And now Fiona Woods lay brutally murdered and she too had been connected to Alex. She was Alex Taylor’s best friend and she had been present, according to Caroline Cowan, when Alex Taylor had made a serious drug error. Was she dead because of what she knew? Had she known incriminating things about her best friend? Had Greg badly judged the situation through wilful blindness and was he now partly to blame for Fiona Woods’s death? He sighed deeply. Where was Alex Taylor? Where or to whom would she run? Patrick Ford seemed to think it would be him. He was cocksure about his place in her life. He didn’t question or doubt her next move. In fact, Greg suddenly realised, he didn’t question anything. He didn’t even ask why the police were looking for her. That surely wasn’t normal? Maybe he had judged Patrick Ford wrong. He may have already given Alex Taylor a place to hide.
His thoughts were interrupted by the officers around him as chairs scraped on the floor and voices asked questions. Laura had stepped into the incident room and Greg observed how some of the officers were surrounding her as if greeting a hero back from a war. Their voices were rich with admiration and he could see she was basking in the glory. She was wearing a well-tailored navy suit and cerise blouse, and guessed the get-up was in preparation for meeting the top brass.
She was obviously hoping, or assuming, that they would come to the station if an arrest was made, and she was probably right. Announcements to the press would have to be made, and an officer interviewed by reporters for the local news. He wouldn’t be chosen for the job. He wasn’t wearing the right shirt or suit and he still hadn’t got around to getting a haircut, so the chance of her being in the limelight was high.
Why, he wondered, had she come back? Last he heard she was staking out the hospital. She looked incredibly excited about something. Her eyes were bright, her top teeth exposed as she bit her lower lip. He didn’t have to wait long to find out.
‘I’ve secured the scene. You need to get up there fast,’ she said, talking only to him, but making sure the others were listening.
Her tone was officious, as if she were the boss and not the other way round.
He took a slow sip of his coffee, his manner completely unrushed. ‘What scene and where?’ he calmly asked, not giving her the satisfaction of seeing him jump to attention.
‘She’s left her car abandoned at the north side of the hospital, unlocked and driver door open. It has to have been left in the last hour or so, because it wasn’t there earlier. She can’t be far away, and my bet is she’s in that hospital somewhere.’
‘Who,’ he asked, ‘can’t be far away?’
‘Alex Taylor, of course,’ she said back impatiently, as if it was obvious.
He walked slowly across the room towards her; he wanted to be standing very close to her when he told her to take the sarcasm out of her voice, when he told her if she disrespected him one more time she’d be up on report.
Two things got in the way of what he was about to say: the smug grin on Laura Best’s face and the Internet site he’d opened earlier. Joe’s phone call had interrupted him before he got a chance to view it, and since then he’d forgotten about it.
The small inset photograph showed a handsome fair-haired man who looked well groomed, and appeared to be someone used to the finer things. Greg vaguely recognised him. His name and a date were beside the photo: Oliver Ryan 1979–2016.
The man he needed to speak to was dead.
*
Her eyes were closed against the glare of the lights. They stung from the tears she had cried, and the only way to soothe them was by keeping them closed. Her heart was beating loudly, but not as fast as before. It had settled into a rhythm that was more bearable.
It was quite conceivable that she could have a heart attack, even as young and fit as she was, if she was terrorised sufficiently. She almost relished the thought. It would be a quick death and he would have no more control over her.
When he next came to her she wouldn’t fight her fear; she wouldn’t try to block out what was happening to her and what he was about to do. She would let him into her mind, and then hopefully her heart would betray her and she would die.
She held her breath as she felt his presence, and then she made herself open her eyes.
Joy of great magnitude instantly filled her and more tears flooded her eyes. She couldn’t speak for the tightness in her throat. Her prayers had finally been answered. Maggie’s face stared down at her.
She couldn’t think fast enough to ask when and how she had got there because already she was thinking they had to get out fast. He was close by, and if he caught Maggie then she too would be in danger.
‘Get me up,’ she whispered urgently. ‘Hurry before he comes back.’
Maggie looked over her shoulder and then down at her friend. ‘He’s not here.’
‘He’s not far, then,’ Alex answered fiercely. ‘Hurry, Maggie! He’ll come back any second. Undo my arms.’
Maggie raised the green drape and dropped it back in place. ‘You’re naked.’
‘Forget that!’ Alex hissed. ‘Just get me off this fucking table.’
Maggie bit her lip and for a moment looked as if she was about to cry. ‘He’s left all these things out,’ she whispered. Her hands lifted surgical instruments, wasting precious seconds. ‘I told you it couldn’t have happened the way you said it did.’
‘Maggie, we haven’t got time! Alex whispered urgently. ‘Please, he’ll kill us both.’
Maggie raised something in her hand, her voice excited. ‘Look, Alex! Look what I found!’ A small black rubber disc was held between her fingers, a thin wire dangling from it. ‘You know what this is, don’t you?’ She moved things noisily on the metal tray, clanking instruments, urgently searching for something.
‘Leave it!’ Alex desperately hissed. ‘Please, Maggie!’
‘I can’t! Do you realise what this means?’ She moved away from the head of the bed and Alex could hear her frantically searching. ‘It’s here somewhere. I know it is!’ She crossed back over to Alex, quickly patting the space around Alex’s head and then she heaved a sigh of relief. ‘God it was so .?.?.’ she held up something square, silver and no bigger than a matchbox. She deftly attached the two things she’d found together. She sighed again. ‘It was just so damn .?.?.’
She placed the black rubber disk close to her mouth and spoke: ‘Easy to fool you.’
Alex bucked violently as if electrocuted, her eyes stretched in horror. The voice! His voice! Coming from Maggie’s mouth! Sweet Jesus, it couldn’t be true? Maggie, the person she had come to trust, the one who believed in her, helped her .?.?.
Maggie laughed cruelly, her male voice terrifying Alex. It had never occurred to her that it was a woman speaking.
A simple little voice changer, the gadget hidden behind a surgical mask, confusing her into thinking that it was a man speaking to her. When all the time it was Maggie beside her wearing a mask, a gown, a pair of purple gloves, creating a work of make-believe. With the operating lights blinding her and her arms strapped down, she had even believed that cannulas had been inserted in her veins, when in reality no needles punctured her skin. Just a bit of tape holding the cannula against the skin like they would do in a medical drama; she was, as Maggie said, easy to fool.
Maggie moved the gadget away from her lips. She sighed, and smiled down at Alex. ‘Are you comfortable?’
*