Waking Broken (23 page)

Cole clenched and unclenched his fists slowly. ‘I never really wanted to do this,’ he said in an undertone.

‘Do what?’

He smiled sadly at Glasgow. ‘You know I’ve got some interestin’ video footage of you?’

The answering smile was cold. ‘Have you really? You astonish me,’ said the detective with no hint of surprise. He smoothed one trouser leg with an elegant gesture and leant back in his chair. ‘I often wondered whether or not you’d put something like that in the bank. I guess I always hoped you wouldn’t. Just goes to show doesn’t it. I mean: if you really were my friend you’d have trusted me. Then you wouldn’t have felt the need to do anything like that.’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ said Cole. ‘Slippery, twisty words from a slippery, twisty little bastard. Well, if you’d really been my friend you’d never have found out would you? Anyway, I bet you’ve got a file on me.’

‘Of course I have.’

‘You want to see the film I’ve got? Just before you make any final decisions?’

‘Oh, there’s no need.’

‘No?’

‘No.’ Glasgow shook his head. ‘You’re not going to blackmail me, Nelson. I don’t really care what you’ve got on me. Whatever you’ve got, I can come up with worse on you.’

‘Really?’ said Cole. ‘There’s one thing you’re forgettin’ though.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Well, I’m an innocent man. I’ve not got any convictions, my friend. Not one. Also, I can get away with doin’ things you can’t. But you, you’ve been in trouble before haven’t you. Been suspended at least once. Had a few complaints made against you. How’s it goin’ to look in a court of law? Innocent businessman versus dodgy copper: I know which one most juries would back.’ He stabbed a finger at Glasgow. ‘If I ever see you in court, my friend, I’ll make sure your reputation is gone for good. No force will ever employ you again.’

Glasgow smiled. ‘That’s where you’re wrong, Nelson. I know I don’t always do things by the book but I’m good at my job.’ He shrugged. ‘You can try sending your videos to my bosses. I doubt there’s anything in there that would surprise them. They know I don’t play by the rules but the thing is: I get information others can’t get. They don’t want to know the details but they know the way it works. Sometimes you need to get down into the sewer to find the dirt. And that’s what I do, I find the dirt.’

Cole stood up. There was a tense silence as he stared at Glasgow. But then he turned away and pointed to the door, his fury faded and replaced with a dull loathing. ‘Just get out of here, copper. Piss off, will you.’

Friday, 12.54pm:

Harper smiled as he let himself into the building. Rebecca had dropped him off nearly an hour earlier, before driving off to see Paul Cash. She wanted to find out more about what her new job as the artist’s personal assistant involved. As she was getting ready to go, she asked Harper if he wanted to come along but he declined. Cash probably would not mind but it did not really seem appropriate. Besides, Harper had plenty on his mind to keep himself occupied.

It had been a strange morning for him but one that left a warm glow. Most obviously, there was the revelation his father was still alive. That alone was a staggering concept with which to come to terms; and involved some mixed feelings. But even more immediate and more important was Rebecca herself.

When she left him on the corner it was with a quick peck on the cheek. The gesture would have seemed inconsequential to a stranger but to Harper was on a par with winning an Olympic medal and finding the Holy Grail rolled into one. The pleasure it gave him almost made the mental mayhem and physical pain that consumed his life over the past week seem insignificant.

Having Rebecca back, or at least within reach, transformed everything. It felt like a huge weight removed from his shoulders. And some of the darkness swept from his mind. There had been times during the past few days — particularly in those bleaker moments when he stopped to dwell on his situation — when the idea of winning Rebecca back seemed impossible. And even when trying to be positive, he never expected to get this far so quickly.

But, somehow, he had.

Now he felt like he was mainlining euphoria. Everything was golden with promise. The faint misgivings that hovered in the back of his mind at Haworth Manor the previous morning had been swept away, obliterated by a rush of relief and elation. His real life and everything he had lost seemed once more attainable.

Harper had initially planned on going straight back to his flat after Rebecca said goodbye. She dropped him at the end of the street to avoid getting caught up in the traffic around the railway station. But, as he drew closer, the idea of going — on his own — up to those rooms that were both his home and not his home seemed an impossible comedown. He needed to move, to see people and savour the enormity of his blessing.

Instead of continuing towards the flat, he turned and went the other way, towards the city centre. Unaware of his limp, ignorant of his body’s protesting muscles, Harper wandered the streets in a daze. Finally managing to calm the happy excitement of his heart, he strolled into a cafe, treating himself to a large mocha and a Danish pastry. As he sat in the window, the idiot’s grin plastered across his face made several passers-by smile in response. It also ensured no one else came and took a seat next to him.

