Simon Beckett - The Chemistry of Death

His expression was far from fond as he came over. 'I'm not going to pretend I'm happy about what you did,' he said, jaw thrust out aggressively. 'I appreciate the help you gave us earlier, but this is a police investigation. There's no room for civilians blundering about in it.'

'I tried to tell you about Brenner but you wouldn't listen. What was I supposed to do?'

I could see he wanted to argue, but he checked himself. 'The superintendent wants to talk to you.'

He led me over to the group of officers at the table and introduced me. A tall, gaunt man with a no-nonsense air of command stuck out his hand.

'I'm Detective Superintendent Ryan. I gather you've got some new information, Dr Hunter?'

I ran through what Scott Brenner had told me, trying to stick to the bare facts. When I'd finished Ryan turned to Mackenzie.

'You know this Carl Brenner, I take it?'

'He's already been interviewed, yes. Fits the profile, but he could account for himself both times when Lyn Metcalf and Jenny Hammond went missing. His family backed him up.'

'There's one more thing,' I interrupted. My heart bumped painfully, but they had to know. 'I told Brenner yesterday that you know the victims have been kept alive.'

'Jesus,' Mackenzie breathed.

'I wanted to make him see it was about more than him and Ben Anders.'

The attempt at justification sounded inadequate even to me. The policemen were staring at me with a mixture of disgust and hostility. Ryan gave a terse nod.

'Thank you for coming in, Dr Hunter,' he said coolly. 'You'll have to excuse us now. We've a lot to do.'

He was already turning away. Mackenzie steered me away. He held himself in check until we were outside.

'What the hell possessed you to tell Brenner that?'

'Because I knew you were questioning the wrong man! And believe me, there's nothing you can say that can make me regret it more than I do already.'

Some of the anger left him as he saw the truth of that. 'It might not make any difference,' he said. 'As long as his brother doesn't say anything, he still doesn't know he's a suspect.'

That didn't make me feel any better. 'Are you going to search the windmill now?'

'As soon as we can. We can't just go charging into a potential hostage situation.'

'It's only Brenner and his cousin!'

'Both possibly armed, and one with military training. You can't launch a raid without planning it first.' He sighed. 'Look, I know this is hard for you. But we know what we're doing, all right? Trust me.'

'I want to come with you.'

Mackenzie's face hardened. 'No chance.'

'I'll stay back with the cars. I won't get in the way.'

'Forget it.'

'She's diabetic, for God's sake!' Heads turned towards us at my raised voice. I made myself lower it. 'I'm a doctor. She'll need insulin straight away. She might be injured or in a coma.'

'We'll have an ambulance and paramedics standing by.'

I tried once more. 'I need to be there. Please!'

But he was already heading back towards the trailer. Almost as an afterthought he turned back to me.

'Don't get any ideas about going out there yourself, Dr Hunter. For your girlfriend's sake, we can do without any distractions.'

He didn't have to say what we both thought. You've done enough damage already.

'All right.'

'Do I have your word on that?'

I took a deep breath. 'Yes.'

His expression softened, if only relatively. 'Just try and stay calm. I'll call you as soon as we have any news.'

Leaving me standing there, he went back inside.

The summer when Jenny was ten her parents had taken her to Cornwall. They'd camped at a site near Penzance, and on the last day her father had driven them along the coast to a small cove. If it had a name she never knew it, only that the sand was fine and white, and the cliffs behind them had been full of nesting birds. It had been a hot day, and the sea had been deliriously cool. She played in the shallows and on the beach, then lay in the sun and read the book she'd been bought. It was The Chronicles of Narnia, by C.S. Lewis, and she'd felt very adult to be reading it on holiday.

They had stayed there all day. There had been a few other families in the cove, but one by one they had all gone until only Jenny and her parents were left. The sun had settled slowly into the sea, casting longer and longer shadows. Not wanting the day to end, Jenny had waited for one of her parents to finally stretch and announce that it was time to leave. But neither did. The afternoon stretched into evening, and still her parents seemed as reluctant to end the holiday as Jenny herself.

They'd put sweaters on when the temperature dropped, laughing at the goosebumps on Jenny's mother when she'd insisted on one final swim. The cove faced into the west, presenting them with a panoramic view of the sunset. It had been glorious, a vast smear of gold and purple, and the three of them had fallen silent to watch as it deepened into night. Only when the last rays of the sun had fallen behind the horizon did her father stir.

'Time to go,' he'd said.

And they had walked back along the beach through the thickening twilight, leaving just the lingering memory of the most perfect day of her childhood.

She thought about it now, conjuring the feel of the sun on her skin and the sand running through her fingers. She could smell the coconut of her mother's sun oil, taste the saline tang of sea on her lips. The cove was still out there, and somewhere in the universe Jenny could almost believe that younger version of herself still existed too, forever caught on the cusp of that never-ending day.

As she lay on the floor of her cell, the ache from her amputated toe had joined with her other wounds to form a rolling wave of pain that seemed to carry her along. But now even that seemed remote, as though she were observing it rather than experiencing it herself. She was drifting in and out of consciousness, finding it harder to distinguish delirium from brutal reality. On one level she knew that was a bad sign, that she was beginning the descent into coma. But perhaps that was better than experiencing whatever her captor had planned. Hey, look on the bright side. One way or another, Jenny knew she was going to die here.

It would be much better if it happened before he came back.

She wondered about her parents now, and what they would do when they heard. She felt sad for them, but only distantly. The thought of David brought a deeper sadness. But there was nothing she could do about that either. Even her fear had become diluted and blurred, like something viewed through water. The emotion that still burned brightest, with a feverish intensity, was anger. Anger at the man prepared to fritter her life away as easily as scattering dust.

During one moment of lucidity she tried working at the knot on her ankle, but it was a feeble attempt. There was no strength left in her fingers, and all too soon her body's shaking made even that impossible. She sank back, exhausted, slipping quickly into delirium again. Once she dreamed that she had the knife her captor had used on her. It was huge and bright, like a sword, and she sliced easily through the rope and felt herself soar weightlessly away, floating into freedom and sunlight.

Then the dream abandoned her, and she was back on the floor of the cellar, filthy and bloodied.

The grating noise seemed like another dream at first. Even the light that spilled on her melded seamlessly into images of blue skies, trees and grass. Only when something struck her face, splitting open the cut on her cheek with a sharpness like ice, did she become aware once more of where she was. She felt someone lift her shoulders off the ground, roughly shake her.

'David…?' she said, trying to make out the blurred figure bending over her. Or perhaps she just tried to say it, because the only sound that escaped her lips was a weak, dry groan. Her head snapped to the side as a rough hand slapped her again.