Джеймс Паттерсон - Liar Liar

Wrong. I knew the room, they didn’t, and I’d set the place up for a situation just like this. I listened as they ran into the drawers I’d left pulled out at the bottom of the bed, blocking their path forward. In the red light from the motel sign I saw them separate as I’d hoped they would, one climbing over the bed while the other tried to shut the awkward, rickety wooden drawers. I took the small packet of soap I’d left on the carpet in front of the closet and tossed it through the bathroom door. It made a clattering sound on the toilet lid.

The first officer jumped off the bed and leapt forward at the sound, into the bathroom. I popped up, grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it shut on him, slipping the slide-bolt closed. I’d set the same trap in every motel room I’d stayed in, taking the lock from the inside of the door and screwing it onto the outside with a screwdriver I kept in my backpack. I’d never used the trap before, but now it worked like a charm. I smiled in the dark.

‘Hey! Hey! What the fuck?’ he yelled.

I turned, left him beating on the inside of the bathroom door, and faced the second officer, who was blocking my path to freedom.

‘Don’t,’ he said, his arms out, as though to catch me. ‘Harry, come on. Give us a break.’

I didn’t know this young officer. Didn’t want to hurt him. But I was on a mission to bring down a killer, and I would do what it took to stay free.

He was backing up towards the exit. I couldn’t let him get there. I made a leap for the bed and that encouraged him. He came forward, grabbing at my legs while I tucked into a roll and landed on the other side of the mattress.

His arm came around my shoulders. I jutted my elbow hard into his ribs, got nowhere, kicked the wall and shoved myself backwards, propelling him onto the mattress. The shock of it was enough to loosen his grip.

The motel owner, a squat, hairy man, was standing helplessly just outside the doorway as I sprinted out into the night.

Chapter

5

CHIEF TREVOR MORRIS sat at his cluttered desk and gripped his head, looking at the report from two patrol officers in Lidcombe. In the early hours of the morning the pair had briefly encountered his rogue detective, Harriet Blue, and predictably failed to bring her in. In five weeks, it had been the only confirmed contact.

Oh, Harry , he thought. I’m so sorry .

He should have been the one to tell her that her brother was dead. He had a special kind of relationship with the unpredict-able, hot-headed officer he’d found in his local boxing gym fifteen years earlier. The new kid on the block in Sex Crimes, his only female detective in that department. Chief Morris had agreed to train her in the boxing ring. She’d started calling him Pops and, yes, he’d felt almost like her father. He’d found she could already hold her own in a fight. It had been her fury he’d had to tame, her fast, clumsy rage.

It hadn’t been much of a leap for Harry’s rage to evolve into a need for revenge.

He turned in his chair and perused a collection of articles he’d pinned to a nearby corkboard detailing the city’s reaction to Regan Banks’s escape.

Police bungle Regan Banks arrest, deadly serial killer still at large .

Two found dead; scene suggests Regan Banks alive and well .

Where is Harriet Blue? Speculation rife detective is in league with killer .

The public had never liked Harry. Had never believed that a Sex Crimes detective didn’t know her brother was a serial killer. Sam Blue had been in the middle of his trial when Regan Banks had surfaced. Harry and her few supporters had been claiming Sam was being framed by a tall, broad-shouldered man with a shaved head. They knew Regan was a killer. He’d killed as a teen, and now a woman had only barely escaped his clutches, telling investigators Regan had spoken about Sam Blue. Had Sam been innocent all along, the victim of a set-up? Or was the Georges River Killer actually a two-man team? The answers weren’t coming any time soon.

‘What a mess.’ Morris shook his head as he turned and looked at another corkboard, the various crime scenes touched by Regan’s hand. The pictures of his pretty victims, pale and still on morgue tables. ‘What a fucking mess.’

‘Yes, it is an incredible mess,’ someone said.

Pops looked towards the doorway. Deputy Police Commissioner Joseph Woods stood there with his hat in hand, the various buckles and attachments to his jacket gleaming in the harsh overhead light.

Pops stood, smoothing down his tie, feeling sweat already beading beneath his shirt. Before he could begin the necessary greetings, Woods cut over him.

‘Get your things together,’ Woods said. ‘You’re out, Morris. I’m taking over.’

Chapter

6

THERE WERE NO words. Pops eased the air from his lungs.

‘I’ll need this office as an operations centre for the Banks case,’ Woods continued. ‘You can start working on that after we brief the crew about the command change.’

‘Deputy Commissioner Woods,’ Pops said finally. ‘This is my investigation. You can’t take it over without approval from –’

‘All the approvals have been given, Morris.’ Woods patted the smaller man on the shoulder, the gesture stiff and devoid of warmth. ‘You’ve done your best, I’m sure. But this –’ he waved at the corkboard ‘– this isn’t just a mess. It’s a fucking catastrophe. It has to be taken in hand immediately by someone with suitable experience.’

Pops’s eyes widened. ‘Joe, nothing like this has ever –’

‘You’ve got a vicious killer on the loose.’ Woods leaned on the edge of the desk. ‘Eight dead. A rogue policewoman running amok, refusing to come in. Another rogue officer in a coma. Am I missing anyone?’

‘Detective Barnes is out of his coma,’ Pops said. ‘And he never –’

‘Don’t try to defend him, Morris. Tox Barnes is a lunatic. Always has been. He wanted to play with Regan a bit before handing him in – be a hero. He almost became a casualty. Well, that’s not how we do things in this job. We don’t take matters into our own hands, no matter how good it feels. I’m here to make sure that Blue woman doesn’t do the same as Barnes and add herself to the already numerous body count.’

The two men glared at each other. Morris and Woods had been at the academy together, more than thirty years earlier. It was precisely these interactions that had got Woods to the rank of Deputy Commissioner while Morris remained at Chief Superintendent. Woods railroaded people. When he spoke. When he acted. When he went for promotions. He was a tall, thick-bodied battering ram of a man, charging in and taking over when he decided good publicity might be available.

Pops felt a pain in his chest, scratched at the anxiety creeping up his insides.

‘Detective Blue is refusing to come in,’ Woods said. ‘To me, that’s not only professionally unacceptable, but it’s deeply suspicious.’

‘She’s not in league with Banks.’

‘Then why won’t she come in?’

Morris didn’t answer.

‘Because she wants to kill him,’ Woods said. ‘If she’s not in league with him she must be hunting him. That’s premeditated murder. It’s just as critical for us to bring her in to save Banks’s life as it is to investigate her involvement in his past crimes.We don’t condone vigilantism, Morris. I want her found and arrested.’

‘That’s a big mistake.’ Morris shook his head. ‘You cannot approach her with force. She will kick arses, Joe. I’m telling you. If you try to bully her, you better prepare to clean up the mess. I’ve been trying to establish contact so I can lure her in. I had two officers early this morning who found her, and they were supposed to call me. Instead they went in, and they’re lucky they didn’t get hurt.’