Текст книги "Evil Games"

Автор книги: Angela Marsons

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

TWENTY-SIX

The doorbell sounded and Kim didn’t have to ask who was at the door as she undid the chain.

‘The Missus made too much lasagne.’ He shrugged. ‘She insisted.’

Kim smiled. ‘The Missus’ sent round a home-cooked meal every other week and was as charitable in nature as her husband.

Kim remembered some months earlier when Bryant had rescued a Staffordshire bull terrier and her pups from a flat on the notorious Hollytree estate. The puppies had been saved from a life of dog fighting and the mother from constant litters until her ultimate fate as bait in the dog ring.

The Bryant family had reared the pups and found them homes with family and friends, keeping the mother for themselves.

‘So, what do you really want?’ she asked, reaching for a second mug.

‘Well, I’ve been thinking …’

She smacked her brow. ‘Bryant, I’ve told you about dangerous activity.’

He narrowed his gaze. ‘Kim, did you just make a funny?’

She shrugged.

‘I think you need to let the Ruth Willis case go. You seem obsessed with Doctor Thorne and it’s not going to do you any good.’

‘Oh really, well guess who I bumped into today?’ Kim was careful not to say where. For some reason the conversation she’d had earlier with the doctor had replayed itself in her head over and over but she was unsure why.

‘Surprise me.’

‘Doctor Thorne. She asked how Ruth was.’

Bryant shrugged. ‘As you would expect, I suppose.’

‘Hmmm …’

‘What?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What don’t you know?’

‘She had quite a lot to say.’

‘About Ruth?’

‘Not really, more about herself.’

‘What sort of things?’

‘That her family died, she doesn’t sleep much, she has few friends …’

‘Are you two best mates now?’

‘There’s just something … strange.’

Bryant sniggered. ‘Rich, coming from you.’

‘Okay, forget it.’

‘I’m sorry, go on, strange how?’

Kim was trying to work that one out herself. Maybe if she used Bryant as a sounding board it would make sense to her and then she could forget it.

‘The things she said, the way she said them. Statements about herself that seemed like she was trying to get something from me. Do you know what I mean?’

‘No.’

‘Why would she tell me so much about herself?’

‘Perhaps you caught her at a weak moment and she felt drawn to you.’

Kim could concede that was possible. The conversation had taken place in the cemetery.

‘Yeah, but I got the impression that the chat was for my benefit rather than hers.’

‘Did she ask you any questions, pry into your life?’

‘Not directly, but …’

‘Is it possible that she was feeling vulnerable or that she was simply trying to engage you in a conversation?’

‘I suppose, but …’

‘Look, Kim, people meet and chat. They talk about themselves and then you talk about yourself. It’s called making an acquaintance. Truthfully, dogs have it easier. They simply sniff each other’s …’

‘Enough.’ Okay, she knew she wasn’t good at making friends but she just knew when something didn’t feel right.

‘I’m serious. You might not know this but it’s normally how people get to know each other. They converse. In some rare cases I’ve heard it said that they can eventually become friends.’

Kim dismissed this. ‘There’s something else.’

‘Of course there is.’

‘There’s something about her that’s not quite … real.’

‘How so?’

Kim searched her memory for an example. ‘Did you ever see that program, Faking It?’

‘Where people were given a crash course in something like brain surgery and had to try and fool experts at the end of the show?’

Kim nodded. ‘It’s like that. It’s as though Alex is acting through the emotions. They’re registering on her face but nowhere else. She takes them out one at a time and the pause in between is just blank. It’s weird.’

‘Kim, I say this with respect as you are my boss and I’m the closest thing to a friend you’ve got …’ Bryant paused, seeking permission to continue.

Her lack of response was her answer.

‘ … but I’m not too sure that you’re the best judge of anyone’s demonstration of emotional response.’

Kim wasn’t hurt by his words. Truth didn’t upset her and she had to concede he had a point.

‘Why is the conversation still bothering you?’

Kim thought for a moment. ‘I honestly don’t know.’

‘Just let it go. You’re never going to see her again so it has no impact on your life.’

