Mary's Prayer (18 page)

He stood in the freezing cold and the pouring rain. The Tyne was slapping angrily at the soaked wooden jetty on which he stood,
all weather-eaten and mossed, its banks perilously close to breaking. He was in the shadows, looking out. He could hear the
occasional car passing overhead, see right along the waterfront. Directly in front of him was the Tyne Bridge, with the floating
nightclub moored beneath it; tonight it’s half-hearted disco lights seemed to cast a depressing pall on the mud-grey water.
On the other side of the river the bars and buildings were in darkness; the last straggling Sunday drinkers had gone home
hours ago.

He had figured that Cain would have set up a meet with his boss that night, after the drop; he’d wanted to find out the time
and the place. It hadn’t been easy. The hardest part had been promising to help Cain, coaxing him into supplying the information
– then walking away, leaving him there, his trapped howls piercing Larkin’s soul. He’d got the information, though. Half past
midnight, the jetty underneath the Swing Bridge. How ironic.

Informing Moir had been a different matter altogether. He had put a call out over the air via Moir’s car radio, telling Moir
where Cain was and that he needed urgent medical attention. He’d then appropriated Moir’s car for the final time – in for
a penny, in for a pound – and driven to the rendezvous.

Now he stared at the water, tried to keep warm by
stamping his feet. The pain was slowly seeping back into his body as the last of the chemicals dispersed. It was twenty-five
to one. He didn’t think he’d have to wait much longer.

As if on cue, he heard movement on the steps above him. Someone had swung over the rail and was coming down. Whoever it was
walked straight out onto the exposed part of the jetty as Larkin emerged from the shadows.

‘Hello, Charlotte.’

She turned. Surprise, terror and disbelief all crowded onto her face at once. She was dressed, bizarrely, for a rainy day
in the country. ‘What … what …’ she began.

‘What am I doing here? Is that what you’re trying to ask?’

She stared dumbly.

‘Were you expecting someone else?’ Again, silence. ‘Look, Charlotte, I’ve got it all sussed. You don’t have to pretend anymore.’

She considered her options, then realised she had no choice. ‘Where’s Cain?’

‘He’s … incapacitated.’

‘Have the police got him?’

‘Probably, by now. Or the hospital.’

‘Why? What happened to him?’

‘A car fell on him.’

Her jaw dropped.

‘Oh, I’m pretty certain he’s not dead – but you’ll find he’s a changed person. Very much so.’

She sighed. ‘I suppose this is it, then. It’s all over.’

‘Looks like it.’

There was so much that Larkin wanted to say to her, it hurt. Half of him – more than half – wanted to grab her, tell her that
everything was going to be all right again, that they would be together and the future would be filled with love. But freezing
on the jetty, in the pouring rain, all he could manage was, ‘Remember the last time we were here?’

The slightest flicker of a smile crossed her features. ‘Yes.’

‘We were very drunk.’

‘You tried to throw me over.’

‘You started it!’

‘I didn’t! You did.’

Even at a moment like this, they could look back at the past with affection. But this was no time for nostalgia. Larkin looked
into her eyes; they were red and sore, as if she’d been crying. He didn’t want to ask the next question but he knew he had
to.

‘Where’s Charles?’

She paused. ‘He’s – actually, he’s dead.’

That came as no surprise to Larkin. ‘What happened?’

She looked straight at him, her eyes wide. He still wanted to drown in them. ‘I killed him.’

Even though he had been expecting it, it still cut him; he tried not to let it show. ‘I figured that.’

‘How much else did you work out?’

‘A fair bit.’

‘D’you want me to tell you all of it?’ Her eyes flickered away, then back again.

‘No, I’ll tell you. You can fill in the blanks.’

She looked up at him, imploring. ‘Before you say anything – don’t judge me. You’re a part of this too.’

Larkin’s physical pain had returned, and with it something deeper that stabbed him to the heart. He tried to blot it out,
but it wasn’t possible.

‘Where should I start?’ he said. ‘How about, Charles? One of Thatcher’s children. Decided to move into property in the late
eighties, lost everything in the recession. Not too bright, was he?’

Charlotte started to speak.

