Sleeping Cruelty (35 page)

‘It must have been tough harbouring such deep resentment for so many years.’

She was silent for a few moments, then plucked a clean tissue from the box. He could not take his eyes off her hands as they shredded it. ‘I never slept a single night without thinking about you. In the end it became second nature, like a ritual.’

‘Sleeping cruelty,’ he said softly.

‘You deserved all you got. Maybe you always were a queer. Maybe that’s why you doted on that boy Maynard. You certainly made a big fool of yourself over him.’

William understood it all now. Suddenly he didn’t feel any anger towards Angela any more, only sympathy and guilt. Guilt because he had cared for her, and never loved her.

‘To begin with my husband always wanted to please me, but gradually I saw through him; I was just a useful appendage. I was afraid he would leave me and take James. It wasn’t till I discovered how to control him that I got the upper hand. He was terrified that someone would turn the tables on him. If I divorced him and threatened to feed dirt about him to his competitors he would have been devastated. And believe you me there was plenty of dirt. If you think your little forays with prostitutes made headlines, you should have seen what my beloved husband got up to! He didn’t write the articles about you himself, of course, he’s above all that now. My husband’s only interested in circulation – or money. Rather like you. As I said before, you two are very similar.’

‘And you fed him all the inside information about my life to create one scandal after another? My wives, my children?’

‘Correct.’ She smirked. ‘I had always followed your career, William, and your marriages. For God’s sake, you even invited me to your first wedding. Can you imagine what that did to me?’

He wanted to explain why he had never loved her or any other woman, but there was no point now.

She looked at the boy in the bed. ‘Perhaps now I will have to pay for it.’ She was silent again for a moment. ‘Why are we here? I didn’t want to come, nor did Humphrey. But he changed his mind. Did you organize this? Did you find out it was me?’ she asked softly. She turned to him. ‘Did you want me here to hurt me again? Well, if my son is the price, you’ve won the game. But I don’t understand. I believed you never gave me a second thought.’

‘I never did,’ William said quietly. He hesitated before he continued. ‘What do you know about Laura Chalmers?’ he asked. ‘And her brother, Justin Chalmers?’

‘Nothing! Why should I?’

William hooked the back of the spare chair and drew it to the bed to sit next to her. ‘Has your husband ever discussed either of them with you?’

‘He’s never even mentioned them. Neither of us ever met them before we came here. Why do you ask?’

Before she could respond, James began to moan. As they leaned over him, he opened his eyes.

‘Oh, thank God, thank God,’ Angela wept.

William rang for a nurse, then looked back at the weeping mother caressing her son’s face. ‘I’m here, darling. Mummy’s here, my love. You are going to be all right, I’m here.’

James shut his eyes again. ‘I know you are, I’ve been listening to you two. I just didn’t have the strength to tell you to shut the fuck up! I’ve got to play cricket and I must find my pads,’ he said feverishly, trying to sit up.

The heart monitor began bleeping at an alarming rate, and a doctor and nurse hurried in. Angela looked terrified and the doctor asked her to leave, but she hovered at her son’s bedside.

‘Is he going to be all right?’ she gasped, and repeated the question over and over as she sat beside William in the corridor outside James’s room.

Half an hour later the doctor came out. He said they had given James something to calm him down, and he would sleep for a few hours. Angela went back to his bedside.

‘We found not only cocaine in his body but also heroin and Ecstasy,’ the doctor said to William. ‘I’ve had three other Ecstasy cases in the last month. One didn’t recover, one had irreversible brain damage, the other’s back with his family, showing little or no side-effects. Earlier this year we had a young boy dead on arrival.’

‘Oliver Bellingham?’ William asked.

The doctor gave a brief nod. His other patients had been local kids, and William felt the man’s undercurrent of anger.

‘Do the police know who’s dealing it?’ asked William, with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The doctor was already moving off. ‘If your son recovers, I suggest you ask him who he bought the tablets from. Nothing I say makes the slightest difference to the police. Perhaps they’ll listen to someone with your wealth!’

William did not correct the doctor with regard to James. Perhaps if he had known he was not related, he would not have been so forthcoming.