Bryant’s reassurances hadn’t worked. A niggle remained that she hadn’t yet seen the last of Alexandra Thorne.

TWENTY-SEVEN

It was almost nine when Alex closed the front door behind her. The house was in total darkness.

She headed through the hallway into the kitchen. After leaving the cemetery she had nipped to Marks & Spencer and picked up a ’96 Chateau Lascombes. She’d earned it.

Alex placed the bottle onto the marble worktop and paused. Something was not quite right. Immediately, she was hit by the smell. She looked around. An unpleasant odour filled the room. She took another sniff but couldn’t identify any particular element. It was foul and it was all around her.

‘Goodness, what died in here?’ she muttered to herself, as she opened the six foot door to the combined fridge freezer.

The bottom tray held a half bag of mixed salad that she’d opened earlier in the day. There was no milk as she rarely used it and everything else was in sealed containers.

She swung the heavy door closed. Her heart jumped into her mouth as her eyes met with those of the figure stood right in front of her.

Stunned, she stepped backwards.

‘Shane … wh– what the …’

Shane grabbed her upper arm to prevent her moving away from him. ‘Hello, Doctor. Have you missed me?’

Alex tried to slow her erratic breathing and get her bearings. Shane was here, in her house. How the fuck had that happened? Shane no longer even entered her thoughts.

His grip on her arm was firm, his eyes calm and controlled.

He towered above her by a good ten inches. He moved closer and the stench filled her nostrils. Nausea rolled around her stomach. It was a mixture of body odour, damp and stale food.

She gagged but kept her lunch the right side of her throat.

She tried to pull free of his hand but it was strong and determined. ‘Shane, what the hell are you doing here?’

Alex wondered if the tremor in her voice was as clear to Shane as it was to her. She didn’t know him well enough to gauge the full extent of his capabilities. But she had manipulated him once, could she do it again?

‘I’ve come to punish you, Alex.’

Alex swallowed. His expression was cold. He didn’t look like the vulnerable little boy anymore. He looked like a man. A real one.

She said nothing. She had no clue what was running through his head. She needed to think of a strategy. If she could just reach her mobile phone …

As the thought occurred to her, Shane reached behind for her handbag with his free hand. He upturned it so the contents spilled onto the dining table, then took her phone and placed it in his pocket.

Shane used his grip to push her back against the kitchen counter. He loosed her arm and placed each hand to the side of her, trapping her in that position.

She considered her options. She could try and raise her knee and thrust it between his legs in the hope he would fall to the ground. That would give her enough time to get to the door, unlock the bolts and chain and get out. Fantastic if it worked but not if she couldn’t get enough force behind the action. She’d seen what he’d done to Malcolm and he’d killed his abusive uncle with his own bare hands.

She decided on a different approach.

She swallowed her fear and smiled at him flirtatiously. ‘I have missed you, Shane.’

His head moved slowly back, his mouth forming a look of mild distaste.

Bad idea. She backtracked quickly and tried to look earnest. ‘I really have.’

Shane shook his head. ‘You’re a liar and a bitch. Before I met you I had a chance at a life. David gave me a roof over my head and those guys understood me. They were friends. And now I’ve lost them. I’ve lost everything because of you.’

She tried to keep her breathing even. She opened her mouth.

‘Don’t speak,’ he instructed. ‘Everything that comes out of your mouth is fucking bullshit. You made me believe I could be normal. You convinced me that I could feel clean and whole and you knew all along that I couldn’t.’

Lines too deep for a twenty-three-year-old furrowed his brow. ‘And you used me to hurt Malcolm. I don’t know why you did that but I hurt him real bad because of you. I think you damage people, Alex, and then walk away untouched, but not this time.’

Alex’s heart missed a beat. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was going to do to her. In a physical fight he held all the cards, but the psychological playing field was a different battle altogether.

‘I really trusted you, you know. I thought you were my friend and now I’ve lost everything because of you.’

She tried not to flinch as his right hand reached up and touched her cheek. ‘So, clean, so beautiful, so perfect.’

