Belief

by Chris Parker

  ‘You didn’t say that before.’ Calvin tensed. ‘You don’t think he nailed the poor little bastard, do you?’

  ‘No chance.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘There was no blood on him. And there would have bin. Christ, I’ve done less than that and bin covered in it.’

  ‘Alright, but on either visit today if he comes out looking like he’s creating a trail the coppers could follow, you let me know straight away. I don’t expect him to get physical, that’s obviously not his way, but you never know what might happen in the heat of the moment. So you keep your eyes open for even the slightest thing. I’ll give you the first address when you leave here. Call me when he’s done to ask for the second address. That’ll be your chance to let me know if it’s getting messy.’

  ‘Gotcha.’

  ‘When this is over I want it to seem like Ethan Hall has just disappeared. I want the cops to think he’s got away somehow.’

  ‘Only he won’t ‘ave.’

  ‘No. Once everything’s complete we’ll go back to the original plan and Mr Hall will find out what happens to arrogant fucks who think they can tell me what to do.’

  ‘Can I be there?’

  ‘Of course. Once he’s had his eyes taken out and his tongue cut off, I might even let you have a minute. A reward for doing a good job.’

  ‘That would be fuckin’ awesome!’

  ‘I’m sure it would be.’ Calvin grinned with the self-satisfaction of a job well done as his enforcer straightened in his chair, anger flashing in his eyes. ‘I’m sure you’ve got plenty you’d like to share with him.’

  ‘I’ll break his fuckin’ jaw!’

  ‘Good man. Just keep that under control until we get to the very end. Clear?’

  ‘Abso-fuckin’–lutely!’

  ‘Excellent. And remember what I said, we save Darren until afterwards. Just think of it as normal, one job at a time.’

  ‘I will. I’m on it, boss.’ Matt hesitated briefly. ‘Can I ask ya a question?’

  ‘Why not?’ Calvin sat back. ‘I think today you’re earning the right.’

  ‘Ta. It’s just that, I wondered ‘ow ya knew t’get Hall out’a Darren’s place before the cops turned up.’

  ‘Aah, that.’ Calvin’s mind flicked back automatically to the phone conversation when Ethan Hall had forced a change to the sequence of events, when he had also insisted he be moved to a safe house that Darren didn’t know about. Calvin spoke without blinking. ‘It’s called reading the game, working out what’s likely to happen and assessing the probability. It’s what I do. It’s what keeps me ahead of everyone else. I told Hall I was moving him out when he insisted on talking to me yesterday. He wanted to make some other changes, but for some reason he didn’t want to do that. I had to insist. Make it clear who was running the show.’

  Matt nodded, just too forcefully. ‘I got it now.’

  ‘Hmm. Well this,’ Calvin scribbled an address on a piece of paper, ‘is the next thing you need to have. That’s where you’re going first.’ He handed it over. ‘Burn it once you’re done with it.’

  ‘’Course.’

  ‘And, remember, make sure no one sees him.’

  ‘Ya can count on it, boss.’

  ‘I am. I’m counting on you to make sure everything works out as planned and that I don’t see anything about this in the news. Now fuck off.’

  37

  Peter Jones couldn’t believe what was in the morning papers. He had first seen the article over an hour ago and since then his disbelief and anger had only grown. When he arrived at Marcus and Anne-Marie’s rented house, he was still clutching a copy of the morning edition.

  Marcus opened the door. Peter flung the paper at his chest as he stormed past. He strode in to the kitchen where Anne-Marie was standing, holding a light blue mug in both hands. There was fear in her eyes. She looked paler more pale and fragile than the last time he had seen her. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t let himself care. There were too many lives at stake.

  ‘What the fuck were you thinking?’ He roared, turning back to face Marcus as he followed him in to the kitchen. ‘Or were you not thinking at all? Were you just off on a Marcus-sized ego trip, desperate to claim back the spotlight you’ve clearly been missing for the last few months?’

  ‘Are they the best questions you’ve got, Detective Inspector?’ Marcus rolled the newspaper, opened the trash bin and dropped it inside. ‘Is this how you skilfully manipulate people in your interview room, how you get them to confess before they even realise they’ve done it? Is this what they teach you at police influence school?’

