by Jacqui Rose
Shannon didn’t say anything, causing Franny to lean forward on her chair and grasp hold of Shannon’s hand. ‘I said, do you understand? This ain’t a joke, I don’t want any mistakes.’
Sullenly, Shannon sniffed. ‘I’m here ain’t I?’
Staring coldly at Shannon, Franny shook her head. ‘No that ain’t good enough, because if you do mess this up, Shan, I’ll know why. I’ll know that you were smoking that crap instead of doing what I asked you. And that means not only will I tell Vaughn what you’ve been up to, I’ll be sending someone after you, Shan, because if my life’s going to end then so will yours.’
Feeling the hatred brew up inside her, Shannon gazed at the woman sitting next to Franny.
‘What’s she got to do with it?’
Slowly, Franny said, ‘This is Emma and she’s going to help us with Balantyne. Let’s just say she knows him rather well.’
Puzzled, Shannon said, ‘What happened to just retracting my statement?’
‘Like I said on my text, change of plan. You’ll have more fun with this one.’
Emma glanced at Franny, keeping her head down in the busy visitors’ room so prison staff wouldn’t notice she’d slipped across to join the conversation, leaving her solicitor on his own. As she turned her head, Shannon noticed the scar on her face.
‘What’s in it for you?’ Shannon asked her.
Emma gave a half smile. ‘He’s had this coming for a long time.’
Still not sure what was going on, Shannon turned back to Franny. ‘What do you want me to do then?’
‘I want you to listen very carefully to what Emma is going to say. Can you do that?’
As Shannon was about to answer, the wave of nausea suddenly got the better of her, and she vomited the contents of her stomach all over the floor.
Half an hour and several glasses of water later, Shannon had been told what she was expected to do. She looked at Franny and shook her head. ‘I can’t do what you want, I can’t.’
‘Shannon, you can because, simply put, you’ve got no choice.’
‘But …’
Franny stared at her as Shannon trailed off. She spoke over the noise of the visitors’ room, which was filled with young children playing and screaming, letting off steam. ‘But nothing. Save it, I ain’t interested. When it’s done, then you get in contact straight away. No delays.’
‘Why are you doing this to me?’
Franny leant across the table. ‘Shan, stop whining, stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’re free, you’re not the one in prison.’
Shannon burst into tears. ‘You have no idea what I am. You have no idea how sometimes it feels exactly like that.’
Franny stared at her strangely. ‘What are you talking about?’
Thinking of Uncle Charlie, Shannon shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to do this. I just want to be left alone.’
Glancing at Emma, Franny pulled a face. She spoke in a softer tone. ‘You love Vaughn, right? Well just do it for him.’
Shannon raised her eyebrows, but she didn’t say anything, choosing to let Franny continue to talk.
‘That’s all you have to do: think of Vaughn. It’ll make it easier for you and, at the end of the day, Shan, you’ve been doing this most of your life.’
Rubbing her eyes and looking young and vulnerable, Shannon whimpered. ‘But I never wanted this life, and this isn’t fair.’
Losing patience, Franny shook her head. ‘Fair doesn’t come into it. Do you think that it’s fair I’m stuck in this frigging place? Do you think it’s fair that I’m looking at life inside if this ain’t sorted? So, don’t play the fucking victim, Shan. We’ve all got our problems and you did this to yourself.’
Wringing her hands in her lap, Shannon shrugged. ‘I only did what I thought was right.’
‘Right for you and right for Vaughn. Let’s be honest, you wanted to get me out of the way from the beginning. You were jealous, and you were happy to go along with Vaughn’s plan, so now you’re going to go along with mine.’
Emma nodded. ‘Just make sure that you follow everything I’ve told you. That way you can’t go wrong.’
Almost in unison Franny and Emma stood up and as Franny stared down at Shannon she said, ‘And keep your mouth shut, Shan. I don’t want anyone knowing what we’re going to do. This is between us … Remember: mess this up and you’ll be very, very sorry.’
