by Alex Lake
‘Is that his name?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And was it true? That you’d arranged for him to go with a family?’
‘God, no. I only heard about this this morning. He’s with May. I was bluffing. To keep him from shooting me.’
There was a loud crashing sound from the hedge. Kate jumped; when she looked over she found it hard to believe what she was seeing.
‘Phil?’ she said. ‘Gus?’
‘Yep,’ Phil said. ‘We’re the backup.’ He looked at Mike’s body, lying on the floor, then at Kate and Beth.
‘We heard the shot. Are you OK?’
Beth nodded. ‘I think some birds were frightened, but that’s about it.’
‘What about him?’ Gus said. He gestured at the prone form. ‘Do we have a problem here?’
‘You mean do we have a dead body to worry about?’ Beth said. She shook her head. ‘No, we don’t. But I wouldn’t be worrying too much if we did. At least, I don’t think so.’
Phil bent down and reached out, ready to take his pulse. Gus put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Don’t touch him,’ he said. ‘You and I were not here.’ He bent over the body. ‘He’s breathing.’
‘How long will he be out for?’ Phil said.
‘Another twenty minutes or so,’ Beth said. ‘Give or take. So we need to move fast.’ She looked at Kate. ‘Does he have a phone?’
Kate nodded. ‘In the motorhome.’
‘You call the police, tell them who and where you are. They’ll be here right away. We’ll tie him up, just in case. The three of us need to get out of here.’
‘You’re going to leave me?’ Kate said. ‘I’m not sure about that.’
Beth held her gaze. Her eyes were dark and calm and Kate felt herself gain strength from her friend.
‘You’ll be fine,’ Beth said. ‘He’ll be tied up and you’ll have the shotgun.’
‘How do I explain’ – Kate gestured around – ‘all this?’
‘Say he brought you back here to kill you. He told you his plan: fast-acting drug to knock you out, then strangle you, take out your eyes, all the things the Strangler does. You managed to get free somehow – show them your teeth, that should convince them – and you grabbed the syringe and made a run for it. He caught you by the gate, you struggled, in the struggle the shotgun went off and you stabbed him with the syringe.’
Beth hugged her.
‘Quick,’ she said. ‘There’s no time to waste.’
The police were there ten minutes later. First, a squad car arrived, containing two excited young PCs, who untied the twine that Kate had put around Mike’s ankles and wrists, and handcuffed him. Then they propped him up in a seated position against the gate and called for an ambulance.
They offered Kate a drink; she took some water, but even tiny sips brought tears to her eyes.
A few minutes later, another squad car showed up. This one contained DI Wynne.
As she closed the car door, Mike’s chin lifted from his chest. He blinked, his eyes unfocused. For a moment there was a confused, bewildered expression on his face, then he became suddenly alert.
He jerked forward, trying to get to his feet. One of the young PCs pressed his shoulders, pushing him back to the ground.
‘What’s going on?’ he said. He stared at Kate. ‘What have you done? Where’s Beth?’
DI Wynne pointed at the squad car. ‘Take him to the station,’ she said. ‘I’ll be right there.’
She walked over to Kate. ‘I’m glad you’re alive,’ she said. ‘I was very worried about you. We’ll need to take a statement. Not now, of course. But once you’ve had a chance to rest.’ She looked at Kate’s swollen, aching cheek. ‘What happened?’
‘It’s part of the story,’ Kate said. Her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.
DI Wynne put her hand on Kate’s arm. ‘Then later,’ she said.
Kate heard the wailing of an ambulance; seconds later she saw its lights turning onto the dirt track that led to the barn.
‘Chester Hospital,’ DI Wynne said ‘That’s where they’ll take you.’
Kate let the paramedics settle her in a wheelchair and push her towards the ambulance. DI Wynne walked alongside her.
‘I’ll call on you tomorrow,’ she said. ‘If that’s OK.’
‘Of course,’ Kate said. ‘Whatever you need to put him away.’