  ‘You selfish arrogant bastard! You’re still so busy being Marcus Kline you can’t see what you’ve done! That’s the problem! That’s always been the problem! When push has come to shove you’ve never been able to see past yourself.’

  ‘As I recall I’ve seen far enough to have helped you on numerous occasions. And countless other people, too.’ Marcus looked down as he spoke, tapping the fingertips of his right hand against the lid of the bin. His voice was rushed and cold. ‘You can’t do the work I’ve done all my life if you focus only on yourself. You have to know how to be fully attentive, how to forget who you are in order to recognise the reality of someone else. I wouldn’t expect you to understand that. You just need to collect enough facts to make an arrest and get a conviction. Assuming, of course, you can stop the people you arrest from escaping.’

  ‘No, no, no,’ Peter shook his head, ‘you’re not drawing us away from the very real point at hand here. I’m not going to let you turn this into something it isn’t. This is about your very deliberate decision to give an interview to a newspaper journalist, knowing full well and not caring about the fact that by doing so you were potentially jeopardizing any case we could create against Ethan Hall!’

  ‘Jeopardizing! When you first caught him, you said the best you’d got for the three murders we know damn fine he committed was circumstantial! You said the only thing you could prove for sure was that it looked like he was going to kill me in the same way the others had died! You said in a court of law that didn’t automatically mean he was the killer you’d been looking for, that you’d need to lead him into giving himself away when you eventually interviewed him – assuming, of course, that he lived. Well, he fucking lived all right, didn’t he? And now he’s out there somewhere. Close. He’s close. I can feel him. And you’ve no fucking idea where. Or what he’s doing. And you want me to sit back, stay here and do what – focus on writing a book? Pretend that everything will work out and that the good guys are going to win? Is that it? Eh? Is that really the best you’ve got?’

  ‘We’re not talking about the best I’ve got; we’re talking about the almighty fuck-up you’ve created! Don’t you understand that! You’re right. Everything was a real fucking mess until this morning. If it were a game, Ethan would have been winning. But what you’ve just done isn’t like scoring an own goal. It’s like scoring a hat trick of own goals and then taking out your own goalkeeper!’ Peter looked directly at Anne-Marie for the first time. ‘Have you seen it?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Did you know about it?’

  She shook her head again.

  ‘Beneath the heading “The challenge of being me” there’s a detailed account of just what it feels like to be Marcus Kline right now. It’s being pedalled as a unique and moving insight into what the world’s greatest communicator is learning about himself as he goes through crisis.’ Peter snorted and turned back to face Marcus. ‘Believe it or not, this isn’t just about you! There are lots of people involved in this, lots of people at risk, people we probably aren’t even aware of yet. But you have to make it about yourself, don’t you? And you have to go public with it no matter what the eventual consequence. Why? Because you’re Marcus fucking Kline!’

  ‘That’s never been a problem to you before.’

  ‘It’s been a growing problem ever since Ethan Hall appeared on
the scene!’

  Peter paused to draw breath. Marcus looked again at the bin.

  Anne-Marie asked in a quiet voice, ‘Did you talk about us – about me – when you spoke to the reporter?’

  The question made both men turn.

  ‘No. Of course not. It was … a … a personal thing. I made sure of that. I was careful in what I said. I didn’t … talk about anyone or anything else.’

  ‘Why did you do it?’ Anne-Marie’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

  ‘It wasn’t planned.’

  ‘So what are you saying,’ Peter interjected, ‘that you just happened to bump into a reporter on the street and decided there and then to give him an exclusive?’

  ‘Yes. Actually. That’s exactly how it was.’

  ‘Yeah, right! Stop treating everyone like we’re idiots, will you? Sooner or later there’s going to be a conclusion to this, and my job is to make sure it’s the right one! I’m going to do that no matter what shit you continue to throw in my way!’

  ‘There’s not much chance of that happening, when you can’t recognise the truth when you hear it.’

  ‘There’s not much chance of it happening as quickly as it should when you keep forcing me to spend time dealing with your active disruption.’

