Killing You Softly

by Lucy Carver

  ‘Did you try to lose him?’

  ‘That was my plan – as soon as I hit the country lanes I was intending to go off-road along the bridle tracks where I knew the Merc couldn’t follow me. Only, I never got that far. Before I knew it he was overtaking me and pushing me on to the pavement, blocking me from getting back on to the road. I had to swing left down the alleyway next to Betmate.’

  ‘And he followed you again?’

  ‘Yeah – big car, narrow cul de sac. There was only one way it could end.’

  I pictured the chase down the dark, wet side street, heard the roar of the Merc engine, could almost smell the petrol fumes Jack would have inhaled as it drew nearer.

  ‘Jack, I’m so sorry …’

  He shook his head but even this small movement was painful. ‘You can say anything you like to me except sorry. This is not down to you.’

  ‘But it is. Whatever anyone says, this wouldn’t be happening if I could just work out what’s staring me in the face.’

  For a while Jack closed his eyes and was silent. His grip on my hand tightened. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze was intense. ‘I’d do anything for you – you know that.’

  I nodded.

  ‘So now you have to do one small thing for me. I know – we don’t usually put pressure on each other, that’s not how we work, but this is important.’

  His hand was round mine, holding tight; his brown eyes looked deep into mine.

  ‘What is it? What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Don’t do anything. Just make me a promise.’

  I nodded slowly.

  ‘Don’t go anywhere alone. You hear what I’m saying? Always keep someone with you, tell a member of staff what you plan to do, where you’ll be, every minute of every day.’

  I sighed and nodded again.

  ‘Because I’m stuck here in this lousy bed, Alyssa, and there’s a killer out there, and it’s driving me crazy that he’s stalking you and making all these threats, kidnapping Galina and crashing into me. So promise you won’t do anything to push his buttons until I get out of this hospital!’

  ,OK, cool,’ I murmured. ‘I won’t go out by myself. I’ll stay safe.’

  Jack seemed satisfied but he still kept hold of my hand. ‘Because I can’t lose you, Alyssa. Not now, not ever.’

  ‘Me neither.’ I could still recall the wave breaking over me, the helplessness and the empty, rag-doll despair. ‘Just get better,’ I whispered. ‘That’s all I ask.’

  chapter eleven

  ‘Where are you going?’ Connie demanded.

  Ever since I’d got back from the hospital earlier in the day, I’d been focused on keeping my promise to Jack. I’d followed my timetable and gone with Hooper to a special English tutorial then I’d met up with the girls for lunch, which is when I’d updated Connie, Eugenie, Charlie and Zara on the latest events.

  ‘We won’t let you out of our sight,’ had been Zara’s fast-as-lightning response.

  I can’t tell you how good that had made me feel. I’d hugged her and nodded, hugged her again.

  Connie had agreed. ‘OK, Alyssa, from now on you can’t even take a pee without telling us.’

  This was how come they’d shadowed me throughout the afternoon, during a French lesson with Justine then afterwards during a free period in the technology centre. And it was why Connie challenged me now as we turned off our computers, ready to go for dinner.

  ‘Come on, Alyssa – where are you going?’

  ‘Actually, I am going for a pee,’ I replied with an embarrassed grin.

  ‘Don’t be too long – I promised I’d hook up with Marco at six thirty,’ Charlie grumbled, while Eugenie grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and reminded the others not to let me out of their sight.

  ‘So, Eugenie, where are you sloping off to?’ Sergeant Major Connie wanted to know. She boxed Eugenie in behind her computer station.

  ‘Out.’ Eugenie zipped up in a hurry. ‘OK, if you must know, I arranged to meet Sammy in the Bottoms. There – happy now?’

  Connie nodded and slowly stepped aside. I watched Eugenie give her a shove in her hurry to leave and I felt a small stab of anxiety.

  Please be careful! I thought as our red-haired diva dashed out into the darkness and I headed for the cloakroom with Zara hot on my heels.

  In the privacy of the grey cubicle I told myself to get a grip. It wasn’t as if every student at St Jude’s was in danger. My stalker wouldn’t be interested in harming Eugenie, only the people really close to me. So get a grip and think, Alyssa – above all, activate that eidetic memory and isolate the one tiny clue that will give you the answers you need. Think, remember – win this surreal game of cat and mouse!

