Luke Delaney - The Keeper

‘I remember,’ said Deborah.

‘His name suits him. Honest and strong. Not the most handsome, not the funniest or cleverest, but good and reliable. I don’t know how he’s going to be when he finds out what’s happened to me. I’m worried he’ll never forgive himself for not being there to stop it, for not being able to save me.’

‘You shouldn’t think like that,’ Deborah said, more because it was torture for her, having to listen to it, than out of any wish to help Louise.

‘I miss him so much,’ Louise continued. ‘I even miss the children — isn’t that ridiculous? I miss the children we haven’t even had. We talked about them so often I can see their faces, the shades of their hair, their freckles. I can smell them — somehow I can feel them, yet they don’t exist, and now they never will.’

‘Because of me,’ Deborah snapped. ‘That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? They won’t exist because of me.’

‘No,’ Louise answered, her dry, shrunken lips forming a tiny smile. ‘No matter what you did, you didn’t bring me here. He’s the one that did that.’

‘Listen,’ Deborah sighed, ‘I was brought up in New Cross, you know it?’

‘A little.’

‘Then you know what it’s like. I was the only girl with three older brothers and I had to fight for everything. Sometimes I even had to fight my brothers for food or go hungry. I had to fight the other kids at school or forever be picked on. Whatever I got, I got it myself. Where I grew up, there was only one rule — look after number one, because nobody else would. So when I saw my chance I took it, and I was wrong. I should have got the keys and let you out. I should have given you the same chance I had, but I didn’t. I’m ashamed of my instinct, but if your life had been like mine you’d have run too, no matter what you think you’d have done. I promise you, you would have run.’

Neither spoke for a long while. Then Louise broke the silent tension.

‘Are you loved?’ she asked. ‘Like I’m loved by John. Does anyone love you like that?’

‘I don’t know … my mum, brothers.’

‘No, not like that. A man — a man who’s your soul mate. Or a woman?’

‘Maybe there’s a man. His name’s Sam. I haven’t known him long.’

‘Sam — that’s a good name.’

‘I think he’s a good man, but I don’t miss him the way you miss John. I’m alone down here. You have John and your imagined children, but I’m alone. I can’t escape this hell, not even for a second.’ There was another lengthy silence between them. ‘I still keep thinking this has to be a nightmare — that I’ll wake up soon. But it’s been going on too long to be a nightmare, hasn’t it? And the pain, you don’t feel pain like this in nightmares, so I know it’s real, but I still can’t believe it.’

‘We’re here, aren’t we? And we’re real. Out there, people we’ve never met or known will be watching the news, following our story, looking at photographs of us, listening to our families appealing to this bastard to let us go unharmed. But you’re right, we won’t be real to them. They’ll feel nothing for us. To them, we’re light entertainment. We’re only real to the people who love us. No one else cares. Once we’re dead, so is the story and we’ll be forgotten by everyone but those who love us.’

‘Then those who love us won’t give up on us and we shouldn’t give up on them. And the police, they won’t give up on us. They’ll keep looking for us. They won’t stop. They can’t.’

‘The police? How could they possibly find us down here? What could lead them to … him. You’ve heard him, you’ve seen him. He’s completely insane. The police like things to make sense — a motive they can understand. Who could ever understand this lunatic?’ Louise laughed quietly and cynically, the effort making her cough. ‘What policeman on the face of God’s earth could ever understand this madman enough to find him? If there is such a man, then may God pity his soul.’

Sean and Anna entered the mortuary area in Guy’s Hospital and went straight to the chapel that was attached to the complex. He’d been tempted to enter via the autopsy area, to show his face to Dr Canning and to see how Anna would react to being in the company of the dead, but had decided her reaction to seeing Karen Green’s lifeless body would be enough. Inside the chapel was quiet and peaceful, feeling more like a church than a hospital, the walls painted a tranquil dark purple. Someone had even gone to the lengths of hanging long red curtains either side of the door the relatives would soon be brought through, despite the fact there were no windows. A crucifix bearing the body of Christ overlooked the scene below. A coffin-shaped, padded casket lay at the centre of the room on a low table that had been draped in red cloth that spread to the floor. Karen Green’s body lay within.

Sean crossed the floor and looked into the long box. She’d been prepared well, as all murder victims were here, by Dr Canning’s assistant and a little technical help from a local undertakers. A purple satin sheet covered her body, leaving only her face on show. Canning’s team had worked miracles on her facial injuries and had even taken time to prepare her hair as best they could, brushing it neatly to one side so as not to obscure any of her once pretty face. He fought hard not to reach out and touch her face, as if somehow feeling her cold skin would connect him to the man who had ripped her young life away. Anna’s voice close behind him dragged him back.

‘I wasn’t expecting it to be like this.’

‘What were you expecting?’

‘I don’t know. Just … not this.’

‘Did you think we were going to take her family into the main mortuary and slide her out of the freezer, pull back the green sheet and ask “Is this her?”’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You’ve been watching too many TV cop shows.’

‘Maybe.’

‘How many dead bodies have you seen?’ he asked, suspecting he already knew the answer.

‘None,’ she answered quickly and truthfully. He said nothing, but nodded his head knowingly.

Anna could sense his slight hostility and disapproval, as if she hadn’t earned the right to be there in the same room as Karen Green or to be part of a murder investigation. He’d spent most of his adult life dealing with the unthinkable while she’d been cocooned in universities, giving lectures and writing books. She stepped forward and looked at Karen Green, her crystal green eyes now covered with dead eyelids. ‘She looks peaceful, despite everything she must have been through.’

Sean looked away from the body to Anna, whose eyes were still fixed on Karen Green. He looked her up and down while she wasn’t watching, judging her before responding to what she’d said. ‘She didn’t when she was lying in the woods. She didn’t look peaceful then. They never do. They look … broken, like their souls have been torn away against their will. Death brings no peace.’

She looked at him from the corner of her eyes, feeling his cold blue stare. He was waiting for a reaction — a chance to study her the way she was used to studying others. The sound of his phone ringing made him look away.

‘Hello.’

‘Guv’nor, it’s Sally. Uniform have found Deborah Thomson’s car abandoned on Tooting Common, close to the outdoor swimming pool.’ He didn’t know the area, but the picture in his mind was vivid: a dirt-road leading to a secluded parking area, leafless trees bending slightly in the breeze as if reaching out for the car.

‘Shit,’ he cursed. ‘Have we got anyone left who can cover the scene?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Sally told him. ‘That last box of soldiers you opened is just about empty. We’re running out of people faster than we can replace them. This guy is getting ahead of us, Sean.’