‘Don’t deny it. I went through his stuff at your place – it’s all there. All his debts. Including the ones he owed Lascelles,
and he’s not backward in coming forward where money’s involved. Charles needed cash, and quick. That’s why he threw in his
lot with Edgell and Danny Torrington.’

Charlotte flinched.

‘Yes,’ he continued, ‘I know about Danny Torrington. Charles had been staying with him; when Charles went off after a phone
call and didn’t come back, Danny came looking for him at your place. He wasn’t there, of course … And neither were you. Danny
and Charles were in love.’ He snorted. ‘He may have been a bastard, but at least
somebody
loved him.’

She started to say something, but he cut her off.

‘Don’t. Don’t make excuses. So how did you do it? Cain didn’t help you – he’d have told me. So how?’

She seemed to have shrunk visibly. When she spoke it was with a quiet emotionless monotone. ‘I did it. This morning, very
early. I called him, said I had something very important to tell him, something I couldn’t say over the phone. He had to come
straight away, and he couldn’t come to the house, because it wasn’t safe. The sort of thing Charles has been up to – it was
plausible enough. So I told him where to meet me, insisted that he didn’t tell – Danny.’ She put her hand to her mouth; Larkin
thought for a moment she was going to be sick. ‘So I – I lured him to his death. At the bottom of Forth Bank.’

The reality of her words hit Larkin like a blow. He swallowed. ‘Why – why there?’

‘I’d thought about it all very carefully. Forth Bank is steep and it goes straight into the Tyne. It’s a good place. And there’s
never anyone around at that time in the morning. Charles drove there and parked his car at the bottom, where I’d told him.
I rushed straight over to him. And as he opened his door, I hit him from behind with a wrench from the tool kit in the boot.
He fell backwards, into the car. I don’t think he was dead, then, but he was certainly unconscious. I hit him again, just
to make sure. I took his handbrake off, took the keys from the ignition, locked all the doors. Then I pushed the car down
the Bank, into the river. That was the hardest part, especially at first. But once it had gathered momentum it went quite
quickly. I threw the keys in after it. It was still dark.’ She looked over the water, in the direction of
Forth Bank. ‘He’s still there now, I imagine.’ When she turned back again, tears had made silent tracks down her cheeks. Larkin
chose to tell himself that it was only the rain.

‘But why? Why now?’

After a long pause, she spoke. ‘When I met Charles he was rich and successful. That made him very attractive. Like I said,
I knew he was gay, but it was a strictly business arrangement. We were useful to each other. But then he lost everything.
I was going to leave him – but he pointed out that the people who were after him for money might also decide to come after
me.’

‘Including Lascelles?’

‘Including Lascelles. Charles said our best chance was to stay together. Watch each other’s backs.’

‘So how did the drugs come into it?’

She let her eyes trail along the quayside. Absently, she noticed a white car pull up and park; the lights were turned off
and the driver got out. She turned her attention back to Larkin. ‘He started using. Coke, mainly. At first it was just because
he was depressed. Then, like a true entrepreneur, he spotted other possibilities. He saw his way out though dealing. Our way
out.’

‘So why did you kill him?’

‘Because … I’d convinced myself that what was between Charles and me was purely professional. No more. I was happy to stay
with him, while he was making money. He gave me a certain status. He was handsome. And if people want to mess up their lives
with drugs, that’s their decision. He wasn’t corrupting anyone – we’re all responsible for ourselves, and no one else.

‘And then he told me he was in love. With Danny. Not just sleeping with him – I wouldn’t have minded that – but in love!’
She gave a bitter laugh. ‘And I was
overwhelmed
with jealousy. I couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t the sex, we’d never had that – it was the power. The emotional power. I enjoyed
knowing that I had that over him. And suddenly he no longer needed me.’ Her voice became very small. ‘I couldn’t cope with
that.’

She sighed, lost within herself. Larkin waited, she continued as if retelling a dream. ‘Then I thought; if Charles was out
of the way, I could run the Newcastle end of the London firm! I knew I’d be much better at it than he ever was. And he’d become
so indiscreet – he was putting both of us in danger. So I …’ Her voice faded into silence.