  ‘OK?’ Zara asked when I emerged.

  I rinsed my hands under the tap then stuck them under the drier. ‘Relax. Nothing’s going to happen to me while I’m in the loo.’

  ‘So, I’ve been thinking,’ she said as we rejoined Connie and Charlie then set off together towards the refectory.

  ‘Whoo, Zara’s been thinking!’ Charlie mocked. ‘Watch out, Einstein – you have serious competition.’

  Connie clamped her hand round Charlie’s mouth. ‘Listen and learn,’ she advised our super-confident American friend.

  ‘So – narcissistic personality disorder.’ Totally unruffled, Zara launched into her pet theory. ‘It means a person can’t empathize with his or her victims. Empathy is what stops most of us from doing cruel stuff to other people – we imagine how it would feel to be whacked off our bike by a big old Merc or tied up and gagged then thrown into the back of a car.’

  ‘Bashed on the head then chucked into the canal,’ Connie added for good measure, though it wasn’t necessary to remind us.

  ‘Exactly. Which is the reason why sane people don’t do these things.’ Satisfied that she’d got her message through, Zara fell silent.

  The wind cut through me as we went outside. I hunched my shoulders and braced the wintry conditions.

  Zara again: ‘The second thing I’ve been focusing on is the power aspect. It’s not enough for NPD people just to do bad stuff, they need to show off about it – that would be the reason behind the notes our screwed-up psycho leaves for Alyssa, the song lyrics, the fake photos, the video …’

  ‘That’s definitely him being an arrogant shit,’ I agreed. ‘It’s his “catch me if you can” signature.’

  ‘Which could also be his weak point,’ Zara explained earnestly. She’s going to be a top forensic psychologist, I swear. She’ll be awesome in court, giving evidence against terrorists and serial killers. ‘You see, this guy can’t bear to be overlooked. If you do ignore him, he’s going to get very angry.’

  ‘Wait, wait,’ Connie cut in. ‘You’re saying Alyssa’s best tactic right now is not to respond in any way to these challenges he’s been setting? How does that work exactly?’

  Zara explained. ‘The more you ignore him, the angrier he gets. And an angry person makes mistakes – we know that for sure.’

  ‘Which, when you think about it, Alyssa, fits in exactly with your promise that you wouldn’t do anything to try to catch the guy before Jack gets out of hospital.’ Charlie had the good grace to acknowledge what Zara was getting at. She held the door to the refectory while we went in out of the cold.

  Connie was the one who laid it on the line for me one more time. ‘So do nothing. Step well back. Watch the fireworks from a safe distance – whoosh!’

  This is the way I got through one of the hardest days of my life – with a little help from my friends. I made it to midnight, when I found myself alone in my room and wide awake.

  ‘Hey, can’t you sleep?’ Connie stuck her head round my door. ‘Sorry, I saw the light was on.’

  ‘No, don’t apologize. I was rewatching the video of Galina.’

  Sleepless and tormented, unable to switch off. Sifting through the clues that my stalker had left, laid like crumbs that made a trail through the forest for Hanse
l and Gretel to find their way back home.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  I nodded. ‘Go through it with me. Tell me what you see.’

  Dressed in tennis shoes and summer PJs that revealed goose bumps and a thin band of star tattoos round her tanned upper arm, Connie sat down on one of the spare beds. I angled my laptop screen so she could see the footage of Galina in uniform walking eagerly down the drive. ‘All OK, nothing bad happening yet,’ Connie commented.

  Cut to close up of Galina. She’s smiling in anticipation; her eyes sparkle.

  ‘Bastard!’ Connie muttered, knowing what was coming next.

  Cut. My pulse raced at the sequence showing Galina’s silent scream. Open mouth, terrified eyes. Cut. The eight-second video jerked towards its terrifying end. We saw Galina lying in a foetal position on the back seat of a car. The duct tape over her mouth was silver. Her hands were tied with thin cable, which cut into her wrists. I was staring at the screen, paying attention to a particular detail for the first time.

  ‘What is it?’ Connie asked.

  I’d gasped. The video had ended.

  ‘Alyssa, what are you thinking?’

  ‘Did you see the upholstery?’ I whispered. I could smell the cream leather, feel its recent, soft, seductive contact with my own skin. ‘Don’t you recognize it?’

