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Authors: Jules Wake

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Talk to Me (28 page)

BOOK: Talk to Me
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Daniel slapped the steering wheel. ‘No, it bloody isn’t. What the hell were you playing at? Didn’t you check on any of the psychos? Your own bloody cousin.’ Part of him knew losing his rag like this wouldn’t help but he needed to rage at someone. If this traffic didn’t start moving, he’d just get out and leave the damn car here. It would be quicker to run.

Up ahead a space in the traffic opened. He let out the breath he’d been holding for too long. ‘Don’t hang up. I’m on my way.’ Tossing the phone, the line still open, onto the passenger seat, he floored the accelerator and raced down the wrong side of the road, darting in front of the queue slowly crossing the traffic lights. By the skin of his teeth he whipped back into the line of traffic to a chorus of angry horn blasts.

‘I’ll be there in ten,’ he yelled, hoping that Barney could still hear. ‘Meet me, there.’

Driving like a complete maniac, he managed to piss of virtually every driver south of the river. Overtaking on corners, cutting people up, tailgating
 …
the adrenaline coursed through him as he weaved through the traffic without a care for the paintwork or bumpers of his or any other car.

‘Out of my way, you arse,’ he yelled, as a young woman dithered at the roundabout ahead of him. Why was the world filled with crap drivers? Couldn’t they see he was in a hurry?

Finally he pulled out into the stream of traffic ignoring the indignant blares of horns in his wake. This was life or death.

Twisting and turning through Wandsworth, he thought he’d never hit the Earlsfield Road.

‘Come on, come on,’ he muttered, tapping the steering wheel, his foot hopping up and down on the accelerator revving the engine rudely. ‘Now lady, now.’

Narrowly missing two schoolgirls hopping off at their bus stop and trying to cross the road, he swerved round the bus and picked up speed down Garrett Lane. Sod the forty-mile an hour signs. If anything, he hoped the police would spot him. He’d lead them straight there.

Finally he turned into the street and threw the car into a space, uncaring that most of the back end stuck out into the stream of traffic. Grabbing his phone, he cut Barney off and tried Olivia’s phone again. It rang and rang eventually cutting to her voice, perky and upbeat inviting him to leave a message.

His voice dried in his mouth. What to say? There were a million things he wanted to tell her but he couldn’t get the words past the lump in his throat. How he felt? Where was she? Why wasn’t she answering? Punching the off button, he stuffed the phone in his pocket, threw open the car door and slammed it shut behind him. Horns blared as he raced across the road, putting his hand up in apology at the on-coming cars. As he came to a stop outside the flat, he anxiously scanned the first floor windows above the shop. Nothing. No sign of life. No lights.

Then he went cold. The noise of the traffic receded and for a moment everything went black. He struggled to take a breath as his chest tightened at the sight of the scarlet coil of wool nestling into the doorstep like a pool of blood.

Every pulse point pounded as he tried to focus, the horrible facts adding up faster and faster.

‘Daniel! Over here.’ Barney’s voice came from a few houses up the street. ‘We just got here.’

Daniel immediately zoned in on Emily and without preamble, said, ‘We have to go in.’

‘We?’ In another situation the horror on her face might have been comical. ‘I’m not going in. What if he’s there?’

‘Exactly,’ snapped Daniel. ‘He is here. Look.’ He pointed to the cashmere scarf.

‘My scarf. I’ve been
 …
’ Her words ground to a halt and she stared up at Daniel, her face paling.

‘I thought we’d agreed that neither of you would be alone in the flat until he was caught,’ accused Daniel.

Emily opened her mouth as if to come up with an excuse but quickly thought better of it. ‘I
 …
I
 …
I thought you were being over the top. Besides, he’s probably harmless. It’s probably nothing to worry about.’

‘Nothing to worry about.’ Rage pulsed through him. ‘Which bit of weird do you not get?’ he asked through gritted teeth. ‘This guy broke in and left a dead animal with its throat cut as a message. A fair clue he’s dangerous, don’t you think? I’d say we can be reasonably confident he’s here. Olivia’s on her own, she said she would be here
 …
and she’s not answering either phone. It’s not looking that great to me.’ He’d never hit a woman in his life but the urge to slap Emily itched at his palms. Even Barney looked impatient.

‘What if he’s holding a knife to Olivia’s throat?’

For a moment she looked shamefaced.

Barney turned to her. ‘Em, you have to go in. See what he’s doing? Find out the lie of the land. We can’t all just barge in there.’

‘You are joking.’ Her eyes widened. ‘No way.’

Daniel took a step towards her and drew himself up. ‘Olivia could be in a lot of trouble in there. We have no idea what he’s capable of
 …
but given his track record to date, I’m not prepared to risk another minute. You have to go in. We’ll follow behind quietly, he won’t be expecting us.’

