‘Sorry.’ He felt himself blushing. ‘I just … You don’t look like you’ve been roughing it all night, that’s all. You look fresh. Alert. You look … good.’ Eyes facing front all the time he spoke.
A smile crept around the corners of Anni’s mouth. ‘Thank you.’
He shrugged, mumbled, ‘Welcome.’
‘The things you can do with concealer.’
Mickey said nothing more. Put the radio on. Anni settled down into the seat, smiling to herself.
It took them the best part of an hour to reach the hotel near Braintree that Marina had last been spotted at. The two uniforms were waiting for them. Mickey parked up. He and Anni went into reception.
‘She just ran,’ said the first constable, Alison Irwin. ‘We tried to stop her, talk to her, but … ’ A shrug. ‘Tom tried to flag the car down.’ She indicated her partner, who nodded.
‘She just drove round me,’ Tom Crown, the other uniform, said.
Anni crossed to the receptionist. Questioned her too. She had nothing much to add.
‘Apparently she hid from us in a supply cupboard,’ said Tom Crown. ‘Told the maid she was hiding from an abusive husband.’
‘Inventive,’ said Anni.
They went to the car park, traced the path Marina had taken. They went up to her room to see if she had left a clue behind, anything to show where she was going, what she was doing. Nothing.
‘We’ve put the registration number of her car out as a general alert,’ said Alison Irwin, ‘but we’ve had nothing back yet.’
They thanked the uniforms for their help, went back to the car.
‘Where to now?’ asked Anni.
‘Maybe we should head back to base,’ said Mickey. ‘See if there’s been any more sightings of her car.’
‘You mean my car.’
‘Sorry. Your car.’
They drove away from the hotel. Anni looked at Mickey this time.
‘So I’m still looking good, am I?’
Mickey glanced at her, frowned, shifted his eyes back to the road. ‘Yeah. Why?’ Suspicion in his tone.
‘Just wondered. I heard that this DS from Suffolk’s been giving you the glad eye, that’s all.’
‘What, you mean Jessie?’
‘Oh, it’s Jessie, is it?’
‘Yeah, Jessie James.’ Mickey smiled. ‘And she says she’s heard all the jokes before.’
‘What, even the one about the Suffolk force being a bunch of cowboys?’
‘Apparently. But I don’t know if she’s been giving me the glad eye or not.’
‘OK. Just checking.’
‘Why, you jealous?’
She shrugged. ‘You know me. Not the jealous type.’
Mickey and Anni had been involved in a tentative on-and-off relationship for the last few months. They had been out a few times, dinner, cinema, drinks, but neither had wanted to be the one to push it further. They were good friends, excellent work colleagues. And they were worried they could lose all that.
Anni’s phone rang. Relieved at the break, she answered it. Milhouse, the unit’s resident computer expert. Milhouse wasn’t his real name, but with his thick glasses and studious demeanour, he bore such a strong resemblance to the character in The Simpsons that that was what everyone called him. Even his girlfriend, probably. If he had a girlfriend. Which Anni doubted.
‘Got a lead for you,’ he said.
Anni took out her notepad. ‘When and where?’
‘Shell garage in Marks Tey. Marina’s debit card’s been used.’
‘We’re on our way.’
‘I’ll phone ahead,’ said Milhouse. ‘Get them to line up any CCTV footage they’ve got.’
‘Brilliant. Thanks, Milhouse.’ She rang off.
‘What’s occurring?’ said Mickey.
Anni told him.
‘Let’s go, then. Not far from here.’
The radio continued to spew out top-forty hits in between the DJ’s banal inanities.
They drove on in silence.
38
The Golem enjoyed being in the car. The doors were locked and there was a metal and glass barrier between him and the rest of the world. And he was going forward. Heading towards something.
Even if that something involved someone else’s death.
In the car, he could tune out everything else. Centre himself. Meditate while moving.
He drove a Prius. And took a small delight in the fact that it confounded expectations. It was not the car of an assassin, but that was what he liked about it. It was both anonymous and environmentally friendly. That was good, because when he died, he wanted to leave as little trace of himself behind as possible. Like a footprint in damp sand, washed away by the incoming tide. The way it should be.
That was what he tried to achieve with his victims. There one second, gone the next. Simple and clean, like switching off a light.
He knew that one day it would happen to him. And he was ready for it. Every day he prepared for death, either to give it or take it. And every day that he gave it and didn’t take it he gave thanks.
But one day it would be him.
One day.
He was also pleased to get away from the Sloanes. They had been regular employers over the years. They paid what he asked and their assignments were not too taxing. They would have been good employers if not for the sister. She was getting to him. And he didn’t allow that. Something would have to be done about her. One way or the other.
Jaywick was signposted left. He turned left.
He drove. He was centred, prepared.
He was ready.
39
Marina followed the sat nav, her foot hard down as far as she dared. On the way to Jaywick. On the way to meet her daughter.
She had insisted that that was part of the deal. The voice hadn’t been too pleased. ‘After you’ve seen … ’ it nearly said a name, ‘your patient.’
‘Look.’ Marina kept her own voice as calm, as reasonable as she could. ‘I’ve already told you I’ll see your patient. I’ve agreed to that. But we’re negotiating here. And I won’t talk to him until I’ve seen my daughter and know that she’s safe.’
‘No,’ said the voice. ‘We’re not negotiating. You’re going to do what you’ve agreed to do and then you’ll get her back.’
Marina wanted to scream, to rage. If they had been there in front of her, she would have attacked. But she swallowed that down, kept her voice calm, controlled. She knew she would only get somewhere if she behaved like a professional. ‘No,’ she said, in as measured and slow a tone as she could manage, ‘this is a negotiation. You’ve told me what you want me to do. And I’ve agreed to do it. But that agreement comes with certain conditions attached. I want to see my daughter. If you won’t do that, then I go to the police and tell them everything.’
‘What’ll happen to your daughter then?’
Again Marina had to control herself until she was sure she could speak without screaming. ‘You’ll let her go. Because there would no reason for you to keep her. You’ve explained your plan to me. And without my help, there will be no plan.’
There was silence on the line. Marina waited. She was suddenly aware that she was shaking. She wished she felt as strong as she had made herself sound. She wondered if she had gone too far. If they didn’t go along with her proposal, she might never see Josephina again. She knew now what was at stake. She guessed that if they were desperate enough to kidnap her daughter to make this work, they wouldn’t stop there.
‘All right,’ the voice said. Anger and defeat in its tone. ‘You can see her. But then you do what we want. And you don’t get her back until you’ve done it. Right?’
She felt a wave of relief wash over her. ‘Thank you. Just make sure she’s safe.’