Laura Farrow, the undercover police officer, was on her doorstep and Evi’s first thought was that she looked dreadful. There were dark circles beneath eyes that seemed to have shrunk in her face. Her mouth was paler and smaller. It was the first time Evi had seen her without make-up or so plainly dressed. Normally, Laura made an effort with her appearance. This morning, she’d just thrown on jogging clothes and trainers.
The second thing she noticed was that Laura hadn’t come alone. Wrapped around her right hand was what looked like the belt from a dressing gown. Attached to the other end of the belt was a dog collar. With a dog in it.
The dog’s white-tipped tail was waving like a flag and excitement shone out of its big brown eyes. Considering they hadn’t met before, it was looking remarkably pleased to see Evi.
‘We need to talk,’ Laura said.
‘You have a dog,’ replied Evi, not moving from her spot just inside the front door.
The detective glanced down, as though only just remembering the dog was there. It looked like a greyhound, sleek and slim, with a long, thin nose. Its black coat had white markings. It turned its head from Evi to look at Laura, ears perked. It almost seemed to be waiting for her to speak. Then it looked back at Evi. The movement of its white-tipped tail slowed.
‘Yes,’ Laura said. ‘Do you mind? I tried to leave him in the car. Twice. He starts howling every time I walk away. I think he’s house-trained.’
In the greater scheme of things … Evi stepped back and led Laura and her dog to the sitting room. Evi took the armchair she’d just vacated and nodded to Laura to take the other. The dog began to explore the room, sniffing under chairs, in corners, behind the TV.
‘If he cocks a leg I’ll be mortified,’ said Laura, watching its progress nervously.
‘You and me both,’ said Evi.
It didn’t. It completed its tour of the room and found the patch of sunlight at Evi’s feet. One ear up, the other down, sighing deeply, it settled down, lying like a sheepdog, with legs tucked beneath it, its attention shifting from one woman to the other, as though waiting for an instruction. Or for a ball to be thrown.
‘How come you have a dog?’ asked Evi.
‘Long story,’ said Laura. ‘I know we’re not supposed to meet today but things are worrying me. You don’t look too good, by the way, sorry to be blunt. Has something else happened?’
Evi held back from telling Laura she didn’t look great either. When she’d taken the lead off the dog, her hands had been shaking. And her pupils were unusually large and bright.
‘No, nothing new,’ Evi said. ‘I rely on painkillers most of the time. A skiing injury some years ago. Sometimes they take a while to kick in. So, what’s worrying you?’
Laura tapped the first finger of her left hand with the first on her right. She had a list. ‘First of all what you told me last night,’ she said. ‘About all the weird stuff that’s been happening to you. Seems to me there are two possibilities. The first is that you’re nuts.’
Evi didn’t like the small stab of something that felt a bit like guilt and a whole lot more like vindication that poked her in the stomach. ‘That term’s considered a bit old-fashioned in professional circles these days,’ she said, trying for a relaxed smile and knowing she just looked prim.
‘I think you have issues,’ said Laura, ‘which is probably not a technical term either. I think you’re edgy and jumpy and I think you’re verging on a serious depression, which could be a result of living with too much pain, but I don’t think you’re nuts.’
Not sure whether to be annoyed or amused, Evi looked the other woman full in the face. Laura held eye contact but her hands were still unsteady. And her breathing seemed accelerated, as though she’d run to get here. ‘Well, that’s good to know,’ said Evi. ‘So the other possibility?’
‘Is that you have a real and extremely sophisticated stalker,’ said Laura. ‘Someone with exceptional IT skills, for one thing. I did some research before I went to bed last night. That thing I talked about, loading up an email so that it disappeared completely when you activated it. It’s possible but it’s not easy. The chances are someone’s broken in here and used a USB stick to boot your machine and install the malware directly. They could have set any number of booby traps we have no way of knowing about without getting the machine checked out. For the time being, I’m afraid, you really can’t trust your computer.’
‘Who would do that?’ said Evi.
‘No idea. But it seems safe to say whoever it is has found out a great deal about you. Do you keep a diary or journal on the computer?’
‘Nothing like that,’ said Evi. ‘Yet that’s the really disturbing thing. It’s like they’ve been inside my head.’
‘Twisted people can be clever,’ said Laura. ‘And devious in ways we normal types don’t think of. That’s how they keep us guessing. But if you think about it, it’s obvious what’s happened.’
‘It is?’
‘That business in Lancashire last year was in lots of papers,’ said Laura. ‘It was even on the national news. I Googled you last night and found loads of stuff. The little girls and weird rituals and that patient of yours who died in a bath of blood. I reckon someone has found all this stuff exactly how I did and now they’re using it to mess with your head.’
Evi sat back in her chair to think about it. A hot stream of pain shot up her left leg but for once she hardly noticed it. What Laura was saying made sense. She should have thought of it herself. It would almost make her feel better to know there was an explanation. Except …
‘Why?’ she said. ‘Why would anyone do that?’
‘Well, it could be a revenge thing,’ said Laura. ‘From what I can gather you were instrumental in uncovering what was going on up there. It could be someone you pissed off getting their own back. But I don’t think so.’
‘What do you think?’
‘I think it’s connected to what’s going on here. Sorry to be rude, but do you mind if I make a cup of tea?’
‘Of course,’ said Evi. ‘Do you need me to …’
‘I’ll be fine,’ replied Laura, already on her way out of the room. ‘I can instinctively find my way round a kitchen. Which is interesting in its way, because I’m a lousy cook.’
Evi watched Laura stumble in the doorway, her hand shooting up to the doorframe for balance. Then she’d gone. The dog at Evi’s feet stood and looked towards the hall. Then it approached Evi and looked her directly in the eyes. The tip of its right ear was missing.
‘Hi,’ mouthed Evi. The dog stepped forward and laid its head on Evi’s lap, not for a second taking its round brown eyes from hers. As Evi reached out and ran her hand gently along its nose and over its brow, it gave a heavy and contented sigh. Its fur was smooth and warm, its ears like velvet.
Evi’s hand had returned to her lap. The dog raised its head and lifted one front paw. It nudged her, tapping lightly on the side of her leg. Evi began stroking and scratching its ears again, until Laura came back with two steaming mugs of tea. Her hands were still shaking.
Not wanting to risk scalding it with hot tea, Evi gave the dog a gentle shove away. It went back to the patch of sunshine and lay down, not once taking its eyes off her. Evi turned to Laura, who was clutching her mug as though it couldn’t cool down quickly enough.
‘Right, first of all, tell me what’s wrong with you,’ said Evi. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d taken something.’
Laura shook her head. ‘I had a bad night too,’ she said. ‘I might be coming down with a bug. Or I could have eaten something last night that didn’t really agree with me. Lord knows I’m more used to burgers and Chinese takeaways than game casserole.’
‘Do you need anything?’ said Evi. ‘Paracetamol?’
‘Had the maximum dose an hour ago, thanks,’ said Laura. She risked sipping from the mug and tears sprang into her eyes. ‘So, your stalker is really bothering me,’ she went on. ‘You’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest here. You’ve got the university authorities and the police twitchy about sinister goings-on and suddenly someone is trying to scare you and undermine your professional credibility at the same time. I think someone’s trying to warn you off.’
‘Warn me off what? Laura, what we have here, if anything, is some sort of dangerous but completely intangible culture of encouraging and feeding upon …’
‘No, I really don’t think so,’ said Laura, as the dog sighed heavily and rolled over on to its back.
‘You don’t?’
