Out Of The Red

by David Bradwell

  “I saw him go in,” she started. “The gunman. And I just suddenly had a very bad feeling. Did you hear two sets of shots?”

  I tried to think back. I remembered now. The second ones had been louder.

  “Actually, yes, now you mention it.”

  “The second of those were me.”

  “What? You shot Danny?” I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing. “What the fuck?”

  “No, I fired into the ceiling. That’s what stopped him. The guy with the gun. That’s why he ran. If I hadn’t, he’d have finished the job.”

  “Hold on, hold on. You fired into the ceiling?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why not just shoot the twat with the gun?”

  “I couldn’t do that. It was too dangerous. I’m not a great shot and there were too many other people. If I’d missed him it could have hit anyone.”

  “So you just shot the ceiling?”

  “It’s all I could do. But it worked. He looked and saw me, saw the gun, and ran for his life. If I hadn’t been there, Danny would have been killed.”

  “Just let me take all this in for a moment.”

  I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the bed and my head in my hands.

  “I...”

  “Shhh.” I needed time to think.

  Eventually I had a deep breath, then turned to look at her. I was having trouble picturing the woman in front of me as the Clare I knew from old, and equally struggled to picture this version as some sort of gun-wielding nutcase.

  “Okay,” I said at last.

  “I called the ambulance too. And the police. As soon as I saw what was happening. That’s why they were so quick on the scene.”

  “It’s a good job they were. But just tell me. If you saw what was happening, or knew it was going to happen, why not just stop it?”

  “I couldn’t. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but as soon as it did, I put an end to it.”

  “So basically, you’re saying you saved Danny’s life?”

  “Basically, yes. And yours.”

  Suddenly I started to feel very faint yet again. I hadn’t even considered that I’d been at risk. Part of me was still assuming it was some sort of mistaken identity thing. Clare passed me a glass of water. It helped but I’d have preferred something stronger.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I said, when my breathing began to resemble something approaching normal.

  “There’s nothing to say. I just wanted you to know, so you know what you’re dealing with.”

  “I...” I paused. The next bit wasn’t something I ever thought I’d say to Clare.

  “Thank you,” I said, at last.

  She reached out for my hand and I let her hold it.

  “You don’t need to thank me. It was the least I could do.”

  It was one of those moments where you suddenly have to reassess everything you know to be true. It was far too much for me to process at this time of the night, after the day I’d just had. I just wanted to sleep and make it all go away.

  “Where’s the gun now?” I asked after a while.

  “It’s safe. But I can get it if I need it.”

  “I may be glad to hear that.” I tried to smile, but it wasn’t altogether successful. “Where are you staying?”

  “At a friend’s house. But I won’t be far away.”

  “I’m glad to hear that too,” I said, surprising myself yet again.

  “I’m not invincible, but I’ll do everything I can to protect you. Both of you. Just be careful though, won’t you? This will all be over very soon but we all need to take care in the meantime.”

  “I will. And I’ll make sure Danny does too, you can be damn sure of that.”

  “That’s good. Listen, the police will want to talk to you tomorrow about what happened. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention me, for obvious reasons.”

  “No, of course.”

  “I’ll give you my number and email address. Let me know if you need me or there’s anything I can do. I understand if you burn them, but I’m on your side now. If you let me.”

  She took a fresh tissue from the box, wrote the details on it and gave it to me. I looked at it, then folded it and put it into the pocket of my jacket. Even her handwriting looked sophisticated. She stood up, then reached down over Danny. I thought she was going to kiss him, but instead she just brushed a stray hair away from his eyes. She squeezed his hand, then turned and walked away. Just before the door, she turned, giving Danny one last look.

  “Take care, Anna,” she said. And then I was back on my own.

  I had so much thinking to do, but before I could try to assess everything, I drifted off into a fitful, uncomfortable sleep, dreaming dreams of being chased, and of a world spinning ever further off its axis.

  31

  Friday, April 8th, 1994

  I WAS awoken by the nurse checking in on Danny before the onslaught of breakfast activity. It hadn’t been the most comfortable of nights. I was still wearing my dress from the night before, I had a stiff neck, and I was badly in need of a shower, but if Clare was to be believed, I should be grateful to be alive. I was desperate to talk to Danny but had to wait while his dressing was changed and his temperature taken. Eventually the nurse said the doctor would be along soon, and left us alone. I took my chance.

  Danny was still feeling groggy, but he smiled at me. I reached for his hand.

  “Have you been there all night?” he asked.

  “I have. You’re such a drama queen. Anyone would think you’d been shot,” I joked.

  He laughed and then winced. It may have been only a flesh wound, but it was evidently still a painful one.

  “What actually happened? It’s all a bit vague.”

  “That’s a good question. Depends who you talk to.”

  “Meaning?”

  “On the face of it, we were just having dinner when some nutcase barged in and took a shot at you.”

  “Christ. I ran, didn’t I?”

