I pulled Jem’s phone from my trouser pocket. Shit, I’d broken the screen. It was still readable, but it made life tricky in the darkness. I had to get inside the office. I’d already opened the window, Martin’s office light was still on. There was something on the blind now, not much, but a splash of something, a silhouette. Was it blood?
I ran towards the drainpipe, forgetting about the soreness in my leg. I pulled myself up, balancing once more on the plastic pipework. I cursed myself again for falling, then began to pull myself through the narrow window. I scraped my stomach on the bricks in the wall and on the window frame. I put my hands on the rim of the toilet to pull myself inside – it was none too clean.
Eventually I managed to haul my entire body into the room. It took an undignified roll to get my legs through the window without my head landing in the shit-plastered bowl.
I was cautious now, nervous of what I’d find in Martin’s office. I’d used these toilets before, I saw where I was as soon as I stepped out into the corridor. I couldn’t hear a thing. No voices, no shouting. Yes … there was something. A quiet sobbing. A man. It wasn’t Jem. It was a really whiny cry. It had to be Martin Travis.
I moved towards Martin’s office door. There was blood on the handle. I burst inside and rapidly scanned the room. There was more blood on the white blinds, as I’d thought. Two people were sitting on Martin’s settee, both with heads bowed, a man and a woman. They looked up as I entered, terror in their eyes.
It was Ellie and Martin Travis. Martin’s face was bloody. It looked as if he’d been shot a couple of times, but he didn’t seem to be at risk of dying. The blood must have been his, there were no bodies anywhere. And no Meg either.
They were bound together on the settee, their legs fastened by parcel tape, a figure of eight weaving in and out of their limbs. Their hands were also taped, not together like the legs, they had some small degree of movement. Each had tape around the mouth too. Ellie looked scared and sweaty, her long hair was drenched. Martin was cowed and badly hurt, his wounds looked deep and sore.
I looked around for something to cut the tape with. Martin started mumbling something.
‘Sorry,’ I said, stepping over to remove the tape from their mouths.
‘This is going to hurt, Martin,’ I warned, as I pulled the tape that was stopping him from speaking. It had caught up in the facial hair that I hated so much. At last I was getting to give Martin Travis a partial face wax.
He took deep breaths, he’d been struggling I think. Ellie looked calmer. I removed her tape more gently than Martin’s. She gasped for breath too.
‘Thank God, Pete. Christ this is a bloody mess!’
‘There are scissors in my top drawer,’ Martin interrupted. ‘Get my blue asthma inhaler out of there too, please.’
Ellie and Martin had started to work the tape with their fingers, but it was securely if inexpertly applied. I put them out of their misery, cutting through the tape and giving them their freedom. Martin took two deep breaths from his inhaler, it seemed to relax him immediately.
‘What happened here?’ I asked.
Martin and Ellie both began to speak at once. Martin let Ellie lead.
‘Jesus, Pete. I got to your house and all hell had been let loose. Tony Miller dead and some other guy too. There were two women in the house, one of them has to be your Meg. I walked right into it. One of them had a gun for fuck’s sake ...’
‘That was Sally Denning. You know her, Peter, I think?’ said Martin.
‘Why does Sally have a gun?’ I asked.
‘It’s some kind of air pistol,’ Ellie said. ‘It looks like something off the TV. A Beretta, something like that. It’s not a real gun, though. She shot Martin a couple of times … are you okay?’
Ellie looked guilty, as if she’d completely abandoned her fellow captive.
‘She shot me twice in the face and once in the foot. It hurts like mad,’ Martin answered. I could see the small hole in his shoe, I hadn’t noticed it previously. There was a small patch of blood on the carpet.
‘It’s one of these CO2 air pistols, I think,’ Ellie resumed. ‘We’ve done stories on them on the bulletins. Usually teenagers shooting at cats. They don’t kill, but they can mess you up pretty bad.’
‘Is Meg alright? Is she hurt?’
‘She’s alright, Pete, but I don’t know how safe she is now. This is really messed up. I don’t know who’s been shagging who, but this is one big bloody mess!’
‘Where is she?’ I asked, anxious to move on, to bring the whole sorry story to an end.
