I had to fast forward the next part. It took Nicole maybe two minutes to wake up. Her head swayed, fell forward and raised itself again slowly a couple of times before she came round properly. Her right hand went up and felt the noose around her neck. She glanced round to see where the rope finished.
Do you know what? I actually found myself hoping she wouldn’t do it. That, at the last minute, she’d see sense, slip the noose from her neck and press her foot down hard on the pedal to get herself the hell away from those monsters.
She didn’t, of course. She sat still for several moments, then in a flurry of activity checked the mirror, released the handbrake, clutched the steering wheel and shot forward.
The camera followed her all the way, caught the severed head bouncing along the road like a lost football, and only switched off when approaching headlights warned that another vehicle was getting close.
‘And it looks as though she’d had quite a lot to drink,’ said Castell. ‘I was working last night. I usually try to keep an eye on her when I’m there, but … anyway, she broke her neck. It would have been instant. She wouldn’t have known anything.’
‘I didn’t know Meg had a drink problem,’ said Evi as Sniffy slinked over and leaned heavily against her.
Castell was nodding his head, slowly, sadly. ‘Well, they get very good at hiding it.’
‘Megan’s dead?’ said Evi, running a hand over Sniffy’s head and along her velvet-soft ears.
Castell narrowed his eyes and seemed to lean towards her. ‘Can I get you anything?’ he asked. ‘Would you like a drink? A glass of brandy?’
Evi shook her head. ‘I’m not supposed to drink alcohol.’
Castell’s face was all sympathy. ‘No,’ he said, ‘but you do though, don’t you? You drink quite a lot.’
‘Excuse me?’
Sniffy nudged Evi for more attention.
Castell stretched across the table, as though he were going to touch her. Evi drew her hand back. His eyes flicked down and back up again.
‘Evi, this isn’t easy for me to say, but Megan was concerned about you,’ he said. ‘Specifically, she was worried about you continuing to work in your current state of ill health. She’d written a letter to your GP, copied to the university authorities, setting out her concerns.’
Evi put an arm round Sniffy’s shoulders and pulled her a little closer. ‘Rubbish,’ she said. ‘Megan wouldn’t discuss me with you. That would be completely unethical.’
Castell shrugged. ‘The letter’s on her computer,’ he said. ‘I can print it off in a matter of moments.’
It took a second, for what he’d just said to sink in. ‘You can access Meg’s computer?’
Eyes narrowed. ‘What are you getting at?’
Castell had been at Cambridge fifteen years ago. Not studying medicine, but he’d known several people who had been. Castell had been dating Meg for months now, often stayed over at her house. If he could access Meg’s computer he could have seen all the files she kept on Evi. He would know everything about her. Everything that had happened to her, everything she was afraid of.
‘Can I give you some advice, Evi?’ Castell was saying.
‘Please do,’ said Evi, wondering if the fear was visible on her face.
‘Hand in your resignation today. Say you need some time to yourself for a few months. That way, the letter Meg wrote to the authorities can stay exactly where it is. No one need ever know.’
Don’t argue, let him think he’s won. She put her head in her hands, took a moment. ‘You’re probably right,’ she said after a few seconds. ‘Thank you.’
‘And I’d hate to have to charge you with wasting police time,’ said Castell. ‘What with the skeleton toys and the masked men in the garden and the blood in the bath and the disappearing emails. So many calls, nothing to substantiate any of them. Your credibility could be completely undermined. You’d struggle ever to work again.’
Agree to everything. She wasn’t on her own. Laura would know what to do.
‘You’re right,’ she said, forcing herself to look straight at him. ‘It’s been a very difficult few months. Thank you, John.’ She pushed her chair back and reached for her stick. She needed to signal this conversation was over. ‘And I’m truly sorry about Meg. I know how close you two were.’
Castell got up to leave.
‘Nice dog,’ he said, as he headed for the door.
I had to get out of here. Not only was watching these sick film clips threatening to send me over the edge, but there was a risk I could seriously compromise Joesbury’s investigation. I was conducting an illegal search. If it became known I’d done so, everything in this room might become inadmissible. And then Joesbury really would kill me.
I opened again the first clip of me and ran it to the point where I’d found it. Then I pressed Pause. I took one more minute to open up the list of files recently accessed and to delete the record of the ones I’d looked at. Someone who knew what they were doing would soon find evidence that I’d been on the computer, but with a bit of luck no one would have any reason to be suspicious.
One more second, though, to walk back to the TV table and pick up the DVD case labelled
I certainly didn’t have time to play it, nor did I need to. I knew exactly what I’d see. There would be footage of Nicole in her room at college, when she’d thought she was alone. I’d see her getting undressed, walking around in her underwear or nightclothes. I’d see her sleeping, someone going into her room, touching her, abusing her, when all the while she was powerless to stop it, even to remember it clearly the next day.
At some point, she would disappear from college and be brought here, where a scenario based on her worst nightmare would be played out. It would almost certainly involve some sort of sexual abuse, even rape, and it would all be captured on film.
The concluding scenes, of course, I’d just watched, albeit in their unedited state. Nicole, now a physical and mental wreck, was placed in a situation where taking her own life would be simple. The death was the conclusion the whole film was building towards. These people were making snuff movies.
‘When you find out what’s going on here,’ Joesbury had told me, ‘you’ll wish you hadn’t.’ He’d been right about that.
By this time, my heartbeat was racing and the headache was back with a vengeance. I had to find Joesbury and get Scott Thornton, Megan Prince and Nick Bell arrested. If they were innocent they could prove it once they were behind bars. Iestyn Thomas had to be found and Jim Notley could well be involved too. I’d get back to my car and text Joesbury again. If I got no reply, I’d call Dana Tulloch.
I’d got halfway to the door when I heard movement on the floor below me. A second later, someone turned on the big warehouse lights and I was trapped.
‘WE NEED YOU to wake up now, big fella. Can you hear me? Can you tell me your name?’
The light was hurting Joesbury’s eyes. He really didn’t want to open them.
‘You’re in hospital, love. The Lister in Stevenage. You were involved in a car accident. Do you remember anything about it?’
‘Rita, we’ve just heard that the car is owned by a haulage company in Dagenham. The registered keeper is a Michael Jackson.’
‘Really?’
‘That’s what they told me.’
‘Mr Jackson? Michael? Is that your name?’
‘Mick,’ managed Joesbury. ‘And when people start humming “Billie Jean” at me I usually thump ’em. Will I live?’
I went for the closest window. There was nowhere in this room I could hide and if the window didn’t open it was all over. I could hear more than one set of footsteps below and the occasional word being exchanged. They
