‘Even at my house?’
‘Even in your house.’
‘Inside my house, no, sir—’
‘What choice have you left me? You have a target on your back now, Karen. Do you not understand? You’ll be escorted home, and then two PPOs will be stationed with you. It’s either that, or we send you away entirely.’
‘Sir, please, don’t ground me, we are so close—’
‘DI Holt, it’s decided. Is Sam at home?’
‘No, sir, she’s with her mother.’
‘We’ll send someone to collect her too.’
‘Sir, leave Sam out of this.’
‘DI Holt, I don’t need to remind you how dangerous this man is. Sam is in this because you are. She needs protecting too.’
‘Please, sir—’
‘Karen,’ he warned, leaning back in his chair and removing his glasses. He rubbed his eyes, the exhaustion clear on his face. When he spoke again, his voice sounded fragile, like it might crack at any moment. ‘This has come from way above me.’
I slumped back in my chair, mirroring Bradshaw, and covered my face with my hands. Bradshaw assumed I was trying not to show I was crying and shifted awkwardly. I didn’t want to cry, I wanted to scream, I wanted to tell him they could do whatever they felt necessary, I wasn’t walking away. But I would lose my job, and possibly Sam. I’d already done enough damage driving Sam away and now the police were going to turn up at her mum’s house.
‘Karen, I really wish it didn’t have to be like this, I really do, but you’ve brought it on yourself,’ Bradshaw offered sympathetically.
There was a tap at the door, and after being ushered in by Bradshaw, a young uniformed officer took one small step inside. ‘Ah, your lift has arrived. Will you give us a moment, please? DI Holt will be right out.’
The young officer nodded and backed out of the door, too nervous to speak.
‘They get younger and younger,’ Bradshaw said, trying to smile and lighten the mood.
‘Yes, they do.’
‘Karen, promise me you’ll not do anything stupid?’
I didn’t reply but nodded. ‘Sir, Howard was only talking with me at my insistence.’
‘DS Carlson is his own person. He could have said no, despite how insistent you can be.’
‘He was only looking out for me, sir.’
Bradshaw sighed. ‘He is on thin ice, I hope you realise that.’
‘I understand, sir.’
‘Now, get out of here. No more recklessness. I can’t stop you thinking, so if you have any ideas, you get one of the officers who will be posted at yours to contact me. Say your thoughts, but that’s it. No groundwork, no investigating and for God’s sake, no more videos. Understood?’
‘Yes, sir, can I just apologise to Howard before I go?’
‘Make it quick.’
I left the office, beelining for Howard, who was startled at me approaching.
‘Bradshaw knows we’ve been speaking. Tell him everything we’ve talked about.’
‘What about you?’
‘Bradshaw thinks I’m in danger, so I’ve now got PPOs and am under the strictest orders not to leave the house. It’s shit.’
‘But he’s right. You need to be careful.’
‘Before I go, tell me about the train symbol.’
‘It’s dark green.’
‘Aren’t they usually black?’
‘Yep, but this one is green, and in the smoke there was an image, a lion. It’s the logo for the army cadets.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘It’s pretty similar.’
‘It seems too obvious.’
‘Maybe he’s taking larger risks. He really thinks no one can stop him.’
‘Or he’s getting lazy?’ I said, aware of the young officer behind me wanting to move me on. ‘There are only so many places connected to the cadets. Find him, stop him, Howard.’
From behind I heard Bradshaw clear his voice. He stood in his doorway, arms crossed. He gestured with a nod for Howard to join him before walking back inside, the door left open.
‘Be careful, OK?’
‘I will. Take it easy, Karen. See you on the other side.’
I wanted to hug him, but eyes were watching – Rawlinson’s beady little pair amongst them – so I gave him a nod.
‘DI Holt?’ the young officer interrupted.
‘I’m ready. Let’s go,’ I said as I began making my way to the parking bay. As I got into the passenger seat of the car, and we pulled away, I looked back at the station that had been my second home for over a decade, not knowing if I would ever be allowed back.