‘Besides,’ Barney looked at Emily briefly and gave her an apologetic smile, ‘having seen those photos, it’s you he wants.’ He took both her hands and held them, looking sincerely into her eyes. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll be right behind you.’

‘Actually,’ he had had a moment to think. It was no use blindly charging in, they had no idea where Olivia was, where Peter was and whether he had any weapons on him. ‘It would be better not to scare him or alert him to the fact we know he’s dangerous. Emily should go in as if she were coming home from work as normal.’ He paused to make sure Emily got the point. ‘You and I, Barney, need to go in quietly as back up, so that we can surprise him. I suggest Emily leaves the latch off and you sneak in after her and I’ll try and get in at the back so that we’ve got two lines of attack, especially as we have no idea where they are in the flat.’

‘Or even if they are in there!’ snapped Emily bitchily.

His palms twitched. ‘Let’s stick with worst case scenario.’

He gave her a look of disgust and focused on Barney. ‘We’ll time it exactly. Emily you need to make as much noise as you can, so that I can come in through the back. I might have to break the window in the kitchen or force the door. Give me five minutes from now and then you go in the front.’

Emily put her hands on her hips but he could see her defiance deflating rapidly. ‘Do I have to?’

He glared at her.

‘You’ll be a hero,’ said Barney, hugging her to him, eying Daniel over the top of her head.

Daniel swallowed the metallic taste of fear in his mouth and glanced again at his mobile phone, willing it to reveal that he’d missed a call from Olivia and this was all crazy supposition. The screen remained blank.

Where was Olivia? And why wasn’t she answering her phone?

Chapter Twenty-One

Peter had been lying in wait for me. With my windpipe under pressure there was no way I could fight him as he forced me towards the metal staircase to the flat.

As he pushed me at the first step I could smell the strong scent of carbolic soap as the rough hair of his strong forearm rubbed under my chin. I could barely make the steps, my knees were only just working and my thighs shaking.

‘Ups-a-daisy,’ said Peter, kneeing me sharply in the back of the leg.

‘You know the police know all about you. You can’t get away with this,’ I said, my teeth gritted so that the betraying tremor in my voice didn’t escape.

‘Can’t get away with what?’ he answered his voice pleasant and reasonable, remonstrating with me for my deplorable manners. ‘That’s no way to greet a guest, not very friendly at all.’ He tutted and shook his head. ‘You should have invited me in. Shall we start again?’

We reached the kitchen and he let go and shoved me in.

‘This is the part where you invite me in.’

‘I’d rather you left.’ I tried to sound firm. It didn’t work, my voice came out weak and wobbly.

His lips twisted unpleasantly and I caught a fleeting something in his eyes.

‘No can do. It’s Emily I’m here to see but I see she’s out. So I’ll just have to wait. In the meantime, you’re in the way.’

What the hell did that mean?

‘I can leave,’ I said stupidly, never believing for a moment he’d agree.

‘I think not. Don’t worry you won’t be in the way while I wait.’

‘But Emily’s gone,’ I said urgently, wondering whether telling him this was a good idea or not.

‘Really?’ Peter cocked his head, an amused smile on his face.

‘No seriously, she’s moved out.’

He laughed politely. ‘What since yesterday? I don’t think so.’

‘But—’

‘Enough!’ he shouted his face darkening. I jumped at the change in mood. He stepped forward menacingly and grabbed my arm.

‘This way,’ he snarled and pulled me through to the lounge.

Once in the other room, he picked up a rucksack from the top of the stairs, headed straight over to the dining table and pulled out a chair. He had it all planned.

‘Sit,’ he said, thrusting a knee into my stomach forcing me to sit down. ‘Don’t move or I’ll kill you.’ He was calm again. Digging carefully into the bag, he produced a Stanley knife with a flourish. His dark eyes never left my face.

My stomach dropped with a horrible loop the loop, falling away sensation. The hairs on my forearms rose jumping to attention like iron filings to a magnet and my thighs were doing a jig all by themselves.

With a sly smile he pulled out a roll of silver tape. My stomach calmed for a second. Was that what the blade was for? I’d been so afraid he would use it on me. With every loop of tape, he became more confident and positively chatty.

‘I hate to say this, but it’s not you I’m interested in.’ He sneered at my chest. ‘Sorry, you just don’t tempt me. Now, Emily, on the other hand. She’s all woman.’ A scowl crossed his face and his expression hardened. ‘Unfortunately, she needs teaching a little lesson but no matter, she will learn.’

Admiring the Formula One track of tape that wound round my wrists and forearms, securing me to the chair, Peter walked round me poking the tape, before putting one last strip firmly over my mouth. He gave a little skip and sat down on the sofa. Then crossing one leg over his knee, he sat there flicking through one of Emily’s magazines as if he were waiting for a doctor’s appointment.

