Play Dead (29 page)

‘
W
hat the hell
are you doing?’ Kim cried, reaching for the radio.

Realisation hit her a few seconds too late and at the exact second the first raindrop landed on her arm.

For a moment everything else was forgotten. Her colleagues, the operation, even the victims, as her brain rearranged the facts that had been fragmented around her mind.

‘Jesus, you’re in it together. That’s why he brings them here. You help him get rid of the bodies but why…’

Kim’s words trailed away as more pieces moved into place. The magnet in her mind was sucking all the pieces together, and a clear picture began to form. How could she have missed the connection between the two of them?

‘You met Graham at Bromley, didn’t you?’ Kim asked, doing the sums in her head. They would have been there at the same time, and Kim knew full well that damaged souls managed to find each other.

Two more drops landed on her arm and the first thunderbolt sounded in the distance.

‘Yes and I’ll never forget it. Stupid group discussion where we were supposed to talk about our feelings and heal. Repeating our fear was supposed to help us forget it? That was supposed to make us whole?’ Catherine spat.

Kim was unable to move. A lightning strike revealed the twisted, bitter face of the woman before her. Catherine Evans had perfected the art of wearing the mask that suited the occasion, but right here was the real woman. The real Catherine, who had been unable to move on from her childhood ordeal.

‘There was one person there who had the courage to speak the truth. His truth…
our
truth. He spoke openly about wanting to hurt the people that had hurt him. He made no secret of the fact that he wasn’t interested in forgiveness or therapy. He wanted revenge, and that was the only thing that would help.

‘Yes, we had one thing in common that bound us together. Our need for revenge. We both knew that we would never live full lives until our tormentors were punished.’

‘But how could you help him, Catherine?’ Kim asked, stunned. ‘You know the fear of being abducted, of being taken from the safety of your life. Look what it’s done to you –and yet you’ve helped someone else do exactly the same thing.’

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Catherine raged. ‘It’s different. I was a child and…’

‘But even as an adult you were terrified when you thought they might come and get you again. I was there, Catherine. I saw you in that box. I helped you out. That fear was real.’

‘Of course it was real. It’s always been real. While those bastards were still alive, I lived with the fear,’ Catherine said, as a bolt of lightning thundered past them.

‘You think that’s any less real to the women Graham has taken? And you’ve helped him. I don’t understand, Catherine. Two women are dead because of the two of you. How could you do that?’

There was no hesitation in Catherine’s voice and no remorse as the lightning lit up her expression.

‘Because we had an agreement. That we would help each other.’

‘But your captors were never…’ Her sentence was left dangling between them as Kim remembered one crucial detail of their conversation at Catherine’s house. The woman had forgotten herself in her fear and admitted to being terrified that ‘he’ was coming back. There had been two tormentors involved in her capture and abuse – but her use of the singular showed that she had known that one of them was already dead.

‘It was Ivor and Larry, wasn’t it? They were the two that molested you. The change in you is nothing to do with being able to carry on working at Westerley. It’s because your second abuser is now dead. He was released from prison two weeks ago. You’ve both been waiting all this time?’

‘Those two bastards took my life,’ she spat. ‘You can’t even imagine what those fucking pigs did to me. I smell their foul, toxic breath every night; hear their perverted whispers in my ear. One after the other after the other, passed around like the bottles of whisky they shared.

‘They took my childhood and my family. I could never go back to my life. By the time I was able to leave Bromley I didn’t even know my parents, and they didn’t know me.

‘The terror they caused took over my body like a cancer. It was everywhere. There was never a choice, Inspector. For me to live, they had to die.’

Kim heard the raw emotion in her voice. Despite what Catherine believed, she would never be free of those men.

The raindrops were becoming more frequent now. The ground around them offered a cloying smell as the rain hit the dry earth.

‘My life begins now, Inspector. Tonight I can live again.’

‘Graham killed them, didn’t he?’ Kim asked, the realisation hitting her. ‘That was the deal. You would help each other and that’s how he helped you?’

Kim knew she couldn’t call out. Any sound from her and Graham would be gone and Tracy with him. Without the link to Westerley she would never find him again. He was like a cat bringing home a mauled mouse to its owner. Without the tie to Catherine she had nothing.

Kim was struck by a sudden thought as a raindrop landed on her cheek.

‘But if you’re partners why didn’t you warn him not to come?’