Eventually though, some of the rush of excitement subsided and his mind returned to something closer to logical thought. He left a large tip as he paid for his coffee and ambled back to the place where, for the time at least, he had to accept as being where he lived.

As he made his way up the stairs, he found himself looking about the place with what was almost fondness. It was not as bad as it had seemed when he first found himself forced to return here. The building was battered around the edges but not really seedy, more well-worn. It had character too: from the scuffed parquet of the entrance hall to the soaring ceilings and ornate ceiling roses. A shaft of pale light coming from a skylight poured a sheen of honey across the woodwork of the banisters and a hint of citrus lingered in the air: probably a toilet freshener but more appealing than the dank odour of some houses of multiple occupancy.

Part way up, he paused. He grabbed the banister rail for support as the fog swarmed across his vision. His limbs went weak and he closed his blurring eyes, waiting for it to pass. He had experienced similar attacks a number of times over the last few days. Each came with little warning: a darkness that gathered in the corner of his vision before surging out. The first few times, the fog only appeared at the periphery of his vision. Now, each attack almost robbed him of his sight. The accompanying disorientation also brought on a bout of nausea.

What triggered the episodes remained a mystery. Luckily, they never seemed to last long and no one else had yet noticed them strike. Harper was unsure whether the incidents were linked to his accident or a symptom of some other problem but of one thing he was sure: he had no desire to tell a doctor and find himself hospitalised while they ran endless, inconclusive tests.

The moment passed and Harper shook his head. He took a few seconds to regain his bearings before continuing up. Once the attack was over, he felt fine again and the morning’s good mood returned with full force.

Reaching the second floor, Harper was about to go into his own flat when he heard music from the rooms next to his. It sounded like some kind of Irish folk tune. On a whim, Harper gave a quick rap on the door, drawn by the music as much as by any thought of what he was doing.

‘Hold on.’

Only when Harper heard the response did it occur to him that knocking on an ex-girlfriend’s door was not his best idea of the day. Particularly an ex-girlfriend of whom he had absolutely no memory. By that point, however, it was too late to reconsider or run and hide. He bit his lip as the door opened.

She looked at him with surprise, the smile dying on her face. She frowned then pursed her lips. ‘So?’

Harper gave a tentative smile. ‘Kate… I’m sorry. But I heard the music and… well, I don’t know… we didn’t get off to a very good start the other day.’

‘Start?’ She blinked and gave him a cold stare. ‘That’s a strange idea, Danny. I thought we’d gone beyond “start”. I was under the impression we’d reached the finish. Least, that’s the way you put it the last time. You were quite adamant it was the last time. Although it wasn’t the first time you’d said that either.’

Harper looked at his feet. ‘Yeah… I know. But…’ He paused. ‘It wasn’t the first time?’

‘Yes. The third, I think. Or was it the fourth?’ She frowned when she saw his expression and gave him a quizzical stare. ‘Are you okay?’

Harper hesitated, considering. ‘Yes and no. It’s hard to explain.’

‘Yes and no?’ She leant closer, peering into his eyes. ‘Are you on something?’

‘No,’ he said with a shrug, not quite able to come down from his high. ‘Not unless you include life.’

‘Oh God.’ She curled a lip. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve gone and got religion. You’re not going to start going hallelujah on me are you? Please tell me that’s not a tambourine in your pocket?’

Harper grinned nervously. ‘No, nothing like that.’ He shrugged, realising he was digging himself ever deeper into a morass of complications but unsure how to withdraw. ‘I don’t know. Like I said, I just heard the music. I… er… realise things between us haven’t been straightforward and well…’

‘What?’ She gave him a withering stare. ‘You haven’t had a shag for a few days and thought you’d try me? Or was it just the friendly cup of tea you were after?’

Harper laughed despite himself. Her expression flickered from steely contempt to bright anger but then veered away. A slight smile curled the ends of her mouth as she shook her head in despair. ‘What are you like? Blokes. You’re pathetic.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ Harper nodded and smiled: a misunderstanding as good an escape as any for a man in an awkward situation. ‘And you don’t even know the half of it.’

‘Oh fuck.’ She stood aside. ‘Well, come on in,’ she said in what was clearly meant to sound like resignation but did not quite make the grade.

Half an hour later, he was sitting in her flat
.
Kate was standing, staring out of the window. She was wearing jeans and a singlet, her blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail. She leant with one shoulder against the window frame, thoughtfully toying with the pendant around her neck.