Shane’s coarse skin against her own almost choked her but she kept her expression benign. There was a wistfulness in his face that she recognised from many of her patients. There was still something he wanted, craved.

She needed to reach out to the little boy. Her safety depended on it.

She took a gamble and lightly touched his left hand. His jaw tensed but he didn’t remove his hand.

And, finally she had her strategy. She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘I’m so glad you found me, Shane.’

His eyes bored into hers.

She ploughed on, forcing the fear from her voice. ‘I’ve been looking so hard for you. I went back to the house early the next morning to see if you were okay and David told me you’d gone. I wanted to say sorry for being mean to you. I was just angry at what you’d done to Malcolm.’ She shook her head. ‘I thought we had a connection. I thought I could help you.’

The brief shadow of indecision slowed her rapidly beating heart and she pushed on. ‘All those hours we spent together I thought we’d been making progress. I thought you believed in me, but when I saw the state of Malcolm it was as though our time together had meant nothing.’

He shook his head slowly but his right hand fell to the side, away from her face.

‘Come on, Shane. You felt it too. We had a friendship. I shouldn’t have said what I said.’ She looked down and shook her head. ‘It was cruel and it wasn’t even true.’

‘What wasn’t true?’

‘That I couldn’t help you.’

Total confusion now contorted his face. ‘But you said …’

‘I know what I said, Shane. But I was wrong to say that. It was only because I was angry at you. Of course I can help you. That’s why I walked the streets the following night looking for you.’

‘But …’

The balance had tipped. She moved out of his space and then turned, holding out her hand. She was back in control and this would end her way.

‘Come with me and I’ll start helping you now.’

He stayed where he was.

The danger had passed. Enough confusion had been caused to distract his rage. The little boy had resurfaced.

Alex coaxed him forward and led him to the consultation room.

‘I’ll put on the desk lamp, it’s more comforting.’

She reached to the side of her desk and switched it on. Another button sat to the right of it. She pushed it twice.

The room was bathed in a low, intimate glow. She led Shane to the patient’s chair. He sat.

A few minutes; that’s all it would take. Help was less than a mile away. She needed closure to this particular subject and the plan was now crystal in her mind.

She removed her jacket and placed it on the table between them. ‘Do you want me to start helping you, Shane?’ she asked, gently.

He said nothing but simply stared at her.

‘If you let me, I can make it all go away. We can start now and then in a little while I’ll call David and you can go back to Hardwick House. Is that what you want?’

He looked doubtful. ‘Can I?’

She nodded emphatically. ‘Of course you can. You chose to leave. Your room is still there for you.’

He looked at her disbelievingly. ‘You’d do that?’

She smiled reassuringly. ‘Shane, I would do anything to help you. You are my friend.’

His face collapsed and his head dropped into his hands. ‘Oh, God, Alex. I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. I thought I hated you. I thought you hated me. I thought I was so dirty that you couldn’t even stand to be near me.’

‘Don’t be so silly,’ she said, as though he was five years old. ‘Now close your eyes and focus only on my voice.’

He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes.

She rolled up the right sleeve of her blouse. Without taking her eyes from his firmly closed lids, she began pinching the skin on her forearm with her left hand.

‘First of all, just relax and clear your mind. I’m going to help take some of the pain away.’

His face relaxed and his jaws slackened. Alex smiled as she rolled up the sleeve on her left arm. She continued talking to Shane in a calm, soothing voice as she dug a fingernail into the skin as hard as she could. She traced a line to her wrist. It was a diagonal line with the skin broken in places. Already it looked worse than it actually was.

‘You have to let your hatred go, Shane. I can help you put the past behind you. I can help to make you feel clean again.’

And she could if she chose to, but as she looked at her watch, she saw that she really didn’t have the time.

‘What are you doing to your arms, Alex?’

Damn, she’d taken her eyes off him for one second to glance at her watch.

He looked from her face to her reddened, scratched arms. Realisation began to dawn in his eyes.

A knock sounded at the door. Alex had been prepared for that. The personal attack alarm beside her desk had been pressed once before and it had worked perfectly. Shane jumped to his feet and headed towards the door that led into the hallway.

