She was half way up the stairs when she realised what was missing. She retraced her steps to the dining room and stood once more at the sideboard. The oval silver frame with the photograph of Nicky, identical to the one on her office desk and the miniature that had disappeared from the top of the fridge ─ the one David and Jessie said looked so like Julia as a child ─ was gone.
WEDNESDAY
- 47 -
Daylight had just begun to spill from the edges of the curtains when the phone rang. Julia had already showered and dressed and had swallowed two Paracetamols for the excruciating pain in her neck. She’d had one hour’s sleep.
She recognised his voice and answered in her most polite solicitor’s tones. ‘You’re wasting your time phoning so soon. You know I can’t possibly have raised the money yet.’
‘I said I’d remind you every day, rich bitch. You should be grateful I’m taking such an interest in your welfare.’
She moved her head from side to side, trying to ease the pain, then decided it would be better to keep it absolutely still.
‘You’re not very talkative this morning, Julia. Still upset about last night, are you?’
‘You’re mad. You could have killed me.’
‘I’d be fucking daft to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs.’
‘If I’d been injured it might have made it more difficult for me to obtain the money.’
‘Crap. I know you’ll get the money. I know why you’ll get it. And so do you.’
She felt the tendons in her neck tighten.
‘But I won’t wait forever, Julia, dear. Oh, and by the way,’ he added softly, ‘say Hi to Nicky for me. That’s one real cute little kid.’
Julia gripped the table. The way he was speaking now was sending images hurtling into her mind that made no sense. How can a grown man’s voice resemble that of a small boy’s, she asked herself.
‘And don’t tell the filth, Julia.’ His voice was back to normal. Deep and cold and filled with hatred. ‘You’re thinking about telling detective bloody superintendent fucking Moxon, aren’t you. Well, don’t. And I’m sure you know how much the filth love cold cases.’
- 48 -
Paul yawned and glanced at his watch. Far below him the sleeping city was beginning to come to life. The low golden sunlight glinting on windows. Pigeons on roofs, rustling their feathers. Cars queuing up at traffic lights. It was a long time since he’d spent a whole night at the office. He’d only intended his spur of the moment visit after Kevin’s phone call to be a short one, and he was amazed he’d actually managed to doze off for a couple of hours.
He pulled the phone towards him and punched memory recall. He hoped he would catch Julia before she left for work. When she was driving she almost always switched off her mobile. She said it was dangerous to talk and drive a car safely. Mozart enabled you to think and concentrate on driving at the same time, she always argued, smiling smugly as though anyone who didn’t do this was really missing out.
It rang once. ‘Julia Grant. Hello ─ ’
'Thank God I’ve caught you.’
‘Paul what’s happened?’
He had never heard her sound so frightened. ‘No problem,’ he said. ‘It was great seeing you yesterday. Just hoped we could meet again after work today.’
‘I’m sorry. I told you. I’ve got this self-protection class tonight.’
‘Of course. It slipped my mind. What about afterwards?’
‘I haven’t been sleeping well. I need an early night. I’ll ring you later in the week.’
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Don’t forget Saturday, will you.’
‘Paul, I must go.’
‘Sure you’re okay?’
‘Of course I am.’
‘Ring me if anything goes wrong. Anything.’
‘I will. Thanks for calling.’
‘Bye . . .’
Paul felt a bit idiotic, but he’d just needed to hear her voice and make sure nothing had happened after he’d left her yesterday. He heard a familiar knock and swung round as Kevin Moorsley walked in.
‘Anything from the Malicious Calls Bureau, Kev?’
‘Nothing, boss. Why?’
‘Don’t know. Just a gut feeling he has contacted her.’ He raked his fingers through his hair. He should be telling Kevin everything, instead of allowing Julia to influence his normal course of action. ‘And if he has, why didn’t she press the number one digit?’
Kevin shrugged.
‘I want him, Kev, and I want him now. This is one of the finest forces in the country. What’s wrong with us? Why can’t we nail him?’