  ‘Police practice at its best – get minimal facts, lose emotional control, jump to a conclusion and waste time and energy getting everything completely wrong. No wonder crime is on the increase in this country. Our so-called best officers are severely lacking in analytical ability and emotional intelligence. What hope is there?’

  ‘I have every fucking right to be angry! You have no ideas the prices we pay!’

  ‘I thought your job was to care about everybody else and not yourself! I thought I was the selfish bastard?’

  ‘If what you’ve done means our case breaks down I will – ’

  ‘ – You’ll what? Use me as your excuse for being incompetent?’

  Peter’s fists clenched.

  ‘Stop it!’ Anne-Marie shouted and stepped between them. ‘Can’t you see what you are doing to each other? Can’t you feel the damage? How much more destruction do you both want? How much?’

  Her outburst swamped their anger. Marcus pulled back, shaking his head as if fighting tears. Peter relaxed his hands and exhaled slowly.

  Marcus spoke first, ‘I was just walking, trying to get my head together, trying to recreate some sort of inner control. I was struggling – failing miserably – to manage myself. I still am. No great revelation there, eh?’ He half-smiled. ‘The truth is I was on the edge of a breakdown. I’m sure I’m still there. Clinging on for dear life.

  ‘Dave Johnson, the reporter, was hanging around near the office, hoping he’d see me. I didn’t even see him coming. First thing I knew he was in front of me and I couldn’t see a way past. I guess I just lost it. It felt like the only way I could avoid letting go and falling completely was to get angry and fight back. So I did. I gave Johnson a story thinking it would inflame Ethan, or at least draw him out and make him come after me. I figured if I faced him again, and was able to beat him this time it would be the quickest way to bring all this to an end. And, of course, create a foundation to start rebuilding myself from.’ The half-smile returned. ‘It sounds a load of bollocks when I say it out loud.’

  ‘Words echo if we keep them inside for too long,’ Peter said, ‘new thoughts get lost behind their noise.’

  ‘Good line!’ Marcus nodded appreciatively. ‘Where did that come from?’

  ‘Your first book.’ Peter chuckled. ‘The fact you didn’t recognise it really is a sign that your mind isn’t where it normally is.’

  ‘I can’t argue with that.’

  ‘So what happened to the silent internal state you always said was essential for influencing others appropriately?’

  ‘Ethan Hall did.’

  Peter reflected momentarily. ‘Do you need to talk to a professional?’

  ‘I am a professional.’

  ‘You can’t talk to yourself.’

  ‘Really? You should have heard some of the conversations I’ve had.’

  As Anne-Marie listened to them she could feel the warmth returning, their friendship rekindling. ‘Why didn’t you talk to me about how you are feeling?’ She asked.

  Marcus looked up at the ceiling. ‘How could I? We have other, far more important, things to talk about and do.’

  ‘My health is not more important than yours.’

  ‘It is to me. That’s why I couldn’t afford to let go, why I had to be strong.’

  ‘We’re a partnership. We help each other, that’s the deal.’

  ‘I know. It’s just another of the things I’ve lost my way with.’

  Anne Marie reached out and squeezed his hand. ‘But what about Ethan?’ She asked. ‘Isn’t there a real risk that he will respond how you thought and come after you again?’

  ‘I think it’s highly unlikely that Ethan will either want, or be able, to be that brazen,’ Peter said before Marcus could reply. ‘He’s under a very different sort of pressure now, so I think you can relax on that front. And you know I’ll do whatever I can to help both of you. But Marcus I do need you to keep out of the way. Just give yourself time to rest and recover. Do what you need to, between you, to look after each other. Leave Ethan Hall to me and my gang. Remember, as far as we know, he’s done nothing to harm anyone since he escaped. Remember, too, that he’s a novice at hiding and he’s sure he can’t be beaten, so he’s bound to make mistakes. That means we are bound to catch him.’

  ‘Fingers crossed.’ Marcus made the gesture. ‘What prices?’ He asked suddenly.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You said I have no idea about the prices you pay. What prices were you talking about?’

