The Lost Girl (Brennan and Esposito) (33 page)

BOOK: The Lost Girl (Brennan and Esposito)
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65
 

A
nni crept inside the building.

It was dark, the only light coming around the wooden and card boards stuck in front of some old windows. She wanted to take out her flashlight but didn’t dare. She could hear voices, or at least one voice, somewhere off in the depths of the building. She could also see light bleeding in from somewhere up ahead. Artificial light.

She waited while her eyes became accustomed to the dark. In front of her were large rectangular wooden frames, made into box-like constructions. There was a door leading into the first one. She went inside. Looked round. It was the photographic facsimile of a bedroom. She took out her flashlight, thought it was safe enough to use it in this box. She shone it round the walls. There was something familiar about this room…

She got it. Phil and Marina’s.

The answer just opened the door to more questions.

Turning the flashlight off she moved out of the box room and walked onwards.

Cables snaked on the floor to a portable generator. That must be what’s providing the light, she thought. She walked on.

Another box room, then another. The place was like a film set, she thought. Or a theatre. But she still couldn’t understand why.

Eventually she reached the part of the building where the light was coming from. Wooden frames ran the width of the building. A doorway was inset in one of them. There was a small area on her side of the wall. A director’s chair, mirror and make-up box. The make-up box open, the make-up used. The mirror with lights around it like she had seen in professional dressing rooms. The chair, judging from the depression in the seat, recently sat in.

She listened. Voices from the other side of the wall. She moved to the doorway, opened it a crack.

A woman’s voice. Calming, soothing. She knew instinctively it was her.

Anger rushed up inside her at that. Her hand went for the gun.

No, she said to herself. Take a breath. Act rationally. Calmly. Think.

She looked round the door. Was quite taken aback. The whole room, about half of the building, was white. And there was Phil sitting against the wall, naked, cradled in the woman’s arms. She stared at the woman. Didn’t recognise her at all.

But it must be her. It must be.

She took the gun from her waistband, held it.

Took aim.

Ready to fire.

66
 

‘H
ere,’ she said. ‘Take this.’

She handed Phil the capsule. He held his palm out, stared at it.

‘Just put it in your mouth, bite down hard.’

He looked confused, frowned at her words. ‘What… I… But…’

‘Just bite down on it. That’s all. Look, I’ve got one. I’ll do the same. At the same time. And when we do it we look into each other’s eyes. Right?’

Phil nodded, hoping again that was the right answer.

‘Right. Look into each other’s eyes. And smile. And then we drift away together. This world won’t be able to hold us any more. We won’t have to worry about anything any more. We’ll never have to hide our love or let anything or anyone come between us again. We’ll fly off into eternity. Together. Forever.’

Phil looked at the capsule in his hand. Then watched what she did.

She raised her hand to her mouth, transferred the capsule from her palm to her mouth. She smiled at him.

‘Go on, then.’

Smiling, he raised his hand to his mouth.

67
 

M
arina entered the building alongside Franks. The armed response team were waiting to be called. There were two other officers with them, both in full body armour. They all looked round, waited while their eyes acclimatised.

‘Down there,’ said Marina, pointing to where the light was bleeding at the end of the building.

She moved quickly, had spotted the outline of a figure at the door.

The figure saw her moving forwards, ducked inside the white room.

Marina reached the door, looked in. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn’t this.

Phil was over by the wall, naked, being cradled by a naked woman who was about to put something into her mouth. He was about to do likewise. Anni was standing at the far end of the room, pointing a gun at them.

‘Stop,’ shouted Marina. ‘All of you. Stop…’

Phil looked up at her, frowned, head on one side.

‘Anni? Anni, what are you doing?’

Anni kept her grip on the gun, pointing straight at the woman. ‘She’s mine. After what she did to Mickey she deserves it.’

‘Wait!’ Marina stepped forward slowly. Hoping that her friend wouldn’t take a shot while she was there in front of her. And she didn’t know what was going on between Phil and the woman so hoped her action wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise getting him back. She needed to stall, time to think.

