Poppet (40 page)

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Authors: Mo Hayder

BOOK: Poppet
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‘Does “she” have a name?’

He hesitates. Then he says in a low voice that is almost a whisper, ‘Melanie Arrow.’

‘Melanie Arrow?’ Caffery lowers his chin, frowns at Jonathan. ‘The unit’s director?’

Jonathan nods. He presses two fingers on either side of his Adam’s apple, as if he’s trying to control something in his throat. ‘Nearly twenty years we worked together. She couldn’t keep a relationship together – not with anyone. I sat and watched them come and go. Watched her tear herself apart over each one. Waited my turn. I’d have followed her to the ends of the earth. She was everything I wasn’t. There was softy public-schoolboy me, with my Latin A levels and rich mummy and daddy, while she was born on a sink estate in Gloucester. You’d never guess it from the way she talks, would you? She dragged herself all the way up the tree – to the place she is now. I met her when I left the whole money system and become Citizen Keay and … well, shit – I mean, you’ve seen her. She was pretty and sweet and above all she was a fighter. Can you imagine how I felt about her?’

He trails off, looking again at his hands, which clench and unclench on the bed.

‘Except I was a fail at supporting her – keeping her sane. It was like keeping a drowning victim’s head above the water. When I worked out exactly who she was – what she was – I told her I was leaving. Leaving her, the hospital, the profession.’ His mouth twists into an ironic smile. ‘That’s when I got my brand. Adultery.’

‘What are you telling me, Jonathan?’

‘Don’t you know?’

He holds Jonathan’s eyes steadily. ‘I’d like to hear it from you.’

‘A childhood like Mel had? It leaves scars. Her dad had cancer when she was a child. He survived, but she used to tell everyone he was dead. She’d cry about it to anyone who’d listen – and all the while he was alive and well. She just didn’t want anything to do with them. He was a council worker – basically, he was a dustbin man – and she was too proud to admit it.’

‘I repeat – what are you telling me, Jonathan?’

He clears his throat, embarrassed. ‘When patients at Beechway started talking about The Maude, exactly the same as they had at Hartwool, I thought …’ He waves his hand in front of his face, as if to say he was blinded. ‘I don’t know what I thought. I was in denial, I suppose. Have you ever been so in love with someone you’d close your eyes to almost
anything
? Even something like this?’

Caffery can’t answer that. Not to himself, and certainly not to Jonathan.

‘Even when Pauline died I tried to pretend she’d just wandered off of her own volition. Melanie is absolutely lovely, so charming to everyone around her, you’d never think for a moment she was capable of …’ He breaks off to wipe his eyes again. ‘It was her pattern when her relationships ended, her way of releasing her anger, frustration. You can time every appearance of The Maude by her break-ups. Pauline was attacked in her room a week after Melanie’s husband filed for divorce. A couple of weeks later Moses gouged out his eye. And now you’re telling me Zelda? After I left?’

Caffery folds his arms. He puts his feet out and tips his head back, eyes closed. It’s the attitude of someone having a five-minute afternoon nap, but he’s not relaxing. He’s slotting everything into place. He’s thinking about the power cuts – effectively blocking the CCTV recordings. It’s bothered him from the start, how Isaac could time his strikes so easily – as if he was ready for the blackouts. But if Melanie Arrow is AJ’s Scooby ghost … it all fits. As clinical director, she would have access to all areas, she could come and go at will, interfere with security settings and fuses and locks. And the victims were always the patients that weren’t well liked by the staff. Did Arrow think they’d be missed less? Or were they the ones who irritated her the most?

Caffery opens one eye. Jonathan is staring at him. ‘What?’ Caffery says. ‘What?’

‘You have to believe me when I tell you this. She is more insane, more dangerous, than any of the patients in that place.’

X-Ray Vision


WHAT’S GOING ON?
’ In the containment cell, Melanie is puzzled by the delay AJ is causing. ‘Shall we just get on with it?’

Isaac’s eyes flicker to and fro in confusion – trying to understand this change of mood. Because, intelligent as he is, he isn’t a liar. He may be manipulative and capable of violence, but he can’t lie. He said he didn’t poison Stewart and AJ believes him. Scales have fallen from his eyes and he can see more clearly, as if he’s been granted X-ray vision. Earlier, when he told Melanie that Stewart was ill, she immediately assumed it was something he’d eaten. He’d never said Stewart was poisoned, just that he’d been ill. And the mask – the radiation mask – it is the one her father used in treatment.

