by Shaun Hutson
Brought in on the shoes of the intruder?
She looked around the room again.
Call the police. For Christ’s sake, call the police!
Someone had definitely been inside the room, and yet it remained undisturbed.
She spun round, passed through the hall and began climbing the stairs, cursing every creaky one.
Slowly she made her way towards the landing, ears alert for the slightest sound from above.
If the intruder was still inside the house . . .
Above her, a floorboard groaned protestingly.
Didn’t it?
She froze, straining her ears.
Outside, the wind was gathering ferocity as it swept around the house.
Perhaps it hadn’t been a floorboard she’d heard. It must be some trick of that violent wind.
Of her mind?
Hailey waited a moment longer, then began to climb the last few steps to the landing.
When she reached it, she stopped again. She glanced at the four firmly closed doors that confronted her.
More mud on the carpet close to one of the guest rooms.
She remained motionless.
Hailey was having trouble controlling her own breathing now.
Which room first?
She crossed to the guest room which had mud trodden into the carpet outside it.
She waited a moment, then pushed the door open.
It swung back on its hinges and she peered in.
Everything in its place. Untouched.
Nothing stolen.
She quickly checked the second guest room.
Also nothing missing.
Hailey moved towards the master bedroom she and Rob slept in, moving as quietly as she could across the groaning floorboards of the landing.
She pushed the door gently and stepped inside.
More mud inside this room, trodden into the thick-pile carpet.
Hailey tried to swallow, but her throat was dry.
Then she saw the heads.
64
ONE ON EACH pillow.
Hailey moved further round the room, eyes riveted on the double bed.
She put her hand on the wall, as if to support herself, as she approached the bed.
The heads had been propped up carefully so that, as Hailey advanced towards them, their sightless eyes held her in an unblinking gaze.
One with flowing black hair; the other with long blonde hair.
Had she been able to think straight, she may well have realized which of Becky’s dolls they had been taken from. As it was, all she could do was stare down at them.
For fleeting seconds she wondered if this was some kind of bizarre joke perpetrated by Becky herself, but the thought disappeared almost instantly.
This was no joke.
There was real malice in this act.
Becky would never have . . .
Becky?
Hailey turned and ran into her daughter’s room.
Like the other rooms in the house, it appeared relatively undisturbed. Apart from the toys.
Three of her dolls heads had been removed. Pulled free. Two of them were now in Hailey’s own bed. The third, she saw immediately, lay on the pillow of her daughter’s bed.
Three tiny plastic bodies lay together on the floor close by.
Hailey picked one up and it made a mechanical crying sound.
She dropped the doll and sat down on the edge of Becky’s bed.
Now what?
She sat trembling for what seemed like a long time, her heart hammering inside her chest.
Now will you call the police?
Hailey sat a moment longer, then wandered back into her own bedroom. She retrieved the two dolls’ heads and returned to Becky’s room, where she carefully restored the small mannequins to their correct appearance by replacing the heads of each. The blank eyes gazed at her as if they were wondering what she was doing. When all three were repaired, Hailey replaced the dolls in their usual position.
Everything in its place.
The fear she had felt before had been replaced by a kind of foreboding as she moved around the house in a trance-like state.
She had already made up her mind she wouldn’t tell Rob what she’d found today.
She would tell him that the burglar alarm needed fixing. That was all.
And there was certainly no need for the police.
Hailey changed into jeans and a T-shirt, stepped into ankle boots, and made her way back downstairs.
The dried mud on the landing and in the bedroom would brush off later.
No need for Rob to know.
Nothing had been taken. Nothing had been damaged.
Whoever had broken in had done it not for gain, but merely to prove a point. And that point had been admirably illustrated. The intruder had got in easily once. A second time would be a formality.
Hailey checked her watch.
Another forty minutes before she had to collect Becky from school.
She had time.
There was something she must do.
65
‘WHAT WAS ADAM Walker doing here?’
Hailey Gibson looked at Caroline Hacket with a curious mixture of anger and bemusement.
‘It’s a free country, Hailey,’ Caroline told her.
‘But what did he want?’ Hailey demanded.
Caroline sighed.
‘He came to talk,’ she said quietly. ‘Mostly about you, if it makes you feel any better. You hurt him, Hailey.’
‘Well, I’m so sorry about that.’
‘You should be.’
‘What bullshit has he been giving you, Caroline?’
‘You led him on. I told you that. He just wanted to know why you wouldn’t talk to him.’
‘I did talk to him. I told him to keep away from me.’
‘Perhaps it was the way you did it that he didn’t like.’
‘So you’re on his side now?’
‘Don’t be so bloody ridiculous. It isn’t a matter of sides.’
‘It sounds as if it is. Why did he come here in the first place?’
‘I told you. He needed someone to talk to.’
‘So you obliged? Very thoughtful. I suppose the fact that you fancy him has got nothing to do with it?’
