The Silent Pool (35 page)

That ‘folks’ caused the Mayor to reach for his Vicodin container.

Bovind looked up from his own iPad. ‘Hey, Richard, go easy on them things, we do want you here on Saturday, you're giving the keynote speech and we don't want you drooling as you do it.’

Bovind wasn't smiling. The Mayor decided to ignore him.

‘I'll be fine but given there is likely to be a riot I don't imagine that any one will be listening to my speech. You know that since that doctor was killed the city is like a tinderbox. Professor Cannon's lot, and many others, think that there are religious death squads operating. They blame me!’

Bovind walked over to the Mayor and placed his hands on the Mayor's shoulders, he began to rub hard.

‘What are you doing?’ asked the Mayor. He tried to move away but Bovind's hands pressed deep into his flesh.

‘Listen, Mr Mayor. I have it all under control, the non-believers and their leader Professor Cannon will be contained at the east end of Hope Street. You will be addressing the godly, the Third Wavers and our invited members of the Islamic community at the west end of the street. There will be a police cordon running down Hardman Street keeping the two sides separated. There will probably be a bit of jeering from the ungodly as you speak but, trust me, Mayor, that will be drowned out by the clarion call of the faithful who you will be addressing.’

The Mayor pulled free of Bovind's grasp. ‘I'm the mayor of this city not a fucking preacher!’ he shouted.

Bovind's eyes flashed.

‘Anthony would you leave us, please. Now!’ said Bovind.

Anthony looked at the Mayor and then back to Bovind before scurrying out of the room.

Bovind turned to the Pastor who was seated in a chair in the corner of the room and nodded. The Pastor stood up and walked over to the Mayor until his face was only a few inches away from the Mayor's. The Mayor could smell expensive cologne, musky and heavy mixed with a sharper smell, it took a second for him to realise that there was a sharper undertone, something almost faecal.

‘You like fucking Elena, don't you, Mr Mayor. It's the only thing that brings you pleasure these days, isn't it, you impotent, little shit. You will read out the speech written for you by me or video of you trying to spoon your cock into Miss Karpinski will be on YouTube by five o'clock tonight. Do you fucking well understand, you worm?’

‘You haven't…she wouldn't!’

‘Remember the porcelain cat?’ sneered the Pastor.

Bovind came over and put his arm around the Mayor.

‘Thank you, Thomas. Take a seat, Richard.’

He guided the Mayor to an empty chair and slowly eased him down into it. The Mayor felt stunned, unable to speak.

The Pastor returned to his chair and resumed reading his Bible as though nothing had happened.

‘You see, Mr Mayor, this project is too important to God to let our personal feelings get in the way. We've come so far and we only have a little way to go. Your speech will go down in history as you will be setting out an agenda for the rights of the religious that will echo around the world. You, Mr Mayor, are going to be famous. Now let's take a look at the speech, I think you are going to be impressed.’

Bovind picked up the Mayor's Vicodin box and poured out two pills into his hand

‘Thomas, if you please.’

The Pastor got up and went to the water fountain in the corner of the room. He returned with a small plastic cup of water, and wordlessly, handed it to the Mayor.

‘On second thought, maybe you do need these after all,’ said Bovind.

The Mayor suddenly realised that his arm was outstretched, palm open. He hadn't been aware of doing it.

Bovind gently placed the pills in the Mayor's outstretched hand.

CHAPTER 45

Erasmus came around to the sound of a beeping heart monitor and the low industrial hum of an intensive care unit. There was a tube in his mouth. He spat it out and tried to call for help. His throat was burning dry and he struggled to make any sound.

His eyelids seemed to be stuck together by some waxy substance and he struggled to force them apart. Slowly, they separated. When they opened a face slowly came into focus.

It was Jenna. She smiled, a look on her face of what? Concern? Affection? Erasmus didn't know for sure but he liked it.

‘You gave us quite a scare there.’

‘Water,’ was all he managed to say.

She reached for a jug on the bedside cabinet and poured him a glass of water. He drank it greedily. The pain in his throat, which had felt full of glass, began to ease.

‘What happened to me?’ he asked.