AJ looks at her pretty face, her wide-set eyes, her pale-blonde hair. He thinks about Stewart barking at her when she first arrived at Eden Hole Cottages.

Stewart knew. And now AJ does too.

‘Hello?’ Melanie repeats. ‘I said, shall we get on with it?’

AJ has thrown the security room into uproar. The Big Lurch is staring at him, his eyes bulging, and Linda and her senior are having a long, angry conversation with the commander. She keeps shooting AJ hostile looks through the doorway. Eventually the conversation breaks up. Linda fires AJ a resentful scowl and steps aside, shaking her head. She tucks her shirt back into her belt, glancing around the room for some confirmation that this is all out of order. The commander comes into the pod and stands next to AJ, one hand on the desk, the other on the back of the chair, leaning in so he can speak to AJ in a low voice. ‘The language you were using wasn’t very helpful. I thought we’d reached an agreement about what you would and wouldn’t say?’

‘I promise – no more swearing. I promise.’

‘I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt because this is your environment – please don’t let me down.’

‘I won’t.’

‘One more chance.’ He raises his eyebrows. ‘OK?’

AJ nods.

‘Can we get this over with?’ Melanie repeats from the seclusion room. ‘Please?’

The commander retreats to the doorway. AJ keeps him on the edge of his vision, where he can monitor him. He flicks the mic on again. ‘Yes,’ he says steadily. ‘We’ll get it over with, Melanie, when you tell the truth – the real truth.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘You heard me. Explain why you’ve confessed all of a sudden.’


AJ
,’ Melanie says, with a meaningful glance at Isaac. ‘Do you have to ask me that question? Isn’t it
clear
?’

In the staffroom Linda has turned furiously – her hands out in disbelief. But the commander hasn’t moved – yet. His arms are folded, and he is watching AJ like a hawk.

‘Melanie,’ AJ says quickly, before the commander changes his mind, ‘what I’m confused about is why Isaac would think it in the first place. Why would Isaac come up with something like that?’

‘You are joking, aren’t you?’

‘You tell me.’

Melanie’s eyes flicker from Isaac to the camera and back. She points her toes and knees together – like a child who doesn’t know the answer to a question.

‘Melanie?’

‘AJ, I’ve explained. Isaac
thinks
it because, naturally, I
did
it.’ Her chin is down, her eyes are locked on the camera, sending the clear message:
This is a game we’re playing – now for God’s sake do your bit
. ‘I
did
drive them to their deaths. I
did
hurt them and I
did
try to pass it off as self-harm and I did—’

‘Say it again,’ AJ cuts in. ‘But this time, don’t act it.’

Melanie’s mouth opens in disbelief.

‘AJ,’ she says in a hurt tone. ‘Tell me – why aren’t you getting me out of here?’

‘Tell me,’ he replies. ‘Why are you being so theatrical?’

She falters. Then her face hardens. Her feet turn outwards. She sits back and drops her hands at her sides. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Yes, you do.’

‘You’re insane. Is there anyone else there? Who’s in charge? Where’s Linda?’

AJ glances at Linda, who glares at the commander. But he is standing with his back against the wall, one hand pinching his mouth ruminatively.

‘I want to know who’s in charge,’ Melanie says. ‘Put him on. Or get Linda back on.’

The commander taps his lips thoughtfully, considering his response. At length he pushes himself from the wall. He comes to the desk, leans over to the mic. ‘Yes, Melanie. I’m the most senior police officer here, the commander on this incident.
And
,’ he continues before she can cut in, ‘I’m listening. It’s all yours.’


Wha
—’

‘You heard him,’ says AJ. ‘Now answer my question.’

There is a long pause. Melanie’s eyes seem to get bigger and bigger by the second. She cannot believe this is happening. Everyone in the control room is absolutely motionless. Linda’s egg timer turns itself over.

Eventually Melanie smoothes her hair back from her face. She takes a deep breath. ‘Sometimes, AJ,’ she says, in a soft voice. ‘Sometimes when we lose someone – the way you lost your mother – sometimes we look around ourselves and all we can see is pain.’

AJ goes cold. ‘This has nothing to do with my mother.’

