HE WILL KILL YOU an absolutely gripping crime thriller with a massive twist

by Charlie Gallagher

  She picked up the memory card. It was a standard size and she had a device that transferred the images straight from the card onto her computer. The instant she slotted it in, her screen came up with a prompt asking if she wanted to view the files or print them. She selected the print option. The printer at the end of the row of desks clunked to life.

  Maddie wanted to see Grace soon. She would tell her that she was there to help and that she was still going to need it. She should read the diary first. She owed Grace that, to be able to understand fully what she had been through.

  She turned the page. The pain and horror dripped from even the first words.

  * * *

  Grace cussed under her breath. She had flinched at a sudden sound, glass bottles being tipped from a bin into a lorry. She knew that was what it was; she had passed the lorry on the way in. Flinching meant tensing her sore muscles and this caused her pain. But she couldn’t help it. She hadn’t been able to relax since she had left the house yesterday. She had gone to a hotel. It was cosy enough: the double bed and the bath were nice; she was alone and she felt safe; she thought that was all that would matter. But she was wrong. She still had the constant feeling of anxiety and it seemed to be worsening as she had come to realise the enormity of what she had done. She tried to ignore it. The first night was always going to be tough, but she was through that now. Things should start getting easier.

  She was stood at the communal entrance to a solid, flat-fronted block of flats. The entrance was a brown, wooden door with glass slats. This close she could see the wire running through the glass to toughen it and the metal lip round the outside that beefed up the door’s strength overall. Even the buzzer system was just a row of numbered buttons with no hint at the identity of the occupants behind them. Grace knew the measures were necessary. The building was assigned as a women’s refuge. From the outside it was nondescript, no one outside would know its function — at least no one should know. That was its most effective security measure. Finally the speaker crackled.

  ‘Hello?’ The voice sounded unsure. Grace stepped a little to the left and ducked her head so she was looking straight into the camera.

  ‘Sally! It’s Grace!’ There was a pause. For a second Grace held her breath. Months of planning had brought them to this point, but maybe the ramifications had set in. Once she moved through that door and stepped over the threshold, Sally was part of it. She had been from the start in truth, but unlocking that door was acceptance of it. Grace stared at the camera, silently whispering for the door to be opened.

  The door made a clacking sound followed by a buzzing. Again Grace flinched, as if the noise was something of which to be fearful. She tugged hurriedly at the door and moved inside from out of the cold. She continued up two flights of stairs until she got to another door — brown wood with glass inserts — and another buzzer system to get past. She could see a small landing beyond it. A woman walked across it, she pushed the door open. Grace stood still. Whenever she had considered this moment she could never be sure quite how it would play out.

  ‘Sally?’ Grace asked, tentatively.

  The woman’s face broke into a beaming smile. She stepped forward and wrapped Grace in a tight hug. Despite her relief it was agony and Grace couldn’t help but wince.

  ‘Oh, shit! Did I hurt you?’

  ‘No, it’s okay. It’s just my arm.’

  ‘Of course. Sorry, I forgot. Let me see . . .’ Sally’s eyes searched for the damaged limb. It was hidden away under a jumper and a coat. ‘Oh, don’t worry about it — here, come in!’ She stepped back and pointed towards a front door that was hanging open. It had the number 6 on the outside, matching Sally’s instructions. Grace stepped in. It was a small flat but neat and tidy. The kitchen was to the left. She could see a living room to the right side with a long window. They were both in the hallway. Sally seemed to be unsure of what to say, Grace could guess what it might be. She was right.

  ‘Have you done what we discussed?’

  ‘Yes. Everything.’

  ‘The diary and the memory card?’

  ‘It’s gone. I sent it yesterday. I put in one last entry, something she needed to know and then I sent it. The memory card, too, with all the pictures on it. They were in date order. Maddie Ives is the detective I’ve been speaking to. She’s a sergeant. She might even have it all by now.’

  ‘Well done, Grace! You did good, girl!’