The minutes ticked by on the green numerals on the DVD player in the corner. The right side of my face was pulsing with pain, my hip bone ached and my feet were gradually going numb.

Emily was never going to come. Daniel would probably come and go. He’d give up when I didn’t answer the door or my mobile. My phone had rung several times in the last forty-five minutes. Every time Peter grinned matily at me. At the second call he mocked, ‘Want me to get that for you?’ and after the fourth, ‘Popular, aren’t you?’ before carrying on flicking through his magazine.

Daniel was bound to drive off in disgust at being stood up. And what about Barney? Had one of the calls been from him, or maybe Kate, or Bill or Mum?

The straight edge of the tape was cutting into my nose, sharp and uncomfortable, making me sniff. I tried hard not to. The last thing I wanted was for Peter to think I was crying.

Now that my heart had slowed, I felt calmer but painful pins and needles were taking over my feet. To take my mind off them, I studied Peter. What if I needed a wee? Would he let me? No chance. He’d leave me to do it right here and sit in my own puddle.

He didn’t know that Emily had gone for good but he was ready for the long haul. Judging by the controlled calm of his approach, he was very good at waiting.

As marauding maniacs went, he looked like a twenty-five watt version instead of the thousand watt Hollywood neon variety. No maniacal gleam in his eye. No inarticulate mutterings or frothing at the mouth. He looked totally nondescript. Harmless even.

As the minutes ticked by Peter got more comfortable. He even went and helped himself to a bottle of red wine and two glasses. Pouring a glass he raised it in a silent toast and with a sly smile took an appreciative gulp.

‘You girls do know your wine, a very good year this one,’ he said, smirking at me. The fact that he’d got the glasses and wine so quickly showed he knew his way around the flat. Just how many times had he pawed through our things?

My shoulders forced back had passed through the screaming stage and were now numb and tense. Where the tape touched bare skin it pulled at the hairs, a constant reminder of pain every time I moved. Not that I could move very far. I never would have believed how uncomfortable it could be forced to stay in one position for such a long time.

Worst of all was the knowledge that no one was coming. Self-pity crowded in. No one would miss me until work tomorrow, even then they might just wonder why I hadn’t phoned in. How long would it take for someone to notice? As a silent tear escaped, I turned my head, so that Peter couldn’t see it.

Peter snapped to attention upon hearing the scratch and chink of a key in the front door. And so did I. It was the last sound I was expecting. The only person with one of our new keys was Emily. It couldn’t be her, could it?

Peter turned and smiled. ‘She’s home,’ he said with a grin.

For the first time, I could see the shine of saliva on his lips. He was licking them feverishly, his tongue darting out lizard-like and his Adam’s apple bobbing in time. Tremors began to rack his slight frame as he rocked forward and back trying to contain his excitement.

He put his fingers over his lips as if to say ‘sh’ and giggled conspiratorially. I could see the anticipation in the sudden tension in his shoulders.

To my absolute amazement and total confusion, Emily issued a very loud and surprisingly chirpy, ‘Hi, Olivia.’ She carried on quickly, almost booming the words. ‘You’ll never guess who I bumped into. I knew you’d be dying to see him, so I invited him round. He’s coming in ten minutes.’

What on earth was she on about?

‘Yes, Olivia. Barney. Your cousin.’

Peter’s face was watchful now. As was mine. I knew who Barney was. What was she trying to tell me? Did she know that Peter was here? Was that why she’d come back?

Peter had stooped to pour a second glass of wine. Then he stood waiting for her to appear over the balustrade, Stanley knife clenched in hand.

She was still shouting, talking absolute nonsense, especially given our last conversation. ‘Blimey, Olivia, have you gone deaf. I’m home. God, I had a horrendous journey on the tube. You’ve no idea how awful it was. I was so pleased to see Barney.’

Finally I heard her pound up the steps. She was making a hell of a racket. Was that also something coming from the direction of the kitchen? And why with all that noise hadn’t I heard the front door slam?

At last Emily appeared. Her eyes widened as she let out a stunned gasp when she saw me trussed up. If I hadn’t been watching her so carefully, I’d have missed the quick dart of her eyes away down the corridor to the kitchen. My heart rose for a second. Was the cavalry on its way?

Peter smiled as he picked up the second glass of wine and went over to Emily as if this was entirely normal.

‘Emily, my darling. Thought you’d never get here.’

‘You!’ she said theatrically, swallowing nervously.

‘Yes. Waiting for you. I knew you’d be here eventually.’ He shot me a look of distaste before smiling at her. He looked like a lovesick puppy. ‘I’ve been waiting a long time. Come, sit down. I’ve got you a glass of wine.’

‘Er,’ stuttered Emily. ‘Look Peter, I …’ Her voice was loud again. She looked wildly at me. I gave my shoulders a fatalistic shrug. There was no point looking at me.

