I Will Make You Pay (ARC)

by Teresa Driscoll

  games Leanne and I used to play when we were small. Dolls’

  hospital. Our favourite. We had a doctor’s kit and would

  diagnose all our dolls’ illnesses and prescribe treatments.

  The memory of the doctor’s kit makes me think again

  of my mother. That camera put in her room. I feel hatred

  suddenly. Anger and a knot of violent thoughts towards the

  man who posted that gross video of my mother’s breathing.

  Her new home has been fully briefed. She’s to receive no

  mail or gifts or anything at all to her room. No visitors

  unless cleared by Leanne or myself. She should be safe now.

  Should be…

  I think once more of that cold water squirted in my

  face. I put my hand up to my cheek, remembering the

  fear of pain and disfigurement. And then I think of what

  my poor mother faces so stoically every single day and

  my fear makes me feel ashamed.

  Finally, I trek to the kitchen to make coffee, a headache

  starting. I’m still trying to process the puzzle of Claire and her charity. Is she a fraud? A trickster? What the hell is going on?

  268

  I Will Make You Pay

  I return to the office with my drink and bury myself

  in more research. It’s good to be working but it’s lik-

  ing diving down a rabbit hole. The deeper you go, the

  weirder it all gets. I find more evidence on social media

  linking Claire and Paul Crosswell. I find an old newspaper

  cutting of a civil court case against him over a security

  contract for a shopping centre. The court case failed and

  there was little press coverage. But with more digging

  I discover that Paul Crosswell was accused of providing

  false promises and disreputable business practices. So –

  Claire and Paul. What exactly are you up to?

  I tap my fingers against my lips. This personal alarm.

  What if it’s a scam? Linked to Paul’s businesses? What if

  this is purely about making money; what if they’re just

  using the women targeted by stalkers.

  I realise I need more evidence. But why would Claire

  make up such a dreadful story about a sister? I realise

  that I am quite possibly on to a very good story here. It

  feels shocking that Claire would dare to try to use me, a

  journalist. But then I think of how vulnerable I must have

  seemed to her when I first made contact. My anger at her

  audacity now morphs to something else. Excitement? Yes.

  The adrenaline is pumping. I’m glad to have happened

  across a proper story after too long out of the office. If

  Claire really is duping genuine victims of stalking, she

  deserves everything I can throw at this.

  I pick up my mobile and dial Matthew Hill’s number.

  He may be able to help me investigate Claire and Paul.

  Also, I need to know what the hell is happening regard-

  ing Alex.

  Is it Alex?

  Is it over?

  269

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Him – before

  He takes two weeks off work and watches Brian every

  day. He takes great care not to be spotted by his gran. A

  hat. Sunglasses. A large scarf wrapped round and round,

  covering his mouth. Shabby clothes.

  Brian is a slob – even heavier now. He must be in his

  late fifties but looks much older. In the past he claimed

  to work for a bus company but there’s no evidence of

  working now. These days Brian doesn’t take his filthy,

  fat self far – mostly to the pub, the off-licence and the

  bookies. But there is a pattern. Good.

  He makes notes on his phone checking Brian’s precise

  movements each day.

  His stomach crawls as he sees that some mornings Brian

  sits on a bench near a children’s play park. Just watching.

  And then he gets lucky. At the same time and on the

  same day each week, Brian makes a trip to the bookies,

  using the long and narrow alley behind the disused ga-

  rages near the old shoe factory. Most people don’t like to

  use that alley. Children are warned to keep away. Only

  a creep like Brian would take that route.

  He checks the alley very carefully. No CCTV cameras

  anywhere near. Good.

  270

  I Will Make You Pay

  He goes back to work and thinks every single day

  about how to do this. He has horrible dreams about the

  past. And then delicious dreams showing Brian’s face as

  he turns and sees him.

  Sees the hammer.

  Just occasionally he wonders if he can really do this.

  But most days he’s surprised to find that he is looking

  forward to it. The full stop. If his gran is determined to

  stay in her flat – if the place really means so very much

  to her – then this has to be done.

  He waits a month and takes another week’s holiday.

  He checks very carefully what to wear to limit the risk.

  Gloves, obviously. But there is so much more to think

  about. Forensics will look for fibres and hairs too.

  He realises that however careful he is, he may be

  caught. Still, he finds that it is decided.

  So he packs his change of clothes inside a sealed bag

  in his rucksack. He puts on his gloves, his hat and scarf

  and his sunglasses.

  He checks himself in the mirror. And he feels alive.

  For the first time in as long as he can remember, he

  feels alive.

  271

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Alice

  I jiggle my right foot up and down and glance around

  me. It feels so weird to be back in the editor’s office. It’s Tuesday and I am thinking of that first phone call, when

  Jack brought me in here to report it to Ted. It feels a

  lifetime ago. A different Alice.

