‘Okay, sergeant. Take it easy now. Have you found the tools he killed them with?’
‘Yes, sir. He hadn’t cleaned them. Both power and hand tools are smeared with blood and tissue. We also broke into a room and found some pretty expensive video equipment. There were photographs there, too. Terrible, awful photo—’
The man broke off to utter a stifled sob. In the front of the car, the driver shook his head slowly, while his companion chewed into his bottom lip and stared at the countryside flashing by.
‘Sorry, sir,’ Coleman said, his voice strong again. ‘We also have the audio recordinlgs. Everything we need to convict the bastard, in fact.’
‘Good work. Look, sergeant, arrange to have everything taken to our operations annexe in Leyton once forensic are done with it. And…get yourself off duty, make sure you have a drink or two before you go home.’
‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’
Nicky blew hard and turned to Frank. ‘We’ve got him, mate. He won’t be going anywhere for quite some time.’
Frank rubbed his eyes. ‘You better believe it. He has to pay for all that, Nicky. Did you hear that poor bastard’s voice? What he’s seen today will stay with him for the rest of his life. Later, maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after, you and I have to prepare our case. We have to listen to those recordings, watch every video, study every photograph. My own daughter will be on some of them. You think there’s any chance we’ll be the same people afterwards?’
It wasn’t a question that needed any answers. The two men turned to look out at the scenery. Not another word was spoken until they reached Brighton.
As Violet and Laura walked side by side along the seafront, occasional gusts of wind toying with their hair, Violet supported the girl with one hand, while the other arm stretched out across her shoulders. They drew stares as they made their way along the promenade and down to the shingle beach: the young girl with the glazed expression, wearing only a flimsy checked dress that was far too short and tight for her; the older woman, buoyant, smile wide and dazzling, wearing a green ankle-length dress and carrying a backpack over her shoulder.
People on the beach assiduously avoided the two figures – they must have looked out of their heads on either booze or drugs, Violet guessed. But that was perfectly all right by her. She was glad of the space as she approached the cool shadows stretching out from the pier.
‘I told you this was a wonderful place,’ she trilled. She hugged Laura closer, their gait becoming more awkward. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t find Dolls in Wonderland, though. Maybe it isn’t open any more. Maybe I was looking in the wrong place. It’s been a long time. Still, there’s a lot of new things to see. That marina wasn’t here before. All those boats … so beautiful. The amusements are better, too. And the aquarium. I don’t remember it being that good before. If it was even here. This is such a wonderful place. Don’t you just love it?’
Laura said nothing, and if she heard and understood Violet’s words, there was no outward sign of it. She hadn’t uttered a single word since they were in the doll’s house together. Violet glanced at the girl and smiled as if she had responded anyway.
As they stepped beneath the pier, Violet allowed herself a stifled cry of triumph. She had made it this far. Now there was no turning back. The plan had sneaked into her mind the moment she realised that Larry probably wasn’t going to be coming home to her. The warm sensation that had crept over her was so powerful, so intense, so rich and rewarding, that she thought for a second she might faint. Bright stars flared before her eyes, her stomach gave way to convulsions.
This was what Larry must have been feeling all along. Every time he cut one of the girls, every time he peeled their flesh, every time he drilled into their very souls. No wonder he felt so good afterwards, no wonder he hadn’t allowed her to experience it for herself. He was greedy, selfish. He ought to have shared the pleasure. But now it was her turn to be greedy, too.
She set down the backpack and rummaged around inside for a few seconds. She’d brought several tools with her, and was now having trouble selecting just one. In the end, she chose the simplest of them all. Larry had experimented with a whole variety of tools, so opting for the standard carpet knife seemed like the best thing to do. He would despise her for what she was about to do, but he would appreciate the irony.
Yes, Larry had killed so many. Had drawn ultimate pleasure from so many, but he had been forced to do every one of them away from the eyes of an unsuspecting world. He had skulked in darkness, lacking the strength of conviction necessary to reveal this remarkable sense of completeness in public. His power was now hers, but she was willing to take it one step further. About as far as it could go.
