Read See How They Run Online

Authors: Tom Bale

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Crime, #Psychological, #Suspense

See How They Run (29 page)

BOOK: See How They Run
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Sixty-Three

T
he room
they’d chosen for Alice was the only one with both a door and a window that could be locked. Once she was secure, Michael used one of the other rooms to change into the overalls Nerys had found for him. He also allowed himself a little time to savour the image of Alice climbing into the shower.

Downstairs, his mother was a whirlwind of activity. She’d changed into old clothes and put on a plastic apron, fetched the waste bags and filled a bucket with hot water and bleach, made up a bottle of formula milk and was now feeding Evie while studying the chaos in the kitchen, planning the clean-up operation.

‘Did you find it?’

‘No. It’s not there.’

‘Bloody hell, Michael, we could be up shit creek without it.’

‘I know. But you’re the one who …’ He gestured at Renshaw’s body.

‘You heard him trying to blackmail me. I’m not taking that crap from anyone.’

‘No, but you could have waited till we knew where the evidence was.’

‘Easy to say now.’ She was seething, all the more irritable because she knew he was right. ‘Once he’d admitted to having something, I thought it would be easy to find. What has Alice told you?’

‘Not much. I think she’s holding back on us.’ He showed her the phone and she gasped.

‘Did Alice have that?’

‘She says Renshaw gave it to her. She claimed she couldn’t get a signal, but I’ve just checked the call log. She’s lying. There are lots of attempts to reach her, as well as three outgoing numbers. Two mobiles and a landline – area code 01273, which is Brighton, I believe.’

‘Family?’ Nerys mused. ‘But no 999 calls?’

Michael shook his head. ‘I suppose, if she didn’t feel threatened, she might have called to reassure people.’

‘Let’s hope so. What time were they?’

He checked the phone. ‘Between half eleven and twelve.’

‘Well, then. That’s two hours ago. If she’d summoned the cavalry I bet they’d be here by now.’

He nodded, partially reassured. ‘There’s still the issue of people knowing she’s here.’

‘But no proof,’ Nerys reminded him. ‘As long we make sure there’s no trace left of any of them, we just deny it.’

Michael pondered this as he watched the baby suck and gasp, suck and gasp. The bottle was almost empty.

‘So we’re … we’re going to do away with them?’

A shrug. ‘With any luck that’ll be Laird’s problem, not ours. But right now they’re a bargaining tool, both of them.’ She tipped the baby back to take the final dregs of milk. ‘You need to get your skates on and fetch the car. How long will it take?’

Michael groaned. In all the excitement he’d forgotten that the Range Rover was parked in Westcombe Wood.

‘Ten or fifteen minutes, if I run.’

‘You
have
to bloody run. While you’re doing that, I’ll make a start on the clean-up.’

A
lice listened obsessively
to every sound from below, but she could hear very little over the rain. Within a few minutes of Michael leaving her, she thought an outer door might have slammed. Then nothing.

Why wasn’t Evie howling? Alice was plagued with fear that she had been hurt. Just to contemplate it made her head swim; her breathing became shallow and rapid, her skin coated in a clammy cold sweat. She pulled on the cords and felt them give, a little, but not enough to free her hands.

She wondered if Harry was on his way here. Would he remember the address she’d shouted down the phone? Would he find the place in time?

It seemed like such a faint hope to cling on to – and one that she hardly deserved. She despised herself for dismissing Renshaw’s concerns about Nerys and her son.

Ugh. Even the thought of Michael made her shudder. The way he looked at her …

She heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. The door opened and Nerys came in, Evie held expertly in one arm.

Alice’s heart leapt. She started to speak but Nerys shushed her.

‘Don’t. She’s asleep.’

‘Is she all right?’

‘Starving,’ Nerys said, her voice scornful. ‘She drained a whole bottle. Nearly nine ounces.’

‘What?’

‘I gave her some SMA.’

‘You …’ Alice was staggered; for a moment the reality of her predicament forgotten. ‘You gave her formula milk?’

‘Yes, and it’s a good thing I did. The poor mite’s obviously underfed.’ She sniffed, disapprovingly, and indicated Alice’s breasts. ‘Must be poor quality milk in there.’

Alice couldn’t respond. In the scheme of things it was a trivial issue – what mattered was that Evie was alive and well – and yet it came as such a terrible affront to her own sense of motherhood, her capability.

‘At least let me cuddle her, please? I won’t try to escape.’

‘Course you will. Anyway, you don’t need to cuddle her. She’s perfectly all right on her own.’

Alice was helpless as Nerys settled Evie in the centre of the single bed. Then the woman turned and knelt down before her.

‘When you were out for your walk, Renshaw gave you something else, didn’t he? Along with the phone and the money.’

‘No, he didn’t.’

Nerys reached out and took hold of Alice’s left ear, pinching the lobe between her fingers, digging her nails into the soft cartilage. Alice winced.

‘He didn’t! I promise you!’