‘Well, technically you died. Your heart stopped and if the police hadn't been called by someone who thought you were a burglar then you probably would have died on the pavement. The policeman restarted your heart. By the way he wants to speak to you, find out why you were in that state and so do I.’

‘I was tortured, electrocuted by…’ He paused.

‘By whom?’

Erasmus thought back to the storeroom and that face. He knew it from somewhere, he was sure, but from where?

‘I don't know, I think I recognised him but I'm not sure I only saw his face for a second before I got out of there.’

Jenna's eyes flashed to one side. ‘Do you know where you are?’

‘Hospital. Look at all this,’ he turned his head towards the monitor on his right.

Jenna winked at him. ‘You were in hospital. You've been unconscious for two days. A medically induced coma to allow you to recover. I had you moved here once you were out of danger. Look up.’

Erasmus looked up at the ceiling. There was a delicate chandelier and ornate cornicing.

‘You're at Theo's house.’

This didn't make any sense to Erasmus. But there was another pressing concern: Abby. He had been due to pick her up yesterday evening.

‘I was meant to pick Abby up from school. I need to call Miranda.’

Jenna saw him getting anxious and she held his hand, her skin felt smooth and cool.

‘I know, you were babbling about it all day yesterday. I took the liberty of calling Miranda and explaining that you were assisting me on a sensitive matter and that you would be out of touch for a few days. She was very understanding, Erasmus. I can't imagine why you broke up with her. I'm going to leave you to sleep now. ’

She gave him a mischievous look.

Erasmus sat up. It was a mistake. His head began to swim and Jenna's face blurred and then there was darkness once again.

The next time he woke up Jenna was sitting by the bed. She hadn't noticed he was awake. He looked at her, she was crying.

He put out his hand. He was woozy from the drugs but he knew what he was doing. Slowly his hand squeezed hers and he pulled her towards the bed.

She hesitated at first and then she succumbed, moving onto the bed. Slowly she moved on top of him, her body pressing hard against his. Erasmus pulled her face to his and began to kiss her. Jenna moaned softly.

She pulled back.

‘Your heart?’ she said.

Erasmus flung back the bed sheet.

‘There is nothing wrong with my heart,’ he said and pulled her back to him.

She collapsed into him and he kissed her.

He started to undress her slowly. She stopped kissing him and took over, speeding things up. She quickly unbuttoned her blouse. Erasmus ran his hands across her smooth, flat belly.

‘I need to tell you something,’ whispered Jenna.

‘Later,’ he said. His fingers drew patterns on the bare skin of her back.

She sighed.

Maybe it was the side effects of the drugs he had been given but their lovemaking was almost dreamlike. Their limbs locked and moved together in a sensual motion. Passionate urgency was filtered through a morphine haze, and when it was over Erasmus drifted into unconsciousness, unsure whether what had passed between them was dream or reality.

Hours later he awoke. Jenna had gone and he could sense immediately that there was a man in the room from the heavier feel of the air and the faint scent of cologne.

‘Ah, you're awake, that's marvellous.’

Erasmus looked in the direction from where the voice had come. He had to crawl up the pillows but this time there was no headache or faintness.

The room had a bay window, which Erasmus hadn't noticed last time in his brief awakening. In the bay, sat in a wicker chair, was Theo.

Theo got up, picked up the chair, walked across the room and put the chair to the side of the bed level with Erasmus’ head.

He sat down.

‘I have been assured that you are in good health you'll, no doubt, be pleased to know. Your heart stopped because of massive electrical interference. Once it got started again, all things being equal, with a bit of rest you should be as right as rain.’

Erasmus felt a twinge in his chest. He told himself to ignore it.

‘I suppose you are wondering why I have brought you here?’

‘It had crossed my mind, yes,’ said Erasmus.

Theo looked at the floor for an instant. He seemed to be trying to find the words.

“‘Look as long as you don't say, “‘Luke, I'm your father,”’ it will be fine,’ said Erasmus.

Theo laughed. ‘You were baptised a Catholic, yes?’

Erasmus nodded. ‘I was never confirmed though.’

‘No matter. You know the story, guilt, guilt and more guilt, sometimes it's so heavy you feel every step is a burden. Sometimes I think my whole life is an attempt to wash away that guilt and occasionally, very occasionally, I have had moments when the guilt seems to have lifted and oh the joy, Erasmus, the lightness of being,’

Erasmus wasn't in the mood for theology and Theo seemed to be the kind of man who given an opportunity to talk would take it, and then some.

