Killing Cupid (34 page)

Emily was trembling, staring into the flames. ‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘Burn the evidence. There’s still a copy on your computer, though.’

‘I deleted it. While you were in the toilet.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, tapping the side of her head. ‘It’s all in here.’ She turned to Siobhan. ‘Enjoy him while you can.’

She walked out of the room and out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

‘This is too much,’ said Siobhan. ‘I need to sit down.’

I could see her looking at the ash on the carpet, a frown line creasing her brow. She looked so adorable.

She sat on the sofa and I stood in front of her, not knowing what to do.

‘What did she mean, “Enjoy him while you can?”’

‘She meant…’ But instead of explaining, I said, ‘I’m still in love with you.’

Siobhan looked into my eyes. I held her gaze. There were butterflies the size of crows going mental in my stomach. Behind me, I sensed the fire going out. But in front of me, Siobhan touched the sofa beside her and said in a soft voice, ‘Sit down.’

I did what she said. The room was silent except for the hum of electricity and the rustle of fabric as Siobhan reached out for me.

‘This whole situation,’ Siobhan whispered, ‘is completely fucked up. Isn’t it?’

‘More than you know,’ I said.

‘What’s Emily going to do?’

‘I don’t care.’

She took hold of my hand. Her skin was warm. Then she smiled and said, ‘I don’t think we’ve been introduced.’

‘I . . ?’ Then I looked into her eyes, at the way she was looking at me, and I got it. The way people who are meant to be together understand each other. This was going to be our fresh start. Just for this moment, we had no history. I said, ‘My name’s Alex. Nice to meet you.’

‘Nice to meet you too, Alex. I’m Siobhan.’

She kissed me. She tasted of ash and wine.

‘Siobhan. That’s a beautiful name.’

I kissed her.

‘Thank you.’

She unfastened the top button of my shirt and slid her hand across my collarbone.

‘Let’s go upstairs.’

She was even more beautiful than I imagined. I breathed her in, put my head against her silk skin and listened to the blood inside her body. I kissed her hair and felt the flutter of her eyelashes against my cheek. I kissed her mouth and smelled the wine that stained her lips. I put my mouth between her legs and she tasted even better than I’d dreamed. I slid inside her and she whispered, ‘Slowly.’

After we’d made love, we lay pressed together with a purring cat lying on top of the quilt by our feet. And we talked – for hours. I don’t have time to record everything we said. I don’t want to. But we both spoke without inhibition about the way we felt, about the future and what we wanted. Siobhan commented again upon the amazing fucked-upness of our situation, although we both avoided mentioning the less impressive parts of our unconventional courtship. This was our new beginning, after all.

I told her I loved her. I told her about Kathy and Elaine, terrified as I was telling it that she would pull away from me. But she just listened quietly, then said, ‘From now on, you have to make me a promise. No more lies. No more running away from the truth. No more keeping journals that need to be burned because they’re full of so many secrets.’

She was quiet for a moment. ‘Did you read my diary when you hid in here before?’

‘A bit of it.’

‘What did you read?’

I smiled in the candlelight. ‘Oh, something about wanting a man with a dick like a truncheon who’ll make you come three times in one night.’

She laughed. ‘So, are you going to give me what I want?’

‘Um – well, I don’t know about the truncheon bit – it’s more of a...’

‘Alex?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Shut up.’

At six o’clock the next morning the doorbell rang. I got up and looked out the front window. There was a police car parked by Siobhan’s front gate. Emily, I found out a little later, had called the police and told them that I had confessed to her that I’d murdered Kathy.

‘Oh shit.’ I beckoned Siobhan over to the window. ‘How far do you think I’ll get if I slip out the back door?’

She shook her head. ‘No more lies, remember, Alex. No more hiding. Just go and tell them the truth. I’m sure they’ll believe you.’

They believed me alright - like I believe in the tooth fairy. They questioned me for hours, and by the end of the day they’d found several people who’d seen me with Kathy that evening in the pub. I told them to go and talk to Elaine Meadows. And they did. But when they got there she wasn’t in the flat.

