probably not dead. He’s definitely got something to do with your mates at Department G, and that tells me there is more to him than there seems. And that gives credence to your story. So don’t worry about having murdered him, comprende? At least, not yet. What did the police want with you, anyway?
What police? (though somehow I felt I should have known).
Look. I think maybe you’re feeling a little over stressed… I feel a little guilty to be honest, I shouldn’t have let you sit in on that interview, I’m really not sure it was your thing. I was doing it for you, if you can believe that. I just wanted you to see what it was like, that these people, they don’t care about you and they don’t care about life, except their own. They’ve decided on what they’re going to do, and they will do it, whatever you or me or anyone else says. And to be honest, let them. I don’t care, let them fuck off to the land of G or whatever the hell it is – rather they screw up someone else’s world than ours. But listen, mate, your friend Mark, he’s part of it, of that much I’m sure. Look, what we’ll do is this – I will find enough evidence to show his lady that he’s alive and you didn’t kill him. And then I will find evidence to show her that he’s betraying her. And then we leave it alone, because, to be honest, I want as little to do with this as possible. Are you ok, Sylvain?
Honestly, no, I’m not OK, I thought, and I think maybe I threw up and then I think maybe I remembered having seen Mark but I couldn’t for the life of me remember what we’d talked about, except… except…
Anna...
Who the hell is Anna?
We have to find Anna, please, take me there, drive me there!
Calm down, calm down, let’s just talk about this, you don’t want to be running this way and that looking for people. Calm down, tell me who Anna is and why you need to see her.
And I found myself telling Beryl that I knew Mark was alive because I had seen him, and that was it, she needed to stop looking for him, it was fine, he was telling me that he had just got lost and he was coming home and everything would be OK as long as she stopped looking for him, that she must promise me that she would stop right now, just leave him alone please, please would she do that for me. But Beryl looked for all the world as if she didn’t believe me, and she pushed me on a chair and slapped me around the face, hard, until it really hurt, then she went to my kitchen and brought something back and poured it down my throat, and she made me tell her everything again. And as I told her, the memories clicked into place, one by one, to start making sense. I told her about Anna – how I had worshiped her, and then how we had become secret lovers at university, and had kept in touch ever since, even through her many breakdowns, and how I had wanted to keep her safe, and care for her, and look after her, even as I met Sylvia and we were married, but then how we had lost touch and it almost broke my heart until she had written to me, a few days ago, out of the blue, and I had found her, and we were together again and everything was wonderful, until Anna started to lose her mind again and started accusing me of everything, of things that weren’t true, of things she said I had done but I hadn’t because all I ever wanted to do was look after her and all she ever needed was the purity of my undying love. Is that why you need to find her, Beryl asked, to put things right, and I looked at Beryl and I saw the flames and the fire and I thought yes, that’s why, that must be why, but there was something tearing at me and then I was saying no, that’s not it, she’s in danger, she’s in real danger and I have to help her before it’s too late! Why danger, Beryl was asking, insistent, why’s she in danger, danger from whom, how do you know, but it was too many questions that I just couldn’t cope with all at once.
We pulled up outside a small, battered house at the end of a cul de sac that had been through the wars. I am not someone who is really into description, but this road looked like it hadn’t been travelled down for half a century. There was grass growing through the tarmac, the few houses that were there were boarded up or burnt out. I was shocked that anywhere like this could actually exist, still, and why no one had come and redeveloped it; Beryl was thinking the same, it was clear, as she looked at me suspiciously.
Are you sure this is the place, (and I shrugged).
Well, it’s the address she gave me.
I thought you guys were very close, but you don’t know she lives in a tenement?
We were, but we lost touch… I know she went through some hard times but Jesus, this is… (and then I stopped because I didn’t know what else to say).