‘This is all very interesting, Theo, but what does it have to do with me?’

‘Because I feel guilty for what I have done to you. You died, Erasmus, and it's a miracle that you have returned.’

‘I don't believe in miracles so what do you have to tell me, Theo?’

Theo looked out of the window. Erasmus noticed that he was picking at the skin on his right thumb. A speck of blood had appeared there.

‘I am the reason why Stephen has gone missing and why you are laying in that bed.’

‘Go on.’

‘I lied to you or rather I didn't tell you the full truth last time we spoke.’

Erasmus curled his fists into balls.

Theo continued. ‘You told me that Bovind was being blackmailed by Stephen. He is being blackmailed. But Stephen didn't write the letters, it was Jenna.’

Erasmus’ world turned upside down. She had lied to him and he hadn't picked up any signals. He had shown her the credit card statements and she had acted shocked. Had he had a blind spot from the start?

‘Stephen didn't run up the debts, she did. She was the gambler,’ said Erasmus.

‘That's right. Stephen would never gamble but for Jenna I think it became a distraction from what she would call a humdrum, suburban existence that I don't think she was ever meant to live. She maxed out their credit cards, placed them in debt. When Stephen found out he went to Purple Ahmed for a loan. As is the case with such people the exorbitant interest soon crippled them financially. They couldn't keep up the repayments and Stephen was beaten up pretty badly by one of Ahmed's thugs. Guilt can cause you to do things you thought you were incapable of. It was after that that Jenna wrote the first blackmail letter. She knew that Stephen was racked with guilt about something that happened at the beach all those years ago and she gambled Bovind wouldn't want it bringing up. She figured what was worth £50,000 to a billionaire, and she was right, Bovind paid up straightaway.’

‘Why didn't they just ask you for the money?’

Theo flushed. ‘They did. Stephen never would have asked but Jenna did and, to my shame, I said no. I told Jenna that I would only help if Stephen asked me. I wanted him to come back into the fold. Part of me knew he would never do ask me for money. Yet I still said no. So Jenna did what she had to do. I caused all of this.’

Theo stood up and began to pace back and forth.

‘When Jenna called me and told me that Stephen had gone missing the guilt was crushing. If I had just lent them the money Stephen would still be here. I realised, of course, that it must be Bovind. For him to kidnap or kill Stephen it suggested to me that my suspicion that he was involved in Tomas’ death was probably true. If Stephen was still alive I needed Bovind to think he had nothing to gain by killing him. I needed him to think the problem was bigger than just Stephen. So I sent him letters purporting to be from each of the boys, one after the other.’

‘And now those boys are being killed one after another,’ said Erasmus.

‘Yes. I am to blame.’

‘I don't fucking believe it. You're responsible for all of this. Does Jenna know?’

Theo nodded. ‘Don't blame her, Erasmus. When Stephen went missing we couldn't tell the police that she had been blackmailing Bovind. That's why we turned to you. I knew a bit about your past and I told Jenna to specifically ask for you on the case. We just wanted you to get Stephen back from Bovind.’

Erasmus felt sick to his stomach. Jenna had lied to him. She'd known all along why Stephen had gone missing.

Suddenly something struck Erasmus. The men who had come to Jenna's house had wanted to know whether she knew where Stephen was. And they were Bovind's men, he'd admitted that, so why would they need to know? Something wasn't quite right.

‘If you think that Bovind has killed those boys and maybe Stephen then you have to take this to the police.’

Theo glared defiantly at Erasmus. ‘Take what? The only physical evidence of a crime is my blackmail. Stephen is missing and the other deaths have no link to Bovind that you have been able to establish. Where is the proof?’

Proof. Erasmus had seen men killed who were certain of something without proof: a patch of ground they knew to be safe, an informer they knew could be trusted, a suicide bomber certain he was about to receive an eternal reward. Erasmus liked proof.

Theo began to speak quietly. ‘I have a theory and nothing more, but I know it's the truth and I think you do as well. That's why Bovind had you beaten up and tortured; he wanted to find out what you knew.’