‘You haven’t been very nice to me, Emily.’ He waved the Stanley knife at her. ‘Those emails. Not kind. I thought you were different.’

Emily’s eyes caught mine again and frowned in thought for a second. There was a perceptible lift to her spine.

‘Do you know Peter? You’re right. I wasn’t very nice, was I? But Olivia had nothing to do with that. Do you think you could undo her?’

Peter gave me a dismissive look. ‘No, she’s not been very nice to me.’

That was rich but I thought that giving him the evil eye at this point might not help my cause.

‘I’m sure if you let her go we could sort everything out.’

She went over to him, stomping over making a lot of noise, staunchly ignoring the knife and took the glass of wine and sat down at the other end of the sofa. She smiled at him.

‘Those emails. I was having a really bad week and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. Email isn’t good.’

It was an amazing performance. Emily was trying hard and from Peter’s body language, I thought he might just be buying it. He put the knife down on the table.

The whole time I’d been listening carefully. There had to be some reason for Emily’s noisy entrance and subsequent shouting and reference to Barney. So when I saw Barney’s head peep around the stairs, my whole body slumped back against the chair. Thank God. How I managed not to beam at his reassuring wink, I’ll never know.

So who was in the kitchen? While Emily had been making all that noise downstairs, I’d definitely heard someone in there.

However, as long as Peter had that knife so close at hand, there on the table, no amount of knights in shining armour was going to save us.

‘Peter, why don’t we start again? We got off on the wrong foot,’ said Emily silkily. I had to admit she was bloody good at the femme fatale bit, even with a man who was clearly not sane.

I watched as Peter sidled along the sofa to sit closer to her, leaving the knife just that bit out of reach. Any minute now as he got nearer, he would have to turn his head. My opinion of her rose several notches, when she didn’t even flinch but sat there, smiling at him.

The minute he turned his back on me, I lunged forward, ignoring my tingling feet, and launched myself on top of the coffee table, even though I was still attached to the chair.

Thank God! The knife stayed sandwiched between the table and my layers of tape as Peter whirled round, spraying wine everywhere. He stood up and from my position, I saw him lift a foot, inches from my head. My eyes squeezed tight and my teeth locked in anticipation of the kick.

At that moment I heard Barney leap up from the stairs and a roar of rage from the kitchen. Lying prone, still glued to the chair like a small beetle, I opened my eyes to see Daniel appear from the kitchen like an avenging god. His face was thunderous as he grabbed Peter from behind, his arm hooking round his throat in a bruising neck lock.

‘Don’t you dare touch her again, you bastard,’ he ground out angrily, his arm jerking with fury. From this angle I could see Peter’s chin ratcheted up notch by notch as Daniel’s grip tightened.

Barney was beside me, ripping at the tape securing me to the chair. I think I passed out because the next thing I heard was the clumping of feet on the stairs. Suddenly the lounge was full of black soled shoes which was pretty much all I could see from my position. Two pairs of feet came to flank Daniel’s brogues, relieving him of his burden and rescuing Peter from imminent strangulation.

Then Daniel’s denim clad knees dropped in front of me as he elbowed Barney out of the way. ‘Olivia! My God.’

I mmm mphed through the tape. Daniel hesitated before picking at the edges. I screwed up my eyes as he ripped it off, tearing a good strip of skin off my cheek. Being able to breathe through my mouth again was such a welcome relief though that I forgave him the brutal exfoliation.

Having been brave for so long, I should have been able to have hung on a bit longer but as the tape was ripped off, my bravado collapsed like a tent in a force nine gale. Tears poured down my face mingling with the snot from my liberated nose.

Totally ignoring the slime trail of salty tears and unmentionables coursing down my face, Daniel scooped me up, chair and all, and laid his cheek against mine as he righted me. His eyes were drawn with horrified fascination to my throbbing cheekbone, which I could feel had swollen to Elephant Man proportions. Vaguely I was aware of helping hands ripping at the tape binding my arms to the wooden chair back.

Released at last, my shoulders were screaming having been pinned back in such an unnatural position for so long and I slumped forward in relief. Daniel grabbed my hands rubbing them between his. I looked up completely defeated, whispered, ‘Thank you,’ and laid my forehead on his shoulder. ‘How did you know?’

‘Tell you later,’ he muttered into my hair.

Around us I could hear the tinny sound of police radios, deep voices all talking at once. Daniel and I were in a private oasis, two alone in the midst of all the activity. My fingers, the pins and needles flooding them, wiggled their way to intertwine with his. My eyes were closed and I stayed there shutting everything out, absorbing the strength and warmth of Daniel’s presence, his steady breath in my ear, the firm grip of his fingers and the warm flesh under my forehead. I didn’t need anything else.

BOOK: Talk to Me
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