Peter Robinson - Friend of the Devil

“Coffee?” asked Dr. Wong.

Chelsea declined the offer, but Banks and Winsome said yes. “I’m not fetching it for you myself, you understand,” Dr. Wong said. “I wouldn’t stoop that low.”

“I don’t care who gets it,” said Banks, “as long as it’s black and strong.”

Dr. Wong smiled. “I just wanted you to know.” Then she left the room.

Banks smiled at Chelsea, who seemed wary of him. “Doctors,” he said, with a shrug.

She nodded, and a hint of a smile flitted across the corners of her lips.

“I know this is tough for you,” Banks went on, “but I’d like you to tell me in your own words, and in your own time, exactly what happened in the Maze tonight, and my friend Winsome over there will write it all down. You can start with why you were there.”

Chelsea glanced at Winsome, then at the floor. “It was so stupid of me,” she said. “A dare. Mickey Johnston dared me. Just five minutes. I didn’t think… you know… The papers said it was her boyfriend or someone. My mum told me to be careful, but I really couldn’t believe I would be in any danger.”

Banks made a mental note of the name. Mr. Mickey Johnston could expect a whole lot of grief to come in his direction soon. “Okay,” he said. “But it must have been a little bit scary, wasn’t it?” A nurse walked in quietly with the two coffees on a tray, which she placed on the table beside the tulips. It was from the machine down the hall. Banks could tell by the plastic cups before he even took a sip. It had both milk and sugar. He let his sit there, but Winsome took hers over to her corner.

“I jumped at my own shadow and every noise I heard,” said Chelsea. “I couldn’t wait to get out of there.”

“You knew your way around?”

“Yes. I used to play there when I was little.”

“Tell me what happened.”

Chelsea paused. “I was near the end of the five minutes, and I heard…” She paused. “Well, I don’t think I really heard anything at first. It was more like a feeling, you know, like something itchy crawling in your scalp. Once there was an outbreak of nits at school, and the nit nurse came around. I didn’t get them, but my best friend Siobhan did, and she told me what it was like.”

“I know what you mean,” said Banks. The nit nurse had visited his school on more than one occasion, too, and he hadn’t always been as lucky as Chelsea. “Go on.”

“Well, that’s what I felt at first, then I thought I heard a noise.”

“What sort of noise?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Behind me. Just like there was somebody there. A jacket brushing against the wall, perhaps. Something like that.”

“Did you hear any music?”

“No.”

“What about footsteps?”

“No, more of a swishing sound like your jeans or your tights make sometimes when you walk.”

“All right,” said Banks. “What did you do next?”

“I wanted to run, but something told me to slow down and turn around, so that’s what I was doing when… when…” She put her fist to her mouth.

“It’s all right, Chelsea,” said Banks. “Take a few deep breaths. That’s right. No hurry. Take your time.”

“That was when I saw him.”

“How close was he?”

“I don’t know. A few feet, maybe five or six. But I know I felt that if I turned and ran right then I’d be able to get away from him.”

“Why didn’t you run?”

“I had to get my shoes off first, and by then… He wasn’t the only one there. And we were sort of frozen. I couldn’t move. It’s hard to explain. He stopped when he knew I’d seen him, and he looked… I don’t know… I mean, he wasn’t wearing a mask or anything. It was dark but my eyes had adjusted. I know this sounds, well, stupid and all, but he was really good-looking, and his face, you know, his expression, it was concerned, like he cared, not like he wanted to… you know…”

“Did he say anything?”

“No. He… he was just going to open his mouth to say something when…”

“Go on,” said Banks. “What happened?”

She hugged her knees tighter. “It was all so fast and like slow motion at the same time. All such a blur. I saw a movement behind him, another figure.”

“Did you see a face?”

“No.”

“Was it wearing a mask?”

“No. Maybe a scarf or something, covering the mouth, like when you come back from the dentist’s in the cold. I got the impression that most of the face was covered anyway. It’s funny, I remember thinking even then, you know, it was like some avenging figure, like some superhero out of a comic book.”

“Was this figure taller or shorter than the man?”

“Shorter.”

“How much?”

“Maybe five or six inches.”

Templeton was five feet ten, which made his attacker around five-four or five-five, Banks calculated. “And what happened?”

“Like I said, it was all just a blur. This second figure reached in front, like you’d put your arm around someone’s neck if you were playing or messing about, and just sort of brushed its hand across the other’s neck, like…” She demonstrated on her own neck. “Really gently, like it was tickling.”

“Did you see a blade of any kind?”

“Something flashed, but I didn’t really see what it was.”

“You’re doing really well, Chelsea,” said Banks. “Almost there.”

“Can I go home soon?”

“Yes,” said Banks. “Your parents are waiting for you down the hall.”

Chelsea pulled a face.

“Is that a problem?”

“No-o-o. Not really. I mean, my mum’s okay, but my dad…”

“What about your dad?”

“Oh, he’s just always on at me, the way I dress, the way I talk, chew gum, the music I listen to.”

Banks smiled. “Mine was the same. Still is.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“It’s funny,” she went on. “I tell myself I don’t really like them, like they’re really naff and all, but at times like this…” A tear rolled down her cheek.

“I know,” said Banks. “Don’t worry. You’ll soon be with them. Soon be tucked up safe and warm in your own bed.”

Chelsea wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “I was just, like, rooted to the spot. I didn’t know what was happening. The one who was following me just stopped and seemed surprised. I don’t think he knew what had happened to him. I didn’t know. I felt something warm spray on my face, and I think I might have screamed. It was all so fast and so ordinary.”

“What did he do next?”

“He went down on his knees. I could hear the cracking sound. I remember thinking it must have hurt, but he didn’t cry out or anything; he just looked surprised. Then he put his hand to his throat, like, and took it away and stared at it, then he fell forward right on his face on the flags. It was terrible. I just stood there. I didn’t know what to do. I could feel all this… stuff on me, warm and sticky stuff, like from a spray, and I didn’t know at first it was blood. It’s silly, but I thought he’d sneezed or something, and I thought, Great, now I’ll get a cold and I won’t be able to go to work. I don’t get paid if I’m not there, you see.”

“Did you get a look at his attacker at all?”

“No. Like I said, she was smaller than him, so most of the time he was in the way, in front, blocking her from view, and then afterward, when he fell, she just sort of melted back into the shadows and I couldn’t see her anymore.”

“You said she.”

“Did I?”

“Yes.”

Chelsea frowned. “Well, I don’t know. That must have been the impression I got. Maybe because she was so small and slight. I can’t be certain, though.”