A Gift for Dying

by M. J. Arlidge

  The road ahead was clear now and Gabrielle didn’t hesitate, ramming her foot down on the accelerator. The car leaped forward with a squeal of tyres, then sped down the street. Gabrielle gripped the wheel a little tighter, sweating, as the adrenaline started to flow. This was it then, this was what the last few days had been inexorably leading to.

  This was the endgame.

  146

  ‘Beg!’

  He roared at her, flecks of spittle landing on her face.

  ‘Beg, you fucking bitch!’

  They were so close that their noses were nearly touching. But still the girl didn’t respond, didn’t react, despite the furious barrage of abuse aimed at her. Enraged, he stepped back and slashed at her thigh repeatedly, ripping the blade back and forth, until her taut flesh was a bloody mess. She looked an abomination – lacerated shoulders, arms cut almost to the bone, blood smeared all over her ravaged face – yet she refused to give in. She refused to be beaten.

  He jabbed the point of the blade into her cheek.

  ‘I’ll cut your eyes out, unless you give me what I want.’

  There was a moment’s confusion in her expression but, as she raised her eyes to his once more, a calm seemed to steal over her. She seemed relaxed, a half-smile still seeming to tug at the corner of her mouth.

  ‘Don’t you smile at me. Don’t you dare smile at me.’

  But his threats seemed empty now. She had no fear of his blade. She had no fear of him. Cursing violently, he turned and walked away. He couldn’t stand the way she was looking at him, as if she were the one in control.

  He marched down the hallway to the front of the house, muttering angrily to himself. Nothing was going as planned, but … if he kept his cool, then everything would still be ok. He would start on her limbs. Sever her arms first, then her legs. Then she’d lick his boots for the chance to be put out of her misery. But there was no chance of that – this one had to be made to suffer.

  Buoyed by this thought, Joseph White stepped confidently into the living room. To find a man with a gun standing right in front of him.

  147

  Adam Brandt hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t this.

  Approaching Kassie’s house cautiously, he’d slid her door key into the lock and slipped inside. In the gloom, it had taken him a moment to get his bearings. The living room was empty, but there were noises coming from the back of the house. A voice, but was it Kassie’s? It sounded too deep, but who else would be here? Surprised, unnerved, he’d fingered the trigger of his weapon. Moments later, he’d heard movement in the hallway and then, without warning, Joseph White stepped into the room.

  Adam recognized him immediately – his face was burned in his memory from that night at Lake Calumet. But what the hell was he doing here? White looked as confused as he did and, for a brief moment, neither man moved. Then, without warning, Adam raised his gun and fired. But White was already on the move, darting back down the hallway, as the bullet slammed into wall.

  Adam hurried after him. The man who had been the architect of so much misery, so much bloodshed, was right here. Creeping up to the hallway entrance, he arrowed a look down it. The hallway was gloomy, but appeared to be empty. Adam thought about flicking on the lights, but deciding that that would make him an easy target, pressed on through the darkness. His gun was raised and he was ready to shoot again if necessary, though he could see his hand was shaking slightly.

  The floorboards creaked ominously beneath his feet, setting his nerves jangling. He assumed the man was in the back room, but there were doors off to the side before that – fertile territory for an ambush. The house was deathly quiet now, there was no sign of the fugitive. Adam expected him to leap out at him at any moment, to slit his throat …

  Screwing up his courage, he reached a door on his left. He eased it open with his foot, and, seeing that the bedroom was empty, spun round, expecting to be attacked from the rear. But the door opposite was still closed, and as he pushed it open, he discovered it concealed only another empty bedroom. Turning his attention to the back room, he took another couple of steps towards the mouth of the hallway.

  Reaching the end, he counted silently down from three, then launched himself into the room. Yet again he received a nasty surprise. The intruder was in the room, as he’d hoped, but so was Kassie, standing by an upturned chair and some severed rope. Her clothing was torn, her bruised face smeared with blood, her arms riven with cuts. Worse still, her left thigh had been cut open almost to the bone, blood oozing from the gaping fissure. The man was standing behind her, a huge cleaver pressed to her throat.

  ‘Take a step closer and I’ll slit her throat.’

  Adam stared at him, stunned. He had come here intending to take the girl’s life and now somebody else was threatening to do it for him.

  ‘Don’t listen to him,’ Kassie suddenly cried, but White dragged the blade down the side of her neck as a warning.

  Kassie broke off, gasping.

  ‘Lower the gun and back away,’ White continued, edging himself and his captive towards the back door.

  Adam kept the gun pointed in White’s direction. He was suddenly a riot of emotions – confusion and doubt the principal among them.

  ‘Not another move,’ White intoned, fumbling for, then opening, the back door with his free hand.

  A rush of cold air filled the room, as the darkness beyond was revealed. Then, tugging Kassie roughly with him, White disappeared from view.

  148

  They stumbled across the yard, locked in a hideous embrace. White angrily kicked away the junk that littered the ground as he dragged his captive towards the back gate. Kassie’s gaze immediately darted to the house, searching for Adam. She had no idea why he had turned up at her home – had he come to help her or harm her? – but she needed him. She couldn’t bear to be abandoned to White’s cruelty.

