(2011) The Gift of Death (9 page)

‘
You found that a little dry? Sorry to hear that sir. Let me give you a glass of water.’

He moved closer over Phil’s mouth, coughed and then spat a ball of phlegm into the hole.

‘
I hope that helps a little,’ he said. ‘Yes? Well, just perfect. Now, for the next course. What do we have here?’

He fished out a few of the different coloured pills – most probably different combinations of amphetamine, ketamine, Viagra, speed, ecstasy and LSD – and dropped them into Phil’s mouth. He placed his hand over his face to make sure he swallowed all the tablets.

‘
Mmm, tasty right?’ he said. ‘You haven’t any room for desert? Shame on you. After I’ve gone to all this trouble. What would your momma say, Phil. Have you forgotten your manners? You can squeeze in a little? That’s just perfect. Now comes the piece de la resistance.’

He took hold of the blue pills Phil had offered him earlier, the ones he had warned him about. No more than two, he had said. He tipped six into the palm of his hand and then fed them to Phil one by one.

He watched as Phil’s thin limbs started to twitch, the jut of his elbow meeting the join of his knee in an ungainly dance. His lips seemed to disappear into his skull, his gums and teeth an awful death mask. His chest rose and fell like that of a starved dog left to die in the desert heat.

He gathered together his things slowly and efficiently, checking not to leave anything behind. It would only be a matter of minutes before Phil died, most probably, he thought, from multiple organ failure and respiratory arrest. It would not be a particularly pleasant death, but neither were those of Yelena and Duane and a hundred other kids like them. At the door he turned and saw Phil for the last time.

‘
There are things that the Lord hates,’ he said to himself. ‘A proud look, a lying tongue and hands that shed innocent blood.’

9

Kate had once felt at home here, but now it seemed like the house of a stranger. She watched Josh fixing drinks in the large, open-plan kitchen, remembering how she had often stood at the stove making risotto, the feel of his arms around her, the musky smell of him mixing with the aroma of the olive oil, onions, garlic and white wine. The possessions that she had once scattered around the loft had disappeared, all traces of her – shoes, clothes, scarves, books, sketch pads, camera film – gone.

Soon after that awful meal when he had first told her about Jules she had driven downtown with a couple of plastic crates and had proceeded to pack up her life. Josh had wanted her to stop, to talk, but what had been the point. On that glorious summer day she had had driven away up Grand Street, past the blindingly bright Disney Concert Hall, with tears smarting in her eyes.

And now – now it was clear that another woman shared Josh’s home. In the bathroom there was a collection of expensive beauty products, and she had noticed that, in the kitchen, there was a selection of upscale foodstuffs: truffle-scented oil, marinated sunblush tomatoes, dried shitake mushrooms, raspberry-infused vinegar. She imagined Jules creating something exquisite for Josh – a slice of yellow fin tuna on a bed of steamed greens or red and white peppercorn-encrusted steak with blackcurrant jus – and felt the nausea rise inside her. It wasn’t as if she still loved him, she said to herself, it was probably just the first signs of the pregnancy. That’s why she was here. She had to tell him, but how?

‘
Are you sure you don’t want a dash of vodka with it?’ shouted Josh from the kitchen.

‘
No, tonic, straight up, is just fine,’ said Kate.

‘
It’s not like you,’ said Josh, coming over with the drinks. ‘Are you feeling alright?’

‘
Yeah, fine.’

‘
Heavy night?’

‘
No – well – I haven’t been sleeping that great, to be honest.’

‘
What since –‘

‘
Yeah, and also –‘

‘
I know what you mean,’ he said, swigging beer from a bottle and sitting down. ‘I’ve only had two hours all this week. First of all the discovery of the Gable kid. Then the murder of Cutler. And last night –‘

‘
Josh –‘

‘
We got a call from –‘

Now was the time. She couldn’t hesitate any longer. ‘Josh. Listen. I’ve got something I need to tell you.’

‘
What?’

Then she found she couldn’t say it.

‘
What is it? Kate?’

She took a deep breath.

‘
I’m pregnant.’

Josh looked at her with incomprehension, as if she had suddenly started speaking in a foreign language.

‘
What do you mean?’

‘
I’m pregnant, Josh.’

‘
How? When?’

‘
From that last session. At the clinic. So I guess, I’m around –‘

‘
Are you sure?’

‘
Of course, I’m sure. I did a test as soon as I suspected and then had Dr Cruger at the clinic confirm it.’

‘
When did you find out?’

‘
I did the test that morning. Soon after I found the baby.’

‘
What
?’

He stood up and walked around the loft, a creature confined in a cage.

‘
I know, I know, and I’m sorry, but –‘

She watched him as he tried to process the information.

‘
I just don’t get it,’ he said, his face reddening.

She braced herself for his angry words, his accusations. After all, didn’t he have just the same right to know as her?

‘
Gleason,’ he spat out, punching the table with his fist. ‘It’s the only thing that connects you and Cassie Veringer together.’

‘
I see,’ said Kate, shocked and disappointed that his anger was not directed towards her. Did he really feel so little for her?

‘
But you said Gleason was dead.’

