She sat down on the chair beside the homeless man’s bed.
‘I watched the police footage of you being booked in on Friday, Steve,’ she said. ‘I know that Steve isn’t your real name, but do you mind me calling you that?’
Steve shook his head.
‘In the footage you seemed to recognise the police surgeon who attended to you.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Doctor Laura Chilvers. She has been in to see you.’
‘The blonde lady. The angel.’
‘Yes, you called her that in the station. Why is that?’
‘I don’t know. It just came into my head. I know her, I think.’
‘Where from, Steve?’
‘I don’t know. But I can see her. And there is blood on my hands.’
His forehead furrowed as he tried to remember. ‘Did I try to kill her?’
‘You recognised her before you were attacked, Steve. At the police station.’
‘Did I want to hurt her?’
‘I don’t know.’
64
KATE WALKER FLIPPED the X-ray transparency onto the light box and clicked the switch.
She looked at the skeletal chest that was exposed and traced her finger across it.
She flicked off the light and stood there looking for a moment, contemplating.
‘Did you find what you were looking for?’ asked Dr Crabbe.
‘Yes. I think I did.’
‘Good.’
‘Maybe. I’m not so sure that it is good. Do you think he’ll make it?’
Dr Crabbe considered for a while, then shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t think he will.’
Lorraine Eddison held a paper tissue and blew her nose. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘You have nothing to be sorry for, Lorraine,’ answered Jack Delaney.
‘Yes I do.’
‘It wasn’t your fault you were attacked.’
‘I shouldn’t have been walking alone at night. I should have got a taxi. I had had too much to drink.’
‘None of that makes it your fault,’ said Sally Cartwright. ‘The man who attacked you is a sick predator.’
‘Did he rape you, Lorraine?’
‘No. But he tried to.’
‘You managed to get away?’
‘He held a knife to my side and said if I shouted out or screamed he would kill me.’
‘Just like Michael Robinson,’ said DC Cartwright.
‘I saw on the news that he had been killed.’
‘That’s right, Lorraine.’
‘But this wasn’t him. I was attacked after he was arrested.’
‘We know. We think there might be two of them. Which is why it is important you tell us exactly what happened.’
‘I told the police before.’
‘You didn’t say he tried to rape you, just that he mugged you and cut you.’
‘I didn’t see the point.’
‘What actually happened, Lorraine?’
‘He dragged me down Church Hill to the back of the theatre there.’
‘I know it.’
‘It was dark. He had me up against the wall, making out we were just kissing, he ripped my knickers off. He unzipped himself but …’
‘But what?’
‘He couldn’t get it up.’ She held a hand to her stomach. ‘Then he cut me with the knife, pushed me over and ran off.’
‘And you didn’t get a good look at him?’
‘He had a hoodie on. It was dark.’
‘But you did say he had curly hair, though.’
‘Yes.’
‘And his voice when he spoke?’
‘It wasn’t rough. Middle class more like.’
‘Educated?’
‘Yes.’
Delaney and Sally Cartwright exchanged a look.
‘What is it?’ asked Lorraine Eddison.
65
LAURA CHILVERS SAT at the corner of the bar in The Pig and Whistle, the local pub the police mainly favoured, a short stroll from the White City Police Station. She lifted a glass with a large measure of Pastis in it, tilted her head back and downed it in one. She held the glass out to the tall woman behind the bar. ‘Same again please. A little water this time.’
The barmaid handed her a refill and put a small jug of water on the counter. Laura poured a splash in her glass and took a sip. Most offices in London were closed for the weekend, but there were still a large number of civilians in the bar, which was unusual for that time of day. Especially on a Sunday. But Laura figured there were enough workers and shoppers in town to keep all the pubs busy. She had suggested The Pig and Whistle as she thought it would be quiet. Most police workers coming off shift would be heading home for Sunday dinner. At least there was no loud music playing and mobile phone use was actively discouraged. She tuned out the chat that was buzzing around her and stared at the cloudy liquid in her glass. Fifteen minutes later the glass had been refilled, although she couldn’t remember ordering another, and a hand fell on her shoulder. She was startled, then surprised.
‘Oh. It’s you,’ she said.
Emma Halliday leaned back in the car seat and yawned. ‘So what made you transfer out of special ops back into CID?’ she asked Tony Hamilton.
The DI shrugged. ‘Special ops is a good word. Felt more like army than the police. Not really why I joined up. I found it was taking up more and more time, especially with the cutbacks, so I was doing more of that than the detective work that I enjoyed.’
‘So why apply for it in the first place?’
Tony flashed her a quick grin. ‘I like a challenge. What about you?’
‘What about me?’
‘Why’d you sign up?’
‘I had a thing for men in uniforms.’
‘Really?’
‘What do you think, genius?’
‘I think you’re pretty smart and wanted a challenge too.’
‘I came from a long line of policemen. Pretty much all I wanted to do.’
She leaned back and closed her eyes. Tony looked over at her for a moment or two, a half smile playing on his lips.
Kate Walker took the change from the lady behind the bar and sat on the stool next to Laura Chilvers.
She took a sip of her soda and lime and stared at her colleague for a moment without speaking.
‘What?’ snapped Laura finally.
‘Bible Steve.’
‘What about him? Has something happened?’
‘You knew him, didn’t you? He said you did, and he was right.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘I looked at the CCTV footage from that night, Laura. You knew him and you were covering for something. You then went out and got so blind drunk on drugs and booze that you thought you’d been raped.’
‘Well I wasn’t.’
‘You sure of that? You’ve got your memory back? Seems Bible Steve’s amnesia is catching.’
‘You’re not very funny, Kate.’
‘I’m not trying to be. Something’s going on, Laura. I want to know what it is.’
‘You’ve been living with the Irishman too long, Doctor Walker. You’re not a detective.’
‘Bible Steve recognised you.’
‘He was paralytic. He could barely stand up, let alone know who he was talking to.’
‘And yet you said he was fit to be charged and released?’
‘Can you cut me some slack here? All right, I was keen to get off. You know that. I had a hot date. Somebody special, maybe the one. Might be I dropped the ball a little with Bible Steve.’
‘And your date can back this up, can she?’
‘What are you talking about?’
Kate stared at her colleague’s still-bruised knuckles. ‘What happened to your hand?’