58
That same morning Detective Balantyne walked into the hospital room and looked around. He pulled a face at the empty bed before he went across to the locker to check for Claire’s things. They were gone. All of them.
He was surprised that she hadn’t called him to let him know that she was changing rooms. Sighing he walked into the corridor and gestured to one of the nurses who’d been looking after Claire. He smiled. ‘Hi, could you tell me what room Claire Martin has been transferred to?’
‘Oh, didn’t you know? She’s gone home. She discharged herself.’
Breathing hard, Balantyne’s stare was full of hostility. Angrily he spoke through his teeth. ‘If I’d fucking known then I wouldn’t have had to ask, would I?’ And with that, Balantyne turned on his heel and headed for the exit.
‘Claire? Claire?’ Balantyne walked into Claire’s flat using the key he’d never given back. As usual it smelt of fresh laundry and lavender.
He wandered through the flat, poking his head around the door of the bedroom and then, not finding her there, the kitchen.
‘Claire? Claire, it’s me. Where are you?’
He walked into the bathroom and saw that Claire was in the bath, fast asleep. He sat on the edge of the bath and looked at her as she lay motionless, apart from her chest, which silently rose and fell.
Putting his hand into the water, he spoke. ‘Claire?’
Claire jumped up with fright, splashing the bath water all over the sparkly floor tiles. She put her hand on her chest and closed her eyes for a moment, breathing out slowly. Then she opened them and, in an irritated tone, said, ‘Jesus Tony, you gave me a fright … Anyway, how did you get in?’
‘You gave me a key, remember?’
Claire frowned. ‘That was four years ago, and a lot has changed since then.’
Balantyne shrugged. ‘Well, it came in handy anyway.’
Not feeling fully comfortable, Claire hugged her knees. ‘What do you want, Tony?’
‘What do I want? Now that isn’t very nice, is it?’
Claire smiled but for some reason she started to feel frightened. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that … Look, could we do this tomorrow? I’m a bit tired.’
It was Tony’s turn to smile. He stroked her head, staring at the long operation scar. ‘They told me that you’d discharged yourself. Was that sensible?’
‘It’s only a couple of days early. They said that they were going to release me by the end of the week anyway. They said I was doing well. Of course, I won’t be going back to work for a while, but what’s the point in taking up a hospital bed when I don’t need one?’
Balantyne spoke tightly. ‘Why indeed …’ The room stayed silent until Balantyne spoke again. ‘You seem tense, Claire.’
Claire stared at Balantyne. ‘Do you mind passing me a towel? I want to get out now.’
Balantyne turned to look at the towel hanging on the rail but he didn’t move.
‘Tony, please, the towel.’
Ignoring her request Balantyne placed his hand in the water. ‘Why did you call Officer Gibbs to come and see you?’
‘I … I just wanted to talk to him.’
A dark look came into Balantyne’s eyes. ‘But what I don’t understand is why. Why would you want to mess everything up when it was all going to plan?’
‘That’s not what I was doing.’
Breathing heavily as his anger surged around his body, Balantyne growled, his face turning red. ‘But that’s exactly what you were doing. You betrayed me, Claire, and I don’t take that lightly.’
‘Tony, please, how can you say that?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were discharging yourself? Were you trying to get away from me? Were you trying to avoid me?’
Beginning to shiver, Claire shook her head. ‘Don’t be silly, of course not,’ she said, not sounding or looking very sincere.
Balantyne narrowed his eyes. ‘What are you hiding?’
Claire shook her head. ‘Nothing.’
‘Claire, I know you too well. I can always tell when you’re keeping something from me.’
Without saying anything, Claire stared at Balantyne. She put her head down and then eventually she quietly said, ‘I know.’
Puzzled, Balantyne asked, ‘You know what?’
‘I know that it was you who was driving the car. It wasn’t Emma at all, was it? I remembered everything; it all came back to me.’
Like Claire had done, Balantyne stayed silent for a moment until he said, ‘And I suppose you’re going to report this? Or have you done that already?’