‘I don’t know where they went,’ Martin said. ‘She has Jeremy with her too, Peter—’
‘Will you please just call me Pete!’ I shouted, then immediately regretted it. He looked like a scolded dog.
‘I’m sorry, Martin,’ I said. ‘I think we’re all feeling the stress a bit.’
‘It’s okay, Pete. I need to tell you something about Meg. This would normally be confidential, but under the circumstances ...’
Oh God. I wasn’t sure that I could take any more revelations. I had a feeling I knew what was coming.
‘Go on,’ I said, sitting down in Martin’s armchair. ‘I know you fancy her, Martin. You don’t need to confess that.’
‘For heaven’s sake, Pete. Meg said you could be a prat sometimes. I’m gay! I love Meg as a friend, but I’m not into women. I think women just find me safe to talk to ...’
My face reddened. I would not have guessed at that one. I was embarrassed. It was just one more blow to add to my feelings of humiliation and stupidity.
‘It’s nothing to do with that, anyway. That night when Meg and I went out for food, she wanted to tell me something. Something that she didn’t want you to know, Peter – Pete.’
I looked at him, I was too ashamed to open my mouth.
‘You must have worked out who she slept with? It’s why we couldn’t tell you.’
‘Jem?’ It had to be that bastard.
Martin nodded.
‘But it’s not what it looks like, Pete. That night we went out, Meg wanted to confide in me. She admitted that she had been out with Jeremy, once, and in secret. They’d gone out for drinks. She felt that you and she had been growing apart. She wanted to talk to Jeremy, see if you’d said anything to him. She was trying to save your marriage, Pete.’
‘So why did she sleep with him? Why did she sleep with a mate from work of all people?’
‘That’s just it, Pete. You were on a late shift that night. She went out with Jeremy, she knew you wouldn’t find out. She wanted to see what was on your mind, push him for some information. She remembers having a glass of wine. She has memories of him touching her hand in the pub. She recalls thinking that he was being overfamiliar. She only has flashbacks after that. Driving back to your house in Jeremy’s car. Her skirt pulled up above her waist. The bedroom in your house. Jem’s face next to hers. Him breathing deeply.’
Martin must have seen the pain on my face. I needed to listen, but I couldn’t bear to hear the words.
‘Did she want him to do it, Martin? Was it consensual?’
‘She doesn’t know, Pete. She came round later that evening. Jeremy had gone. There was semen on the bed. Her pants were at the top of the stairs. She panicked, Pete. She thought that she’d led him on. She thought that she was to blame. It was killing her. The first time she said anything was when we met up that night. She was confused. She didn’t know what to do or who to tell. She thought that nobody would believe her.’
I felt a creeping chill move through my body. I knew what Jem had done. I understood now how the bastard had betrayed me.
Before I met Meg, Jem and I had been commissioned by our then boss to research a week-long series of broadcasts on date-rape drugs. A student from the local university had reported a lecturer to the authorities and it had shocked everybody in the community. The concept of date rape was new and unfamiliar at the time.
When you’re a journalist, you
can get away with a lot in the name of research. I remember a story about a local girl who’d secured a slot in a porno mag. We’d all assumed that she’d got her kit off and done some tasteful shots. In the interests of in-depth research, when that issue of the magazine came out, we dispatched a young reporter with a fistful of petty cash to buy it from the nearest newsagent. She’d done a full gynaecological number. There was no crevice left unexplored by the camera. I got to interview her too. I like to think of myself as a man of the world, but it’s difficult to have a formal conversation with someone when you’ve taken a glance up their arsehole.
It was a similar thing with the date-rape story. We were working closely with the police; they supported our public information radio reports, and we were educating vulnerable women about the risks that they faced. We were given access to some of the drugs so that we could see what they looked like. It was important for the reporting to get the details right. We needed to describe the tablets, the boxes that they came in, the websites that supplied them.
It seemed to make Jem quite excited. He’d make tasteless jokes about deploying the drugs at home. ‘I might get Sally to give me a decent blow job!’ he’d say. Or once, worryingly, he talked about working his way through the latest crop of students on short work placements. ‘I might finally get a threesome with some fit students!’ he’d laughed.
