The safe house

‘Michael.’

‘What?’

‘Daley. Where?’ I forced myself. ‘Where is Michael Daley?’

Suddenly Geoff looked scared and shifty. I tightened my grip on his sleeve.

‘Is he here? Must tell me.’

‘They haven’t told you? You haven’t been conscious really.’

‘What?’

‘I think you should talk to a doctor.’

‘What?’

I was shouting now.

‘All right, Sam,’ Geoff hissed. ‘For God’s sake, don’t make a scene. I’ll tell you. Daley is dead. He was drowned. They only found his body yesterday. It was amazing that anybody could survive that. I don’t know how you got to the shore. And then it was hours before you were found. With the shock and the exposure, you’re lucky to be alive.’ He tried to remove his sleeve from my grasp. ‘Could you let me go now?’

‘Baird. Get me Baird.’

‘Who’s Baird?’

‘Detective. Stamford CID.’

‘I think I should get a doctor first. And your mother’s been here for days.’

I was almost at the limit of strength. Trying to shout, I could only manage a croaking whisper.

‘Baird. Now.’

I was woken by a murmured conversation. I opened my eyes. Rupert Baird was talking to a middle-aged man in a pinstriped suit. When he noticed I was awake, the man came and sat on the side of the bed. He gave me an almost mischievous smile.

‘Hello, I’m Frank Greenberg. I’d been looking forward to meeting you on your arrival. I didn’t quite expect it to happen like this though.’

I almost laughed and as I did so realized I was feeling stronger, more supple.

‘Sorry to be dramatic,’ I said.

‘Is this how you generally arrive at your new posts?’

‘I didn’t know I had arrived.’

‘Oh yes, in fact your PTSD unit will be just along the corridor. We can wheel you along there for a look in a day or two if you keep improving.’

‘I’m feeling better, I think.’

‘Good. You may be surprised to learn that you were in a very serious condition indeed when you were brought in.’

‘What symptoms?’

‘BP crashing. Obvious signs of peripheral vasoconstriction. It was a cocktail of exposure and shock symptoms. You were extremely fortunate. As you can see, you were on the verge of acute circulatory failure.’

‘How was I found?’

‘A man was walking on the shore with his dog and his mobile phone.’

Baird stepped forward.

‘Can I have a word?’ he asked.

Dr Greenberg turned to me.

‘All right?’

‘Yes.’

‘No more than five minutes.’

I nodded. Dr Greenberg held out his hand.

‘Good to meet you, Dr Laschen,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you again tomorrow morning.’

Baird approached and awkwardly looked for a perch. The moulded plastic chair was in the far corner. He considered whether to sit on the bed in the spot that Dr Greenberg had vacated.

‘Take a seat,’ I said and he sat uncomfortably on the very edge. He looked utterly miserable.

‘I’m glad you’re all right, Sam. This is a blighted case, isn’t it?’ He put his right hand on mine, awkwardly. ‘At some point there may be one or two routine questions but there’s no need now…’

‘It was Michael.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I was in the boat-house and on the floor I found one of those little paper animals Danny used to make.’

Baird gave a resigned sigh and tried to look sympathetic.

‘Yes, well, in itself, that doesn’t prove…’

‘Michael told me, Rupert. He tried to kill me on the boat. That’s how we went overboard. He and Finn killed Finn’s parents. And he killed Mrs Ferrer. And then Michael killed Finn. He killed Danny.’

Baird responded with a mock double take and his eyes wrinkled into a smile.

‘You don’t believe me.’

‘Of course I believe you, Sam. Now, a cynical copper might say that you have been through a terrible experience, you suffered from concussion and shock and you… er…’

‘Might have imagined it all?’

‘I’m an overly cautious man, Sam. I have to imagine what certain sticklers for evidence might say to me as they demoted me to walking the beat again. If you have anything concrete to offer us, Sam, we will be most interested in investigating it.’

I’d been sitting up, but now I sank back exhausted on to my pillow.

‘I don’t care what you do, Rupert. I know, and that’s enough for me. Why don’t you have a look at Michael’s boat-house? I think that’s where he kept Danny’s body. Where he made him write that suicide note. Shot him.’

Baird was silent for a long time. I couldn’t see his face.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘We’ll have a look. I think my five minutes must be up and there is one more senior figure who requires to see you straight away.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, if it’s Geoff Marsh or some other bloody manager, tell them to fuck off.’

Baird smiled.

‘I’m sorry, Sam. I’m afraid this is somebody who is too senior for me to give orders to.’

‘What is it? A royal visit or something?’

‘Close.’ Baird walked to the door and spoke to someone outside who I couldn’t see. ‘She can come in now.’

I looked, expectantly, and a familiar freckled face appeared about a yard below where I was expecting one.

Shoes clicked across the floor and Elsie jumped on to the bed and on top of me. I hugged her so close and tight that I could count the vertebrae in her spine. I was afraid of hurting her with the urgency of my grasp.

‘Oh, Elsie,’ I said. ‘You can be my nurse now.’

She wriggled free of me.

‘I am not your nurse,’ she replied firmly.

‘My doctor, then.’

‘I am not your doctor. Can we go out and play?’

‘Not just yet, my love.’

She looked at me with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

‘You’re not ill,’ she announced, almost in challenge.

‘No, I’m not. I’m a bit tired, but in a couple of days we can run around and play.’

‘I saw a camel.’

‘Where?’

‘And a big camel.’

In the doorway I saw my mother hovering with ostentatious discretion. I waved her over and we hugged like