Now sitting in the rear of the vehicle, Flic was being prepared to dash with the police, paramedics, and Anna to an ambulance. The bandage wrapped around her head felt too tight, her eyes struggled to focus, and noises seemed muffled. In a sudden movement, she was hauled from the vehicle and rushed the ten steps to the waiting rear of the ambulance.
For the second time in three days, Flic found herself en route to hospital, only this time in a crowded ambulance with the stakes substantially higher.
While the paramedics took her vitals, the word assassination echoed in her ears, and again, for the second time this week, she vomited, only this time no one had noticed she was about to.
Chapter Fifteen
During the early hours of the following morning, Anna tucked Flic into bed, placed a large glass of water on the bedside table, and promised to check on her frequently. Under advice from French police, they had retreated to a secluded chateau where a doctor administered a sedative and Flic was finally able to relax.
“My head’s all over the place,” Flic said.
“That’s only natural, but the sedative will help.”
Dee had left England as soon as she received word of the attempted murder. Anna eyed the pill bottle and wished she could take one of the magic sedatives and curl up for the next day or so, but she had work to do. She wasn’t sure when, but she’d deal with what she’d witnessed later.
Flic’s eyes looked heavy. “Make sure you get some rest, too.”
“Never mind me.” Anna winked. “Dee turns into a banshee without enough sleep.”
Flic smiled faintly. “Where’s your room?”
Anna’s priority had been Flic and coordinating Dee’s arrival. She’d not given her own sleeping arrangements a single thought. “I’ll find a room close by. Don’t worry.”
Flic began to cry. “I know this is too much to ask, but can you come back here?”
Anna hesitated.
“Please? Don’t make me beg you. I don’t want to be alone. My head won’t stop thinking, and if I wake I won’t know where you are, where anyone is.”
“Of course.” Anna couldn’t say no. The desperation in Flic’s voice frightened her. “Now try and get some sleep.”
“Wait with me until I drop off?”
Anna glanced around the room. From the tote bag she knew Flic carried all her personal belongings in, like her laptop and journal, she took the latest novel Flic was reading, opened it at the marked page, and began reading.
Barely a minute passed before Flic twitched a little and her breathing became heavy and sleep finally took hold.
Anna was shattered, but returned to the living room. For the first time in their ten-year history of working together, Dee Macintosh pulled Anna into a tight hug and allowed her to cry on her shoulder. Witnessing the failed assassination of anyone, let alone someone you know and especially when you were also in the firing line, was enough to break anyone. It broke Anna.
“I’m here, honey. I’m so sorry you had to go through that yesterday.” Dee spoke gently in Anna’s ear.
After many minutes, Anna gathered herself and poured them both a brandy. “This certainly makes the fracas in Dublin look like a tea party.”
“She’ll be all right, you know.”
“Will she?” Dee hadn’t been there when the shots were fired, when Flic’s blood had covered her. She’d barely seen Flic before the doctor whisked her away to look her over and give her the pills. Anna briefly wondered who’d be looking out for Flic’s best interests. She knew who’d be looking out for Griffin’s and the book, but would all this only serve to demonstrate to Flic that her life wasn’t her own anymore? The life someone had just attempted so efficiently to take from her. Anna felt a weighty responsibility fall upon her. “Dublin turned her into a nervous wreck. What will this do to her?”
“We’ll get her some help if she needs it. She’ll get through it. I promise. We all will.”
Anna wasn’t so sure. “She needs to be given the choice to go on or not.”
Dee eyed her warily. “I’m sure she’ll say if she can’t go on.”
“That’s not fair, Dee.”
“If she pulled out now, that would serve you well, Anna. Be careful what you’re saying.”
“And that’s not fair either.” It was just as much of a shock to her as anyone else to be thinking about Flic’s well-being and not about saving her church. “Dee, someone tried to kill her today. She feels alone and frightened. She’s like a child. This is cruel and it’s hurting her.” Anna paced the room. “She fell asleep crying just now.” Her voice began to fail her. “All she wanted was not to wake up alone.”
Dee nodded and sighed. “You’ll stay with her tonight, then?”
The thought of sharing a bed with Flic both frightened and comforted Anna. In truth, she didn’t want to be alone either, but the idea of sharing a bed with Flic, even under these extreme circumstances, was messing with her head. But then, someone hadn’t tried to kill her today. It was Flic the bullet was aimed at. She needed to put Flic’s needs above her own. “Yes, of course.”
“She’s grown to rely on you a lot, hasn’t she?”
“Her life has changed so much since writing this book. I think today was the first time she really enjoyed the attention and what does she get for it? An attempted murder.”
“I think she should go on, Anna. And before you growl at me, it’s not for Griffin’s or for the money, but for her own good. This is no longer about the pope. It’s about love and equality and acceptance. If she fades into the distance now, her message will fade and the cause will be set back years. She needs to go on.”
Before the conversation could continue, Max and a police officer arrived. The police had agreed to conduct a regular drive-by, and thus far, no one had claimed responsibility for the assassination attempt. The four of them had things to discuss, and with practiced style, Dee transitioned from friend to unrelenting leader. She set her brandy glass aside and calmly said, “Right. Let’s work out how to move forward.”