  “You did, although you didn’t get very far.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t apologise, I’d have done the same. There is, however, another version.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup. In this one, much the same happened, except we were both saved by your guardian angel who turned up, shot a hole in the ceiling, and caused your man to scarper before finishing the job.”

  He looked at me as though I was speaking a foreign language.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, frowning.

  “Clare. She turned up, apparently, and saved the day. And us, as it happens.”

  “You’re going to have to go back over that. Sorry. These painkillers are stronger than I thought. Clare did what?”

  And so I told him about her visit, and how she’d stroked his arm with tears in her eyes, and then explained how she’d managed to intervene and stop the gunman in his tracks.

  “Do you believe her?” he asked.

  “You know what? Painful though it is to admit, I actually do.”

  “Jesus. Thank God she was there.”

  “I mean, it could all be nonsense, and maybe she was the one who actually shot you, but I think she was telling the truth. We had quite a chat actually. I think I saw a different side of her.”

  “You’re going to have to go slowly, here. You hate Clare.”

  “I think hate’s a bit strong.”

  “Loathe then, if that’s not the same thing.”

  “Again, possibly overstating it.”

  “It’s exactly one of the words you use.”

  “Yes, in one sense, although primarily back in the day.”

  “As recently as yesterday.”

  “Yeah, all right.” This was a bit awkward for me. “I just think maybe she’s shown herself in a different light, kind of.”

  That made him smile.

  “So, you don’t now hate her?”

  “Let’s change the subject. How was yo
ur, ahem, morning in the office yesterday?”

  “My morning in the... Ah.”

  “Indeed.”

  Colour started returning to his cheeks, which I took to be a good sign, medically speaking.

  “Kind of surprising,” he said.

  “The surprise being you didn’t go anywhere near it?”

  “I suppose that’s one way of putting it.”

  “Quite.”

  “Oh, I can’t win. If I’d said I’d been with Clare you’d have gone all moody and refused to go to dinner with me. At least, you would have done yesterday, before you two became the best of friends.”

  “Danny?”

  “What?”

  “Couple of points there. One, I do not go moody, and two, Clare is not my best friend because you are, even though you clearly can’t be trusted. And equally as clearly, it seems I can’t let you out of my sight.”

  “You definitely do go moody though.”

  “I definitely don’t, although I might do in a minute if you don’t behave yourself.”

  The conversation was halted by the arrival of the doctor. I was surprised to see it was the same one as the night before, either on a long shift or starting a new day after not much sleep. Either way I have nothing but utmost respect for the NHS and all those who work within it. While she examined Danny, I took the opportunity to visit the bathroom and splash my face with water, but gave myself a fright in the meantime. I looked dreadful: tired, grubby and with the remnants of make-up smudged in all the wrong places. I checked my phone. There were no missed calls and so no voice mail messages. I did as much as I could to make myself look presentable and then headed back.

  * * *

  A familiar voice called out to me as I approached Danny’s room. I turned. It was DS Amy Cranston and her sidekick DC Anil Jachuck, approaching from the reception desk.

  “How is he?” she asked.

  “Not bad, considering. The doctor’s with him now. How’s everything at the restaurant?”

  “Chaotic, as you’d expect.”

  “Do you know what happened or who it was?”

  She glanced at DC Jachuck, as though unspoken words were passing between them.

  “Investigations are ongoing,” she said. Annoyingly and ironically, she was too straight to give me a straight answer. “We’ve come to take statements from both of you.”

  “Any news of Leah?”

  Another glance.

  “Still the same. She’ll pull through but she’s in a bad way. Is Holly still with you?”

  I gave her the summary, leaving out the bit whereby I’d suspected her of stealing things. I didn’t want them to arrest her, purely on the strength of a hunch, although I doubted that would be top priority in any case, given the current climate.

  The doctor emerged as we talked.

  “How’s he looking?” I asked.

  She knew me, but hesitated when she saw the other two. Amy and DC Jachuck showed their warrant cards as identification.

  “He’s pretty good,” she said at last. “I’d like to keep him in today just so we can keep an eye on things and make sure he doesn’t develop a temperature, but he should be okay to go home tomorrow, all being well. Assuming he keeps making progress.”

  “That’s fantastic news,” I said. “Thank you so much.”

  “My pleasure. It’s always good to have a successful one.” She gave a wry smile. “He’s going to have to take it easy for a few days. I’ve signed him off work for a fortnight and then we’ll see how he is, okay?”

  I hadn’t even thought about work. That wouldn’t go down well, with Danny, let alone with his editor. I made a mental note to call the newspaper and let them know what had happened, and then thought they’d probably already have people on top of it. Nature of the beast.

  The doctor left us to continue her rounds, and we all went into the room. I arranged chairs for the other two and propped myself up on the bed. After a couple of minutes of informal chat, Amy got down to business, asking us what we’d been doing, what had happened, did we have any idea who was responsible, and all that kind of thing. She reiterated that we’d been lucky that something seemed to spook the would-be killer as he’d fled halfway through the task, but I managed to avoid any mention of Clare. Thankfully Danny did the same. We didn’t lie to the police, as such, we just didn’t answer a question that hadn’t been directly asked.

