Rush of Blood

by Mark Billingham

  ‘I don’t see why it’s worse,’ Dave said.

  ‘Course it is,’ Angie said. ‘Kids have got their whole lives ahead of them, haven’t they?’

  ‘Yeah, but that’s not always a good thing though, is it?’

  ‘What are you on about?’ Barry said.

  ‘Some people’s lives are shit.’

  ‘Bollocks.’

  ‘It’s a fact.’

  ‘Listen, mate, things haven’t exactly been a barrel of laughs for me lately, but I’m still better off than a lot of people. Better off than those two girls for a start.’

  ‘Really? What kind of life would those two girls have had anyway?’

  ‘That’s not your … decision though, is it?’ Angie said.

  ‘No, it’s not and whatever God you believe in, we all get tested in different ways.’ He glanced at Ed, who stared at the table. ‘I’m just saying that we over-romanticise this whole thing about kids. Like they’re the be-all and end-all.’ Dave reached across and took Marina’s hand. ‘Me and Maz don’t want them anyway, so it’s not an issue … but even if we did, I’m really not convinced this world is a particularly nice place to bring kids into.’

  Dave removed his hand from Marina’s and went back to finishing up his dinner. Nobody spoke for fifteen seconds and then Angie said, ‘Well, if you don’t want to bring children into the world, that’s up to you, but what about the ones who are already here and need good homes?’

  ‘You mean adopt?’ Marina asked.

  ‘I know it’s not easy, but a lot of people go to China now, don’t they?’

  ‘We’re not all cut out to be parents,’ Dave said.

  Marina said nothing.

  ‘You don’t know until you try though, do you?’ Angie said.

  ‘Look, it’s not compulsory.’

  ‘No, but think of all those babies whose parents don’t want them …’

  Marina stood up and began gathering plates. ‘Do people fancy pudding straight away?’ she said. ‘Or shall we leave a gap?’

  Angie turned to Sue. ‘I mean, now I come to mention it, you and Ed could always—’

  Sue pushed back her chair quickly and picked up her plate. She smiled at Marina. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’

  Sue piled plates on the draining board then began rinsing them under the tap, while Marina sliced up a cheesecake in its foil container and poured cream from a carton into a small jug. When she could see that Sue was about to speak, Marina smiled and said, ‘Dave’s not interested in having kids, simple as that.’

  ‘What about you though?’ Sue asked. ‘I mean it’s not just up to him.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter anyway, because I probably couldn’t have them even if I wanted to.’ Marina put the knife down, licked her fingers. ‘So, you know … no need to argue about it.’

  They could hear voices from the next room. Just Angie’s and Barry’s, but it was not possible to make out what was being said.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I had an abortion a long time ago and there were complications … and they told me it might be difficult.’

  ‘Still a chance though.’

  Marina took a bowl of mixed berries from the fridge and removed the cling-film. ‘It’s a horrible world to grow up in. That’s what Dave says. He didn’t have a particularly great childhood himself, so …’

  Sue turned off the tap, bent and began to load the dishwasher, reaching up for dirty plates and cutlery from the worktop. ‘That business about “whatever God you believe in”. Is Dave a bit … religious? I mean sorry, maybe you both are. I didn’t mean …’

  ‘I don’t really know if he is or not,’ Marina said.

  ‘I wasn’t trying to pry.’

  ‘It’s just something we do. When he gets into something he really goes for it, you know? Like cycling or whatever. You know he shaves his legs, right?’

  ‘God, really?’

  Marina leaned towards Sue and whispered, ‘Do you know why I wanted everyone to stay over?’ Sue shook her head. ‘Just to get out of going to sodding church tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘It’s so bloody depressing.’

  ‘I was wondering about that …’

  Marina told Sue to leave the dishes and asked her if she could get some ice cream from the freezer. They listened to Angie laughing at something in the next room.

  ‘What Angie said in there about you and Ed … adopting or whatever.’ Marina gathered up a stack of small dishes. ‘That was out of order.’

  ‘She means well.’

  ‘Didn’t look like Ed was very happy. He went very quiet.’

  ‘We should be grateful for small mercies.’