Nerys pinched tighter, and twisted, forcing Alice’s head down. ‘You’re lying.’

‘I’m not. I’m not.’ Alice sucked in a breath, unable to credit that such a small manoeuvre could be so agonising. She swallowed, and said, ‘There was … He had a tiny envelope, maybe with a USB stick or something.’

‘That’s it. Go on.’

‘He put it in his pocket yesterday morning, when we escaped from the house in Brighton. But I never saw it after that, I swear to you.’

‘On Evie’s life, you’d swear?’

‘Yes! I swear, I don’t know where it is.’

Nerys said nothing but she held on, twisting, for three, four, five long seconds, Alice writhing with the pain, desperate not to cry out and frighten Evie.

Then Nerys let go. ‘I don’t have a lot of time for torture – problem is, I’m too nice.’ She gave Alice a sickly smile. ‘But those men who were chasing Renshaw? They’ll get the answers out of you.’

M
ichael was still sweating profusely
when he parked the Range Rover on the drive. He’d worn a coat to conceal the overalls, fearing the sight of them might be a little incongruous while he was running across a field.

And run he had – till his lungs burned from the effort. He’d ignored all the cramps and twinges in his ankles and calves and knees; he’d run through the pain and eventually, in the middle of the wood, he felt his second wind; that blissful moment when the lungs seem to expand and glow with pleasure at the exertion. He might have just kept going, sprinted past the car and on over the countryside, his only goal to put distance between himself and the house, himself and the mess he was in …

But he couldn’t. Nerys needed him as never before. And after this – provided they could negotiate an exit route that kept them both out of jail – his mother would be in his debt forever.

She’d have to do anything he wanted.

Anything
.

By the time he got back she had worked wonders. The house reeked of detergent rather than blood. Renshaw’s body still lay in the kitchen, but now it was trussed up in three layers of thick plastic, held in place by loops of packing tape. It looked like a cartoon mummy: something from
Scooby Doo
.

Nerys was still mopping up, but the worst of the blood and gore had gone. The washing machine was running, hot suds sloshing against the porthole, erasing the blood from their clothes. She looked grimly satisfied with her progress.

‘Alice has admitted that Renshaw had evidence. A USB stick, she thinks it was. She says she didn’t see what he did with it.’

‘Do you believe her?’

Nerys wavered. ‘I’d love to think she was lying, but it’s unlikely.’ She did have some good news, of sorts. ‘I’ve spoken to Vickery again. They’re coming by helicopter, so I need to get my skates on.’

Michael frowned. ‘Did you warn him that Renshaw’s dead, and that we don’t—’

‘What do you take me for? I’m hardly going to show my hand this soon. Renshaw must have hidden it somewhere here, in the house. We’ve
got
to find it.’ She frowned as he started to move. ‘Where are you off to?’

‘To search for the mem—’

‘Not
now
. Good God!’ She gestured crossly at the body. ‘Go and reverse your car up to the front door. Close as you can get.’

Turning away, he was trying to figure out where in the house Renshaw might have secreted the memory stick, and only dimly registered the sound of an engine as he crossed the hall. He was reaching for the front door when he heard something more distinct: a car door slamming.

He made a detour to the nearest window. Peered out, and it felt like he had to clench every muscle in his body to prevent his insides from collapsing.

‘Mu-um!’ A long, half-broken syllable, part hiss, part croak.

‘What is it?’

‘Police. A fucking cop car.’

Sixty-Four

M
ichael had never
in his life felt even a tenth as scared as he was now. He stared at his mother, stricken by the knowledge that she too had finally met her match. There was no way out of this.

But Nerys displayed no panic. ‘Wait in the kitchen. Don’t make a sound.’

She removed the apron, balled it up and threw it on to the floor. Michael was moving past her when a thought occurred to him.

‘Alice, and the baby … ?’

‘She’s on the other side of the house.’ A deep breath. ‘Get a knife. Be ready to come if I call.’

They both heard movement outside, what sounded like a single figure approaching the door. Then the footsteps receded.

Puzzled, Nerys leaned into the dining room and peeped out. Her body relaxed. She gave Michael a smile and hissed: ‘Kitchen. Go!’

Michael obeyed, but he left the door open a couple of inches. He needed to hear this.

He needed to be prepared to attack. Or run away.

N
erys thought
she’d recognised the man peering around the side of the house. It meant she was calmer as she opened the front door, but it also left her somewhat conflicted.

Jack Fryer wasn’t a bad man. It would be a shame if she had to kill him.

He’d heard the door open and was ambling towards her, his expression untroubled. He was in his early fifties, thickset and balding with a big nose and an oddly impish demeanour for a middle-aged police officer.

‘All right, Jack?’

He smiled, and she saw relief in his eyes, which was rather strange.

‘Hello, Nerys. You know, I thought this was your place.’ He stopped on the lower step, hands on hips. ‘We had reports of an attempted burglary.’

‘Oh? When was this?’

