Mouse (24 page)

‘I’m a nobody,’ he said, snatching his hand away and putting it in his pocket. ‘I’ll never be anything.’

‘You’ve never been a nobody to me, Vince. You’ll always be a somebody to me.’

Her words stirred strange emotions within him, and he swore he could still feel her hand on his, as if she’d left some kind of exquisite scorch mark there.

There was a heavy pounding at the door, which shattered the silence and made Laura start. Her heart crashed wildly as the noise continued. She closed the door to her father’s study and went into the grand entrance hall. The
thump-thump-thump
didn’t abate and echoed the sounds of her thumping heart.

‘Who is it?’ she asked.

The knocking stopped for a second or two at the sound of her voice. Then it cranked back up again, more furious than ever. Laura unbolted the heavy oak door and swung it open.

‘Where is he, you bitch?’ Katherine screamed. She looked positively manic, her hair plastered down by the rain, her clothes already soaked through. Her mascara had run, and coupled with her bright-red lipstick it gave the impression of a half-drowned clown. But her eyes were livid, wide, blazing orbs of sheer hatred. ‘What have you done to him?’ she cried.

Laura closed the door on her but Katherine stuck her foot in the gap, stopping her. ‘Get away from me!’ said Laura. ‘Leave me alone!’

‘Not until you tell me where he is!’

‘I don’t know and I don’t care,’ Laura said.

‘I know it was you who damaged my car, who broke into my house and slashed everything up. You’re stalking me, aren’t you? Trying to scare me off. And you left me this!’ She held up the blood-smeared jacket. ‘What have you done to Felix?’

‘Felix?’ she echoed. ‘I know that’s his real name,’ said Laura. ‘Just as I knew you weren’t his sister either. I knew that much when you first came to see me. You must both think me entirely stupid.’ Laura’s expression had hardened. ‘And you must think me totally helpless, too.’ Her tone was granite-cold.

‘You don’t scare me, you crazy bitch! I know you’ve done something terrible to Felix and you won’t frighten me away till I find out what you’ve done.’

‘He said he loved me,’ said Laura flatly. ‘He made me think he was telling the truth, and all along he used that to get money from me. I loved him, and I believe I would have done anything for him. How could you have been so cruel?’

‘Look at you, Laura,’ Katherine sneered, ‘do you really suppose a man like Felix could ever love a woman like you? He told me how he was glad he never had to sleep with you to get the money. He said he’d rather sleep with a pig!’

Laura screamed loudly and launched her full weight at Katherine, grabbing her by her slender throat, forcing her back so that she fell awkwardly onto the puddled gravel. Katherine’s eyes bulged; her tongue was forced slug-like from between her red lips as she struggled to breathe. She beat at Laura with her fists but could not dislodge her. Laura’s face was twisted with rage, her teeth bared as she squeezed her fingers around Katherine’s throat with all the strength she could muster.

But then she released her. She stood up, her chest heaving. Her hair wet and matted, her eyes fierce. Katherine gasped for breath, holding her throat and raising herself onto her elbow. ‘You’re fucking crazy!’ she said, the effort painful.

‘If I ever see you again,’ said Laura breathlessly, ‘I will kill you.’ She went to the door, was about to close it.

Katherine struggled to her feet. ‘What’s behind the blue door, you bitch?’

At this Laura grabbed one of her father’s walking-sticks from a stand by the door, a stout oak affair topped with a silver handle in the shape of a bull. She cried out shrilly and ran to Katherine, raising the stick high and swinging it down across Katherine’s face. Blood gushed from a long cut on her cheek. She raised it again, this time savagely hitting Katherine’s shoulder. The woman ran back to her car crying out in agony, Laura close behind her, swinging the walking-stick wildly, managing to land a couple of blows onto Katherine’s back as she swung open the car door. She flung herself inside and locked the door on Laura’s manic screaming. The walking-stick’s silver handle crashed against the side window, smashing it and showering Katherine’s bloodied face with glass. The car tyres threw up gravel as Katherine sought to get away as quickly as she could, the stick coming down on the car’s roof, denting it. Laura took one last swing at the speeding vehicle but missed. Laura cried out at the top of her voice till she could cry no more, watching Katherine’s car bouncing down the track in the distance. She threw the walking-stick away.

