‘I’m just so nervous,’ I explained. ‘I can’t believe she’s not here. I don’t know how I’ll pluck up the courage to do this again.’
Mrs Minter told me where the toilet was, feeling comfortable enough to stay in the room and let me go out into the hall on my own. The more sympathy that showed on her face the worse I felt about lying to her, but I didn’t have time for that. Closing the door behind me, I went back to the front door to see if I could spot any spare keys, on a hook maybe. I couldn’t but I did see that there was no alarm system. That was good. As quickly and as quietly as I could, I made my way past the living-room door and down a passageway until I found a door on the right, just before the kitchen. More wallpaper greeted me, gigantic swirling green fronds as though I’d been ambushed by a triffid. The room was small, containing a toilet and nothing else. The seat was down and I stepped on it, then ran my hands round the window frame above.
The window wasn’t barred but the frosted panes were secured by four window locks, which in turn were neatly covered by plastic caps. I stepped back down and looked in a small cabinet, where I found the long slim key to the locks sitting next to a bottle of pine-fresh toilet cleaner and a Jessica Helms novel. I unlocked the windows, put the bolts in my jacket pocket and then slid the small plastic covers back into place. They looked the same as before. I turned the swivel catch and stepped back.
No. Mrs Minter would see straight away that the catch was open. She wouldn’t necessarily think anything was up but she’d almost certainly close it. I closed it myself before using my Leatherman on the screws that fixed the tiny bracket of the catch to the bottom half of the sliding window. No one would notice that it was no longer attached, unless they were dusting the sills down. I doubted whether Mrs Minter would do that tonight. I put the screws in my pocket.
After I left the toilet I made my way up three flights of stairs until I found myself on a landing, where two green eyes stared at me from on top of an orange ottoman piled with clean washing. I stroked the cat and then hopped up the steep staircase leading to the loft. At the top was a closed door. I turned the handle slowly but the door was locked. I looked through the keyhole but the room was dark.
Back in the living room I put my hand to my stomach in an effort to explain the length of my absence and received a reassuring smile from Mrs Minter. Mrs Minter asked me again if I wanted tea or anything stronger, adding that it could be a long time before Cherie came home. I said no thanks.
‘And as it could be hours, I won’t take up any more of your time. But, Mrs Minter, could you do me a favour?’
‘I’ll try, but you’re welcome to stay. I could cook us a meal.’
‘No, thank you all the same.’
‘Well, never mind. But I think I know what you’re going to ask. You don’t want me to tell Cherie you came, do you?’
‘I don’t, Mrs Minter. It’s very wise of you to guess that. I think the news would be a big shock and it really should come from me.’
‘I understand.’
’Instead, could you call me? When she comes home? Then I can come round again. If it’s OK that I come round again?’
‘Of course it is. And I will call. On the QT.’
‘Let me write my number down.’
‘And I’ll give you mine too,’ Mrs Minter said, reaching into her bag for a pen.
* * *
Back in the pub I had to stand, but I had a good view of Number 14. Mrs Minter had, unfortunately, had the good manners to show me out. If she hadn’t I’d have gone straight up the stairs and found a way to get past the door at the top. Instead I thanked her and shook her hand and promised to bring my two girls round for lunch once I’d got to know my sister. Once again Mrs Minter promised to call me the moment she heard Cherie come home, whether it was later that evening or the next day.
‘You must be so excited at the thought of meeting her,’ Mrs Minter said as we parted.
‘I am,’ I agreed. ‘I can hardly wait.’
‘And for her – what a surprise!’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘A very big surprise, indeed.’
I leaned against a pillar and sipped a Coke. I was happy, pleased by the way things had gone. I’d found her. I’d found a way into the house where she lived. Now I had to follow through. My eyes never leaving the door opposite, I tried to picture the next few hours. As far as I could see, there were two ways I could play it. Both had their merits. The first way would be to watch the house until Cherie came home. I could wait until two or three in the morning and she was asleep. She had to sleep. That way I’d know she was definitely there, I’d know exactly where she was. Then, with the house quiet, I could break in through the toilet window. No one would hear me. The only problem would be the door to the loft conversion but I was pretty confident that I could pick the lock without waking the girl inside. If I couldn’t I’d just bust it down and by the time Mrs Minter called the police, and they got there, it would all be over one way or another.
