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Authors: Jane Casey

The Last Girl (47 page)

BOOK: The Last Girl
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‘Lost him.’ I could barely hear him.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Fine. Angry.’

‘Did you see him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did he see you?’

‘Probably.’ A couple of deep breaths. ‘I almost got him.’

‘Oh, Rob. Where did he go?’

‘Out one of the gates. He’s gone.’

‘I’ll tell the control room.’

‘No need. Just been talking to a response car. They’re on it.’

‘Oh, well done,’ I said inadequately.

‘Where are you?’

‘Still on the island. I was waiting to hear what happened. I can come and meet you.’

‘By the Rosary Gate.’

Again, I was left holding a dead phone. I started to jog along the path heading for the bridge where I’d seen Chris, dodging between slow-moving pedestrians. There was no urgency but I wanted to see Rob, to make sure he was really all right. If any harm had come to him … but it hadn’t. Down the other side of the bridge and across the grass, between picnickers, through an impromptu football match with a muttered apology to the nearest players. My sandals had thin, leather soles that weren’t ideal for running and I had to be careful not to slip.

The phone rang again.

‘Kerrigan.’

‘There’s no need to hurry. You’re not missing anything.’

The voice was mocking, more self-assured than I remembered, but instantly recognisable. I stopped. ‘Chris?’

‘You knew it was me.’ He sounded genuinely pleased.

‘Funnily enough, I find you easy to remember.’ I turned around slowly, trying to pick him out of the crowds, knowing he was there somewhere. ‘I take it you can see me.’

‘You’re right.’

‘Why can’t I see you?’

‘Not looking in the right place, I expect. It’s a common problem for you and your colleagues.’

‘We’ve been doing our best.’

‘It’s a very clumsy effort, Maeve. The bank accounts and computer traces, I mean. Nothing I can’t avoid. Anyone with half a brain could manage it.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ I could feel sweat trickling down my back. They wouldn’t be covering the exits of the park. They thought he had gone. There were too many gates, too
many
places where he could have ducked back in. It was the best chance we’d had to corner him and I was stuck on the phone, talking to him. I started walking, heading for the Rosary Gate.

‘Did you get the pictures I sent you?’

‘I thought they looked like your work.’ I swallowed. ‘You’ve got to stop this, Chris. It’s not fair.’

‘No, what’s not fair is losing my job and my website. What’s not fair is having to leave my home because you decided to get your mates to search the house. Just because you’re a police officer, you think that makes you special.’

‘You’d been spying on me. And everyone’s entitled to their privacy.’

‘There’s no such thing.’

‘You like to pry into other people’s affairs but you don’t like it when you’re the one who’s investigated. You’ve just been complaining about it. Try to be a bit more consistent, Chris.’

‘You’re not challenging me, are you, Maeve?’ He tutted. ‘You don’t want to do that. You don’t know what I’m capable of.’

‘No, I don’t.’ I was shaking, from adrenalin more than from fear. ‘All I know is you’re determined to make my life a misery.’

‘Not at all. I just don’t want to see you waste your time on someone who isn’t worthy of you.’

‘This has nothing to do with Rob,’ I said quickly. ‘This is between you and me.’

‘I wish it was. But he’s here, isn’t he? He’s pounding around looking for me, your knuckle-dragging hero. I don’t like him, Maeve, and I don’t like that you’re still with him. I thought I’d shown you what he was like.’

‘I saw the pictures. They were doing surveillance.’

‘Is that what he told you?’

‘Look, you don’t have to worry about him. I told you. We’re breaking up.’

‘Moving on? Got someone else lined up?’

‘No.’ I said it with as much force as I could muster.

‘I don’t believe you. Girls like you always have the next one ready. You don’t like being alone, do you? You like being looked after.’ A plaintive note crept into his voice. ‘I could look after you, you know.’

‘That’s never going to happen.’

‘Never say never, Maeve.’

‘You’re not my type.’

‘You just don’t know what your type should be. You need someone who’ll be there for you. Someone faithful. I’ve been loyal to you since the minute I set eyes on you. I’ve barely looked at another woman. Not like that miserable bastard you’ve been with.’

‘I told you, forget about him. He’s old news.’

‘He will be.’

I felt the pit of my stomach drop away. ‘What does that mean?’

‘You’ll find out.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘I’ve got to go, Maeve. I’d better not hang around too long. Eventually someone will work out I’m here, or you’ll manage to get a message to one of the officers standing around looking for me, and then the hunt might actually be on.’

‘They’re looking for you already,’ I said.

‘They’re looking for the wrong person, in the wrong place. I’ve got rid of the bike, and the outfit. I’m sorry you saw me like that. It wasn’t the most attractive get-up but it suited my purposes. You wouldn’t recognise me now, I’ll tell you that.’

‘Are you close by?’

A giggle. ‘You can’t imagine.’

I couldn’t stop myself from looking around again. I had gone beyond strategy and cool surveillance to genuine terror, worse as always because it wasn’t on my account. ‘Please, leave me alone, Chris. I don’t deserve this.’

‘You can beg if you like. I love it when women plead. You’ll
promise
anything to get out of a tight spot. No morals, when it comes down to it. No courage.’ He sighed happily. ‘I’ll be in touch, Maeve. Warn your little fuck-pal he needs to start looking over his shoulder.’

‘Listen to me, Chris,’ I said urgently. ‘We’ve split up. I’m moving out.’

‘That’s good. But I owe him a lesson.’ He sounded amused. ‘It’s too late, Maeve. I like you for trying to save him, but there’s nothing you can do. Nothing at all.’

‘Chris, please.’ My throat was tight with unshed tears, mainly of rage and frustration. ‘Just let it go.’

‘Not now, not ever. I’m with you until the end, Maeve. Until the end.’