  ‘The next bit will be hard. When I go and see Maddie. When I have to sit in front of her and tell her I don’t know anything about Craig . . . You were right, I need some time to get my head straight before I talk to anyone. I think about what I did . . .’ Grace started to break down and sucked in a rushed breath. Sally grabbed her by the shoulders and stared intently into her eyes.

  ‘You did what you had to do to get safe. There was no other way. Trust me! Look at me, here! You don’t want to be living this life — in someone else’s flat, never feeling truly safe, and only here until someone else needs it more. I don’t go out, Grace. I can’t work or have something simple like a Facebook account in my own name, with my own friends! I’m tired of being in fear. We shouldn’t have to fear anything anymore.’

  Grace felt tears on her cheeks. She couldn’t remember the last time she had cried openly. It felt good to let go. She felt Sally hug her tight, while mindful of her damaged arm.

  Grace got herself together — enough for her vision to clear. Sally was chewing on her lip; she looked concerned but her face broke into a reassuring smile. ‘Was the hotel okay?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you for sorting that. It was so nice, I had a bath and a big bed!’ Grace started to remove her jacket and gasped as she did so.

  ‘You need a hospital with an A&E. There’s one ten minutes from here by cab. You need to get that arm sorted. You’ll feel better — stronger even, if you’re not in constant pain. And that works too. You left him. You ran away to a hotel, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Then you went to the hospital and got sorted in a town as far away from him as you could get. That explains the delay in going to the police—’

  ‘I can’t!’ Grace surprised herself with the ferocity in her voice. ‘Not just yet. The doctors and nurses at those places . . . they’re like the police. It’s an interrogation. I need to be sharper.’

  Sally took hold of her again. She was gentle. Grace’s head was turned slightly to one side. This was the first time they had met in person. They had talked via a messaging app on Grace’s hidden phone, and that was it. Sally had tracked her down on social media — early on, when she was still allowed to access it. Sally was the only person who really understood what it was like to live with somebody like Craig Dolton, who knew the constant fear. Grace didn’t know if she had ever felt closer to someone than in that moment. She was struggling to speak. Sally spoke instead.

  ‘Don’t worry. We have plenty of time, okay? Viktor will be here with the money later. By this time tomorrow you will have enough to start all over again. Your new life has already started, even if it doesn’t feel like it yet. For both of us, too.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I just need to get him out of my head. When I called that number — the number you gave me — the phone just died. I didn’t know what to expect, but not that. I saw the news, Sally. I know he was in that car. They as good as said it, but I already knew. I can’t explain it. You told me the call might just arm it, that it would only go off when the car was moving but I knew it happened straight away, I just knew. When that phone cut off it was like he was so much a part of me that I felt him go. I just felt free. And now . . . now I don’t. I can’t explain it. I don’t know why.’

  ‘I know, Grace, I know exactly what you mean. You’ve lost everything over time . . . your life, your identity, your ability to make a simple choice. He took that all away. But he’s gone now. Maybe that feeling you have, maybe it is freedom — you just forgot what that feels like.’ Grace felt the grip tighten on her shoulders. She felt reassured. A little strong
er, perhaps. But she did need to go to a hospital. There were parts of her that were not going to be fixed by time and kindness. Sally was right: she needed to start looking after herself.

  Chapter 25

  When Maddie stood up she was in a daze. She hadn’t finished reading yet but she needed to break away. She had never read anything like it. Her head was shaking. The diary was still clasped in her hands. She dropped it on the table, as though the horror of it might have the ability to take on a physical form that could soak from the pages and be absorbed through her skin.

  ‘You okay, kid?’ Harry’s standard growl. He was stood, a dark figure in her peripheral vision. She didn’t acknowledge him at first. ‘Sorry,’ Harry said, ‘the kid thing . . . force of habit.’

  She took a moment. When she did raise her eyes to him he suddenly looked worried. He reached out with both his arms as if he was trying to steady her. ‘Jesus, Harry!’ Her voice was a coarse whisper. ‘I had no idea how bad . . .’