*
Flic roused and heard voices so she knew Anna wouldn’t be there. She rolled over and checked the bed just to make sure. She was alone.
Her head ached, but without the painkillers the doctors had given her, she imagined the dull throb would be an unbearable cracking pain. Her wound was sutured and now sported a six-centimeter-long bald patch where a sliver of hair had been shaved to facilitate the procedure.
Since the world was under increasing attack from terrorists or those with a catastrophic agenda, to question if someone would “claim responsibility” for breaking the law was less absurd than it sounded. She had wondered if some religious, homophobic freak with a bee in his bonnet would bother to claim responsibility for fucking up her murder. She’d refused to contemplate the alternative—that an organized group had somehow paid for a professional job, but even then she didn’t understand why they’d admit failure. Perhaps they wouldn’t. Perhaps they’d keep going until the job was completed. Her entire body covered with goose bumps before she had a chance to push the thought from her mind.
In any event, she had welcomed the tiny little pill that ensured a sound sleep, not that it had lasted nearly long enough, but she felt drowsy enough to slip back into slumber. She had to believe Anna wouldn’t disappoint her, and she allowed her eyes to close again in the hope Anna wouldn’t be too far away.
*
Anna looked at her watch. It was close to three in the morning before the police officer left and she, Dee, and Max could finally go to bed. Dee held her back after they bid good night to each other. “Just be there for her. She needs you now,” she said.
Anna quietly entered the bedroom, and Flic was thankfully still sleeping. She looked so peaceful, it hurt to know she’d be waking up to a horrible day. They’d discussed the best way to handle Flic, but Anna knew what she should do and that was to focus on the positive; they were all okay, just a few scrapes and stitches. Obviously, that didn’t
detract from the fact that someone had attempted to kill her, but every time Flic would be frightened by that thought, Anna would remind her that she was relatively unharmed. She hoped her reassurance would be enough.
Previously, when Flic had asked her to stay, it had felt odd knowing she would undress and sleep next to another woman, but now that it was actually happening, she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. There was no way Anna could sleep away knowing Flic could wake frightened and alone. She quickly changed into her pajamas and slipped beneath the covers. She’d also contemplated just sleeping under a blanket on top of the bed, but that now seemed a redundant thought. There was nothing sexual about the situation. It didn’t require dilution.
As she settled into a comfortable position, both she and Flic facing the same direction, she felt a hand reach back in search of her. Without hesitation, Anna took the hand and gently squeezed. Flic’s fingers slowly slipped through hers, and as the hand withdrew, Anna watched Flic curl into a tight ball. They both slept.
*
Although the heavy curtains gave the impression it was still nighttime, the thin crack of light where they met told a different story. Feeling drowsy from the sedative but no longer drowsy enough to doze, Flic reluctantly edged her eyes open. Gaining consciousness by the second, she took stock of where she lay. She was on her side and could feel comforting warmth against her back. Becoming increasingly aware, she realized Anna’s arm was draped over her and tucked firmly on her shoulder. The embrace was strong and not half-hearted as one might expect when holding, in bed, someone you’d barely touched. Flic reminded herself that Anna had been there too. This was not an ordinary situation. On a normal day, Flic would have loved to have woken in this position. The rhythmic, soft breath blowing on her neck was soothing. It was impossible to know if Anna was there out of a sense of duty or friendship. Flic decided she didn’t care.
Then the flashbacks came. Thick and fast.
Tears fell onto the pillow. Did she really have to face the day and face reality? She wanted to pretend for as long as she could that Anna was holding her under different circumstances and that this scene would be replicated tomorrow and every other day after that, but most of all, she wanted to pretend that no one had tried to murder her yesterday.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” Anna sounded sleepy.
Flic tensed. “How did you know it wasn’t?”
“I don’t know. I just knew you were sad.”
It surprised Flic that Anna didn’t attempt to break their connection. “Are you okay? You know, after yesterday.”
Anna squeezed. “Besides thinking you had been shot, yes, I think I’m doing okay.”
“Who tried to kill me, Anna?” As the words spilled from her mouth, fear constricted her chest and the tears progressed to sobs.
“Come here.” Anna turned Flic to face her, pulling her tight. “I don’t know. Hopefully, the police will have some answers today.”
“Thanks for…” The words were there, but saying them out loud would break the illusion that Anna was in bed with Flic because she wanted to be, not because she felt sorry for her.
“You don’t have to thank me. Someone attempting to shoot you has had a profound effect on all of us.”
“But this, this isn’t you, is it?”
“I disagree. Being here for someone I care about is very much me.”
“But me?”
“You challenge nearly all of my beliefs. I can’t deny that, but the one thing that has become glaringly obvious to me in the last twenty-four hours, is that you and I are friends. I care for you. I care very much for you as it turns out.”
“But I told you I like you. Hasn’t that ruined everything?”
“I don’t think so. I think we’ve set clear boundaries.”
“I’m sorry I like you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You know what I mean. It complicates things.”
