Approaching Zero (21 page)

“How was the film last night?”

“I did not go,” Suri answered. “You should have this back,” she continued and held out the twenty pound note.

“Don’t be daft,” Kathy told her, pushing her hand back. “But where did you go?”

“I just walked. It was good to see this town, Kathy, and it was nice night.”

“My God! You need to be more careful that that, Suri. You’re precious.”

This made Suri beam her smile again and her blushes intensified.

“The safety of the children of this town and the whole of the Midlands is going to depend on you. Which reminds me… you did it, you know. Stephen Howes is actually dead.”

“I know.”

The certainty in her voice embarrassed Kathy a little and she realised that her words had been a confession of the doubt she felt about Suri’s abilities so she quickly carried on talking. “We have lots of work to do, Suri, but today is our day,” she assured her and an hour later they were in Kathy’s Mini heading into town to pick up supplies. An hour after that, Suri was in possession of a few pairs of jeans and tops, underwear, a nighty and a jacket, and they were on their way home again. Kathy had also bought her a tablet so she could watch TV without using her laptop. Suri was still too overwhelmed about this to comment, but all trace of whatever had been dwelling underneath Suri’s smile had passed. Kathy’s hangover, however, had dug its heels in and the sun daggers infiltrating the windscreen were almost too much to bear. Beside her, Suri was excitedly rooting through her bags and chattering, back to being the amiable, chirpy young thing that Kathy had picked up from the airport just a few days before.

“I had top like this at home,” she told Kathy. “My father bought it for my birthday. My father is fisherman and bring fish to the old and needy. He bought me a red top also. I loved that top. And a video of
Grease
.”

“Sorry to interrupt you, Suri, but do you mind awfully of we do the cinema and shopping another day? You’ve got money if you want to go on your own or pop out and get some chips.”

“Yes, thank you, Kathy,” she answered and they were both silent for the remainder of the journey home.

Chapter 20

The following morning, and in fact every morning for the next week, started the same as the one before and the one before that—the robe, the tea, the laptop, which Kathy was pleased to be the sole user of once again. The only factor giving this particular morning colour was the fact that as soon as Kathy switched on the laptop, Brady’s Skype icon was flashing. She set the computer onto the coffee table and opened the curtains behind her, which she realised had remained closed for quite a few days now. She then looked around to see if there was anything else that Brady would make comment on and when she was happy, she clicked and Brady’s face appeared with the familiar non-descript undergrowth behind her, dressed in combats.

“Hey! Kathy monster! How’s it going?” When they were both on form it would be difficult to separate Brady and Suri in the cheerful stakes. “The face is looking better. You don’t look like a battered housewife anymore.”

Kathy felt her cheek and smiled when she realised that it wasn’t giving her pain anymore. She had skipped out on inspecting herself in the mirror again and also still hadn’t straightened her hair as she had promised. She knew that this was not the kind of thing that Brady would pick up on, though—her hair was a great big fuzzy mess that would take over the world if she didn’t keep it firmly tied back. She had no time for cosmetics and other girly things, spending as she did, her life in uniform.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to chat. How’s Suri getting on? She’s lovely, isn’t she? Are you getting on? Has she told you about what happened here, poor thing?”

“If you stop talking for five seconds, I might be able to tell you.” Kathy leaned in closer and said, “She bloody did it, Brady. Can you believe it?”

“What? Already?”

Kathy nodded, sat back, and folded her arms.

“She’s settling in okay, though, isn’t she?”

“Didn’t you hear me? Do you know what this means? We can end it all, Brady. No more running perverts over with the bike.”

“God, it doesn’t seem real. I don’t think I can take it in, Kathy.”

“Well, it’s real. And we’re going to work on the list starting today until there’s not one pervert left on it. We will be approaching zero faster than we thought. We don’t need to know who’s behind the missing kids if we wipe every one of the bastards out.” She chose not to tell her what Suri had told her about the dead children and was thankful that she didn’t press her for an update.

“I’ll drink to that,” she said and took a slug of her water flask. “She is settling in okay though, isn’t she? I promised her folks.”