She was dead.

Her body was lying in exactly the same spot where Kathy’s body had been found.

‘She must have jumped,’ I told the police. ‘She must have decided that she wanted to be with Kathy. Two spirits together, living in that flat, so she could be with her all the time, not just at
obon.
’ The police loved that.

‘So you saw Elaine Meadows last night?’ said the detective in charge of the case.

‘Yes. I went to see her to…’ At which point I stopped talking and asked for a solicitor.

So here I am, in a cell, awaiting trial for the murders of Kathy Noonan and Elaine Meadows. Apparently, the case relies almost entirely on the testimony of Emily, whose anger with me seems to be all-consuming: this is her way of punishing me and keeping Siobhan and me apart. And I guess she really believes that I did it. Thinking back over what I wrote in the journal, I suppose it was pretty ambiguous.

The police also have forensic evidence that I was in the flat the night Elaine jumped, not that I’ve denied it. I feel slightly responsible for Elaine’s death – if I hadn’t gone round there and stirred up all those old feelings… although she might just have been waiting to find out the truth about what happened before she joined the love of her life in death. I wrote earlier that I’d sensed something strange – some weird vibe – and now I understand it: she had a death wish. She was just waiting to join Kathy – she’d
wanted
me to push her. I understand that now; that desperate desire to be with the one you love. Still, I would have appreciated it if she’d left a suicide note absolving me of all responsibility. How thoughtless of her.

There are only two positive things left in my life. One is that my publisher is even more excited than ever about my literary career. ‘Think of the publicity,’ said Pernilla, who also told me that she had let Emily go because ‘the poor girl is a wreck, and her efficiency has nosedived drastically.’

The other, of course, is Siobhan.

Siobhan, my angel, as I lie here at night, listening to my cellmate grunting as he jerks off in the other bunk, I think of you and that beautiful night we spent together. Even though my body is in a cage… Oh shit, here comes the warden. And I don’t think he’s big on romance. But listen, Siobhan, if this was a letter, I’d sign off with four kisses, and a heart with an arrow right through it – like the heart I watched Elaine etch into the condensation, just before I left her flat.

Epilogue

22nd April.

My darling Alex,

Reading between the lines, you sounded miserable in your last letter. How are you holding up? I want to hold you up, and never let you go. I promise I will do that for you, in whatever way I can, whatever happens.

I know I keep saying this, but you never seem convinced so I will say it again: the truth will out, darling. I’m sure that you won’t end up prison. Emily couldn’t possibly lie under oath. She’ll realize that she can’t punish you in that way: that she’s playing with your life. I’m sure she’ll come around. She’s just relishing her impression of a roaring mouse for now, that’s all. She’ll calm down.

I’m sorry that you ever met her. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been so blind, and so weird with you when you first said you loved me, none of this would have happened. I drove you into her arms, and I feel terrible about that.

Like I said the night before they took you away, I’ve always been slow on the uptake. I don’t know why. I either choose the wrong man (Phil being a prime example), or, in your case, can’t recognise a good thing when I see it. I mean, you bought me designer clothes, and I still turned you down! How mad is that? I can’t believe I fixated on the money part of it – I’m not tight, darling, I promise – from now on, what’s mine is yours (not that you’ll be rich, I warn you!), but I was just afraid. I was afraid of your intensity, and the effect it had on me when you looked at me that way.

It’s so funny – at dinner that night, my birthday, someone asked me what my ideal man would be like. It was only later that I realized I had given an accurate description of you, my love, both physically and mentally.
You
were what I wanted all along. I was just too overwhelmed by your devotion, and the way that it came like a bolt from the blue. Or maybe I felt that I didn’t deserve it – that’s always been a problem of mine; and, now that I think about it, probably the reason I’ve ended up with so many losers before. I’ve never allowed myself to truly love anybody, in case they left me.