The second way would be to break into the house before Cherie came home and wait for her. The only problem with that was that it was still only seven-thirty. Not only might Mrs Minter hear me getting in the toilet window but the street was too busy as well. So, whichever option I took, I had to wait until later, until Mrs Minter was in bed. And if that was the case there was no point wasting time there. I used my phone and reached Sally at the gym.
‘Billy,’ she said. ‘I was expecting you to call. I got your message. Cherie, the massage girl. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.’
‘Sorry?’
‘For giving her a way to get to you. I feel so stupid. She was just so normal, so down to earth. I shiver to think that she had me on the couch in my office, half naked.’
I shivered at that too.
‘It wasn’t your fault. I fell for her as well. And I’d seen her before. I’m sorry I brought you into it, that you’re having to deal with the police. You are, aren’t you?’
‘They came down here, asking questions. It’s OK, Billy, no sweat. There’s nothing here I don’t want them to see. But tell me, what’s going on? Did you meet with the 22?’
‘I did.’
‘And how did it go? They told me they had an address for you. Did you get it?’
My stomach turned over. ‘I got it.’
‘And is it kosher?’
‘As salt beef.’
‘Excellent. But now you want the other thing, and it’s for you now, am I right?’
‘You are.’
‘Well, I’m hoping I can get it for you by tomorrow. The heat that’s out there has made it harder to get hold of. South London’s dead but I’ve left a message with a Camden firm.’
‘I need it tonight, Sal.’
‘I see. OK, I’ll call them back. But I’m not promising anything. It’s going to be difficult. But if they do have it they can bring it to you. Where will you be for the next few hours? At home?’
‘I’ve got a caravan of coppers camping on my doorstep.’ I thought about it. ‘I’ll be at my office. I’ve got some cash there, so you can tell the Camden lot that I’ll pay them the same again, if I get it tonight.’
‘OK,’ Sal said. ‘But, Billy, you’ve obviously found her. Why don’t you bring Pete in on this? As back-up.’
‘I think I have to do this on my own, Sal.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I started it on my own.’
‘Isn’t that just pride? Let us help. We were stupid enough to fall for the girl too – and how will you feel if she gets away from you? I’m going to call him and tell him to be ready anyway, he could be with you in twenty minutes. So at least think about it, will you?’
‘Thanks, Sal,’ I said. ‘I promise I will. I will think about it.’
And I did. I thought about it as I walked back to the car. I thought about it in the car and then in the lift, as it took me up to the third floor of the Lindauer Building. Sal was right. The personal score thing was vanity, nothing more. I’d cal
l Pete. He wouldn’t be able to get through a toilet window but he would be able to watch from the outside. He could warn me that Cherie was coming, he could even nab her on the way out if everything went wrong. It was a good idea. As I stepped out of the lift into the darkened hall I pulled out my keys and my mobile, needing Pete’s number from the address book. I unlocked my office door and pushed it open with my shoulder. I flicked the light switch. My eyes were on the phone in my right hand but they went straight from that to the face of the man sitting behind my desk. I let my hands fall to my sides and I stopped dead in my tracks.
The face was heavy. Motionless. The man who owned it was so still that for a second I thought he was dead. My gaze flicked down to the gun that was sitting on the desk in front of him. The man’s right hand was lying next to it, his index finger resting lightly on the butt. His cold, flat eyes stared at me.
The man was Mike.
Part Four
Chapter Thirty-Seven
There is quiet and there is quiet. There is quiet that only seems to be deep until a greater silence descends. Out in the corridor I’d thought the Lindauer Building was quiet. Now it really was. At least, that is, in the intervals between each of the beats of my heart.
