He decided he would talk to the police detective, but only after he’d seen Alice again. They had no evidence against him and by volunteering to go talk to them, Cole would show he had nothing to hide. Then when he got his way with Alice, he could claim it was consensual and everyone would believe it. After all, Cole was a hero of South Ken, and he’d apologised to Alice on TV. And Alice wanted it. How could she not? Genius, he told himself. Fucking genius.
He leaned back on his settee with a satisfied grin and stared at the photo of Daz. It called to him, and he pushed himself to his feet. As he held the photo in his hand, he wished he could talk to Daz. Daz would know what to do. But Daz was dead. Dead. Cole’s grin faded to nothing, and he swallowed hard. The enormity of it hit him, and he leaned against the wall as his legs shook. His earlier confidence in his own genius shattered.
It took Cole several minutes to move. His world threatened to crumble around him, and he had neither the strength nor will to fight. Drugs would be his only hope, and he washed down another 2 Xanax to stem a rising feeling of hopelessness.
For over ten minutes, he stared out the window and tried to recapture the numb feeling he had harnessed in the park that morning, but it eluded him. As the Xanax took effect, he forgot about the police and turned on the TV. But he couldn't stop his mind racing. Too many things bothered him. Each time he tried to concentrate on the TV, visions of Scully intruded on his thinking.
To distract himself, Cole scrolled through his Twitter feed. He re-read the message from HardBoy97. How did this guy know Alice was in the hotel? Despite the Xanax high, he was suspicious. Yo mate. How did u know where she was? And why r u telling me?
Mate dat works at hotel told me. My other mate got done bad at #SouthKen I seen ur tweets thought u wud wanna know
Cole shrugged. K thanks
Give her summat from me, yeah? Give it to her nice and hard. She deserves it! #makeherpay
Cole typed a response. Dat bitch Alice is going down!!
LOL! Go get her mate. Smack dat bitch up good!!
Cole left the conversation at that, but it was good to know he wasn't alone, that others felt like he did. Xanax held his rage at Alice in check. He needed to be rational, and Cole soon decided he’d better spend the night away from the flat. A quick web search showed several cheap places close to the Metro in Ladbroke Grove and not far from her house in Portobello. He threw a change of clothes and toiletries into a bag. His normal phone lay on the table and he picked it up. He backed up everything from the phone onto the computer, and several complicated menu steps later, he completed a full factory reset on the phone, changed the unlock pin to 1234 and plugged it in to recharge. He left a scrap of paper with the pin number beside it. If Scully broke in, he wouldn't be able to resist it.
He imported the phone’s contact details from the computer to the burner, then he grabbed the key to the house in Portobello, his burner, the Captagon and the Xanax and put them in his pocket along with all the cash he had. As he was about to leave, he looked once more to the photo of Daz. He held it in his hands for a moment before he placed it into the bag. “You’re not leaving me again, bruv.”
As he closed his front door, he looked up to the camera and waved at it. The feeling he was waving goodbye was strong, and he wondered where it came from. He dismissed the thought as he hurried out of the building.
He crossed Weavers Fields in the late evening sunshine and around mid-way through the park, he looked about to make sure no-one was watching, then he threw the duplicate key to Alice’s house into the shrubbery.
On Wilmot Street, he recovered his holdall, unzipped it and checked the contents. Everything was still there, and the knife looked nice and sharp.
A little over an hour later, Cole lay on a bed in a cheap hotel and stared at the mould on the ceiling. He studied the patterns with a pharmaceutically induced fascination, and his concentration lasted until he heard his phone beep. He tapped on the screen and opened the live feed from the camera outside his flat. Someone was at his door. Cole squinted at the phone as he watched a shadowy figure fiddle with the lock. It took the shaven headed bastard five minutes to break in. Cole nodded. At least he knew where Scully was.
112
Alice placed the wine glass down by the bedside table. “Don’t think I want to finish this. The idea was nice, now I’m not so sure.”
“Then leave it,” Ian said.
She put on a gown over her underwear and climbed onto the bed. Ian looked over, “Won't you be too hot in that?”
“I don't care.” She scratched at her arm and looked at the corner of the bed frame. “This is the first night since...”
“You want to sleep in the other room?”
She shook her head. “No. I must do this. I can’t let them win.” She pushed over the duvet and got under the sheet.
“I’ll keep you safe.”
“Promise?”
He laughed. “Of course.” He turned off the light and got into the bed. Minutes later, she heard his breathing change, become heavier, and she envied the ease at which he drifted to sleep.
She lay on her back, stared into