And now here we are, apart! For who knows how long…. No, sorry, Alex, ignore that. I’m trying so hard to think positive, but every now and then I think ‘what if…’, and panic. I can’t bear the thought of you going to prison for years.

But you won’t. Like I said, Emily’s not evil. She knows you didn’t really do it, and she wouldn’t let that happen. Even though I know how true it is that hell hath no fury, etc, etc. And I wish she wouldn’t have said whatever it was that’s she’s clearly said to Natalie and Simon – they still put the phone down when I try to ring them. Natalie was quite nasty to me last time I tried, actually. I’m glad they wrote you a note; but it’s really not fair that they’re blaming me for all this! I’d do anything to get you out of there.

And no, in answer to your question, your mum didn’t ring me back either. I’m sorry. I think under the circumstances it was good of you to let her know what’s going on.

I’m going to change the subject now before I drag us both down. Guess what – I got a new job! Reading manuscripts for a hot new literary agent; an ex-editor called Mark Molesey. It’s very part time, which is perfect. I want flexible hours so that I will always be able to visit you, angel. And I’ve already sent him your stories and told him about your deal, obviously, and he’s keen to represent you for the novel that I know you’re going to write.

I’m so proud of your writing success. I was jealous at first, but that was before you were part of my life, and also when I thought that I still had ambitions to be a ‘faymuss awfor’. Reading all these manuscripts for Mark has made me realize that, actually, I am a good writer. And so are you. I’ve decided that I’m not going to do any more writing for a while though – just give myself a break from the pressure of it. I don’t want to write another novel until – or even unless – I get that deep, mad yearning for it. I’ve learned that you have to really want things in order to deserve them: want them and fight for them, like you did for me. I’m so incredibly touched that you did that for me, after I’d very nearly wrecked everything.

I’ll sign off now. There’s a man coming to clean the carpets, and I have to go and buy Biggles some flea powder – oh the excitement! Anyway, I’ll be visiting tomorrow, so this afternoon I’ll be baking my Victoria sponge with a file in. Maybe next time will be the time the guards let me through with it. I can’t wait to see you, angel. Every part of me is waiting for you, however long it takes, body and soul.

All my love,

Siobhan xxx

If you enjoyed KILLING CUPID you will love the second novel from Mark Edwards and Louise Voss:

CATCH YOUR DEATH

A secret conspiracy. A killer virus. A race to save the world.

Imagine if Dan Brown and Michael Crichton sat down together to write a fast-paced medical conspiracy thriller set in the English countryside, featuring evil scientists, stone-cold killers, a deadly virus and a beautiful but vulnerable Harvard professor.

That's CATCH YOUR DEATH, the new novel from Louise Voss and Mark Edwards, the writing team behind the Amazon Top 50 thriller KILLING CUPID.

Esteemed virologist Kate Maddox thought she was escaping to a new life. But before she can face the future she must deal with the ghosts of the past.

20 years ago, Kate was a volunteer at a research unit in the English countryside where scientists experimented to find a cure for the common cold.  That summer, Kate fell in love with a handsome young doctor, Stephen. But her stay at the unit ended in Stephen's tragic death and Kate fled to Boston and a new life at Harvard.

Now, Kate is back in England and on the run again – this time, from her cruel husband – and trying to find a fresh start for her and her young son.  But a chance encounter with Stephen’s twin brother, Paul, sets her on a terrifying path of discovery. What really happened at the Cold Research Unit two decades ago?

As Kate and Paul travel across England in search of the answers, they are unaware they are being hunted. Pursued by both her estranged husband and a psychopathic killer who has an unhealthy obsession with his quarry, Kate must fight to solve the puzzles of the past – uncovering a sickening betrayal and a truth she never dreamed possible.

CATCH YOUR DEATH is a fun, page-turning thriller that also asks serious questions about how much we can rely on the people we entrust with our lives.

AVAILABLE NOW on Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk - search Amazon for 'catch your death'