‘Not all of them. Only the special ones.’
‘What d’you want to know? Who else I’ve slept with? Did I use protection? Have I had a check-up recently? Bit late for all that now.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘too late.’
She looked at the machine next to her. ‘You going to record this? Because the first thing I’m going to say is that you slept with me. That anything I say consequently will be considered tainted testimony. That nothing will stand up in court.’
She sat back, pleased with herself.
Mickey smiled. ‘Absolutely. I wasn’t going to do this interview under caution, but if you’d prefer it that way, then fair enough.’
‘I would.’
Mickey readied the recorder.
‘You’re doing great, Mickey,’ said Marina in his ear. ‘Keep her like that. Keep her angry. She thinks she’s superior to you. Cleverer than you. She thinks she’s going to beat this. She’s so arrogant she hasn’t asked for a solicitor. Thinks because she is one she knows it all. Even criminal law. Keep her that way.’
Mickey gave a small nod, hoped Marina caught it.
‘Interview commencing at… ’ He started talking for the benefit of the recorder. He gave his name, Lynn Windsor’s name, cautioned her, stated the time. Got her to say she had turned down the offer of a solicitor. Then he was ready to start.
Her lips were curled at the edges. Ready for battle, thought Mickey. Ready to defeat him. He swallowed. Hoped that wouldn’t be the case.
‘Lynn, I-’
‘Can I just stop you there, Detective Sergeant,’ she said. She smiled. ‘I realise I’m under caution and this is a formal interview. I should also like to state, for the recording, that last night you came round to my flat and had sex with me.’
She sat back, knowing what the repercussions of her statement would be, waiting for his response. She smiled. Mickey took his time.
‘Yes I did,’ he said eventually. ‘I should say it was at your invitation. And that the sex was entirely consensual. And, I should add, highly enjoyable.’
She sat forward. That wasn’t what she had expected him to say. Her eyes darted around the room.
‘In fact,’ continued Mickey, ‘it was last night I wanted to talk to you about. You see, when I accepted your invitation to come over, I didn’t consider you to be involved in the investigation I’m currently working on. However, as a result of spending the night with you, I’m not convinced of that at all.’
He reached into his pocket, brought out her business card. He had put it in a plastic bag. Thought it looked more official that way. He placed it on the table between them.
‘Do you recognise this?’
She looked at it, looked back at him.
‘Do you?’
She nodded.
‘Can you speak up, please? For the benefit of the recording.’
‘Yes,’ she said croakily, her mouth suddenly dry.
‘And what is it?’
She cleared her throat. ‘My business card.’
‘Right. Your business card. And could you look at that card for me, please?’
She bent over, looked at it.
‘Could you confirm that’s your mobile number on it?’
‘Yes.’ Fear began to dance in her eyes.
Mickey suppressed a smile, fed off it, became more confident. He was circling, closing in on her. But he didn’t want to get cocky, didn’t want to lose the interview and her too. So he kept it controlled.
‘Now, this is my mobile phone.’ He took his phone out, placed it on the table. ‘Could you tell me why your number appears in the address book?’
She shrugged. ‘You must have put it there. Intending to see me again. It’s not going to happen now.’
‘All right, I’ll rephrase the question. Can you tell me why your number is in my phone next to the name of one of my informants? And why the text message he sent me yesterday never got through? And why I received a different one instead with entirely different information in it? Can you explain any of that?’
Lynn Windsor said nothing. Just stared at him. Hatred burning in her eyes.
His mind flashed back to the way she had been the night before. It was hard to believe it was the same woman. He put the image out of his mind, concentrated.
‘So you don’t know how my informant’s text was intercepted and changed.’
‘No.’
‘And your number substituted for his.’
‘No.’
‘Sure?’
She sighed. Aiming for irritated, unable to suppress the fear beneath it. ‘This is ridiculous.’ She was trying to inject strength into her voice, but it was too shaky. ‘This is pathological. You’re just… just… taking out your own guilt for sleeping with me on… on… like this.’
Mickey gave a pantomime frown. ‘I don’t feel guilty about what we did. Do you?’
Her eyes darted about the room once more, like sparrows trapped in a barn.
‘If you’re… if you’re quite finished, I’ll… I’ll go… ’
Her hands on the table, trying to stand. Wanting to walk out. Wanting it all to end.
‘Sit down, please, Lynn.’ Mickey’s voice strong, authoritative.
She sat down.
He heard Marina’s voice in his ear.
‘Right, Mickey, you’ve got her. Now. Trust me on this. Ask her about the Gardener.’
Mickey frowned.
‘The Gardener. Just ask her where the Gardener is. And how you can find him. Trust me. Do it.’
Mickey leaned forward across the table. Hands together, voice low, as if in conspiracy.
‘Lynn… ’
She looked up at him. Up close, he saw the depth of fear in her eyes. He was glad he wasn’t scared of whatever it was that was scaring her.
Or whoever.
‘Lynn… where can I find the Gardener?’
And the fear he had just seen in her eyes was nothing compared to the fear that was there now.
103
The Gardener straightened up. Looked round. Smiled.
The sacrifice chamber had been filled with flowers. Bunches had been made up, colours and scents carefully combined, positioned at the correct stations round the room. The rest had been strewn over the floor. The smell was becoming overpowering in the confined space. Decay had already started.
Good. That was just how the Gardener wanted it. Needed it.
For the sacrifice.
The candles were in place too. But he had resisted the temptation to start burning them early. The room was cold and dark. He had put on another layer. Navigated by torchlight.
He looked over to the cage. The boy was silent. Curled up in a corner, still wearing the thin back-tied gown
