by Dan Scottow
‘Oh my God!’ someone shouts.
‘Call an ambulance!’ another cries.
A woman screams.
Lucy sits panting, her back against the sill, trying to regain her breath. Her arms feel weak. Head spins. After what seems like an age, she hauls herself up on the edge of the window frame. Leaning out, she looks down to the pavement below. A crowd has gathered round the body, which lies broken on the pavement. A dark crimson puddle spreads out from it. A few of the onlookers glance up, shaking their heads. Others stand with mobile phones to their ears, gesticulating wildly.
Lucy sinks down, rolling onto her back.
Turning her head to the side, she notices something glinting in the corner of her eye.
With the last of her energy, she reaches her arm out, scooping it up from the floor. She closes her eyes, listening as the distant sound of sirens fills the apartment.
103
Christopher Kernick
He waits nervously on a bench. The sun gently warming his back. His hands are clasped in his lap, fingers laced, fidgeting. He had considered bringing a bunch of flowers but didn’t know if that was appropriate, so in the end he brought nothing.
He doesn’t recognise her immediately, as she approaches through the park, but as she draws nearer, he sees her, and knows her face from the news. She smiles, giving him a little wave and perches herself on the edge of the seat beside him. They both stare ahead. She glances around from time to time, as if she’s worried she may have been followed.
‘I wasn’t sure if you’d turn up,’ he says quietly.
‘Why?’
‘You’re on the run, aren’t you? After… what you did to Richard. Although they should be thanking you, really.’
‘Murder is murder,’ she replies matter-of-factly.
‘I suppose I should say thank you,’ Kernick mutters eventually.
‘No need. Honestly. I did this for myself. Your freedom was a serendipitous by-product.’
And it had been. Lucy hadn’t intended to try to free Christopher from prison. It had never been on her agenda. She had been honest with Diana when she said that the experience in captivity with Richard had changed her. Not only did it drive her to leave various weapons concealed in locations around her home, for if the worst were ever to happen, it also made her extremely security conscious.
A top-spec home-monitoring system, with cameras covering all angles of her flat, and noise-activated sound recording equipment, meant that Diana’s entire conversation had been digitally imprinted, and sent directly to Lucy’s phone. Of course, turning this evidence over to the police had also put Lucy on their radar. That was a small price to pay. She’d done so much bad over the last year, she felt it was time to do some good. A penance, if you like.
It’s not like she had anything to stick around for anyway.
She slides her hands into her pockets, fiddling with the object that is nestled there. She’s been in two minds about whether to give it to him, and now as she sits beside him she still isn’t sure.
‘Thanks anyway. It doesn’t change what happened… to either of us. But at least the truth is out. People know what they did.’
Lucy nods.
‘So, Mr Kernick… any great plans?’
He turns to face her, letting out a long sigh. He shrugs.
‘The world is a very different place than I remember. Not sure anyone will want to employ me either.’
Lucy raises an eyebrow.
‘The compensation should help there. Can’t see you would need to work anyway.’
‘What else would I do?’
‘Make up for lost time? Enjoy it.’
He nods, pursing his lips. She glances at her watch, looking about again. Her eyes linger on a smartly dressed gentleman leaning on a tree on the other side of the park. She stands, thrusting her hands in her pockets.
‘I should go. I don’t like being out in public places for too long.’
He nods again. She pulls her hand from her jacket, offering it towards him. He thinks she wants to shake, but realises she is holding something. He reaches out. She drops the object into his palm.
‘Be seeing you around,’ she says.
‘Hopefully,’ he replies, but she has already walked away. She doesn’t hear. She dodges between groups of teenagers and mothers with prams.
Christopher stares down at his hand. A delicate silver crucifix, encrusted with impossibly green emeralds, sparkles in the sunlight. Smiling, he looks back up, wanting to call out to her.
But she is gone.
He slips the jewellery into his pocket. Standing, he turns, heading towards the park gates.
He doesn’t know what he will do, or where he’ll go.
But it doesn’t really matter. He is free.
With a sad smile, he suspects this may be a luxury that Lucy will never be able to appreciate.
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THE END
Acknowledgements
So here I am at book number three. I can hardly believe it. It’s been a difficult year, but writing has kept me busy and focused for the most of it, so I have to thank the readers for giving me something to do!
Also to the usual suspects… you know who you are by now. And to Colin, your help and feedback helps me get things right. Thank you.
To each and every one of you who has bought a copy of my books, I will never stop saying thank you. Haters gonna hate, but it’s the lovers that make everything worthwhile. We just need to learn to listen to them more.
I’d also like to thank Ian, my editor, and the rest of the team at Bloodhound, for continuing to believe in me, and giving me a platform to release my work. It really is a lifelong dream come true for me, and there are still times when I see my books, and almost have to pinch myself.
Last but by no means least, I have to give a special mention to a wonderful author, and now good friend, Keri Beevis, who helped me get this story to where it needed to be. Cheers, Beevis!
Until next time… see you soon!
A note from the publisher
Thank you for reading this book. If you enjoyed it please do consider leaving a review on Amazon to help others find it too.
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