‘We’ve done everything, boss, but there’s ef-all to go on.’
‘Step up surveillance, Kev. Do the pubs again. Get on to Ken Riding and Bob Bennett. Tell them the situation has worsened. Tell ‘em to get their arses into gear.’ He paused and took a deep breath. ‘But remind them that discretion is of the utmost importance.’
Kevin gave Paul a look of puzzlement and exasperation. ‘Yes, boss.’
‘And let me know the instant that old turquoise car is spotted.’
- 49 -
Wendy let herself in and went straight to the kitchen to put the kettle on for their early morning tea. She patted Duchess then picked her up and took her out into the kitchen garden for a few moments. Duchess obliged and Wendy picked her up and took her back to her basket.
‘Feel like a coffee, Wendy? You look done in.’
Wendy whirled round, surprised to see Julia down so early, especially as there was no sign yet of Nicky. And just look at her. As right as rain after her smash last night. Not even a sign of her sore neck and the trauma she’d been through. ‘Oh, no thanks,’ she said. ‘Maybe tea. I couldn’t face coffee.’
‘You should see a doctor,’ Julia said quietly. ‘You don’t need to suffer, you know.’
Wendy bit her lip to stop the tremble. ‘I’m fine,’ she managed to say, then turned away as tears welled in her eyes.
‘No, you’re not,’ Julia said. ‘Something’s wrong. Isn’t it?’
At the first heave of Wendy’s shoulders Julia rushed to her side. ‘Sit down, Wendy, and tell me all about it.’
The knot in Wendy’s throat tightened. This was it. She’d been daft to think she could hide it from someone as clever as Mrs Grant.
Julia took two mugs off the hooks. ‘You’re pregnant, aren’t you, Wendy?’
Wendy nodded slowly.
‘Oh, Wendy, dear! How far?’
Wendy shrugged. ‘Haven’t a clue. Couple of months.’
‘Does Alan know?’
‘I haven’t told him.’
‘Oh, but you must. He’ll be thrilled.’
‘He’ll kill me. He won’t even move in with me. Won’t hear of buying a house. He might dump me altogether if I told him.’
Julia sat down next to Wendy and poured the tea. ‘He’s going to find out sometime.’
‘I know. If you could guess so easily, so could he.’ Wendy suppressed a smile even though she felt so close to tears. ‘But every time I bring up the subject of marriage he says why do we need to get married? Oh, Julia, what shall I do?’
‘Wendy, having a child is the most wonderful thing that can happen to a woman.’
Wendy felt her eyes filling up again. ‘I know. And I love Alan. I want to live with him. I don’t want to bring up a child without a father.’
Julia sipped her tea. ‘Lots of people do,’ she said quietly.
Wendy smiled sheepishly. She was always putting her foot in it, as her mother used to say.
‘But I’m sure Alan will be thrilled,’ Julia added, with such a knowing, kind smile that Wendy wanted to hug her. ‘I wish I could stay and talk to you, Wendy, but I must go now. The sooner I take the Merc to the garage the sooner I’ll get it back. Take care. And tell Alan soon.’
Wendy walked outside with Julia and closed the gate after she had driven out, relieved to see that the damage to that beautiful car was indeed not as bad
as she had thought it would be. Poor Julia. Lately she had been looking kind of sad. It wasn’t just the break-in and Duke’s ghastly death, she was sure, or even her accident last night. But something more than that. Like something deep inside her was weighing on her mind.
She was glad she had a busy morning ahead. Now that Julia had made it sound so easy, she could hardly contain herself until twelve o’clock when Alan would be home and she could phone him with her news.
At last the moment came. Nicky was safely in school. She’d done the vacuuming, put the laundry on and cooked the thick vegetable soup for tonight.
Alan’s sister Dawn answered the phone. Each second she waited for Alan made her resolve grow weaker. After hanging up on him yesterday he might not even agree to talk to her.
There he was at last. ‘Hi. What’s up, Wendy?’
‘Nothing. It’s just . . . I thought maybe I could see you today.’