‘What the bloody hell —’ Franks had arrived.

‘Stay back, Gary,’ Marina told him. ‘Please.’ He started to speak, she held up a hand for silence from the centre of the room where she now stood. ‘I’m going to do what you brought me here to do. OK?’

Franks understood, nodded, stepped backwards.

Marina turned to the naked woman who was now staring up at her. She looked feral, like a lion about to make a bid for freedom from captivity. Marina moved slowly. Cautiously. Respecting that feral, unpredictable ferocity.

‘Listen,’ she said, hoping that her voice would reach her, penetrate whatever layers of thinking she had. ‘He’s not who you think he is.’ She pointed, kept her voice low, calming. ‘Phil. He’s not who you think he is.’

The woman snarled at her.

‘You think he’s your brother, right?’ She swallowed hard, hoped the woman wouldn’t catch the fear in her voice. ‘He’s not.’

‘Liar!’ she screamed.

‘I’m not,’ said Marina, still trying to keep her voice as calm and steady as she could. ‘I’m not lying. He’s not your brother.’

‘You just want him back…’ She clung onto Phil even harder.

Behind her, Marina was still aware of Anni trying to get in position to get a shot off at the woman. She turned, reluctantly drew her attention away from the woman.

‘Anni, don’t… please…’

Anni kept her sights on the woman, her gun held straight out. ‘She killed Mickey, Marina.’ Eyes never leaving the woman. ‘She deserves it.’

‘You’ll go to prison, Anni. For her.’

‘So? At least she won’t be able to kill anyone else. I’ll have done everyone a service.’

‘But, Anni…’

Marina was aware of movement behind her. She turned round, faced the woman and Phil once more. The woman was trying to get her attention.

‘You’re just jealous,’ shouted the woman. ‘Yeah, you. Jealous of the love Phil and I share. Because it was never like that with you. Because you had nothing,
nothing
like it.’

Marina stepped forward slightly, hoped the woman wouldn’t notice.

‘It’s got nothing to do with jealousy. Honestly. I told you before and I told you the truth. He’s not your brother.’

‘No… no… this is a trick. This what you’ve been told to tell me…’

‘No trick. Just what I’ve learned, what I know. Phil is not your brother. Your brother’s still alive, still out there somewhere.’

She started shaking her head wildly from side to side. ‘No… no…’

Marina pressed on. ‘Your parents were killed by a contract killer. Your father was a police officer. He arrested a gangster from Leeds who wanted him killed. The gangster got his wish.’

‘No… no…’ Even louder, trying to block out Marina’s words with her own.

‘Your parents were killed in a safe house. You and your brother were left alive. You were split up. Sent to foster homes, different ones. You weren’t allowed to have any contact with each other. You were given a false name, so was he. You were never told his, he was never told yours.’

She was screaming now, incoherent, moaning and screaming.

‘And then…’ Marina continued, edging further forward slightly as she spoke. She was aware of Anni making a movement behind her too. Held out a hand, gestured for her to stay back. She didn’t know whether the gesture was successful.

‘I’m sorry about this next bit,’ said Marina, continuing. ‘About what happened to you. But you were forgotten about. You slipped through the cracks.’

‘No… no… lies… liar…’

‘I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. That really is the truth.’

‘No… no…’

‘Phil isn’t your brother. He’s my husband. And I’d like him back, please.’

The woman screamed once more, making the kind of sound an animal makes when it’s been trapped. She turned to Phil, grabbed his face.

‘Take it,’ she shouted, ‘take it…’

Marina saw what was happening. She moved forward, tried to reach Phil before the woman could do anything. But as she did so, time seemed to slow down. The distance between Phil and the woman and Marina seemed to stretch out to the length of several cathedrals. The floor became molasses. Marina tried to run but it was like she was in a dream, couldn’t move quick enough.