  “The only thing I can think,” said Danny, “is it’s something to do with the story - but I’m coming on to that. Did you have any success with the picture, by the way?”

  “The one of March?” asked Amy. Danny nodded. “I know exactly who it is. It’s very interesting. How did you come about it?”

  “That was me,” I said. “I followed him yesterday and just took pictures. I didn’t know if it’d be important. Who is it?”

  “It’s our friendly politician, Mr Elmhirst-Banks. Or Seb to friends.”

  “Really?” That was Danny, and it was Amy’s turn to nod. “But isn’t he trying to force a cover-up? To save the Met a scandal?”

  “I said I got that impression, but I can’t comment officially Danny, you know that.”

  I could see Danny’s mind working hard through the fug of the painkillers. He propped himself up, winced, and decided against it. I helped to arrange his pillows to make him more comfortable.

  “But this could be huge,” he continued, when he was settled down. “I’ve got loads to tell you on March, but if this Seb guy’s colluding with him to try to bury things, then it’s a fantastic conspiracy.” He turned to me. “Oh Anna, you’ve done very well.”

  I winked, feeling very pleased with myself.

  “We don’t know what they were discussing, though,” said Amy. “It could have been anything.”

  “It could, but it’s a definite new angle. But Christ, if he knew the shitstorm that’s about to hit March, he’d be keeping a million miles away. I almost feel sorry for the guy.”

  “So, what have you got on March?” asked DC Jachuck. It was refreshing to hear him speak.

  “I hardly know where to start,” said Danny. And then he brought the detectives up to speed on how we’d followed March to the massage parlour and then the casino, and our theories about both. He mentioned his own visit to the parlour and how he’d been thrown out, and his subsequent meeting with Aurelia. Then, with a final flourish, he revealed as much as he already knew about the forthcoming events of Sunday. Amy did whatever is the modern police equivalent of a low whistle.

  “I suspect that’s all got something to do with what happened last night,” he finished.

  “Bloody hell, Danny, why didn’t you come to me with all this earlier?” she asked.

  “A lot of it I only found out late yesterday. It was the first thing I was going to do today.”

  She looked at DC Jachuck, who was writing everything down.

  “We’d better be getting back,” she said. “You’re going to be out of action for the next two weeks, according to the doctor.”

  “Officially.”

  “But if you hear anything more, let me know. Utmost urgency, okay?”

  “I will. And likewise?”

  “As much as I can.”

  “Oh, come on, we’re working together on this.”

  “Danny, I’ll do what I can. We’ll speak soon.”

  They said their farewells. I looked at my watch. It was still only just past 8am. Danny seemed to read my thoughts.

  “Why don’t you go back to the flat, have a shower, have something to eat and catch up on some sleep?” he suggested.

  “Because I don’t want to leave you.”

  “I’ll be fine. There’s a policeman outside. I’ll fall asleep in a bit. I don’t know what they’re giving me, but I’m knackered. And anyway, if you do go, could you fetch my ThinkPad and a notepad and pen? And my phone charger.”

  I didn’t need much persuasion. I had the feeling I was going to need to be on top form and that wasn’t going to happen if
I was sleep-deprived and surviving on leftover hospital rations. There was no way Danny was about to take two weeks off work, doctor’s orders or not. It wasn’t even worth me protesting.

  “I’ll call the Echo and tell them you won’t be in,” I said. “Not yet, anyway. At least you’ve got an excuse for missing the deadline.”

  “I wouldn’t rely on it. But thank you.”

  * * *

  Half an hour later, I was home. It seemed strange to be back there on my own when we’d both gone out the night before. I found a packet of four croissants in the kitchen so put three in the oven for breakfast and decided to leave the fourth one for lunch. It was not exactly what you’d call a balanced diet. That would have been having two for breakfast and two for lunch.

  While they were warming, filling the kitchen with a heavenly baking aroma, I phoned the paper and was put through to Danny’s editor. He seemed a bit grumpy, but I assured him it would all be for the best very, very soon. I don’t think he took kindly to that, but he said he’d send someone out to check in on Danny that afternoon. I imagine he was looking for a first-hand account of the previous night’s drama as much as he was concerned for Danny’s welfare, although maybe I’m just getting a bit cynical these days.

  After breakfast, I started to feel incredibly sleepy. I lay on the bed to get undressed to go in the shower, but made the mistake of closing my eyes in the process. Two hours had passed by the time I came round, to the sound of my phone ringing.

  I answered without thinking, half of my mind still asleep and the rest preoccupied with revolving thoughts of the night before. I think I was beginning to suffer from the effects of delayed shock. I’d been so busy with Danny I hadn’t had time to process my own feelings, but a couple of hours of sleep had allowed my subconscious to take over. I suddenly felt very alone, increasingly scared, and significantly confused, but didn’t have time to begin trying to put any of that in order before I automatically pressed the green button to answer the call.

  And that’s probably why I didn’t recognise the voice, once I’d announced myself.

  “Is that Anna?” he asked. “You sound different.”