‘Ten, fifteen minutes ago. Woman rang on a mobile saying she’d seen someone trying to break in.’

Nerys was able to look convincingly baffled. ‘And you’re sure it was my address?’

‘That’s what she said. I had my doubts, because her name didn’t ring a bell. And I reckon I know everyone who lives in these parts.’

Nerys tutted along with him, agreeing that it was most unlikely that someone had just been passing: Mercombe Lane was a dead end, after all.

‘Just odd that it was a woman. Prank callers, they’re normally males, or young girls.’ He snorted. ‘Who you been upsetting?’

‘Upsetting?’ Nerys flashed her eyes at him. ‘A charmer like me, Jack? I don’t upset anyone.’

‘No. Probably means I’ve been given the wrong address.’ He sighed. ‘Definitely all right round the back, are you?’

He shifted sideways, only half a pace, but it sent a bolt of alarm through her.

‘No one’s been in the garden. I was here all morning.’

Jack indicated the Range Rover. ‘New car, is it?’

‘Belongs to my son. I’m using it for a couple of days.’

‘I didn’t think you’d stolen it, Nerys.’ He grinned – but was he also peering at her a little more closely?

She concealed her nerves with a chuckle. ‘How’s your golf these days?’

‘Lousy – as always.’ He stared hard at her left hip. ‘Nerys, is that blood?’

She looked down and saw a pinkish smudge on the old slacks she’d worn for the clean-up. She rubbed at it, dismissively, with her wrist.

‘Just had to kill a lame hen,’ she explained.

‘Oh, sorry to hear that. I’ve got myself some new Marans. Slow to lay at first, but blimmin delicious when they do.’

He patted his belly and launched into an enthusiastic comparison of the various breeds he’d kept over the years. At one point, while she listened, Nerys made a soft spitting noise and removed an imaginary scrap of feather from her tongue. It was a gesture he would know well, and it reinforced her cover story at a subliminal level.

Finally he departed, almost but not quite brave enough to kiss her on the cheek. She promised to contact his wife, Joan, to arrange a game of badminton at the social club, and stood in the doorway until he was back in the car.

M
ichael stayed
in the kitchen for a few more seconds. Even as his brain accepted the reality of their close escape, his body still wanted to collapse from the shock.

‘Did you hear all that?’ Nerys asked.

‘Most of it.’ He joined her in the dining room. The patrol car had driven away.

‘Bit of a coincidence, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘A woman reporting a burglary.’

‘Alice, you mean?’

‘If Alice had access to a phone she wouldn’t muck around with a story about a break-in.’ She looked sombre. ‘No, I wonder if it was someone she spoke to earlier.’

‘But why?’

‘No idea. Testing the water in some way.’

‘You could have asked who’d reported it.’

‘I didn’t want to seem too interested.’ She fretted over that. ‘Perhaps I should have, but we can’t worry about that now. Let’s get that body shifted.’

‘Oh my God!’ Michael went pale. ‘A minute or two later and he’d have rolled up just as we were putting Renshaw in the boot.’

Nerys stared at him for a moment, looking as shocked as he was; then, abruptly, she started to laugh.

‘We can count ourselves lucky, then, can’t we?’

A
nother ten minutes
and Nerys was ready to go. Renshaw’s body, bent at the waist, had been placed in the boot. His duffle bag and rucksack were dumped in there as well, and all covered by an old picnic blanket.

Nerys put the bag of money in the front passenger footwell, then locked the Range Rover and returned to the kitchen for one final inspection.

‘The bedroom will need a deep clean, but I can do that tonight or tomorrow.’ She crouched down, peering beneath the kitchen cabinets. ‘While I’m gone, can you finish up in here?’

Michael blanched. ‘I thought you wanted me to search … ?’

‘You can do both, can’t you? It’s only a bit of cleaning. It won’t kill you.’

‘I know.’

‘Good. One more trip upstairs …’ Nerys paused, as if to choose her words carefully. ‘You know that Alice mustn’t come to any serious harm in my absence.’

‘Who says I’m going to hurt her?’

A look passed between them. Nerys pursed her lips, then said, ‘You’re welcome to question her some more. Don’t worry if you can’t get answers. I’m sure Laird’s men will see to that.’

‘Then why not take her with you?’

‘Do you want me to?’ She smiled, having called his bluff. ‘Like I say, I want her here for insurance. But be ready to bring her to Symonds Yat, if and when, okay?’ A glance at her watch. ‘I should be there by half three at the latest.’

‘Yes. Look, er, Mum—’ He felt a sudden loss of nerve, and it must have been evident in his expression. She pressed the tip of her finger against his lips.

‘Don’t worry, darling. We’re on the home straight now. Just find that dratted USB thing, will you? And by tonight we’ll be rich. We’ll be free.’

Michael nodded, but as he watched her climb the stairs, he thought:
I’m already rich
.

And until this morning I was free
.

BOOK: See How They Run
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