‘He thought you were his father,’ Angela said, bitterly shaking her head. ‘How incongruous. If you knew how I longed to be pregnant by you, longed for your child, then prayed that you would marry me. Now here we are praying for my son to live. But he’s not yours. I want my husband here, William. Please try to find him – at least do that for me.’

He walked outside, hoping to God the police would get to Matlock in time – not for Angela or for James, but to save Justin from committing another murder. He called the island, only to be told the fishing-boat had not yet returned. William wanted to walk away from the wretched Angela, and he worried about Justin, but he went back into the hospital to sit with her. It was the least he could do.

*

Matlock’s big hands were clasped around his knees. They had been anchored for a while, and the boat was rocking gently. ‘Please, I’m begging you, turn back,’ he said quietly to Justin.

‘We can’t turn back, Matlock, because I haven’t finished,’ he replied.

Matlock tried to stand up. To his horror he couldn’t. His legs felt like lead, his head throbbed and he started to panic.

‘Fix you another?’ Justin held up a clean glass.

Matlock looked up, and his vision blurred. ‘What the hell have you given me?’ His voice was thick.

‘What they used to pump into Laura. Largactyl it’s called. Just so you know what it feels like. Remember, she was only a little girl.’ Justin delved into his pockets and took out one newspaper cutting after another, waving them in front of Matlock’s face. ‘How much did they pay you for these? Or did they pay you more to write a good headline? How much did you earn for “Devil’s Children”?’ he screamed.

Sweat dripped down Matlock’s back as he fought to keep his eyes open. His tongue felt as though it was swelling and filling his mouth. His ears were ringing and buzzing, his heart thudding, and he had lost control of his limbs. It was a living nightmare.

‘And the book.
Angels or Devils
!’ Justin prodded Matlock’s chest with it. ‘I’m going to make you eat every word you say you never wrote.
Liar!
’

He gripped Matlock’s jaw, prised open his mouth and stuffed in newspaper cuttings and pages of the book. Matlock was trying to breathe. He felt as if he was dying.

A siren was wailing, growing louder, closer.

Justin looked down at Matlock. The man looked like a rag doll; in his dead eyes he saw the reflection of his own face, a devil’s mask of rage.

Justin had his hand on the lever to pull up the anchor when the coastguard’s launch came alongside. A man was yelling through a megaphone: ‘Prepare to board!’

‘No!’ Justin screamed, dragging at the lever.

Then he realized he wouldn’t be able to stop them. He moved back to Matlock. ‘It isn’t over. You hear me? It isn’t over.’

Matlock tried to stand, but slumped back on the deck. He tried again, clawing at the sides of the boat.

‘You got a Humphrey Matlock on board?’ the officer shouted.

‘Yeah, what’s up?’ Justin called back.

‘We got an emergency. He’s wanted back on Tortola. We’re coming aboard.’

‘He’s drunk!’

Matlock clung to the railing and tried to steady himself. He swayed towards the officer’s voice, but the boat rocked and he lurched to the side, toppled over and fell into the dangerous water between the boats.

Seconds later, he surfaced, his arms held out for help. But the swell dragged him under. He surfaced again and was thrown back towards the launch. His head cracked open and blood streamed down his face.

Justin uncoiled a rope from one of the capstans and threw it into the water a good six feet from the struggling man. The officers also threw ropes and life-belts, but Matlock was still grappling with the water. Justin pulled off his shirt, shouted directions for the coastguard to move away, then dived into the sea. He swam underwater for a few seconds, resurfaced, then took a deep breath and went under again. He found Matlock easily. The man’s eyes were open, his legs hardly moving, arms splayed wide. He was sinking and a small stream of bubbles drifted from his mouth. Justin swam beneath him, took hold of his foot and dragged him down. Then he surfaced, gasping for breath.

‘I got him,’ he shouted, holding up one hand for the rope. He caught it, took a breath and went down again. He found Matlock and held him down until the last faint stream of bubbles ceased. Then he looped the rope beneath Matlock’s arms, swam up and signalled for the men to pull.

Gradually Matlock’s body inched out of the water. His head lolled on his chest. The officers hauled him to the deck and tried to resuscitate him. One gave him the kiss of life, but something was blocking Matlock’s airway. The coastguard stuck his fingers down the man’s throat and pulled out a sodden piece of newspaper. It was an article with the headline ‘Devil’s Children’.