Harper watched her watching the world. She was a touch smaller than Rebecca and a bit curvier. She was a few years younger too and he could tell by the muscles in her arms that she probably worked out regularly: either that or her job in the hospital involved a lot of heavy lifting. The dark rings around the eyes Harper had noticed the other day seemed to have faded and she looked fresher, less ground down by life.

The conversation of the last half-hour had been a bit disjointed due to a combination of her assumptions and his ignorance but they had limped towards a kind of understanding. It had also been enough for Harper to get a bit of a sense of her personality. She tried to come across as a tough cookie but he was pretty sure the prickliness was a combination of general-purpose protective skin and some genuine hurt caused by the way she had been treated. By him, he had to keep reminding himself.

On the other hand, Harper could tell she was struggling to hold a grudge. And, although she was trying not to show it, he had a sense Kate was glad to see him. Underneath the veneer of irritation, he noticed she possessed a quick sense of humour and seemed very down-to-earth. It was easy to see why he had found her attractive. Although why they had split up was another matter and not one he wanted to try digging into yet.

As he studied her, he found it bizarre to think he had slept with her, not once but regularly over several months. Brendan had told him they were practically living together last summer. He wondered for a moment what it had been like, then — with a guilty pang — forced the thought away.

Kate let go of her necklace. ‘So, this girl,’ she said, still looking out of the window, ‘where did you meet her?’

‘Huh?’

She glanced over her shoulder: lip curled and gave him a disbelieving look. ‘Er, hello? The one you were telling me about two minutes ago. The “old friend” who’s suddenly come back on the scene.’

‘Sorry.’ Harper shook his head apologetically. ‘I was thinking about other things. But… I met her at a work’s party. Christmas do.’

‘Right.’ She was silent for a moment, thinking. ‘Where do you know her from?’

Harper smiled. ‘Oh, another life.’

‘Humph.’

She stared out of the window for a bit longer and then turned round. Kate looked thoughtful. ‘So, what’s she called?’

‘Rebecca.’

‘Where does she live?’

Harper frowned. ‘Why?’

Kate gave him an odd look. ‘Does she have an address?’

‘Of course she does. But why do you want to know?’

She laughed. ‘Oh Danny, don’t worry. I’m not going to go round and claw her eyes out or anything like that.’ She shrugged easily enough but he detected a brittle edge to her humour. ‘You should know that’s not my style. I might have been pissed off when you dumped me but don’t flatter yourself I’m going to be in therapy for the rest of my life. It’s not the end of my world. I think we did have something good and I still reckon it’s a shame you decided to throw it away but I’m not going to spend the rest of my life regretting what might have been.’

‘So why the questions?’

She shook her head. ‘Because I want to make sure she’s real.’

‘Real?’

‘Yeah.’ Kate pulled a face. ‘There’s something funny about you, Danny, and I can’t put my finger on it. You’ve said some things that don’t really make sense but it’s not just that. There’s something about you. The way you behave has changed somehow.’ She stared at him, a hint of tenderness creeping into her eyes. ‘I’m worried about you. I don’t know if you’re on drugs…’

‘No.’

She shrugged. ‘If you say so.’

‘I do. Believe me, I’m not on drugs.’

‘Okay. Not drugs. There’s something though. Personality changes don’t happen for no reason. Stress? Illness? Injury?’

Harper held his hands up. ‘Look, I’ll be honest with you. I told you I got knocked down the other day. They took me to hospital and checked me out. They couldn’t find anything wrong but… well, I have been having a few strange dreams and some problems with my memory. Nothing major,’ he said hastily before she could interrupt. ‘It’s just left my memory a bit funny. It’s getting better but that might be why I seem a bit odd.’

She frowned, unconvinced. ‘So what tests did they do at the hospital?’

Harper shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Whatever tests they normally do when someone gets hit by a car.’

‘Hmmph.’ Kate shook her head. ‘I think you should go and talk to your GP, tell him what happened.’

‘Why? I’m fine.’

‘You might think so but I’m not so sure. Look.’ She came and crouched down in front of him, resting her hands on his knees. She looked up into his eyes. ‘If you were in an accident with a car, it’s quite likely you took some kind of blow to your head. They might have checked you out in hospital but they would just have been looking for the obvious physical things. Just because you didn’t get concussion doesn’t mean you couldn’t still have taken a knock that’s shaken something up inside.’

She sighed and bit her lip. ‘Besides, there are other possibilities.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, let’s be honest: you do drink a lot, Danny. You work pretty odd hours sometimes and some of the stories you write about aren’t that pleasant.’ Kate glanced down. ‘There’s all kinds of things that can… affect you. Stress can hit people in different ways too.’