by M. J. Ford
‘Masters.’ It was Harden, and she sounded beyond pissed off. ‘Can you see Brown?’
‘I think he’s injured ma’am.’
‘Can you see him?’
‘No. But Jeffries shot him in the torso.’
‘The chopper doesn’t land until we have a visual.’
The left rear door of the Land Rover opened with a clatter, and Megan Brown tumbled out. Her hands were bound with a plastic tie. She tried to stand, but fell, and caught herself on her wrists and knees. Her ankles were tied too. She saw Jo’s car, and scrambled to her feet, only to fall again. ‘I see Megan.’
‘We have her too,’ said the helicopter.
Jo left the engine running, and cracked open her door.
‘Stay in the car,’ said Harden.
Jo realised the Chief Constable was seeing the footage from the chopper. She reached across, and took the Glock.
Megan looked up at her. Her hair was hanging in front of her face, and her skin was white.
She needs help.
Jo stepped from the car, and heard Harden swear over the comms. Through the back window of the Land Rover she couldn’t see James Brown. Jo crouched behind her open door. ‘Come on, Megan,’ she said. ‘Come to me.’
Jo had edged out a little, when the front door of the Land Rover opened. Brown stepped down. Jo saw the right side of his dark hoodie was saturated from shoulder to hip with blood. He carried the shotgun in his right hand, sawn off halfway along the barrel.
‘Get back here!’ he roared at Megan. She saw him, gave a wail, and redoubled her efforts, practically dragging herself towards Jo like a fish flopping back to the safety of water. Brown walked past her. Awkwardly, like the limb was almost a dead weight, he slung his right hand across his body, resting the shotgun over his forearm, and took aim at Jo. She ducked behind the door as the booming shot went off. Pellets thudded into the door, and the glass of the window showered over her head. She wasn’t hit, but for a moment, she was paralysed in fear. Her mind screamed.
If you don’t move, you’re dead. Theo won’t have a mother.
Her body didn’t listen.
‘You’re not taking her!’ Brown shouted.
A second shot went off, and the door shook.
She was lucky he wasn’t using the pistol. A 9mm round would have cut through the door easily. She dared to look out. He was on one knee, barrel resting vertically on the ground, reloading shells.
Might not get another chance.
Jo levelled the Glock through the broken window, keeping the car door was a shield. ‘Drop the gun, James!’ she said.
Brown didn’t look all that alarmed. He snarled, set the shotgun down, turned around and walked towards Megan. He grabbed her by the collar, and yanked her after him. She screamed and tried to fend him off as she was dragged along the ground on her bum and heels towards the building. Jo, unable to pull the trigger for fear of hitting Megan, watched them go. As soon as he was out of sight, she followed. Running across the ground, she saw metal tracks inlaid, and realised the building she was approaching must have once been an engine shed or something of that ilk. Like the tunnel earlier, this was a remnant of the old railway.
The helicopter circled overhead, keeping her in sight.
‘James, please,’ she shouted. ‘Let Megan go. We can look after her.’
She didn’t know if he could hear her, or if he would even care. Did he still have the pistol? Did he have ammo? The Glock felt heavy, cumbersome, her hand sweaty on the cross-hatched metal grip. She tried to loosen her fingers, but they seemed locked.
She edged along the wall until she reached the end. Taking a series of deep breaths, she spun around the perimeter, gun held out at eye level. There was no one there, but a metal set of double doors, flaking with rust, were open. Blood trailed inside. Jo walked towards them. Her legs felt like jelly. If he still had the Makarov, he’d be firing left-handed. But he’d killed Jeffries just fine.
‘James, I don’t want either of you to get hurt,’ she said. ‘There’s no way out of here. Not this time. If you throw the gun out of the door, no one will harm either of you, I’ll make sure of that.’
‘Shut it, will you?’ he said. The voice was angry, plaintive, almost childlike.
‘James, Megan is going to die unless we get her to hospital,’ said Jo. ‘That stuff you gave her, it’s going to kill her. They’ll look after her.’
