by Tara Lyons
‘Don’t tell her you can help her,’ Hamilton whispered again. ‘You can’t understand what she’s going through now. But explain you’re here for her now and you’re sorry.’
He heard Valerie inhale loudly, as though new air would give her the strength she needed to talk to her daughter. Could two people who were so close really have lost the ability to understand each other? Is that what happened between me and Maggie?
‘Grace, darling.’ Valerie fell over her own words and paused for a few seconds. ‘I heard about what happened to Gabe and I … I’m sorry—’
‘Sorry for what? Letting that creature into our lives … into my bed? Or for this?’ she said, gesturing the gun to her grandfather’s grave before ramming it back into the side of Fraser’s head. ‘I thought you would have waited for me, Mum.’
Valerie’s breath hitched in her chest like a newborn baby who’d just had a marathon crying session; Hamilton loosened his grip on her. ‘W-what do you mean?’
‘Grandad’s headstone.’
‘I-I … but you stopped me from visiting you. I—’
‘So it’s my fault,’ Murphy hissed and turned the gun on her mother and Hamilton. ‘You went ahead and chose the headstone and the words and … and everything without me because I wouldn’t let you visit the fucking mental hospital.’
‘I didn’t know—’
‘What? That your boyfriend tiptoed from your bed to mine in the middle of the night. Stinking of beer … it made me gag. You didn’t know that he would pull back my covers … that he would touch me.’ Murphy sucked in a lungful of air and Hamilton felt Valerie’s body shake under his body — though the cold and rain had obviously become oblivious to them all now. ‘Can you believe that a man like that could end up working in a psychiatric hospital. Full of vulnerable women … and you all say it’s me who needs help. This whole fucking world is messed up.’
‘B-b-but where is this coming from?’ Valerie’s croaky words called out. ‘I mean … why didn’t you tell me this before? Why have you never said nothing in all the years—’
‘I didn’t know,’ Murphy screamed, the gun shaking in her outstretched hand. ‘I didn’t remember.’
‘Grandad,’ Valerie whispered and sobbed.
‘He saved me … he was the only person I trusted. Then, the fucking cancer … We weren’t safe any more and Grace completely crumpled like the weakling she always was. She needed me.’ Murphy’s wide eyes roamed in various directions behind Hamilton, but he daren’t follow her gaze as the gun never faltered from its position on him and Valerie. ‘A good man was taken from this world, a man who truly protected me. You people don’t deserve the lives you were gifted with. Selfish, vile and vain … that’s what you all are. You hide behind this I want to help you line but do nothing. Nothing!’
‘Please, Gracie—’
‘Don’t. Call. Me. That.’
Peering around Valerie’s head, Hamilton witnessed the look of evil on Murphy’s face: the clenched teeth and twitching jaw and her unblinking wide, black eyes. They were losing any grip on the situation they might have had, and it seemed Valerie could well be pushing Murphy further. As he forced his brain to think of a plan, various sounds disrupted the eeriness around them and brought the area to life; vehicles screeching their brakes in the near-by distance, feet squishing in the wet mud, the rustle of clothes he knew only too well were that of bullet-proof vests and thick black attire. Even the rain fell back to a light drizzle.
‘Grace Murphy, lower your weapon to the ground.’ The booming order came from a deep male voice behind him, but Hamilton kept visual on Murphy, preparing himself to move towards Fraser when the time came.
‘Darling, please …’ Valerie whispered, and moved a foot forward. Hamilton tightened his hold around her once again and told her to be quiet. ‘Just listen to me, darling. Listen only to my voice. I’m sorry. I’m so very, very sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you, and I’m sorry you couldn’t talk to me, but I promise you I will do absolutely everything I can to protect you now. Let me prove it to you, Grace. I would do anything for you. You’re my daughter and I love you. Give me a second chance to show you.’
‘You loved that man, that evil monster, and you wouldn’t have believed me. I was just a little girl … telling tales.’
