Fear No Evil (28 page)

I packed up my tools, shoved the wrap they came in and the plastic bag into my back pocket, and ran. Yes. I ran. Big, tough police girl that I am, I legged it, as fast as I could. I had the willies, big time, and needed to get out.

I carried on muttering prayers as I left the room, and saw that prayer number one had been answered – the lift was still there, on my floor.

I jumped into the lift and banged my fist on the buttons. It still wasn’t cold in the corridor, which scored high on the relief-about-spooky-things front. In fact, I was hot – from the panic, the running, the manual labour.

Just as the lift doors closed to, I saw her. About seven or eight. Pale, wan face. Tangled brown hair, huge dark eyes. Staring at me silently.

‘Help us,’ she murmured, as the lift doors finally slid closed.

‘Oh shit!’ I shouted out loud. I knew it wasn’t really a little girl… I knew it was a trap, and that I should run, carry my treasure and disappear into the sunset. But I couldn’t. Because I’m… a complete knob, truth be told. With an overdeveloped hero complex.

Heart pounding, sweat turning chill on my face, I banged the open button. Inch by excruciatingly slow inch, the doors parted. The girl was still there. She smiled shyly up to me, and I wondered what to do – I mean, I’m not that good with human kids, never mind dead ones suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. I held out my hand, going with instinct. Touch. Warmth. Comfort. She looked so bloody cold.

‘Stupid bitch,’ she hissed, the words like a slap. ‘Stupid, stupid, idiot whore bitch cunt. Slut slag cow. Going to kill you. Bitch. Bitch. BITCH!’

Her child’s voice rose on the last word, so loud it hurt my adenoids. I was scared – who wouldn’t be? But I was also really, really pissed off.

‘Oh… just fuck off,’ I said, slamming my hand down on the buttons again. It took about three hours for the doors to close, and I sagged back against the metal-coated walls as it trollied its way to ground floor.

I still felt twitchy by the time I ran out into the sunlight, but at least I could breathe again.

I’d done it. I’d faced up to Demon Thing and escaped unharmed. And was now sitting, I realised, on my backside in the beaten-up patch of grass that passed as lawn outside Hart House, hyperventilating.

Two students, laden down with backpacks, were walking towards me, exchanging concerned looks about the crazy lady on the floor. I needed to head them off at the pass – they might be doing medicine and decide on some impromptu roadside assistance.

‘It’s okay!’ I said, smiling up at them in a way that probably did nothing to dispel the crazy lady image. ‘I’m fine!’ I sprinted in the opposite direction, running for a few minutes. It felt good, loosening up the knots and tangles in my tension-ridden body, blasting my brain with nothing more complex than the need for oxygen. I slowed and finally stopped when I neared the Shire Horse, scanning the small crowd of outdoor drinkers for Tim. I spotted his Shaggy haircut and strode over, hoping I didn’t look like a homicidal lunatic.

I handed over the key and a ten pound note, wrapped around one of my business cards.

‘Cool,’ he said. ‘We can call at the off-licence on the way. Do you want to come? It’ll be a blast.’

‘I’m sure,’ I replied. ‘But I have to get back and visit my friend in hospital. Thanks again, Tim – and take care of yourself in that place, okay?’

‘What? The party? It’s only in Sefton Park.’

‘No. In Hart House. Be careful. Call me if anything happens.’

‘You mean like crazy shit?’

‘Yeah, exactly like that,’ I said.

‘Sure. Will do. And hey – hope turtle-headed dude is okay.’

I nodded my thanks and walked away. I found a small wall on the corner of the campus and sat down. Crowds of students and staff were milling around me, bicycles criss-crossing between them and pinging their bells. I took a deep breath, and pulled the small plastic bag out of my pocket.

Time to find out a little bit more about the secret life of Geneva Connelly.

Chapter 33

I’m sure hospital waiting rooms have all seen their fair share of drama. Bad news, family arguments, death, doom and disaster. If their sickly green walls could talk, they’d have a best-seller on their hands.

But even by those standards, our row was setting new standards.

Dan had me backed right up to a wall, which wasn’t as pleasant as it sounds. I could tell from the way his fists were clenched by his side he was struggling not to pin me up against it. His blue eyes were blazing, his mouth was set in an angry line, and he was so close I could feel the heat leaping from his chest onto mine like tiny lightning strikes.