‘I’ll fucking look after her.’ He sounded desperate. She wondered how much blood he’d lost. How compromised was he?
‘Look at her, James! I know you love your sister, but look at her.’
There was no answer. She waited, listening to the rotors of the chopper and the distant, indistinct radio chatter coming from her car.
‘James?’ she called.
Another minute or so passed and she worried he might have slipped away somehow. She risked a peep around the door.
Inside the shed was almost empty, apart from the remains of a gantry around the upper half, collapsed in places. The roof was supported by exposed steel beams, and three sets of tracks ran through the centre. James Bailey was sitting against the wall, with Megan clutched in front of him between his splayed legs. He looked exhausted. He had one arm around her chest, holding her to him, and in his right hand, resting on the floor, he held the Makarov.
Jo moved inside, gun trained on him. Could he even lift that arm? Impossible to tell.
‘Let her go, James.’
‘She doesn’t want to come with you,’ he said.
‘Why don’t you ask her, James,’ said Jo.
‘What do you want?’ he said, chin resting on top of his sister’s head.
Megan’s eyes were on the gun too.
Jo had a shot, but six inches off-target and it would be Megan who died. She set her feet, her hands rock solid on the gun. She couldn’t do it. Not unless Megan put some distance between her and her brother.
‘I asked what you want?’ said James. ‘You want to go with them, after everything I’ve done for you?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Megan, her voice a whimper. She slumped forward, but he pulled her back against him.
‘I did all this for you,’ he said. ‘So we could be happy, yeah?’
‘I know,’ said Megan. ‘I know you did. But I don’t feel right. I need to go to hospital.’
‘I can make you better,’ he said. ‘When that thing’s out of you, you’ll feel better.’
‘She needs a doctor, James,’ said Jo. ‘Let me take her. You can see each other after.’
It was the wrong thing to say.
‘Fuck you!’ he said, face twisting. ‘You know how many fuckers like you said that to me before? Every time I asked, every fucking time I wanted to know where she was.’
‘Okay, James,’ said Jo. She took her supporting hand off the gun, spreading both to placate him. ‘I won’t lie to you. You’re going to be arrested. But you will see Megan again, if she wants to. She can visit you. That’s a promise. Isn’t that right, Megan, love?’
‘Yeah,’ said Megan.
Brown banged the back of his head on the wall, hard enough to make a thud, and gnashed his teeth. ‘Why couldn’t you people just leave us alone?’ he said. He lifted the Makarov and pointed it at Megan’s head. His arm trembled with the effort. His sister squirmed, wailing in fear, but he kept the barrel on her temple.
‘James, no!’ said Jo.
‘You think I’m going to let you take her?’ he shouted. ‘She’s my sister! You think I’d ever let you take her?’
Megan’s hands went to his ankle, and before Jo understood what was happening, she pulled a long bowie knife from a hidden sheath. He saw it too, and lowered the gun, for just a second to make a grab. Megan thrust the knife into his leg just above his knee with considerable force.
Brown screamed, and shoved Megan away from him. For a second he looked at the knee in astonishment, then at Megan. He swapped the Makarov into his left hand and raised it towards his sister.
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Jo pulled the trigger. Brown’s body flinched, and the gun swayed in his hand. Jo took two steps forward and fired again, this time at his head. She thought she’d missed, but his arms fell suddenly limp. Blood began to trickle from the inside corner of his left eye.
‘James?’ said Megan, sitting a metre away.
Brown’s head remained stationary but both of his eyes moved in his sister’s direction, like they were the only living thing in his body. They watched her, black and fierce, for a second, then their focus shifted and he seemed to be looking into the distance.
Jo ran up and kicked the Makarov away. It clanked across the rails in the floor. Megan slumped onto her side.
‘Hey!’ said Jo, rushing to her. ‘Don’t give up now,’ she said.
Megan didn’t respond. Her own eyes were glassy, her breathing shallow. Bloody froth seeped from her lips.
‘Hold on,’ said Jo, placing her own gun on the ground. ‘Help’s coming.’
Though as she ran outside to wave the chopper down, she had little hope it would come in time.
