Again, Cole leaned close to Daz’s ear and spoke in a low voice. “Gonna scare her real good. And if the old bill let her go, I’m gonna pay her a visit. What do you think, eh? Tell you what, Daz? You say no, and I won't do it.”
Cole leaned back and looked for any sign Daz might have understood. Nothing. He glanced at the machines and their displays, but the numbers meant nothing to him. Then Cole’s eyes widened. He stared at Daz. “Hey,” he called out loud. “Nurse. He moved. I think he’s waking up.”
The nurse hurried towards to the bed. She checked the equipment. After she pulled on Daz’s eyelid and shone a light into his eye, she shook her head.
“What?” Cole said. “He moved. I think he tried to say something.”
“They twitch sometimes, love. Sorry. It’s normal.”
“But he’s gonna get better, right? He understood me. I know he did.”
The nurse patted him on the arm. “Maybe he did.”
Cole blinked several times. He took a deep breath and tried to relax his shoulders. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Or the next day. Will you phone me if there’s any news?”
“Of course,” the nurse said. “But remember, no news is good news.”
As he walked down the corridor from the ICU, Cole kept his head low and fought back tears. He paused in a quiet corner of the stairwell for several minutes. He took a deep breath, narrowed his eyes and raised his head. Then he strode from the hospital wearing a look of fierce determination.
29
Alice sat in her cell, pushing inedible food around her plate. Rix had told her to be patient and that he would continue to work on her behalf. He had reason to suspect Marks wanted to save face, and that after a time, they would release her.
She grew tired of staring at the walls, shoved the plate aside and trudged around the small cell. Time passed. The cell grew hotter and she pulled at her tee shirt where it clung to her skin. Then the door swung open and Alice stepped back into the far corner. The Scottish officer strode into the room, alone.
Alice glanced at the officer’s hands. “What? No handcuffs?”
“Come with me,” she growled. Her surly look never wavered, as if someone had etched it on her face or she’d forgotten how to smile.
The officer steered Alice along the corridor to an interview room, where she left Alice alone with Rix. Rix got to his feet as she entered. He cut straight to the point. “The good news is they’ve agreed to let you go. No bail. No conditions. It’s over. Ian’s waiting outside to take you home.”
Alice sighed. “They stole a piece of my life. Any chance of getting it back?”
“Let’s concentrate on getting them to return the items they took from your house.”
“I feel scrutinised. Invaded.”
Rix cocked his head to one side and shrugged. “In case you haven’t noticed, the police have a very suspicious outlook. In fact, you could say they have a singular talent for it.”
“I noticed.”
Rix shifted a little and grimaced. “Um…”
“What?” Alice asked. “There’s something else isn’t there?”
He nodded. “The media ran with it. News channels broadcast footage from outside your house. While television haven’t mentioned you by name, you’re all over Twitter.” He glanced down at his phone. “The #champagneterrorist hashtag is still trending. As is @TVGirlAlice. Much of it is unpleasant and untrue. Never mind the fact the threats are technically illegal.”
“Technically?”
“It’s difficult to get the police to intervene. They would need a clear and direct threat to your personal safety.”
“Great. Just great...” She reached out for his phone. “May I see?”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” She scrolled through the tweets and shook her head. “A rape threat isn't a direct threat to my personal safety? Sounds like a man’s interpretation.”
“I can assure you, that is not my interpretation. However, we have a choice. We either fight back or we ignore it.”
She stopped scrolling and passed the phone back to Rix. “What do you think?”
“I would suggest you ignore social media. I will get someone in the office to tweet supportive stuff and counter it with subtle legal pressure, but that could backfire, so we will exercise caution. That said, I think we should raise a formal complaint with the Met, not these guys.” He waved a hand around in the air. “I doubt they will do much, but you never know. If things haven’t subsided in a few days, then we will review the situation. In the meantime, don’t feed the trolls. Some of these guys are spoiling for the agro. They feel safe behind the anonymous usernames. It gives them a platform to voice opinions and behave in a fashion they never would in real life.”
“Røvhuller, the lot of them. They think I’m guilty...” Alice’s shoulders slumped. “No, it’s worse. They want me to be guilty. They need a scapegoat. You know, years ago, they’d have called me a witch and burned me at the stake.”
“Luckily times have changed.”
“You think?” Alice scoffed. “It’s the same