Hamilton heard the change in Murphy’s voice; an octave lower and no longer dripping with venom towards her mother. He slowly slid more to Valerie’s side, no longer blocked by the woman, and tapped her back to encourage her to keep talking. For the first time, he felt confident Valerie could calm her daughter and he could reach for the weapon. But he was aware of the noises around them growing closer and knew he’d have to make a move soon, before the armed unit rallied Murphy’s fury again.
Valerie sighed. ‘Oh, sweetheart, is that what that evil bastard told you? Of course I would have believed you. You will always be my little girl, no matter how old you get or what you do … You’re my Gracie and I hate myself for putting you here. This is my fault and I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault, Mum. It’s his … and mine and his—’ She aimed the gun fully on Hamilton and gritted her teeth again. ‘He sprouts on about help and justice, but it was him! He locked me up with that monster again. I just want to finish this now. I want to be free, Mum. From him, from you, from her … from Grace.’
‘Darling,’ Valerie said, inching forward again, ‘you’re right, this has to stop. But not like this. You’re not mad at this woman who you’ve dragged here, and you’re not mad at the police; they’re guilty of doing nothing but their jobs. You’re mad at me, and I understand that … but take it out on me, not them.’
‘Mum, stop.’
‘But I didn’t do my job, darling, my job as a mother, and I’m so sorry. I should have protected you. I should have been there for you and I should have noticed what was happening to you. I hate myself and you should hate me too. You are my only baby, all I ever wanted from this life is you. When I held you in my arms for the first time, any worry or panic I felt about being a mother just vanished. When you looked at me, with all that pure innocence and dependence, I knew I would fight against the world for you. I failed, Grace, and I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry I am, but don’t do this. Don’t do this here … here at your grandfather’s grave … shielding yourself behind him and some kind of mental illness. I’ll step up now. I’ll protect you from everything and everyone in our own bubble. No one will ever hurt you again … not while I’m around.’
Hamilton heard the crunch of twigs and metal machinery expertly moved in the hands of the armed response team. He knew they wouldn’t give Valerie much longer to talk her daughter down. They were only using it as a cover to get themselves into place, and he suddenly felt helpless in the middle of it all. Right in that moment, Hamilton understood his own daughter might have felt as torn and lonely as Murphy did as a teenager and the pain crushed him. He could only hope now that the parent who clung to his forearm could save her child in a way he couldn’t, and before anyone else lost their life.
‘You think I’m hiding behind some kind of illness?’ Murphy hissed. ‘You’ve understood nothing about what I’ve told you, have you? About me … about what I want. About the people who have to pay for this.’
‘But you can put all that behind you now, Grace.’ Valerie’s voice hitched in her throat. ‘We need to move past what’s happened. Of course I know how hard that will be, and we’ll work on a brighter future together … no evil monsters or fake personalities.’
Although Hamilton thought the promise of a bright future was a futile one, given the circumstances, he sighed with relief as Murphy smiled at her mother and nodded in agreement to the image she’d just painted. But just as he lowered his guard and signalled for an officer to the right of him to advance on the situation, Murphy turned the gun. Before he had the chance to shout out or move closer to stop her, she pulled the trigger.
32
Lack of sleep had finally zappe
d away all of Hamilton’s remaining energy, and the past forty-eight hours had completely drained his emotional reserve. He so desperately wanted to get home to his wife, but there was one person he had to see before that could happen. He pushed open the door and walked into the room, his wet brogues squeaking on the polished tiles. He then gently eased himself on to the edge of the hospital bed and puffed out a lungful of air.
‘How are you?’ he asked when his presence didn’t entice the attention he’d hoped for.
Fraser stared absently out of the window. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me. I just want to go home.’
‘They had to check you over, you can understand that surely, but you’ve made your feelings clear and the discharge papers are being sorted now.’ He paused and lightly touched Fraser’s arm. ‘But that wasn’t exactly what I meant.’
She sighed heavily but finally turned her head and met his gaze. ‘I’m numb … no, I’m not! I’m angry and disappointed and …’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know how I am.’