‘Ooops,’ she said.

‘Jesus, you want him caught, don’t you?’ Kim said, aghast at the woman’s duplicity. Graham had taken the lives of the men who had abducted and abused her, but now they were dead, Catherine wanted him gone. His purpose was complete and only two people knew the truth about her involvement with Graham.

With Graham safely caught and behind bars, that left only one person.

Kim.

The icy coldness of the woman before her chilled Kim to the bone.

Suddenly the radio hit Kim in the left temple. She tried to stay upright but she stumbled to the side.

It was the only advantage Catherine needed to push her to the ground.

Kim kicked out as Catherine threw her onto her stomach. Within seconds, her hands were tied behind her back. She kicked out again, but Catherine avoided her feet easily.

Catherine dragged her around by the hair, and she felt the plastic bouquet wrapper crunch beneath her back. The brittle stems splintered beneath and cut into her exposed skin. The thorns pricked at her skin. The grass was damp against her flesh.

Kim bucked against the tree, but with her hands tied she couldn’t get very far. The wood of the tree grazed the back of her hand.

‘You know you’re not going to tie every loose end up neatly, don’t you?’ Kim asked, playing for time as an idea began to form. She moved the plastic away from her behind and could feel the stems of the flowers beneath her.

Kim pulled her hands as far apart as she could and started to move her joined wrists up and down against the bark. The gnarly old tree might shred her skin in the process, but she couldn’t wait for help to arrive.

‘By my reckoning we have at least twelve minutes until the first check call, and it’s not going to take long to arrange your little accident.’

Kim’s blood ran cold at the absence of emotion attached to the words. If Catherine could arrange a fatal accident and then use the radio to call for help, Graham would be caught and all her loose ends would be neatly tied up.

Catherine’s voice was calm and measured. ‘I suspect you’re going to fall in with Jack or Vera and break your neck when you fall. If not, Graham always carries a knife.’

The coolness of her speech filled Kim with dread. Her death was nothing more than a means to an end. A way for Catherine to facilitate moving on with the rest of her life – and she couldn’t do that with Kim knowing the truth about her.

Kim heard a long sigh come from Catherine.

‘Thank goodness. He’s almost here.’

Kim knew if her hands were still bound by the time Graham reached them, she was dead.

She shook the wet fringe from her eyes and began to rub her wrists faster against the bark.

T
racy felt
herself being bounced around in the back of the van.

Minutes ago the ride had quietened, and the van had slowed down. The tyres were hitting bumps in the road, but she was no longer being launched around. The movement was rocking her to and fro.

The thought of sleep was tempting. In her haze, there was the possibility she would wake up not in this nightmare.

But she knew she couldn’t sleep. Perhaps Jemima had slept. Tracy’s mind was clearer than earlier, but her body still felt deadened.

She vaguely remembered stumbling down from the high chair and not having the strength to get back up. He had helped her to her feet and guided her into the van.

And she’d been grateful for his help. A rage like adrenaline shot around her body. Fucking grateful to the man who had abducted her and was now going to kill her.

The very notion evicted any thought of sleep from her mind. These could be the last few minutes of her life. Tracy was determined that if she was going to go it wouldn’t be without a fight.

She had to be ready for any opportunity, ready to do what she could. If nothing else, she was not going to go quietly. Damn it, she had fought her whole bloody life. There had been moments where death had seemed favourable to life, but she had fought the feelings one moment at a time, convincing herself that eventually things would get better.

She had fought the crucifying demons of self-doubt that had never left her and focussed on her dream of journalism, determined that she would not be ruled by her past.

No, Tracy resolved, she had not fought every inch of her life to be snuffed out by some psycho loser now.

The bravado stayed with her for a whole thirty seconds. Right until the car came to a halt.

K
im knew
the wire was weakening against the gnarly bark.

She had slashed the skin at her wrists in the process, but she could feel the wire beginning to give. Another few seconds and she’d have her hands free.

But she didn’t have a few seconds left, as Catherine yanked her to her feet.

Her left foot slipped on the mud as a clap of thunder sounded overhead. The raindrops were still slow but were much bigger. Round, heavy spots were landing all over her.

In her effort to keep Kim upright Catherine could no longer hold the torch. It tumbled from her hand.

Kim launched herself from the grip and threw herself to the ground. The torch would at least offer her some kind of weapon.