‘Sit down, Billy.’
I nodded. I let my arms fan out slowly, taking my hands away from my body.
‘OK,’ I said.
‘Leave the phone on the desk and sit down there, on the chair. Don’t come any closer than that.’
‘All right.’
‘Then listen to me.’
‘OK. Of course. But, Mike, where have you been?’
Mike’s index finger moved up and down on the stippled black grip beneath it. The gun was a Beretta, 9mm. Point and pull.
‘Around. Getting this. Making sure I could use it. Both were easier than I thought. I’ve been moving around, thinking. And today I’ve also been in the police station, on Calshot Street.’
‘I see.’
‘Where they told me that a baby’s been found. A dead white baby. The DNA test will take a few days but it has to be mine, they said, because the father of the other missing child was black. Then they told me what’s been going on. Why…’ Mike couldn’t stop himself glancing over my shoulder in the direction of the cafe. ‘Why Ally died. They didn’t want to but they did, eventually. It was supposed to reassure me, I think, give me confidence that because they knew who it was now, they’d catch her. And I’d get justice. But I didn’t feel reassured. I didn’t feel anything but stunned. Like, all the time you’ve been here, next to us, this could have happened. We’ve been living next to a time bomb but we never knew it. We never had a chance to get away from you.’
‘Mike…’
‘I know what you’re going to say.’ Mike’s finger moved from the butt of the gun to the trigger guard. ‘That it wasn’t your fault. You know what? I know that, really. It was her fault, that girl, she did it, not you. I didn’t originally buy this for you, you know?’
His finger had curled inside the guard now and was resting on the trigger. The gun, still lying on the desk top, was pointing at my stomach.
‘I bought it for her. Or him, as I thought she was. I never thought I’d find him. I thought the police would, or you. But somehow I’d get to him. In court, while he was being led out perhaps. Then I’d kill him. I wouldn’t care what happened to me. But now…’
Mike winced as though an ulcer had just flared up. He didn’t speak for a second but he kept his eyes fixed on mine. They looked burnt out, empty as a village after the soldiers have left. I’d forgotten him. I’d been swept along so fast I’d left him behind.
‘Now I can’t help it but I just want to point this at you, Billy. And pull the trigger. You, because I can. And I may never get to point it at her. Last time I saw you I loathed you, but you thinking it was me, that was nothing. I realized that. But then to find out that not only were you stupid enough to think that but it was really you. I feel this way because of something you did, years ago. I can’t help wanting to hurt you. I know it doesn’t make sense but then neither would jumping in front of a tube train or driving off Beachy Head, two other things I’ve nearly done in the last week. You started this and yet nothing is lost to you. Just to me, and those other people. And then the pictures come, you know? Of that night. And I’d crack my own head to get them out but I can’t and I get so I just want to do something, to really do something. I’m sorry, Billy.’
‘Mike. Listen to me. Just listen. Then you can do what you want. But not now.’
I lifted my hands very slowly so that Mike wouldn’t think I was going to try and jump him. I pushed my palms down, towards him, as though the air was something heavy that I wanted to move. I tried to feel what he was feeling, take it on board, make it part of the equation I was trying to solve. What I really wanted to do was push it aside and deal with it later. But I couldn’t. Mike sat up, tensing.
‘I know where she lives,’ I said quickly. ‘The girl, Cherie. I know where she lives. I just found out and I went there to confirm it. I’m going back. I’m either going to break in and wait for her, or else I’m going to get a call to say she’s at home. If that comes I’m going to go there. Either way, I’m going to kill her. If I don’t go, tonight, she’ll end up getting arrested. Then she’ll get off in court. I know she will. Can you imagine that? So I have to go there. I have to. Give me the gun. Afterwards I’ll come back here. I promise. I’ll give it back to you and you can do whatever. I won’t stop you. I understand what you feel, Mike. It was my fault. I was wrong to do what I did, give a vulnerable girl back to her father. But if you let me, I’m going to finish it. Stop any more deaths. I promise. Those pictures you have? I’m going to deal with the person who created them. You think I’m to blame – well I am, but I didn’t do that. It was her, Mike, Cherie, Carolyn Oliver.’
