Before It's Too Late

by Jane Isaac

  It felt strange leaving the hospital with a policeman. Even now, he was situated outside my apartment. They had arrested a man, but were yet to charge, so the police weren’t taking any chances.

  I could barely believe that I was alive, in my own apartment, with Tom in the front room. Suddenly I realised that for the first time in almost a week I actually felt safe.

  The first sound I heard when I stepped out of the bathroom was the television. The volume was cranked up: blasts, bangs and desperate voices filled the background. A rush of happiness oozed through me. Tom was watching a movie. I could never see the appeal with the action movies, but Tom loved to watch them at high volume so that he felt the true extent of the special effects. At one time this might have irritated me, but it didn’t matter anymore.

  When I entered the lounge I was greeted with another blast and an exploding building on the flat screen in the corner. Tom had his back to me, his body hidden by the armchair he’d pulled in front of the television, one leg hanging over the side. The laces hung loose on his maroon Converse, like snakes hanging from the branch of a tree. I smiled, opened my mouth to speak, then froze. Tom didn’t wear maroon Converse. Neither did my other roommates.

  The chair whizzed around and I came face to face with Lonny.

  “Oh!” I gasped. “You startled me.” My shoulders relaxed. I scanned the room. “Where’s Tom?”

  Lonny didn’t answer. As I looked back at him, I realised there was something odd about him. There was a fire in his eyes.

  I swallowed. “Lonny, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  He stood slowly, his eyes still blazing, mouth shut.

  A muffled call came from the kitchenette. I moved towards it, but Lonny was quicker. He pounced across, blocked my pathway. But he wasn’t quick enough to obscure Tom and the policeman laid out on the floor, their hands bound together behind their backs, their mouths gagged. The policeman stared at me, the whites of his eyes showing, but Tom… he was out cold, his head drooping awkwardly on his chest.

  I looked back at Lonny. The blaze behind his eyes darkened menacingly. When he spoke, he sounded different. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

  “Tom.” I mouthed the word but no sound came out. “What are you doing? We have to help him.”

  He met my gaze. “You don’t want him.”

  I glanced at Tom, willing him to move, to show some sign of life. “I don’t understand.”

  A weird cackle emitted from Lonny’s mouth. A sound I’d never heard before.

  “Lonny?”

  “You’ve really no idea, have you?”

  “What?”

  He edged forward, forcing me back. “You really didn’t guess!” His face was incredulous, as if he was pleased with himself.

  I shook my head. “This isn’t funny, Lonny.”

  “It was me. The person who kidnapped you, who fooled the police, then set up my own kidnap to join you in the hole. It was all me.”

  It was my turn to be incredulous. Lonny? The man I’d helped in the pit, the man I’d shared my food with, the man I’d let cuddle up to me when he was trembling with cold? My mouth suddenly felt bone-dry.

  His eyes turned soft. “I did it because I love you, Min.”

  He stepped forward again. I could feel his breath on my face.

  “I couldn’t get anywhere near you. A popular girl like you would never mix with me. But after you had the chance to get to know me, got close to me… ”

  “But… We tried to escape.” I stumbled over the words.

  “No, I tried. Just not that hard. The grill was unlocked the whole time. How do you think we managed to get out in the end?”

  “We almost ran out of food. You were so angry.”

  A malicious grin curled one side of Lonny’s mouth. “I nearly had you, didn’t I? Go on, admit it. You really started to like me. Until you came out of that hole and met him!” As he spat out those final words, the fire in his eyes was back.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  The moments before death were not as I expected. My life didn’t flash before me. Even as I fought against the binds he tied around my wrists and ankles, all I felt was an overwhelming wave of fear and sadness. It was almost as if the events of the last week had already sucked the life out of my fight.

  I was too young to die. Before I’d finished college and showed the world what I was made of. Before I made my parents proud.

  I watched him lift the knife and run his finger along the blade, his eyes almost mesmerised. He looked up at me.