Claire’s voice was gentle. ‘No, I haven’t but I will. You know I have to.’
Balantyne nodded sadly. ‘It was good whilst it lasted, you and me. We didn’t really have a chance, did we? But I suppose you have to do what you have to do, like I do.’ And with that Balantyne grabbed Claire and pushed her under the water.
She splashed about, her legs and arms flailing, struggling as she fought for her life. She tried to scream but each time she managed to come up for air, Balantyne pushed her down under again.
Managing a few words, Claire, panicked and terrified, yelled, ‘Stop, I’m pregnant, you know I’m pregnant. What about the baby, Tony, what about the baby?’
But Balantyne continued to push Claire under the water and as Claire began to run out of strength, he gently placed his hands on her face and pushed; watching her slip further down into the bath. Then he pushed again, only this time a little bit harder, watching her mouth fill with water and staring fixedly into her eyes, which were wide open with panic and fear.
After a couple of minutes, Claire’s body had stopped fighting and Balantyne sat with her in the quiet of the bathroom for a minute, before dragging her limp body towards him and kissing her gently on her lips. Wanting to make it look like an accident, he then pulled her completely out of the water and threw her back as hard as he could against the tiles behind the bath, hearing the crack of her skull as he watched her slip back down under the water.
He stood back and studied the scene, nodding in satisfaction. Anyone who saw this would imagine that Claire had slipped against the tiles and fallen back into the water when she’d been trying to get out.
Suddenly his phone rang, and he jumped. Pulling it out of his pocket, Balantyne saw it was caller withheld. ‘Hello?’
‘Is that Detective Balantyne?’
Watching the blood mix with the bath water, Balantyne tried to sound as neutral as possible. ‘Yes, who’s this?’
‘It’s Shannon. I need to speak to you.’
‘How did you get my number?’
Hesitating for a moment, Shannon said, ‘They … they gave me it when I called your office.’
Thinking that he’d have to have a word with his office about that, Balantyne asked, ‘What’s going on?’
‘I just need to talk.’
‘Where are you now, Shannon?’
‘I’m at your house.’
Confused, Balantyne snapped, ‘What the hell are you doing there and … and how do you know where I live?’
Lying again, Shannon said, ‘I followed you here the other night. I’m afraid to come to the station in case anyone sees me.’
‘You do realise that this is highly inappropriate?’
‘I know, but I’ve been needing to speak to you for a while and I didn’t know what else to do. You see, I’ve changed my mind. I’m afraid of what Franny will do to me if she finds out I’ve been helping you. I ain’t Vaughn. He’ll be all right, he can look after himself, but I can’t … I’m sorry, Detective, I can’t go through with it. I need to retract my statement.’
With his heart beating faster, Balantyne gave one more emotionless glance to Claire before he stormed out of the bathroom. There was no way he was going to let Doyle slip through the net, no way was he going to let her get away with it this time. He was going to bring Doyle down if it was the last thing he did. ‘Listen to me, Shannon, stay where you are. I’m coming. I’ll be there in just under an hour.’
And as Balantyne clicked off the phone, on the other side of London, Shannon closed her eyes, letting out a long sigh at what she was about to do.
59
It was over an hour before Balantyne showed up at his house, having been caught up in traffic on the North Circular, and, annoyed, he pulled up into his drive and turned the engine off. He squinted into the darkness looking to see if he could spot Shannon, hoping that she hadn’t got fed up of waiting.
He needed to stop her doing anything stupid. The whole case was based on circumstantial evidence apart from her and Vaughn’s statements and if he didn’t have that he doubted he had a case.
A loud banging on the back window of his car made him jump for the second time that night. ‘Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!’ He turned around to see Shannon peering through the window and he furiously opened the driver’s door.
‘Did you have to do that?’
‘I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve been waiting around for you for ages, and I’m cold and desperate for a wee.’
Sighing, Balantyne nodded and headed for his front door. Unlocking it and gesturing to Shannon to come inside, he pointed. ‘First door on the right.’