I opened my mouth to argue, but it was too late. The conversation was over. He was gone.

I shouldn’t have been worried about Rob – I had spoken to him, after all, and knew he was both all right and in the company of rather a lot of police officers – but I was irrational enough to keep running until he was in sight. I slowed down then, partly because the stitch in my side was making me gasp for air and partly because I couldn’t think what to say to him. He was talking to a uniformed officer and had his back to me, so I had plenty of time to try to come up with an opening line. What I managed, however, when he swung around, was a gasp at the blood that was streaking down the side of his head from a gash above his ear.

‘What did he do to you?’

‘It looks worse than it is.’

‘Let me see.’

‘Leave it.’ He jerked his head away irritably. ‘It’s not a big deal.’

‘It looks like a big deal to me.’

‘I’d better go and clean up, then. PC Michaels wants to speak to you.’ He walked off without another comment
to
me and I watched him go until the officer cleared his throat apologetically.

‘I just need to take a statement from you, really, so I can write up a report.’

‘Of course.’ I answered his questions automatically, explaining something of the history between Chris Swain and me and giving some clue as to why I had reacted that way to him appearing in a public place.

‘Did he make any threats against you or anyone else?’

‘Specific threats? No.’ Nothing I could use against him, anyway.

The officer was unfailingly polite, but I could tell he was baffled by the entire situation. It was a relief to get to the end of our conversation, even though the alternative was Rob, who was sitting on a bench with his arms folded, a forbidding expression on his face. He had accepted a bandage from one of the officers but refused their offer of proper medical attention. I went over to stand near him.

‘Don’t you think you should let them get some paramedics to check you over?’

‘I didn’t lose consciousness and it’s not particularly deep. It just bled a lot. It looks better now I’ve cleaned it up.’

‘If you say so.’

‘Really, it’s fine.’

‘What happened?’

‘I should be asking you that.’ He glared at me. ‘When were you going to mention that Swain was back?’

‘I’ve only just found out.’

‘What, today?’

‘Yesterday,’ I admitted. ‘When I came back to the flat last night. But I wasn’t sure it was him.’

‘Start talking.’

I told him about the defaced photographs of the two of us, and how I thought he had signed me up for the
catalogues
I’d received. ‘He probably sent the pictures of you and Deborah Ormond too.’

‘And was disappointed with your reaction, presumably.’

‘I imagine I was supposed to storm out.’

‘I should have made it easier for him by letting her have her wicked way with me.’

‘It would have helped.’

He stared into the middle distance. ‘In the flat, earlier – I knew there was something more to it. I knew you wouldn’t throw away everything we’ve got because you were annoyed about DI Ormond.’

‘Don’t kid yourself. This isn’t about Chris Swain.’

‘That’s a shame. If you want us to break up, I’d have hoped you’d have a good reason.’

‘I don’t want us to break up at all.’ I realised it was true as I said it. ‘The reason I’m so angry with you is because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me about your problems. You didn’t want me to know.’

‘No, I didn’t. I didn’t want to worry you.’

‘And if it was the other way round and I didn’t tell you, how would that make you feel?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, you do, because you’re livid I didn’t talk to you about Chris. And I didn’t even know he was back until last night. You’ve been dealing with the Deborah Ormond situation for months, on your own, and the fact that you couldn’t tell me about it makes me feel pretty shit, actually.’

‘I was trying to protect you.’

‘You weren’t letting me be there for you. You didn’t think I’d understand.’ I shook my head, trying to blink back tears before he noticed them. ‘You don’t think much of me, do you?’

‘Maeve.’

‘No, Rob. Don’t try to persuade me I’m wrong about this. The best thing we can do is walk away from all of this
and
be glad we found out now that we’re not meant to be together.’

‘I’d dispute that.’

‘Which bit, exactly? Because Chris Swain is violent, unhinged and seriously angry with you, so you should be running for the hills, even if it wasn’t for everything else.’

‘I don’t believe in running away.’ He was staring across the park, into the distance. ‘Not from you.’

‘I suppose that’s reassuring.’

He put his hand out without looking at me, and after a moment I put my hand into his. He didn’t say anything, just held on to me, and the feel of his palm against mine was more comfort than any words could have been.

We were still sitting like that when a Mercedes pulled in through the gate and stopped short a few yards from us.

‘This doesn’t look good,’ Rob observed, as the driver and passenger got out and slammed the doors.

‘I’m not surprised the superintendent is here. I am surprised about the other one,’ I had time to mutter before they were close enough to overhear.

‘What the hell’s going on?’ Godley was in a towering rage, and Derwent didn’t look much calmer.

‘I’m sorry,’ I started to say.

‘Sorry’s not good enough. You’re being harassed by Chris Swain again – am I right? And when he actually turns up – not before – you decide to involve the police, even though you know there’s an outstanding warrant for his arrest, that officers on my team were tasked with finding him and any developments in the case, any at all, should have been brought to my attention.’

‘It all happened so fast,’ I said.

‘If it’s any consolation, she didn’t even tell me.’ Rob stood up and shook hands with Godley, then Derwent. ‘Good to see you again.’

‘I could wish for better circumstances,’ Godley said heavily.

‘What happened to you?’ Derwent was staring at the bandage on Rob’s head.

‘I was a bit too slow and a bit too ambitious. I tried to pull him off his bike and he straight-armed me into a tree.’

‘Ouch.’

‘It was the tree that did the damage,’ Rob said quickly. ‘Not him. He just got lucky.’

‘He’s been lucky twice now and it pisses me off.’ Godley turned back to me. ‘You need to do some talking, DC Kerrigan. Fill in the blanks for me. The next time I get a call from the shift commander to tell me one of my team is in trouble, it would be nice to know what’s going on.’

BOOK: The Last Girl
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