Speak No Evil (36 page)

He is silent. All she can hear is his breathing.

She waits. Says nothing.

‘I'll be in touch. When I've got something I want you to listen to.'

The phone goes dead in her hand.

‘Tom? Tom?' She redials, can't get through. She throws the phone down on the sofa, stares at it.

‘Oh no … oh no …'

28

Donovan was behind the wheel of the Scimitar, pushing it as hard as he could, on the way to the west side of the city, to Scotswood. He had heard the whole conversation, Amar having patched it through to his earpiece. Beside him in the passenger seat, Flemyng kept trying to talk. Donovan kept ignoring him.

‘Thank you,' said Flemyng. ‘For the chance to help, I mean.'

‘Fine.'

‘I mean, it's good of you. I really appreciate it. And I do want to help.'

‘Good.'

‘You see, I don't think I've got … once something like this gets out, and it will get out, I'm sure of it, I've got nothing to go back to. I'll lose my job, that's for certain. I'll be ostracized. And I've done so well recently. Kept my, you know, in check …'

Donovan barely looked at him when he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road ahead, his hands on the Scimitar's steering wheel. ‘Listen, Flemyng, whether your friends won't talk to you any more because you like shagging kids and the university won't want you near students is not top of my list of priorities at the moment. I've got more important things to worry about.'

‘Fine. Sorry. Right. It's just that …' He sighed. ‘You don't know what it's like. What I have to go through. I—'

‘Flemyng?'

‘Yes?'

‘You're here on sufferance, right?'

‘Right.'

‘So shut up. And suffer. In silence.'

Flemyng fell silent. Donovan pressed a button on his earpiece. ‘How you doing, Amar? Got a better fix on the signal?'

‘Think so,' the voice said in his ear. It's the one nearest the river, when you drive up to them off the Scotswood Road. I think he may have them on the roof.'

‘That's what I thought. That thing he said about the view. Brilliant. Just what we need.'

‘Should I call Nattress?'

‘Might be worth a try.'

‘Why there, though?' said Amar. ‘Why a tower block?'

‘Because Anne Marie, aka Mae Blacklock, killed that boy Trevor Cunliffe in a partially demolished house in Scotswood. They were putting up the tower blocks at the time. This was the Sixties when they were going to be the future of architecture. Once that street was demolished, they built the Elms in its place.'

‘This Tom Haig guy's done his homework.'

‘Yeah. But he's still a prick.'

Amar gave a grim laugh. ‘I'll call Nattrass.'

Donovan kept his eyes on the road. Nearly there.

Oh Christ …' DI Diane Nattrass stood before the burning block of flats and thought: As if my night couldn't get any worse.

The fire engines had arrived and evacuation procedures implemented. It was clear which flat had been targeted and once she found out who lived there, she could guess why. If Donovan had just given her up when she'd asked. She would talk to him later, and he wouldn't enjoy it.

The firefighters had the blaze under control. Thankfully it hadn't had time to spread and was contained in one area. Everyone in the surrounding flats had been evacuated as a precaution. And luckily there had been no casualties which, given what was intended, was near miraculous.

‘Boss …'

Oh dear, she thought, I spoke too soon.

‘Boss …' DS Stone, one of the junior officers on her team, came running towards her, out of breath. ‘We've found a body,' he said, between gasps.

‘Oh God …'

‘Behind the flats. Looks like …' He paused to get his breath back. ‘Looks like he jumped Or fell.'

‘Dead?'

‘No, boss. Alive. Ambulance is there now. Paramedics trying to work out the damage.'

‘Male or female?'

‘Male.'

‘How old?'

‘Not young.'

Nattrass nodded. ‘Jesus, those …' She composed herself. ‘Thanks for letting me know. Get someone with him in case he comes round. Get a team of uniforms going round the estate. In fact, get everyone who's not doing anything to do that. I want people talking. I want whoever did this hauled in. I want an identity for that man. And quickly. And I want the fucking book thrown at whoever caused this. Make sure everyone understands that, right?'

He smiled. ‘Yes, boss.' Breath regained, he ran off.

