Out Of The Red

by David Bradwell

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “God, are you doing that thing I do, just to be annoying?”

  That, at least, raised a smile.

  “Come on,” he said. “Lead the way.”

  I stopped.

  “Come here,” I said. He came towards me, looking slightly confused. It was big hug time.

  “Can we stop falling out?” I said, as much to myself as Danny. He stepped forward and gave me a peck on the cheek. I put my arms around him, then squeezed him hard.

  We climbed down the steps and onto the main road, passing under the railway bridge. I led the way. We tried to make small talk but without much success. I changed the subject to Leah as we walked past a parade of shops.

  “I just hope she shows up,” I said.

  “Do you think she will?”

  “God knows. It was a weird call, completely off her face most of the time with moments of lucidity. I’ll tell you what I don’t get.”

  “What?”

  “I tried to play piano when I was little and it was really bloody hard. How come musicians can do it when they’re absolutely hammered? It’s like they’re superhuman. I’d appreciate your expert knowledge here.”

  “I was never a great keyboard player.”

  “What? I heard some of your demos. They were decent.”

  “I know. And thanks for that. But it was all programming of sequencers. If I had to play it all live, I’d be rubbish.”

  “Fair enough. Anyway, if she does show, it’ll hopefully help explain the March connection.”

  I looked at Danny but his mind seemed to be elsewhere. I stopped walking. Eventually he noticed and turned back to me.

  “What now?” I asked. He was smiling.

  “I was just thinking about what you said. About the piano. You might have just had a stroke of genius.”

  “What?” I was confused.

  “I’ll explain when we see her, but you’re good. Come on, we’ve got to get going. Tell me what she said about March again.”

  “Not a lot, just that he was a wanker, but that’s nothing new. She just kept referring to ‘bastards’ and said she’d have to be careful. There’s been something going on ever since we first met them. God. That was only like three days ago. Seems like ages.”

  We turned off the high street. It was dark now. It all looked different at night. I was pretty sure I had the right road, but there was still a nagging doubt. Then, in a moment of triumph, I recognised one of the buildings. Along the road I could see the entrance to the studio. Somebody was sitting on the pavement, leaning against the wall. Leah. Thank God.

  We quickened our pace. But as we got closer, something didn’t look right. Was she asleep? Had she passed out? And then as we got closer still, I started to feel a sense of absolute dread. There was a pool of darkness next to her. It was growing. She wasn’t moving. The blood caught the light from a street lamp, giving it an other-worldly sheen.

  “Oh my God,” I said, as I ran towards her. “Leah...”

  But she didn’t answer. She wasn’t moving. Her chest was caked in blood, where it had run from the wound on the side of her head.

  I panicked. My first aid training is minimal, but I immediately knelt down to cradle her. She was still breathing, but it was shallow. Danny was beside me. Everything drifted out of focus. I heard Danny saying something about calling an ambulance. I felt my heart beating faster. I should have been alert to danger but instead I just froze. Everything seemed surreal.

  “Leah, talk to me,” I said. But she was silent. Not moving. Not speaking. Hardly breathing.

  “Come on,” I said. “Leah. You’re okay now. We’re with you. What happened? Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.” But she didn’t squeeze my hand. Her eyes were focused somewhere in the distance. They looked glassy. I could see the life trying to leave her. Her breathing got shallower still.

  “Leah!” I began to lose my mind to shock. Danny joined me. I felt his arm round my shoulders. And yet he was cradling Leah too. Nothing made sense. The world starting spinning. I felt light-headed. My grip on reality was fading.

  “Leah!”

  From behind me I could see flashing lights, bouncing off the wall. I could hear a siren. And then I was being led away. Paramedics were taking control. Two people in green uniforms were crouching beside Leah. More lights. More sirens. And then voices. A stretcher. Leah was being wheeled away. She had an oxygen mask. Where did that come from?