‘He came here. We talked. About you. About my books. He stayed for lunch. That was it. And to be perfectly honest, Hailey, it’s none of your business whom I have lunch with. Just because you don’t want to speak to him any more doesn’t mean I have to ignore him.’
‘What time did he leave?’
‘About half-past two. Why?’
Hailey exhaled deeply.
‘I think he might have broken into the house this afternoon,’ she said finally.
‘What?’ Caroline asked, a slight smile on her lips. ‘Why the hell would he want to do that?’
‘Revenge.’
‘And what did he take?’
‘Nothing. But he was in our bedroom and in Becky’s.’
‘Was any damage done?’
Hailey shook her head.
‘You can’t accuse Adam of something like that,’ said Caroline. ‘Not without proof. What sort of man do you think he is?’
‘He was angry with me for not speaking to him.’
‘I don’t blame him, but that was no reason for him to break into your house.’
‘I think it gave him every reason.’
‘Then why didn’t he steal something – ransack the place?’
‘He wanted to show me he could get into the house any time he wanted to.’
‘And what do you think he’s going to do if he does break in again? Murder you all in your beds?’
‘You don’t know what he might do.’
‘Be careful, Hailey. Your paranoia’s showing.’
‘Don’t patronize me, Caroline,’ Hailey snapped. ‘I know what I saw.’
‘What did you see? Just let me refresh your memory. You say Adam Walker broke into your house, but he t
ook nothing and he damaged nothing, right? Where is your proof that it was him?’
‘Who else would do something like that?’
‘Have you told Rob yet?’
‘I’m going to sort this out myself. I’m going round there tomorrow to speak to Adam and tell him to stop what he’s doing.’
‘You’ve got no proof he’s doing anything,’ Caroline reminded her.
‘Why are you defending him?’
‘Because you’re making him a scapegoat for your own guilt.’
‘What guilt?’ rasped Hailey. ‘Nothing happened between us.’
Caroline regarded her impassively.
‘Did you fuck him while he was here?’ Hailey wanted to know.
‘What difference does it make if I did or not? You don’t care about him. Do you?’
Hailey looked away from her.
‘Do you?’ Caroline persisted.
‘I don’t want him in my life,’ Hailey said flatly.
‘Good. Then leave him alone.’
‘He’s the one pestering me. Sending flowers, phoning all the bloody time, trying to speak to me. I didn’t ask him for that. I don’t know why you have to get involved with him.’
‘I like him.’
‘I know that.’
‘It’s my life, Hailey. If you can’t cope with it, I’m sorry.’
The two women gazed at each other for a moment longer, then Hailey reached for her car keys.
‘I’d better go,’ she said brusquely.
‘Yes,’ Caroline added quietly. ‘I think that might be best.’
She heard the front door slam as her friend left, followed moments later by the sound of the Astra’s engine.
Caroline waited a moment, then crossed to the phone.
66
‘AM I BORING you, Miss Gibson?’
Hailey looked directly at Nicholas Barber and saw a look of mild irritation on his face.
‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’ she asked, forcing a smile and shifting uncomfortably in her chair. She swallowed hard, aware that the MP’s gaze had settled on her unwaveringly.
At other tables in the restaurant, people chatted amiably, and the babble of their conversation mingled with the chinking of cutlery on crockery. The odd loud laugh punctuated the background hubbub.
Come on, get a grip.
‘Your attention seemed to be wandering,’ said Barber. ‘I realize that’s something of an occupational hazard in my position. People don’t exactly tend to hang on my every word.’
She met the MP’s stare and ran a hand through her hair.
Barber pushed a spoonful of crème brulée into his mouth.
He was a narrow-shouldered individual with pinched features and enough grey hair to suggest that he lied about his age. Hailey had figured him for mid-fifties, but he insisted he was yet to reach the half-century. But then again, she reasoned, he was a politician. Why should he be truthful about his age when he spent his life lying about everything else?
‘I was listening,’ Hailey assured him. ‘There’s so much to think about, though. The organization behind this gig is incredible.’
‘Well, fortunately, that’s your problem not mine, Miss Gibson.’
‘Mrs Gibson,’ she corrected him.
It was Barber’s turn to look bemused.
‘So, how many guest passes will you want for the gig, Mr Barber?’ Hailey said finally.
‘I think half a dozen should cover it.’
‘Well, we are trying to limit them to two per person, it being a charity event.’
Barber shook his head. ‘And how many are the pop group themselves getting?’ he wanted to know.
‘I’m not sure yet. That side of it is being handled by their record company. And it is their gig after all.’
‘I was under the impression this was Jim Marsh’s event.’
‘There wouldn’t be an event without Waterhole,’ Hailey reminded him.
Barber sat back in his seat, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with his napkin.
‘I’ve known Jim Marsh for years,’ he said. ‘I knew him when he didn’t have a pot to piss in.’
Hailey tried to hide her surprise at the MP’s words.