  ‘Oh. Nothing specific,’ Peter licked his lips, ‘the tension, the late hours, the usual police stuff. Nothing that gets in the way of us doing our best work.’

  Anne-Marie put her hand on his forearm. ‘You look after yourself, too. Make sure you keep you and Nic safe just as you are the rest of us.’

  Peter nodded. ‘I need to go,’ he said. ‘I’ve got lots to do. I’ll see myself out.’ He turned and left.

  After the briefest silence in which they both considered different things Marcus said, ‘I am strong enough to keep working with you, you know that right?’

  ‘As long as you are sure. If we have to take a break for a few days I doubt it will make any difference.’

  ‘We don’t need to take a break.’

  ‘In that case, I need you to tell me what you are going to do to look after yourself.’

  ‘Walk,’ Marcus said, ‘I’m going to walk myself back into my best ever form.’

  ‘In the valley?’

  ‘In the city. I need the hustle and bustle. It will provide the measure for how well I’m progressing.’

  ‘You’d better get walking then.’

  ‘I better had.’

  38

  Liam Hemsall had taken to spending time in the countryside. Every morning between 10am and 12pm he drove out along the A614 to Darcliff Wood some nine miles north of Nottingham city centre. He parked his car, a silver grey Vauxhall Astra, and walked alone, following the same pathways, trying to find something new every day.

  It was proving to be his most personal therapy; a time for reflection in a place that reminded him of nature’s inevitable change, its cycle of life, death and rebirth. Liam hoped it would eventually encourage him to look at things with a new perspective, to find new insights and learning, to silence the unwelcome voice that kept filling the space in his mind with its constant, ‘Pull, pull, pull…’

  This morning he had watched a squirrel scurrying and searching. It had occurred to him the squirrel was a perfect example of its kind, that in one sense all squirrels were. ‘So busy just being what you are, there’s no space for questions and doubts and what ifs,’ he murmured. The squirrel stopped when it heard his voice. It half-
turned and looked up. Liam was sure he could see his reflection in its big, round eyes. The squirrel gave him only a few seconds and then set off again.

  Now, as Liam walked he couldn’t help but wonder what life would be like without the fears and challenges of being human.

  ‘It would be boring.’

  The voice startled him. He spun in its direction. His eyes met those of Ethan Hall. They drew him in.

  ‘We are the top of the food chain,’ Ethan said, ‘and that brings with it unusual pressures and obligations. As a counterbalance though we do have the ability to make up our own minds, weigh up the pros and cons of any given situation, and then take the best way out. Who’d be a squirrel at the mercy of its environment when you can be like us, holding the power of life and death in our own two hands? Would you truly change places?’

  ‘I … I don’t know.’

  ‘Yes, you do. Deep inside you know the answer precisely. You’ve just been scared to bring it to the surface. If you don’t believe me just let yourself drift inward, see what you find. It’s a very warm, safe place. Go on, give yourself permission.’

  Somewhere in the back of his brain Liam sensed an alarm. It became an increasingly distant warning, disappearing as what felt like the most comfortable blanket descended gently over his conscious mind. He couldn’t stop looking at Ethan. He couldn’t prevent himself from easing into a state he had never felt before. Time reversed.

  Suddenly he was a child again, safe in his own bed, knowing he needed to get up and face the day but far too cosy to make the effort, choosing instead to snuggle even deeper.

  ‘Mmmm.’

  There was no better place, nowhere more secure.

  ‘I love it here,’ he said.

  ‘Of course you do,’ Ethan replied. ‘And the more you let yourself breathe naturally, the more that place will surround you and protect you. Just listen to my words now and they will lead you back to where you most need to be. And this is only the beginning, Liam. Just imagine a bed that goes on forever. A bed that is the keeper of your most private dreams and hopes and thoughts. A bed that is deeper than the warmest, softest ocean, that draws you down into its absolute promise with every passing second. A bed that is yours and your alone. There with you always. Your special home within your home. Surrounding you now as you breathe and listen and feel how your unconscious knows this so very well and everything is just a dream and every dream just draws you in deeper and deeper and…’