by Lenny Brando
86
In the morning, Cole decided he’d had enough of hangovers. He felt shit. No other way to put it. He stood and stared at the photograph of Daz in the lounge and drank a mug of tea. End of life processes? No way. He told himself Daz would be all right, but the internal words rang hollow as he realised the doctors might be right. He took a sudden gasp of breath as the realisation hit, and for a moment he thought he would break into tears, but he squeezed his eyes tight and clenched his fists until the feeling passed.
“All right, Daz. I’m gonna come see you. Gonna concentrate on you for a few days. Stay clean until you get better, you know?” He stopped and reconsidered the last intention. “Well, I ain't making no promises, know what I mean?” He was sure Daz wouldn't mind, anyway, it wasn't like Daz could hear or anything.
After he showered and shaved, he rummaged through his clothes for something that met a broad definition of clean to wear. It took longer than it should, and he bundled as much laundry as would fit in a refuse sack. He’d pay the fiver it cost for a service wash while he went to Hammersmith to see Daz.
At the hospital, Daz looked the same. Neither better nor worse. There was no sign of Ibrahim and the nurse was non-committal when Cole asked if there’d been any change in his condition. The machines still beeped and Daz still lived. Cole pondered the philosophical nature of Daz’s life, but he refused to delve into it, lest he didn't like the implications.
For several hours Cole read the paper by Daz’s side, and every now and then, he would relate a story or a snippet of a story aloud. But Daz couldn't reply, and as time passed, Cole felt more foolish talking out loud when it was obvious Daz didn't have a clue what was going on, so he stopped and kept the words to himself.
A different doctor came by, nodded at Cole and examined the machines.
“He’s my brother,” Cole said.
The doctor nodded. “I see.” He approached Cole and looked grave. “Has anyone spoken to you about possible next steps?”
“Why? You want to switch off the machines?” Cole looked at his name tag. Mr David Stenson, Consultant Neurologist.
“It may come to that. But not yet. The problem is his brain functions are lowering. There has been a plateau over the last 24 hours, which means he’s not getting any worse, but he’s not getting better either.”
“What if he doesn't get better?”
Stenson winced. “All of us will have a decision to make.”
“How long?”
Stenson pulled on his chin. “Two or three days.”
Cole looked at Daz, then back to Stenson. “Days, huh?”
Stenson nodded. “I’ll speak with Mr Ibrahim on Monday. Why don't you come in then and we’ll discuss the situation?”
Cole’s eyes glazed over, and he flexed his fingers. “That’s only two days.”
Stenson spread his hands. “We’ll know better then. Say 11:30AM?”
“Sure.”
“Okay then. I’ll leave you to him.”
Alone with Daz once more, Cole stood and took Daz’s hand in his. A hard lump formed in his throat and he tried to swallow, but he couldn't. “Don't leave me, Daz. Please? Don't do this to me.”
Cole stared and willed Daz to wake and speak. But Daz just lay motionless and machines went beep, beep, beep.
87
Laura dropped into the Xtra News office to file her expenses. As she completed the forms, she saw Burnham stand at his office door. When they made eye contact, he beckoned at her.
She scowled and got to her feet. He smiled as she entered the office. “Have a seat,” he said.
“I’m supposed to be off. Only dropped in some receipts.”
He put his hand up. “I was speaking with Sally this morning and it turns out an unknown assailant sexually assaulted Alice Madsen in her home. I suggested we do a follow up piece on the social media threats and how they migrated from the digital world to the real world.” He rubbed his chin and smiled. “Sally thinks it’s a great idea.”
“Really? You suggested?”
He nodded. “It’s a different thing to what you proposed, Laura. You’ll be the reporter. You should also interview some of the people who were there, perhaps Lewis Cole, the guy you interviewed at the scene?”
Laura ground her teeth together and her narrowed her eyes.
Burnham waved his pen at her. “If you want this, you will say, ‘Thank you, Tim. That’s great.’ If you don’t want it, you can speak your mind.”
Laura took a deep breath and put on her most insincere smile. “Thank you, Tim. That’s great.”
“You’re welcome.”
88
Alice decided she couldn't stay in the hotel room until the police caught the stalker. “I’ll go mad,” she said to Ian. “And so will you. He won't break down our door during the day, so even if we spend a few nights in the hotel, we can go home during the day. As long as you're with me, I should be safe.”
“I don't know.”
“What don't you know? Are you afraid of him?”
“A little, yeah.”
“He wants me, not you. He’s not going to tie you to your bed and rape you, is he?”
Ian looked down at the floor and sighed. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Half an hour later, Alice stood back as Ian opened the front door on Portobello Close. The alarm beeped, and they hurried inside, shutting the door behind them before Ian disarmed the alarm.
“Put it on night mode,” Alice said. “I’d feel safer.”
Ian nodded and tapped at the panel. “It’s set.”
“Good. I’ll make a coffee and then clean the bedroom. Those SOCO guys made a mess.”
As Alice brewed the coffee, she gave a start when her phone rang. She took it from her bag and checked the display before she answered. It was DS Kapoor. “Hi Alice, it’s Meera. How are you today?”