‘That’s pretty understandable at the moment, considering what you’ve been through,’ he replied, worried that the tears bubbling in his colleague’s eyes were about to unleash themselves. Not that Hamilton had a problem with that, he’d seen his fair share of breakdowns, but he felt guilty for the pain Fraser harboured. ‘You know, none of this was your fault—’
‘Murphy took her own life,’ Fraser blurted. ‘I contributed to that. But I also felt relieved … when I felt her grip on me loosen and saw her fall to the ground. It wasn’t me. I hadn’t been shot and I felt happy. How evil is that?’
‘Jesus Christ, Fraser, that’s hardly ev—’
‘A young woman killed herself today and I felt relief. Relief, for crying out loud. I’m in a position where I’m supposed to help these people.’
‘Fraser, you tried your best.’
‘No, I only pushed her further away from getting help. I’m just as much to blame as …’ She paused and looked away again, but to the shadowy night sky outside the window. ‘Don’t you want to know why I visited Murphy?’
‘Yes. Why did you?’
‘I needed to understand her mental illness. Understand if it was anything similar to my mother’s bipolar. Understand what made her choose to kill people.’
Hamilton turned down his mouth and nodded. ‘I get that. You needed—’
‘Who cares what I needed?’ Fraser faced him again, her eyes red and puffy, her blonde hair — still dirty from the mud and rain — fell around her face. ‘Because I needed to understand something that was none of my business, I triggered a reaction in a woman who needed to be in that hospital receiving treatment and help. Because I so desperately needed to be in the know … it set her on a path that saw her turn the gun on herself. I feel so mad.’
Fraser’s tears finally fell, silently but furiously, and Hamilton reached over to the bedside cabinet and grabbed the box of tissues. He placed them on the bed and waited for Fraser’s breathing to steady.
‘Is that why you’re mad? Because you think it’s your fault Murphy killed herself?’
She brought the tissue to her face and wiped her eyes, the dirt under her fingernails showing and the dried blood on her cut arms still evident. ‘Yes, I’m so mad. I’m furious. I added to her pain and rage. We’re in a position where we’re supposed to stop the bad guys … but Murphy began all this as a victim. I mean, a paedophile was allowed to walk the streets, was allowed to work in an environment with vulnerable women. And yes, while he’s also dead now … look what had to happen. Look at how many people had to die before we even knew he existed.’
‘It’s not a totally awful way to be.’
‘What isn’t?’
‘To be mad. To be emotional.’
‘Grace Murphy was furious too.’
Hamilton sighed deeply. ‘Grace Murphy had a mental illness. It’s very different to how you’re feeling now. I can’t say anything that will take that away, but I mean, it’s not all bad because you can use that to push you further in this job. In the next investigation, you’ll evaluate things differently, see people differently … be a different person.’
‘What if I’m not the right person for this job?’ Fraser wiped her eyes again.
Hamilton shrugged. ‘I can’t answer that for you, Kerry. But what I will say is that you’re a good copper. What we do every day is difficult, and what we see is even worse … human beings being the worst possible sides of themselves. But we all do this job for our own reasons. We all have that fire inside of us that makes us get up every morning and face the terrors and Godawful shit that happens in this world every day. We investigate, and sometimes we get it wrong, but we learn from it so that next time we’re a bit quicker in catching those bastards out there. And yes, we’ll offer help, but sometimes … well, sometimes, that’s not enough. Yes, Grace Murphy was a victim, but she was also a murderer. But you can’t blame yourself every time. All you can do is your best.’
‘Well … when you put things like, I feel like a bit of a moaning mini right now, boss.’
Fraser hinted at a smile, and Hamilton held her hand and squeezed it tightly, knowing that everything he’d just said to her still remained true to himself. The pair sat quietly for a few moments, both lost in their own thoughts. He hoped his words really would have an effect on Fraser, but he understood the MIT wasn’t for everyone; after all, he’d almost left the Metropolitan Police after Maggie committed suicide. He understood the frustration and guilt that came with not saving someone, but he’d learnt a long time ago that sadly not everyone could be saved, because not everyone accepted help. He cleared his throat, let go of Fraser’s hand and stood up.