Beryl shrugged and stepped out of her car. I say car, it was more like a truck, with wheels taller than most people and doors that were electrically operated just in case, like me, you didn’t have the strength to move them by yourself. It was big, black and boxy with blacked out windows and lights, and a sense of menace that stood in your way if you so much as dared to look at it. It had two steps to allow you to climb in and climb out without breaking your legs, and for that I was grateful as I followed Beryl to the front door of what appeared to be Anne’s house. 34 Ashlawn Gardens, the only house on the street to have any indication of being lived in, with curtains blocking the view through the grimy windows (which at least weren’t broken), and a path cleared to the front door, such as it was. It had been ripped off its hinges and hung dying, just waiting for a final rip to put it out of its misery and allow unfettered access to the dark corridor beyond. Beryl and I glanced at each other and there was unease in her look as much as mine. We didn’t have to go very far into the house to see that there was a very serious problem – that was made fairly obvious by the body lying in the hallway. Beryl knelt down by it and did a couple of things, then she got back up and looked at me, questioningly. It was Anna, of course it was, and she was very, very dead.
Fuck, said Beryl, sorry, and I realised eventually that she was talking to me. I stared at Anna, at her white face and cold eyes and I wondered exactly who she was, why she was lying here and what I was going to do now. Beryl held my shoulder softly. Are you ok, she asked, gently, and I smiled back at her. I mean, after all, I didn’t really know Anna very well, just a childhood crush, and I wasn’t going to waste tears on her except of course, for wondering why she was dead and what we were doing here. Beryl, somehow, seemed to think that Anna meant more to me than this, and she even seemed hurt when I pushed her away. It’s only shock, she said quietly, I’m so sorry, Sylvain.
Do you know who did this, I asked Beryl. Why would anyone kill Anna? and Beryl looked at me strangely yet again and led me into the living room of that run-down house, and made me sit on one of the, frankly disgusting, green sofas.
Take a deep breath, Sylvain, just hold it for a minute. We need to think. Why did you tell me Anna was in great danger? (And I stared at her and then I realised it was probably true, it was definitely true, and it all came flooding back to me).
It was Mark (I whispered), he threatened her.
(Beryl nodded slowly) Yes, I thought so, but why?
But Mark had never told me why, and he had never explained why Anna, why someone I hardly knew instead of someone like…
Of course, she said, it was to stop me from investigating him, wasn’t it? She put her head in her hands, how stupid of me. But then why kill her in any case, why not…? She jumped up. Shit! We need to get out of here! she shouted, which I wished she wouldn’t do, because she had a really loud voice and I had a serious headache, and there was something else, really important, that I just couldn’t remember.
Come on, Sylvain, get up, we need to move! She was dragging me, forcing me to my feet, but I just needed a couple more minutes to sit down and take it all in, which she just needed to understand but we were on our feet, stepping over Anna’s body and towards the front door, and Beryl was cursing me, come on Sylvain, but it felt like my feet were lead, she was dragging me inch by inch and it was just too much and then there was someone else there and Beryl was shouting and this other person, no, two people, were shouting back and that’s when it got really confusing
>
It felt like I had just left. The room was cold and dank, painted in a dirty yellow, with a single lamp dimly lighting a broken wooden table and the uncomfortable chairs either side, only this time there were two of us on my side, if you include Beryl which of course you should. My favourite policemen, Dredd and Maker, were sitting opposite me, all cool in their fancy suits and their sunglasses and wearing self-satisfied expressions as if I was the one who had done something wrong. This time Dredd had a notebook in front of him, and was sketching a man being hanged at the gallows; he kept glancing at me, and then back down at the sketch, something which I didn’t take as a good sign. Maker gave me a big smile.
Maker: Well, it’s good to see you again, Sylvain.
Me: It is?
Maker: Yes, of course, we always like seeing old friends, don’t we, Justin?
Dredd (without looking up): Warms our hearts.
Beryl: Look… what’s this about?
Maker: Oooh… she speaks!
Beryl: Cut out the sarcasm, please, officer, and tell me why you have dragged us in to custody.
Maker: Well let’s see…. That may have something to do with the dead body we found at your house.
Beryl: It wasn’t our house.
Dredd: Hmmm…
An Innocent Man Page 31