‘It’s okay, Shane. Just ignore it, they’ll go away.’

She knew full well that they wouldn’t.

Shane looked panicked. His gaze glued to her right arm.

Alex stood and positioned herself away from the door. ‘It’s okay, they’ll …’

The sound of her front door crashing in cut off her words.

Shane looked towards her, stunned and frightened. She ripped at her blouse, revealing her breasts. She shook her head to mess up her hair and pinched a red mark onto her cheek.

Two male police officers entered the room swiftly and took in the scene.

‘He … he … tried to rape me,’ she cried before her legs gave way. She fell against the wall. The taller officer reached out to steady her.

Shane’s gaze was darting between all three of them, no clue what had occurred. He really was pathetic. So easily fooled into believing she had any interest in helping him. He would never possess the skills to beat her.

‘I didn’t … I swear … I didn’t …’

The tall officer was inspecting the damage to her arms. ‘Cuff him,’ he said, guiding her to a seat. Shane’s eyes were fixed on her, his expression a picture of confusion.

Alex offered him a triumphant smile.

The realisation that he was headed straight back to prison registered on his face. He bucked against the handcuffs.

‘No, please, I can’t … you don’t understand … please … I can’t go back …’

Any type of violence from Shane after the crime he’d committed would unquestionably revoke his parole and she needed to know that this particular subject would never bother her again.

‘Tell them, Alex,’ he cried as the tears coursed over his cheeks. ‘Tell them I didn’t hurt you. Please, tell them I can’t go back.’

Alex rubbed at her forearms and looked away.

‘Goodbye, Shane,’ she whispered as the tall police officer led Shane to the car.

TWENTY-EIGHT

As Kim shut the car door, she still wasn’t sure why she’d come to this place. All she knew was that a face filled with uncertainty kept swimming before her eyes.

She walked through the double doors and stopped at a reception desk. A young girl with a shock of pink hair greeted her with a smile.

‘May I help?’

Kim was unsure how to respond. ‘I’ll just take a look.’

The girl nodded and pointed to another set of double doors. Kim headed through and her senses were assaulted. The smell was a mixture of disinfectant, dog food and faeces. A cacophony of barking erupted at the sound of a bell when she’d pushed the doors open.

The first cubicle held two Staffordshire bull terrier puppies; small, compact and solid. Kim didn’t stop. She passed a variety of sizes and breeds as she looked into each pen. The only other visitors were a young couple leaning down and cooing at a Jack Russell doing his best to impress. She carried on walking right down to the last cubicle; Siberia.

The dog lay in his basket. He raised his eyes but stayed where he was. Kim swore she saw a hint of recognition.

‘Oh, that’s Barney,’ said a voice behind her. She turned to find a portly middle-aged woman with tightly curled greying hair. The name badge told her she was being addressed by Pam. Underneath it said, ‘Volunteer’.

Kim made no reply and realised that Barney didn’t even have a name tag on his kennel.

‘Poor thing,’ the woman sighed. ‘He doesn’t even bother to get up and greet anyone. It’s like he’s given up.’

Situated in Siberia, without a name tag, Kim couldn’t help but wonder who had given up on whom. The woman carried on talking.

‘We were lucky to get him rehomed last time; it’s all but impossible now. He’s a bit difficult.’

‘Why?’ asked Kim, speaking for the first time.

‘He doesn’t like crowds.’ Check.

‘He doesn’t like kids.’ Check.

‘But he likes lots of love and fuss.’ Well, two out of three wasn’t bad.

‘Poor thing. He was treated badly as a puppy, and ’cos he doesn’t play well with kids or other dogs he’s been brought back countless times. A few of his owners tried to make him better. One employed a dog whisperer to try and help him.’

Kim raised one eyebrow. A bloody doggie shrink?

‘Nothing worked. In eight years he’s had as many homes. He’s a bit weird, but people just try and make him better and then end up disappointed. No one just accepts him for …’

‘I’ll take him,’ Kim said, surprising herself as much as the chatterbox beside her.

Barney’s head had lifted, as though echoing the portly woman’s next statement.