If I hadn’t been contemplating stabbing him at the time, I’d have found it all quite arousing.

‘I told you
not
to go there!’ he yelled, invading my personal space by another fraction of an inch.

‘And I told
you
that I decide what I can and can’t do!’ I screamed back. ‘Now get the fuck out of my face!’

I placed my hands flat on his chest and shoved as hard as I could, putting all my body weight behind it. I wished I had superpowers, and could send him flying across the room and crashing into the chairs. In reality, he didn’t budge, and all I gained were sore wrists.

‘It was dangerous, and you could have been killed! How could you be so bloody stupid?’

‘I’m here and I’m fine and you
really
need to back off before I lose my temper!’

My voice rose up an octave on the final word, leaving nobody within a five-mile radius in any doubt that my temper had said its final farewells some time ago. I was itching to knee him in the groin, or bite his face, or both.

People were staring at us, with bemused and hopeful expressions. They were probably seconds away from gathering round us in a circle and chanting ‘fight, fight, fight!’. I could see one of the triage nurses having words with an overweight security guard, and knew we needed to tone it down.

Well, my brain knew that. The rest of me was boiling over with fury. I’d come back to the hospital, to check on Justin and let Dan know what I’d discovered, and as soon as he twigged I’d been to Hart House, he blew up. Like a great big blonde volcano. I wanted to kill him, the arrogant, overbearing—

‘Outside, you two,’ said Betty, her face appearing over his shoulder. She laid a hand on his arm, and I saw his muscles twitch and tense, like he wanted to shake her off.

‘Now, Dan,’ she said quietly, frowning at him. He didn’t take his eyes off mine, but he did back away slightly. I started breathing again, and glanced at Betty. She was wearing a black mandarin-collared blouse and black pants and looked like a totally exhausted yoga teacher.

‘He can’t tell me what to do!’ I said. ‘He has no rights over me, and—’

‘Shut up, Jayne,’ she said, her voice almost a whisper. ‘I’m tired. I thought my friend was dying. I’ve been sitting at his hospital bed all afternoon. I. Have. Had. Enough. Now both of you, outside – this isn’t the time or place.’

I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell her where to shove it. I wanted to scream at them both to piss off home and leave me alone. But she was right.

So, for once in my life, I did as I was told. And I went outside. The weather had finally broken, and the rain was lashing down in thick, warm, almost tropical drops. All around us people were scurrying around with newspapers over their heads, caught out by a storm on a cloudless day.

Dan and Betty followed. She stood in between us, obviously ready to give us both a swift karate chop to the throat if we played up again.

‘What’s the problem?’ she asked, sounding weary and drained. The guilt that sluiced through me almost washed away my anger. Almost. One look at Dan, sitting up there on his high horse, and I felt it surging back again.

‘Him,’ I said. ‘God almighty over there. He seems to be under the misguided impression that he’s the boss of me. He’s—’

‘I told you not to go!’ he said, not quite shouting, but not quite under control either. ‘I explained how risky it was, and you ignored me. You went in there like the stupid little girl you are, and—’

‘Stop it!’ said Betty. ‘Jayne, why did you do it? You saw what happened to Sophie. What happened to Justin. Dan was right, you should have waited.’

I wanted to stay angry with Betty as well, but it was impossible. She didn’t deserve it. I looked at her, and tried to blank out Dan’s face from the corner of my vision. It’d only upset me.

‘I went because I needed to. I needed an answer to a question, and the answer was in that room. I don’t need to ask permission.’

‘No, of course you don’t,’ she replied. ‘But why didn’t you ask one of us to go with you, if it was that urgent?’

‘Because you had enough on your plates with Justin! I didn’t want to bother you!’

‘I think, just maybe, it would have bothered us a bit more if you’d ended up dead,’ she said. Well, I couldn’t argue with that. Even though I desperately wanted to.

She looked at Dan, who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring down at me. He’d been caught out by the weather as well, and his white T-shirt was now so wet it was starting to stick to his muscles in ways I still found infuriatingly interesting. Which, naturally enough, made me even more mad.

