Джеймс Паттерсон - Liar Liar

He was not what she expected. Alone, his big fist raised for further knocking, his chiselled face didn’t spread into a smile as she opened the door. He was handsome, if in a tired, worn way. The glasses were inexpensive, almost ill-fitted.

‘Hello, Bonnie,’ he said.

The first sparkle of fear. A silly thing she pushed aside immediately. There was nothing to be scared of. A tall, handsome man was standing on her doorstep, framed by the red rose-bushes on either side of her stoop. His hair was short, neat, combed to the side in an almost boyish way.

‘Um, hi?’

‘I’m Detective Sergeant Richard Winslow.’ He waved a badge but her eyes didn’t focus on the silver shape in the leather; she was too distracted by his other hand, reaching for her own. He gave a flicker of a smile, really not more than a twitch. ‘I’m sorry to bother you. I’m here making inquiries into a matter of some importance, and I think you can assist me.’

The hand was cold. A second pulse of fear, higher this time, a tightening in her throat. Bonnie had dealt with the cops long ago. This man’s language was the same. Stern. Unnecessarily official. She glanced at the empty street. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t place it. His shirt was wrinkled. His shoes didn’t match his trousers. Shouldn’t he be with a partner?

‘Where’s your –’

‘May I come in?’ He took a step up onto the stoop, smiling. ‘The matter relates to someone you’ve been involved with in the past. A Detective Harriet Blue?’

Bonnie felt the fear in full now, an invisible choking grip around her throat. She stepped back. Harry. God, it had been so long. There were days, few and far between, when Bonnie didn’t think about what had happened to her at all. A swift, violent attack behind a bar in the city six years ago. Harriet Blue had been Bonnie’s investigating officer. Bonnie remembered the small woman with the keen blue eyes, a straight-to-the-point hunter of details. Harry had interviewed Bonnie over and over. She’d caught the guy. Of course. The detective had never allowed Bonnie to feel any doubt that she would. She’d seemed the over-the-top type, the kind of fierce, obsessive cop who would pursue the case without eating, without sleeping.A cop who took it personally. She’d been abrasive in the beginning. Almost rude. But Bonnie had grown to love the woman who’d solved her case.

Bonnie had seen something about Harry and that serial killer running around Sydney in the news a week earlier. She turned into the hall, hardly focusing on the man on the doorstep, her mind whirling.

‘Oh, God,’ Bonnie said, her hand at her throat. ‘Yes, come in, come in.’

The man followed her into the kitchen. She went to the sink and filled herself a glass of water. The shock of it all – remembering the rape, remembering Harry and those dark days during the investigation and trial. Bonnie told herself that those memories were where the fear was coming from. But as she looked over at the stranger in her kitchen doorway, the fear refused to go away.

She swallowed painfully. ‘Is Harry OK? She’s … she’s on that serial killer case, isn’t she? Something about her brother.’

‘Tell me about Harry.’ The man dragged a stool out from under the marble bench, blocking the door. He sat on it and folded his thick arms.

Bonnie felt hot all over. Her heartbeat was thumping in her ears.

‘Can we go outside?’ Bonnie asked. ‘I just need some air.’

The smile he’d flashed on the front doorstep was nowhere in sight now.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, for some reason. ‘What did you say your name was again?’

He didn’t answer. Just sat there, staring at her. Bonnie had backed into the corner of the kitchen.

‘I’m …’ She rubbed her arms. ‘I’m uncomfortable with this. I’d like to go outside. I’d like to –’

‘Bonnie,’ he said.

Her hand fluttered of its own volition towards the knife block on the countertop, instinct taking over. He watched coldly as she grabbed the biggest handle.

‘Bonnie,’ Regan said. ‘Don’t be stupid.’

Chapter

26

WHITT FOUND CHIEF morris just outside his office, standing with a group of beat cops consulting a map. They seemed to be planning a cordon around Kings Cross. He tapped Pops on the shoulder.

‘Harry’s just called me,’ he said.

A bigger man whirled around, and Whitt stepped back to allow Deputy Commissioner Woods more space.

‘Harriet Blue is in contact with you?’ Woods seemed almost insulted. ‘I assume you told Detective Blue to surrender herself into custody immediately?’

Whitt explained the phone call, deciding to look at Chief Morris instead.

‘She’s rerouting her line,’ Whitt said. ‘I checked with IT before I came up here. Her calls are basically untraceable. She bounces her signal around a bunch of towers and networks, and doesn’t stay on the line long enough for the signal to settle and for us to get a location. It’s likely that’s what Regan is doing to her.’

‘Regan Banks is calling Harriet Blue?’ Woods sneered. ‘This is exactly as I was saying, Morris.’

‘It was the first time she’s called me,’ Whitt said nervously. ‘She may call again.’

‘Alright.’ Woods filled his barrel chest with air. ‘This is good news. You’ll divert your line to the command centre phone, Detective Whittacker. I’ll be taking all calls from Detective Blue from now on.’

‘I’m not sure that’s the smartest idea,’ Pops intervened. ‘If Harry calls and it’s not Whitt, she’ll hang up and she won’t call back. We need to keep the communication channels open. If Regan’s talking to her, and she’s talking to us, we have some chance of anticipating where Regan will be.’

‘No thanks, Morris.’ Woods put his palm out towards Whitt, waiting for him to give up his phone. ‘I’m not relying on a rogue detective to intermediate communications with a killer. Give it to me, Whittacker.’

Whitt gripped the phone by his side. ‘I think I agree with Chief Morris.’

‘I don’t give a rat’s arse who you agree with , Detective,’ Woods said quietly. ‘I’m giving you a direct order to hand over that phone so that your line can be diverted to –’

‘It’s my personal phone,’ Whitt said carefully. ‘I don’t have to surrender it to you. Not without Harriet having been charged with a crime. Not without you having secured a warrant to listen to my personal calls. Legally, I don’t have to do it, sir.’

Deputy Commissioner Woods dropped his hand and straightened. Whitt thought he heard the dull click of the bigger man’s teeth locking together in his powerful jaws. Pops clapped Whitt on the shoulder, hoping, it seemed, to signal the end of the conversation. He went back to the map, and Whitt tried to turn away, but Woods stopped him in his tracks.

‘Whittacker,’ he said. ‘I read about you when they asked me to take over the investigation. You’re Harry’s former partner. From Perth, was it? Yes, I had a brief look at some of your past cases.’

Whitt felt sweat breaking out at his temples. People were staring.

‘The men who killed that little girl,’ Woods said. ‘The ones whose release from prison you practically handed to them on a platter. Have they killed again since they’ve been free?’

Whitt couldn’t answer. He felt suddenly, unbearably sick.

‘I don’t suppose anyone knows,’ Woods said. ‘A kid goes missing. They never find her. Could have been your guys. No one’s watching them anymore. You made sure of that.’

Whitt walked towards the men’s room. He barely made it through the door before the sickness came.

Chapter

27

LOOK AT THEM. These are the people you spend your life protecting .