‘I’m Alex,’ the girl said. And then everything went black.
Chapter 48
Thursday 17 March
09:28
T – 2 mins
Grit. In her mouth. Pressure against her teeth. Gums. A finger. Her head was being held. Nasreen coughed. Tried to move. Someone had hold of her chin. She tried to push them away. Kick. Her ankles and wrists strained against tape. She was strapped to a chair. Someone was crying. Muffled sobs. Lottie? The room came back into focus. The damp walls, dark green mould spreading like oil on water. She was groggy. She bit at the fingers that were pushed inside her mouth.
‘Whoa there!’ The woman who’d stabbed her pulled away.
Nasreen spat. ‘What are you doing?’ Her voice was slurred. The woman appeared in front of her, squatting down and resting her elbows on her knees. She was blonde. Pretty. Athletic. The room wobbled. ‘What did you give me?’ The grains were sweet in her mouth.
‘Jeez, it’s just a bit of sugar.’ She turned as if she were talking to Lottie. ‘Some women are just nuts about avoiding sugar, aren’t they, Lottie? Cray cray!’
Nasreen blinked, tried to focus. Sugar? Lottie still had silver gaffer tape stretched tight over her mouth, tears falling down her face. Was this another Lorna? Another girl obsessed with Black? ‘Who are you?’
The woman laughed. Her mouth a sneer of perfectly straight, white teeth. Like fresh marble gravestones. ‘For “the Met’s rising star” you’re a bit slow, aren’t you?’ she said. What was going on? Nasreen shook her head, trying to clear it. The woman leant towards her, her eyes sparkling shards of glass. ‘I’m Alexandra Black, but most people call me Alex. Or Apollyon’s Revenge.’
Nasreen felt the fine hairs on her arms and neck stand up. But what about Liam? The men on Are You Awake? All those girls? ‘You’re a woman?’ Her words were thick, clunky. She tried to grasp what was happening.
‘Gold star for observation,’ Alex said drily.
‘But how?’ Her mind was swimming. ‘Apollyon’s Revenge, the warriors, Lorna – they all think you’re a man.’ They’d thought she was a man.
‘I don’t do meet and greets, Sergeant Cudmore. I prefer to keep my communication online. If people assume they know anything about me, they’re fools.’
No wonder Mrs Wilshire couldn’t remember a boy called Alex Black. ‘Is Alex your real name?’ Nasreen managed.
The woman smiled. ‘Of course. I don’t need a fake name: no one can find me anyway.’
‘I found you,’ Nasreen said. The broken door had been pulled to, trapping them inside.
‘And how’s that working out for you?’ Alex pointed to the tape that bound her wrists. This was a trap, and she’d walked straight into it. Nasreen could see that Lottie’s eyes were ringed in red. Her nose snotty, blocked. She must have been like this for hours. She was struggling against the tape to get enough air to breathe. ‘It’s okay, Lottie. I know your brother. It’s going to be okay.’ Her tongue felt sickly sweet. Her head felt like she’d been hit. ‘What did you give me?’
‘Insulin,’ Alex said. ‘Induces hypoglycaemia in those who aren’t diabetic. Plus you can inject it subcutaneously – so much easier than trying to find a vein.’ She walked slowly towards Lottie. Lottie’s breathing became more frantic. She was trying to shout against the tape. ‘Worked a treat on this pretty little one as well.’ She stroked her hand down Lottie’s cheek. The girl strained to get away.
‘Stay calm, Lottie. Look at me.’ Nas tried to push the chair back so she could see her better. Make eye contact. Lottie’s eyes were frantic, flicking from Alex, who was slowly and deliberately stroking her face, to Nasreen and back again. What did she know about insulin? Hypoglycaemia? ‘How could you be sure I wasn’t diabetic?’ Nasreen asked. She had to get her away from Lottie.
Alex jerked towards her; Nasreen turned her face away and braced for the hit. But the woman laughed and grabbed the chair leg instead, scraping it along the floor, almost tipping it over, yanking it so Nasreen was turned to face Lottie. ‘Better?’ Alex’s breath tickled her cheeks; she smelled of Marmite. ‘Front row seats for the show!’ She walked away to the far corner, her neon pink trainers sure-footed.
That’s how she did it? She looks like a runner. Nasreen could picture her jogging alongside Lottie and then swiping at her with the needle. One quick plunge and the girl would’ve been incapacitated.