“She hasn’t had much of a chance. You wouldn’t believe what’s been happening here, Brade.” She went on to tell her about the tenth abduction and how Suri had set a fire in Miles Denver’s pants, A&E and how Miles had caught her in the act of liberating Joshy.

“Why the hell did you go there on your own?” Brady asked but then turned to a voice behind her and said, “Two minutes… I’ll be two sodding minutes okay.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? Would you rather I left him there?”

“I don’t think that’s the point, Kath.”

“You’d have done the same. You know you would. But you’d be cool enough not to get clobbered.”

“No, I would have called this Spinoza bloke.”

“Aren’t you pleased?” Kathy huffed, sitting forward again.

“Of course I am. It’s one less scumbag for the list. And the little boy was okay?”

“Yup,” Kathy said proudly.

“Well all’s well that ends well, I suppose. And don’t think I didn’t notice the twinkle in your eye at the word Spinoza.”

“Shut up!” But Kathy couldn’t keep the smile from her face. However she did or didn’t feel about Spinoza it was fun to be linked to someone and for Brady to tease her. It wasn’t something that happened often.

“Hang on! I can see right through you, missy. What have you done?”

“I was smiling. What makes you think I’ve done something?”

“Because you’re determined to spend the rest of your life with just your smells for company.”

“Wait a minute! Isn’t any of this important to you anymore, Brady? This was all about us wasn’t it, getting rid of the scum?”

“It still is, but I worry about you, Kathy.”

Kathy blew out her lips childishly and laughed in the face of her friend’s concern.

“Laugh all you like, but it’s true.”

“You’ve never worried about me before.”

“Well, I’ve seen some pretty screwed up things lately and what can I say? Life’s short.”

“Especially if you’re abducted at eight years old and killed by a pervert who thinks you’re fair game.”

“All I’m saying is that if he likes you it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to let him in.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

“It’s like talking to a traffic cone talking to you.”

This made Kathy laugh genuinely. “But you love me, really.”

Brady looked behind her again and fidgeted. “Look, I’ve got to go. By the way, my leave’s been confirmed and I’m back next Saturday afternoon, but don’t go to any bother. I’ll kip on your sofa, but I’ve got a few other ports of call if you know what I mean.” Conspiratorial smiles grew on both of their faces.

“I look forward to hearing all about it. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“But don’t go to any trouble. You know what I’m like.”

Kathy did. “Saturday.”

“Laters, chick.” And then Brady’s hair filled the screen as she leaned into the camera and reached down to end the call.

Kathy watched the black screen for a few minutes and then slammed the lid shut. The call had stirred something in her. She was accusing Brady of not appreciating the power they had now, the kind of magical power that they had dreamt of since they were kids, and what was she doing with it? This was the kind of power that had featured in their play when they were running around in the woods with sticks for swords and even cycling at speed down hills together; there was always a storyline involving a bad man, even if it went unspoken. And then there was the time with the envelope Brady got from the warmonger mag; Joseph Talbot—wasn’t he just an extension of this storyline? Malcolm Scott; her list. Hadn’t she been crying out for the power to wipe out this scum her whole life? She had accused Brady of not appreciating the gravity of having Suri’s power at their disposal and what was she doing? She looked down at her watch. Suri could have worked her way through half of her list by now and it wasn’t even lunchtime. Suddenly she was on her feet and shouting up from the bottom of the stairs. “Suri! Time to get up. We have work to do.”

Nothing.

“Suri! Come on! Everyone has to work in this world. It’s time to clock in.” She then sat herself back in the living room and could hear a gentle stirring above her. She took her list from the coffee table and thumbed through the pages. The excitement was still with her as she realised she was now holding a catalogue of death and was actually shopping through to see to which of these monsters’ doors she would prefer to bring the reaper first. “George Sweeney,” she said and read his profile. He had been released from prison and put in a safe house after sexually assaulting four children. The sight of his face on the picture, smoking, smiling, strolling along in sunglasses as if he was a boss, made shivers crawl up and down her arms. 