  ‘Are you okay? You look washed out.’

  ‘We need to go out.’

  ‘Okay. You want to sit and have a sip of water first, maybe? Some sweet tea?’

  ‘No.’ Maddie did feel a little light-headed. It lasted just a few steps then her walk became more determined. She felt her body flush with anger. She had scooped the diary up on her way — the pictures too, which had gathered in a stack in the printer tray. She heard Harry behind her on the stairs. He didn’t say anything more. Maddie got into the driver’s seat. She opened the diary and passed it over to Harry and started the engine. Harry took the hint and started reading. She pulled away.

  It was a twenty-minute drive to 17 Campbell Road, Hawkinge. Maddie didn’t speak. Suddenly it was as if she didn’t know how, as if there was nothing she could say. Harry made a few noises between turning the pages: a few sighs, a couple of tuts and some muttering under his breath. She pulled straight onto the drive. The door was still ajar. She knew a search team was due to go in there. Craig Dolton’s murder was being treated as a terrorist incident until they knew better. Counter Terrorism searches could take days and they hadn’t even started this one yet. It was a specialist job for a specialist team, of which there was only one available to the county and they were still in the Roundhill Tunnels, bagging up debris and photographing scorch patterns on the walls. Craig was deemed to be a random target of the same offender. His home was a belt-and-braces measure and not considered a priority. She walked straight up to the cold-looking, uniform officer sat on the doorstep who greeted her with a look of surprise. He stood up stiffly. He had to pull the snood down that was covering his mouth to speak.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said.

  ‘DS Ives and DI Blaker. We need two minutes in there is all.’

  He looked unsure. ‘Okay. I’ll need to put you down on the scene log, can I just take—’

  ‘Two minutes. We won’t touch anything, you have my word.’

  The officer hesitated but seemed to take the hint. ‘Well, okay then. I’ll start my watch!’ He chuckled nervously. Maddie was already stepping past him. She walked straight into the living room and made for the sofa at the end, opposite the window. She saw the duvet bunched up on the arm just as Grace had described she had concealed it when the police came round. Maddie stopped. She noted the stain on the floor under the other arm. The seat cushion had a darker stain, too, as if a puddle had been left unattended. She pulled the duvet off. The vice was revealed.

  ‘Oh, fuck!’ She took a step back, her hand rose to her mouth. ‘It’s real!’ Her voice was close to a squeal. ‘That piece of shit!’ She felt her veins flood with rage. Suddenly she wished more than anything that Craig Dolton was still alive, so she could find him and kill him all over again.

  Harry moved closer to the chair and leaned in to inspect it. Maddie turned away. Her eyes stopped on the window. She looked at the squared view of the world. In her diary, Grace had talked about watching car lights flickering past at night, about dreaming of being free, of being outside the house. Of this house.

  ‘I need to find her,’ Maddie said.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘All this . . . it was going on when I saw her.’

  ‘It was.’

  ‘I could have stopped it.’

  ‘You can only stop what you know to be happening. She chose not to tell you about it.’

  ‘I knew there was more. I told her I knew. I could have pushed her harder. I could have done more to let her know that I could make her safe, to make her trust me.’

  ‘She made her choices. And you’re the one she sent this to.’

  ‘I should have done more.’

  ‘Beat yourself up for mistakes you make, not the ones you don’t. We’ll have a look at where they are with finding her. See if there’s anything we can do.’

  ‘Fine then.’ Maddie turned away. ‘I’ll get the search team to make sure we get our own photos of that chair.’

  ‘They will anyway, Maddie,’ Harry called after her. ‘You know this changes the emphasis on her, right?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Maddie stopped her march back towards the front door.

  ‘From what I’ve read, no one could have hated that man more.’

  ‘You think she killed him! You think she’s capable of strapping a . . .’ Maddie ran out of steam. Her head dropped. Her mind was suddenly clouded with confusion. She couldn’t think straight; she couldn’t think of Grace as anything other than a terrified victim strapped into that . . . thing.

