‘I’m not going to be part of your celebrity meltdown, Michael. You can go down if you want to. But you’re not taking me with you. I’ve come too far and worked too hard for that.’
He sighed once more, let his hands drop. ‘Look,’ he said, voice full of reconciliation, ‘we have to work together on this. Not fight each other. There’s a way out. I’m sure of it.’
Dee didn’t reply.
‘Listen,’ he said, ‘I’ve spoken to some of our contacts on the force. Asked them about this DS James woman. And they all say we’ve got nothing to worry about.’
‘Really.’
‘Yes, really. She’s an alky. Doesn’t know if she’s coming or going. Incompetent.’
‘She didn’t seem that incompetent a couple of hours ago.’
‘It’s her sidekick you’ve got to watch out for. He’s the sharp one.’ Michael put his head back, thinking. ‘And he hasn’t seen me.’
‘So?’
‘So there’s only her word for what I look like. The man she spoke to. We can work with that. We can handle her.’
Dee was staring straight ahead. In the room but lost to her thoughts. She was thinking, plotting, strategising. She had done this for years. And she always came up with something. A way out, a way forward. Ever since …
Her eyes came back into focus. She looked at Michael. Calmly, levelly. Then she spoke.
‘She has to go.’
Michael blinked. ‘What?’
‘She has to go.’
‘Yeah, but … she’s a police officer. We can’t just … get rid of her.’
‘Why not?’ Her voice was light, inconsequential, as if she was discussing buying a new ornament or painting the room. ‘We did it with Hibbert. Very cleverly. Very carefully. He won’t be traced back to us.’
‘Yeah, but … she’s a police officer … They’re untouchable.’
‘No they’re not. We just do it differently. Not be crude and obvious, like Hibbert. And not with the Golem. We have to be more subtle.’
‘But … ’
‘We have to. And we will.’
Michael said nothing. Ran his hands through his hair once more.
Dee stood up. Crossed the room. Stood over him. He looked up to her as she spoke. ‘This is damage limitation. It has to be done.’
‘But—’
‘And if you won’t do it, I will.’
He stared up at her.
‘An accident, I think,’ said Dee. ‘No. A disappearance. We could do this one together.’ She climbed on top of him, one leg at either side. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Us both … getting our hands dirty … together … ’
He felt his erection spring up as soon as her body rested on his. She always had this effect on him.
Always.
And he loved it.
‘Helen Hibbert is already lined up. So what’s the difference? We do another one at the same time … ’
She unzipped her velour top, peeled it off. Michael watched as she did so. Then she took off her T-shirt, pulled it over her head. She stared down at him, eyes locked. Reached behind her, unclasped her bra. Let it fall.
‘I’ll do it without you,’ she said.
He swallowed. Hard. ‘No, I’ll … I’ll do it … with you … ’
She smiled. ‘Good.’
And pulled her hand back, let it go. Slapping his face. Hard.
He stared up at her, the pain setting off explosions all over his body, his erection straining for release.
‘Are you with me?’ She was breathing heavily.
‘Yes … yes, I’m with you … ’
‘Good.’
She hit him again. Harder this time.
And he loved her for it.
67
Tyrell stared at the gun. It was a handgun, an automatic. He knew that much. Dull silver, heavy-looking. He stared right down the barrel, into that small round black hole that could kill him at any second. Fascinated but repelled.
Tyrell hated guns. Always had. But he knew how mesmerising they were.
He held Josephina close, clutched the little girl tight to his side. Looked at the woman holding the automatic. A thought crossed his mind.
‘I don’t know your name.’
She frowned, taken aback by the question. Tyrell said nothing, waited for her to speak, to move.
‘Amy,’ she said.
‘Is that really your name?’
‘It’ll do.’
‘You said I know you. I don’t know anybody called Amy.’
‘No. You don’t. Now.’ She looked directly into Tyrell’s eyes, ignoring Josephina. ‘We’re in a situation here. A bad situation. And the only way out, the only way to get what we want, is to keep our nerve. Isn’t it?’
Tyrell said nothing.
‘It’s not to go to the police, or do anything like that. Is it, Tyrell?’
He still didn’t reply.
Amy swung the gun on to Josephina, stuck it in her face. The girl screamed. Tried to burrow into Tyrell’s leg. He clutched her all the harder.
‘I asked you a question.’
‘No … ’ said Tyrell, not entirely sure what she had said but guessing what answer she wanted to hear.
‘Good. That’s better. Do what I tell you and you’ll be fine. Both of you.’
Tyrell felt Josephina clinging to him. He looked down the barrel of the gun again. Knew what had to be done. Knew he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t do the right thing.
‘No,’ he said.
Amy stared at him, eyes narrowing, darkening. ‘What?’
‘I said no. I’m not going to do what you say.’ He looked down at Josephina. ‘We’re not going to do what you say.’
Amy moved forward, still holding the gun on him, her finger curling round the trigger.
Tyrell backed away, the little girl with him. ‘Just let Josephina go,’ he said, wishing he felt as confident as he was trying to sound. ‘Let her go. Back to her mother.’
‘We still want her mother.’
‘No. No we don’t. I’ve been thinking. Let her go.’
‘We still need her … ’ Amy was starting to breathe heavily, her voice becoming more ragged, more angry.
‘Just forget it,’ Tyrell said. ‘Forget everything. Let Josephina go. I’ll say you didn’t do any harm. You didn’t mean it. That it was all an accident. A … a misunderstanding.’
‘And what about you?’ Amy’s voice was now dangerously low, calm. ‘What will you do?’
‘I’ll go back inside. I know that. And I’m prepared. I don’t care. In fact I’d prefer it, really.’
Amy lunged at him. Tyrell never saw her coming, she moved so quickly. Josephina screamed, let go of his leg, ran away. Amy pushed the gun in his face. He felt the cold metal against his cheek, felt it knock painfully against his teeth as she pushed it into his flesh.
He looked into her eyes. Saw madness.
And something else.
He had seen those eyes before …
‘The recognition of friends is not always easy, Doctor … ’ Tyrell managed to say against the barrel of the gun.
Amy pulled away from him, stared. Eyes wide, like she had just seen a ghost. ‘What? What did you just say?’
‘The recognition of friends is not always easy, Doctor.’
‘Why did you say that? Why?’ She waved the gun about in front of him. He thought she meant to aim it at him, but her hand was too unsteady. He was worried it could go off at any time, hit Josephina. He looked round tried to find the girl. Couldn’t see her.
‘Why?’ Amy was almost shouting now.
‘It’s what … him. The dead man. Jiminy Cricket. He said it to me when he picked me up. I think he thought it should mean something. He said a few things like that.’
Amy seemed to relent. The hand holding the gun dropped a little. She seemed suddenly tired. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Right.’