Chapter Fifty-Four
The Host
10.53 a.m.
Playing with his little pipe-cleaner figurine, bending her limbs unnaturally, he imagined it was in fact a voodoo doll, and with each manipulation parts of Karen Holt were breaking. Sadly, it wasn’t true, but a nice thought regardless. Drawing it close to his face, he spoke to it.
‘Very soon, you and I shall meet, properly. I’m excited, Karen, can you feel it? A deep, internal buzz of our inevitable coming together. You caught me off guard before. Next time, I’ll be ready. Next time, I’ll be waiting for you.’
Pulling the figurine closer, he tweaked its head, making it perfect.
‘I hope you’re thinking of me as much as I’m thinking of you.’
He set it down carefully, sat back in his chair and sighed. He had to be patient – timing was everything, more so now than ever because of Karen Holt. She would play, when it was time, and to help, he had to use the girl again. She wasn’t to be trusted to facilitate The Game, not after Jim Weston. But her observational skills were useful to him. His instruction to her had been clear – which house to watch, to not be seen or engage with anyone, and to pose as a homeless person again to keep the low profile she had perfected over recent weeks. He had entrusted her to leave the train stencil in a place he’d specified. She had a lot to prove, so he didn’t doubt she would meticulously stencil it in the exact spot.
The next Game had begun, and he would show Karen Holt that she would never be as smart as him.
He reached to pick up fresh pipe cleaners, but remembered that both Players had died in the surprising and challenging Sixth Game. He knew they would fight. Besides Jim Weston, who would have if he’d been there and not the girl, they all fight. But both of them dying wasn’t what he expected. He expected the younger to live and the older brother to sacrifice himself. And as much as the outcome was good for crushing hope in the audience, it annoyed him that there would be no one to join the others on the shelf. No one to understand him, to be like him. The death of both his Sixth Players was yet another deviation from his plan, his vision. But he pushed the annoyance down. Because the Seventh Game was in motion and would be his best work yet.
Chapter Fifty-Five
11.49 a.m.
As we arrived home, I had tried to ask the young officer, Kane, to wait outside as I needed a moment to clean, but he insisted he was under the strictest orders from Bradshaw not to let me out of his sight. I reluctantly showed Kane to my living room before walking into the kitchen to tidy up.
As I washed up the single mug and breakfast bowl, I thought about calling Sam to forewarn her she would be visited by the police, but I suspected they had already made contact. I also wanted to beg for forgiveness for placing her in such a shit situation. I didn’t want to talk to Kane, so I busied myself in the kitchen by filling a jug and watering two plants on the windowsill. Once the jug was empty, I washed it and placed it on the draining board before reaching for the fish food. Pinching a few flakes, I opened the top of the tank to sprinkle it in.
‘Hey, Bo—’
I stopped short. The flakes fell from my fingers onto my shoes and the kitchen floor. Inside the tank, belly up, floated the fish from the night Sam proposed.
The air seemed to stop, the world had become mute, all that existed was me, and the dead fish. And from somewhere deep i
n my stomach, a rising tide of grief that wanted to burst. I thought about that magical night when Sam and I had been so happy. Straw under our feet, the air above our heads lit with a thousand lightbulbs from rides and stalls. The smell of candyfloss.
It was just a fish, just a stupid little fish that had way outlived its life expectancy, and yet, despite knowing that, I began to cry. I was crying because Grayson James resisted arrest. I was crying because I was the one who took James to the ground. I was crying because a man was terrorising the city and I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t cope with a room full of people. I couldn’t ring my own mother through fear she would see straight through the front I’d been putting up. Worst of all, I had pushed away the one woman who’d stood by me throughout. As the tears fell, the front door opened, and I heard Sam’s voice.
‘Please do not follow me – I understand why you’re here but we still need our own space and privacy,’ she said as she kicked off her shoes and stormed into the kitchen.
