Helen’s mind reeled. That was completely the opposite side of town to where her team were now searching.
‘She lied to us,’ Helen said, as much to herself as to Lucas. ‘Naomie deliberately sent us in the wrong direction to aid his escape.’
‘Escape?’
‘If he’s heading towards the Esplanade, then there’s only one place he’s going,’ Helen replied. ‘He’s making for the train station.’
139
Helen was on the street in under a minute. Central Station was close to their base and Helen knew that she could cut off Harris’s escape if she was quick. Gardam was calling ahead to the British Transport Police, alerting them to his movements, but something in Helen told her that wasn’t enough. Harris had been a wily adversary, capable of hiding in plain sight, and she wasn’t prepared to leave anything to chance. Trains left regularly from Central Station and there would be many possible avenues of escape if he made it that far.
Sprinting up Southern Road, she paused momentarily before throwing herself across the six lanes of Mountbatten Way. Despite the late hour it was still very busy and the trucks and cars roared past, buffeting Helen with their tail winds. Horns blared and drivers shouted, but Helen kept on going. She was making good progress and was nearly at the other side now, but as she made her final lunge towards the pavement, Helen realized she’d misjudged the speed of an oncoming van. The driver saw her and slammed on his brakes, but it was too late. A horrible screeching sound filled the air as the van skidded towards her.
At the last minute, the driver wrenched the wheel round and the van lurched violently to the left. It clipped Helen hard, sending her flying towards the pavement, before toppling over itself and sliding along the road on its side. Helen hit the concrete hard, bouncing beyond it and into the safety barrier at speed.
An odd moment of silence, of blank shock, then Helen was scrambling to her feet. Her head was swimming, a piercing noise filled her brain, but she struggled upright nevertheless. Her first instinct was to run to the van, but pausing, she turned to look at Central Station Bridge. If Harris was coming from Nicholstown, he would have to cross it to get to the station.
And there he was, turning on to the bridge and moving swiftly across it. He was only fifty feet from Helen now and she didn’t hesitate, limping into a run and heading fast away from the bemused motorists. Moving was pure agony – she had caught her knee badly and she could feel blood running down the side of her face – but she kept on going. Harris was making good progress, he was nearly halfway across, but as yet he hadn’t seen her. It was now or never.
Suddenly a gap opened up in the traffic and Helen ran across both lanes, vaulting the pedestrian fence on the other side. She landed with a bump and at that moment, Ethan Harris turned. He recognized her immediately and turned back to run across the remainder of the bridge, in the direction of the train station. But as he did so, two British Transport Police officers moved into view, cutting off his escape route.
Helen moved forward quickly, determined to capitalize on his confusion. Harris spun once more, his eyes scanning the other side of the road.
‘Don’t even think about it, Ethan,’ Helen warned as she continued her approach.
The sound of sirens was growing louder now. Perhaps they were attending the traffic accident or maybe they were coming their way – whichever it was, Helen was prepared to use them to her advantage.
‘You’re a few hundred yards from Southampton Central. We’ve got every officer on the Force heading this way right now, so do the smart thing.’
Harris looked straight at her and Helen was surprised to see that he appeared to be neither panicked nor particularly disappointed by the situation he found himself in. His mind was turning on something, Helen sensed, but what kind of calculation he was making she couldn’t say.
‘I was hoping it would be you,’ he said, casting another half-glance over his shoulder to check on the progress of the uniformed officers. ‘What did you say to me at the hospitaclass="underline" “We’ll get whoever did this to you.” ’
Helen didn’t give Harris the satisfaction of a reply.
‘But are you sure you’re ok, Helen? You look a little off.’
She must have made a pretty sight – blood clinging to the side of her face, her suit battered and torn, but she was determined not to be mocked.
‘All the better for seeing you,’ she countered, wiping the blood from her face with her sleeve. ‘But I’ll be even happier when we’re both in an interview suite.’
‘How did you know I’d be here?’ Harris asked, ignoring Helen’s suggestion.
‘Someone spotted you in Palmerston Park and, well, it’s the obvious place to head for if you need to get away but don’t own a car.’
Harris nodded but said nothing, casting another nervous glance over his shoulder. Helen took a step closer to him, but as she did so Ethan seemed to sense her movement and shifted away. There were only thirty feet between him and the other officers now – time was running out for him, but still he made no move to surrender.
‘I hope you won’t think too badly of me, Helen. I don’t think you liked your folks either, did you?’
Helen said nothing, refusing to get drawn in.
‘Doesn’t leave you with much, does it? If your own flesh and blood despise you. Funny thing is, I used to want their love at first. When they went out – as they did every night – I used to sneak out too. I used to wander the streets looking for them, hoping they’d see me, hoping they’d want me – but it never happened. So after a while I gave up looking, but I continued to walk the streets anyway. I liked the anonymity that darkness gave me. Can you understand that, Helen?’
Helen nodded and took a small step forward. There was no question that Ethan was different – with his soft, Asiatic features, shortened arm and stooped posture – but that would have been fine, Helen thought, if he’d had people who loved him for who he was. His mother clearly hadn’t realized she was pregnant – with a baby she’d never wanted – when she’d been drinking herself under the table every night. But that didn’t excuse her horrendous treatment of her own son, a son she deemed both ill-formed and unwanted. Helen refused to have sympathy for Ethan, given what he’d done, but his pure, aching loneliness struck a chord with her and inwardly she raged at his parents for their casual cruelty and selfishness. They were the true architects of this carnage.
‘I know exactly what you mean. Darkness can be a friend.’
‘I thought you’d understand. But then again you’ve suffered – the whole world knows how you’ve suffered – so perhaps you do know how I feel.’
‘It doesn’t excuse what you’ve done, Ethan. You murdered four people.’
‘If you can call them that.’
‘They were human beings. With husbands, children, friends -’
‘They were evil – all of them. Haters who thought nothing of belittling and abusing others for their own entertainment.’
‘Luke Simms was “evil”?’
‘Well, I guess you had to be there to know what it felt like – the whole school joining in with his taunts. My only regret is that Luke Simms didn’t burn with the rest of his family.’
For a moment Helen was speechless. Under the bridge a train rattled through noisily, its metal wheels grinding unpleasantly against the rails. It was the perfect accompaniment to Helen’s rising anger and anxiety.
‘Agnieszka was no better. She beat me and abused me. Thought a poor, damaged kid like me wouldn’t fight back. Did Naomie tell you I was in the room when she set that bitch on fire?’