  ‘Did you see his face though?’

  ‘Ed’s had too much to drink,’ Sue said.

  ‘He’s not the only one. I should probably stick to water from now on.’

  ‘So should he,’ Sue said. ‘But there’s no point me telling him. I never know how he’s going to react when he gets like that.’

  ‘Who needs an old man that’s predictable?’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Marina said. ‘Nothing like a fry-up for sorting all the hangovers out. Help me carry this lot in …’

  ‘Does he know?’ Sue lowered her voice. ‘About the abortion?’

  Marina shook her head. ‘He knows way too much about me already,’ she said. ‘Everyone needs a secret, don’t they?’ She took half a step towards the door, but Sue did not step aside.

  ‘This business with the handbag and the dress,’ Sue said. ‘What’s all that about?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘That map as well and the same cushions on the sofa as us. Why are you doing all that?’

  Marina’s shoulders rose and fell slowly. She pushed her tongue against her lips, as though her mouth were dry. ‘Are you angry?’

  ‘I’m just … why are you pretending you don’t know we’ve got those things?’

  Marina pulled the dishes tight against her chest. ‘I like your … taste in things, that’s all.’

  ‘So why didn’t you just ask me?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Anyway, you’re the one who always looks amazing,’ Sue said. ‘You’ve got fantastic taste.’

  ‘None of it’s mine.’

  ‘Don’t be silly—’

  ‘No, really … nothing’s mine,’ Marina said, her eyes on the floor. She looked up and nodded in the direction of the living room. ‘Nothing except Dave, anyway. I know he’d do anything for me …’

  After a few seconds, Sue stepped forward and gently eased the shield of plates away from Marina’s chest. Then she moved around her and picked up the platter with the cheesecake on it. ‘Come on,’ she said.

  Back at the table, the appearance of dessert was greeted with applause from Angie and Barry. While Sue dished it up, Marina walked across to swap Joni Mitchell for Marvin Gaye and Ed opened another bottle of wine.

  Dave said, ‘Looks gorgeous, Maz …’

  The noises of contentment as everyone got stuck in suggested that the cheesecake tasted every bit as good as it looked. Marina watched Angie happily tucking a large slice away and said, ‘I don’t think that’s too spicy for you, is it?’ She was smiling as she spoke, but the look on Barry’s face was enough to wipe it quickly away.

  When Ed had finished, he helped himself to another glass of wine then turned slowly and deliberately towards Dave.

  ‘So … have you been sharing all this with your friend Detective Quinlan then?’

  ‘Sharing what?’ Dave asked.

  ‘Your new theories. Killers not being able to control themselves. Rape. All that.’

  ‘Come on, don’t be daft,’ Sue said.

  ‘She asked him,’ Angie said. ‘And he was only trying to help.’

  Ed ignored them. ‘Well, you might be interested to know that I told your friend where to get off.’

  ‘She’s not my friend,’ Dave said, quietly.<
br />
  ‘What did you say to her?’ Marina asked.

  Ed shrugged. ‘I told her I wouldn’t bloody well talk to her any more. Simple as that. I told her she was taking the piss, which she was.’

  ‘How?’ Angie asked.

  ‘She was … overstepping the mark,’ Ed said. He stumbled over the big word, repeated it. ‘Let’s leave it at that.’

  Angie looked at Barry and, when she turned back to Ed, she could barely conceal a smile. ‘I knew there was some reason why she was so interested in you.’

  ‘How do you mean, interested?’

  ‘Asking so many questions.’

  ‘What questions?’

  ‘What we thought about you, what you were like.’ Angie looked at Marina. ‘It wasn’t just you, by the way. She asked me what I thought about Dave as well.’

  Marina looked at Dave. ‘When?’

  ‘You were in the toilet.’

  ‘Right, for about five minutes,’ Marina said. She pointed at Ed. ‘She spent twenty minutes quizzing us about him.’

  Sue was staring at Angie. ‘What did you tell her?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Angie said.

  ‘Nothing? For twenty minutes? She must have been asking some very long questions.’

  ‘Oh, you know.’ Suddenly, Angie looked a little less comfortable. ‘I said he was funny, that he liked a laugh.’