‘Dan – calm down. Jayne is a grown-up, and she made a choice. You might not agree with it, but it was her choice. And she’s here – safe and well. And a bit wet. Why are you still so angry with her?’

‘Because she could have died. It was stupid. She should have asked me for help. I would have come with her. I’d be… bothered. If anything happened to her.’

‘Okay,’ sighed Betty, screwing her eyes up and rubbing them with her fingers.

‘This is worse than dealing with my kids. Dan, Jayne didn’t ask because she thought you were too upset about Justin. That was considerate of her. And Jayne – this daft bugger here lost his rag because he cares about you. I can’t see what’s so bad about either of those motives, and I think you two need to kiss and make up. Have a wrestling match. Whatever. Just sort it. There are more important things going on here than your egos. Now I’m going back inside to see Justin. Behave yourselves – and don’t make me come out here again.’

Betty walked away, her shoulders stooped with fatigue. I felt at least some of the fight sag out of me as she went back inside the hospital.

‘Has Betty just used her mind control tricks on us?’ I said, breaking the silence. Well, one of us needed to act like an adult, and that was as close as I could get.

‘No. It was worse than that. She used common sense on us.’

He straightened up, brushed his soaked hair away from his face, and stared off into the distance. Apparently he suddenly found the black taxi rank completely fascinating.

‘Look, Jayne, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. When you told me where you’d been, I flipped. I was scared. I knew you were okay, you were standing there right in front of me looking excited, but all I heard was Hart House. And I was already upset about Justin. I don’t like feeling I’m not… protecting my people. I’m sorry.’

His people. Jeez. I didn’t know whether I loved that or hated it.

‘O-kay,’ I said. ‘Apology accepted. Apart from the bit about calling me a stupid little girl. That, I’ll never forgive you for.’

‘You’re not a little girl. I accept that. But it was stupid. You know it was, so there’s no point arguing.’

He finally tore his eyes from the cabs, and looked me up and down.

‘You’re all wet,’ he said.

I glanced down at myself. He was right. I didn’t want to imagine what my hair was doing, and my top was plastered to my boobs like a second skin. Which of course he’d noticed, being a male with a pulse. I felt my nipples perk up just a touch at the thought, making the matter even worse. Jesus. I really did need to get some.

‘So are you. It’s, you know, the rain. We should get… not wet. And I’ve got to go somewhere. In the spirit of co-operation, you can come with me if you like.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘To the seaside. We can get ice creams and you can skim stones. But first I need to see a man about a photo.’

Chapter 34

An hour later we were parked up on a street in Blundellsands, the very definition of the term ‘leafy suburb’.

The roads are unusually wide, which is ironic as all of the cars tend to be tucked away in double garages or driveways big enough to park a horse and cart in. The homes are large and dignified, and edge down to the Mersey at the point where it stops looking like a river, and starts looking like the sea.

It’s the far end of the city from the Caseys down in the south end, looped along the coastal road to Southport and beyond. Perhaps that’s why he’d chosen to make his home there. An escape from his day to day life. I’d found him. The One.

Geneva wasn’t only being romantic – she was being clever.. The photo I’d found hidden down the side of Tim’s bath had showed Geneva, happy and smiling, and snuggled up in the arms of a much older man. Simon Solitaire – the ‘One’. He’d looked happy too – if a bit nervous. Can’t say as I blamed him. If Eugene had any idea he’d been diddling his granddaughter, he’d have had him castrated and fed him the by-products.

I stared at the picture for another minute, gathering my wits together. I had to get this right. Solitaire was a professional liar. If anyone could evade the truth, he could.

‘Did you have any idea it was him?’ Dan asked, looking down at the photo. He was all dried off, and dressed in another black shirt from the back of his van, where he presumably kept an endless supply.

‘I’d like to say I did, but no. Even the nickname didn’t tip me off, when it should have done. But I am surprised. I don’t like him – he’s in the Caseys’ muck up to his neck. But when I talked to him, my twat-o-meter didn’t go off.’

‘Your twat-o-meter?’

‘Yeah. It’s a finely tuned instrument. I keep it next to my lie-o-meter and my bullshit-o-meter. Obviously needs a service. Right. Come on. Let’s do this.’

‘What do you want me to do?’ he asked as we climbed out of the car.