by Alex Lake
‘Claire, are you sure he’s there? Sometimes you hear a noise in a dream and think it’s real.’
‘I wasn’t asleep. I was lying here, wide awake, thinking about all this, and then I heard it. Soft footsteps downstairs and then a hinge squeaking as a door opened and a click as it shut. There’s no doubt.’
He could hardly refuse, but then he didn’t want to. If Bryant was here, this was his chance to put a stop to it. There’d be a melee of some sort. It would be dark, and distracting. If Alfie happened to hit Bryant a little too hard or a few too many times with a pitching wedge, then so be it.
Sorry, Officer. It was self-defence. I thought he had a gun. It was hard to see. I didn’t mean to kill him.
Yes, Mick’s lawyers would get him off, no problem.
OK,’ Alfie said. ‘Let’s go.’
He crept across the bedroom and opened the door. He listened downstairs.
Nothing.
Taking Claire’s hand, he walked slowly along the landing and halfway down the stairs. From there he could see the door to the front room.
It was closed. Fully closed. Wasn’t it normally open, at least a crack? Hadn’t it been when he passed it on his way to bed?
His heart sped up, and he stopped to listen once more.
Again, nothing.
The golf clubs were propped up inside the cupboard under the stairs. He descended the last few stairs and pulled one out, carefully and soundlessly, and handed it to Claire. He took another – a pitching wedge, as it happened – for himself, holding it halfway down so he could swing it more effectively.
He gestured to Claire to stand back from the living room door and gripped the handle.
Slowly, he began to turn it.
ii
With the curtain closed, the room was almost totally dark. As soon as the door was open, Alfie reached up to the left, the golf club poised in his right hand, and switched on the lights.
He stood in the doorway and scanned the room. It was empty.
‘Bryant?’ he said. ‘Are you in here?’
There was no reply. Just the silence of the early hours of the morning. On the DVD player under the television the time blinked in green numbers:
02.33
Alfie turned to Claire. ‘He’s not here. There’s nowhere in the room he could be hiding. I’ll check the rest of the house, to be sure, but I think you may have heard something and thought it was Bryant. It’s understandable. You’re under a lot of strain.’
Which is maybe what happened with the man at the kitchen window, he thought. But what about the guy in the street? Who knew what was happening there? That was the problem: no one knew.
‘I wasn’t hearing things,’ Claire said. Her voice was even. ‘He was here, Alfie.’ She stepped past him into the room and pulled back the curtains. ‘Look.’
She pointed to the right side of the bay window. The sash was raised.
The window was wide open.
‘That wasn’t me,’ Claire said. ‘I didn’t open it. I have no reason to.’ She turned to face Alfie. ‘Did you do it?’
Alfie looked at the window, then at Claire. He shook his head. ‘No, I didn’t.’
Claire gave a half-smile. ‘Then it was him. He was here. Again.’
They sat in the kitchen, a pot of coffee on the table in front of them. They both knew that sleep would be impossible so there was no point going back to bed. They might as well start their day. It was going to be a long one.
Alfie sipped his drink. He caught Claire’s glance. ‘Tell me about him,’ he said, softly. ‘What’s he like?’ He was genuinely interested. Whoever it was had some style, and some balls.
Claire stared into her coffee. She thought for a long time, then turned to face Alfie.
‘I don’t really know. He was charming. Very relaxed – I was at ease with him immediately. But looking back he was kind of a blank slate. He never gave an opinion. Never talked about what football team he followed or films he liked or books he read. He laughed a lot. A warm, genuine laugh at whatever I said, which made me feel good – we all want to be funny – and which made me feel he was safe. I think I’d have been wary of someone who was very intense, or secretive. He was easy-going and open, but now I see there was nothing there. It was all an act, and I fell for it. Looking back, I think he was deliberately being the person he thought I wanted him to be.’
She looked away.
‘But the truth is I was so focused on myself that I didn’t really think about him,’ she said, her voice barely audible. ‘That’s how I got into this mess in the first place.’