  ‘What did you say about me?’ Dave asked.

  ‘I really can’t remember,’ Angie said. ‘Nothing …’

  ‘Incriminating?’ Dave shook his head. ‘Well, that’s good. Jesus …’

  Ed had not taken his eyes off Angie. ‘Tell me what she wanted to know, particularly. Was it more stuff about the girl in Florida or did she ask if I’d said anything about the second girl?’

  ‘Not specifically.’

  ‘Did she or didn’t she? Come on, it’s not hard.’

  ‘It was just general stuff.’

  ‘What kind of stuff?’

  ‘Background … you know.’

  ‘What the hell for?’

  ‘Leave it, Ed,’ Sue said.

  Ed shot her a look and she shrank back in her chair. He held his arms out wide. ‘Come on … we’re all friends, aren’t we?’

  ‘Maybe you should take five minutes,’ Barry said. ‘Go and have a coffee or something.’

  ‘I just want people to be honest,’ Ed said. The words were starting to thicken and slur and his face was red. ‘Fair enough? To tell me what they said to that nosy fucking bitch policewoman.’ He blinked, waited, pointed at Angie. ‘Come on, fucking tell me.’

  ‘You need to watch your mouth now,’ Barry said.

  Angie laughed it off. ‘You think I’m frightened of him?’

  ‘I’m just trying … trying to find out why she’s so interested in me,’ Ed said. ‘That’s all.’

  Sue leaned across, spoke quietly. ‘Why do you think they’re so interested in you, darling?’

  ‘Shush …’

  ‘Go on, take a wild guess.’

  ‘I said, shut up.’

  ‘Why should I?’

  ‘Because I told you to.’

  ‘I don’t care.’ Sue leaned forward. ‘You’ve had plenty to say all evening … though you were suspiciously quiet on the subject of dead children. Funny that, don’t you think?’ She smiled and looked around the table. ‘Strangely quiet about that.’

  Ed stared at her. His face was as pale as the wash of melted ice cream in the bottom of his dish.

  ‘It’s like some kind of blind spot with you,’ Sue said. ‘I mean, you’re happy enough to shout your mouth off most of the time. Crack your stupid jokes, take the piss out of Dave, try and shag anything that moves.’ She looked from one face to another. ‘But one little mention of a dead girl and all of a sudden he’s quiet as a mouse.’ She drew an imaginary zip across her mouth. ‘We all get the silent treatment then, don’t we? It’s like Kryptonite to him, a dead girl. Now, I’m sure you’ve all had a good old chat about everything by now, so you’ve probably worked out that I’m not just talking about any old dead girl—’

  Ed pushed his chair back hard enough for Sue to move a hand instinctively up to her face and for Angie to gasp. He looked hard at Sue for a few seconds, then stood up and walked unsteadily out of the room. Sue let out a long breath. She picked up her napkin and pressed it across her eyes. She croaked out a ‘sorry’, then followed her husband, closing the door behind her.

  Without a word, people began passing dirty dishes around the table to Marina. Angie raised her eyebrows at Barry. Dave was about to say something, but they could hear voices in the kitchen and Angie quickly told him to be quiet. The four of them sat and listened. The words were indistinct at first, so Marina quietly got up, walked across to the computer table and turned the volume of the music down a little.

  They heard Ed say, ‘What the fuck did you start on about that for?’

  They heard Sue say, ‘Why can’t we talk about it? Why is it always off limits?’

  They heard Ed say, ‘You’ll be fucking sorry …’

  A few moments after the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs, the door opened and Sue came back into the room.

  ‘God, I’m so sorry,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Marina said. ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘He’s pissed,’ Barry said.

  ‘I’m not though,’ Sue said. She walked calmly back to the table and sat down. ‘He’s gone to the toilet. Looked like he was going to be sick.’

  Barry caught Angie’s eye.

  ‘I think we should probably head off,’ Angie said.

  ‘No, please stay,’ Sue said quickly.

  Marina looked at Dave. Said, ‘Oh, but I presumed you’d be …’

  ‘He’s in no condition to drive,’ Sue said. ‘And I really don’t want to take him home.’ Her face crumpled, leaving nobody at the table in any doubt that the last thing she wanted at that moment was to be alone at home with her husband.