  ‘No. I don’t think she’s capable, but she disappeared on the day he went up. You know it’s a relevant line of enquiry.’

  Maddie didn’t say anything. It was best she didn’t react. She knew she was still full of anger; this wasn’t the time to talk about it. When she was calmer she might even agree. Grace would have to be spoken to, that would happen whether people knew how Craig had treated her or not.

  ‘So we head back. We find out where they are with finding her and see what’s left to do. I would rather be the next copper she sees. It’s going to be difficult enough without someone immediately demanding where she was at the time of his death. She needs to be handled right.’

  ‘She does. But we still need to ask those questions.’

  ‘I get that, Harry!’ Maddie snapped.

  ‘Of course you do. You’ve become quite the expert in nine months of investigations,’ he snapped back. Maddie watched Harry walk past her to the front door. She choked down her response and sucked in a breath. She took a moment to look around the room until she was back under control. She reminded herself she wasn’t angry with Harry and that he was probably right. And that pissed her off, too.

  Chapter 26

  The bus route dropped Grace around one hundred metres from the entrance to the hospital marked Accident and Emergency. The Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother Hospital, or QEQM as it was known, was Margate’s largest medical facility and was not somewhere she had been before. It was still instantly recognisable as an NHS building. It had the standard red brick with a solid, square design and a jumble of signs and directions in every colour. Foot traffic was heavy. Everyone seemed to be moving with their heads bent, their attention on whatever was playing through their headphones or smartphone screen held out in front of them.

  She walked past a group of smokers clumped around a low wall just off from the main door. Some hung off the railings of a sloped path that looked to be newly installed. Still no one looked up. She was thankful. She just wanted to blend in. She needed to get fixed, to get something for this pain, and then she needed to get back out of there. Sally had soothed her anxiety a little but it was steadily increasing since she had left the flat. She could barely remember the last time she had been out on her own. Craig never let her. She made it through the wide entrance doors into the open-plan foyer. The reception was directly in front, with the seated staff separated from the public by smeared glass. A man was leaning forward; he made eye contact with her and looked expectant.

&nbs
p; ‘Can I help?’ His voice was filtered through a speaker system that made it sound almost robotic. He was older, and much of his greying hair looked to be bursting from his nose. He pushed his glasses back with one finger. ‘Can I help?’ he said, again, his impatience clear.

  ‘Yes. I need to see a doctor. I think I’ve broken my arm.’ Grace wiped her forehead where a layer of sweat had formed and turned quickly cold.

  ‘Okay.’ His eyes fell to her arm. It was by her side and under a layer of clothing. ‘I need to take some details.’

  ‘I wrote it down,’ Grace cut in, thinking straight away that she needed to calm down. ‘I mean I wrote it all down to make it easier.’ She spoke slower and more deliberately. ‘I’m in a lot of pain.’ She slid a piece of paper towards him and flickered a reassuring smile. There was a thin gap under the glass. The receptionist snatched it up and eyed her again. She watched him work on his computer. It took a few minutes. She had written it down on the way over to limit the need for conversation. She was glad she had.

  ‘If you’d like to take a seat.’

  She thanked him. She wiped at her forehead again and ambled over to the row of plastic seats while looking around her. Nobody was paying her any attention. The seating area was large and the people were spread out. She dared to hope that she wouldn’t be there long.

  * * *

  Maddie made it back to her desk. She bent over her computer and fired it up. She couldn’t sit, even though she might be there a little while. There were a number of computer systems that might have information on the search for Grace and she would need to check them all. Harry had taken a message to go and see the chief inspector. He said he would come over when he was done. Maddie’s phone was ringing. It had been ringing the whole time she had been back at her desk. She clicked to load up the first system. It was taking its time. She looked away from her monitor to her phone’s screen. The ringing stopped. It was Front Counter. The phone displayed four missed calls from their number. She picked up her phone and returned the call. She intended to tell them that whatever it was could wait. It was picked up on the first ring.