to Magnet House and put everything from McQuarry’s pockets: the luggage, passports, everything, back in the flat.’ He gave her the security card for the car park. ‘Leave the car in the darkest bay and cover Mike’s blood with a blanket, then get back to your room at the Midland. You’re ill. You tell Joshua you have to go home. I assume you still have a home?’ She nodded. ‘No dramatic notes telling the world everything?’ This time she shook her head. ‘When you leave tomorrow put all the keys and the card in a padded envelope and leave it at the front desk for me. You’re all over that flat so we can’t risk it being discovered. When things die down, I’ll sort things out.’
She looked at him. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘You have to hurry.’
Nicole put a hand on his and sought his eyes. ‘You don’t have to risk everything for me.’
‘Sorenson did.’
‘But now I know what I’ve done. I have to pay for that.’
Brook looked up at her. ‘You have paid. And if you’re anything like me, you’ll keep paying. That’s why I have to help you.’ Nicole was still perplexed. ‘When you were asleep you kept mumbling your sister’s name. You suffered a trauma no child should have to go through. And you were fifteen when Sorenson got hold of you. You were easy meat. Don’t you see? The private tutor, the career choice — Sorenson controlled you, groomed you.’ Now it was Brook’s turn to look away. ‘I should know. He did the same to me. And no matter what he’d done to save you, you had a right to a normal life or at least a shot at one. Sorenson denied you that.’
Nicole stared at her hands unable to speak.
‘You’ve lost half your life, Nicole. Some killers get out in ten years. You know what you’ve done? Well, that’s the point. And you have a chance that most killers never get. You have another life to step into and a job that will allow you to spend the rest of that life making amends. What I can do, you can do. Now go.’
Finally she looked at him. ‘What will you say?’
‘I’ll think of something. I’ve had a lot of practice.’
‘But if Agent Drexler makes it-’
‘He’s been shot. If he makes it, he won’t remember anything for a while.’
‘I still don’t-’
Brook got her to her feet. ‘Call it a leap of faith.’ Nicole moved into him and kissed him softly on the lips. He pulled her away. ‘Goodbye, Nicole. Next time we meet you can tell me all about the Golden Nugget.’
‘Call me Laura.’ Her eyes lingered over his, then she hurried out, grabbing a white coat from a hook as she went.
Brook looked after her. ‘Laura — beautiful name.’
Epilogue
Denise Ottoman had blinked in disbelief at the crowds outside the police station. There were journalists screaming questions at her, including that pushy one from the
Even at home there were well-wishers and back-clappers, though the two uniformed officers managed to get her inside unmolested. Hours later, she was sitting up in bed with a mug of cocoa, pulling her legs into her chest as hard as she could. It was nearing midnight — the telephone was off the hook and the freshening wind had dispersed the crowd who had gone to their own beds. Denise took a sip of lukewarm cocoa. No sleep without John.
She put her cup on the floor and just lay in the dark with her eyes closed. A creaking noise above opened them. A prolonged scrape followed a second later. She switched on the bedside lamp. It didn’t come on. She peered at it in the gloom. The bulb was missing so she jumped out of bed and reached for the bedroom curtain, yanking it brusquely to let the moonlight in. A small column of dust falling from the ceiling sparkled in the lunar radiance and Denise followed it to its source. The trapdoor to the loft was shifting as though being lifted from above, and Denise Ottoman wondered if the wind had dislodged more roof tiles.
Then a foot in a black shoe dropped down, followed by a second. Denise shrank to the ground, wrapping the curtain around her, daring neither to look nor look away. Her scream of shock emerged as a mouse-like whimper and her heart skipped as black-clad legs, torso and head fell to the floor.
From the black ball a figure began to unravel like a newborn foal slowly clambering to its feet. Once upright, new lungs inflated with oxygen and new hands mimicked the sensation of first touch. Inch by tiny inch, the figure rotated the half circle to lay eyes on the squirming Denise, her bare feet pushing at the carpet, trying to force herself through the wall behind her.
A black-gloved palm was crossed with flashing steel and Jason’s grinning teeth followed suit.
‘I’m ready, bitch. Are you?’