‘A child could hack into the NHS system.’ Alex picked up a dark rucksack, which was resting on an old table. ‘I’ve seen your medical records. I know all kinds of things about you, Nasreen.’
‘I’m flattered,’ Nasreen said. Alex placed a video camera on the side. Whatever she had planned, she was going to record it. ‘Why are you so interested in me?’ She needed to keep her talking. Alex had her back to them. If she could get closer to Lottie she might be able to loosen her tape. Nasreen tried rocking the chair from side to side, pulling with all her weight against the restraints. One chair leg went forwards, then the other.
Alex turned to watch her. ‘Pathetic,’ she scoffed. She crossed her arms and leant against the window ledge, raising an eyebrow at Nasreen as if she were an amusing puppy. ‘You’re the great Sergeant Cudmore who took down the Twitter serial killer?’
‘You admire him: Apollyon? Is that what this is about?’ Notoriety. The media hype had made him famous, like American killers who gunned down innocent school children and had their names and faces splashed all over the news: other people wanted that infamy. It bred shootings.
‘He wasn’t really up to the job, was he?’ Alex said. ‘You managed to arrest him.’ She made it sound like an insult.
Nasreen rubbed her tongue along her teeth. Had she spat all the sugar out? Was there some left? ‘Why call yourself Apollyon’s Revenge then?’ It would take Freddie ten minutes to get back to the road, to flag the local force down. Ten minutes for the team to reach them. How long had she been out for? She couldn’t see her watch. She’d have to keep her talking.
‘Apollyon made a convenient bait,’ Alex was saying. ‘All those man-babies lap that crap up.’ She looked smug.
Nothing was as they’d thought it had been.
‘What about the men’s rights guys – you tried to help them?’ Nasreen’s voice sounded normal, but her heart was beating double time.
Alex’s laugh was joyous. ‘Those MRA whingers? They only thought I was helping them.’ She was delighted with herself. ‘Crying because life didn’t give them their own supermodel to shag? Pitiful. I enjoyed using those losers. It was a gratifying bonus. If they’d known they were talking to me, to this …’ Alex ran her hands over her breasts and her taut waist. ‘It would have blown their minds. Instead I used their dirty little desires for my own ends.’
‘Why use them to go after other women?’ Nasreen was trying to piece it all together. There was something she was missing. In the broken sunlight that filtered through the grimy window, she could see three syringes lined up on the shelf behind her. Heroin. And lying next to them: a long sharp knife.
‘I wanted the MRAs for their numbers,’ Alex smiled.
‘I don’t understand.’ There was an empty water bottle at Lottie’s feet, but no signs of food. Her trainers and leggings were caked in mud on one side, as if she’d been dragged into here. Despite the odd brown splash, Alex was unmarked. She should have noticed that. She should have known.
Alex sighed, growing bored of the questions. ‘I work for money, the same as anyone else.’
Extortion. Of course: that made sense. ‘You blackmail the girls to take the images down?’ Nasreen began to work at the edge of the tape round her right wrist, making tiny tears with her fingernail.
‘That would be illegal, Sergeant Cudmore,’ Alex laughed. ‘I make my money from advertising. Are You Awake gets 2.2 million unique visitors per month, and 200 million page loads per month. That’s a lot of traffic to pimp to. It’s a bulletin board. I’m not responsible for what people put on it.’
�
�All this is about money?’
Alex’s face clouded. ‘Money is easy. I wanted more of a … statement.’ She straightened the needles. ‘One for Lottie Londoner; one for our friendly policewoman,’ she sang softly.
‘You don’t have to do this, Alex. You’ve got what you want: money, fame. Everyone’s talking about you.’ She saw the girl smile. ‘Let Lottie go – you don’t need her now. She’s done nothing wrong.’ Nasreen kept one eye on the door. Help would arrive soon.
‘Oh no, girls like Lottie never do anything wrong, do they?’ Alex sprang towards her. Away from the syringes.
‘She’s not Daisy,’ Nasreen said. Keep her talking.
‘Don’t you use her name!’ Alex ran at her, hitting her hard with the back of her hand. Nasreen felt her lip split; blood pooled into her mouth. She spat. Speckled phlegm hit the ground, merging into the dark mess of the floor. ‘Tell me what Daisy was like. You were at Romeland together?’