  I was shaking. Where was Danny? There. He was there. Talking to a policeman. And then they were coming for me. And I felt the earth move beneath me. Suddenly I couldn’t see. I couldn’t stand. I couldn’t focus. I was hit by an overwhelming sensation of nausea, but couldn’t find my voice to warn anyone. I couldn’t hear what they were saying to me. I thought I could see three faces, looking at me. Talking to me. But I didn’t hear their voices. My hands and feet were suddenly so cold. I leaned back, against the wall. But the wall wasn’t there. I felt myself fall. Everything seemed to slow down, as though the world had stopped spinning. Nothing made sense. Nothing to hold on to.

  And then everything went black.

  18

  ANNA!”

  I came to. All I could see was Danny, looking at me. Why was he so close? What was happening?

  “Anna, are you okay?” It sounded like Danny. But then I started to focus. It wasn’t Danny. It was someone in a uniform. A woman. She was looking at me. Talking to me. And then the full sense of panic seemed to hit.

  “Where’s Danny?” I asked.

  “I’m here,” he said. I turned and there he was. And I realised he was holding me.

  “What’s happening?” I said. “Leah?”

  “We’re taking Leah to hospital. You need to come with us,” said the woman. She was wearing green. But behind her were more blue lights. Flash, flash, flash. And more uniforms. Police. I started to sit up.

  “Danny...”

  “You’re in shock,” he said. “We’re going to the hospital with Leah. They want to look at you too. Come on.”

  Danny helped me stand. He supported me. I felt drunk. I hadn’t had a drink in days. Well, a day. I could do with one now. Then I could feel drunk. That would make sense. Nothing made sense any more. And then I was in the back of a car, and my eyes started to close. And I felt my body shut down. I could feel somebody holding me. And then I felt myself drifting. I started to dream. The dreams didn’t make sense.

  Suddenly the car stopped. The door opened. The cold air hit me. Woke me up.

  “Come on,” said Danny. “They need to look at you.”

  At me?

  I stood up. I took a deep breath. Everything seemed alien. Why was I at a hospital? And then it all started coming back to me. Leah. Shit. I had an overwhelming urge to talk to a doctor.

  “Danny, I need to see the doctor.”

  “We will,” he said, trying to comfort me.

  “No, about Leah. It’s urgent. Get me a doctor. Now.” He looked at me as though I’d gone mad, but something about my tone of voice seemed to register. Before long a doctor was approaching us. He started to talk but I cut him off.

  “You don’t understand,” I said. “You’ve got our friend here. Leah. Sorry I don’t know her surname. It’s just I think she may have taken drugs before being attacked. I thought you should know.”

  “Drugs?”

  “Yes. No idea what. I spoke to her earlier. She was out of it. I just didn’t want you giving her some painkillers or something and giving her an overdose.”

  Clearly my lack of drug knowledge was a disadvantage in these circumstances.

  “I just... I just want her to be okay,” I continued. My voice sounded feeble, even to me.

  The doctor gave me a reassuring smile, thanked me, and left in apparent urgency. I don’t know if it made any difference. I felt better for saying it though.

  We got set for a hard night in A&E. By the time somebody came to see me, the shock had worn off. I felt fully
back to normal, aside from a slight shakiness, as though I hadn’t eaten for days. I’d like to say the cup of tea from the vending machine helped, but in truth it was bloody awful. Never trust a vending machine when it comes to tea. I’m pretty confident that’s the first rule of life.

  Once I was given a clean bill of health, our thoughts returned to Leah. She’d been rushed through to intensive care. We moved to the waiting area next to her ward. I tried to call Holly, but again there was no answer.

  At about 2am a doctor came to see us.

  “Are you the next of kin?” he asked.

  That sounded ominous. We explained we were friends. I didn’t know if she had any next of kin. All I knew was that at some point she’d been homeless. I realised I didn’t really know anything except that it was becoming an ever-bigger mess.

