by R. J. Parker
‘Being followed?’ the driver asked jokingly.
She turned to the front again but didn’t respond, keeping her eye on the wing mirror.
Was she really going to wait for a message while Elliot was in danger? But what could the police do in the meantime? They could trace a call though. Maybe that was the only way to find out where he’d been taken. Turn around. Go back.
Leah clutched her overnight bag tightly in her lap. She looked down and saw her knuckles white around the straps.
‘Sure nobody’s after you?’ But this time the driver didn’t sound so jovial. He eyed the bag.
‘Just in a hurry.’
He nodded, unconvinced, and returned his attention to the road.
But she wasn’t in a hurry. When she got out the other end, she didn’t have the slightest idea what she was going to do.
It seemed only a few seconds between them leaving Middleton and the cab heading back down Plough Lane. It felt like a lifetime ago that she’d hit the deer there, but it was less than twenty-four hours.
As they rounded the bend, Leah was dismayed to see that the animal still hadn’t been removed.
‘Whoah.’ The driver swerved around it.
Leah registered that it had been glanced by other cars and that its increasingly battered carcass had been turned to a different position.
As they passed it, she recalled its last misty breath trailing away into the darkness.
‘Poor fella.’ The driver regarded the animal in his rear-view.
Leah kept silent, surveyed the right side of the road. She could make out the tyre marks she’d made by the overhanging briers and up ahead she could see there were still two patrol cars, Elliot’s Vauxhall and a large white van outside Alice Booth’s house. Were they removing the body?
Leah’s phone rang. She quickly took it out and checked the screen.
ELLIOT
She answered and clasped it to her left ear so it was furthest away from the driver.
‘Leah.’ It was him, whispering.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Are you alone?’ His voice sounded strange, echoey. Was he on speaker?
‘Yes. Just … I’m heading home in a cab.’
‘I can only talk to you alone,’ he gasped.
‘What’s happening? Where are you?’
‘Alone.’ He barely squeezed out the word.
‘Pull over.’ Leah told the driver.
‘What for?’
‘This is where I want to get out.’
‘I can’t drop you here. It’s a main road.’
‘Come on, the traffic’s stopping at the lights.’ She indicated the line of cars decelerating in front of them.
‘You said Forley.’
Leah produced her credit card. ‘Charge me double. Just let me out.’
The driver slowed to a standstill, quickly scanned the card and Leah was out of the vehicle as soon as he handed it back to her.
‘Stand on the other side of the road!’ he yelled after her.
The car behind beeped as she carried her bag over to the grass bank.
‘Are you still there?’ Leah pressed the phone hard to her ear as engines accelerated. She stepped up onto the bank. She was about fifty yards from the police cars outside Alice Booth’s house.
An inaudible gasp from Elliot.
‘Elliot!’
‘How did it go with the police?’ He choked out the words.
‘What’s happening? Where are you?’
‘Just answer the question,’ he hissed.
‘I told them nothing.’ Her bag dropped onto the grass.
‘You mustn’t. Promise me.’
Was Tate listening? ‘I promise. I promise. They took me to the park and then the station. I got out of there as soon as I could. They don’t know about the texts.’
Again Elliot became incoherent, sounded like he was struggling for air.
‘Don’t touch him!’ she yelled over the cars.
Silence.
Had the phone been hung up? ‘Elliot? Elliot?’
But she could still hear the atmosphere, discerned a sliding sound and then an impact on the mouthpiece.
‘Answer me. Elliot?’
The next voice was a familiar one. And it was still calm and accommodating. ‘Leah Talbot, you have to let me explain.’
Chapter Thirty-Two
Leah took another step back from the traffic and felt sharp branches against her back. Martin Tate’s breath lightly boomed against her ear and it seemed to blow cold inside her. ‘Please, don’t harm him.’
‘We’re just getting to know each other.’ There wasn’t a trace of humour in the response. He said it defensively, as if she’d somehow interrupted.
She managed to swallow and moisten her throat. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘I needed to know more about the man you married.’
She ignored the implications of that. ‘Please, let him go. I did as you asked. I didn’t mention your messages to the police.’
‘But you’ve spent half the day with them. How did that happen?’
‘They were there when I went back to Alice Booth’s house.’
‘Why did you go there?’
‘To give you a gift.’
A pause. ‘What did you bring me?’
‘A bottle of wine.’
‘That’s most thoughtful but really unnecessary.’ It sounded like what he would have said if things had gone as she’d envisioned that morning. If he’d answered the door. If it had actually been his home.
‘The police started asking me questions.’
‘Sorry. I was surprised they were on the case so soon.’ He sounded genuinely apologetic. ‘I didn’t mean for you to go through that.’
‘That’s … OK.’ Leah wanted to scream at him. A sane person couldn’t hold the sort of conversation they were having.
‘When you left the umbrella behind, I was convinced you wouldn’t come back.’
‘I just wanted to say thank you. That was all.’ She fought to keep her voice steady.