The woman pushed Phil back on to the floor, tried to force his jaws together. ‘Bite, bite… take it… don’t… don’t listen to her… just bite…’

Phil clamped his jaws tightly together.

‘No!’ Marina screaming now.

The woman looked up at Marina, triumph in her eyes. Then bit down on her own capsule, and slumped to the floor.

Marina reached the pair of them. But the woman’s rapidly dying body told her she was too late.

Time stopped. The room froze.

Anni broke the silence.

‘You bitch,’ she shouted from behind Marina. ‘You cheated me…’

Her gun still pointed ahead.

Marina reached down for Phil, who was lying on the floor. She tried to pull him into a sitting position.

‘Phil…’

She was frightened to move him, scared to touch him, almost.

He opened his eyes, looked up at her. Smiled.

‘Marina… It’s you…’

‘Yes…’

‘I never made snow angels…’

He opened his hand. In his palm was the capsule.

‘Oh, thank God…’

Marina hugged him. Felt tears run down her face. ‘I’ve got you back… I’ve got you back… You’re safe now, safe…’

He pulled away from her, so he could look into her eyes. Smiled. ‘Marina… my… wife…’

She smiled back. ‘That’s me.’

‘No… get off…’

Marina looked up. Franks had made a grab for Anni’s gun. She was fighting him off.

‘Don’t —’

The gun fired.

A scream froze on Marina’s lips.

The bullet hit Phil. It spun his body, drove him back onto the floor where he landed forcefully.

He lay there, eyes closed, the blood spreading out from under his body like angel’s wings against the snow white of the room.

68
 

M
arina watched from a distance as the hearse arrived with the coffin and the pallbearers walked it up the aisle of the crematorium chapel. Birmingham Crematorium on Walsall Road was as peaceful and welcoming as it could be. But still Marina hated coming here. Not, she thought, that it makes me different from anyone else in that respect.

She saw a couple walk up behind the coffin, a woman and an old man. It looked like he was the woman’s father but Marina knew it was Imani’s parents. Her father was visibly shaken, walking with help from a cane and assistance from people either side. The man had taken the news about his daughter as badly as he could, having a small stroke when he heard it.

It was time for the rest of the mourners to file in. There were plenty of dress uniforms on display. Even Cotter was wearing one. They had nodded to each other, Marina declining her offer to come in with the force, sit among Imani’s colleagues. She didn’t feel she had the right, somehow.

Simon Matthews entered behind the police, also wearing dress uniform. Still not one of the gang, thought Marina. He didn’t look at her. She told herself he probably hadn’t seen her.

She waited until they had all entered then tried to slip in quietly at the back. A voice stopped her.

‘Hi.’

She turned. Anni Hepburn stood there looking very uneasy.

‘Hi,’ said Marina.

It was the first time they had spoken to each other since that night in Elmstead Market. When Anni had shot her husband.

‘I thought I’d find you here,’ said Anni, looking down at the ground, finding the gravel outside the porch suddenly fascinating.

Marina nodded.

‘I just wanted to pay my respects. That’s all.’

Marina said nothing.

Anni sighed. ‘Look —’

‘Let’s go in. This is for Imani.’

Anni nodded.

They entered together.

 

The service was humanist, which surprised Marina. The minster taking it seemed to have talked to plenty of Imani’s friends and colleagues, and Marina found herself surprised that while laughing at some of the anecdotes she found tears on her cheeks.

Afterwards Marina spoke to Imani’s parents, said how proud she was to have known their daughter. How privileged she had been to work with her. But she sensed her parents either didn’t care or didn’t want to know from anyone who had been connected with their daughter when she died so she started to walk away.

Anni caught up with her.

‘Can we talk?’

Marina stopped walking, ready to hurl some invective at her old friend. Instead she just sighed. ‘Yeah. Come on.’

They made their way to a bar in the city centre that Marina knew. The Old Joint Stock, a favourite of hers and Phil’s. It was once an Edwardian bank and still had the ornate architecture and high ceilings plus a theatre in the back of the building. They found a table upstairs, took their drinks, sat down.