‘She won’t get off. I’ll kill her before then.’
‘You want to shoot her?’ I shook my head. ‘You’d never get a chance, you’d never get anywhere near her without going past twenty officers and three metal detectors first. The best you can hope is that she’ll live in prison where you can’t find her. Or else out there in the world, laughing at you. At me. At everyone. Give me the gun. This is our chance. Your chance. Your only chance.’
Mike’s face still carried no expression that I could read. If my words were having any effect, I couldn’t see it. When I’d last seen Mike, on Exmouth Market, he’d looked different, changed for ever from the person he was. Now he looked different again. The horror, the knowledge, they were still there, but they weren’t raging through him now. They were focused, channelling all of his energy into his hand, his right hand, holding the Beretta, resting it on top of his left palm.
‘How do I know that you’re not just making this up? That you won’t just leave, you won’t just set that copper onto me.’
‘Because you know me,’ I said, looking directly into his eyes, trying to get through. ‘Just as I should have known that you didn’t kill Ally, you should know I’m not lying to you. And if you can’t believe me it doesn’t matter. All we have to do is wait. All…’
My phone suddenly gave a little hop from the desktop and began to buzz. Mike started and my stomach nearly came out of my mouth. He’d nudged the gun to the side but he reached for it again, holding it steady. I let out a breath and I glanced at the luminous display on my phone. I recognized the number. I’d been given it less than an hour before.
‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘That’s the woman. Either pull that trigger or give me the gun.’
‘Answer it. I want to hear what she says. Whether you’re telling the truth.’
I didn’t move. ‘I’m going to let it go to message. Then she’ll think I’m busy, that I won’t be going round tonight. I don’t want her to know I’m coming. You can listen to the message she leaves. Come on, Mike, decide. Ask yourself what Ally would have wanted you to do.’
Mike took his eyes off me for a second and looked dow
n at the phone. It was turning round and round on the polished wood surface.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The sky was so densely packed now that it looked like all the clouds in London had huddled together to watch me. Canary Wharf was still blinking, its top only just fitting beneath the static, weighty ceiling, the underside of which was layered with blacks and greys, smeared with a filthy orange from the lights of the city below. The cold night air was breathless as a vacuum, the wind cowering in a corner somewhere, refusing to come out.
I was on Narrow Street again, where I’d parked in a residents’ zone. Cherie was in the house so she wouldn’t see the Mazda, or if she did it would be the next day before she did so. It wouldn’t matter then. Nothing would.
Mike had seen sense eventually. I’d played the message back and we’d both listened to Mrs Winter’s soft, excited tones, telling me that Cherie had returned, though it was probably a bit too late now, wasn’t it? I hadn’t expected her to mention where she lived but nevertheless I was relieved when she didn’t. I didn’t want Mike to have it. Mike wanted me to give him the address, telling me he was going to finish the girl himself. It was his right, he said, and I suppose it was. But I wouldn’t do it. Mike thought that I just didn’t want to give him my trump card, that I was afraid he’d shoot me anyway, before going round there. It wasn’t that. I didn’t think he really would have done it, not after I’d mentioned Ally. The reason was the girl. Mike just might have been able to get through the window but that would have been the easy part. The girl was good. She was smart, strong and she was trained. What’s more she’d killed people, she’d have no block against doing that. Mike wouldn’t have been able to get to her without her knowing. No way. I wasn’t absolutely certain I could do it myself. He’d have had to barge the door down and hope to get lucky, which was no way to do it. The odds were that she’d have taken him out. If he really cared, I told him, he’d let me go up there. If he really wanted to get the person who had murdered his wife. There was a mixture of shame and relief on his face as he handed the gun over.
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