  And now he appeared, stepping purposefully into the yard, his gun pointing in their direction. White reacted immediately, quickening his pace, as he marched Kassie away. Every step was agony, her mutilated leg threatening to give way at any moment. She groaned in pain, but White showed no mercy, clamping his hand over her mouth, as they continued their clumsy dance.

  But Adam was gaining on them. He was twenty feet away, his weapon raised.

  ‘Don’t do it, man,’ White shouted. ‘Think of the girl.’

  But Adam kept marching towards them.

  ‘You really a killer? You really want her death on your conscience?’

  White’s tone was mocking. It was true Adam made an unlikely killer – with his smart suit and clean-cut features. But it was an image that Kassie was familiar with, one which had haunted her waking hours for years.

  ‘You haven’t got it in you,’ White continued. ‘Nice college boy like –’

  But he didn’t get to finish – a bullet ripping over his head. It missed the retreating couple by a foot or so, but still made Kassie jump. The sound was deafening, the sensation of the bullet flying past terrifying.

  ‘That was a warning shot,’ Adam said grimly, lowering his gun to their level.

  He sounded shaken, but determined. And now for the first time White paused, arresting their progress, wondering perhaps if Adam really would shoot. The gunshot was still echoing through the night air and, as it did so, Kassie saw lights coming on in nearby houses. Lights, accompanied by worried voices. And, as the curtains began to part, as the hubbub of voices steadily grew, Kassie noticed something else.

  Sirens. The night sky was suddenly filled with sirens. Instinctively, she knew they were coming to her aid – multiple vehicles speeding towards her home. White seemed to sense this too, resuming their urgent retreat towards the back gate. Suddenly Kassie was filled with hope. If she could release herself from his grip, if she could buy herself some time, then maybe everything would still be ok. She could escape, White would be captured …

  ‘Not another step.’

  Adam’s instruction was clear, but
his voice was shaking.

  ‘Pull the trigger if you want to,’ White responded grimly, pulling Kassie closer to him. ‘But you’ll have to kill both of us.’

  Adam was ten feet away now – he could hardly miss – but suddenly he looked uncertain, as if, at the very last moment, pulling the trigger on another human being would prove too much. This gave Kassie an opportunity, but the pair were only a couple of feet from the back gate, so Kassie sank her teeth into White’s sweaty hand.

  Her captor roared, withdrawing his hand and loosening his grip on her. Immediately, Kassie lurched forward, breaking free. Adam was within reach now and was already lowering his gun to receive her. If she could fall into his arms, she would be safe …

  Suddenly her head snapped backwards. The impact took her breath away, her vision blurring. She felt as if she might black out for a second, even as she fell backwards, away from Adam. And now she became aware of White’s hand gripping her hair, pulling her towards him.

  ‘No …’

  White ignored her protests, tugging her back, back, back. Adam looked wrong-footed, his gun still pointing at the floor, but White knew exactly what to do. They had reached the back gate and he kicked out viciously at it. The rusty padlock capitulated, crashing to the ground and the chain link gate lolled open.

  And now, too late, Kassie realized how it would play out. Beyond the yard was open wasteland. If White could make it there, he would be free and clear. There was plenty of cover and numerous escape routes – endless tracks and alleyways he could scurry down, even as the police sped to Kassie’s front door.

  ‘Take the shot,’ Kassie gasped.

  Adam reacted, raising his gun. But Kassie’s head, her body, were directly in front of White and this seemed to make him hesitate.

  ‘Don’t let him get away –’

  White’s fingers dug into her open mouth, but she shook them roughly away.

  ‘Do it!’ Kassie implored.

  Adam looked as if he was in pain. If he had come here to hurt her, he certainly didn’t look as if he wanted to now. But Kassie knew what he had to do, how he could end White’s reign of terror. So, even as her captor loosened his grip on her, preparing to make a break for it, Kassie raised her eyes to meet Adam’s.

  For a moment, time seemed to slow – a silent charge passing between the pair – then Kassie screamed:

  ‘Do it now!’

  Grimacing, Adam pumped the trigger – four crisp, clean shots ringing out in the cold spring night.

  Epilogue

  * * *

  149

  A dull shaft of sunlight illuminated their faces. It was just after dawn and Gabrielle Grey stood in her untidy office, staring down at the photos on top of her scattered case files. Everyone else had been sent home – it had been a gruelling night for all – but Gabrielle had returned to headquarters, to gather her thoughts. She had meant to start by putting her case notes in order, but had been stopped in her tracks by the faces – Jones, Stevens, Baines, Varga, and White and Wojcek too – that stared up at her.

  She had never known a case like it and she sincerely hoped she never would again. Perversely, in the final analysis, it had been a personal triumph for her. She had already had a call from the Mayor – he more than anyone was pleased the case was now closed – and Hoskins had hinted at promotion. She hoped to use her elevated status to push for changes in the department – promotion perhaps for Suarez and Montgomery – but still Gabrielle wished the last two weeks could be erased and events rewritten. A city had been terrorized, blood had been shed and many, including members of her own team, had been left traumatized. Nobody should have to endure what they’d been through over the last two weeks. It would stay with them, with her, for ever.