Chapter 30
SATURDAY, 26TH APRIL
At the door of the ward, Constable Marquardt signed her in.
‘You’re looking smart, ma’am.’
Jo didn’t know what to make of the compliment, or its implications. Was she really that sloppily presented normally?
‘Got somewhere to be later,’ she said. ‘How’s the patient?’
‘Sprightly, considering,’ he said. ‘The solicitor was here earlier. For about thirty seconds until she told him he could sling his hook. Well, the equivalent, in rather choicer language.’
For security reasons, Megan Bailey had a private room. When she saw Jo, she sat up straighter in bed, as if a tiger had entered the room rather than a five-foot-six woman.
‘It’s all right,’ said Jo. ‘This isn’t an official visit.’
With her hair tied back, Megan looked older. Or maybe that was the ordeal she had been through. Jo felt older too.
‘Mind if I sit down?’ said Jo.
The girl nodded.
Jo took a seat, and reached into her bag, bringing out the make-up bag she’d recovered from the girl’s bedroom in Stanton St John. ‘Thought you might want something from home,’ she said.
Megan watched in silence as Jo placed it beside the bed.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Better,’ said Megan. She didn’t seem to know what to make of Jo’s presence.
‘I’m sorry about the baby,’ she said.
Megan shrugged, not dismissively, but as if she didn’t quite know what to make of that either. ‘Probably for the best,’ she added.
Jo didn’t have any answers for her in that regard.
‘My name is Josie,’ she said. ‘I’m a police officer with Thames Valley. In time, you’ll be asked to give an official statement, but it can wait until you’re stronger. I’m also a friend of Harry Ferman.’
Megan nodded, her skin pale. ‘They told me he was dead.’
Jo blinked. ‘Yes, he is. Being smashed on the head with a metal bar will do that to you.’
Megan had begun to cry. She shook her head. ‘James told me they were just going to talk.’
‘About what?’ asked Jo. She didn’t know whether to believe what she was hearing.
‘About James and me going away,’ said Megan.
Too many unanswered questions …
‘You’re telling me you didn’t know what happened?’
Megan paused. ‘If I had, I’d never have …’ She looked at Jo angrily. ‘Harry was my friend.’
Jo remained dispassionate. ‘BFFs with a seventy-year-old bloke?’
‘You said he was your friend too,’ said Megan, through tear-filled eyes.
There were tissues on the stand nearby, but Jo let her cry. ‘So how did you and Harry end up being mates?’ she asked.
Megan looked at her, and Jo saw her mind going over options, wondering what version of the truth to tell.
‘I know you broke in,’ said Jo.
‘He was kind,’ said Megan. ‘I’d hurt myself. Cut myself on some glass. He told me he wouldn’t phone the police. I … I couldn’t believe it.’
‘And he just let you stay? Just like that.’
‘He wanted to phone my parents. I told him I didn’t have any family. I don’t know if he even believed me or not. But he said he could help me.’
‘Help you how?’
‘I … I don’t know.’
‘And you just moved in?’
‘Not then. He said I could come back, if I needed to talk. Things weren’t good with Xan. He wouldn’t leave me alone. But he didn’t know about Harry’s place.’
‘So it was convenient?’ said Jo, feeling her lip curl.
‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘So how was it?’
‘I dunno. We talked. He had problems too. Drinking. He said we could help each other. You know, get clean.’
Jo almost scoffed. Harry was a kind man, but he wasn’t stupid, or romantic, especially when it came to drug addicts. No cop was. Yet the lack of booze bottles supported Megan’s claims. And Harry hadn’t been a cop for a long time. Was it possible that time off the job had softened him that much?
‘The first few days were awful,’ said Megan, ‘but he looked after me. He said he could find people to help me, if I wanted. Fed me. Toast mostly.’
Jo smiled, despite herself. Now the girl wasn’t lying.
‘So how does James fit into all this?’ she asked.