Suri appeared in the doorway in the nighty Kathy had bought the day before. She hadn’t noticed it at the time, but it was clearly for a child—Dora the Explorer. She seemed to remember now that Suri was most excited about this item. She was a funny little thing. She had gone to bed early the night before with her tablet and it was a safe bet that she was up most of the night watching films. Her hair was raggedy and unwashed and she had the kind of bags under her eyes usually connected to middle age. Despite this, she had a massive smile on her face.

“You will not believe, Kathy. The films I have seen. I love it.”

“Hmm!” Kathy looked the young girl up and down. “I think we’re going to need to start thinking about a curfew for you.”

“What is curfew?”

“You’ll find out tonight. And I’m going to run you a bath, freshen you up. And then we can work.”

“I can work first,” Suri beamed and looked down at the list, open on the sofa. She took the few steps across the length of the room and turned her head to read the upside down writing. “This one? George Sweeney?”

“Erm…”

“It is okay.” Suri sat on the sofa and slid the book onto her lap and just as she had done before, she adjusted her posture, laid her hand on the photo and closed her eyes. A few moments passed and the low hum rattled out of her body. “It is done,” she smiled after and calmly walked past Kathy. “I will make bath,” she added and Kathy was alone again—just like that. Kathy’s hand raked through her hair as she stood there looking between the open list and the empty doorway. He was dead? Just like that? She tried to imagine it—George Sweeney was sitting on the loo at work reading the paper—it would be fitting for the bastard to die on the toilet when his nose starts bleeding. He doesn’t even have time to stem the flow before his brain short circuits—some kind of haemorrhageand his skull is fried. Or maybe he’s driving, his mind full of filth, and he loses control of the car, which skids under a lorry, taking with it the top portion of the car with George Sweeney’s perverted head landing on the back seat. There was something infuriating about not knowing and she thought about following Suri, but she didn’t want her to think she was doubting her abilities. She had to keep her onside. But it just didn’t feel… it didn’t feel… She didn’t know what it did or didn’t feel, so she stopped trying to put her finger on it and dropped onto the sofa again. She took the list onto her lap, took a final look at George Sweeney’s smug face and smiled. He was dead; that was all she needed to know. She didn’t need to be the one putting herself in hospital to keep this one off the streets.

And this was the shape that the week moulded itself around. Neither Kathy nor Suri particularly left the house but for food, and Suri couldn’t be persuaded to take an evening stroll in the dark. But although they were in the same house, they spent little time in each other’s company, Suri preferring the company of her new tablet in Kathy’s grandmother’s room and Kathy happy to accept this as it left her free to work. It was the perfect relationship. By Wednesday, Suri had eliminated a total of six names from the list and the evidence was beginning to show in the news. George Sweeney had sadly choked on a ham sandwich while on his way to the dentist. There had been one electrocution, two heart attacks, and one freakish dog attack incident that had landed a known porn peddler in hospital, but Suri assured Kathy that an infection would eventually finish him off. And of course there was no suspicion because people died. That was the way life worked. No one had to look for an underlying cause when people were electrocuted, attacked by a dog or choked—they were sad events but they happened. The fact that they all shared the same dirty secret was a connection that would be impossible to make because not all of them had been caught for their crimes and death is indiscriminate anyway. Six paedos can waddle off the mortal plain just as readily as six grannies or six paragliders. With this thought, it was after number six that Kathy wondered why they were approaching the task by tentatively approaching zero in a list of hundreds. Would anyone really make the connection if hundreds rather than six paedophiles all pegged out at the same moment? She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before and ran up the stairs with the list under her arm. They could annihilate the list and then it would all be over. Well, it wouldn’t all be over, but—Kathy had to take a deep breath to even contemplate it—she could walk around freely: no smells, no invasion of perversity. More importantly, the children of the Midlands could walk around freely, their innocence protected. They could find somewhere for Suri to live and they could get together maybe once every six months to get rid of any new candidates, but the Midlands would become known as a kind of Bermuda Triangle for paedophiles and although nothing could ever be proven, word would spread through their disgusting underground networks and it would become no man’s land.