‘I was a local councillor and he was running a business with just two people working for him,’ Barber said. ‘Things have changed for both of us, Mrs Gibson. He’s a multi-millionaire employing eighty people in this town alone. He’s created jobs, and that’s good for the community. I’ve done my bit, too. I’ve been MP for this borough for the last fifteen years. I’ve served it well. It’s flourished, and I like to think that people like myself and Jim Marsh can claim some responsibility for its vibrancy.’
Pompous bastard.
Hailey sipped her cappuccino.
‘I’m sure everyone who lives here is grateful to you, Mr Barber,’ she said, barely able to hide her sarcasm.
All she wanted to do was get away from the rambling sod. She had other things on her mind.
Lunch had taken an eternity, or so it seemed. More than once she’d chanced a surreptitious glance at her watch.
‘Yes, this concert will be good for the town,’ Barber decided. ‘It’ll bring more money in. My family are looking forward to it, so I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.’ He smiled and leant forward. ‘Do you have family?’
She told him about Rob and Becky.
‘And they’ll be attending the concert, will they?’ Barber wanted to know.
‘Yes.’
‘And the party afterwards?’
Hailey nodded.
‘How many guests will be at the party?’ Barber enquired.
‘Fifty or sixty. We’re running competitions in a number of music magazines too, so there’ll be four winners there to meet the band.’
‘A pop group and a Member of Parliament,’ Barber said smugly. ‘It should be a night to remember for them.’
‘I’m sure it will be,’ Hailey said in her most convincingly reverential tone.
They won’t even know who you are.
‘So, you’ll see that I have all the passes I need?’ Barber persisted.
Hailey nodded resignedly.
Anything. Just let me out of here.
It was Barber’s turn to check his watch.
‘Well, I’ve just got time for a brandy,’ he smiled. ‘This is going on your expense account, I trust?’
Hailey ordered him his drink and herself another coffee.
The restaurant was beginning to empty. There were only three or four tables still occupied. Elsewhere, the staff were busy clearing up, some of them glancing over in the direction of Hailey and Barber.
‘Here’s to a successful concert,’ said the MP, raising his glass.
Hailey smiled dutifully. Again she looked fleetingly at her watch.
There were things she had to do.
One in particular.
67
HAILEY PARKED THE Astra about a hundred yards from Adam Walker’s house and sat behind the wheel motionless.
The street was relatively empty of vehicles and, if Walker was home, she didn’t want him to see her. Not just yet.
During the drive she had gone over in her mind what she would say to him. Rehearsed her part of the conversation until she knew it by heart. Decided what she was going to say to him, and how. She wasn’t going to lose her temper. She wasn’t going to raise her voice. She just wanted to speak to him.
If you’d spoken to him in the beginning, then none of this would have happened.
She sucked in a deep breath, held it, then exhaled slowly.
Her heart was thudding insistently in her chest.
Afraid to face him?
She swung herself out of the car and locked it, checking her reflection in the window before she set off towards his house.
Be firm, not rude. Just firm.
Her heels clicked on the pavement as she walked. The only sound, it seemed, in the stillness of the thoroughfare.
There were two or th
ree birds singing in the trees that lined the street, but apart from that she seemed to be alone.
Hailey paused at the entrance to the short driveway that led to Walker’s house, gazing at the dwelling for long moments before finally heading towards the front door.
Keep calm.
Walker’s Scorpio wasn’t in the drive.
It could be in the garage, she reasoned.
He was probably in.
Watching you from one of the windows. Waiting for you.
She reached the front door, hesitated a minute, then rang the doorbell.
Her heart was beating even faster now.
Why are you concerned? He’s the one in the wrong. He’s the one who should be apologizing for what he’s done. The dog shit through the letterbox, the slashed tyres on Rob’s car, the break-in. He should be grateful you didn’t call the police.
Hailey took a step back and looked up at the first-floor windows.
No sign of movement behind the curtains.
Perhaps he wasn’t home.
And if he’s not? How many times do you come back?
She rang the bell again.
Still no answer.
Hailey crossed to the bay window, cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the glass.
She could see very little.
The path led on to a wooden gate at one side. This obviously led to the back of the house.
She saw a latch on the gate and lifted it, pushing against the weathered wood.
The gate didn’t budge.
Hailey muttered under her breath and pushed harder.
The gate swung open and she almost overbalanced.
A narrow path continued down the side of the house, flanked on the left by some out-of-control privet hedge that also acted as a barrier between Walker’s house and the dwelling next door.
Hailey moved slowly along the path, pieces of untrimmed privet scratching at her clothes and face. She emerged into the back garden.
For a moment she stood still, remembering the last time she had been here at Walker’s house.
Remembering it because you enjoyed it?
She crossed to the back door and knocked.
No answer.
Hailey peered through various windows, but saw nothing. If Walker was inside, then he had no desire to speak to her.
Because he had something to hide? Because he was ashamed?
She returned to the back door and twisted the handle.