‘So what now?’ said Phil. ‘He’s not on the boat he’s been living on. D’you know where he would be?’
Paula shook her head.
‘Don’t protect him, Paula. Not now. If you know, tell me.’
She looked up. Fire in her eyes. And tears. ‘I’m not protectin’ him. D’you think I really would? After all he’s done? All he’s taken away from me? You think so? His mind’s gone, Mr Brennan. All he’s got left is hate. If I knew where he was I’d tell you. I’d lead you to the bastard myself…’
She trailed off, tears overtaking words.
From upstairs came the sound of a baby crying.
‘Our Adele’s,’ said Paula.
The baby kept crying. Paula didn’t move. There was nothing more Phil could say, no more questions to ask. He stood up.
‘I’ll have to bring you in.’
She nodded. The baby kept crying.
‘But not tonight. We’ll do it later.’
Paula didn’t nod this time. Phil walked to the door. Turned back and looked at her. Sitting alone in the wrecked room. The baby still crying upstairs. He wanted to say something, give her some encouraging words, tell her something that would make it better, help her find a way out of her pain, make the loss more bearable.
But there was nothing. Nothing at all.
He left her there.
Closed the door behind him. Stepped out into the darkness.
92
Mickey didn’t have to wait long for something to happen. There was a knock on the door. He got up to answer it, went into the corridor, shutting the door behind him. Hoped it was something or someone to help him.
Anni.
‘Here.’ She handed him a sheet of paper. ‘Preliminary DNA results from Adele Harrison’s body. Like Nick said, there’s something funny about one set.’
‘What?’
‘There.’ She pointed to the relevant section.
Mickey read it. Smiled. ‘Thanks, Anni. This might be it.’
She returned the smile. ‘Good luck.’
Marina appeared. ‘Good work, Mickey.’
His smile faded. ‘You think so? I’ve lost him.’
‘You’ll get him back. I think he’s the follower. Fiona Welch is the leader. If he’d never met her, come under her influence, he wouldn’t be here. I don’t think he’s all that bad. Not really. Play on that. Use it. Appeal to his good side. Be his mate.’
‘Be blokey?’
‘Worth a try.’
He waved the sheet of paper. ‘And if that fails, there’s always this to fall back on.’
‘Absolutely.’
He went back inside. Sat down again.
‘Sorry about that.’ He smiled at Turner. ‘Where were we? Oh yes. You were telling me how superior you were.’
Turner smirked, said nothing. Accepting the words as if they were due praise.
Mickey scrutinised Turner. ‘You used to go out with Suzanne Perry, didn’t you?’
‘You know I did.’
‘Nice girl. Why’d you ditch her?’
‘Found someone better.’
‘Really?’ Mickey shook his head. ‘You mean Fiona Welch? Listen, mate, you backed a wrong ’un there.’
Turner just stared at him.
‘I mean, there’s Suzanne. Good-looking, intelligent, good company… And Julie Miller. You were with her before Suzanne, yeah? Same. Real looker. And then you go from them to Fiona Welch.’
‘So?’
‘So it’s like trading in a Rolls-Royce for a Mondeo. She must be a good shag, mate, because there’s nothing else going for her.’
Turner’s face reddened, his eyes narrowed. He struggled not to rise from his chair. ‘And what would you know? Eh? Mr Thick Policeman?
Mickey said nothing.
‘I’ll go and look it up.’ Marina’s voice in Mickey’s ear. He shook his head. Hoped she caught it.
Turner was still talking. ‘That’s your interpretation. Because you think you’ve got power. But it’s not. It’s nothing like that.’
‘Then tell me what it is like.’
Another humourless laugh. ‘You wouldn’t understand. You’re not intelligent enough to understand.’
‘Then make me. Because I’m all that stands between you and a life sentence for four murders. Make me.’
Turner sat back. ‘All right then.’ Closed his eyes. ‘What Fiona and I have is so, so much more than anything I have ever felt in my life. Suzanne, Julie, even Adele were nothing. Boring little nobodies. But Fiona has shown me things, made me realise what I am, what I’m capable of…’ He sighed, a happy, cruel smile on his face. ‘I’ve never felt so alive. All because of her.’ He opened his eyes. Fixed Mickey with a direct gaze. ‘I pity you. Really pity you.’
‘Why, Mark?’
‘Because you’ll never feel what I’ve felt. Experience what I’ve experienced. Your life will always be boring. And you will always be stupid. “Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world.” And that’s you. Bet you don’t know who said that, either.’
‘Would it matter if I did?’
Turner laughed, shook his head. ‘Course not.’
Mickey sighed, sat back, folded his arms. Fixed Turner with a direct look. ‘Mark, I’ll be honest with you. No bullshit now. You can sit here and come out with all these quotes and all these insults and it doesn’t make a blind bit of difference. No any more. Not to you. Because, like I said, you’re looking at a life sentence for four murders. At least. That we know of. And it looks like your girlfriend’s dumped you. Left you to take all the blame.’
Turner flinched at that.
‘Good one,’ said Marina.
Mickey leaned forward once more. The last few minutes forgotten, mates again. ‘So why don’t you tell me, Mark? Eh? Tell me everything. You’re not going anywhere.’
Turner stared at him, mouth moving, chewing the inside of his lip.
Nerves, thought, Mickey. Good. Getting there.
‘Tell me the whole thing, Mark.’
Turner sighed.
‘All right.’
Mickey managed to hide his smile.
93