Out in the open.
In broad daylight.
Beneath a fading, but still most potent sun. In full view of whoever wanted to share her experience.
First, she would make sure all eyes were fixed upon her, and then she would use the sharpened tool to take the girl apart piece by bloody piece. She would both laugh and weep as she did so, drawing strength from the horror-stricken faces around her, the sheer incredulity. It was going to be the ultimate rush of power.
Larry had never attained such perfection.
But she would.
They drove to the front, where they were met by a local CID officer. ‘They’ve been spotted,’ he said as Frank and Nicky clambered out. ‘Along the beach, towards the pier.’
Nicky grasped his friend’s arm. ‘She’s alive, Frank. Laura’s still alive.’
Frank didn’t trust himself to speak. It was more than he could ever have hoped for. He told their driver to stay with the car should it be needed in a hurry. The other officer had to remain on the promenade in case Violet Swain managed to slip away and scramble back up from the beach. Then Frank and Nicky, together with the armed officer from the local station, hurried down a concrete ramp to the shingle below.
Out of the cool shadow. Up a rise of stone steps, cluttered with litter discarded by ignorant fools. Onto the pier. The boardwalk was bustling with activity, and if anyone noticed the woman carrying a razor-sharp knife, if anyone thought her odd, none of them stopped to question her.
Violet led Laura further down the pier, heading out toward the incoming tide. When they were halfway along, she stopped, grabbed hold of Laura’s shoulders, and turned the girl to face her.
‘Our time has come,’ she said, leaning forward. Her voice was brittle with emotion. ‘We’re on the brink of a very special moment. I’m so glad you’re going to share it with me.’
She raised her hand to show the girl the Stanley knife. ‘The eyelids first, I think,’ she said, her tone now distant, absorbed in the majesty of what she was about to do. ‘So, you can’t close your eyes to the pain or the beauty of what follows. One of Larry’s little tips.’
Laura stared at her. She said nothing. But in the back of her throat a low moan began to rattle.
They were a hundred yards away from the pier when Nicky’s radio crackled. ‘Loizou,’ he snapped. ‘What have you got?’
‘Woman and girl matching your descriptions spotted on the Palace Pier, sir.’
Nicky looked around, uncertain. ‘Where is that?’ he asked, thumbing the transmit button on the radio.
‘Right in front of you, sir. Sorry, it’s marked ‘Brighton Pier’ now. You want us to join you?’
‘No. You keep looking in your area, just in case it’s a false alarm.’
Frank was already off and running, the armed officer by his side. Nicky caught them up easily, and together they moved back up onto the promenade and across to the pier. As they hammered onto the boardwalk, Frank stopped in his tracks and pointed.
‘There,’ he said.
His eyes zoomed in on his daughter, now just fifty yards away. She was locked in eye contact with Violet, who held something in her hand. Sunlight glinted off its metallic surface. Laura did not appear at all frightened or even concerned. She just stood there as if she were in
some kind of trance, waiting for the woman to strike her down.
‘Let me go on my own,’ Frank said over his shoulder. ‘Let me try to talk her out of whatever she’s planning to do.’
Nicky nodded reluctantly. When Frank was out of earshot he spoke into the radio once more. ‘All officers in attendance. This is DCI Loizou. Targets located on Brighton Pier. Move in on this area and surround the area. And bring up the sniper team.’
The woman’s hand was raised, the blade now just inches from Laura’s face. She turned her head slowly, lines converging into a frown in the centre of her forehead as Frank stepped into view.
‘Please don’t do that, Violet,’ he said.
Frank swallowed back his terror, relieved to have gained her attention. Though his hands hung loosely by his side, implying no threat to her, he felt prepared to move given the slightest opportunity. He was close now. Close enough to hear Laura’s insistent low moan and ragged breathing.
‘You don’t have to go through with this, you know,’ he went on. ‘There’s no need, Violet. Not now.’