“Um, okay. I guess. I’m at home.”
“Home? I thought you were at a hotel?”
“We’re spending the nights there. Ian is with me and the alarm is on here. You don't think he’d, you know...?”
“I think you'll be fine during the day as long as you have someone with you. Anyway, I wanted to give you an update.”
Alice brought her hand to her mouth and ran her finger along her lips. She resisted the urge to pull at the skin on her knuckle with her teeth. “Uh huh?”
“We’re looking at the possibility there is a connection between the South Kensington attack and the stalker. We are working on a list of people who were at the scene and had friends or relatives killed or injured during the attack.”
“Like people still blame me?”
“The posts and comments on social media at the time suggested that, yes.”
“Supposing the person wasn’t there during the attack? It could be someone who posted the Twitter stuff, right?”
Kapoor seemed to hesitate before she replied. “Yes. But we have to start somewhere. We’re liaising with SO15. Like I said, we’re working on it. I can't give you specific investigative details, but trust me, we’re doing everything we can.”
“How long must I stay in the hotel?”
“It’s difficult to say. I suggest you wait until we’ve identified and interviewed people that match our profile criteria.”
“And if it’s not one of them?”
“We’ll worry about that later, okay?”
“I suppose. Were you able to recover the videos on the camera? What can I expect?”
“Nothing terribly embarrassing. Sure, you're naked, but there’s no sex and a lot of the footage is grainy. Further, you're not recognisable in most of it. I wouldn't lose any sleep over this. I can share them with you if you like? That way it may be less of a worry.”
“Please, yes. Can you put them on a file sharing app? Like DropBox?”
“Sure. I’ll send you a link. Other than that, how are you?”
“Okay, I guess. I have an appointment with a counsellor in the Havens later.”
&n
bsp; “Good…” Kapoor paused. “Um, Alice? We watched the footage of the assault and saw how you fought him off. You never said you sprayed him with something? Was it, um, perfume?”
“Oh. I see.” Alice scratched her head and ran various options through her head. Was Kapoor prompting her? “I… I must have forgotten that. He took perfume from the bathroom and sprayed it on me. Yes. I sprayed him in the eyes. It must have helped.”
“Good. That explains that. Call me if you have any questions, or if you see anything unusual.”
When she ended the call, Alice poured a coffee and said to Ian, “They’re working on it with SO15...” She paused at Ian’s look. “Yeah, I know. The ones who arrested me.”
“Bastards.”
“She’s going to send me a link to the videos they recovered from the camera in the bedroom. She says you wouldn't know it was me in most of them.”
“At least that’s something good.”
“Maybe. But I had to lie about the mace again. I said it was perfume.”
“They believe that?”
Alice shrugged. “I think they know. Maybe Kapoor is all right, like she’s a good one.”
“Do you want me to get rid of it?”
“Wait until they catch him.”
“Any suspects?”
Alice shook her head. “Don't think so. Checking people connected to victims of the attack.”
“I hope it’s one of them and not a random guy. How will they identify a random guy?”
“Positive thinking there Ian, huh? How do you think that makes me feel?”
“Sorry. Don't mean it like that. I’m sure they’ll catch the guy soon.”
Alice took a sip of her coffee. “Sometimes I think they'll catch him, and all this goes away. Other times I think I’ll be looking over my shoulder for ever.” She set down her coffee and held her head in her hands. Ian came over and put his arms around her. He stroked her hair and she rested her head against his chest. “What does this guy want?”
89
When Kapoor ended the call to Alice, she spread her palms and turned to Manning. “I lied Liz. Damn well lied. We don't even have the list from SO15 yet, and I’ve spent most of my time on the Natalie Johnson case.”
“The rape?”
“Yeah. Two guys she knew raped her at a party, they say it was consensual, she says it wasn’t. I was with her all morning, now I’ve got to update the damn computer.”
“I’ve got other cases too. Four domestics with a violent partner still in the same house. One is a real nasty bastard. I’m sure he's going to kill her some night, but there’s little we can do. She won't press charges, either from fear or dependency...”
Kapoor put up her hand. “Sorry, Liz. I know. I know. It's a shit world for some people but we can't save them all. It’s not possible. However, we can save some. Yes, we have to prioritise, and I’m juggling Alice and Natalie. With Alice it’s about prevention, with Natalie it’s about justice. I know yours are also about prevention and if there is anything I can do to help, I will try. But I need help with Alice.”
“But what can I do?”
“Nothing until we get that damn list from SO15.” Kapoor shook her head. “Sod it. I’m gonna call Marks.”
“Good luck. You want me to get you a coffee?”
Kapoor nodded and picked up her phone. When Manning left, Kapoor scrolled through her contacts until she found Marks.
“Yes?”
“Inspector, this is DS Kapoor from...”
“I know who you are.”
Kapoor rolled her eyes at the interruption. “I’m the OIC in a sexual assault case involving Alice Madsen. You had her in custody in connection with the South Kensington attack...”
“What has this got to do with SO15?”