Chapter Twenty-One

W
illiam had sent out one of the orderlies for some coffee and sandwiches, which he now looked at with distaste. Angela, however, sipped her coffee, rocking backwards and forwards on her seat.

‘What did you hope to gain by getting us over here?’ she asked. William said nothing. ‘Oh, come along, there must have been some ulterior motive, knowing you.’

‘It was your husband I wanted,’ William replied wearily.

‘Good God, why?’ she asked.

‘I wanted to humiliate him, make him a social outcast, like he did to me.’

‘Really? And how were you going to do that?’

‘Catch him in the act, with his trousers down, photograph him.’ He told her about the hidden cameras and the way the island had been set up. ‘Laura and Justin agreed to give me explicit footage of your husband, the Baron and Baroness, the Hangerfords, every guest in fact, including their children.’ He sighed and stood up. ‘I know it all sounds petty, but for a while I was unbalanced. It seemed everyone was against me and I contemplated suicide. Everything in my life had turned sour, and you’ll be amused to know that even making money had lost its appeal. I have never known such loneliness.’

Angela put down her cup. All she could think of was her lovemaking with Laura. ‘You have all the rooms fitted out with hidden cameras?’ she said.

‘Yes.’ William flushed. ‘Only now I see it wasn’t really set up for me at all.’

Angela tried to make sense of what he had just said, but all she could think of was the video of her. What would her husband say when he found out? ‘Were you going to blackmail us?’ she asked.

‘It had nothing to do with money. I simply wanted everyone who had made me feel like a worthless piece of shit to know what it felt like. If I chose to, I would be able to make headlines in every paper, especially with your husband being who he is. Can you imagine what his competitors would have done to get their hands on a single photograph? They would have had a field-day with it.’ William took a deep breath. ‘Now I know that what was really going on was a lot more devious and dangerous than anything I could have dreamed up.’

‘What do you mean?’ Her chest felt tight.

‘It’s Laura and Justin Chalmers. This is their revenge.’

Angela was now very scared. ‘Why should they want revenge?’

William took out his wallet and passed her some newspaper cuttings. ‘Because of these. Read them for yourself. Most importantly, see the name of the young journalist. Your husband built his reputation on the exposure of those two poor kids.’

Angela began reading, then looked at William. ‘This can’t be the reason, for God’s sake! These are years old. And if Humphrey had anything to do with this, don’t you think he would have remembered them?’

‘He obviously didn’t. As you said, it was a very long time ago, more than twenty years. Why should someone like him remember? They were probably just a step up the ladder. He must have hurt a lot more on his way to the top.’

‘Like you,’ she snapped, and he turned on her, his face pale with anger.

Before he could reply, a nurse tapped lightly on the door and peered in. ‘May I speak with you for a moment, Sir William?’ she said, and held the door ajar.

William got up and walked out. In the hospital corridor she told him to call the coastguard station immediately.

Laura was growing impatient. There was still no word from Justin and it was now after two. She had been down to the jetty three times. She knew Matlock would be drugged by now and that Justin should be returning for the final part of the game. She was worried that, if they left it any longer, she and Max would not get away. She had forced herself not to go to him, but had occupied herself with her packing, her obsessive method of laying a sheet of tissue paper between each garment, tucking it into sleeves and around collars. Now her case was ready. They would soon be together.

At four, she saw the fishing-boat return and hurried down to the quayside. Justin stepped off the boat alone.

‘Where is he?’

Justin hooked his arm around her. ‘You want the good news or the bad?’

‘What happened, Justin? Don’t play games with me. You said twelve thirty. I’ve been waiting and waiting,’ she said.

Justin withdrew his arm. ‘What the hell has got into you lately, huh? You’re so impatient.’

‘I’m sorry, but I’ve been here all by myself.’

‘William’s back,’ Justin said flatly.

‘Where’s Matlock?’

‘Probably on his way to see William.’ Justin laughed, reached into one of the cool boxes near the edge of the quay and opened a can of Coke. ‘I just wish I’d had a camera because it was worth seeing. But at the same time there was nothing I could do. William contacted the goddamned coastguards to take Matlock off the boat to go and see his son in the hospital.’ Justin gulped the Coke and burped. ‘Well, dear Humphrey will be in hospital now,
close to his beloved son. You should have seen it – he was all bloated and green in the face—’

‘Is he dead?’

