Michael Robotham - Shatter

‘How?’ asks the DI.

‘We offer him his daughter.’

‘But we don’t have her. The family won’t co-operate, you said so yourself.’

‘We bluff him just like he bluffed Christine Wheeler and Sylvia Furness and Maureen Bracken. We convince him that we have Chloe and Helen.’

Veronica Cray looks at me incredulously. ‘You want to lie to him.’

‘I want to bluff him. Tyler knows his wife and daughter are alive. And he knows we have the resources to get them here. If he wants to talk to them or see them, he has to give up Charlie and Julianne first.’

‘He won’t believe you. He’ll want proof,’ says the DI.

‘I just have to keep him on the line and make him stay in one place. I’ve read Chloe’s journal. I know where she’s been. I can bluff him.’

‘What if he wants to talk to her?’

‘I’ll tell him that she’s on her way or that she doesn’t want to talk. I’ll make excuses.’

DI Cray sucks air through nostrils that pinch and then flare as she exhales. Her jaw muscles are working under her flesh.

‘What makes you think he’ll buy this?’

‘It’s what he wants to believe.’

Ruiz suddenly pipes up. ‘I think it’s a good idea. So far Tyler has had us running around like our butts are on fire. Maybe the Professor’s right and we can light a fire under him. It’s worth a try.’

The DI pulls a packet of cigarettes from her drawer and glances dismissively at the NO SMOKING sign.

‘On one condition,’ she says pointing an unlit cigarette at Ruiz. ‘You go back out to see Helen Chambers. Tell her what we’re doing. It’s about time someone in that bloody family stood up to be counted.’

Ruiz steps back and lets me leave the office first.

‘You’re crazy,’ he mutters, once we’re out of earshot. ‘You can’t really think you can bluff this guy.’

‘Why did you agree with me?’

He shrugs and gives me a rueful sigh. ‘Ever heard the joke about the nursery school teacher who stands up in front of the class and says, “If anyone feels stupid, I want you to stand up.” Well this little boy, Jimmy, gets to his feet and the teacher says, “Do you really feel stupid, Jimmy?”

‘And Jimmy says, “No, miss, I just didn’t want you standing up there all alone.” ’

Lying on a thin mattress on the far side of the room I watch the girl sleeping. She whimpers in her dreams, rocking her head from side to side. My Chloe used to do that when she had a nightmare.

I get up and cross the floor. The dream has taken hold. Her body heaves beneath the quilt as she fights to get away. My hand reaches out and I touch her arm. She stops whimpering. I go back to my mattress.

Later, she wakes properly and sits up, peering into the darkness. She’s looking for me.

‘Are you there?’

I don’t answer.

‘Talk to me, please.’

‘What do you want?’

‘I want to go home.’

‘Go back to sleep.’

‘I can’t.’

‘What was your nightmare about?’

‘I didn’t have a nightmare.’

‘Yes, you did. You were moaning.’

‘I don’t remember.’

She turns her face to the closed curtains. Light is leaking around the edges. I can make out more of her features. I have ruined her hair but it will grow back again.

‘Am I a long way from home?’ she asks.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean in miles. Is it a long way?’

‘No.’

‘Could I make it if I walked all day?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘You could let me go and I could walk home. I wouldn’t tell anyone where you live. I wouldn’t know how to find it again.’

I move across the room and turn on a bedside lamp. Shadows run away. I hear a sound from outside. I hold a finger to my lips.

‘I didn’t hear anything,’ she says.

In the distance I hear a dog bark.

‘Maybe it was the dog.’

‘Yes.’

‘I have to go to the toilet. Please don’t watch me.’

‘I’ll turn my back.’

‘You could go outside.’

‘Is that what you want?’

‘Yes.’

I leave the bedroom and stand on the landing. I can hear her shuffling across the floor and the tinkle of her urine in the bowl.

She’s finished. I knock on the door.

‘Can I come back in?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I had an accident.’

I push open the door. She is standing in the bathroom, trying to dab a dark stain from the crotch of her jeans.

‘You should take them off. I’ll dry them.’

‘That’s OK.’

‘I’ll get you something else to wear.’

‘I don’t want to take them off.’

‘You can’t stay in wet jeans.’

I leave her and look in the main bedroom, which has built-in wardrobes and chests of drawers. The trousers and sweaters are too big for her. I find a white bathrobe on a hanger. It belongs to a hotel. Even a rich Arab isn’t beyond stealing a hotel robe. Maybe that’s why he’s so rich.

I bring it back. I have to unchain her feet so she can pull off her jeans. She makes me leave the room.

‘The window is locked. You can’t escape,’ I tell her.

‘I won’t.’

I listen at the door until she tells me I can come back in. The bathrobe is too big for her, falling past her knees to her ankles. I take her jeans and wash them in the sink. There is no hot water. The boiler has been turned off. Twisting the jeans into a coil, I wring out the water and hang them over the back of a chair.

I can feel her watching me.

‘Did you really kill Darcy’s mother?’

It’s a nervous question.

‘She jumped.’

‘Did you tell her to jump?’

‘Could someone make you jump?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t think so.’

‘Well, I guess you’re safe.’

Rummaging in my backpack, I take out a small can of pears and open it with a tin opener.

‘Here. You should eat something.’

She takes the can and eats the slippery pieces of fruit, sucking the juice from her fingers.

‘Be careful. The edges are sharp.’

Lifting the can to her lips she drinks the juice, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Then she leans back, wrapping the robe around her. The sky is growing brighter outside. She can see more of the room.

‘Are you going to kill me?’

‘Is that what you think?’

‘I don’t know.’ Her bottom lip is bitten.

It’s my turn to ask a question. ‘Would you kill me if you had the chance?’

She frowns. There are twin creases above the bridge of her nose. ‘I don’t think I could.’

‘What if I was threatening your family- your mother or your father or your sister- would you kill me then?’

‘I don’t know how.’

‘What if you had a gun?’

‘Maybe. I guess.’

‘So we’re not so different, you and me. We’ll both kill if the circumstances are right. You’ll kill me and I’ll kill you.’

A tear squeezes silently from the corner of her eye.

‘I have to go out again in a little while.’

‘Don’t leave.’

‘I won’t be long.’

‘I don’t like being alone.’

‘I have to chain your feet again.’

‘Don’t cover my face.’

‘Just your mouth.’

I rip a length of masking tape from the spool.

‘I heard you before,’ she says, before I can cover her mouth. ‘You were doing this to someone else.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I heard you pulling tape from a spool thing like this one. You were downstairs.’

‘You heard that.’

‘Yes. Is there someone else here?’

‘You ask too many questions.’

I push the loop of the padlock until the chains on her ankles are secure.

‘I’m going to trust you again not to take this tape off your mouth. If you disappoint me, I will put the hose back down your throat and cover your head. Do you understand?’