The sigh of relief from Quigley was audible. Delaney turned back to him. 'I'll talk to you later. Meanwhile, you better pray Norrell makes it. Because if he doesn't I'm going to come back here and finish the job he started. And I'm a professional.'
Quigley glared at his back as they left his field of vision then closed his eyes nervously, snaked a tongue around his dry lips and swallowed with evident pain.
Kate Walker flicked the end of her long, multi-coloured scarf over one shoulder and walked quickly across the quadrangle and around the corner, passing the main entrance to the South Hampstead Hospital as she started for the car park. Her head was down and although the rain, for the moment at least, had stopped, the north-east wind still had a chill edge to it. She fumbled in her pocket for her keys when a voice called out to her.
'Kate.'
She looked round, her heart thudding in her chest, to see Paul Archer.
He smiled at her, his voice friendly. 'Kate, what are you doing here? Were you looking for me?'
Kate couldn't speak, she couldn't breathe, she leaned back against her car, fighting to control the panic.
Archer smiled at her. 'Is everything all right?'
She found her voice. 'Get away from me.'
Archer looked puzzled. 'What are you talking about?'
'I know what you did. So just stay away from me.'
'I've got no idea what you're talking about. I haven't done anything.'
'Last night . . .'
'Last night was your idea. You invited me back to your place, remember.'
Kate shook her head angrily. 'You're not going to get away with this.'
'Get away with what? I didn't do anything.'
'You're lying.'
'Nothing happened, Kate. We both got drunk, you suggested I stay over. We slept together, but nothing happened, if that's what you're worried about.'
Kate desperately wanted to believe him, but knew that something was wrong, something was definitely wrong. She knew her own body, didn't she? 'Then why can't I remember?'
Archer smiled at her, genuinely amused. 'You were absolutely paralytic, Kate. It's not unusual.'
Kate stepped closer to him, she wanted to knock the arrogant smirk off his cocky face. She wanted to hurt him, really hurt him. 'You're not going to get away with it, you sick pervert!' Archer grabbed both of her arms and she struggled furiously but his grip was like a vice. She looked up at him with livid eyes, her face contorted in fury. 'Let me go now, or I swear you will regret it!'
He pushed her away, the thin veneer of urbanity stripped from his face now as he sneered, 'What makes you think I'd want something like you?'
Kate slapped him hard across his face and went to slap him again but he caught her hand. 'Let go of my hand!' she yelled at him, red-faced with fury.
'You heard the lady.'
Archer released his grip on her and turned round to see a man looking at him impassively, scant inches away, a young woman standing behind him. The man was easily Archer's height, but had a few years on him and Archer was in far better physical shape. He poked the stranger in the chest. 'Back off, sunshine, and take your little friend with you. This is none of your business.'
Delaney punched him in the face. A hard straight punch to the bridge of his nose. So fast Archer didn't even see it coming. He gasped out in pain and dropped to his knees, completely taken aback. 'You've broken my fucking nose.' Blood was spilling from his nose on to his hands.
Delaney turned back round to speak to Kate but she was already striding towards her car, her scarf of many colours flapping behind her long, curly hair like a sexy Doctor Who. Roy, from the burger van, would have approved, Delaney reckoned. He walked up to her as Kate got in her car, slammed the door shut and kicked over the engine.
'Kate!'
But she was gone, her wheels spinning, throwing up gravel like tiny shrapnel as she accelerated to the exit.
Archer was still whimpering, incredulous. 'You broke my fucking nose.'
Delaney ignored him, 'Come on, Sally.' He walked across the car park to their car.
DC Cartwright looked down at Archer who was staring at the blood on his hands in shock and utter disbelief. 'I'd get a plaster for that if I were you. They should have one in there.'
She jerked her thumb towards the hospital entrance and walked after Delaney.
Sally Cartwright adjusted the rear-view mirror watching the man Delaney had decked as he hobbled, clearly in pain, to the hospital entrance, a bloody handkerchief held to his nose. She turned the ignition key and looked across at Delaney, a slight frown creasing her neatly shaped eyebrows. 'Seat belt, sir.'
Delaney rolled his eyes and pulled his seat belt across, snapping it into place. 'Just drive, will you, Constable?'
'Sir.'
She slipped the clutch out and pulled the car smoothly out of the exit; no gravel flew behind them as she indicated left and headed towards the south part of Hampstead Heath.
After driving in silence for a couple of minutes she flicked a glance at her boss. 'What was all that about, do you reckon, sir?'
'I have absolutely no idea, Sally.'
'She seemed pretty upset.'
'Yup.'
'Do you think he'll make a complaint against you?'
'He doesn't know who I am.' Delaney shrugged and went back to staring out the window. Sally raised an eyebrow again and concentrated on the road ahead.
When he was sure the detective constable wasn't looking, Delaney rubbed his left hand over his right knuckles and winced. He had no idea what was going on with the man he had punched, or what he had to do with Kate. He had probably broken the man's nose who, after all, was right, it had been none of his business. It had felt good though, for all the wrong reasons. It had been a morning of frustrations, getting so close to discovering the identity of his wife's killers, only to be thwarted at the final hurdle. And he wasn't so unaware as to not realise he still had issues with Kate Walker. He had punched the man half out of anger, half out of a desire to impress her. He had told Kate that he didn't have room in his life for her, and it was true. He had too many unresolved matters to set straight. But if he had no room in his life for her, then why was there such a great hole in it?
Kate Walker's hands were still shaking as she slipped the gear into fourth and stepped on the accelerator pedal. Shaking, she realised, with shock and anger. Of all the people in the world she didn't want knowing about last night and what had happened to her, it was Jack Delaney. What on earth was the man doing there, for God's sake? It was bad enough that he had humiliated her yesterday, broke her heart and made her so depressed that she went to chase her blues away with vodka. If it hadn't been for him she would never have gone to the Holly Bush, would never have let a complete stranger chat her up at the bar. She wasn't a student, she wasn't a silly young girl who didn't know any better and didn't realise the dangers. In fact, she knew the dangers better than most, but had still let the man under her guard. Just like she had let Delaney under her guard, and look what had happened there. And, of course, he just had to be there when she confronted Paul Archer, making a fool of herself. She slammed the palm of her hand down hard on her horn, the hooter blaring out loudly and causing the cyclist she was overtaking to wobble dangerously to the side of the road.
She fought to calm her anger, steady the adrenalin coursing through her veins. But the truth was she was getting angrier by the minute. She had seen it in Paul Archer's eyes. He was amused. He was mocking her. There was a cold chill in those eyes. He had raped her. She absolutely believed it now. Believed it with a cold certainty in the heart of her soul. But she had absolutely no idea what she was going to do about it.