  It defied belief that a human being could behave as White had done. Gabrielle had met many unpleasant characters in her time, but this guy was something else. An animal, who showed no empathy, no compassion, who thrived on his victims’ fear. It was some consolation that he would never trouble anyone else – hopefully he was burning in sulphur right now – but that was no help to the bereaved families, who would never be able to rid themselves of those awful images, the knowledge of what their loved ones had endured at his hand.

  Gathering up the photos, Gabrielle placed them neatly in their files and ordered her desk. She had intended to write up her report now, while events were still fresh in her mind, but suddenly she felt dog-tired. Now she just wanted to go home and embrace Dwayne and the boys. The last few days had been tough beyond measure, sickening and troubling, but it was over now and it was time to embrace life once more. She was, Gabrielle knew, one of the lucky ones.

  She had someone to go home to.

  150

  He had been in these cells many times, but they looked very different from the inside. The stench was familiar, the graffiti the same, but these holding pens seemed somehow smaller today, as if the walls were crowding in on him. Adam Brandt had thought he’d known what it was like to be a prisoner in Cook County Jail, but now he realized he knew nothing at all.

  He was once more in the bowels of the vast prison, but this time he was not wearing handmade shoes or designer clothes. He was in prison fatigues, his possessions, his clothes and his belt having been removed from him, lest he be tempted to take his own life. The irony of that, given all he’d been through, was crushing, but it was one of many body blows he’d had to endure today.

  Grey’s questioning of him was interminable, a source of slow torture, as was the undignified strip search when he entered the prison. The catcalling he’d received from the other prisoners – some of whom he recognized – was to be expected, but the abusive comments, or worse the silence, from prison officers he’d worked with for years cut deep. Worse still was having to complete the mental health assessment, a procedure he himself had devised.

  But none of this hurt as much as the knowledge of what he’d done. He had had no choice of course – he couldn’t let White escape – but, still, he had taken two lives. And that was something he would have to live with for ever.

  In his mind’s eye, he could still see Kassie’s body jerking as the bullets ripped through her, could hear White’s startled groan as the bullets struck him. Instinct had made him pull the trigger – instinct and Kassie’s urging – but still he had been shocked by the scene of human carnage in front of him. Before the gunshots had even faded, White had crumpled to the ground, gasping greedily for the air that would not save him. Kassie followed suit, collapsing on top of the prone figure, her ashen face pointing up at Adam. Her eyes were wide but calm, and a thin trickle of blood slid from her lips. Adam hurried over – too late remembering his real vocation – but his concerted attempts to revive her proved futile. He was still bent over her, exhaustedly pumping her chest, when the police arrived at the scene.

  Two charges of homicide now awaited him. These would need to be confronted head on, for there was no doubting his guilt. The question was whether the case would go to trial and, if so, whether the jury would believe his assertion that Kassie had wanted him to fire. Or would they see him for what he now felt he was – a trigger-happy, blood-soaked killer?

  Time would tell. There was nothing he could do now but wait. Hanging his head, Adam Brandt sat on the prison bunk, staring down the barrel of his guilt. Kassie was gone, Faith and Annabelle too, and now, for the first time, Adam realized that there was a fate worse than death.

  Life.

  151

  The old lady stared into the distance, watching the sun creep above the horizon. She was never usually up this early, but today was not a normal day.

  The nursing staff had grumbled when she’d summoned them to help her. She knew they dismissed her as a mad old Pole who’d long since checked out of the real world, but she still had some steel about her, insisting they dress her and wheel her down to the water’s edge in time for sunrise.

  They had lingered, of course, fearing perhaps that she intended to throw herself into the la
ke, as if she would have the energy for such a thing.

  ‘Are you sure there’s nothing I can bring you? A blanket? Some breakfast?’

  ‘No, thank you. I have all I want.’

  Still the nurse hesitated, clearly unnerved by Wieslawa’s lucidity and sense of purpose. They were more used to her singing nursery rhymes, or muttering to herself, than issuing orders.

  ‘Go, child. I’m quite all right.’

  Reluctantly she withdrew, leaving Wieslawa alone. And now the old woman returned her attention to the lake, drinking in the sight of the sun’s rays stealing across the huge body of water. She knew she should feel sad today, but somehow she couldn’t find it in herself. It was true that she had lost her only visitor, that she would never see her little cukierku again, but both of them had known this moment was coming. And wasn’t it true that it was the ones left behind who really suffered?

  What would Natalia be feeling now? Had the authorities already delivered their grim news? Despite their many troubles, the old woman’s heart bled for her daughter – she knew from bitter experience what it was to lose a child. But Wieslawa herself felt no pain. Kassandra’s gift had always been a curse, as it had been for her, and the poor girl had been tortured by life until the end. But it was over now.

  Would they come to tell her the news today? Or would they think the old goose was too senile to understand, too fragile to endure another bereavement? The thought amused her. Most days she was lost in a haze of painful memory and fanciful abstraction, but today she could see clearer than anyone. Today she could see all.