  My limbs started to tremble. Please, make it quick. No hoods this time, no masks. We don’t need those anymore.

  He crossed the room towards me, stood right in front and angled his head. Suddenly his eyes turned soft, sad even.

  I froze as he reached down and swept his hand down the side of my cheek. He cupped my chin and lifted my face slightly. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed there. There was no sound but the soft ticks of the clock on the wall and the rattle of the bed beneath my juddering limbs.

  His gaze was soft, as if he recalled some distant warm memory. Until something inside him broke his abstraction and his face instantly turned to stone.

  Chapter Sixty

  Lonny moved back, closed the bedroom door and glanced at Min Li, trussed up like a Roman slave. He felt a pang, pulled away. Part of him couldn’t bear to see her like that. But she deserved this. She had brought it on herself.

  “I remember the first moment you spoke to me,” he said. “We were visiting London. You stood in front of me in the queue for the London Eye and said, ‘The view is supposed to be brilliant from the top.’ His eyes turned soft as he recalled the memory.

  “Back at the college you sat beside me in English.” He drew in a long breath. “I loved the scent of your perfume, I could smell it on the books you lent me. And those little smiles of acknowledgement when we passed in the corridor and across campus.”

  Min struggled in her ties, but he ignored her, lost in his reverie.

  “I tried so hard to find a way to get close to you, spent weeks tracing your uncle, working my way into his sordid life: the little man with the yellow teeth, bad breath and naff beige jacket. Only to later discover that he was estranged from his family. Then I thought up the kidnap. It seemed like a dream at first, almost like a comic-strip story.”

  He snorted. “I remember your uncle’s face when I first shared the idea with him. He couldn’t wait to get his grubby little hands on the cash. He was even more excited about the second drop.” Lonny’s face turned grim. “But I was too clever for him. I sold him out to his creditors. He’d be dead before he could rat on me.”

  He averted his gaze. “It was the perfect plan until you flew back into the arms of him.” Lonny glanced briefly back at the door, then turned on Min. “You let me down. Just like the others.”

  He cut off as he cast his mind back. His first attempt had almost worked. The plan had been several months in the making, yet thwarted at the last moment. Ting only wanted to be friends. The sting of unrequited love had poisoned his heart. He couldn’t let her do that – draw him in and let him drop. He couldn’t allow that again.

  Killing Ting had been a lot easier than he’d thought. There was none of the wild rage you read about. It had been easy to persuade her to go swimming in the sea together that afternoon, just as friends. She’d struggled initially as he’d pushed her head below the water, but he’d expected that. In fact, he rather enjoyed the warm rush. It made him feel empowered. And as her body went limp, he’d felt a sense of justice.

  He shot Min a glance as another spear of rejection penetrated him and crossed the room to her bedside, knife in hand. She squirmed around on the bed, every tendon in her body quivering.

  His chest was knotted with a mixture of anger and nauseating guilt at the wretched being that he’d become.

  Slowly he lifted the knife and struck hard, sliding it through the flesh. The pain was excruciating. He was aware of a muffled
shriek in the background, but he didn’t look up. He couldn’t. As the blood started to spurt in ripples from his wrist he changed hands and struck the other side, deeper this time.

  A line of blood spurted out and splattered across the bed. He fell to his knees. Min continued to squirm in front of him, more and more urgently. He stared at her for a split second through the mist that was covering his eyes. She was so beautiful. Just like his mother. The images faded, the pain seared, then darkness descended.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  As I pressed my hand to my stomach, I felt the grief and sadness rest on my shoulders. It was hard to believe that it was gone: the baby that hadn’t been planned, that had been the cause of so much consternation, so much upset. It had gone through so much in its early life. Too much, it seems, for a young life to take.