‘
He is.’

‘
It could be just some freak, some weirdo, who has read about the Gleason case.’

‘
Could be, but there could be some link that has been passed over. Or something that’s now acting as a catalyst. That newspaper piece or -. Jesus, Kate. Fuck. If we’d only known about your condition earlier on. We might at least have been able to warn Cassie. Taken her to a safe house or something.’

Kate felt shame spreading through her. And her baby –
his
baby – was nothing more than a ‘condition’ now.

‘
But she’s fine, right?’

‘
Yeah, but that’s not the issue.’

‘
So what happens now?’

‘
I think we have to assume the worst. That there is some psychopath out there – maybe an ex-con who met Gleason in prison - trying to act out some sick game. Did Gleason have any close relatives who are still alive?’

Kate thought for a moment. ‘As far as I can remember, he had two kids, but only one is still alive - Roberta, a nurse at Cedars-Sinai. The son, his first child, died three or four years ago.’

‘
And what about his wife?’

‘
Mary died giving birth to Roberta in the Seventies, I think.’

‘
And Gleason called her after himself. Hmm, nice touch.’

‘
So what’s the next step?’

‘
We set up protection for you and Cassie and, in the meantime, see if we can find anything that links any of the fuckers out there with Gleason.’

‘
Okay.’

‘
Fine. I’ll ring Peterson now. We may need you to give another statement in the light of – of the new information.’

She felt his formal words and the cold tone of his voice eating into her heart. She couldn’t bear it a moment longer. She was near to tears, but just as she felt one begin to form she turned her back on him and grabbed her bag.

‘
Okay,’ she said again, unable to say anything else.

‘
You’d better wait here until a car arrives.’

He walked away and left her sitting here. She was not going to cry, she told herself. She wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. If this is how he wanted to play it, that was fine by her. She wouldn’t want a child of hers to know a man such as him. It was his loss, not hers. As she waited she called her mom and told her not to worry but that a squad car would be following her home. Just a precaution, she said. Nothing serious.

Josh returned twenty minutes later to tell her that a car was ready and waiting outside. Peterson knew all about the situation and had arranged for a couple of men to follow Cassie as well.

‘
So everything is under control,’ he said.

Apart from the obvious, thought Kate. She swallowed the dangerous mix of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

‘
We’ll be in touch,’ he said, looking down at the floor. ‘Also, best if you don’t say anything about what has happened. We don’t want it to leak out. Okay?’

Kate nodded and turned away from him without saying goodbye.

10

Kate felt guilty as she pulled up to Cassie’s Venice Beach apartment. She thought of the amount of times Cassie had invited her over, the occasions when she had suggested meeting for a drink or something to eat, the unanswered calls, the unreturned messages.

Superficially at least, the two women had become friendly during the Gleason investigation. Kate admired her strength of spirit, her ability to fight back against all the odds. She liked her sense of humour and her ability to laugh at herself. She respected her for the work she did with the charity and the selflessness with which she dedicated herself to her cause. So why had she resisted Cassie’s invitations? Why, just as Cassie reached out to her to offer her the hand of friendship, had she refused to take it? She had maintained it was because her job was all consuming. She also had to retain a professional distance. She couldn’t afford to let herself be ruled by an emotional attachment with someone she had met through work; it was against all the regulations. All this was true, but now she had to concede that there had been something else at play, something she was not proud to admit to herself. If she was being honest she had to acknowledge that she had been worried that the blind woman might become something of a burden. She knew that Cassie had an independent life – an apartment of her own, a job – and a robust mind, but she had been fearful of the way Gleason’s violent attack could affect her in the future. Cassie might well be fine, but Kate hadn’t wanted to run the risk. After all, she encountered enough misery and pain in the course of her job as it was without having to volunteer to take on any more. And so, rightly or wrongly, she had stepped away.

And what about now? How had the delivery of that sinister package affected her? She was afraid of what she might find.

She told Naylor, one of the cops assigned to protect her, that her meeting in the apartment block would take thirty minutes or so. Naylor radioed to the cop sitting in the car on the opposite side of the street, who then rang up to Cassie to inform her she had a visitor, Kate Cramer. A moment later, she was buzzed in.

She chose the stairs over the elevator and walked up to the third floor, feeling anxious. How would she receive her? Earlier, on the phone, Cassie had been a little cool with her. And who could blame her? But both women knew they had to talk. She pressed the bell and waited. A moment later the door opened. Cassie’s face was still the same – she had pale, unlined skin, a pert nose, and a rosebud mouth – but she had changed her hair since the last time Kate had seen her. Her glossy black bob had been replaced by a short, slicked-back style.

‘
Hello, Kate,’ she said. ‘Come on in.’ Her voice was cold, frosty.

She stepped inside the apartment and followed Cassie through into the lounge.

‘
Would you like a drink? Coffee? Water?’

‘
No, I’m fine, thanks,’ she said.

Tension seemed to pollute the air, and then both women started talking at once.

‘
Sorry I –‘ said Kate

‘
Look –‘ said Cassie.

They both started laughing, relieved that the uncomfortable silence had been broken.