Anna shrugged. “It only complicates them if we allow that to happen. I think we can keep on top of it.”
Flic left it at that. She’d given Anna ample opportunity to escape, but to her relief, she’d stayed. What she really needed now was coffee.
Anna extracted herself from the embrace. “How about I see if I can source a coffee?”
“Are you a mind reader?”
“Funny. But don’t sound so surprised. I just happen to know you.”
Chapter Sixteen
It wasn’t a shock to see everyone dressed so normally, except for Dee. Flic never contemplated the day she would see Dee Macintosh in anything other than designer suits and dresses. In the space of a day, everything had changed.
Dee advanced toward her with outstretched arms. “Oh, Flic, how are you today, my love?”
She allowed the hug from Dee to last an appropriate time before she squared her shoulders and asked, “Do we have some answers on yesterday?”
Dee nodded. “Not exactly, but let me introduce you.”
The man standing to the rear of the room was a French police officer. She didn’t catch his name, but she thought it sounded roughly like the designer Pierre Cardin. The person who sparked her interest the most was Agent Bethan Stark from MI5.
“MI5?” Flic couldn’t help but sound surprised. “Someone taking a pop at me is hardly a matter of national security.”
Agent Stark smiled, barely committing an emotion either way. “We hope not, but your book has stirred a rather large pot. We’re currently monitoring the toes upon which you might have trodden.”
Flic raised her eyebrows. Were Agent Stark’s qualifications in international relations or Shakespeare?
“We need to show you something,” said Dee. She ushered Flic to a laptop set up in the adjacent room. “Your sales figures, last updated at midnight GMT.”
The figures were nearly double the previous figures Flic had seen two days ago.
Dee pointed to another. “Hits on your website.” The figure was in the millions.
“And the social media supplier has had to suspend your account due to the sheer volume of interest generated globally. Their server can’t keep up. In its absence, the public have created their own pages. Some are following you, hating you, loving you, inciting violence, the list is endless. Others are attacking the church, some are defending it, some are homophobic, and some are pro choice. The dominant positive theme that is associated with you all over the world, however, is ‘Love is love.’”
Flic wondered if she had begun something she had no idea how to end, or more unnerving, had she started something she had little control over. “I presume the authorities are shutting down the dangerous sites? I mean, surely recruiting extremists to bomb the Vatican or kidnap the pope is inciting violence?”
“Yes,” said Anna. “But they’re understandably struggling to keep up with them all. As soon as one’s shut down, another dozen pop up in its place.”
“Fucking hell. What have we done?” Flic couldn’t stomach the screens and what they stood for. She turned away. “I can’t hide forever though, can I?”
She caught Dee and Anna exchange glances. “What?”
“We weren’t sure if you’d want to go on,” said Dee.
Neither was Flic. “It’s not so much that I want to go on, it’s more that I can’t accept quitting.” She searched Anna’s face for answers. “Is continuing the right thing to do?”
Dee went to speak, obviously worried about what Anna might say, but Anna jumped in first. “As long as we can get your protection sorted out so you remain as safe as possible, yes, I think you should finish what you’ve begun.”
Dee breathed an audible sigh of relief.
Pierre Cardin cleared his throat. “The trajectories of the bullets indicate the shooter was not at ground level. In fact they were at least eight floors above the street.”
“Out a window?” asked Anna.
“We think not because the second bullet, fired through the rear window of your vehicle, matches that of the first and was therefor
e fired from the same gun. You were traveling down a different street when the second bullet hit. This leads us to believe that the shooter was on a roof. We’ve narrowed down that location.”
“Please tell me the building has some sort of functioning CCTV?” asked Dee.
Everything hinged on this, and Flic was all ears.
“Yes.”
Thank God.
“And no.”
“What? What do you mean yes and no?”
“We think we have footage of a possible male suspect, but the CCTV on one of the side fire exits is broken. The shooter could have escaped through that exit, but in the interim, of course we are looking closely at the suspect we have vision of. So far, the timings all add up. We think it’s our man.”
“The building, is it a hotel?” asked Anna.
“Yes, madam, and while their security is obviously questionable, their CCTV system is adequate. A hotel is a preferred option for a shooter. Seeing a member of the public in hallways and elevators is normal practice, so you can remain undetected for longer. The downside for the shooter is that hotels have many more cameras than say, an office block, for example. A stranger is more likely to stand out negotiating different floors in an office building.”
“So the obvious question is why? Why try to kill me?” Simply saying the words aloud gave Flic a chilling shudder.
“That we don’t know. Of course there are obvious reasons, but until we can get our hands on the suspect to find out which grudge he’s holding against you, we’re flying blind.”
“So you’re saying you don’t know if it’s the homophobic grudge against gays, the pro-Catholic grudge against my book, the pro-Catholic homophobic grudge against me because they believe I’ve in some way ousted the pope, or perhaps someone just hates my writing.”
“Your writing’s not that bad.” Anna grinned.
“I don’t suppose anyone mentioned on social media that I’d be better off dead?”
The Fifth Gospel Page 13