‘I’m sorry,’ Anni began. ‘I suppose that goes without saying. Look, I didn’t mean to —’

‘I know. We wouldn’t be talking now if you did.’

Anni nodded, took a sip of her gin and tonic.

‘So what happened after that?’

Anni shrugged. ‘They ran me back to the station, Franks had a right go at me. But since you didn’t press charges, they let me go. And then I phoned you. But you didn’t answer. Several times.’

‘I was in the hospital. Seeing if Phil —’

‘I know.’ Anni sighed. ‘I know, Marina.’ She took another mouthful of her drink. ‘Jesus, what a mess.’

They sat in silence for a while, Marina sipping her red wine, Anni her gin and tonic.

‘Look,’ said Marina, putting her glass on the table before her, ‘I didn’t take your call because —’

‘You were with Phil. You said.’

‘Can I finish? Yes I was with Phil. But I also didn’t know what to say to you. If Phil had died because you’d…’ She couldn’t finish the sentence.

‘I know.’ Anni sighed again. Fell silent. ‘Any news?’

Marina shook her head. ‘Just the same.’

Anni nodded. Unsure what to say, what she could possibly say to make things any better.

She sighed once more. ‘I just… it’s grief. Grief does that to you. Makes you like that, makes you behave like I did. Anger. Revenge. All of that. I didn’t mean to —’

‘Did you mean to kill her?’

Anni opened her mouth to answer, stopped herself. ‘I… don’t know. Honestly? I really don’t know. I mean, I stood there, pointing that gun, keeping her in front of me, knowing I had the power to end her life. Boom, just one little pull of the trigger. And then she went and did that anyway.’

‘And how did that make you feel?’

‘Cheated,’ said Anni, straight away. ‘That she’d taken this showdown away from me. This power. I just… I don’t know. I wanted to make her suffer, make her pay for what she did to Mickey. But she took that chance away from me. But when I’ve thought about it afterwards, I don’t know whether I’d have actually done it. I think I just wanted to make her feel fear.’ She nodded, as if hearing her words for the first time. ‘Yeah. I think that was it. Fear.’

‘But it all went wrong.’

Anni sat forward. ‘You think I don’t know that? You think these last few days, what is it now, a couple of weeks almost? You think that hasn’t been hell for me? Really? Course it has. Worst time of my life since…’

They both acknowledged the name in the silence. Anni continued.

‘It meant I was a killer. A killer, no matter how accidentally. And I’m sure Franks would have had something to say about that. I’d have done time. And I’d have deserved to. And I would have spent every day paying for it, like I should have done. Because then I’d have lost two of the best men I’d even known. And I’d have caused one of them to go.’ Her eyes were blurring with tears. ‘I would have deserved every kind of hell I got.’

She sat back, spent.

Marina couldn’t look at her. There had been so much she had wanted to say to Anni. That was why she hadn’t returned her calls. She had had imaginary conversations in her head, day and night, throwing every kind of accusation at her, hearing every excuse in return, then countering it brilliantly with another accusation until Anni was broken.

But sitting in the bar, looking at her friend and seeing how much hurt her actions had caused to herself, she knew that nothing she could say would make any difference. If she berated her, Anni would accept it. If she forgave her, Anni would accept that, but, Marina knew, not feel deserving of it.

So instead she thought of Imani’s father at the funeral, remembered what grief had done to him. The real cost of it.

‘What?’ asked Anni.

Marina tried to smile. ‘Drink, up, my round. Just got to nip to the ladies on the way.’

She went downstairs, locked herself in a cubicle. Once inside and sure there was no one around, she let out all the rage, fear, anger and grief that had built up inside her. Let it consume her until there was nothing left, or she felt there was nothing left. Until she felt ready to move on.

Then let herself out, checked her make-up concealed as much as it could, went to the bar and ordered more drinks.

BOOK: The Lost Girl (Brennan and Esposito)
7.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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