  The crisp hospital sheets scratched at my skin as I wriggled around in the bed. As much as I tried I couldn’t get comfortable. It seemed ironic that forty-eight hours ago I was stuck in the pit, filthy and hungry, with only a concrete floor and a couple of blankets. Now I was showered and clean, I’d eaten healthy food and had the luxury of a real bed with pillows and blankets to enjoy, yet I felt no comfort from it. The doctor said it was the shock and trauma that brought it on.

  When the inspector came to see me this morning he said that they’d found a whole folder of photos and footage of me on a memory stick in a bag with some duct tape, hidden in the wood near the pit. Fingerprints on the memory stick matched Lonny’s. He must have been watching, filming me for weeks without my knowledge, just waiting for the right moment.

  I could still see the blade slicing through his forearms as if they were slabs of butter, all the time his pupils bearing into mine. Perhaps there is a limit to shock, it all mounts up and when you exceed that limit something inside of you bursts. Or something bad happens. Like you lose your child.

  Thick hot tears snaked down my cheeks. Maybe it would have been better if I had died back there. At least then I could put all those terrible memories behind me. My life wouldn’t be haunted by the darkness that now sat permanently within.

  Tom had been beaten, struck hard on the head and taped up, but thankfully survived. Like the policeman with him, he’d suffered cuts and bruises and a mild concussion, but would be released today. Tom had been allowed to sit beside me this morning, enveloping my hand in his. He’d tried to comfort me, to be brave, but really underneath the creases on his forehead I knew that he was secretly relieved. A baby was the last thing he needed right now. It was the last thing I needed too, although I couldn’t seem to stave off the overwhelming sense of loneliness.

  Later today, my parents would arrive. I wasn’t sure if they knew about the baby. I’d spoken to my mother and father briefly after my escape. That was when I was initially released from hospital. Before the final stretch of my nightmare began.

  I’d decided to go back to China with them, at least for a while. I needed time, to go home, back to what I know, to feel safe and secure, be swaddled in love by my parents. I needed to sit with my father and eat rice noodles, cook with my mother. Only then would the thoughts that swirled furiously around my head start to settle.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Jackman sat next to Alice and took a sip of water. The rim of the plastic cup was split and he flinched as it caught his lip. He’d spent half an hour explaining where he’d been for the last few days, the surprising end to the case. The week felt like a whirlwind and he started to relax as the details flooded out.

  Lonny had taken his twisted obsession with Min to its furthest degree. Qiang Li was just a pawn in his game, the instrument he used to get close to her. The much larger second ransom, Jackman suspected, was intended as Lonny’s payment to Qiang’s killers – they failed to collect it because the area was too open, the move too risky. An almost flawless plan, apart from Qiang bringing Whittaker in to send those emails, a man that could identify Lonny and confirm his association with Min’s uncle. He didn’t bank on hurting his ankle in the pit either, an injury that prevented him from escaping with Min and later retrieving the holdall that contained the memory stick and duct tape covered in his fingerprints. He cast his gaze to the side. “No plan is ever foolproof,” he said gravely.

  Alice was sat upright in her bed. He reached across for the hairbrush and pulled it gently through her hair. It felt soft and silky and shone under the gentle sunlight that filled the room. When he’d finished he lay the brush down and rested her head back. “There, that’s better.” He smiled at her.

  “Janus was all sunshine and smiles this morning when she returned to the office to find we’d closed the case.” He snorted. “But you should’ve seen Reilly’s face. You’d think he’d be happy that we had a charge on the Readman case and a possible link to the Northampton murder. Problem is, Lonny died following police contact. Reilly was furious at the prospect of the case being reviewed by the Independent Police Complaints Commission. Something tells me we’ll be stuck with him in homicide for a while. He won’t want that to be his epitaph.”

  His face fell as his tone grew graver. “There’s talk of another chief inspector’s board at Christmas.” He stared at the floor as he spoke the words, almost to himself. “Not sure if Janus’ll support me, but I’ve gotta go for it, Alice. It might mean working in another area for a while, but I’d make sure I wasn’t too far away.” He rubbed his forehead in thought. “What do you think?”

