John Matthews - The Last Witness

Lorena’s closed eyelids pulsed, a moment’s trembling uncertainty which Ryall could feel too through her body; then he watched in satisfaction as her eyes finally snapped open.

‘It wasn’t my idea… wasn’t my idea.’

The phone answered halfway through the third ring, and Bell was immediately passed on to a duty Sergeant. He frantically outlined the problem, his eyes still fixed on the screen six feet away: Lorena now sitting up, eyes wide, her head shaking as she pointed straight ahead at the camera lens.

The Sergeant said that Crowley had gone off duty over two hours ago. ‘…But we’ll phone him at home straightaway and mobilise at the same time.’

Ryall was now joining her in staring at the camera, this time with undisguised hostility. Then his voice came over strongly as he gripped Lorena by the shoulders, shaking her. ‘What have you done… What have you done?’

‘But for God’s sake hurry! There’s probably not much time left.’

‘We should have a squad car there in no more than six or seven minutes.’

Bell leapt back in front of the screen the second he hung up, his hand trembling uncontrollably as he reached out towards the screen again. ‘Hold on, angel. Hold on! We’ll be there soon.’

But he felt totally out of control. It was strange: able to watch every small movement, but unable to do anything. Like watching a sepia horror film which had suddenly spun in the wrong direction, and he’d had to phone someone else to stop the reels.

And as he saw Ryall throw Lorena back against the bed and move towards the camera, his face a mask of fury, he realized they’d probably be too late. He knew what was coming next: Ryall would rip the bear apart and destroy the camera, and it would be lights out: he wouldn’t see what happened when Ryall turned his rage back towards Lorena.

But two paces away from the camera with Ryall’s hand distorted as he reached out, Ryall suddenly stopped, turning towards the side.

‘ What? … What the hell are you doing.’

‘What have you done… What have you done?’

The first sound that Nicola Ryall heard as she reached for the door handle. As she swung it open, he was moving rapidly away from the bed, seemed to be interested in something at the far end of the room — then stopped as he noticed her by the open door, eyes falling quickly to the gun as he asked her what the hell she was doing. A condescending, indignant sneer.

She raised the gun a fraction higher and pointed it at him. ‘Just don’t move!’ It sounded good on the movies, but coming from her, particularly with the tremor in her voice, it sounded lame, pathetic.

Ryall gave it the derision it deserved. ‘What, are you going to shoot me? You?’ One eyebrow raised, his mouth curled into a smile. ‘Anyway, that thing doesn’t even work.’

She hesitated only for a second; she was sure it was a bluff. ‘Yes it does. I tried it out only a few months back,’ she lied. And as she saw his face drop, she knew that it did work. She decided to pile it on. ‘I’m getting quite good with it now.’

Now he looked seriously worried, and raised his hands a bit. She relished the moment, the unfamiliar sense of power over him making her slightly giddy. She should have tried this earlier. She’d hardly ever been able to take control over her own life, let alone anyone else’s.

Ryall met her gaze stonily and shifted a foot back towards Lorena before Nicola waggled the gun at him. ‘I said don’t move.’ A frozen moment between them, then: ‘The phone ringing just then. It was about Mikaya. She tried to take her own life.’

‘What?’ His eyebrows knitted. ‘Is she okay?’

‘She is now.’ Heavy sigh that quickly turned to a sneer. ‘As if you should care. You’re the cause of it.’ She shook her head, her hand tensing on the gun. ‘I let you get away with it with Mikaya for all those years. But not now with Lorena. Not any longer.’

His eyes fixed back on the gun. He leered nervously. ‘You don’t have the guts.’

‘I wouldn’t bank on it.’ She moved a step closer.

Ryall could still pick up the tremor in her voice. He was sure that when it came to the crunch, she’d bottle out; but he wasn’t sure enough to take the risk. He desperately needed a distraction. His eyes darted uncertainly, sweat beads raising on his forehead. The bear!

He forced a strained smile. ‘Anyhow, you shoot me — they’ll get it all on film. They’ll know it wasn’t self-defence.’ He pointed. ‘They’ve got a camera in the bear.’

‘What?’ Nicola glanced towards it incredulously. Camera in the bear? She was the one meant to be on pills and alcohol. ‘Can’t you think of a better bluff than that.’ But as soon as she said it, she realized it was almost too ridiculous to be a bluff.

‘No, no — really. What do you think I was doing when you walked in? I was going to rip the bear apart and smash the camera.’

He was insistent, sounded convincing, and Nicola glanced towards Lorena for confirmation. Lorena just numbly nodded, and looking at her wide-eyed and fearful at this drama being played out, Nicola suddenly had something else to give her pause for thought. As much as he might be a monster, Lorena seeing her stepfather shot in front of her was quite another thing.

‘…So why don’t I just finish the job now and destroy the camera,’ he said. ‘Or better still, since you’re such a good shot — why don’t you shoot it out.’

Nicola looked between him and the bear. He was leering challengingly, as if this was some kind of test between them. If she backed down, once again he’d have the edge.

‘Go on,’ he taunted. ‘You’re the crack shot after all.’

She levelled the gun at the bear; but as the shaking of her gun hand became more pronounced, almost out of control, the game was all but over. He could see through the bluff in that second, see her for the sham she was; the pathetic, quivering wreck she’d become. Fifteen seconds of control in fifteen years: in the end all he’d allowed her.

His leer became wider. ‘You haven’t even got the stomach to shoot a toy bear, let alone me.’

She gritted her teeth hard, struggling to control her trembling, determined to prove him wrong.

As Ryall saw her focus her aim and tense to squeeze the trigger, he made his move, lunging towards Lorena.

The gun swung sharply around, the shot zipping above him and smashing through the window behind. He’d jumped down low, most of his body shielded by the bed as he scrambled on the floor and grappled his arms around Lorena from behind.

As he raised again, he had her pinned tight against him: a complete body shield. His eyes jousted with Nicola’s for a second, as if pressing home who was in control now.

‘Move away from the door or I’ll snap her neck.’ He pulled his forearm tighter around Lorena’s throat to demonstrate.

At the other end of the camera, Bell was on a knife’s edge, his heart like a jackhammer as he watched events unfold. As the gun had pointed at the camera, he’d been screaming, ‘No, no! It’s a trick, a trick! If you’re going to shoot anything, shoot him! ’ Now he was muttering under his breath. ‘Be careful… be careful. Just hold him off — don’t try anything. The cavalry will be there any minute.’

Bell watched Nicola hesitate for a second, then finally move aside a couple of feet as Ryall edged towards her and backed half a step at a time towards the door with Lorena gripped tight to him. As Nicola followed, they were gone from camera vision; all Bell was left with was the sound.

Nicola had moved aside almost mechanically. Afraid that he might harm Lorena, or just following his command the way she’d become programmed to all these years? Only as he edged towards the top of the stairs did the thought hit her.