‘Karen, I hope you realise they just—’
She froze mid-sentence.
‘Karen?’ she said quietly, tentatively taking a step closer. I didn’t move. ‘Karen?’ she repeated. Her tender, urgent tone was too much, and I lowered my head to my chest and began to sob. ‘What’s happened?’ Sam glanced in the direction I was facing and saw Bob. ‘Oh, love.’
‘We got him on the night you proposed.’
‘I remember.’ She stepped towards me, wrapped her arms around me and I sobbed even more.
‘Sam, I’m so sorry. I’m a mess, and I don’t know how to make it better. Are we in trouble? Because of what I’ve done, how I’ve been?’
‘That night, at the fair, when we won Bob, when I got down on one knee and asked you to be my wife, I wanted to be with you to share all the best moments together.’
‘I get it.’
‘But –’ Sam continued, cutting me off – ‘I also wanted to be there for the harder times too. I wanted to marry you because I want to share it all, good and bad, with you.’
‘I’m scared that we are—’
‘Karen, nothing will stop me loving you. Not even all of this.’
‘He is dead, because of me.’
‘Karen, I know we’re not talking about the fish. Grayson is dead because he made a choice. He forced you to respond.’
‘I could have not stepped in to arrest him.’
‘And do nothing when Howard was in danger? If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been doing your job.’
‘I could have stayed on my feet, not gone to the ground.’
‘Your training states you need to go to the ground, doesn’t it? Karen, look at me.’
I met Sam’s gaze and she reached out to catch the tears that fell onto my cheek, wiping them away with her thumbs. ‘You did nothing wrong. Nothing. You can crush yourself with guilt, or you can accept that it was a tragic accident, deal with it and move on. You are in charge of that.’
‘But a man died because of something I did.’
‘He did, yes, he did die. But you can’t let this define you and the career you love. You have to find a way to get past it.’
‘I just want to make it better, that’s all I want to do.’
‘I know, love. I know.’ She kissed me on the forehead and pulled me closer. ‘We’ll get through this together.’
Kane cleared his throat in the doorway, and Sam turned to face him. I looked down at the floor. The other officer who had accompanied Sam home stood awkwardly behind.
‘Sorry to interrupt. We think it would be best if we based ourselves in the kitchen.’
‘Yes, of course, can you give us a moment?’ Sam said. Kane gave a nod, stepping back.
‘Sam, I’m really sorry for doing this to you. I know I’ve messed things up by trying to stop The Host. I just thought if I did, it would make me feel OK again.’
‘I understand, and can I tell you a secret? If it was the other way around, if it was me, I might be trying to stop The Host too.’
‘Really?’ I said, fresh tears beginning to well.
‘Really. Soon The Host will be caught and the IOPC investigation will be over and you’ll be free to return to work. This will all just be a bad memory we can look back on when we are old.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘It will be, I promise. Get out of your uniform; if we are under house arrest, we should at least be comfy. Go on, I’ll sort out in here,’ Sam said, walking to the cupboard under the sink, retrieving a small net. Despite me having been a police officer for so long, and having seen so much in that time, I couldn’t watch her put Bob in the bin. I left the room, coming eye to eye with the police officer who’d brought Sam home. A face I knew, PC Jake Sommers.
‘Hello, DI Holt,’ he said politely.
I didn’t reply, but gave him a nod and went upstairs. In our bedroom I looked outside on the street. A few people milled around, curious as to why there were two police cars outside our property. I closed the curtains, hoping that if I blocked out the world, I would also shut out the Host. Of course, deep down I knew that wasn’t going to happen.
Chapter Fifty-Six
The Host
4.42 p.m.
‘You can go now; I’ll be there imminently.’
‘Shall I wait until you get here?’
‘No, that won’t be necessary. You’ve done what I’ve asked, now the Seventh Player has arrived, I have no need for you to stay.’