I’d shrugged it off at the time. It’s not my sort of humour. I love sex, but it has to be completely consensual, that’s the fun of it as far as I’m concerned. Nothing beats hot, passionate, fully consensual sex.
Jem must have sensed my distaste at the jokes. It was as if he was testing my limits. Well, I’d drawn my line. I hated the thought of the date-rape drugs, it made me feel sick. As far as I was concerned, it was rape. No ifs, no buts, none of ‘I was just having a bit of fun’, it was rape and there was no excuse for it. Jem’s jokes stopped, but his fascination didn’t. He couldn’t believe that these things could be bought online. Or even better, at clubs in the city.
As I sat in Martin’s office listening to him describing Meg’s experiences, I saw how naive I’d been. It was all beginning to make sense. Anna. Meg. The other young students who came and went. And Sally’s terrible anger.
‘Did Sally know?’ I asked. ‘Did she know what he was up to?’
‘She suspected, Pete, she didn’t know. You know that I dealt with their marriage break-up don’t you? Did Jeremy tell you?’
‘No, he didn’t talk about it,’ I replied. ‘He used to curse Sally and how she was squeezing him over the kids and the money. He’s done this before, Martin. Meg is not the first. I should have seen this. I should have known this is what he was doing.’
‘Jeremy is the only one to blame here, Pete …’
Martin was slipping into counsellor mode.
‘No, I should have seen this. I laughed him off, thinking he was my best mate. I let Anna down. I should have known. If I’d done something, I could have helped Meg.’
Ellie’s face was white. She could probably see where I was going. My wife had been raped by my best friend. She’d been coming to visit me on my birthday and I’d been shagging Ellie. She looked as ashamed as I felt.
‘Who killed Tony Miller and Jason Davies?’ I asked. ‘Was it Meg?’
‘I don’t know,’ Martin replied. He looked at Ellie.
‘I walked into the house in the middle of it,’ she said. ‘I very nearly ended up like Tony. Sally was doing her nut at the time. I can’t say I’m unhappy about Tony. He deserved what was coming to him, but I don’t know how he got killed. Sally pointed the gun at me and Meg and drove us over here. I wasn’t going to argue.’
‘What happened in here? I heard shouting. I heard Meg, didn’t I?’
‘Jeremy came straight from your house,’ Martin answered. ‘He looked like you’d beaten him up – I see that he got a few punches in too. Sally went crazy when he came in. She’d asked him to come. I don’t know how many pellets she has in that gun of hers, but he took a couple in the groin.’
‘Sally’s insane, Pete,’ Ellie said. ‘I think she reckons Jem and Meg were having an affair. I don’t think she even knows about the date-rape thing. God knows what she’s planning to do!’
She saw my face change.
‘Look, I’m sorry, Pete, but this woman is nuts. Believe me, I’ve been stalked by Tony Miller, I know all about nutters, she’s got a screw loose. The real question is: what is she going to do next?’
Chapter Seventeen
‘We’ve got to call the police now, this is getting too complicated!’ I said. I had to get Meg away from Sally.
It seemed that Sally was putting two and two together and making five. Jem had taken advantage of Meg and had been a total dickhead with Sally. He must have pushed her over the edge.
‘How much did Sally know about what Jem was doing?’ I asked Martin. ‘I know it’s all supposed to be confidential, but come on, we need to end this now.’
Martin didn’t hesitate.
‘She knew he was having casual flings with young reporters. She could smell it on him when he came home at night. They’d had a sexless marriage for years. She was happy that he left her alone and didn’t make any sexual demands on her. She was staying with him for the kids. And she needed the money, of course -– she’d given up work when it became cheaper to stay at home than to pay the childcare. She told me that she felt trapped but that she couldn’t leave. She’d been very depressed. She was on medication.’
It was as if he was reading out their case notes. Martin knew more about us than anyone else, even our own spouses.
‘Did she suspect what he was doing, though? Did she know what he’d done with Meg?’
‘She suspected Meg. She told me once in one of our one-to-one meetings. She came to see me several times after she threw Jeremy out of the house. She knew that his latest conquest was different ... I’m sorry, Pete. I shouldn’t have used that word.’