Larkin stood, not trusting himself to speak. Charlotte looked at him imploringly. ‘Stephen, please – you’ve got to believe
this. Once I’d been with you again, I tried to put things right. All that mattered then was you. I thought we could start
again—’

Larkin rounded on her. ‘Don’t give me that. You set me up.’ He stared at her, merciless. ‘You were good, though. You had me
fooled. I always said you should have been a politician. I’ll tell you the rest, shall I? You told me you and Mary were great
mates, and I would be doing you a favour – you even offered to pay me, just to make it legit. You had every angle covered.
You invented Terry; you must have written the diary. All so your connection with the London firm wouldn’t be discovered by
Sir James – who you also happened to be sleeping with. A finger in every pie, eh? Sir James was the one trying to unite the
Newcastle gangs, and Cain was his enforcer. But you persuaded Cain to double-cross Lascelles and come in with you, Charles,
Edgell and Danny – controlled by the London mob. Lascelles suspected someone was trying to rip him off, so he sent Fenwick
to investigate. After that balls-up, you had to protect yourselves, so you sent me looking for a non-existent person – just
to take the heat off. Trouble was I met Torrington, who gave me a photo of Mary with Danny. I assumed he was Terry; you didn’t
argue in case I found out too much and it all got back to Lascelles. I was getting too close. I was thinking, and that surprised
you. That party I was supposed to meet you at – you never intended to go, did you? It was just a way of getting me into the
arms of Cain. And don’t say you didn’t think he’d hurt me – you knew fucking
well what he’d do. I was just something else that had got in the way of you and your ambition.’

He looked at her. She was crying, her tears flowing freely.

‘And don’t insult me by crying. Don’t make excuses. I’m right, aren’t I?’

She nodded mutely.

‘So why me? Was it just luck? I’ll bet you were rubbing your hands with glee when Larkin the Ace Fuck-Up came back on the
scene. Did you think I was so incompetent that I couldn’t hack it? Is that it?’

She looked down, not wanting to face him. ‘Something like that.’

‘That’s what you’d planned to do, wasn’t it? You were going to find a private detective – either some bloke who couldn’t find
his arse with both hands, or someone who could file reports any way you wanted for the right price – and then, suddenly, who
should appear? Me. The fuck-up. The burn-out. Your ex-lover, and drunk when you met him. What did you think it would take?
You coming on to me? Money? Whatever, your curiosity got the better of you – and that was your big mistake. Because I wasn’t
quite the mess you thought I’d be, was I?’

She was crying again now. ‘No … But that’s not the way it turned out. I fell in love with you, all over again.’

Larkin turned away in disgust. ‘Oh, fuck off, just fuck off, I don’t want to hear that crap.’

‘You’ve got to believe me, Stephen. I love you. When I saw you in the hospital, I realised what I’d done to you, what I’d
become. And then I knew. I’m telling the truth. I saw a chance for us, a way of us both being happy together, a future with
no worries. With Charles out of the way … The drugs drop tonight was it. Just one score – that was it, no more. We could have
gone away somewhere, anywhere, started again. I just had to … to get rid of my old life first.’ She grabbed him by the shoulders;
he could feel her nails through his leather jacket. ‘Stephen, you have to believe me!
Please
!’

He pulled her into his coat, comforting her. ‘Oh, Charlotte …’

He had softened, found himself talking against his better judgement. Then he realised what he was about to say. ‘How can I
believe you? How do I know you’re not lying? Not using me again?’

‘I’m not! I
swear
I’m not. I love you, Stephen.’

Larkin tried to be the iceman again. ‘You never loved anybody but yourself. You were always ambitious, always wanted to come
out on top. That’s all you were ever interested in.’

She started to cry again. ‘Yes – and look where it got me!’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

The tears stopped and were replaced by a still, small voice. ‘You read the diary. You know.’

‘What?’

‘I
did
write that diary. But it wasn’t about Mary – at least, only the beginning and the ending. It was about me.’

Larkin was stunned. ‘
You
? Then – who’s Terry?’

‘Sir James’s middle name is Terence.’

Larkin felt sick, as if he’d been punched in the stomach. ‘That gear – in the wardrobe—’

‘All mine.’

‘But why did—’

Charlotte wouldn’t let him speak. ‘You said I was ambitious. That’s no secret. But like you – like everyone – I had ideals
too. Once.’