Nattrass looked again at the blazing flats as her phone rang.

‘Nattrass.'

‘Hi,' said the voice on the other end. ‘It's Amar. Amar Miah.'

‘Good,' she said. ‘Has Joe Donovan decided he knows where Anne Marie Smeaton is?'

‘What?'

‘Is he going to hand her over to me for protection?'

‘ER … no, but—'

‘Then this conversation is over.'

She snapped the phone shut, returned it to her pocket. She was weary beyond sleep, functioning on caffeine and adrenalin. She wanted a long bath, a warm bed. She knew they were still a long way off.

Damn that bastard Donovan, she thought.

Tess Preston couldn't suppress her glee. The paper was still running with her exclusive, even if the news had been leaked by other media. But they had given her a proviso – they wanted an interview with Mae Blacklock. She had agreed, not knowing how to go about it, but determined to succeed. After all, she knew all too painfully, chances like this didn't come along too often.

The mob had scattered, naturally. Dispersed back to their ordinary lives, spending sleepless nights until morning when they had to cope with the guilt of what they had done. Tess smiled. Not bad, that line. She might use it. Alongside a little interview – anonymous, of course – of one of the angry mob. And for the good news: the police didn't have Mae Blacklock. She was in hiding, undoubtedly, but not with them. Her informants had told her. This was all good because she knew something they didn't. She knew the address of that place she saw her outside of, Albion House. She was sure Mae Blacklock was there.

She walked round the estate, keeping away from the police, watching the firefighters tackle the blaze. Collins should be around somewhere, snapping away. Despite the fact that they weren't talking, he was still a professional and knew a good story when he saw one. Didn't matter. They didn't have to like each other to work together. That wouldn't stop them getting paid. She wouldn't mind a few more pills, though. Adrenalin was keeping her going for now, staving off the comedown, but she knew it would happen eventually.

She walked away from the blaze, down a narrow, deserted alleyway. The estate didn't scare her tonight. There was too much happening, too many people around. She had summoned up courage to head to the dark heart of the estate, hoping to find someone to talk to. Flash a bit of cash, see what happened. They wouldn't hurt her. They wouldn't dare. She turned a corner, adjusted her eyes. It was very dark here, the crunching underfoot telling her that someone had taken out the streetlighting forcibly. She felt a stab of fear and hesitated, wondering who could live here. And in that instant thought about turning back.

When she was grabbed from behind.

She didn't have time to react, to turn around, even, the attack was so sudden. Her attacker was quick and ferocious. He punched Tess in the left kidney, which made her crumple at the knee, then twisted her arm so that she fell hard to the ground. Tess tried to cry out but as her body hit the glass-strewn tarmac, the wind was knocked from her and all she could do was wheeze and whisper. Once she hit the ground her attacker kicked her in the ribs. Twice. Tess clutched her side, rolled over. Her attacker bent down over her. Tess saw his face.

‘What …'

It was Renny. And he was holding a very large, fierce-looking knife.

Peta pulled up in front of the Albion offices, turned off the engine. She looked round, expecting to see Donovan's car in its usual space but it was empty. She got out, went into the building.

‘'S me!' she called out. ‘I'm back.'

No one replied. She opened the door to the main office, entered. Amar was sitting at his desk. He looked up as she entered, his face grave.

‘Where is everyone?'

Amar moved the headset away his face as he spoke to her. ‘Joe's over in Scotswood. His daughter and Anne Marie's son have been kidnapped.'

‘Where?'

‘Tower block. The Elms.'

She didn't need to hear anything else. ‘Tell him I'm on my way.'

Peta ran back out of the door and straight to her car. Drove off as fast as she could.

Donovan dials the number, waits. He looks up at the tower block, imposing against the night sky. He knows the phone will be answered. He is counting on the curiosity of the man on the other end to respond to a number he does not know. He is right. The phone is answered.

‘Tom Haig?'

‘Who's this?'

‘Joe Donovan. I believe you've got my daughter.'

A sound, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. ‘Where's Anne Marie?'

‘She's on her way. You've got me first.'

‘I don't want to talk to you.'