‘Yes,’ the woman said, the frown deepening as if she were trying to locate some lost memory. ‘Yes, there is. Larry’s always had it all, everything his own way. Now the only chance I have to…appease him for what I’ve done is to experience the thrill and the incredible charge for myself, while also finishing the job he started. Only I’ll be putting it on display for all to see. Everyone will be able to share my finest moment. He’ll be in awe of me, then. He’ll never touch me again.’
‘But he won’t ever touch you again anyway. We have him in prison. Locked up in a cell. He’ll never get out, Violet. Never.’
She narrowed her gaze and glared at him. ‘Liar. You’re all liars. This bitch pretended she was Sophie, but I remembered what happened to Sophie. She made me remember, and then had to pay for lying to me.’
‘And she will pay. But she doesn’t have to die. And we can’t tie you to anything your brother has done, so even though you may think you have nothing to lose, you really do. You haven’t murdered anyone, Violet. So why go through with this now? We know it was all Larry’s doing, that he was responsible for them all. He’s the one we wanted, Violet. Now we have him, and you can be free.’
A war of emotions tugged at the woman’s features. All at once she looked old before her time, haggard, the violent years she had endured catching up with her in an instant.
‘I don’t know,’ she muttered softly. ‘Maybe you’re still lying, trying to confuse me.’
When she looked at him again he was startled to see tears glittering in her eyes. Gently he said, ‘No, Violet. I wouldn’t trick you. We know what you’ve gone through all these years. You’re a victim as well. Larry is the one who will have to pay. You can still be helped. We will help you. But not if you hurt my daughter.’
Violet shook her head, swinging the blade back and forth. Beyond her, people backed further away, drawing closer to the sea beyond the end of the pier.
‘Maybe I don’t want to be helped. Perhaps it’s better for everyone if I do this.’
She blinked back the tears and shook her head as if to force away any negative emotions.
‘I mean, look at your little girl. She’s a fucking zombie.’ Violet shook the knife in front of Laura, and yanked on the Laura’s arm to pull her even closer. ‘But you know what? She’s my zombie. My puppet. I yank on a string here, she moves; pull on a string there, she moves again. She’s not yours any more. Don’t you understand that?’
Frank raised a hand, palm out defensively. ‘I do. I do understand you, Violet. But this needn’t be the end for you. There’s so much you can do, so much waiting for you out here. Don’t waste the rest of your life, Violet.’
With each statement, he inched closer to them. His eyes never left Violet’s face, though Laura continued to claim his attention. Since he had begun talking with Swain, he was aware of Laura only peripherally, standing there like the blurred edge of a photograph.
‘But it’s not a waste,’ Violet argued, her voice softer now. ‘With Larry gone I have nothing.’
‘No, just the opposite. With Larry gone you have everything.’
‘You wouldn’t understand. For the very first time I am in complete control.’ She turned to glance at Laura, and when she switched back to Frank she was grinning. Confidence renewed. ‘Larry only ever wanted to be better than our father. I want to be better than them both.’
Violet moved to one side and jabbed her arm forward, the blade almost touching Laura’s left eye. Laura neither moved nor blinked. She stood perfectly still, thin bare arms by her sides, shoulders sloping. By now, police officers had circled them and were pushing back the crowd of onlookers that had gathered at both ends of the pier. Those members of the public who refused to look away, gasped or cried out in horror as the blade cut the air.
Frank somehow stopped himself from leaping at the woman, but the muscles in his legs coiled in anticipation. ‘No, Violet!’ he shouted, both hands now raised. ‘If you do that you will be shot, believe me.’
She stood sideways on to him, her gaze switching between him and Laura. ‘You think that bothers me?’ She laughed, as if the very thought were absurd. ‘Kill me and I’ll be with Sophie once more.’
‘And what if you’re only wounded instead? You’ll go to jail, Violet. You know what they do to child killers in jail? They beat them. Beat them every day. That’s when they’re not raping them with anything that comes to hand. They’ll make you wish you’d never been born. How is that better, Violet? Tell me. How?’