Without saying a word, Shannon went to the bathroom. Balantyne threw down his coat and walked through to the dining room, pouring himself a large drink and refusing to think about Claire, knowing that if he did he’d be angry with her for what she had done; for her betrayal, for her pushing him to do something he hadn’t wanted to do.
By her actions she’d made him not only lose her, but also lose his baby. His child, she was pregnant with his child, and her selfish actions had caused him to lose them both.
With that thought he slammed his drink down on the table just as Shannon came in.
‘Are you all right, Detective?’
Balantyne rubbed his temples. ‘I’m fine. Look, this talk about you not going ahead with your evidence needs to stop. I mean why now, Shannon? Why back out now? You knew what Ms Doyle was like when you gave your original statement … Talk to me, let’s see if we can get this sorted.’
Shannon nodded. ‘Do you mind if I have a drink first?’
Balantyne shrugged. ‘Yeah, of course. Whiskey? Gin? Brandy?’
‘Can I just have some water please?’
‘Sure, no problem.’ He gave a tense smile as he walked out of the dining room into the kitchen, giving Shannon the opportunity she was waiting for. She ran across to the glass that Balantyne was using and out of her pocket she undid the wrap of crushed Rohypnol, which Franny had arranged for her to pick up from one of her contacts.
‘Do you want ice, Shannon?’ Balantyne called from the kitchen whilst Shannon quickly dipped her finger into the whiskey, stirring it around and making sure the powdered tablet was dissolved.
‘That would be nice, thanks.’
With her heart racing, Shannon placed the glass back on the table and back ran across to her chair. She called to Balantyne, hoping to slow him down as she watched his drink gradually stop swirling around after she’d stirred it. ‘Actually, scrap that. No ice, thanks.’
Calling again from the kitchen, Balantyne said, ‘Okay, no problem!’
A couple of minutes later he appeared at the door with the glass of water and Shannon reached out for it.
‘You’re shaking, Shannon.’
‘I know, I think it’s cos I got cold, I’m not feeling too great.’
Balantyne went across to his glass of whiskey and Shannon stared, holding her breath as he began to drink it.
As long as the Rohypnol was dissolved properly then she knew he wouldn’t be able to taste it.
She could almost hear her own breathing as she sat tense and anxious as he finished it off and then stared at the bottom of his glass. Terrified there was still some remaining powder that he’d be able to spot, Shannon tried to distract him. ‘Maybe this is a bad idea. I shouldn’t have come. I’m going to get off.’
Balantyne looked up at her. ‘No, please, wait. Sorry, I’ve got my mind on other things …’ He put the empty glass on the side and then smiled. ‘Look, I’m all yours now. So come on, talk to me. Tell how I can make things better for you. How can I reassure you that everything’s going to be fine?’
Shannon gave a weak smile back then began to talk, waiting and watching for the drug to kick in.
Twenty minutes later Shannon was still talking to Balantyne. ‘So, of course Vaughn says he’ll look after me, but what if he doesn’t? What if he decides to ditch me? What then? Franny will be able to come after me.’
Feeling woozy and not understanding why, Balantyne rubbed his eyes. He spoke but his words were becoming slurred. ‘Sorry, Shannon, what did you say?’
‘I said, I’m worried about Franny.’
‘What? Sorry, I’m not following you.’
Shannon stared at Balantyne intensely. She could see the Rohypnol was beginning to kick in: his eyes were starting to roll and he could hardly respond to what she was saying. Cautiously she got up and walked towards him. ‘Are you all right, Detective?’
Balantyne tried to answer but the room was spinning and he couldn’t quite remember why he was there. He couldn’t remember what he was talking about. Where was he?
‘You look tired, shall I help you upstairs?’
There was no real reply from Balantyne – only a grunt – and Shannon quickly helped him to his feet. She didn’t want him to black out completely before she got him upstairs. Putting his arm over her shoulder, Shannon stood him up and led him towards the stairs, remembering where Emma had told her their bedroom was.