‘Yes, and I’m sorry. I know what it meant for you to be in at the kill but it just couldn’t be helped. I had to do it myself.’

‘So, it’s over,’ she said softly. She hugged her slender body and snorted with laughter.

‘Yes, he’s gone. They’re all gone, all the bad people, darling, all gone.’

Laura gave a soft sob, and spread her arms wide. ‘I feel like I could fly now it’s all over.’

‘I guess it is, bar the diamonds,’ he said, moving close to her and rubbing her neck.

Laura looked at her watch. Four fifteen: only two hours to go before she could escape. She had never felt so in control of herself. ‘When is William going to show up?’

His hand felt warm and comforting but Laura winced as he gripped her tightly. ‘I dunno – but I’m starving. You want to grab a bite to eat with me?’ He nuzzled her and kissed her softly, but laid his hand firmly on her neck.

‘No, I’ll stay here.’

She inched away from him but Justin drew her closer. This time he kissed her mouth, then broke away and withdrew his hand. ‘We’ll leave this place soon and go back to the villa. I’ve missed Marta, missed our home.’

‘Me too,’ she said. Justin was all hands, touching her, needing her. He wouldn’t leave her alone. He cupped her face and kissed her lips again. She felt as if she was suffocating.

‘We’ll be able to live easy now. I’m sorry about you not being there, but maybe it’s for the best – it looked accidental. And with old Willy back, you know what a fuss-pot he is . . . Still, he’ll have some exhilarating home movies to watch.’

She held him tightly. ‘I love you, Justin, I always will.’

He stepped away from her and looked at her. The way she had said ‘I love you’ hadn’t sounded right. It was as if she had
been saying it for the last time. ‘And I love you, Laura, and only you, always. We’ll always be together, won’t we?’

She nodded. ‘Nothing will ever come between us. Whatever happens.’

His eyes narrowed. He could feel how tense she was, and his concern deepened. ‘Maybe you should lie down. Have you been taking your medicine? I mean, do you think you need it?’

‘I’m fine, just . . .’ She plucked at her skirt. ‘Maybe you’re right. I’ll go and lie down. Join you later.’

Angela had been given a sedative, but was adamant she would accompany William to identify her husband’s body. He suggested that to keep the media at bay they tell no one until the body was ready to be flown back to England. There would be an inquest and the usual documentation to deal with, all of which William promised to handle. At first he was shaken when he heard of Matlock’s death, then afraid to ask for details: he was so sure he had been murdered. When the police told him it was an accident, he was relieved. When they said Justin had risked his life trying to save Matlock, he was puzzled, but then even more relieved because he must have been wrong about him . . . and he hoped desperately that he had been.

William’s speedboat arrived at Tortola stacked with the Matlocks’ cases and a neatly packed envelope containing their passports and money from the private safe in their suite. Angela’s jewels were in a small leather case, guarded by one of the boat-boys who handed it separately to William. He arranged for all the luggage to be delivered to the hotel he had booked for Angela. When he slumped into the boat to return to the island, he was in need of a shower, a change of clothes and a good night’s sleep. But he doubted if he’d be getting any sleep for a while. He knew he was going to have to face both Justin and Laura.

Justin strolled into Laura’s room, where he found her lying on the bed.

‘“Why so pale and wan, fond lover?”’ he quoted, throwing himself on the bed beside her. ‘It’s odd, isn’t it? Now that we’ve done it, somehow it’s unsatisfying.’

Laura sighed, and Justin rolled on top of her, tickling her. She tried to move away from him.

‘Diamonds, diamonds, diamonds . . .’ he said, with a wide grin. He pulled her close and tickled her again. She couldn’t stop him; it was the way it had been ever since they were children. He began mimicking Matlock’s death scene, plunging off the bed on to the floor, swimming on the carpet. He mimed coming up for air, clinging to the sheet as if it was the edge of the boat, wailing as he fell back.

They laughed until they were exhausted, then lay wrapped in each other’s arms. She started to cry and he rocked her back and forth as if she was a baby, making soft sounds to calm her. Then he started to sing. He loved it when she sang with him.