‘Did the police say how they came to be summoned to the house?’ he asked, casually.
‘The cleaner let herself in.’
No response.
Was he chiding himself for the mistake? ‘I only told the police what happened. I’ve done as you said since.’
‘They wanted you to point me out at the park.’ It was a statement not a question.
‘Yes.’ She knew he’d been there but how close?
‘I wasn’t ever going to hand myself in. I needed to see the people who are looking for me. Put a face to a name. Who’s in charge of the investigation?’
‘DI Byrne.’
‘Is she treating you OK?’
So he’d seen her. ‘Yes. When are you going to let Elliot go?’
‘I haven’t decided.’ He suddenly sounded irritable.
Leah had to keep him on the phone. ‘Is he OK?’
‘He’s fine,’ he answered dismissively, as if Elliot was an irrelevance.
‘Can I speak to him?’
‘Did you speak to him last night?’
‘When I got home?’
‘Yes. On Valentine’s Day. After you’d spent the night fending for yourself on a dangerous road. You had a chance then. Did you talk about me?’
Leah wondered what Elliot was making of their exchange. ‘Yes.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘I told him everything that happened.’ But she knew where he was headed.
‘Everything?’
‘Yes.’
A short silence. ‘And you told him you were driving over to see me this morning?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’ He almost spoke over her answer.
‘Please, just let him go.’
‘I don’t think he knows.’
‘About what?’
‘About us.’
Leah felt the sibilance of his last word slither over her. ‘There is no
us.’ But Leah regretted her reply as soon as she’d said it.
‘I think somebody’s deluding themselves.’
‘Where are you holding Elliot?’
‘I told you, he’s fine,’ he sounded irked again. ‘I’ll let you speak to him again soon.’
‘Why not now?’
‘Because now we’re in the middle of having a conversation. And it’s probably better for Elliot, and certainly less awkward for you, if he earwigs what we’re saying and draws his own conclusions. It’s going to be tough for him. But this has to happen sooner or later.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘What’s going to be tough for Elliot?’ Leah demanded.
‘From his expression I would say he already knows.’
Leah closed her eyes so she could focus on their conversation. ‘I’ll do anything. Just let him go.’
‘Anything?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded abstractedly, tried to block out the stream of traffic.
‘Have you any concept of what that could mean?’
‘Just tell me what you want.’
‘You clearly value Elliot, even if he doesn’t value you.’
Leah guessed his loud reply was for Elliot’s benefit. Was he bound? ‘I promise, I won’t tell the police.’
‘But what have you already told them?’
‘Just … what happened last night.’
‘So you described me?’
‘Yes.’ There was no point in her lying about that.
‘Did you tell them that you kissed me?’
Leah clenched her jaw. Imagined Elliot listening in.
‘What do you think would have happened if you’d completely succumbed to the moment?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘Did Elliot ask you where you’d been last night or did he not care?’
‘Let me speak to him.’
‘If you hadn’t come home, would he even have cared then?’
‘Yes.’ But Leah knew what the real answer was.
‘Or was he only thinking about the woman who dropped him off?’
Leah stiffened. Tate had obviously waited outside after he’d left the house. Watched her husband as her neighbours had.
‘Did you know about Katya?’
‘Yes.’ But she hadn’t until today. And now she had her name. It wasn’t one she recognised.
‘Attractive girl. And so convenient for Elliot.’
Leah recalled how the Trents had said she’d walked away after she’d dropped Elliot off.
‘Three streets from your marital home.’ He raised his voice again, for his prisoner’s sake.
Leah could hear an incoherent exclamation. It was Elliot. ‘What did you do?’ Dread billowed inside her.
‘19a Medford Avenue. First-floor apartment. Nice place.’
Elliot was shouting against whatever covered his mouth.
‘So, you see, you shouldn’t have felt any guilt this morning. About anything you did last night.’
‘What did you do?’ Leah articulated the question that she knew Elliot was struggling to yell.
‘I could send you a photo.’
Elliot screamed louder.
‘But there’s already photos on your phone you probably still haven’t looked at.’
Leah froze. She had to open the archive but kept the handset pinned to her ear. What pictures had been sitting there all day?
‘Might be worth taking a look at those first.’
Leah couldn’t hear the cars now. ‘Tell me what you did.’ But she could hear a thudding sound, like the feet of a metal chair rocking against a stone floor.
‘Go and call on Katya. I wonder how many times Elliot’s been up and down her flight of stairs?’
‘Stop this now.’ But Leah already knew he wasn’t about to.
‘I’ll give you half an hour. Then I’ll call you again. Can you remember the address?’
‘Yes.’ She knew the road.
‘I wonder if Elliot would be quite so frantic if it was you in that apartment.’
Momentarily, she recalled how cold Elliot had been when she’d told him about the collision.
‘He does seem very agitated right now. I’ll calm him down.’
Leah heard the thudding sound getting louder. ‘Don’t touch him.’
