her bandaged head, her battered face and pained movements.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  She tried a smile. Winced. ‘I’m fine. A little sore.’

  He glanced over his shoulder, lowered his voice. ‘Did the police do that?’

  Caelan laughed, her throat aching. ‘Shall I tell you a secret, Jitesh? I am the police. Keep it to yourself, though.’ She limped over to the desk. ‘Thanks again for what you did.’

  ‘No problem. No bother at all.’

  She dropped an envelope in front of him. ‘A thank-you present.’

  Frowning now, he picked it up, looked inside. ‘No. Thank you, but I can’t.’

  Caelan waved his protestations away. ‘You saw the police take me away, but you were a good enough friend to still do me a huge favour, one that could have lost you your job. Take the money, Jitesh. Please.’

  ‘I don’t like to.’

  ‘Well, I’m not taking it back.’ She stepped away, bruises aching, the stitches in her head beginning to itch under the dressing.

  ‘Do you need a hand to get upstairs?’

  ‘I’ll be okay, thanks.’

  She wished him goodnight, shuffled towards the lift. As the doors closed, she leant against the wall, suddenly exhausted.

  The flat was cold, and as she moved slowly through the rooms, she switched on every light. She ordered a pizza, called down to tell Jitesh she was expecting a delivery, then got into the shower, being careful to keep her bandages dry. She longed to have a bath, but knew she would struggle to climb out with her bruised, aching limbs and pounding head.

  As she pulled on Nicky’s old pyjamas and a thick pair of socks, the doorbell rang. She staggered over, pulled the door open without bothering to check the peephole, knowing Jitesh would have let the delivery driver in.

  Nicky stood there holding a pizza box,
her expression guarded. Caelan yelped, staggered, clutching at the door frame as Nicky hurried forward and grabbed her.

  ‘All right, you’re okay. I’ve got you,’ Nicky was saying. The pizza was on the floor, and through her confusion Caelan wondered whether the bang on the head she’d received had been more serious than the doctors had realised. Nicky was still holding her, staring into her eyes. Caelan gazed back. She looked real; the arms around her felt real. There was concern in Nicky’s eyes as she saw the dressing, the bruising on her face.

  ‘It’s me, Caelan. I’m here,’ she whispered. ‘I know it’s a shock …’

  ‘Nicky, I don’t …’

  Caelan’s stomach heaved, the floor rushing towards her as her knees gave way. Nicky hauled her into the flat, slamming the door behind them. ‘It’s me, Caelan, it’s okay.’

  ‘You’re dead,’ Caelan said, her voice tiny. ‘I saw you die.’

  Nicky shook her head, tears in her eyes, her lips trembling. ‘I’m fine, but I had to go away for a while. It was a set-up, Caelan. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I don’t understand. You pretended? How could you … how could you do that? I thought you were dead. I held you, knelt in your blood, tried to help you. Sam had to drag me away; I didn’t want to leave you.’

  Nicky was sobbing now. ‘I know, I remember.’

  ‘How could you? How could you let me think you were dead?’ Dazed, Caelan looked around her, remembering. ‘But this is your flat, not mine. If you’re alive … Jesus, Nicky. I went to your funeral. Your family were devastated too.’

  ‘They know.’ She swallowed hard. ‘They didn’t, but they do now.’

  ‘And they’ve accepted it? You let them think you were dead and they’ve forgiven you?’

  Nicky bowed her head. ‘Not exactly. Listen to me, Caelan, I had no choice.’

  ‘Fuck off, Nicky, of course you did.’

  ‘No. I had to go. I suspected something wasn’t right. People were already dead; I knew I’d be next. I did some preliminary work, went to Beckett. She offered me a safe place to stay, and took over.’

  ‘Did Ian know?’

  ‘Penrith? You’d have to ask him.’

  Caelan gaped at her. This was too much. He did, she knew it. ‘You’re telling me Beckett knew about Nasenby from the beginning? She lied to me all along?’

  Nicky shook her head, her eyes pleading, willing Caelan to understand. ‘We didn’t know who it was. She wanted time, a chance to begin some discreet investigations. She didn’t think I would be safe, so we … we arranged for me to disappear for a while.’

  ‘Disappear? You died, you fucking died. All the blood …’ Caelan shook her head, speechless.

  ‘Pig’s blood, I think. I had it ready, a pump and tube …’

  ‘Ready?’ Caelan stared at her. ‘How did you know Lambourne would attack you?’

  ‘I didn’t, but if there was a chance to make it look as though he’d killed me, I had to be ready. Lambourne barely touched me; he just wanted me out of the way. He didn’t hurt me.’ Nicky shook her head, helpless.

  ‘He didn’t hurt you? You lay there gasping and choking, letting me believe you were dying, and he hardly touched you? I blamed myself for not saving you, have done ever since, and you were in a safe house somewhere?’

  ‘I—’

  ‘I went to your funeral, grieved for you, dragged myself back here to find Lambourne, to make him pay.’ Caelan wiped a hand across her eyes, barely able to force the words out. ‘And then you turn up here like nothing’s happened? Did you think I was going to be pleased to see you?’ She turned away, shoulders heaving. Nicky was sobbing silently, her body shaking.

  ‘It wasn’t meant to be like this. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry, Caelan.’

  ‘You’re sorry.’ Caelan strode through to the bedroom, stripped off the pyjamas, pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Nicky watched, her hand over her mouth, silently weeping. Caelan grabbed her bag, her keys.

  ‘Caelan, please. Where are you going?’ Nicky hurried after her as Caelan strode towards the door.

  Caelan turned back to face her, tears soaking her cheeks. ‘I don’t know, but I can’t stay here.’

  She slammed the door behind her, limped down the stairs, and went out into the night.

  First published in the United Kingdom in 2017 by Canelo

  Canelo Digital Publishing Limited

  57 Shepherds Lane

  Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU

  United Kingdom

  Copyright © Lisa Hartley, 2017

  The moral right of Lisa Hartley to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 9781911420668

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