  “How is she?” I asked. Danny gripped my hand.

  “She’s unconscious, but alive,” he said. “She’s in the very best place.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Obviously it wasn’t good, but it was a whole lot better than it could have been.

  “You should go home,” he continued. “She’s stable. She’s going to be here a while.”

  “Can we see her?” I asked.

  “Not tonight. Call us tomorrow and we’ll give you an update. With any luck, she’ll be okay for visitors in a couple of days.”

  “A couple of days?”

  “She’s in a bad way, I’m afraid. She’s going to be drifting in and out of consciousness and heavily sedated. It could be longer. Call us and we’ll keep you updated.”

  I thanked the doctor. Danny called for a cab to take us home. It was just after 3am. He looked pale. Worried. We didn’t speak much on the journey in case we were overheard. When we got in I was keen to talk, but Danny insisted we should go to bed. I tried to protest but I was exhausted. I didn’t think I’d sleep. That was my last thought until morning. Given what followed, it was good that I’d had a chance to recharge.

  19

  Wednesday, April 6th, 1994

  SAMUEL Elmhirst-Banks was watching the BBC breakfast news when his phone rang.

  “Seb,” he said.

  “Are you watching the news?” she asked.

  “I’ve just seen it.”

  There was silence. He broke it.

  “What the fuck is happening?”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “No? So what exactly do I think? Come on, tell me.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you think. It’s under control.”

  “I’m sorry?” The clipped words betrayed the growing anger in his voice.

  “I didn’t mean it like that. Of course it matters what you think.”

  “Let me tell you this. I’m trusting you to be my eyes and ears in this. And what I think is that it’s fast turning into a fucking disaster.”

  “It really isn’t.”

  “Really? Because from where I’m sitting, we’ve got one person dead and another in intensive care and March is still doing whatever the fuck...”

  “Just don’t panic, okay?”

  “Don’t panic? Is that what you think I’m doing? That I’m panicking?”

  “No, I’m not saying that. Just trust me. It’s under control.”

  “Really? Which bit of staying out of the news equates with being the lead fucking story on the BBC?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “You’d better not be bullshitting me. Do I need to reiterate just how fucking serious this could be if it all gets out of control?”

  “It won’t.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “Too fucking right you’re on it. Stick to him like superglue and everyone he speaks to. And especially any fucking journalist who shows an inkling. Start with this Churchill bastard. And call me. Regularly.”

  “I will.”

  “Damn right you will.” He slammed down the phone. Outside, it was raining heavily. The dark clouds loomed ominously, but they paled to nothing compared to his ever-worsening mood.

  * * *

  I was barely out of the shower when I heard the doorbell. That’s weird, I thought. And then I had a sudden feeling of dread that it’d be a big bouquet or something from Mitch, which was just about all I’d need. I grabbed my bathrobe and was heading towards the door, trying to think of excuses for Danny, while at the same time trying to work out why I thought I’d even need an excuse. God, I was confused. This is why I don’t do relationships. I can barely look after myself at times.

  Danny had already opened the door. It wasn’t a bouquet. It was DS Amy Cranston and a colleague I didn’t recognise. They looked serious. He was letting them in. I made my excuses and said I’d get dressed and join them. It was very much a jeans and sweatshirt morning. I felt like I had a hangover, though it was purely the lack of sleep, and the memory of the horror of the night before.

  By the time I made it back through to the living room, Danny was in an armchair, with the two police officers on the sofa. Amy introduced her colleague as DC Anil Jachuck. He seemed to be the appointed note-taker. They all had a cup of tea, and Danny indicated one he’d made for me, too. The angel.

  “I was just explaining about last night,” he said.

  “How is she?” I asked. “Any news?”

  “She’s in a bad way,” said Amy, “but it’s a bloody good job you turned up when you did. Any longer and, well, it doesn’t bear thinking about.”

  “Any idea who was responsible?”

  “That’s why we’re here. Did anyone else know you were meeting?”