‘What happened?’ Alfie said. ‘Why were you looking for another man? I thought you were happy with me?’
‘I was!’ Claire said. ‘And I am. But all the problems we were having about getting pregnant made me think everything was falling apart. I needed an escape. And the guy at work—’
‘Who was he?’
‘One of the accountants, Rob. He’s married. It was only a fling.’
‘How many times did you – you know?’
‘Twice. It wasn’t very good – for either of us. We both knew we had too much to lose. Which was when I thought of the internet. I’d heard about people meeting up for no-strings-attached sex and it seemed a good idea.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know why. It seems crazy now, but then? I was in a mess and I didn’t know what to do.’
‘I still can’t believe it, Claire.’
‘Me neither. It was stupid and irresponsible and I wish I’d never done it. But not because of what happened to me. Because of what I did to you. You deserve better, Alfie, and I’m so sorry. I don’t know if you’ll be able to forgive me, but I promise you – if you do, I’ll never let you down again.’
She was pale, her eyes puffy and sunken in her face. She looked miserable.
Good. He hoped she never felt better, the stupid bitch.
‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘I forgive you already. People make mistakes. Bad mistakes. You, me, everybody. And I understand why you felt so desperate. I felt the same. I want kids too.’
‘But you didn’t go and have sex with someone,’ Claire said. ‘You didn’t screw the receptionist at work.’
‘No. I went out and got drunk. I left you alone to deal with everything, when you needed me. And maybe I would have done something else. Who knows? The point here, Claire, is that these things happen. A marriage lasts a lifetime, and there will be challenges – some big, like this one – and the main thing – the only thing – is how you deal with them.’
Claire started to speak, but Alfie raised a hand to stop her.
‘Let me finish. What I want you to know is that all of this is no more than a challenge. Yes, you did something bad and hurtful. Yes, I’m upset. More than upset. But none of what happened changes the one key fact in all of this: I love you, Claire. And as long as that’s true, the rest is irrelevant. So all I need to know is that you love me too.’ He caught her eye. ‘Do you?’
She had tears running down her cheeks.
‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘yes, I do. I don’t deserve you, Alfie, but I love you more than I ever have.’
Alfie knew it was time to reassure her. He softened his expression and put a sweet smile on his face.
‘Then we’re going to be just fine,’ he said.
iii
A few minutes before six a.m. Alfie poured a cup of coffee – his third – and sent DI Wynne a text message:
Bryant was here in the night. Inside the house. He left when we interrupted him
She replied immediately. She was evidently not a late sleeper.
OK. I’ll call it in. Don’t disturb anything. Will be there first thing
The doorbell rang an hour later. Alfie opened the front door, expecting to see Wynne and Lawless, but there were two men standing there. They were both in their late forties, with close-cropped hair and watchful expressions. They were dressed in dark blue uniforms, a silver tree logo on the left breast. It took Alfie a second
to realize they were the security guards Mick had sent. They looked, to his untrained eye, like professionals, maybe former soldiers or cops.
‘Mr Daniels?’ one of them said. ‘I’m Carl. This is Kevin.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Alfie said. ‘Thanks for coming. I’m Alfie.’ He beckoned them inside. ‘Come in.’
He led them to the living room. Claire stood up to greet them.
‘Morning,’ she said. ‘Thank you for coming.’
‘Pleasure,’ Carl said. ‘Glad to be here. I’m Carl. This is Kevin.’ He kept his eyes on hers, but Alfie noticed them flickering lower as he gestured to his colleague. It reminded him that Claire was very beautiful, even when she was tired and dressed in a pair of old jeans and a hooded top. Maybe that was what was behind Bryant’s perseverance. People did strange things when they thought they were in love.
‘Tea?’ Alfie asked.
Carl nodded. ‘Thanks. Never turn down a brew. While you make it, we’ll get started.’
‘Of course,’ Claire said. ‘What do you need to do?’
