I crawled out of bed and answered it. It was Cameron. He was whispering.
“I just grabbed a moment,” he said. “I miss you so much.”
“Good,” I said.
“I’m desperate to see you,” he hissed. “I can’t not be with you. I’ve arranged that I can get away in the late afternoon. Can I come and see you around four?”
“Oh, yes,” I said.
I spent the day in a sullen fog. Lynne and I went out for a couple of hours, walking around the market at Camden Lock, but that was just because it made it easier not to speak, or at least not to speak about anything important, and not to listen to any more lies. Cameron arrived at exactly four o’clock. He was wearing jeans and a loose blue shirt. He hadn’t shaved. He looked more rumpled than usual. I could see that he was even more handsome than ever, less buttoned up. He told Lynne he’d take over for a couple of hours. There were some matters about the upcoming week he wanted to discuss with me. Lynne hung around as she always did. Did she guess what was going on? How could she not? But on this occasion I found the delay almost unbearable. I felt I could hardly restrain myself, that I would damage myself. Finally her feet clattered up the steps to the pavement and disappeared. Cameron gently closed the front door behind her and turned to me.
“Oh Nadia,” he said.
I walked toward him. I had prepared myself for this moment for the whole day since I had talked to him on the phone. He reached his arms out toward me. I clenched my fist as hard as I could. When I was a foot away I looked him in the eyes and then, with all my strength, I punched him in the face.
TEN
He lifted his hands to his face. Was it in self-defense or to hit back? I stood with my chin up, almost daring him to strike. But then he lowered his hands and took a pace backward.
“What the fuck?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was cold. His eyes were cold. His handsome face looked heavy and stupid and vicious. I saw with satisfaction that blood trickled down from his nostril, where my ring had nicked it.
“I know, Detective Inspector Stadler.”
“What?”
“I know everything.”
“What are you going on about?”
“Did it turn you on?”
“What?” he said again. “What?” He wiped the blood away from his nose and examined his fingers.
“It did, didn’t it? It turned you on, thinking that you were fucking a woman who was going to die.”
“You’re hysterical,” he said, voice flat with contempt.
I jabbed him in the chest with a forefinger.
“Jennifer Hintlesham. Does that name ring any bells for you?”
His expression changed; the first glimmering of comprehension crept across his features.
“Nadia,” he said. He took a step toward me and put out his hand, as if I were a wild animal that needed coaxing. “Nadia, please.”
“Stay where you are, you… you.” I couldn’t find a word that was nasty enough. “What were you
His face shut down.
“We told you we were taking the threat seriously,” he said blankly.
“You fucking hypocrite. You were fucking me there, in the bathroom, and on the floor there in the living room, and in my bed.”
“I didn’t notice you resisting.”
I slapped him across the cheek. I wanted to hurt him, mutilate him, pulverize him.
“I can’t believe it,” I said. “I can’t believe I did that with you.” I looked at him, disgusted. “A married man who gets turned on by having sex with someone he’s supposed to be protecting.”
“We are protecting you.”
I shocked myself then by bursting into tears.
“Nadia.” His voice was soft, with a hint of triumph in it. “Darling Nadia, I’m sorry. I hated not telling you.”
I felt his hand on me and it made me jump.
“Fuck off,” I screamed through my tears. “I’m not fucking crying because of you. I’m scared, don’t you see? I’m so scared I feel like there’s a great hole in my chest.”
“Nadia.”
“Shut up.” I pulled a tissue out of my pocket and blew my nose. Then I looked at my watch. “Lynne’s back in an hour. I need you to answer some questions. I’m going to wash my face.”
“Wait,” he said. “I won’t touch you, I promise, but can I just say that what happened between us, it wasn’t, I mean it’s not, I wouldn’t want anyone…” He ground to a halt and looked at me with an expression that was both obsequious and resentful. He was scared of me now.
In the bathroom I washed my hands and face, and cleaned my teeth. There was a nasty taste in my mouth. I watched myself in the mirror. I didn’t look any different from usual. How was it possible that I looked the same? I smiled and my reflection smiled back happily.
The heat had gone out of my hatred. I felt cold and calm and ghastly. Cameron seemed dulled too. We sat across the table from each other, like indifferent strangers. It seemed impossible that a couple of days ago he was holding my head between his hands as if I were the most adored object in the world, feeling for me beneath my clothes. I shuddered at the memory.
“How did you find out?” he asked.
“North London’s a small place,” I said. “Especially rich north London. I met the nanny, Lena.” He didn’t reply but I saw a slight nod of recognition. “She told me about the notes. And you. Are you sure they’re from the same person?”
He didn’t meet my eyes.
“Yes,” he said.
“He wrote letters to her, like the one he wrote to me, and then he killed her.”
“Yes.”
“But weren’t you guarding her?”
“We had been. There were complicating factors.”
“But he still got into the house and murdered her.”
“We weren’t exactly guarding her at that point.”
“Why not? Didn’t you take it seriously?”
“Not at all,” he replied, stung. “We took it very seriously, after all-” He stopped abruptly.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“Nadia, you should understand that we are taking every precaution to protect you.”
“What? After all, what? Tell me.”
“We knew how serious the letters to Mrs. Hintlesham were,” he muttered, so quietly I had to strain to hear him.
“Why?” He caught my eye and then I realized. The new knowledge flooded over me so I could scarcely breathe. I stared at him. My voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “She wasn’t the first, was she?”
Cameron shook his head.
“Who else?”
“A young woman called Zoe Haratounian. She lived over in Holloway.”