‘I’m busy. What you want to see me ’bout?’
‘Remember what we talked about the other night? The house. Well, you see . . . there’s something else you should know.’
‘Oh, give over, girl. Don’t you ever know when to stop.’
She heard Alan’s impatient sigh. Maybe she should just blurt it out, now, on the phone, but she couldn't. The words wouldn’t come.
‘Look, Wendy. I’ve been thinking, well, maybe we shouldn’t see each other for a while. I’ve a hell of a lot of work on. You might see things in a better light if you have a bit of a change. Like you always say, a change does you good.’
‘No. You’ve got me wrong. I don’t want a change. Alan, it’d be much easier to talk if you were right here.’
‘But I’m not there, am I? And I gotta go. Look, I’ll ring you in a coupla weeks. See how we go. Okay?’
- 50 -
‘My name’s Mike. I’m a professional martial arts instructor and this is Daniela, my assistant. It’s impossible, ladies, in a one-night self-defence course, to learn to defend yourself in all situations, so I’ll concentrate on a few basic things you can practice and use straightaway.’
He was over six foot and perfectly proportioned, with thick straight black hair and dark eyes. Julia felt that not only would Mike be fearless, he’d be a good teacher. Daniela was small and shapely, rather like Wendy. Both were dressed in white tracksuit pants and T-shirts and looked like adverts for multivitamin pills.
‘It’s the shock of being attacked that hits women first,’ Mike said. ‘Some take two or three seconds to get over the initial shock. Others, thirty or forty. Some are paralysed right through the attack. So it’s a good thing to practise with your partners. Just say to them grab hold of me here, please, darling, and rough me up a bit.’
Partners? She wondered how Paul would react to such a suggestion. It might be fun if nothing else, and she hadn’t had much of that for a long time.
‘It gives you confidence,’ Mike went on. ‘Makes you realise you’re not helpless, as so many women imagine they are. My wife has actually dropped me to my knees with just so much as a tap when I wasn’t expecting it.’
He paused while they all laughed.
‘Yeah. Amazing, isn’t it? But true. You see, at rest you only breathe in and out sixteen times a minute and it’s hardly noticeable.’
You’re right, Julia thought. But it sure is noticeable when someone isn’t breathing at all. Like when I stood over Simon’s bed and saw the glazed look in his eyes and knew he’d stopped breathing altogether. And like when . . .
She could feel her eyes rolling back. She tried to stop the unconnected train of thoughts but for an instant they insisted on blocking everything else, making little sense but sending a chill down her spine.
The chocolates. The sickly smile. The voice in her ear . . . the blood . . . and then the other voice . . . his little hand holding hers. Hurry, Julia . . . come with me . . . run . . .
‘But in a confrontation situation you need more oxygen,’ Mike explained, panting and making his stomach go in and out. ‘So if someone’s got hold of you, the time to hit him is when he breathes in. And when I say hit, I don’t mean bang. All you need is this.’ He gently tapped the lean area of his stomach. ‘And down he’ll go.’
Mike smiled at each of the women in turn, a motley collection ranging in age from about seventeen to over fifty, from really skinny to seriously plump.
‘Okay. First a brief run through tonight’s programme, starting with last-resort tactics. Someone taps you on the shoulder and wants to know the time. You don’t want to break his jaw and drop him to the ground, so these are only for when you know you’re going to be physically attacked.’
‘But how do you know?’ Julia blurted out.
‘When someone comes within your own personal space and you feel physically threatened by his presence. Look. Stretch your arm out and bend it up, then draw a circle round yourself from the point of your elbow. That’s your own personal space. If someone’s in that space, they’re going to attack you. Or make love to you,’ he added, grinning. ‘So don’t wait for them to grab you. Just go for it.’
He beckoned a well-built teenager just in front of him. ‘One example,’ he said. ‘You’re walking through Sainsbury’s car park. Turn that way, please, will you, and start to walk.’
The girl walked, and Mike walked a good few paces behind her.