‘Take a look around the house,’ Kevin said. He had a strong Liverpool accent. ‘See where the entry and exit points are. Understand what we’re dealing with.’
The doorbell rang. ‘That’ll be the cops,’ Alfie said. ‘I’ll let them in.’
DI Wynne and DS Lawless were outside.
‘Morning, Mr Daniels,’ DI Wynne said. ‘Is this too early?’
‘No. We’ve been awake since two in the morning.’
‘Was that when he was here?’ Lawless said.
‘Yes.’ Alfie opened the door fully. ‘Why don’t you come in? Claire can explain what happened better than me.’
DI Wynne and DS Lawless followed him into the living room. Wynne raised an eyebrow when she saw the two men. ‘Carl and Kevin,’ Alfie introduced them. ‘They’re going to be providing some additional security.’
‘Very good,’ DI Wynne said. She smiled at the security guards. ‘I’d like to talk to you, if I could. When we’re finished here.’
‘Of course,’ Carl said. ‘We’ll have a little look around and then we’ll be outside.’
‘You’ll need to wait to have a look around,’ Lawless said. ‘We’ve got some technicians coming to see if he left any traces. There could be fingerprints. Maybe other things.’
‘No problem,’ Carl replied. ‘Let us know when you’re ready.’
He and Kevin left the room. When they were gone, Alfie gestured at the sofa and DI Wynne sat down.
‘So,’ she said. ‘What happened?’
‘I couldn’t sleep,’ Claire said. ‘And as I was lying in bed I heard footsteps downstairs, followed by the sound of the door to the front room closing. I woke Alfie and we came downstairs, but there was no one here.’
‘The window was open, though,’ Alfie said. ‘It looks like he went out through it.’
‘What kind of footsteps?’ Wynne said. ‘Loud, like hard-soled shoes, or soft, like trainers?’
‘Soft,’ Claire said. ‘I knew it was footsteps because of the regular pattern.’
Wynne nodded. ‘And the door closing? Was it the squeak of the hinges? Or the thud as it shut?’
‘Neither. It was the click of the handle.’
‘And when you came down, he was gone?’ Lawless said. ‘But the window was open?’
‘Yes,’ Alfie replied. ‘He must have left that way.’
‘Was any other window open? Or the back door?’ Lawless said.
‘No,’ Alfie said. ‘I checked.’
‘Then I’m wondering how he got in,’ Lawless said, glancing at DI Wynne.
Wynne pursed her lips. ‘Maybe through the same window he left by,’ she said. ‘But that’s not the mystery. The mystery is why he would do it at all. Why break in only to leave?’
‘For the same reason he showed up at the window,’ Alfie said. ‘Because he’s sick.’
‘Or because he wants something,’ Wynne said. ‘What it is, I don’t know.’ She stood up. ‘There’ll be some SOCOs – Scene of Crime Officers – here soon. They’ll look for prints. As soon as they’re finished and we have their report, we’ll be in touch. We’ll also talk to the neighbours again to see if anyone saw him.’
She paused for a moment and then stood up. She looked at Claire, and then at Alfie. When she spoke she looked almost troubled.
‘I’m glad you have those security guards,’ she said. ‘Be careful.’
Wednesday
i
Alfie woke up around midday. After the SOCOs had left, he and Claire had gone back to bed. It was much easier to sleep when the security guards were outside, although their presence didn’t solve the rest of his problems.
He still had Bryant to worry about. Bryant, who didn’t actually exist, but had become the secret identity for two people. First him, and now someone who was using it to stalk his wife.
And although there was no Henry Bryant, whoever was doing this was real. They had abducted Claire and they were still after her, despite the risks.
Which gave Alfie a problem. DI Wynne thought Claire was the second person Henry Bryant had abducted, and so she was looking for a serial criminal – probably a murderer – which was why she was so confused about why Bryant kept coming to the house. He had seen it on her face: why was he doing this? Why not move on to his next victim? That was what he had done – so Wynne thought – after Pippa. Who was he and what motive could he have to return time and again?