‘So, the doctors checked me out,’ Fraser said, straightening herself in the bed and regaining her usual profession attitude. ‘They found traces of Rohypnol in my system. It must have been in all those bottles of water Murphy gave me. Explains how she kept moving me from place to place.’
‘I know. The doctors updated us. Rocky also uncovered the identity of the dead woman in Hyde Park.’
‘The woman who resembled me?’
‘Yes, but we’re thinking that’s just a coincidence now. It turns out the woman was a well-known drug dealer. Possibly a contact through Gabe Hardy. Cocaine was present in his system and it would seem Murphy got quite a bit of information from him, and so it’s the likely source of the Rohypnol.’
Fraser frowned. ‘Murphy always seemed to have a reason for killing, though. Why would she murder this dealer contact?’
‘I’m not one hundred per cent confident, obviously, but perhaps the drug dealer had seen the press conference and wanted more for her silence. Or it could just be that Murphy needed to tie up loose ends … worried the deal would lead us to you too soon. Anyway, the drugs are exactly the reason the doctors want you to at least stay one night in the hospital.’
‘I want to go home. Wait, is it—’
‘Your house has been taken care of, Kerry. You’re free to return when you want. But if you think you won’t feel safe there, I can arrange something for you.’
She smiled. ‘There’s no longer a threat to me, boss. I’ll be fine. But thanks. Anyway, I’m sure Chief Allan is fed-up of me using police resources.’
‘Oh yeah, everyone’s overtime will need to come out of your wages this month, you understand? Cut backs are a bitch, and really, I think you would have been fine without us.’
Fraser let out a small laugh and quickly wrapped an arm around her ribs. ‘Don’t make me laugh, boss. Everything hurts.’
‘Well, be sure to know you have all our support, and we’re instructing you to take as much time as you need before coming back to work. Have some leave before you start again.’
‘How do we start again?’
Hamilton puckered his lips and inhaled deeply through his nose. ‘We move on to the next case and help the next person as best we can.’
‘Is that enough, boss?’
‘Well—’
Obviously not realising the implications of her words, Hamilton struggled to keep the emotion rising in his throat at bay. He swallowed hard and said, ‘You can only hope that you learn something from each tragedy and take it forward to do better for someone. Someone who can accept your help.’
Fraser nodded and turned back to the window. Hamilton had planned on feeling sensitive in this enormous scale, and knew it was time to head home. He said goodbye to Fraser, making her promise to call him if she needed anything, and walked to the door of her private room. Just as his hand twisted the handle, she called his name, and he turned to look at her sad, pale face once again.
‘Why, boss? Why didn’t she turn the gun on me? It had been her plan … to kill me on the anniversary of her grandfather’s death. Why did she kill herself instead?’
Hamilton let the silence sit between them for a few moments; it didn’t feel awkward, it felt enlightening. ‘She was struggling to find peace, you heard her say that yourself, and she didn’t know who she was any more. But I also think it had something to do with what Murphy’s mother said … about not letting anyone hurt her while she was around.’
‘I thought that was a good thing,’ Fraser replied, and bit her bottom lip. ‘Her mum was getting through to her.’
‘No,’ Hamilton said with a sadness in his heart. ‘It just reminded Grace that one day her mother wouldn’t be around, just as it happened with her grandfather, and there’d be no one to protect her but herself. She’d be all alone, in a world she viewed as evil, with only the strangers within herself for company.’
Epilogue
Denis Hamilton tilted his head back and gazed up at the ninety-five-storey skyscraper and still couldn’t manage to see the top of the building. The Shard, covered with eleven thousand glass panels, stood in all its glory dominating the Southwark skyline as if its knife-like tip were about to penetrate the dull clouds circling above it.