When she looked at him this time he saw doubt in her eyes. Fear, too. He knew the moment was upon them: she would either relent or strike. He had seconds; not even minutes.
‘Let her go, Violet,’ he said in a soft, low voice. ‘Let her go and learn to live. Then come with me and you can do the same.’
Frank saw the anguish and confusion in her face, distorting her features. He knew her mind would be awash with lies and deceit, her brother’s words and violent acts, that images of brutality would add weight to his own words. But he also knew that a mind so unbalanced could shun logic and reason, opting finally for an action that would bring about closure. Frank watched the woman’s inner struggle with a sense of impotence, an acceptance of one simple truth: if Violet Swain decided to strike, to thrust that blade up and into his daughter’s eye, even his swiftest response would be too late to save Laura.
Please, he silently implored a God in whom he did not believe. Please make this woman see reason. Allow my little girl to live.
For a moment, time seemed to move out of sync. The world beyond their small group went about its business, yet for them it paused for breath. Then Frank saw something pass across Violet’s eyes, and the woman’s shoulders wilted in the sunshine. She nodded and shook her head at the same time, strange little circles.
‘Take her,’ she sighed. ‘Take her now.’
‘Laura,’ Frank said, blood roaring in his temples, his heart hammering to be free. He held out a hand. ‘Laura, come to Daddy, sweetheart.’
But his little girl didn’t move, didn’t even turn to face him. She simply stood there looking up into Violet’s eyes. Frank walked forward, slowly, edging his way to his daughter’s side. Violet’s head was lowered now, chin tucked way in, her hair hanging in thin, dirty ropes. Frank kept one eye on her as he reached out to take his daughter’s hand.
And as his fingers locked with hers, Laura threw back her head and screamed. In that same instant, Violet moved with incredible speed. Frank’s eyes were off her for only a split second, but it was more than enough to miss the blade slashing up toward his unprotected face. Its finely-honed edge gouged into his chin and moved up along the cheek, missing his eye by a hair’s breadth along its path. It sliced through to the bone, and as his head jerked back reflexively, blood spurted out of the flapping maw she had created.
With one hand, Frank pulled Laura behind him, while the other came up before his blood
y face. He stared in horror as the blade arced down at him once more, but before it could bite deep into his flesh again, a hole appeared in the centre of Violet’s forehead.
As she stumbled backwards, another bullet took her just beneath the chin. Behind the shock so evident in her eyes, there was also a moment of agony as she realised she had been cheated of her ultimate moment. And then there was nothing to be seen in them at all.
Violet Swain’s body was spun around by a third bullet. As she fell she twisted sideways, her back arched, and she toppled over the pier rail to the shingle beach below.
Frank sank to his knees and wrapped both arms around his daughter. He held her tight as he wept with relief, face still streaming blood.
‘It’s okay, sweetheart,’ he whispered through his tears. ‘Daddy’s here now. Everything is all right again.’
Laura Rogers just went on screaming.
68
Frank wanted to personally inform Lawrence Swain of his sister’s death. He wanted to see the man suffer as he himself had been forced to suffer. But when he was done he merely felt shabby and unfulfilled.
Swain said nothing at first, betrayed no outward sign of emotion. He lay back on the narrow bed inside his cell, staring up at the ceiling as if the news hadn’t affected him in the slightest. After a minute of silence, a crooked smile appeared from nowhere. He sat up, swivelled round and placed his feet on the floor, stared into Frank’s eyes.
‘That face of yours looks painful, Frank. Violet did a good job on you.’
Frank’s wound had been sewn back together during surgery that lasted more than two hours, with only some slight nerve damage to consider for the future. That, and a nice scar.
‘Even better than you did. She won’t be doing it again, though,’ Frank reminded him spitefully.
‘Oh, no. She may be dead in this life, Frank, but her spirit exists in another. I know that for a fact. And I will join her there, together with Sophie.’
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