of Arthur Blythe’s excellent Armagnac in his hand. He turned into his street, shocked to see a trio of fire engines blocking the road ahead. Police cars were jammed around the fire engines, making it impossible to drive further. The pavements were dotted with bystanders, craning their necks for a better view of somebody else’s disaster.
With a terrible sense of foreboding, Tony got out of the car. The smell and taste of smoke hit him, acrid and dense. He walked up the middle of the road, breaking into a run as he rounded the curve and saw flames spearing the sky, jets of water rising against them. The smoke was making his eyes water, but he could still make out where the fire was. He broke into a run, tears streaming down his cheeks, yelling wordlessly.
A bulky body stepped into his path, grabbing him close and tight. ‘Tony,’ Ambrose said. ‘I’m sorry.’
Tony bared his teeth in a primitive snarl. ‘Never crossed my fucking mind,’ he forced out between sobs. ‘Never crossed my fucking mind.’ He smashed his head into Ambrose’s shoulder. ‘Useless bastard,’ he cried. ‘No use to Carol, no use to myself, no fucking use to anyone.’
38
Paula huddled over the cup of hospital coffee, shivering with shock. Kevin was sitting on the floor in the corner of the relatives’ waiting room, arms round his knees, staring intently at the coarse fibres of the carpet tiles. ‘I keep thinking it should have been me,’ Paula said through chattering teeth.
‘No, it should have been Carol,’ Kevin said, his voice low and rough. ‘That’s who it was meant for. Her cat, her flat. Jacko Vance strikes again. Jesus Christ.’
‘I know it was meant for Carol. But it was me that should have taken the bullet for her, not Chris.’
‘You think she’d have been any happier about that?’ Kevin said. ‘She cares about you both. She cares about all of us. Just like we care about her. The only person who’s got guilt on this one is Vance.’
‘We don’t tell Carol, OK?’
‘We can’t keep something like this from her. She’s bound to find out. It’ll be all over the media.’
‘Blake said they were putting it out as an accident right now. No mention of Vance. Carol’s got enough on her plate, dealing with what happened to Michael and Lucy. She can learn about this later.’
Kevin looked doubtful. ‘I don’t know … ’
‘Look, we’ll tell Tony. See what he says. He knows her better than anyone else. He’ll know whether we should tell her or not. OK?’
‘OK,’ Kevin conceded.
They subsided again, each lost in their own painful thoughts. After a while, Kevin said, ‘Where did you say Sinead was?’
‘Brussels. She’ll be on the first flight she can get. It might not be till morning, though. You should go home, Kevin. One of us needs to get some sleep.’
Before he could speak, the door opened and a tall man in scrubs walked in. His skin was the colour of a manila envelope and his eyes looked as if they’d seen even more than the two cops. ‘You’re Christine Devine’s family?’ He sounded suspicious.
‘Kind of,’ Kevin said, scrambling to his feet to meet the doctor on his own terms. ‘We’re cops. We work in the same elite unit. We’re like family.’
‘I shouldn’t talk to anyone other than immediate family or next of kin.’
‘Her partner is flying back from Brussels. We’re here in her place,’ Paula said bleakly. ‘Please, tell us how Chris is doing.’
‘Her condition is very serious,’ the doctor said. ‘She’s had sulphuric acid thrown in her face. It’s a corrosive, so she has extensive burning to the skin. What makes acid burns worse than fire burns is the degree of dehydration the acid causes. Your friend’s face is very badly burned. She will be extensively and permanently scarred. She has lost the sight of both eyes.’
Paula cried out, covering her mouth with her hand. Kevin reached over and gripped her shoulder tightly.
‘None of that is life-threatening,’ the doctor continued. ‘But she has swallowed and inhaled droplets of acid and that’s a much greater cause for concern. There’s a risk of fluid building up in the lungs. We’ll be watching very carefully over the coming days and hours. For now, we’ve put her in a medically induced coma. It gives her body a chance to start the recovery process. And it keeps her from having to endure the pain.’
‘How long will she be like that?’ Paula asked.
‘It’s difficult to say. A few days at least. Possibly longer.’ He sighed. ‘There’s nothing more I can tell you. You should probably go home and get some rest. There’s unlikely to be any change soon.’
He turned to leave, then looked back at them. ‘Your friend is facing a long and difficult road back to anything approaching normal life. She’s going to need you then a lot more than she needs you now.’ The door swung shut behind him.
‘Fuck,’ Kevin said. ‘Did you ever see that documentary about Katie Piper, the model who had acid thrown in her face?’
‘No.’
‘I wouldn’t recommend you watch it any time soon.’ His voice cracked and suddenly the room was filled with the sound of his sobs. Paula took him in her arms and together they stood in the grim little room and cried for everything that had been lost.
It wasn’t the first time Carol had broken the news of a child’s death. But it was definitely the worst. There was something profoundly wrong about being the one to deliver such catastrophic grief to your own parents’ door. But it was still better than having a stranger play that role, even though she knew her mother would never be able to open the door to her again without remembering that terrible moment.
At the words, ‘Michael’s dead,’ her mother had fallen into her arms. The strength had gone from Jane Jordan’s body; all her power had been routed into the terrible wailing sound that issued from her mouth. Carol’s father had come running from the kitchen at the sound and stood helpless, not knowing what was going on.