‘Oh,’ DI Wynne said. ‘I think that’s a foregone conclusion. But we’ll talk anyway. Cross the t’s and dot the i’s, so to speak.’
She watched as Kate was lifted into the ambulance.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I do have one question.’
‘Yes?’ Kate said.
‘Who’s Beth?’
Kate shook her head. ‘Beth? Why do you ask?’
‘He wanted to know where she was, when he woke up.’
‘Oh,’ Kate said. ‘I don’t know. But he was pretty crazy at the end. Sounds like something that you can dismiss as the ravings of a madman.’
DI Wynne gave her a wide grin.
‘I see,’ she said. ‘I’ll bear that in mind. Good luck, Miss Armstrong.’
41
She was going to be fine, although she was going to need some serious dental work.
‘I suspect they’ll take out what’s left of those teeth,’ the doctor, a tall man with a goofy smile, said. ‘And then they’ll put some new ones in there.’
‘That’s no bad thing,’ her dad added. ‘Save you having trouble with them later. When I was a kid, I remember people getting a new set of teeth for their twenty-first birthday. Had the real ones pulled out and implants put in. If you didn’t, you were in for bloody murder as you got older. Dental hygiene wasn’t what it is today.’
Kate’s mum rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated shake of the head. Kate knew her dad was only trying to reassure her, but she found it more reassuring that, even now, her parents were still engaged in the good-natured bickering that characterized their relationship. She had wondered as a teenager whether they even liked each other; she realized now that bickering was their way of showing that they still loved each other. It meant they were paying attention, and that they cared. She hoped that she would find a better – or different, at least – way of expressing her love for whoever she ended up with, but if that was what worked for her mum and dad, then who was she to say it was wrong?
‘Anyway,’ the doctor said with a smile, ‘we’ll give you the names of some dentists. You’ll want to get those teeth seen to as soon as you can. Apart from anything else, they’re going to be very painful. We’ll give you painkillers, but there’s no reason to delay.’
‘Can I go home?’ Kate said. ‘Is that it?’
‘Not yet,’ the doctor said. ‘We’ll keep you in for a little while longer. Make sure you get hydrated. And I’d like to see you one more time before you go. Keep an eye on you for any signs of shock. But other than that, there are no problems.’
He left, having asked a nurse to explain to her how to use the intravenous morphine drip that was beside her bed. Her mum and dad sat on either side of her, holding her hands. Her mum fiddled with her phone; her dad smiled. When he’d seen her, he’d hugged her – for the first time she could remember in a long time – and kissed her forehead.
That was when it hit her, when she understood how close she had come. She’d known it, of course, but she hadn’t understood it, hadn’t seen it through other people’s eyes.
It could easily have ended differently, and when she thought that, she felt a sudden shortness of breath and a sense of rising panic.
She was lucky to be alive, and it was going to be a while before she truly came to terms with that.
But that was all for the future. For the moment, all she wanted, as the morphine dulled the pain in her teeth, was some sleep.
When she woke up, Phil was sitting by the bed, reading the news on his phone. She studied his face in the reflected glare, considered what he had done: without him, she’d probabl
y be dead.
And she felt warmth and friendship and gratitude, but she didn’t love him. Not in the way she had done. She’d wondered if she would, but now she saw him, she had her answer.
‘Hi,’ she said. Her voice was barely above a croak and her teeth throbbed.
‘You want a drink?’ he said. ‘Water?’
She nodded, and he passed her a cup. She sipped it, and then pressed the button for more morphine.
‘What time is it?’ she said.
‘Eleven p.m. They let us stay longer, given the circumstances.’
‘Us? Who else is here?’
‘May, Gemma, Beth. They’re wandering around looking for coffee. Apparently, there’s a machine somewhere.’
‘So,’ Kate said. ‘Thanks.’ She realized that she still didn’t know what had happened. ‘You’ll have to tell me your story.’
‘I got a phone call from Gus—’
‘Not now,’ she said. ‘Later.’
He stood up and looked at her. He loved her still, she could see that. It was written in every muscle in his face, in the part-relief, part-hope, part-sadness of his expression.