‘It’s okay, it’s fine, carry on ...’
‘Sally thought Jeremy was in love. She knew that he’d slept with someone, but it was more than the usual fling. This one seemed to mean more to him. She couldn’t take that, it was the final humiliation for her.’
‘Okay, look Ellie, I need you to make a call to the police. Don’t tell them that you’ve seen me. We need them out looking for Meg. If they can get to her before I can I’ll have to settle for that. Tell them that it’s connected with the death of Tony Miller. They’ve got you on their records, they’ll believe you. My address is 11 Ashbourne Drive. Mention that, it’ll get their attention. Tell them that Meg is in danger.’
I thought about the gun that Sally had used.
‘Can she hurt someone with that gun? Could she kill with it?’
Ellie considered this for a few seconds, no doubt thinking through her TV report.
‘It’s possible, but it’s unlikely, Pete. You could blind somebody, certainly hurt them. But killing, no.’
‘She had that knife, though,’ added Martin, ‘covered in blood. It had some flesh caught in the serrated edge. It was horrible.’
Martin wasn’t helping to put my mind at ease.
‘Shit. That’s the knife from our kitchen. It’s what was used to kill Miller and Davies. She won’t use it on Meg and Jem, surely? What do you think she’s after?’
There was silence from Martin and Ellie.
‘Revenge, I think,’ said Martin after a while, ‘but I don’t know what that will mean. She got Jeremy over here by threatening the safety of the kids, said she’d left them in a hotel room in town on their own where he couldn’t get to them. She wanted him with Meg. Sally wanted to hear the truth from both of them together.’
‘Ellie, you’d better mention the children when you call the police. You don’t think she’d hurt the kids do you, Martin?’
‘I don’t think so, but she’s been increasingly irrational at our sessions. I tried to get her to talk to her doctor, I was concerned about her mental healt
h. Her anger was directed at Jeremy – and whoever he’d slept with. Now she knows it was Meg I don’t know what she’ll do.’
‘Okay, here’s the plan. Ellie, call the police. Tell them about Sally, Meg and Jem. Let them know that the kids may have been left somewhere. They should check Jem’s house. They live at 19 Oswald Close.’ I scribbled that address and my address on some notepaper from Martin’s desk. Ellie wasn’t local, these streets would mean nothing to her.
‘Are you okay, Ellie? I’m sorry, I didn’t ask you. Have you been hurt?’
‘I’m fine, Pete, honestly. This is not my idea of a great Saturday night out, but we need to end this. Martin’s the one who got hurt. She has a baseball bat in the car too, she left it in on the front seat when we met Martin here. Be careful of that too, Pete.’
I felt a pang of remorse for the way I’d treated Martin. Poor bugger had been shot by Sally. He’d been held captive, summoned to his office late at night by a woman who’d flipped. And his knowledge of what was going on had already helped to make some more sense out of this crazy situation.
‘Martin, you should call a taxi to take you to A&E.’
He nodded. I looked at his facial wounds. They looked sore and bloody, but I couldn’t see how someone could be killed with a gun like that. It would be good as a threat, I certainly wouldn’t want to be shot by one, but it couldn’t kill. Sally’s knife was more of a concern. And that bloody baseball bat.’
‘Who killed Tony and Jason? Do you know?’
Martin and Ellie looked at each other. It was the second time I’d pushed them, I had to know.
‘They were dead when I got to your house,’ Ellie said. ‘Meg and Sally were covered in blood when I arrived. I don’t know who did it, but Sally was in control of the situation, it must have been her.’
Martin spoke.
‘I met Meg and Sally here, Pete. It was me who let them in. I thought it might help, I was wrong about that. I got a voicemail from Meg yesterday telling me she needed to speak to me. That’s why I texted you, Peter – Pete. She sounded tense. I tried to contact her on her mobile, but couldn’t raise her. When you didn’t get back to me, I started to get worried. I wondered if you’d had an argument. It was Sally who asked me to come here. She said she needed to speak. Urgently. I didn’t know she had Meg with her. I didn’t know what she’d done ...’
Don't Tell Meg Trilogy Box Set Page 21