‘Sometimes when people carry around the sort of pain and the guilt you’re feeling about your mother’s death, it can occasionally get transferred to others. So easy to assume that if we feel guilt, others must too. Maybe that guilt is there because, what … ? Because secretly you wanted her to die? Maybe you’d been a little careless with her medi—’

‘Melanie—’


Careless
with her medication. Only you—’

‘Shut up, please.’


Only you
know the truth, AJ. What actually happened. But one thing is sure: you’ve attached the guilt you feel about your mother’s death to me, which is why you’re doing this.’ She shakes her head, bites her lip. ‘I’m so sorry. I think you know what I’ve been trying to tell you for a while now.’

AJ is silent for a moment – awestruck by her. She is good, but not quite good enough. She’s a cartoon villainess.

‘I’m not sure I do know,’ he says. ‘What have you been trying to tell me?’

‘I hate to say it like this – it’s too public. I can’t say something that hurtful in a place like this.’

‘Oh, I think you can.’

She sighs. ‘OK – you’re doing this because you know it’s over between us. You know it was never going to be a reality. I mean,
me
? With you?’ She makes a face as if she’s seen something particularly noxious which, out of decency, she can’t specify. ‘Especially you know, the earth that didn’t move when we got between the sheets. I can sort of see your point of view – and I can understand why you’d hit back at me like this. It might seem, from an onlooker’s perspective, a particularly hurtful and childish way of doing it – but it’s probably understandable. You have your problems and I can’t pass judgement on that. Now,’ she says calmly, ‘please pass the microphone back to the inspector.’

‘I think I’ll decline that.’

‘No, you won’t.’

‘I will.’

‘I don’t think you fucking will,’ she says. ‘Dick.’

In the security pod an icy silence descends. Every person is transfixed by Melanie’s face. The hardening angles.

AJ swallows. He’s almost got her. ‘Yes,’ he says softly. ‘I will.’

There is a pause. Melanie breathes in and out. She is shaking. Eventually she says in a voice so low it’s barely audible, ‘You wet dick. Get the commander back on the microphone
now
.’

In AJ’s holster his phone is ringing. He looks down. It’s Jack Caffery’s number flashing on and off.

Timing, he thinks. Sometimes life is about little more than good timing.

How to Make an Arrest

BEECHWAY HIGH SECURE
Unit is visible from miles away – blazing like a beacon with the blue emergency lights flashing on and off, strobing through the trees like lightning. As Caffery winds his way up the drive the usual faces emerge in his headlights: the divisional first-response cars, ambulances, three plain cars he takes to be local CID – and a support-unit armoured Sprinter van.

He’s not sure what to expect. He has sent through a directive not to arrest Melanie Arrow until he arrives – he wants to be there when that happens. She’s currently in a containment cell.

‘Jack,’ a voice says as he comes up the drive. He stops. Leaning against the van at the top of the drive is Flea Marley. She has one foot up against the van and is holding coffee in a Thermos cup. She’s in personal protective gear – covered in radios and gizmos – and she looks tired. Her hair is scraped back off her face and she wears no make-up.

He’s reached the end of her jerking him around. He thinks of Jonathan Keay and his confusion and embarrassment that he’d protected Melanie so long. When is he, Caffery, going to wake up to his own blinkered breed of denial? He’s not going to talk to her. Instead he gives her his professional face.

‘Yeah, hi – how’s it looking up there? Easy?’

She pauses. Caught by the hard edge in his voice. ‘Yeah – I … uh.’ She brushes a strand of hair from her face, using her hand to shield her expression. When she drops her hand the look has passed and her manner is all business. ‘Simples,’ she says lightly, gesturing at the hospital. ‘We’ve piled in here tooled up to the ears and it turns out to be nothing. Damp firework. The bronze and silver commanders are in there arguing the small print. Both hostage and the target are compliants, so it makes our job easier.’ She takes a deep, deep breath. ‘Before you go … ?’

‘Yes?’ he says impatiently. ‘What?’

She’s silent for a moment. Then she lowers her face and sips from her Thermos cup. ‘Nothing,’ she mumbles. ‘Nothing. Good luck.’

Caffery knows for sure that ‘nothing’ doesn’t mean ‘nothing’, but he’s a stubborn bastard when he wants to be. He’s not going to forget the way she’s jerked him around this week. He holds a hand up as goodbye, turns and heads up the drive. He doesn’t turn to look at her, though he assumes she’ll be watching him. Hating him.

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