  ‘Right then.’ Dave stood up and rubbed his hands together, absurdly cheery. ‘I suppose we should think about who’s having the spare room.’

  ‘They can have it,’ Angie said. It took a second or two, but Barry nodded.

  ‘No, that’s not fair,’ Sue said.

  ‘It’s fine, really.’

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ Dave said. He walked across to the computer table, rummaged on a shelf above it and came back with a deck of playing cards. ‘Here you go.’ He shuffled the cards. ‘Highest card gets the spare room. The sofa-bed’s pretty comfortable, mind you. I’ve been on it a few times myself.’

  ‘When he’s had a cold,’ Marina said. ‘Not wanted me to catch it.’

  Sue nodded, whispered, ‘Fine.’

  ‘Yeah, why not?’ Barry nudged Angie. ‘Go on, you do it, love.’

  Dave fanned out the pack and proffered it, and while Marvin Gaye sang ‘If I Should Die Tonight’ and the toilet flushed somewhere above them, Sue and Angie each took a card.

  An hour and a half later, one of the couples is just asleep – the man snoring gently – while in the next room another talks in hushed voices about the evening’s events. He tries to make a joke about dinner parties from hell, but she doesn’t think it’s particularly funny. He says, to be serious, it makes you realise how strong your own relationship is, but she just says they should probably try and get some sleep and leans across to kiss him; dry and quick.

  The third couple is arguing.

  Within a minute or two of the shouting starting, all the people upstairs are wide awake. One couple throws off the duvet at the sound of something smashing below them. Things clattering to the floor. Encouraged by his wife, one man creeps to the bedroom door and opens it. Both couples meet on the landing just before the screaming begins and without a word they hurry downstairs.

  They stop in the doorway, stare horrified into the kitchen.

  At the body, and the blood; its fine, bright spatter on blue cotton and yellow silk. Thick and livid where it sprea
ds slowly across the black and white floor tiles. Trickles along the grout lines.

  The kneeling figure and the knife.

  The wide eyes and the scarlet fingers, wet against the sucking wound, and the mouth twisted in confusion as it repeats and repeats.

  ‘Both those girls. Both those girls …’

  FIFTY-NINE

  The 999 call was received at the national emergency call centre in Hendon and was immediately patched through to Lewisham station. Within a few minutes of the response car and the ambulance service being dispatched, Jenny Quinlan was woken up.

  ‘Jenny … it’s Sandra from the control room. Listen, we’ve caught a nasty-looking one and there’s a flag come up on the address.’

  Shivering in the hallway in nothing but a T-shirt, Jenny immediately began walking back towards her bedroom. Suddenly she had goosebumps on goosebumps. She ignored her flatmate who was peering angrily around her own door, having only recently returned from a late shift.

  ‘I flagged up three addresses,’ Jenny said. ‘Which one is it …?’

  Fifteen minutes later, she was pulling up behind a paramedic motorbike on the small street in Forest Hill. There were already two other marked police vehicles parked up parallel to residents’ cars; the blue lights still flashing on one of them, a uniformed officer digging a roll of crime scene tape from the boot of another.

  She showed him her warrant card then stood back and looked at the house while he made a show of studying it. The only one she hadn’t visited.

  As the PC tied tape to a fence post behind her, Jenny walked the few steps from pavement to front door and pushed through it. She took a deep breath and, in that moment before she released it, she could feel her heart racing.

  I was right. I knew there was something. Right from the kick-off …

  There was another uniform standing at the foot of the stairs and she could see movement on the landing one floor up. Training shoes were lined up neatly just inside the door. A pushbike was leaning against a radiator.

  Jenny could smell something like curry, and blood.

  Has anyone called Gardner yet? It should be me, of course it should.

  The door to her right was closed, but the one directly ahead opened and a man she recognised as the on-call uniformed inspector stepped out and walked towards her. She could see straight away that he had come from the kitchen. Over his shoulder she caught a glimpse of the body; a red smear on a low cupboard and a paramedic getting to his feet and snapping off protective gloves.