Sobbing, Laura turned and went inside. She thought she heard her father’s breathing again, close at her shoulder. Heard him say that sometimes it was alright to kill someone, especially if they sought to hurt you.

Yes, she thought, tears stinging her eyes, sometimes it is the only way…

*  *  *  *

The café –
The Friendly Butty
– had seen better days, thought Martin Caldwell, though he guessed the better days can’t have been up to much. He’d never seen this high-street café with
any more than two or three people sat at the tables, and this morning he was the only one in the place apart from the surly-looking woman behind the counter, who had managed to serve him coffee and toast without uttering a single word. With nothing else to do she’d made herself a cup of tea and was sitting in a far corner of the café near the window, reading a dog-eared copy of
Exchange and Mart
.

He looked at his watch. She was late. She always used to be. It was one of the things he used to hate about her, used to get him all riled-up. His head hurt like the blazes and even the tink-tink of his spoon against his cup cut into his skull like a pick-axe. He knew he’d drunk too much yesterday. And the day before. And he shouldn’t have touched the bottle this morning either but he couldn’t help it. Things were getting out of control and if there were one thing he hated more than anyone being late it was losing control over anything. He felt his blood beginning to bubble with the thought.

The bell over the door tinkled loudly and he looked up to see Katherine walking towards him. Christ, he thought, she looked rough! She wasn’t wearing any make-up, her hair was a mess, and her clothes so creased that it looked like she might have been sleeping in them. But the thing he noticed straight off was the large sticking-plaster on her cheek and the significant area of bruising around it. Though he didn’t show it he was smiling inside as she pulled up a chair and sat opposite him. He saw how stiff her movements were and how she grimaced as she eased the chair closer to the table.

‘Morning, Kat. You look like shit.’

She glowered at him. ‘You look marginally better. Have you been at the Gordon’s again?’

‘Been in a fight with a bulldog?’ he said. ‘And lost, obviously.’

‘Fuck you,’ she said.

‘Can I get you a drink? Toasted teacake, maybe? You look like you haven’t eaten properly in ages. Anyone would think something was troubling you.’

‘Cut the crap, Martin. I’m not in the mood for it. I need you to help me.’

‘Ever thought I don’t want to help you?’

‘Ever thought you had a choice?’ she said. He noticed how her hand was trembling. She looked back over her shoulder to the woman in the corner. She wasn’t taking the slightest interest in them. ‘Why here?’ said Katherine.

‘Not as easy for you to make a scene.’

‘Don’t bet on it, Martin. She’s going to kill me…’

His eyes widened. ‘Hang on, who’s going to kill you?’

‘She is. That fucking Laura Leach.’

He gave a low chuckle. ‘You’re off your rocker, Kat.’

‘She’s the one with a screw loose. She’s out to kill me, I know she is. The same way she killed Felix.’

He held up his hand for her to calm down. ‘Keep it low, Kat.’ He leant forward, over the tomato-sauce bottle. ‘Maybe you’re overreacting.’

‘She broke into my house in
Glastonbury
, slashed up all my clothes
and then
tampered with my car’s brakes so I’d have an accident. She almost beat me to a pulp – look at my fucking face! I don’t call that overreacting!’ She wiped her tired eyes with the back of her hand. ‘She’s done something to Felix, I know she has. She left me his jacket and it had his blood all over it. I thought she was going to kill me too last night. I think she would have if I hadn’t managed to get to my car in time.’ She pulled down the polo-neck of her jumper to reveal fierce red welts around her throat.