  ‘So – are you happy with what Helen has suggested?’

  Ted raises his voice a little as if to draw me back into the

  room. Helen from HR is smiling, gathering her things.

  I uncross my legs and put both feet flat on the floor.

  ‘Yeah. Yeah. Sure. I’ll start back on Thursday. I’ve got

  a good story to work on actually, Ted.’ I see the glint of

  interest in his eyes. The paper may be dying but Ted’s

  hunger for a story is not. He’s old-school and will never

  stop chasing the headlines. I wonder what he will do

  when redundancy comes.

  I wonder what I will do.

  We both wait for Helen to make her excuses and leave

  the room. The compromise is that I’ve had to agree not

  to work Wednesdays until the police feel more sure that

  any threat to me has diminished. I will work Saturday or

  Sunday instead, taking each Wednesday as a day in lieu

  unless and until Alex is charged. The company claims to

  be thinking of my safety but is clearly still worried about

  272

  I Will Make You Pay

  what might happen on their premises. I suspect insurance

  might be an issue, quite apart from the moral debate.

  ‘So, here’s hoping it really is all over for you, Alice.’

  Ted is leaning back in his chair. ‘Right. Let’s hear what

  this story’s about.’

  I look
at him and wonder if I should tell him that

  other truth. Who I really am. How I tricked him into

  giving me this job in the first place.

  No. Not yet…

  ‘Got some more digging to do, Ted. But it’s someone

  trying to rip off victims of stalking.’

  His expression changes completely.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I say. ‘I know what you’re thinking but

  I can make this work without making it a totally personal

  piece. I’ll find other victims. Hopefully someone local to

  comment other than me.’

  He tilts his head.

  ‘It’s a good story, Ted. I have more work to do but

  it’s about someone making up nasty stories to win people

  over and make a fast buck.’

  ‘I thought we agreed no personal crusades, Alice.’ He

  looks anxious. ‘We can’t be drawing attention to you on

  this topic. Not until the guy targeting you is caught, so if

  you work on this story, you keep me fully in the picture.

  No risk-taking.’

  ‘Promise.’

  Ted pauses then, frowning. He shuffles some pieces

  of paper before continuing.

  ‘Look. I’ve not found this easy, Alice. Stuck in the

  middle with HR breathing down my neck. I want you

  to know that we’ll do your own case justice, when the

  time is right; when they nail the guy. Trust me, we’ll

  put the bastard on the front page, but I need a charge

  273

  Teresa Driscoll

  and a case. I’ve just got my hands tied for now.’ He looks

  sheepish. Maybe even guilty? I don’t know what to say

  in reply. I do feel upset that HR made me take holiday.

  But I haven’t been straight with Ted myself, so who am

  I to judge? ‘We’ve missed you in the office, Alice. The

  place hasn’t been the same without you. And we’ve all

  been worried.’

  I feel touched. Ted never talks like this. I just nod my

  thanks as my phone buzzes. A message from Gill, one

  of the campaigners over the demolition of Maple Field

  House. I’ve already sneakily told her I’m back on the story

  full-time. She wants to meet up to go over coverage of the

  demolition. I daren’t tell her yet that I’m not supposed to

  be working Wednesdays. I’ll need to find a way round it.

  I stand and move across to open the door, noticing

  again who’s in the office and who is missing.

  ‘Is Jack out on a story?’ I glance across at my empty

  desk and Jack’s space alongside it, then back at Ted.

  ‘Late shifts this week. He’s definitely been missing you.

  Like a bear with a sore head.’

  ‘He just misses me fetching his coffee.’ I try to sound

  light as I leave Ted’s cubicle. I chat briefly to the three

  others bashing away on deadlines and then head out to

  my car.

  I phone Gill to confirm I’m properly back from my

  break. She suggests doing a feature on one of the families

  already moved from the flats to a new house with a gar-

  den. She wants the story on the demolition to focus on

  the positives going forward. I agree and promise to talk

  it over further. Families are moving into new homes in

  phases. A lot are still in temporary accommodation while

  the new housing is completed by the local housing asso-

  ciation. But I need to be careful that I don’t put a gloss

  274

  I Will Make You Pay

  on the situation too soon. I need to check that things are

  moving forward smoothly and that everyone is keeping

  the promises made when the demolition was agreed.

  Next I realise I must decide whether to stay on at

  Tom’s or move back to my own house. I try ringing my

  landlord to double-check that the light fitting has been

  sorted and that the change of locks has been signed off.

  We’ve agreed a new, stricter procedure for who’s allowed

  to handle spare keys for the property, and I need reassur-

  ance all is well before I return. There’s no reply, only an

  answerphone, so I head back to Exeter to Tom’s.