  ‘No. Come on, tell!’

  ‘That’s the back seat of Marco’s car,’ I told her. One hundred per cent certain, no doubt in my mind – the final sequence of the video showed Galina tied up in Marco Conti’s Aston Martin.

  Action girl Connie immediately forgot her own good advice. Stand back, do nothing – it went clean out of the window the second I identified the cream leather car seat.

  ‘Oh my God!’ she cried, jumping up from the bed. ‘It’s him all along – it’s Marco!’

  I swallowed hard to push down the rising fear inside my chest. ‘It’s his car,’ I said, trying to stay rational. At last I’d found a crumb on the Hansel and Gretel trail that the forest birds hadn’t pecked at. I had something new to work on.

  ‘If it’s his car, then it’s got to be him doing all this crazy stuff! Come on, Alyssa, I don’t care what time it is – we have to call the cops.’

  ‘It’s his car, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s guilty. Say, for instance, the kidnapper used the car to shoot the video but doesn’t actually own it. In fact, it could be a trick – yet another way to mislead us.’

  ‘Jesus, Alyssa – for once in your life will you stop analysing. Pick up the phone, dial nine-nine-nine!’

  ‘Wait. Give me time to work it out. Marco didn’t arrive until the start of term, remember. And Scarlett was murdered early on New Year’s Day, before Marco got here.’

  Still hung up on the evidence from the video, Connie flung open the door and strode down the corridor towards the portrait of Lady Anne. Hearing a disturbance, Zara opened her door and stepped out of her room to join us.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she wanted to know.

  ‘It’s Marco. He’s our guy, but Alyssa won’t call the cops.’

  ‘I’m not saying I won’t,’ I argued. Lights were going on all along the girls’ corridor. Charlie was the next to open her door and join the group. ‘I’m saying wait, let me be sure of what we’ve worked out. Yes, it’s Marco’s car in the video, but no it doesn’t have to mean he kidnapped Galina. For a start, he hasn’t been around long enough to link up with what happened to Scarlett.’

  ‘Why are we talking about Marco? Will someone please tell me what’s going on?’ Charlie pleaded.

  ‘Stand back, give the girl some space.’ Zara’s voice was cool and calm; she was in forensic mode. ‘Connie, cool it. I agree with Alyssa – we need to know exactly what we’re accusing Marco of before we do anything. And, by the way, it’s the middle of the night so it would be a good idea to keep the noise down.’

  Too late – Eugenie appeared in her PJs, grumbling about the racket.

  ‘So the timing’s wrong for Marco to have been involved in Scarlett’s murder, and anyway there’s no way he even knew her. She lives in Ainslee. He’s in Monaco …’ I stopped so suddenly that I almost bit my tongue off. I was immediately into an action replay of a conversation between me and Ursula outside the gates of Upwood House.

  ‘Anyway, Scarlett?’ I’m asking Ursula what she knows about the dead girl.

  ‘Yeah. Really clever but not geeky. Everyone liked her, especially the boys. Alex practically stalked her for a whole term before he found the balls to ask her out. Then, within a week – look what happened.’

  ‘What did happen?’ It’s freezing cold. I’m talking to scary Ursula. She’s asking me to find out who killed her mate.

  ‘You’re the super-sleuth, you tell me.’ Typical answer from the girl who got chucked out of Ainslee Comp for going into school with a pocketful of drugs.

  I tell her I don’t know much, only what I read in the Metro and what Tom told me.

  ‘You actually knew her. What was she like? Was there an old boyfriend who got jealous when she chucked him and started going out with Alex? Where’d she been on New Year’s Eve? Was she at a party? Who with? Did she try to walk home alone?’

  Ursula looks at me through narrowed eyes and lets the questions stack up.

  ‘I’m not standing around waiting for Alyssa to make up her mind,’ Connie said angrily, and she darted into the room she shared with Zara. ‘If she won’t call the cops, I will!’

  Ursula answers an important question. ‘Scarlett didn’t go out with many guys. There were a couple in our year at school and there was one with a foreign name, he lives in Italy.’

  It felt like someone had punched me in the sternum, knocking the air out of my lungs.