‘Very clever, Nasreen. Brains and beauty. Aren’t you blessed? You’re all so fucking blessed!’ she screamed. Lottie flinched and starting snivelling again.
‘Did Daisy hurt you, Alex? Is that what this is about?’
Alex lunged and grabbed hold of her jaw, her cold fingers digging into her skin. Nasreen struggled, but Alex was strong. She brought her face level with hers. ‘You’re very pretty, Sergeant Nasreen Cudmore.’ Her voice was almost a whisper. Nasreen tried to move, but Alex Black held her still as she ran her tongue up her cheek. Tasting her. Bile rushed up her throat and instinctively Nasreen tried to wipe her face, but the tape pulled tight against her skin. Alex laughed. Stay calm. Don’t show you’re frightened. She was millimetres from her.
‘That’s what all the papers said at the time, wasn’t it, Sergeant Cudmore?’ Alex purred. ‘When you arrested Apollyon? How brave. How pretty. How smart you are.’
Nasreen flexed her fingers. Her hands were losing circulation. Her toes felt cold in her boots. She fought to control the tremor in her voice. ‘Why did you target Chloe Strofton?’
‘When I saw that idiot Liam mention her name on Are You Awake it was a gift. It was just what I’d been waiting for.’ Alex’s grip tightened. ‘You pretty girls don’t know how hard life is for us. You get everything. Attention, adoration, money: it’s all handed to you on a plate. You’re nothing if you’re an ugly woman.’ Nasreen forced herself to look at Alex’s attractive face. This made no sense. The woman smiled. ‘I didn’t always look like this: the Are You Awake cash has paid for a lot of cosmetic surgery. Fixing my flaws. Making me fit. Making me visible. I used to be fat. NHS glasses. Bad skin. Bad bones. Ugly.’ Her grip tightened and Nasreen’s jaw creaked under the pressure. ‘I got the highest grades in my year at school, and guess whose photo they put in the local paper? Three blonde bimbos jumping!’ Spittle peppered Nasreen’s skin. She flinched and blinked. Tried to pull away. But Alex wasn’t done. ‘I was in line to get a scholarship for uni, until some lithe little waif caught the professor’s eye. I was passed over for jobs, promotions, everything I ever wanted, because being clever isn’t enough. Being the best person for the job isn’t enough. Girls like Chloe and Lottie and you come along and steal it.’
She was squeezing her face so hard, her lips were squashed together. Nasreen forced the words out. ‘It’s what’s on the inside that counts.’ And what’s inside you is rotten.
‘Bullshit!’ Alex shouted. She smelt of cigarettes too. And behind that was something stale. Something dead. ‘If you’re hot you get away with anything. You know that, Nasreen,’ Alex’s voice fell calm again. Low and threatening. For a second Nasreen thought of Saunders – what she’d give to see him right now. ‘I saw your photo in the news, Nasreen: they called you a hero when you arrested the Hashtag Murderer. And I saw straight through it.’ Alex smiled, though it was devoid of warmth. She was enjoying this. ‘It didn’t take long to find evidence.’
Nasreen swallowed. What was she talking about?
‘Nasreen Cudmore is an unusual name. You have a fan site, do you know that?’
‘What?’ Nasreen tried to move her face. Her own sweaty hand was still working at the edge of the tape round her wrist.
‘They think you’re hot,’ Alex smirked. ‘They share photos of you.’
What photos?
‘But they don’t know what you’re really like, do they Nasreen? Tell Lottie what you did to Gemma Strofton.’ She forced her head round so Nasreen was staring at Lottie: the girl’s eyes were wide and anxious.
Nasreen’s heart was thumping. She felt sick. She thought of Jack: what would he think of her? ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t lie!’ Alex shouted. ‘I read the newspaper reports. I spoke to the editor on the local paper. You bullied Gemma Strofton. You hounded her until she tried to kill herself.’
Alarm flooded Nasreen. ‘It wasn’t like that. I made a mistake.’ She tried to pull her face away. She couldn’t meet Lottie’s eyes.
‘You thought you got away with it, but I’ll make you pay. A life for a life. And I wanted to select someone close to your team to make sure the message got through: Lottie Londoner with her bragging Instagram seemed perfect.’ Alex’s nose was almost touching hers. She’s unhinged. ‘Did you work that out, clever Nasreen? That this was my masterpiece?’
Gemma’s face, her parents, poor Chloe curled up dead on the forest floor; it all rushed through Nasreen’s mind.