  Alice stared back at him.

  For the first time in almost a year a tiny thread of hope wrapped itself around him. As he moved away, his elbow caught the corner of the exercise book Celia had placed beside the bed. It made a gentle splash as it hit the floor. He leant down and read the words she had written on the front: For Mum. Never give up hope.

  If you enjoyed Before It’s Too Late, here’s a first chapter sample of The Truth Will Out:

  Eva Carradine’s foot tapped a staccato rhythm as she sat back in her chair and waited for her computer to connect. Green velvet curtains shrouded the window beside her. An umbrella lamp and gas fire combined with the light of her laptop produced a soft hue in the room, just enough for her to view the buttons on her keyboard.

  Naomi’s face appeared on the screen in front of her. No pleasantries were exchanged. No gestures made. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  Eva’s stomach clenched. She stared at her friend’s crumpled face. “Naomi, don’t… We said we wouldn’t talk about this. We promised.” The image on her laptop flickered as Naomi reached across and took a glug from a glass of red. Crisp classical notes rose and fell in the background. “How was work?”

  Naomi shook her head. “Hopeless. I can’t concentrate.” Her glass clattered as it hit the hard surface.

  Eva flinched. “You need to get a grip.” She took a deep breath, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “What if it’s not?”

  Suddenly Naomi turned. For a split second she halted, her head inclined.

  “Naomi, what is it?”

  She whisked back to face Eva. “There’s somebody in the house… ”

  The gloved hand appeared from nowhere. It stretched across Naomi’s mouth gripping her head back tightly, pulling her skin taut across her cheekbones.

  Eva stared at the computer screen in horror. “Naomi?”

  Naomi was pulled away, out of view. Eva heard crashing noises as blurred movements flashed across the screen. Urgent voices were muffled by the tranquil sound of Beethoven’s 6th, still playing distantly in the background. It was surreal, almost in slow motion, as if it were taking place under water.

  Eva’s throat constricted. She leant in closer. “Naomi!”

  A flash in the distance. Somebody approached the screen. The hand. It loomed towards her…

  As it drew nearer, Eva felt the paralysis of fear take over. Just as the hand reached her, she scooted back, adrenalin igniting every muscle in her body with a sudden kick of energy. She fell over her chair, sending a coffee mug and a pile of
magazines crashing to the floor in her scramble to get as far away as possible. A movement flashed over the Skype box on the screen before it went blank.

  Naomi! A sharp pain spiked Eva’s lower back. She pressed her hand to it.

  What should she do? Call an ambulance? The police? No! Not the police. Definitely not the police…

  Ten minutes later, Eva opened her front door and glanced nervously up and down the street. A light carpet of snow covered everything in sight; an icy draught pinched at every bare patch of skin. She rushed past the maple out front, whipping its branches angrily against the relentless wind. By the time she had secured her case, locked her front door and reached the comfort of the driver’s seat, her teeth were chattering incessantly.

  Eva wiped a palm across her forehead, pushing strands of hair out of her face. In desperation, she pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket and dialled Naomi’s number for the umpteenth time. The phone rang out – one, two, three – when it reached six and the answer phone kicked in, the muscles in Eva’s hands were trembling violently.

  She glanced at the clock. The ambulance would be there by now. Eva yearned to see Naomi, make sure she was okay. But going over there could mean… A shiver skittered down her spine. She dialled another number, cursing as it switched to voicemail, leaving a desperate message. Come on, Jules. He had to be there. He promised.

  Eva drew a shaky breath and ignited the engine. It was going to be a very long night.

  Acknowledgements

  A novel is never fully the work of one person and so many people have kindly helped and supported this one along the way.

  I am grateful to Glyn Timmins and Ian Robinson for their input and guidance on not only police procedure, but also the working life of a detective. Thanks also to them and my dear friends Rebecca Bradley and Susi Holliday for reading early drafts and giving excellent feedback.