“I’ve submitted a request for a list of witnesses to the attack. Our working theory is that a witness to the attack may have sexually assaulted her. We would like to identify males in the 20-40 age group present at the scene who had a relative or friend injured or killed in the attack. Then we want to investigate whether any of their mobile phones were in the Portobello Close area during the time of the assault.”
“Sergeant, you are aware we deal with terrorist offences in SO15?”
“Yes, Sir.” She heard Marks tapping on a keyboard.
“Is this a terrorist offence?”
Kapoor rubbed the back of her neck to ease the tight muscles. “No, Sir.”
“So what do you expect me to do?”
Kapoor took a deep breath. “I think you owe Alice Madsen, Sir.”
Marks laughed. “For what?”
“Arresting her when she had no involvement.”
Marks grunted and continued at the keyboard. “I’m looking at the case file. It mentions Captagon.”
“Yes, Sir. The perpetrator dropped a bag containing the pills.”
“Interesting. Partial prints on some pills. Okay, we’ll run those.”
“Can you get me the information I need on the phones in Portobello Close?”
“Let’s look at the Captagon first. According to the case file, Madsen claimed her assailant dropped them during a struggle.”
“That’s correct, Sir. Yes.”
“Is there any possibility the Captagon is Madsen’s?”
“No.” Kapoor ran her fingers through her hair. “I mean, why would she give it to us?”
“Madsen could be playing you.”
“With respect, Sir. She’s not. I believe revenge drove her attacker and he is now obsessed with her. There is a likelihood of a further attack, and I want to prevent that. We owe her. You owe her.”
Marks snorted. “I owe the citizens of this city a duty of care to protect them from terror attacks.”
“The needs of the many, huh?”
“Not sure I understand.”
“I’m sure you do, Inspector.”
“Look, Sergeant. I don't trust Madsen. For all I know, Madsen and her alleged assailant are conspiring together.”
“For God’s sake, Inspector. He tied her to the bed and sexually assaulted her.”
“Have you seen the photograph in her lounge? I think you’ll find she likes a bit of rough.”
90
Laura finished making a list of the people she wanted to interview. Researchers had given her more than she needed, but she used her judgement to whittle down the number. The two she needed most of all were Alice Madsen and Lewis Cole. She called Alice first.
“Alice, hi. It’s Laura Bowfield from Xtra News.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I’m very sorry to hear about what happened. Are you all right?”
“You calling to find out how I am?”
“Partly, yes. That shouldn't happen to anyone. Listen, Alice. Perhaps we could help?”
“Help? How?”
“Do an interview with...”
Alice’s laugh was bitter. “Like that’s a priority of mine right now.”
“I was thinking Monday or Tuesday. You could show people you were a victim of the attack as much as the others.”
“Are you crazy? No. They’ll never see me as a victim. It’ll be an excuse for more hate. Did you know he had a camera in my bedroom for weeks?”
“Jesus. I didn’t know.” Laura held the phone tighter. “Wait, Alice. Do you know this guy? How did he...”
“It’s a long story.”
“Then you need to tell it.”
“I don't think so.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m already an object of hate, and what will people think if he shares those videos?”
“Have you seen them?”
“Yes. The police recovered the deleted files from the SD card in the camera. Sometimes I think they’re useless because the quality is so poor and there’s nothing bad in them, but other times, like today, I feel invaded. We moved into a hotel in Ladbroke Grove for a few days, just in case. The whole thing is getting me down. They’ve no suspects.” Alice sounded like
she was ready to break down. “I’ve said too much. I can't trust journalists.”
“Can I try to build trust? Will you give me a chance?”
“Like what? Editorial control?”
Laura laughed. “You know that can’t happen. I’ll tell you what, though. We could meet and talk. You know, feel it out.”
Alice hesitated. “Why should I help you?”
“You’ll be helping yourself. Think of this as an opportunity.”
“I don't know.”
“Let’s meet up. If you don't like me or what I can do, we call it off. How about that?”
“That might work.” She sounded uncertain. “But no promises, okay?”
“What hotel are you in?”
“The Metro.”
“Great, Alice. How about tomorrow?”
Laura smiled to herself. One down. Next, she called Lewis Cole, but his phone went to voice mail, and rather than leave a message, Laura closed the call. She’d get Cole soon enough.
91
On Sunday, Kristin sat back on the Heathrow Express to Paddington and called Alice. “Hey. Just back from the show, on the train. Got your text. What’s up?”
“A long story.”
“You sound funny. Everything all right?”
“No.”
Kristin sat up straight. “What’s wrong?”
“Could you come over? We’re in the house.”
“Sure. But what happened?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here, okay?”
After the call, Kristin held her phone tight and caught sidelong glances from nearby passengers. She wanted to call Olivia, but not with the people in the surrounding seats likely to eavesdrop. Instead she tried to concentrate on the social media returns from Astrid’s show, but she couldn't focus and soon zoned out to watch shadowy reflections in the window.
Her curiosity and anxiety rose as the taxi worked its way from Paddington to Portobello Close. As she paid the driver, she noticed the ‘for sale’ sign no longer stood in the front garden. She got a shock when Alice opened the door.
“Oh my God, Alice? Did they arrest you again?”
Alice shook her head and they hugged in the hallway. “Do I look that bad?”