‘Are you sure?’

Kim nodded. ‘What now?’

‘Err … if you follow me we’ll go to reception and do the paperwork. I’m sure we can forego the home visit on this occasion.’

Kim followed the way she’d come. She guessed they were eager for the kennel. Barney was the only dog with a pen to himself.

Two forms and a debit card payment later, Barney was sitting in the back of her car with, she would swear, a bemused expression on his face. She still had no idea why she’d gone to see him, let along bring him home with her. Kim only knew that watching him being led away to uncertainty had stayed with her and the more she’d heard the volunteer speak about his social ineptness, the more the words had resonated within her. The offer of a new home had been out of her mouth before she could take it back.

The staff had been so surprised they’d loaded her car with his bed, toys, raw hide chews and two weeks’ supply of dog food. Kim thought they were so eager to be rid of him she could have pushed for a lifetime supply and they would have agreed.

‘Okay, boy, we’re here,’ she said, as she parked outside her house. He remained seated until she opened the car door and gripped his lead. She led him inside and removed the clip from his collar. Once the door was closed he covered every inch of the available floor space with his nose, his tail wagging.

Kim stood against the door. ‘Oh, Jesus, what have I done?’

The panic set in immediately. Her home had been invaded by another living creature. The enormity of her actions dawned on her. She was barely capable of taking care of her own basic needs, never mind anything else. She ate when she was hungry, she slept when her body dictated and she very rarely sought exercise voluntarily.

She fought the instinct to bundle him back into the car and return him. She knew how that felt. She took a deep breath and moved forward, taking control.

‘Okay, boy.’ Barney stopped what he was doing at the sound of her voice. ‘If this is gonna work we need some rules. Erm … I’m not sure what they are right now but the first one is absolutely no sofa, get it? There’s laminate flooring, a rug and your own bed. The sofa’s mine.’

Strangely, Kim felt better now that was understood. She walked around him to go into the kitchen. Barney continued his exploration but less fervently.

Coffee made, Kim sat and watched him wander around her space, his tail wagging contentedly. She took a moment to wonder what he was thinking. Was he really so easily transplanted or was he wary? Did he suspect that he was on nothing more than a holiday from the dog’s home and that his return would be guaranteed?

Barney approached and sat beside the coffee table, looking at her. He turned his head and appraised her mug and then returned his gaze to her. She did nothing and he repeated the motion.

‘Are you kidding me, dog?’

His tail swished the floor as she spoke.

She leaned forward and dipped her little finger into the cooling drink. His rough tongue lapped at the liquid and then he waited. Kim smiled, only she could get a dog that liked coffee as much as she did.

She poured a little of the liquid into his water bowl and cooled it with milk. His tongue slapped the bowl until it was bone dry. He raised his head, showing a creamy moustache.

Kim laughed. ‘No more. Dogs and coffee don’t mix.’

She took the rest of her drink back to the sofa. Barney seemed to get the message and lay close to her feet, almost touching.

She lay her head on the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. She had to make this work. As uncomfortable as it was having another living being sharing her space, something had driven her forward to the dog shelter. The idea of discarding him again made her feel sick.

Kim felt a movement on the sofa. She opened her eyes and found him sitting beside her. Still not touching.

‘Barney, I told you …’

In a single move that channelled the speed and deftness of a ferret, he was in the crook of her arm.

Okay, it was time to show the dog how this relationship was going to work. There would be food, water, a couple of toys, a bone or two, late night walks, but certainly not this.

As she opened her mouth, he nudged closer, rested his head on her right breast and looked deep into her eyes. His own gaze full of questions.

Her hand found its way to the top of Barney’s head, her fingers moving backwards and forwards in the smooth fur.

He sighed and closed his eyes and so did Kim. Yeah, she’d certainly shown him who was boss.

The rhythmic motion of stroking his soft fur lulled her into a state of relaxation.

Gradually the sensation of a small, warm body nestled against her evoked a memory so powerful, of another time, many years ago, of another small body beside her seeking protection and reassurance.

For the first time in twenty-eight years the tears escaped and rolled silently over her cheeks.