Alex Palmer - Blood Redemption

Life’s a matter of give and take. Let’s be friends. Come on. Be friends with me, Lucy, before I die. Please.’

She waited in what seemed to be an endless silence, looking from one to the other expectantly, but neither of them spoke. She sat with her arms folded, pressing her gun hard into her waist.

‘You really don’t want to say anything else to me?’ she asked.

Neither replied.

‘You only have to say it once. You have to mean it, but you only have to say it once. You just have to say you wish you’d never done that to me. That’s all you have to say.’

Again there was silence. Her mother picked at her cardigan. Lucy spoke in desperation. ‘It’s not just me! There’s Mel too. What about her? Don’t you want to say … ’

Her voice dried up.

‘Luce,’ her father said, ‘I only want us to be friends. This is our last chance. I’m dying. You don’t want to put things in the way of it. Let’s just be friends.’

Lucy leaned forward in her chair and wept for some moments. She looked up, meaning to say something else and saw her father watching her, his expression still unchanged. If anything, there was a ghost of satisfaction in his eyes. She could not bear to be watched by him like this.

‘I’m going back to my room now,’ she said, ‘but you — you can’t

— You’re going to talk to me again, Dad. You are. You are going to say — ’

She stopped and stood up to leave the room, still weeping. At the door, she almost walked into Melanie.

‘Don’t you want your tea? It’s on the table,’ her sister asked.

‘Fucking later,’ she said.

‘Language!’ she heard her father say, with the remembrance of a usual reprimand in his voice.

Lucy stopped still in the doorway and spoke without turning around. ‘Don’t you say that to me.’

Then she did turn and went towards him. Her hand moved instinctively towards her waistband before she remembered to stop herself. For the first time, he seemed confused. She stood over him.

‘Don’t you ever tell me what to say again.’

Anger had made her voice almost unrecognisable. He did not speak, there was sweat on his cheeks. Everyone in the room was silent.

‘You won’t, will you? Ever again.’

He shook his head.

‘You say it, Dad. Go on, say it.’

‘No, I won’t,’ he eventually whispered.

They looked at each other.

‘I’m going to come and talk to you again, Dad,’ she said. ‘Because you owe me something. You know you do. And you are going to give it to me.’

He stared at her, showing anger and fear without any sense of disguise, and then rolled away from her, turning his back on her, refusing to speak.

Lucy left at once, moving quickly and hearing behind her as she climbed the stairs a sudden ruckus in the lounge room. The noise of her father calling out hoarsely for Melanie and the sound of the television set being turned on again.

In her room, she emptied her pack out onto her bed, scrabbling for her notebook computer, clumsy as she hurried, wiping away tears with the back of her hand. Lucy was going out on the Net to find consolation, someone to talk to, to get the buzzing out of her head.

She set up her computer on her old desk, illuminated it with her desk lamp, plugged in the phone charger and then turned on her mobile telephone, intending to connect to her ISP. She took the gun out of her waistband and placed it next to the notebook. As she did, the mobile phone rang. She let it ring until it stopped. Then, as she was about to pick it up, it rang again. She looked at it for a few moments then answered it.

‘Yeah,’ she said. As she had expected, she heard the preacher’s honey voice in reply.

‘Lucy? Is that you? You sound very different.’

‘Hi, Graeme,’ she said in an unconcerned tone. ‘Do I? I don’t know why, I’m just the same as I was yesterday.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. I was wondering how you were. I’ve been thinking about you every single moment since I found you gone.’

‘I bet you have. But everybody always worries about me so there’s no reason why you shouldn’t as well. I’m fine. Great, you know,’ she replied. There was a moment of silence. ‘What do you want? I guess you want something. That’s why you’re calling me.’

‘Yes, Lucy, I do want something. I want very much to see you. I’ve been trying to ring you all day but your phone’s been switched off. I don’t think you should have done that.’

‘Don’t you? Gee, it’s too bad I forgot to turn it on.’

Lucy sat on the bed among the scattered goods that she had emptied out of her pack. She dragged her sleeping bag across her knees in the cold room.

‘Do you know Greg is in custody?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, I heard.’

There was a pause.

‘You have good information. You obviously know who to ask. And where to find things.’

‘Yeah, I’m good at that,’ she said.

‘I’m going to get him bailed into my care, Lucy.’

‘Are you? I don’t think you’ll be able to do that. They won’t want to let him go this time.’

‘I can certainly try. I have contacts too. In fact, I think I’ve got a very good chance of doing just that.’

Lucy bit her lip.

‘What do you want, Graeme?’

‘I want to see you. I really think you should come and meet with me.’

She did not answer. ‘I don’t think you can get him bailed,’ she said instead.

‘We’ll see. Ria has told me he is likely to be charged with being an accessory to murder.’

‘Did she ring you?’

‘She left a message on my answering machine. The sort of message Ria Allard usually leaves on my answering machine. But fortunately, I won’t have to hear from her again.’

‘Greg doesn’t know anything about it,’ Lucy said, dismissively.

‘You said he did, Lucy.’

‘Yeah, but not like that, I mean. He wasn’t involved or anything.’

‘I don’t think that will make any difference to the police. I think you’ll find that being an accessory is exactly what he is. Apparently they have assigned a policewoman to deal with him. She will be interviewing him regularly from now on. We’ll see what happens, won’t we? Whether or not he lives up to your expectations and really does keep his mouth shut.’

‘It’s not murder anyway, Graeme. You said it was a cleansing.’

‘I’m talking about how the police will see it,’ he replied, speaking sharply. Lucy smiled to hear the irritation in his voice.

‘What do you want?’ she asked.

‘Lucy, I’ve already told you. I want to see you. Soon. Somewhere private.’

There was a knock on Lucy’s door. She reached for her gun and slipped it out of sight under the sleeping bag.

‘There’s someone here, I’ve got to go. Even if you can get Greg bailed, he won’t go with you. So it doesn’t matter.’

‘He won’t have any choice. None whatsoever. The police will hand him over directly to me. He’ll pass from one sort of custody into another. After all, the only way he can avoid that is to tell them about you. Isn’t that so?’

The preacher’s voice had dropped to a strange, low whisper heard as a rustle within the inner ear. Lucy was silent for some time.

‘Are you still there?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, I’m here.’

‘Good. Because if you are so concerned about him, you should be very careful what you do from now on. And very careful who you talk to and what you say to them. Because I don’t think Greg could be stopped if he decided to do something foolish while he’s in my care. Do you? And I can’t be held responsible for a suicide or an accidental death, can I? I’ll ring you tomorrow, Lucy. Leave your phone on.’

‘You can’t make me do anything, Graeme,’ she said, and hung up, tossing the phone on the bed. She opened the door and saw Stephen standing there, carrying a small two-bar heater.