65
Lying on a thin mattress on the far side of the room I watch the girl sleeping. She whimpers in her dreams, rocking her head from side to side. My Chloe used to do that when she had a nightmare.
I get up and cross the floor. The dream has taken hold. Her body heaves beneath the quilt as she fights to get away. My hand reaches out and I touch her arm. She stops whimpering. I go back to my mattress.
Later, she wakes properly and sits up, peering into the darkness. She’s looking for me.
‘Are you there?’
I don’t answer.
‘Talk to me, please.’
‘What do you want?’
‘I want to go home.’
‘Go back to sleep.’
‘I can’t.’
‘What was your nightmare about?’
‘I didn’t have a nightmare.’
‘Yes, you did. You were moaning.’
‘I don’t remember.’
She turns her face to the closed curtains. Light is leaking around the edges. I can make out more of her features. I have ruined her hair but it will grow back again.
‘Am I a long way from home?’ she asks.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean in miles. Is it a long way?’
‘No.’
‘Could I make it if I walked all day?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘You could let me go and I could walk home. I wouldn’t tell anyone where you live. I wouldn’t know how to find it again.’
I move across the room and turn on a bedside lamp. Shadows run away. I hear a sound from outside. I hold a finger to my lips.
‘I didn’t hear anything,’ she says.
In the distance I hear a dog bark.
‘Maybe it was the dog.’
‘Yes.’
‘I have to go to the toilet. Please don’t watch me.’
‘I’ll turn my back.’
‘You could go outside.’
‘Is that what you want?’
‘Yes.’
I leave the bedroom and stand on the landing. I can hear her shuffling across the floor and the tinkle of her urine in the bowl.
She’s finished. I knock on the door.
‘Can I come back in?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘I had an accident.’
I push open the door. She is standing in the bathroom, trying to dab a dark stain from the crotch of her jeans.
‘You should take them off. I’ll dry them.’
‘That’s OK.’
‘I’ll get you something else to wear.’
‘I don’t want to take them off.’
‘You can’t stay in wet jeans.’
I leave her and look in the main bedroom, which has built-in wardrobes and chests of drawers. The trousers and sweaters are too big for her. I find a white bathrobe on a hanger. It belongs to a hotel. Even a rich Arab isn’t beyond stealing a hotel robe. Maybe that’s why he’s so rich.
I bring it back. I have to unchain her feet so she can pull off her jeans. She makes me leave the room.
‘The window is locked. You can’t escape,’ I tell her.
‘I won’t.’
I listen at the door until she tells me I can come back in. The bathrobe is too big for her, falling past her knees to her ankles. I take her jeans and wash them in the sink. There is no hot water. The boiler has been turned off. Twisting the jeans into a coil, I wring out the water and hang them over the back of a chair.
I can feel her watching me.
‘Did you really kill Darcy’s mother?’
It’s a nervous question.
‘She jumped.’
‘Did you tell her to jump?’
‘Could someone make you jump?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think so.’
‘Well, I guess you’re safe.’
Rummaging in my backpack, I take out a small can of pears and open it with a tin opener.
‘Here. You should eat something.’
She takes the can and eats the slippery pieces of fruit, sucking the juice from her fingers.
‘Be careful. The edges are sharp.’
Lifting the can to her lips she drinks the juice, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Then she leans back, wrapping the robe around her. The sky is growing brighter outside. She can see more of the room.
‘Are you going to kill me?’
‘Is that what you think?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her bottom lip is bitten.
It’s my turn to ask a question. ‘Would you kill me if you had the chance?’
She frowns. There are twin creases above the bridge of her nose. ‘I don’t think I could.’
‘What if I was threatening your family- your mother or your father or your sister- would you kill me then?’
‘I don’t know how.’
‘What if you had a gun?’
‘Maybe. I guess.’
‘So we’re not so different, you and me. We’ll both kill if the circumstances are right. You’ll kill me and I’ll kill you.’
A tear squeezes silently from the corner of her eye.
‘I have to go out again in a little while.’
‘Don’t leave.’
‘I won’t be long.’
‘I don’t like being alone.’
‘I have to chain your feet again.’
‘Don’t cover my face.’
‘Just your mouth.’
I rip a length of masking tape from the spool.
‘I heard you before,’ she says, before I can cover her mouth. ‘You were doing this to someone else.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I heard you pulling tape from a spool thing like this one. You were downstairs.’
‘You heard that.’
‘Yes. Is there someone else here?’
‘You ask too many questions.’
I push the loop of the padlock until the chains on her ankles are secure.
‘I’m going to trust you again not to take this tape off your mouth. If you disappoint me, I will put the hose back down your throat and cover your head. Do you understand?’
She nods.
I put a large square of tape across her mouth. Her eyes are brimming now. She slides sideways down the wall until she’s lying curled up on the mattress. I cannot see her face any more.
66
The handset rattles on the desk. I glance through the glass partition at Oliver Rabb and William Greene. Oliver nods.
‘Hello.’
‘Good morning, Joe, did you sleep well?’
Gideon is calling from a car. I can hear the road drumming beneath the tyres and the sound of the engine.
‘Where’s Julianne?’
‘Don’t tell me you’ve lost her. How careless- losing a wife and a daughter in less than twenty-four hours. It must be some sort of record.’
‘It’s not so unusual,’ I tell him. ‘You lost yours.’
He falls silent. I don’t think he appreciates the comparison.
‘Let me talk to Julianne.’
‘No. She’s sleeping. What a great fuck she is, Joe. I think she really appreciated getting banged by a real man instead of a retard like you. She went off like a string of firecrackers, especially when I shoved my thumb up her arse. I’m going to do her again later. Maybe I’ll do them both together, mother and daughter.
‘Charlie has been a very good girl. Obedient. Subservient. You’d be proud of her. Every time I look at her I go all warm and fuzzy inside. Do you know she whimpers the way a lover does when she sleeps? Have you found my wife and daughter?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where are they?’
‘On their way.’
‘Wrong answer.’
‘I talked to Chloe this morning. She’s a bright girl. She had a question for you.’
He hesitates. Oliver and William Greene are crouched over their laptops. Dozens of police units are in place across Bristol and two helicopters are in the air. I look at my watch. We’ve been talking for three minutes.
‘What question?’ asks Gideon.
‘She wants to know about her cat, Tinkle. I think she said it was short for Tinkerbell. She asked if Tinkle was OK. She hopes you left her with the Hahns to look after. She said the Hahns had a farm next door.’
Gideon’s breathing has altered slightly. I have his full attention. Through an earpiece, I listen to Oliver Rabb’s progress.
[‘We got a powerful level of seven dBm. The signal strength is eighteen decibels higher than the next nearest tower. The handset is less than a hundred and fifty metres away from the base station…’]