‘After what he’s been up to? That’s very reasonable.’
‘This has nothing to do with you!’
‘Half an hour. Will that be enough time?’
‘I’ll go!’ She dragged in a breath.
‘We’ll talk soon.’
‘Wait! Stay on the line!’
But he’d cut the call.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Leah immediately hit redial and got an answering service. ‘Call me back. I’m not going anywhere until I’ve spoken with Elliot.’ She hung up and waited, blood rushing through her ears. She felt utterly isolated.
No response. She redialled the number. Answering service. She hung up again. Tate was clearly ignoring her and she was wasting time. Start walking.
If he wasn’t going to pick up, better to make for where she’d been sent. She didn’t want to be spotted by the police at Alice Booth’s though. Leah left her overnight bag where it was, traversed the grass bank and waited for a gap in the cars. While she did, she quickly opened her photo archive.
Her breath caught in her throat as soon as she saw the last clutch of images. It was her lying on the floor in Alice Booth’s kitchen, her features oblivious. She flicked back through them, the angles changing. He’d got right up close to her face with her camera.
A wave of repulsion broke through her as she imagined him crouching over her. What had been going through Tate’s mind as he’d taken them? Had he always planned for her to find them later or had he still not made his mind up about letting her go then? There was no time to consider that now. She had to focus on what she’d been told to do. There seemed little point in calling him back.
The traffic briefly ebbed, and she crossed the road, quickly trotted to the other side and headed for the lights.
A few minutes later, a handful of cars had beeped angrily at her but she’d made it there and turned left onto the path that ran beside the road and led to the roundabout on the outskirts of Forley. She tried not to think of what was waiting for her in the upstairs apartment. Concentrate on each individual step.
She went straight ahead at the roundabout. She could avoid town and take a left that would lead her to the top of Medford Avenue. But when she reached the turning, she froze. What was she walking into?
A couple pushing a pram walked by her and she vaguely registered their expressions shift from smiles to concern as they passed her. She was standing in the corner gutter staring down the road.
She was about to walk into the home of Elliot’s lover. Her obvious fear aside, shouldn’t she consider what she might find and what conclusions would be drawn from her presence there? But she had no choice. The police were out of the equation and she had to think only of Elliot’s safety.
Leah strode on, checking the number on her left. 110. The house would be on the right towards the end of the road. She crossed over and it felt like a hand was clenching her windpipe.
There were no other pedestrians in sight and a plane boomed overhead. But the sound seemed to continue resonating through her as she reached the door of number 19. It was glass and she peered through to the shared hallway beyond. Two white front doors for 19 and 19a.
Leah pulled on the handle, but the door was locked. Beside her were two buttons. The top one said M Wilson, the one below K Boyers. There was an intercom grill. She gulped and jabbed the one for K Boyers.
There was no sound when she did so, but she waited, her eyes fixed on the grill. Please, let a woman’s voice answer.
No response.
Leah pressed the button again. Harder and longer this time.
Still nothing.
What was she meant to do if she couldn’t get inside? Did Tate expect her to br
eak in? She took out her phone and dialled his number again. Answering service.
Leah tried the other button.
‘Yes?’ A male voice answered brusquely.
Leah wondered how to proceed. ‘Hello. I’m trying to get hold of Katya.’
‘Who?’ He sounded half asleep.
‘The girl who lives upstairs from you.’
‘What’s that got to do with me?’
‘She’s expecting me,’ Leah lied. ‘But I can’t raise her. I think she said her bell is on the blink. Can you just let me in so I can knock on her door?’
‘Can’t you just phone her?’
Leah thought on her feet. ‘I’m not charged up.’
There was no reply but a few seconds later, the door buzzed.
Leah pushed on it and found herself in the small hallway that smelt strongly of varnish. The front door harshly slammed behind her. Now what? The door to 19a was firmly locked. She knocked three times on it, more for the benefit of the neighbour who had let her in.
She waited, her mind suddenly blank.
‘Hello?’ A muffled woman’s voice said.
Leah was briefly confused then realised it was coming from the intercom. She opened the front door again and spoke into the grill. ‘Hello?’ She held the door open with her hand.
‘Just a minute, I’ll be down now,’ the woman said.
The intercom clunked off and Leah returned to the hallway.
A moment later, there were thuds on the stairs.
Leah stood back and her body tensed.
The door clicked as it was unlocked and then opened inwards. A tall, pale-skinned girl with her fair hair pinned into a lazy bun on her head was standing there. ‘Are you OK?’ She spoke when she realised Leah wasn’t about to.
‘I’m Leah.’
Nothing registered in the girl’s eyes.
‘Elliot’s wife.’
A half frown evaporated as realisation sunk in.
At that point Leah acknowledged that the girl was wearing a familiar green top and trousers. The word ‘Gleason’s’ was written in yellow on her breast. It was the local garden centre and she was clearly on her way into work.
But Leah had already bypassed the emotions that she should have felt. She was just glad the girl hadn’t been harmed.