Max had put away the windsurfer, and now strolled to his room to fetch his case. There was an hour to go. He wandered round the house. It was strangely quiet when no one was about.

‘Justin?’ he called. He stood in the large empty hall, and his eyed drifted to a door he’d frequently seen Justin disappear through. The office, he supposed. ‘Justin?’ he called again. No reply.

He entered some sort of control room – it was full of switches and a great panel like you saw in documentaries about rock-stars. Amused, Max sat at the main desk and pressed a button. A monitor overhead flickered and came on. Max discovered he was watching some porn film. But the girl looked familiar. The man had his back to camera and she was sucking him off. God, it couldn’t be? It was! Clarissa Hangerford and Justin!

Max didn’t like being a voyeur. He stabbed at another button; the VCR stopped, and the monitor flicked to what looked like security mode. The screen showed the front hall. Max pressed the button again. His parents’ bedroom! Again. The sauna! This
was fun. He wondered whether his own room was included. The dining room, the swimming-pool, the jetty, another bedroom, and another, and another. He flicked again, then flicked back. The last bedroom had people in it: Laura and Justin lying on a big double bed.

‘We did it,’ said Justin, throwing his head back against the pillow. ‘We got every single one of those motherfuckers.’ He turned to face his sister. ‘Tonight, Laura, we’ll dance. I want you to wear that gold dress.’

Laura smiled. She had a faraway look. Max knew it was because she would not be dancing with Justin that night but in his own arms speeding away from this place for ever. ‘It was fun killing him, sweet one, I wish you could have seen how cleverly I did it. I pulled him down into the water, and they all thought I was trying to save him. Really I should get an Oscar.’

Laura faced her brother. First he’d mimed it all, now he seemed to want to go over every detail again. ‘Justin,’ said Laura, ‘you’re not kidding me, are you? He is dead, isn’t he?’

‘Would I lie to you?’

She stroked his head. ‘You lie to everyone else. Maybe you would. You know how much it means to me, and now with Angela and James not here, he might just have gone to join them.’

Max leaned in close to the screen. His heart was beating rapidly.

Justin nodded sombrely. ‘Would I lie to you? Jesus, how can you even think for a second I would lie about something as important as this? For Christ’s sake, he’s dead, and the others are ruined.’ He wrapped Laura tighter in his arms. ‘Oh, sweetness, I’ve missed lying in bed with you, holding you in my arms. Believe me, I never lie to you, you are the centre of my universe.’ He leaned on his elbow, tracing her face with one finger. ‘Just as you’d never lie to me. Right?’

She gave a small smile, as he moved his index finger across her perfect lips.

‘But I’ve been jealous of Max. I admit it. For some stupid reason I thought that maybe you really did care for him. I’m glad I was mistaken,’ said Justin. ‘I understand it now. Max was just part of the scam, wasn’t he? He never meant anything else to you?’

Laura shook her head. ‘Of course not,’ she said, her lips only an inch away from her brother’s. ‘The only man I have ever loved is you.’

They kissed, at first almost innocently, then the kiss became deeper and more prolonged.

Max gasped. His breath felt as if it had been squeezed from his lungs and his heart felt as though it was jumping out of his chest. He ran out of the office, out of the house, out into the oncoming dusk. His body felt as if it was on fire. He hurt inside so much that he couldn’t get the sight of Justin with Laura out of his mind.

William’s stomach churned as the boat crashed over a wave; the sea always got rougher as they headed inshore towards the island. He stretched, then stood up in the boat to admire his paradise as they approached. This evening it looked glorious, with the sun sinking into the horizon and all the outside lights twinkling, making the island appear like a magical mirage. He moved closer to the rails and took deep gulping breaths. It made him feel better: all the anxiety and emotional strain of the day were blown out of him. He was glad to be coming home, and once he’d said that word in his mind, he knew it
was
his home. This was where he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

He had a future he wanted to live his own way, without any interference or guilt. He knew now that it was linked to Justin, because none of what he saw or felt would have existed without him. Now he acknowledged the effect this man, this wild crazy boy, had over him. Never before had he craved to see someone, or felt his belly churn with anticipation at the prospect
of being close to somebody. His heart fluttered and he laughed. He would never have believed it was true.