Alex kept going: ‘Gemma may have survived what you did, but Chloe died because of you. You are responsible for all of this.’
No. Alex looked eerily calm. Nasreen’s breath was coming too fast. She could feel hysteria banging on the door. She had to get control of the situation. ‘You bullied Chloe, Alex. You published naked photos of her. You bought her heroin. You killed her.’ Lottie made a noise, she was looking at the syringes, struggling.
Alex just smiled. ‘You don’t win this time, Nasreen.’ She let go.
Nasreen’s skin was clammy where she’d touched her. The line of saliva tightened as it dried on her face. Alex headed for the needles. Lottie was jerking against her binds, desperate to free herself. ‘You bullied Daisy too,’ Nasreen called. Alex froze. Keep her talking. Distract her. Her mind was racing, piecing together everything she now knew. Alex was angry: vengeful against girls she thought were pretty. Women she thought had cheated her. But why? How had she become so full of hate? It was something to do with Daisy. ‘Daisy didn’t deserve what you did to her.’
Alex whirled to stare at her. Despite herself, Nasreen recoiled as much as the chair let her. Alex’s eyes were slivers of hate. ‘Daisy was my friend,’ she said.
‘Then why humiliate her?’ She had to keep her away from the needles.
‘She humiliated me,’ Alex shouted. She ran her hands through her hair, agitated.
‘Everyone says she’s a nice girl.’ Blood was rushing in Nasreen’s ears. She kept working at the tape round her wrist. Keeping her eyes fixed on Alex at all times. Lottie was sobbing, bubbles of snot blowing from her nose. If she could just keep her calm a little longer.
‘Daisy was like pretty, famous Lottie here,’ Alex snarled. ‘Spoilt. Beautiful. Used to getting everything she wanted. She was supposed to be my friend. But the other girls – the popular ones – they hated me being near her. As if my ugliness might contaminate them.’ Her voice was rising. Her cheeks were flushed. She was animated in a way Nasreen hadn’t seen so far. ‘They treated me like an animal. A freak!’
‘What happened?’ Nasreen pushed. Something had caused Alex to change; to change herself, what she looked like. Something that had turned her into this monster. ‘What did they do?’
‘They held me down.’ Alex’s voice became tiny. Nasreen could hear Lottie’s strangled breaths. ‘They pulled my pants down – took photos of me.’ She crumpled in on herself, her hands instinctively covering her breasts, her groin. ‘I was fifteen. Fifteen!’ Her voice became an angry sob. ‘I’d never even kissed a boy. I didn’t like un
dressing in front of other people. They thought it was funny.’
Fifteen. The same age as Chloe. Nasreen could imagine the young girl: stripped, humiliated. How could they do that? ‘Was it here, Alex?’ she said softly.
Alex seemed to remember where she was, looking around the cold dark room. She nodded morosely. Her voice barely above a whisper. ‘A school trip. They’d been drinking cider. One of them smuggled it in. Telling stories about their boyfriends.’ She looked like she might be sick. ‘Daisy promised she would throw the photos away. But she didn’t. She printed them.’ She closed her eyes as if she were reliving every painful second. ‘They handed them round at school. Put them in my locker. Everyone saw.’
‘What about the teachers?’ Nasreen said. ‘They must have helped you?’
Alex gave a mirthless laugh. ‘The teachers said they’d expel the girls. But then Daisy’s father gave the school a large donation for a new library. Did you see it? An extension on the back: double-height ceiling. They weren’t even suspended. I had to see them every day. Every day. I dropped out after that. Like all pretty girls, they got away with it. The teachers did nothing. Because I was nobody: because I wasn’t beautiful, I didn’t matter!’
Cynthia Warner’s daughter, the second victim of Alex’s campaign, was a teacher. Nasreen exhaled. ‘That shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry, Alex.’
She watched the woman harden in front of her eyes, all traces of the traumatised child gone. ‘No. You’re as bad as they are.’
Alex had chosen to hack and share intimate images of other girls. Popular, attractive girls who resembled Daisy: she was repeatedly getting her back. Embarrassing Daisy hadn’t been enough. Humiliating strangers hadn’t been enough. Like a junkie, Alex needed another hit, she needed more. She wanted them to pay. She needed them to die. ‘You can’t do this,’ Nasreen said.
Watch Me Page 26