  ‘A foreign name. She met him on holiday last summer, but he lives in Italy so I guess he doesn’t count.’

  I repeated the words to myself, finally letting the light go on in my brain by saying the one word that mattered – Marco. Marco. Marco!

  ‘Connie’s right,’ I gasped. ‘Call nine-nine-nine. I have to speak to Ripley.’

  ‘The inspector’s on her way,’ Connie reported after she’d made the call.

  Too stunned to move, we sat on the floor in our pyjamas under Lady Anne’s portrait, shivering in the cold. Charlie had stopped asking questions, thrown a jacket over her PJs, stuffed her feet into a pair of Uggs and sprinted to the staff quarters to inform whoever was on duty.

  ‘Ripley said to stay where we are,’ Connie went on. ‘Especially don’t go anywhere near Marco’s room.’

  ‘That figures,’ Zara said uneasily.

  And I thought of Brains, the notorious NPD kid who had killed both his parents. He was stealing money from their credit cards and had taken a hammer to them when they began to suspect. I thought of Zara’s warning about this type of psychopath who seems meek and mild until the monster is unleashed.

  ‘We’ll wait right here,’ I told the others.

  ‘Where’s Charlie? She’s taking forever,’ Eugenie noticed. She crept to the bottom of the stairs and looked out into the dark courtyard. ‘Marco’s light is on,’ she reported back. ‘And so is Hooper’s. Uh-oh, someone’s turned the boys’ stair light on – OK, don’t worry, it’s only Hooper.’

  ‘What’s with the “only Hooper”?’ he wanted to know as he pushed past Eugenie and took the stairs up to our dorm two at a time. ‘Why are you all out here? Alyssa, what the hell’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing. Well, something – but we can’t tell you.’ Connie took charge as usual. I guess that she was afraid that he might lose it and run back to alert the guys in the dorm, which was the last thing we needed. ‘Honestly, Hooper, you don’t want to know.’

  He gave me a disappointed, hangdog look.

  I shook my head and mouthed that I was sorry.

  Eugenie backed Connie. ‘Don’t anybody tell him.’

  ‘Tell me what exactly?’ he demanded. Surrounded by girls, the wall of silence drove him crazy. ‘Alyss
a!’

  ‘OK, everyone chill – let Hooper and me have a talk.’ Separating myself from the group, I led him down the corridor towards my room where we sat side by side on my bed. ‘We’ve got a situation,’ I told him, hoping to make him understand. ‘It’s sensitive.’

  ‘It must be something really big for that lot to gang up on me.’

  ‘It is, believe me.’

  ‘So they’re saying I can’t be trusted, is that it?’ Hooper gestured through the open door towards the rest of the girls.

  ‘Yes, but don’t take it personally.’

  ‘How else can I take it?’ he argued. ‘Don’t they know about all the work we’ve done together, you and me?’

  ‘Probably not. Anyway, I’m sorry.’

  Frowning, he got up to open the window then gazed out into the darkness.

  ‘Truly, I’m sorry,’ I sighed, glancing at my watch and desperately hoping that Ripley would get here.

  ‘It’s about Marco,’ Hooper predicted, still with his back turned.

  ‘No,’ I replied, but not quickly enough.

  ‘See – you hesitated. That’s a dead giveaway. This “situation” involves Marco, and don’t lie.’

  ‘God, Hooper …’

  He turned angrily. ‘You’re cutting me out, Alyssa. I don’t understand why.’

  ‘OK, OK. But if I tell you, you have to stay here with us until the police get here.’

  ‘OK – deal.’ Watching me like a hawk, he waited for me to go on.

  ‘You won’t do anything stupid – promise?’

  ‘I agreed, didn’t I? You tell me what’s going on. I listen. I hang around until the cops get here.’

  ‘OK, two things. First, Connie and I replayed the kidnap video and it was Marco’s car.’

  Hooper considered the new fact. He didn’t say anything, just gave a quick, short expulsion of breath.

  ‘Two, it turns out that Marco probably knew Scarlett. They met when she was in Italy.’

  ‘Holiday romance,’ he muttered, then laughed. ‘Jesus, Alyssa!’

  ‘I know. I’ve been so slow to remember the details I could cry. So this is why Connie called the cops. And that’s who we’re waiting for now – Inspector Ripley and her guys.’