  He’ll be pleased, but I find as I drive that I am thinking

  of Jack – out of sorts while I’ve been off. I feel the frown.

  Why did the office think Jack was on a day off when I

  bumped into him at the café? He said something about

  a teacher-award story but I wonder if he’s working on a

  different story on the quiet that he doesn’t want anyone

  to know about. Maybe something for the nationals?

  Jack’s ambitious. I don’t want to drop him in it with

  Ted if he’s freelancing on the side. I’ll ask him discreetly

  when I see him.

  275

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Him – before

  It was not at all as he expected.

  There was more adrenaline. More blood. More buzz…

  Changing his clothes in one of the disused garages

  afterwards, he can feel his heart still pounding in his

  chest. He always knew this would be the most vulnerable

  time. If someone finds Brian too soon – before he has

  time to change and get away – he will almost certainly

  be discovered.

  It will break his gran’s heart.

  But he has planned well and he finds that he is more

  exhilarated than scared. He moves quickly. He strips the

  bloody clothes and puts them in the bin bag inside his

  rucksack. The blood spurted further than he expected

  and he notices some flecks on the backpack straps. Damn.

  He should have thought to bring a second bag. No mat-

  ter. They are only small specks and he will burn the bag

  along with all the kit later.

  He changes his gloves, hat and scarf – careful to have

  brought spares of each. And then he sets off across the

  derelict car park past the old shoe factory, over the fence

  and across the patch of rough grass, weaving his way the

  mile back to his car.

  276

  I Will Make You Pay

  He has checked all the camera positions and is me-

  ticulous with his route. He throws the rucksack in the

  boot of the car, on top of a plastic liner, and retrieves his wallet from the glove compartment, taking off the hat and

  scarf so he will appear different – calm and ordinary – if

  picked up on any road cameras.

  He drives home carefully – no speeding – and avoids

  the motorway, then he quickly lights the log burner in

  his small sitting room. He watches the hot flames as he

  cuts up the bloodied evidence, feeding pieces one by one

  into the fire. Then he scrubs his hands and his nails and

  sets out on foot to buy fish and chips, making sure he

  strikes up a jokey conversation with the server. An alibi.

  Just in case. No. I was home. Just watching telly, then fish and chips. Why?

  Later he sits with his chips and his tomato sauce and

  he finds that he is still exhilarated. There is no call from

  his gran. Or the police.

  Nothing on the news yet.

  He looks at the ketchup. And he closes his eyes to

  replay the scene over and over. Brian’s shocked face. The

  thud of the hammer agains
t flesh. And skull.

  The shock at so … much … blood.

  In his head, remembering all those years in school,

  dreaming of power; dreaming of an eagle with sharp

  claws. Swooping. Slashing.

  Dreaming of being a grown-up.

  On such a high now that his grown-up self feels so

  alive; that it was all much more satisfying than he could

  ever have imagined. So that in the end he couldn’t help

  himself in that alleyway earlier; he kept the hammer blows

  coming long after Brian was still.

  277

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Alice

  I place my hand just above the frying pan to test if it’s

  hot enough for the fish. Wow. Searing.

  ‘Not long to supper.’ I raise my voice so Tom can

  hear me in the sitting room but there’s no reply. I stand

  in the doorway to see that he has headphones on. I repeat

  myself even louder. He lifts one cup away from his ear –

  hears me say supper – and gives me a thumbs up. I smile.

  He smiles. I feel quite up this evening. It’s Tuesday still,

  nudging ever closer to the next D-Day, but with Alex

  safely behind bars again, I’m starting to feel a little less

  afraid. And the thought of returning to work has really

  buoyed me. Also – I am moving back into my house on

  Friday. The keys are all carefully logged.

  It’s going to be all right, Alice.

  I twist a little more salt and pepper on to each tuna

  steak before lowering them into the pan, stepping back to

  avoid the first sizzle. I want it to be a nice meal tonight, to thank Tom for his patience. For making me so welcome.

  I haven’t found it easy spending so much time together.

  He knows this, and he knows too that I wouldn’t have

  chosen for us to, in effect, live together like this so soon.

  But it’s been a good bridge and I’m grateful. I can finally

  278

  I Will Make You Pay

  see a path back to calmer times. I just need to be wrong; I

  need the police to say it was Alex after all. That it’s over.

  I check the clock on the kitchen wall and flip the

  fish. Great colour. I feel hungry and reach across the

  counter to pour two glasses of wine as my phone rings

  in my pocket.

  Jack’s name. I feel an involuntary frown – not under-

  standing why he would ring at this hour. We’re eating

  late. ‘Hi, Jack. Sorry. Listen, I’m right in the middle of

  cooking. Late supper. Can I call you straight back?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Alice, but I’m at work and I don’t know