Майкл Ридпат: The Predator

Megan blushed and looked up at Eric. The look of concern in his eyes was much more than worry about an old friend from a previous life. ‘Thank you,’ Megan said, and touched his hand.

Eric smiled at her. They sat like that, her hand touching his, for a moment that felt to Megan to last for ever.

‘Let’s talk about something else,’ said Eric eventually. ‘What are the famous Cambridge dons like? Are they all as crazy as they look? And what do they all do now they can’t recruit spies for the KGB any more?’

Megan launched into a description of some of the eccentrics she had met in her college. That led on to exchanging memories of their professors at Amherst. Then the conversation became more personal. They discussed the major decisions they had taken in their lives, and why they had taken them.

Eric began to talk about Cassie. ‘You met her, didn’t you?’ he asked.

‘Yes. A couple of times, when you first went out with her.’

‘What did you think of her?’

‘She was nice. Very pretty, obviously. I can’t say I liked her, but I was a bit biased at the time.’

‘Sorry,’ Eric said. ‘Stupid question. But you’re right. She seemed like the perfect woman. Beautiful, intelligent, charming.’

‘And her father is a bigshot in the Republican Party.’

‘That’s unfair.’

‘Sorry.’ But Megan wasn’t. She didn’t like this listing of Cassie’s charms.

Then Eric frowned. ‘I don’t know. Although I never admitted it to anyone, that probably was something else in her favour. In fact, she seemed perfect in every way. All my friends said so. And for the first couple of years they were probably right.’

Megan’s pulse quickened. ‘The first couple of years?’

‘Yes,’ Eric said, and fell silent.

‘Why? What happened then?’

‘I don’t know. It was nothing she did; she’s always been the perfect wife. It was more me. I came to realize that I needed something else from the person I was supposed to love for the rest of my life. Something that for some reason Cassie couldn’t give me.’

‘Something else? What do you mean?’

‘I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.’ Then he looked directly at Megan. ‘Well, actually I do know. And so do you.’

Megan did her best to fight the surge of excitement within her. She knew it! Her feeling that there was a unique bond between them was confirmed. Eric knew it too, she was sure. ‘That’s a bit tough on Cassie, isn’t it?’ she said carefully.

Eric nodded. ‘It is. And I feel so bad thinking it. So ungrateful for all she does for me. But I can’t help it. And it’s one of those ideas, that once you get it, it doesn’t go away.’

‘Are you going to do anything about it?’ Megan asked. For a moment, she thought she had gone too far, but she had to know. She just had to know.

Eric looked confused. ‘I don’t know. The truth is, most of the time I’m thinking about work. And I love Wilson. No. I expect we’ll just drift further and further apart. It’s sad, though.’

Megan’s throat felt dry. ‘Yes, it is.’

She felt like throwing herself on him right there and then. But she knew that he was still married, and despite his unhappiness, from the sound of it there was no imminent bust-up likely. He gave no hint that he had ever been unfaithful; on the contrary, he gave the impression of being a dutiful, if occasionally absent, husband. She couldn’t be responsible for breaking up a family, could she? And what about Chris? Starting something with Eric would be very cruel to him. And she didn’t want to be cruel to Chris.

Eric glanced at their empty beer glasses. ‘I think it might have stopped raining. How about we go find somewhere to have dinner?’

‘Yes,’ she said immediately. She couldn’t have said otherwise: she had no choice.

Eventually, Chris’s train began to move, and ten minutes later it pulled into Cambridge. Duncan had been delayed by the same level-crossing incident. Chris waited the couple of minutes for him to arrive, and after exchanging curses they jumped into a taxi. The rain had snarled up the traffic, and it was twenty minutes before the taxi reached a small residential road by the river.

Chris and Duncan ran over the footbridge to the Fort St George. They scoured the place, but no sign of Eric and Megan. Chris grabbed the barman’s attention, a lanky boy with spots and an earring. ‘Have you seen two Americans in here? A tall man and a girl with long dark curly hair?’

‘Oh yeah,’ he said. ‘They left a couple of minutes ago.’

‘Thanks.’ Chris turned to Duncan. ‘They’ve probably headed back across the green towards the town. Let’s go.’

They ran out of the pub, and surveyed the acres of parkland surrounding them. It was very dark, and although streetlamps illuminated a road that crossed the green they couldn’t see either of them.

‘Come on,’ said Chris, and he set out along a path that led to the lights of Jesus College and the centre of the town. He ran fast, praying that Megan was all right, that Eric hadn’t touched her, that Eric wouldn’t touch her.

Terry looked up from the portable chess set on the front seat beside him, and saw the two figures leaping out of the taxi and rushing over the bridge. He recognized them immediately. As the taxi drew away, he was just about to get out of his own car, when he saw another cab pull up. This time a tall man in a long coat appeared, looked over the bridge where the other two had disappeared, and followed them.

Terry went after the three of them, his senses alive. It looked like the boss was going to need some help.

Chris ran steadily, peering into the darkness of Jesus Green. He could hear Duncan puffing along behind him. Then he saw them: two figures walking slowly towards the town. He increased his speed to a sprint. They turned as they heard him approach. It was Eric and Megan.

Chris came to a halt beside them, out of breath. They were in the middle of the green, far from any buildings. No one else was near them.

‘Chris! What the hell are you doing here?’ Megan exclaimed. ‘And why did you bring him with you?’

Duncan joined them, panting heavily.

‘I need to talk to you,’ Chris said between breaths.

‘Well, we don’t need to talk to you.’

‘Please, Megan. This is important.’

Megan threw Chris an impatient look. But there was hesitation in it also.

‘Come on, Megan,’ Eric said, taking her arm.

‘No, stay!’ Chris’s tone changed from pleading to a command.

‘What is this, Chris?’ Megan protested.

‘I’m just trying to keep you alive, that’s all. Keep us all alive.’

‘That’s ridiculous. Look, why don’t you talk to Eric sensibly? He can help you.’

‘Wait, Megan,’ said Eric. ‘I’ve kept out of this so far, and I want to stay out of it. As long as you’re safe, that’s all I care about. Chris can dream up all the wild theories he likes, but I’m having nothing to do with it. Now let’s go.’

Chris glanced at Megan. She looked at him with a mixture of confusion and anger. He couldn’t let Eric walk off with her.

‘Stop!’ he said, grabbing hold of Eric’s arm.

Eric turned and glared at him. ‘Get your hands off me!’

‘Yeah, stop,’ said Duncan. He stepped forward, brandishing the kitchen knife at Eric, a light sliver of grey in the darkness.

Eric froze. Megan let out a small scream.

Chris’s first thought was to step back and let Duncan stick the knife into Eric. Maybe he could even help him. Then sense took over. ‘Duncan. Hold on. Don’t do it.’

‘Why not? He killed my friends. He’ll kill us if we let him. He deserves to die.’