Poor Rory doesn’t like him. He doesn’t like anyone really. He puts up with me and Bernie but anyone else makes him nervous. I know what my visitor’s game is. He gets off on seeing Rory in such a state. That’s why he insists on sitting near Rory, touching his drawings. Rory doesn’t like his things being touched.
My fists clench and I know I can’t withstand the urge for much longer, so I make sure my nails dig right into my palms, that’ll help – a little. Not for the first time do I curse my drunken maudlin ramblings. Why did I tell them about Rory and Coco? Why did I tell them about his exhibition and the sketches of his mum? He kept asking questions and I was too drunk to realise how obsessed he’d become … how unnatural his queries were. I described those beautiful drawings to him, not realising that he did not see the poignant beauty of them, the reverent way Rory drew them, the exorcism of Rory’s childhood trauma but rather he enjoyed the macabre death scene, in the same way he enjoyed poking his brother’s hamster to death.
Before I can stop myself, my fists are out slamming into my head, battering this fucking useless skull of mine. Thump, thump, thump!
I know who took the sketches. I should tell someone, I know I should, but I can’t – no one would believe me. Nobody trusts me and I don’t deserve to be trusted.
Thump, thump, thump. I can’t work out what he wants with them. Why would he take them? The only thing I really know is that whatever he does, it will be bad. He kept talking about an end game.
Thump, thump, thump.
Why can’t I work it out? What’s his endgame? What is he going to do? It’s bad though. It’ll be bad and I don’t want him to hurt her. She escaped. She got away from all the badness and she deserves to be happy. I don’t want him to hurt her. This has always been my problem – who to protect? – and now I can’t protect anybody.
Thump, thump, thump.
I need to sleep. I need to rest so I can think. So, I can work out what I can do to save her, so I do what I need to do.
Thump, thump, thump.
I hear Bernie shouting, now they’re running towards me – two of them. It’s all my fault. I’m to blame for everything that’s happened. Bernie yells something, but I can’t hear what he says. I look at my fists and they’re all smeared with blood. My knuckles ache and my head throbs, so when they sedate me, I welcome the drift into oblivion, for it’s the only peace I get these days.
Chapter 22
Bradford
Nancy had made the correct decision for the investigation and Gus was well aware of that fact. He also had complete faith in Alice’s ability to lead the team. None of that stopped him being frustrated and angry. He’d been sidelined in an investigation that had personal significance for his family, and he hated that he was excluded. If his mum was under threat, then he really needed to be a part of it, but if he wanted to gain any concessions from Alice he’d have to tread carefully. The fact that Nancy had consistently stressed the word ‘officially’ told Gus that she was not going to send him to purgatory for the duration of the case, but the implication was clear that he would have to stick to the outskirts of the case.
Entering the incident room, Gus was aware of an immediate increase in the buzz of activity from his team. While Compo dived behind his wall of electronic equipment, Taffy tried, less successfully to shrink himself behind a PC screen. Alice observed him from her desk, her expression wary. The only person in the room who seemed unaware of any sort of tension was Sebastian Carlton.
‘Ah, there you are, Gus. Just spent an enjoyable morning with your delightful mum. Such a pleasure.’
Adjusting to the other man’s intense scrutiny and the smile that almost outglared his clothing today, Gus just nodded. But Carlton wasn’t done. ‘Hear you’ve been replaced as SIO by the delightful DS Cooper. Good move I’d say, now we can really get this investigation started.’
Gus glowered at the man, what the hell did he mean? Was he insinuating that Gus had been tardy in executing actions for the investigation? Seemingly unaware that he’d just insulted Gus, Carlton continued. ‘Yes – now you and I can head all over the place doing unofficial things and ferreting out info we can feed back to the official team. Much more efficient to have someone not constrained by official protocol by my side. Much more efficient.’
Alice cleared her throat. ‘I am here, Prof. You can’t be going on about unofficial stuff when I’m here.’
Turning to Alice, Carlton clapped his hands. ‘Oh, so sorry, Alice. I just got overexcited for a moment. Of course any unofficial business Gus and I get up to will be kept from your ears.’ He pressed his index finger and thumb together and in an affected twisting movement, he drew them across his mouth. ‘Lips sealed.’
Stunned by the byplay, Gus wasn’t quite sure how to respond, but as images of him and Sebastian Carlton as a male modern day version of Thelma and Louise flooded into his mind, he shuddered. ‘For Goodness sake, Carlton. I’ve not been sacked. I’m still a police officer, still an investigator – just not on this case. Doesn’t mean I don’t