‘But—’
The Host hung up, he didn’t have time to mollify her. She had done what he needed; it was now time for him to take over. Grabbing his rucksack and helmet, he made his way to the door. A message pinged through. It was the girl again, infuriatingly. Once he had shared everything with her, but now she had become all but obsolete. Removing his phone, he read her message.
Two other people have arrived, a woman and a little girl? Were you expecting this?
No.
Will it cause any trouble?
He smiled to himself, their arrival was unexpected, but he could use that to his advantage.
In fact, all being well, it will guarantee the outcome I want.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
7.58 p.m.
After dinner, we found ourselves in the living room and the officers stayed in the kitchen. It didn’t take them long to relax enough to make their own cup of tea, which helped us settle too. Still, not an ideal way to spend an evening together.
‘This is a bit shit.’
‘But it won’t always be like this, will it?’ Sam offered, taking my hand in hers. Sam was right, it wouldn’t be forever. One way or another, they would catch The Host. I still hoped he had slipped up, or was blinded by his own arrogance with the last clue. I hoped I’d get a call from Howard, telling me he was in custody, it was over, they had beaten him at his own game. And the IOPC investigation would come to an end, the words definitive in black and white, declaring my innocence, or guilt. I smiled to Sam, squeezed her hand and looked back to the TV. Jake popped his head into the living room.
‘DI Holt, Ms Clarence.’
‘Please, it’s Sam.’
‘Sam, would either of you like a cuppa?’
‘Thank you, Jake. I’m assuming you have been instructed to stay all night?’
‘I’m afraid so, ma’am.’
Jake turned on his heels and made his way to the kitchen to join Kane.
‘Well, I never thought we’d be bringing men home.’
‘Oh Sam. I’m so—’
‘Enough.’ She cut me off. ‘It was a joke, it’s done, besides, it could almost be like a mini-break, right? I mean, we can’t do anything but watch TV, read, talk. It will be kinda nice. Look at us, curled up on a sofa, in our pyjamas with two police officers who look like kids in the kitchen. We are getting old. I swear, if we end up watching MacGyver…’
I smiled. ‘I love that even when things are at their worst, you still manage to see some light. Thank you.’
With
a fresh cup of tea in our hands, courtesy of Jake, and the living-room door closed for a bit of privacy and normality, it was nice to have some much-needed downtime together. We were only half paying attention to the TV playing in the background, some drama about homelessness. As I sipped my tea, my eye glanced upon a young woman whose character had escaped a violent home and had taken to the streets. It reminded me of the two homeless girls I had seen recently.
Then, that familiar, intuitive tug stirred from within. I jumped up, moving quickly to the kitchen. As I entered, both officers sat up straight.
‘DI Holt, is everything all right?’
‘I need to get hold of Superintendent Bradshaw. It’s urgent.’
‘Yes, ma’am, use this,’ he said, handing over his mobile. I took the phone and rang Bradshaw’s office direct. He had barely said his name when I told him my thoughts.
‘Sir, I saw a homeless girl close to the Chinese, and then another along the river on the night John Stroud died. Sir, it’s the same girl, she is the second Host. The girl was out there, she’s vulnerable, she can be reached.’
‘Are you sure it was the same girl?’
‘Yes, sir, I am. She isn’t sleeping rough, she’s posing as someone who is – to watch.’
‘Why pose as someone homeless?’
‘Because people don’t see the homeless, do they?’
‘OK, what does she look like? We can get officers out there to try and find her.’
‘Sir, I know this is going to sound strange, but I can’t shake the feeling she is young, like a college kid.’
‘A college kid?’
‘Yes, sir. No older than eighteen.’
‘How sure are you?’
‘I can’t be a hundred per cent. She looked young, really young. She’s just a kid.’
‘OK. We’ll get onto it, put out a plea for anyone who knows anything. Reassure her she can come to us discreetly, and if she helps, she will be protected.’
‘But don’t make out that we know there is more than one of them doing this.’
The Players Page 23
