Sandro nodded, moved away from her. ‘OK. But don’t worry. I’ve got you, sis. We’re good.’
She squeezed his hand. Gave another nod.
They got out of the car. Made their way cautiously but quickly towards the house.
114
‘What’s so funny?’ asked Dee.
Amy shook her head. ‘Nothing. Nothing.’ She laughed again, as if she had just heard a great joke and was savouring the punchline.
Despite the reassuring presence of the Golem at her side, the laughter was starting to unnerve Dee. ‘I said, what’s so funny?’ she asked again, her voice louder, higher this time.
Amy straightened up. Retrained the gun on Dee. ‘You are.’
‘Me.’
‘Yes. You. You’re so sure of yourself, aren’t you? Always right. And even if you’re not, you’ve got enough money to convince everyone that you are. My money.’
Dee said nothing. Just waited. Let her say her piece, she thought. Then the Golem can deal with her and we can be gone.
‘So,’ said Amy, circling the gun, looking down the sights, smiling still, ‘what d’you think you’re going to do now?’
‘Me?’ said Dee. ‘Nothing. Not a thing.’ She gestured with her thumb towards the Golem, who had moved close beside her. Almost behind her. ‘He is.’
Amy kept the smile on her face, the gun pointed. She looked like she was struggling not to laugh.
Mad bitch, thought Dee. Time to finish this. ‘We can’t have you around any longer. Making accusations. Planning and plotting against us. Getting in the way … We’ve had enough. Time for it to stop.’
Amy giggled. It infuriated Dee.
‘You played a long game this time. And it failed. There’s no prize for second place.’
‘Oh,’ said Amy, ‘you’re so right. So right.’ She moved her attention from Dee to the Golem. Addressed him directly. ‘Remember our agreement?’ she said, her eyes suddenly unclouded by madness, just vicious, businesslike. ‘The money? The shares?’
The Golem nodded.
‘Good. Get on with it.’
Dee felt the Golem’s hand encircle her throat. She had no time to shout out, to plead for mercy. She had no time to prepare herself for death.
He snapped.
She only had time to die.
115
Marina and Sandro walked towards the house, the mist parting with their footsteps. Whatever front door had once been there had fallen off and was rotting away. Marina stepped over the threshold, stopped. Listened. Heard creaking, groaning. Heard the river water sloshing round the foundations of the house, lapping away at it.
And something else. Faint and muffled. Small screams. Small hands hitting something.
Marina gasped. ‘Josie … ’
She made to run inside the house. Sandro stopped her. Marina glared at him, tried to shake off his grip.
‘Wait,’ he said, voice a hissed whisper. ‘The cars outside, remember? We don’t know who’s here. Let’s go carefully.’
The words didn’t penetrate. All she could hear was her daughter’s screams. She shook Sandro off and ran into the house.
She found herself in a central hall, huge, tall, a rotting staircase in the centre. She looked round, tried to get her eyes accustomed to the change in darkness. Saw movement, a light coming from a room off to her left. Ran towards it.
And found herself in what must have once been the living room. There was a woman lying on the floor, unmoving. Standing over her was one of the biggest men she had ever seen. And standing opposite, a naked, bald woman holding a gun.
The woman looked up from the body on the floor, stared at her. Marina took her in. She was like a female version of Frankenstein’s monster. A patchwork person. Marina flinched at the sight of her, but didn’t stop moving forward.
‘Where’s my daughter, bitch?’ She moved right up to the ruined woman.
The woman looked at her. Smiled. ‘Dr Esposito, I presume?’
Marina stopped. Looked at her. ‘You’re the one, aren’t you? You took my daughter … ’
The woman looked over Marina’s shoulder. ‘Golem … ’
Marina felt movement behind her. Smelt something rank, Decomposition and corruption to match the smell of the house itself. She turned. The man mountain was moving towards her. She had time to notice him. His skin was grey. Like a dead person. Filthy, bloodied bandages were hanging off his arms. She saw glistening wounds beneath. He smiled.
And stopped moving. Turned.
‘Hey, mate … ’
Sandro had tapped him on the shoulder. He took advantage of the Golem not moving. Swung a punch at him.
The Golem, eyes full of surprise, tottered, slipped. Sandro followed up with another punch. The Golem went down on one knee, a look of surprise on his face.
Sandro looked at Marina. ‘I’ve got this. Go on.’
Marina turned back to the woman before her. Made her hand into a fist. Put everything she could behind it. All the pain, anguish, heartache of the past few days. And the rage, the silent screams she had wanted to release but had been unable to. Everything. And let it fly.
Her knuckles stung, her arm shook from the reverberation of the impact. She might have done serious damage to her hand, but she didn’t care.
The punch had connected with the woman’s jaw, spun her head backwards, her body following. She had let go of the gun in her hand, sending it flying across the room, and stumbled to her knees. Marina bent down, picked her up by her chin. There was blood all round her mouth. She made a kind of strangled growl as Marina pulled at her.
‘Where … is … my … daughter?’
The woman smiled. Blood glistening on her teeth. ‘Feel better for that? Won’t help you … because it … it doesn’t matter any more … ’
Marina pulled back her hand to slap her face but stopped. The woman was staring up at her, madness dancing in her eyes. ‘Where is she? Tell me … ’
The woman laughed. You can’t talk to me like that. I’m … I’m Dee Sloane … ’
Marina knew she would get nothing more from the woman. She was enjoying Marina’s pain. Instead she turned round, scanned the room, tried to tune out what was before her, listened for sounds of her daughter.
She heard them. Faint but unmistakable. Screams. Pounding. ‘Josie … ’
She dropped the woman who called herself Dee Sloane. Let her crumple to the floor.
116
Sandro was aware of Marina leaving the room. But he didn’t let his concentration slip, didn’t take his eyes off his opponent. Golem? Was that what the insane woman had called him? Whatever or whoever he was, he was there to be beaten. But it wouldn’t be easy.
The Golem looked at him, smiled. Advanced. He looked like he was going to relish the fight. Sandro hated those kinds of opponents. He always just wanted to get it over with. Put the other guy down as hard and as fast as possible. Win. And that was what he planned to do here.
‘You not hurt me,’ said the Golem. ‘I Superman … ’
Oh God, thought Sandro. Chatty and mental. Just what I need.
He squared up to the man mountain before him. The lack of sleep, the exhaustion of the previous few hours slipped away from him. The adrenalin high he had been on when he stepped into the ring hours ago kicked in once more. He brought his fists up, his system pumping. Felt that familiar bodily engine revving. It always kicked in. Like he was a car, speedy and powerful, one that couldn’t wait for the brake to be slipped so he could see how far he could get and how fast he could go.
And something else. Something that was always there. In every fight, in every aspect of every day of his life.