‘Are you feeling physically threatened?’ he asked her.
‘No.’
‘Right. Now start walking again.’
This time he walked a couple of inches behind her. ‘How about now?’
‘Yes! Oh, hell, yes,’ the girl said, grabbing the back of her head with both hands and starting to run.
‘So there you go,’ Mike said. ‘Nobody walks that close unless they’re going to physically assault you. Right. After that, posture. Your body tells the person whether or not you’re open to attack. Yeah? Two dogs facing up in the street. Glaring at each other, growling. And the first one to lose that posture is the loser. Animal instinct. And everybody’s got it. The problem is, we’re too civilised and most of us have lost it.’
Julia wondered whether her body reactions told Smith she was open to attack, and whether he would know when she was ready to attack him.
What the hell is happening to me, she asked herself. How can my thoughts be so deliberately outside the law? And would I really hurt him if I had the chance, knowing there’s a possibility that . . .
Mike’s voice filtered back. ‘After that there’ll be balance. And listening to your senses. And combating fear, which is the most important part of this course. Yeah. Does anyone know why you get frightened?’
No one answered.
‘Is it something to do with adrenaline?’ Julia asked.
‘Right. When you’re under threat, your body releases a massive amount of adrenaline. I can make adrenaline go into my body so all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Controlled adrenaline rush. You can learn to do this. Adrenaline rushing into your body can either make you go for it, or it can paralyse you.’
‘Fight or flight,’ Julia said.
‘You’ve got it. Fight or flight.’
Mike reeled off the rest of the manoeuvres on the programme. ‘And last of all, hands-on training. One at a time. Fighting me. As though you’re attacked in the street. Yeah? It’s the climax of the course.’
The women smiled apprehensively. Julia kept her eyes glued to Mike. Yes. This is what I came for. Then I can throw away that gun.
‘But first some examples,’ Mike said. ‘A girl of fifteen walks her dog in a park. A man asks her the time. She looks at her watch. He grabs her, drags her into the bushes and rapes her.’
He paused. No one said a word.
‘Next. Pervert preys on mums. He phones you. Says, I’m outside the school, waiting for your daughter to come out.’
Julia bit her knuckles.
‘You okay?’ Mike asked.
‘Yes. Thanks. I’m fine.’
‘Sure? Right. So
what do you do? It’s three o’clock. Your daughter comes out at quarter past. Your first reaction? Phone the police. And then? Get your car out the garage? Or run straight down to the school?’
‘Run,’ said a thin redhead on Julia’s left. She’d told Julia her name was Georgia, but had clammed up when Julia asked about the mass of purple bruises on her arms.
‘Right. But be careful. This guy’s watched you for a week. Watched which way you go to the school. Yeah.’
Julia clasped the tops of her arms.
‘So what should you do?’ Georgia asked.
‘Phone the school. Tell them you’ve had a malicious phone call. Please don’t let Sarah go until I pick her up. Nobody else. Not even a policeman.’ Mike looked at each of them in turn, making sure his words were sinking in.
Julia tried to equate Mike’s fictitious attacker with Smith. Something was wrong. Something in the back of her mind she’d been trying to fathom out ever since his first call on Saturday. And with a jolt of recognition she knew what it was.
Smith doesn’t attack children.
His record showed he has never attacked a child. He’d even told Julia in Strangeways how much he liked them. He’d seemed to empathise with them. So why had he said Nicky might be harmed if Julia didn’t do what he asked?
During the brief silence that followed, a sudden movement dragged her eyes to the green swing doors that led to the tea room.
- 51 -
Sam smiled to himself. Anybody could walk into this dump. Nobody even wanted to see a fucking membership card. Nobody even looked at you as long as you appeared to have a purpose. And did he have a purpose.
He strode across the lobby. Climbed the stairs two at a time. He’d already sussed out the entire layout, whistling through his teeth when he saw the almost deserted showers down the corridor on the right. You never know, he thought. Could come in handy.
Pinpoint Page 19