  “Not that I know,” I said. “I hadn’t told anyone other than Danny. I don’t know who she spoke to. I wasn’t even expecting her to be there, to be honest.”

  “And yet it was Leah who suggested the meeting?”

  “Yes, but she was completely out of it. She sounded off her head on something.”

  “Ah, we need to ask you about that.” It was DC Jachuck.

  “Anything I can do to help.”

  “You spoke to a doctor, apparently,” he continued. “Said she might be on something?”

  “Exactly. I didn’t know what they’d give her as a painkiller or a sedative or whatever, but I was worried there’d be a reaction. I thought they ought to know.”

  “And yet we’ve seen the results of the preliminary blood tests. She was completely clean.”

  “What?”

  “The full results will take a few days, but as far as we can tell, there was nothing in her system at all. Not even a trace.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Completely. Not even alcohol.”

  “Wow. Is it accurate?”

  “There’s a limit. If she’d taken something a few days ago, it mightn’t show. But anything in the last forty-eight hours would, depending on the drug. Even the fastest would still be there for twelve hours or so. She definitely wasn’t on anything yesterday.”

  “But she sounded completely hammered.”

  I looked at Danny. That had floored me. Maybe I’d misjudged her completely. He regarded me with a quizzical look.

  “She did!” I protested.

  “Well, unless she was just trying to sound like a cool rock star, it may have been grief,” continued Amy. “Or probably, more likely, fear. If she had any indication of what was going on, she must have been terrified. Did you ever see her take anything?”

  “No, not as such. Actually no, not at all. I just kind of assumed. Jesus.”

  “So, you arranged to meet?” Amy continued.

  “Yeah, I called her. Actually, that’s not true. I called Holly when I heard about Steve but there wasn’t any answer. Eventually Leah picked it up and said Holly had gone away.”

  “Can you talk us through that call?”

  I did my best to summarise, wishing I’d taken notes.

  “So, she said she’d tell you what had happened to Steve?”

  “Along those lines. She said it was worse than I
could imagine but she’d tell me later.”

  “And she mentioned March? Did you ask her about him or did she mention him first?”

  “I did. I just couldn’t understand why he was anywhere near the band, but I’d had a theory.”

  “Which was?”

  “Apparently she’d been homeless. I wondered if that was the connection. Maybe she’d met him at this homeless shelter thing he’s involved in.”

  DC Jachuck was writing at speed, trying to keep up.

  “Okay. I’ll look into that. Did she give you any indication of how he came into it?”

  “No, she just called him a wanker.” I felt a bit embarrassed using the term. Part of me was nervous about swearing in front of a police officer. “I was going to ask more about that yesterday, too.”

  “How did you come to be involved with the band in the first place?” That was DC Jachuck.

  “I’m a photographer. I knew Steve’s sister. She’s a friend of mine. She asked if I’d take some pictures. That’s a point - have you managed to speak to Colette?”

  DC Jachuck shook his head.

  “No, she’s away in Sicily apparently, but we’ve contacted the parents and broken the news.”

  “Any idea on when the funeral will be?”

  “Not at the moment. It’ll be a while before we can release the body.”

  “But can you say anything about it? Does it look like an accident?”

  DC Jachuck looked at Amy. She took over.

  “We can’t say much at this moment. But he was clean as well.”

  That was a relief, of sorts. But then I’d never been in any real doubt where he was concerned.

  “It’s not likely he fell in on his own, then?”

  “I’d say that’s still a possibility but we’re definitely pursuing other lines of enquiry.”

  “Amy?” started Danny. “Actually, is it okay if I still call you Amy while you’re here officially?”

  “Of course, Danny.”

  Oh, here we go. Were they flirting as well? Was this another one I had to worry about? Obviously I appreciate the double standards, given that I was the one with the date tonight, but I could justify that in my own way, even if I’d have difficulty persuading anyone else.