‘Laura did all that?’

‘The bitch is fucked-up, Martin. I need your help with two things.’

He sat back, arms folded. ‘Two things? Fuck that, Kat. I told you…’

‘The first thing is to help me find out what’s behind the blue door.’

Caldwell
unfolded his arms and leant forward again. ‘Felix did mention that. What’s so special about that room?’

‘That’s just it, I don’t know, but I’m willing to bet there’s a connection between what’s in there and Felix’s disappearance. He was intent on finding out, and maybe that’s what went wrong. I’ve got to know, Martin. I love him. I’m going to fucking pieces without him!’

‘What makes you think I can help you on that score? And, like I say, maybe I don’t even want to help you.’ He lifted his cup to his lips. ‘You made this mess, Kat; you can get yourself out of it. I don’t give a damn about what happened to your precious Felix.’

‘We’ve gone through this, Martin. I know too much about you. I could fuck your life up real bad if I put my mind to it. Don’t mess with me.’

Martin’s face stiffened. He eyed her through the steam swirling from his coffee. ‘What is it you want me to do?’

‘You’ve got connections with people who could break into
Devereux
Towers
, snoop around the place. You’ve used them before.’

‘No longer my game,’ he said patiently.

‘Make it your game, Martin. I need to find out what secrets she’s hiding. I need to find out what happened to Felix, one way or another. And the second thing on my list – I want you to have Laura Leach taken care of.’

Caldwell
glanced at the woman in the corner. She was still absorbed in her paper. ‘That’s murder you’re talking about, Kat,’ he whispered.

‘It never bothered you before. Since when did you develop a conscience?’

‘That was years ago. I’m different now.’

‘You can’t shrug it off so easily, Martin. I won’t let you.’

He sighed heavily, his eyes flitting agitatedly. ‘It’ll cost you plenty.’

‘I don’t care what it costs,’ she said. ‘Make it happen.’ She rose from the table, wincing at a pain in her shoulder. ‘You’ve got one week. If I don’t get results I’ll make it bad for you.’ She leant on the table, putting her bruised face close to his. ‘I don’t care what happens to me anymore. Without Felix I’m nothing. So don’t think for a minute I won’t make good on my threats; I’ve nothing to lose. Find out all you can about Felix and then kill the bitch.’

He could tell she was deadly serious. She’d been so smitten by this guy Felix it was like a rampant disease that was eating her up. ‘I’ll do my best,’ he said.

‘You’d better,’ she warned, leaving him and slamming the café door behind her.

The woman looked up from her reading. ‘Wanting something else?’ she said.

‘Got any aspirin?’

She sat in the dark, in her father’s leather chair, as she had done so many times. The moonlight from the window fell onto the three framed photographs. Everyone smiling. Everyone happy. Only she wasn’t there amongst them to share that happiness, if that’s what it really was. It looked happy, and to an outsider perhaps it even appeared so, but Laura knew it was far from that.

Rain dashed itself against the window panes, the noise startling her. Strange, but it had been raining on and off now ever since she’d found out about
Casper
– Felix. Almost as if the weather were crying for her, mimicked her tears.

Why did she sit here? What did she hope to gain by it? Was it to try and see things from her father’s perspective, to reach behind his motivations? To see things how he must have seen them all those long years ago?

She remembered how he’d never said a word as they drove through the night. His eyes were fixed, staring straight ahead, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her.

‘Where is Alex?’ Laura said from the back seat of the car.

He didn’t reply. The windscreen wipers batted away fat drops of rain, the rubber blades squeaking.

‘I need to see Alex!’ she cried.

‘You’ll see Alex again soon,’ assured the nurse sat beside her. ‘That’s where we’re taking you.’

‘But where is it we’re going?’ Laura asked tearfully.

The doctor sitting on the other side of her spoke. His voice was not as comforting as the nurse’s. ‘Somewhere where we can better look after you.’