‘Really? Then why did you send me that note the other night? Telling me about the dead boys?'

‘Because you would have had no idea if I hadn't sent it.'

‘So you wanted to get my attention. Well, you've got it. I presume you're on the roof? I'm coming up. If you decide to do anything before I get there, you're dead.'

There was doubt in Haig's voice. ‘Are you threatening me?'

‘No. Just giving you a statement of fact. I'm coming up. Be ready to let them go.'

He slides the phone shut, looks at Flemyng. Donovan's face is like an Ancient Greek theatre mask styled for revenge. Fixed. Unchangeable.

‘Come on,' he says, and enters the building. Flemyng follows him.

29

Tess looked up, too stunned to speak, too hurt to move. Renny crouched over her, his left fist grabbing a handful of jacket, his right hand holding the knife to Tess's throat. Tess had never been so scared in her life.

‘Please … don't …'

Renny sneered at him. ‘Don't what?'

Tess closed her eyes. ‘Don't kill me … please, don't kill me …'

Renny's eyes were lit by the kind of light Tess had often written about but never experienced first-hand. She hoped she would never experience it again.

‘Please …' said Tess. ‘I've got money. Is that what you want? I've got money.' She tried to get her hand into her pocket. ‘Take it …'

Renny tightened his grip. ‘I don't want your fuckin' money. Bitch. Cunt.'

‘Then … what … what … d'you want? Tell me, and I'll get it …'

Renny leaned closer, hissed in Tess's ear. ‘You were gonna give me up, weren't you?'

‘What?'

‘Don't fuckin' lie. You told me. You said it. You're gonna give me up. Tomorrow.'

Tess was genuinely confused. ‘What … what are you talking about?'

Angered by Tess's words, Renny gripped her jacket even tighter. Tess winced in pain. The knife came closer to her neck. ‘You know what. Don't pretend you don't.'

Tess said nothing.

‘Calvin. You're gonna announce who killed Calvin tomorrow. You said. You told me.'

‘Yeah, that's right. I am. But what's …'

‘You think I'm gonna let you do that?'

‘I don't know. Why …' And then Tess realized. She had made a mistake. A big mistake. The biggest she had ever made. She looked up into Renny's eyes. Saw in them the worst things she had ever seen. ‘No … you … you killed Calvin?'

‘Yeah. Little cunt. Dissin' me in front of all those people. Needed a fuckin' lesson.'

‘And … and Pez?'

‘Don't be fuckin' stupid. Pez was my mate.'

‘Oh God … oh God … this is so wrong …'

Renny's breathing was getting harsher, faster. He was pumping himself up, getting ready to end it. Tess could tell. Tess thought fast.

‘I wasn't going to name you. Honestly. I didn't know it was you.'

Renny was still breathing heavily. The knife glittered darkly. He paused. ‘Then who were you goin' to blame?'

‘Mae Blacklock,' Tess said as if it was obvious. ‘The child killer. She's moved back here. The boy I asked you to look out for. His mother. I thought … I thought she did it. Did both of them.'

Renny stared at her.

‘That's who I was going to say. Honestly.'

Renny's expression changed. He looked suddenly haunted. Like he had made a huge mistake and there was no way to make up for it. Tess noticed the change, tried to press forward. Talk her way out of it.

‘Look, come on, Renny. Let's just forget this ever happened, yeah? I didn't hear it and you didn't say it. We get out of this alley, go our separate ways and that's the end of it, yeah? Come on, what d'you say?'

Renny sat back, loosened his grip on Tess. Seemed to be thinking. Tess decided to press the advantage.

‘That's right, Renny. Let's just let it go, yeah? Get up like mates, walk away. And that's that. Yeah?'

Renny stood up. Tess couldn't believe it. She was going to live. She had talked her way out of it. She was going to live. Brilliant. Just wait until she wrote this up for the paper. How close she had come to death and how she had escaped. Yeah. Imagine the headlines for that one …

Renny was looking at her.

‘What?' said Tess.

‘I don't trust you,' said Renny. ‘You're a liar. You'd get out of here and you'd tell everyone.'