A long pause followed, with Megan’s eyes darting like she couldn’t make sense of it herself. ‘I hardly even remembered him. I guess that sounds stupid, but Mum and Dad never spoke about him. I don’t know if they even knew I’d had a brother. None of the council lot mentioned him. It was easy to forget. Then he showed up, while I was staying with Harry. It was … weird. He said he’d been looking for me. That we could go away.’
‘And what did you think of that?’
‘I was excited, I s’pose. I wanted to leave. Harry was worried for me though.’
‘And what about your mum and dad?’
‘They were away. They wouldn’t care.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
Megan’s eyes flashed. ‘You don’t know anything about them.’
Jo sensed, if she pushed it, this weak and tiny girl was liable to leap out of bed and start swinging.
‘Did you ever tell them about Greg?’
Megan shook her head. ‘They knew though. I know they knew.’
Sometimes a thing could be right before your eyes, thought Jo, and you might still not see it. Sometimes it was easier to keep the truth at bay rather than deal with the consequences.
Megan’s mouth twitched. ‘Someone told me he was here.’
‘He will be for a while,’ said Jo. ‘James hurt him badly.’
‘Yes,’ said Megan. ‘He didn’t deserve that.’
‘He won’t be able to come near you now,’ Jo said.
There was no anger or bitterness in the girl’s face, but Jo couldn’t discern what the girl was feeling about the brother who’d slept with her, or what she thought herself. The courts might have a view, but whatever judgement ended up being passed down seemed an inadequate response to the messy lives of the adoptive siblings. Nothing could ever fix what had happened between them.
But, despite everything the girl had suffered, Jo wasn’t ready to absolve her yet. How could James Brown ever have looked like a good option or a promising future?
Jo leant forward. ‘Your brother killed eight people, including four police officers. Your mum and dad. Xan. Don’t sit there and play innocent. You were on the run, holding people up at gunpoint, stealing things …’
‘Not me. James …’
‘But you were with him. You didn’t stop him. You didn’t run away.’
Megan threw a glance at the door, as if hoping to be rescued. When no one came, Jo pushed her.
‘Tell me, please,’ said Jo. ‘I need to understand what happened.’
I need to understand you.
Megan took a deep breath. ‘It was different, at first. James was different. He just wanted to help.’
‘By killing Xan. And your mum and dad? And Harry?’
‘I didn’t know about any of it!’
‘Or you didn’t want to.’
Megan gave the tiniest of nods. In an interview room, Jo would have noted it for the recording. Not a confession as such, but an acknowledgement, as if the enormity of James’ crimes, and her own part, was still sinking in. ‘You have to believe me.’
It doesn’t matter what I believe, thought Jo. Andy Carrick had told her the day after James Brown’s death that the Chief Constable wanted her nowhere near the interrogation of Megan Bailey.
‘James said they would be looking for us, and our only chance was to hide. If they found us, they’d separate us again, and maybe even put us in prison. He took my phone – said we could get a new one later. He’d planned it all.’
‘Did he know you were pregnant?’
‘No one did. I’d done tests at Harry’s. I hoped it would go away like last time, but it didn’t. I was feeling sick all the time, so I told James. We got another test, and he completely changed. It was like he was disgusted with me. I shouldn’t have told him about Greg, but I wanted to explain that it wasn’t simple. It wasn’t my fault …’
‘He took it badly?’
She blew out her cheeks. ‘Yes. I told him we could use it; that Greg might give us money to get away. I knew he had loads, and that he’d do anything to keep it all from Mum and Dad.’ The faraway look returned to Megan’s eyes. ‘I honestly didn’t know they were dead.’
‘And then James gave you drugs?’ said Jo.
Megan touched her stomach inadvertently. ‘His neck was really bad. He said he needed medicine, and any doctor would turn us both in. But when we were at the horse vet’s, he said he had something that could help me too. He said it was the same stuff they give women who want to get rid of babies.’
‘It is,’ said Jo, ‘just not in those sorts of doses.’
‘I tried to get away that night, but he just flipped completely. I thought he was going to kill me. He said I was an ungrateful bitch, and everything he’d done was for me. After that, it’s all mixed up …’