There was something else going on here, and it didn’t fit the pattern Wynne expected, and she was clearly bothered by it.
That was because there was no pattern. Claire was not his second victim at all, but Alfie could hardly tell Wynne that, because he would also have to tell her that he was the one who had killed Pippa Davies-Hunt. And so she would remain focused on the wrong question – who was Henry Bryant? – and not on the questions she needed to be asking. She would not be asking what was so special about Claire?
Which was the question Alfie kept asking himself. Unfortunately, he had no idea of the answer.
He made a sandwich for lunch and read the news on his phone. Claire and Pippa were still dominating the headlines:
Police are continuing their search for the man who abducted Claire Daniels last week. Mrs Daniels, who is married, went missing after meeting Henry Bryant on an internet site and arranging a series of illicit liaisons.
She was held captive before escaping and being found wandering in the New Forest. The police have asked anyone who witnessed anything unusual in the vicinity to come forward. They are particularly interested in any information related to a white van that may be connected to the case.
Detective Inspector Jane Wynne urged young women to exercise caution when arranging to meet people they know only from internet websites.
‘There is a lot of risk attached to these kinds of situations,’ she said. ‘You don’t know if the person is using their real name, and you don’t know what their motivations are. I strongly suggest taking precautions, such as meeting in well-lit, busy places, or having a friend nearby.’
While well-meaning, this advice ignores the fact that many of these meetings are, by design, secret.
He heard Claire on the stairs and put down his phone. He doubted she wanted to be reminded of Henry Bryant.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘How are you? Did you sleep?’
‘Yes. Woke up a while ago.’
‘I slept like a log. I was exhausted.’
‘I’m not surprised.’
‘I feel much better with Carl and Kevin outside.’ Claire kissed him on the forehead; he stroked the small of her back. ‘If you want to go out for a walk, or a run, it’s fine by me.’
Getting out sounded great, but he didn’t want to seem too keen. ‘I don’t want to leave you,’ he said.
‘I’ll be all right. We need to try and move on.’
‘I guess,’ Alfie said. ‘Maybe I’ll go to the office. Check in on a few things. You’re sure you�
�re OK?’
‘Yes. I’m fine. You go.’
ii
Carl and Kevin were sitting in a grey van parked outside the house. Alfie tapped on the passenger side window.
‘All right, mate,’ Carl said. ‘Everything OK?’
Alfie could sense the contempt the security guard had for him, could see in the mocking over-familiarity that he thought Alfie was a pathetic office-bound excuse of a man who couldn’t protect his own home. Carl – and Kevin, no doubt – would have waited in the dark for Bryant and taken care of it themselves. He imagined them talking about him, laughing at his weakness.
Fine by him. It was what he wanted them to think. It was what he wanted everyone to think. He had realized years ago that being unthreatening and anonymous was the best disguise there was. It had kept him under the radar; no one thought him capable of any kind of bad behaviour, so he was never a suspect.
But they were wrong. Look at what he had done: he had created Henry Bryant, used him to get what he wanted, and, when the time came, he had killed Pippa with his bare hands.
He doubted Carl and Kevin could have done that, for all their masculine swagger. He doubted they would have driven Pippa to the side of a wood and strangled her to death without a second’s hesitation.
‘Yes, all fine,’ he said. ‘I’m heading into the office for the afternoon. I wanted to let you know.’
Carl nodded. ‘Got it, mate,’ he said. ‘We’ll keep an eye on the place.’
He wound the window up and Alfie set off towards the Tube station. He knew what they’d be saying – he could almost hear the words – Let’s pop in there and give her one, now he’s gone. Bet she’s a good screw, rich birds always are.
Like they knew anything about rich birds. This was the closest they’d get to the likes of Claire.
Perhaps he’d kill them at some point. Find out who they were and where they lived and set fire to their houses. Fire was a good way to do it; all the evidence got incinerated. The cops wouldn’t suspect Alfie; he had no motive. After all, Carl and Kevin were taking care of him, so why would he wish them harm?