She landed on top of the torch, which dug into her breastbone. Catherine kicked her in the ribs. She coughed but stayed where she was. She would not give up the torch easily.

With her body obscuring the light she had been plunged into total darkness. The damp grass found every inch of her skin through the thin T-shirt. A brittle flower stem dug into her hip and her wrists were on fire, but she could not give up the torch.

A streak of lightning tore across the sky giving them both a clear view of each other. Catherine used the vision to land another kick, which caught her left breast.

Kim groaned out loud as the pain travelled around her torso.

‘Give it up, Inspector,’ Catherine hissed.

Not on your fucking life,
Kim thought.

She frantically strained her shoulders pulling at the weakened wire. It was her only chance to stay alive.

The torch was now lodged in her stomach, her arms still tied behind her and her neck craned back away from the sopping mud.

Another kick – this time to her hip. The pain shot straight to her brain and then reverberated back. She was losing track of the pain sites around her body, but she couldn’t think about that now. If she couldn’t get her hands free she was going to die.

She pulled again at the ties. She felt Catherine’s hand on her hip. Fuck, she was being rolled over onto her back.

As she turned she felt the ground disappear. There was nothing beneath her legs and nothing beneath her shoulders.

She tried to visualise it in the light of her memory. Damn it, she’d been rolled onto the bridge between the two graves. Beneath her legs was rotting Vera and beneath her shoulders was rotting Jack.

If Catherine managed to turn her around she’d be heading straight into the sunken grave to join them.

She pulled frantically on the ties as she sensed Catherine bending down towards her. She shuffled away in the darkness, careful not to turn. As long as her back remained on the bridge she was safe.

She felt her feet being lifted from the ground. A strong grip around her ankles.

‘What the hell…?’ Kim cried, but her voice was lost in the deafening thunder roar.

With her arms tied, she couldn’t stop what was happening and she tried to kick out her feet but they grasped firmly. Catherine had a strong hold on her ankles and was using her body like a lever to swivel her around. She felt herself being turned in a clockwise direction.

She had to pull her hands apart. It was the only way she could live.

It was coming. She knew it was coming.

She could feel the sweat mixed with the raindrops travelling down from her hairline. Catherine was using her legs like a wheelbarrow handle to turn her around.

Two more turns and she’d be lying lengthways on the bridge between the two graves and then one good kick would leave her on top of one of the corpses.

The wire would not snap.

Catherine pushed on her feet one more time and Kim realised that the woman needed the rigidity of Kim’s limbs to help her make the turn. The struggling and fighting was helping Catherine to turn her to the exact place she wanted. While she was thrashing around fighting Catherine off she could use the momentum of the movement to manoeuvre her body.

The lightning struck right behind Catherine as Kim stilled her body and bent her knees. The unexpected folding of the limbs caused Catherine to stumble into her. For a brief second, Catherine’s weight was resting on Kim’s folded, limp legs.

She focussed her energy and shot her legs straight back out, catapulting Catherine backwards, giving her a second to try the wire one more time.

‘You fucking stupid bitch,’ Catherine hissed.

Kim worked frantically to weaken the wire. Catherine was disabled for only a couple of seconds. With her hands still tied behind her back, Kim remained the one at a disadvantage.

She pulled frantically at the wire behind her back. Her wrists burned from the hundreds of wire cuts that were deepening with every movement. The scars from a recent knife wound on a kidnapping case were throbbing beneath the pressure.

The first thrust appeared to have no effect on the wire at all.

Her shoulders throbbed from the effort of trying to separate her hands.

On the second burst, it came free, and her arms exploded away from her.

Kim pounced on Catherine’s back and wrapped the string around her neck. Catherine’s hands reached up to try to hook her fingers underneath, but Kim pulled on it hard as she slid down the back of Catherine’s torso.

Catherine’s additional inch or two drew Kim up onto her tiptoes. The woman tried to writhe from her grip, but Kim pulled even harder, hearing a soft choking emerging from her throat.

She dragged Catherine two steps back so that the torch on the ground would illuminate the immediate area.

The blood dripped from the score of marks on her wrist where the cuts criss-crossed and blended with each other. For a second, Kim stared at her own wrist.

It took only a moment for the pieces to fall into place and by the time Kim felt the tap on her shoulder she knew who Graham Studwick really was.