He started to speak, then stopped himself, then started again. Then he shook his head, and looked away.
‘Go on,’ Kate said. ‘What is it?’
He looked back at her. ‘I love you,’ he said. ‘You know that, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I do.’
‘But you don’t love me.’ It was part-statement, part-question. She didn’t answer.
‘It actually is over, isn’t it?’ he said. This was a question, and so she nodded.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It is. But I love you too, Phil. Not in the way you hoped, but in another way. And I always will.’
There was the sound of footsteps in the corridor.
‘The others are coming,’ he said. ‘I’ll leave you to them.’ He paused. ‘It might not be enough for me,’ he said. ‘To be friends. You understand that, right?’
‘Yes. I understand.’
‘So this might be goodbye. For a while, at least. I’m not trying to be mean. It’s … it’s too much for me to see you.’
‘I understand. And thank you, Phil.’ She smiled at him. ‘Before you go. Is there any chance of a hug?’
He smelled so familiar, so comfortable, so Phil, that for a moment she was tempted to ask him to stay, but, as the door opened, she let go of him and watched him walk from the room.
She wiped a tear from her eye and looked at her friends.
‘Oh my God,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. And I can’t believe that this is what it took to get us all together again.’
42
She ended up leaving the following morning. Beth, May and Gemma had stayed with her for about ten minutes longer before a nurse came and threw them out – in a kind, nursely way – after which Kate went back to sleep. She woke a few times in the night, startled awake by nightmares, and in the morning she was ready to go.
She sat on the couch at her parents’ house and sipped a cup of milk and honey. Anything else sent shockwaves through her teeth; she was booked to see a dentist that afternoon and she couldn’t wait. She was sick of both the pain and the fogginess that the painkillers – some big yellow pills the doctor had prescribed – caused.
The doorbell rang and she heard her mum answer it. A few seconds later the door to the living room opened.
It was Beth. She was holding hands with a little boy.
‘This is Dylan,’ she said. ‘Dylan, this is Auntie Kate.’
‘Hello, Dylan,’ Kate said. ‘I can’t tell you how pleased I am to meet you.’
‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Are you Mummy’s friend?’
Kate glanced at Beth. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I am.’
Kate’s mum came into the room. ‘Would you like a cup of tea, B—’ she caught herself just in time: ‘Andrea?’
‘Yes, please. Maybe Dylan could go with you and get a drink? And a biscuit?’
‘Of course.’ Her mum bent over so her face was level with Dylan’s. ‘Would you like a biscuit? I’ve got some very big chocolate ones. Probably too big.’
He shook his head. ‘Not too big.’
‘Shall we find out?’
They left the room. Beth sat down opposite Kate.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Sore. But OK, considering. I’m seeing the dentist later. He’s a beautiful boy, Beth.’
‘Thanks. I think so too. And he’s the reason I’m here.’
‘Oh?’
‘I knew that Colin – or Mike, if you prefer – was never going to stop. The only way was to face him head on.’
‘Which you did. Pretty spectacularly, I’d say. What was in the syringe?’
‘A fast-acting sedative. They give it to people before colonoscopies. I thought it was appropriate for that arsehole.’
‘You know a lot about that stuff?’
‘Trainee anaesthetist.’
‘I see.’ Kate sipped her drink. ‘So. What next for you?’
‘Back to Wolverhampton,’ Beth said. ‘Back to college. I have some exams coming up.’
‘As Andrea Berry?’
‘Yes. That’s my name now, you know? And Dylan – I don’t want to have to explain it to him. Not yet, anyway.’
‘Are we going to stay in touch?’
‘I think so,’ Beth said. ‘I hope so. We should meet up, from time to time.’
‘From time to time?’ Kate had, she realized, been hoping for more.
‘I have a lot of memories,’ Beth said, ‘that I’ve worked hard to move on from. And being with you – and May, and Gem – brings it back. I love you guys, honestly, I do. But it’s hard. You know. You’ve seen him up close. You know how bad he can be.’
