‘It’s the truth, whether you like it or not.’
Next to me, Katie is silent. I look at her and see she is shaking, her face completely devoid of colour. Melissa straightens. She moves to sit at the swivel chair by her desk, and switches on the computer.
‘Let us go, Melissa.’
She laughs. ‘Oh, come on, Zoe, you’re not that stupid. You know about the website now; you know what I’ve done. I can’t just let you go.’
‘So leave us here!’ I cry, suddenly realising there’s another way. ‘You go, now. Lock us in. We won’t know where you’ve gone, and we won’t tell the police anything you’ve told us. You could delete everything from your computer!’ I’m aware I’m sounding hysterical. I stand up, unsure even as I do so exactly what I’m planning to do.
‘Sit down.’
I can’t feel my legs, yet they move towards Melissa on autopilot.
‘Sit down!’
‘Mum!’
It happens so fast I don’t have time to react. Melissa gets out of her chair and slams in to me, knocking us both to the ground and landing on top of me, pinning me to the floor. Her left fist is clutching my hair, forcing my chin up, and her right hand is holding the knife to my throat.
‘I’m getting tired of this, Zoe.’
‘Get off her!’ Katie screams, pulling at Melissa’s jacket and placing a well-aimed kick to her stomach. She scarcely registers it and I feel the blade of her knife pressing against my skin.
‘Katie.’ My voice is barely a whisper. ‘Stop.’ She hesitates, then backs away, shaking so hard I can hear her teeth chattering. There’s a stinging sensation at my throat.
‘Mum, you’re bleeding!’
I feel the wetness trickle down the side of my neck.
‘Are you going to do as you’re told?’
I nod my head, the tiny movement causing another trickle of blood to escape from the cut on my throat.
‘Excellent.’ Melissa gets up. She brushes her knees, then pulls a tissue from her pocket and wipes the blade of the knife carefully. ‘Now, sit down.’
I do as I’m told. Melissa returns to her desk. She taps the keyboard and I see the familiar background to the findtheone website. Melissa enters a user name and password, but the site looks different; and I realise she has logged in as an administrator. She minimises the window then opens a new one, making several swift keystrokes. I see an Underground platform. It’s not busy; there are about a dozen people standing up, and a woman with a wheeled shopper sitting on a bench. I think at first we’re looking at a photograph, then the woman with the wheeled shopper stands up and begins walking along the platform.
‘Is that CCTV?’
‘Yes. I can’t take the credit for the cameras, just the redirection of the footage. I contemplated installing my own cameras but it would have meant restricting myself to just a couple of Underground lines. This way we can see the whole network. This is the Jubilee line.’ Another flurry of keystrokes, and the image changes to a different platform, a handful of people waiting for a train. ‘I can’t get the whole network, and annoyingly there’s no opportunity to control the direction of the cameras – I can only see what the operators can see. But it’s made the whole operation far easier, not to mention more interesting.’
‘What do you mean?’ Katie says.
‘Before I had the network I never knew what happened to the women. I had to take them off the website once their profiles were sold, as well as check they hadn’t changed jobs, or altered their route to work. Sometimes it would be days before I’d realise a woman was wearing a new coat. That’s not good for business. CCTV means I can watch them whenever I want. It means I get to see what happens to them.’
She continues tapping at the keyboard, before pressing enter with an exaggerated flourish. A slow smile spreads across her face as she turns to us.
‘Now, how about we play a little game?’
34
Kelly looked at the phone on her desk and steeled herself to dial. She had tried several times, always cancelling the call before it started ringing, and once hanging up just as it was answered. Before she could change her mind again, she picked up the phone and dialled. Cradling the receiver between her shoulder and her ear she listened to the ringtone; half wanting it to go to voicemail, half wanting to get it over and done with. Nick wanted everyone in the briefing room in ten minutes, and she’d be unlikely to get another chance to make a personal call till much later.
‘Hello.’
At the sound of Lexi’s voice, Kelly was suddenly mute. Around her everyone was getting ready to go into briefing; picking up notebooks and bending down over their desks to read last-minute emails. Kelly contemplated hanging up.
‘Hello?’ Then again, annoyed now. ‘Hello?’
‘It’s me.’