Kate nodded. ‘The motorhome,’ she said. ‘He told me how he used it. Even when I was in agony, I was thinking of you, of what you must have gone through.’
‘Exactly,’ Beth said. ‘And I’ve dealt with a lot of that. At least, I thought I had, until yesterday, when May and Phil showed up. Which was a shock, as you can imagine.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. It forced me to do what I should have done years ago, and deal with that bastard once and for all.’
‘And you did. He’ll never trouble us again. He’s going to be in prison for a long, long time.’
‘For the rest of his life, according to DI Wynne,’ Beth said.
‘You talked to her? How did she know you’re involved?’
‘She’s very resourceful,’ Beth said. ‘And very smart. She told me what he said when she questioned him.’
Kate blinked. ‘Are we in trouble?’
‘Not according to her. She told me she’d deal with it. I tend to believe her. You’ll have to make a statement. You can stick to the story, or we can tell her the truth. Either way, he’s not going to see the outside of a prison as long as he’s drawing breath.’
‘Which will be too soon.’
The door opened and Dylan came in. He had chocolate and a smile all over his face. Kate’s mum followed him, a cup of tea in her hand.
‘Here you go,’ she said.
Beth glanced at Kate. ‘We have to leave,’ she said. ‘But thanks.’
When she had gone, Kate’s mum frowned.
‘Everything OK?’ she said.
Kate nodded.
‘As good as it could be,’ she said. ‘Which is enough for me.’
Later
MASS MURDERER SENTENCED TO LIFE IN PRISON
Judge David Wainwright today sentenced serial killer Colin Davidson to eight life sentences, with a recommendation that he never be released.
Davidson – who used a number of aliases, among them Mark Stevens and Mike Sadler – was found guilty of the murder of eight women during a multi-year killing spree, in Stockton Heath and Sheffield.
Detective Inspector Jane Wynne, leading the investigation, said after the verdict that she was glad to se
e justice being served. She added that there were suspicions that Davidson had killed other women, but the investigation team had been unable to find proof as yet.
‘He is one of this country’s most prolific killers,’ she said. ‘And we live in a safer world now that he is behind bars, and will remain so for the rest of his life.’
Kate had expected to feel some closure when the verdict came; early on she had been involved in the trial as a witness and she had followed it as it progressed.
She didn’t, though. She was glad, and relieved, but she didn’t feel closure.
What she felt was irrational, she knew that, but she couldn’t shake it.
For some reason, she didn’t feel it was over.
One year later
The letter came to her home address. She’d moved back in a month after the dental work to replace her teeth. Over the year, the nightmares had become less frequent and, in the last few weeks, she’d even gone on a date.
It was OK. She liked the guy. They’d met in the pub, one on one. It took some courage.
And Gus and May were in the pub, a few tables away, in the event that she needed them.
She got back from work on a Friday evening, and there it was. White envelope, handwritten address.
Sent to Kate Barnstable, not Kate Armstrong.
Odd. But that wasn’t the only weird thing about it.
The other weird thing was the stamp.
It was second class.
And it had an unusual postmark. She stared at it.
It was a prison postmark.
She picked it up off the mat and opened it. She began to read. As she did, her stomach shrank and she slumped to the floor, her back against the wall.
Kate, forgive me for writing to you but I do not know Beth’s address, so cannot contact her directly, and there is something I need to discuss with her.
I’ll get to the point.
I want to see my son.
Kate stared at the wall. The paper shook in her hands as she carried on reading. He was probably banned from writing to her, so he’d used the false name. Typical Mike. She read on.
I have a RIGHT to see him. Not a LEGAL right, maybe, but a MORAL right. I know you will understand this, Kate. You are a good person. He needs to see his DAD. He deserves to know me. And I will get to know him, one way or another. I will write to him, at home, at school, wherever the letters will reach him, and I will tell him who I am and where he can find me. Have you read Harry Potter? The people who he lives with try to stop the letters telling him he is a wizard from reaching him, but in the end they cannot, and they cannot because it is RIGHT for him to know he is a WIZARD.
