‘Liz?’ he said, confused by her drastic change in mood. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Fine,’ she replied as she wrapped her coat around her. As she fumbled with the buttons, her hands started to tremble. Then, to Wolf’s astonishment, she wiped her tearful eyes. ‘I’d like to go please.’
She walked over to the door.
‘Did he say something to upset you?’ Wolf asked. He could feel himself getting angry. He felt protective over this woman who had to deal with the very worst of humanity on a daily basis. He knew that it would have taken an undeservedly vicious jibe to get under Elizabeth’s thick skin.
‘I’m a big girl, William,’ she snapped. ‘The door – now, please.’
Wolf walked over and slid the heavy bar across. Another blast of wind and rain accompanied the distant rumble of thunder as Elizabeth stepped outside.
‘Your briefcase!’ said Wolf, realising that she must have left it in with Rana.
Elizabeth looked terrified.
‘I can get it for you. You don’t have to see him again,’ he said.
‘I’ll pick it up in the morning.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Jesus, Will, just leave it!’ she shouted and then she tottered away down the steps.
‘What was all that about?’ asked Finlay without taking his eyes off the tiny screen.
Wolf watched Elizabeth turn the corner onto the high street. Slowly, an unsettled feeling began to tighten in his chest. He looked down at his watch: 12.07 a.m.
‘Open the door!’ he screamed as he sprinted back down the corridor.
The alarmed officer dropped the keys, allowing Walker time to catch up. The lock clunked firmly, and Wolf shoved the weighty door open to reveal Rana sitting upright on the mattress. He heard Walker exhale in relief behind him …
… and then gasp as he looked again at the seated prisoner.
Rana’s head was slumped forward, his face painted the bruised blues and purples of the dead, his bloodshot eyes protruding unnaturally from their sockets. What looked to be piano wire had been coiled several times around his neck, cutting deep lines into the dark skin. More wire sprouted from the inner edge of the open briefcase, obvious now that it was no longer hidden in plain sight.
‘Call an ambulance!’ Wolf yelled as he tore back along the corridor and out into the night.
He leapt down the slippery steps, splashed through the flooded car park and rounded the corner onto the high street as the torrential rain lashed across his face. Less than thirty seconds had elapsed, yet Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen along the deserted pavement. He ran past dark shop windows, aware that he was disadvantaged by the noise of the storm. Every car that passed sounded more like an aircraft taking off as the spray of surface water built and subsided as they sped by. The millions of raindrops were being amplified as they collided with the metal roofs of parked cars.
‘Elizabeth!’ he shouted, but the sound was carried away in the wind.
He sprinted past an alleyway between two shops and paused. Retracing his steps, he stood in the dark mouth of the thin passageway, squinting into the blackness. He edged a little further in, listening to the rain strike the glass bottles, discarded packaging and whatever other litter carpeted the invisible alley floor.
‘Elizabeth?’ he called softly. He edged further in. He could feel the floor cracking beneath his feet. ‘Elizabeth?’
He heard a sudden movement and then felt himself being shoved against the cold brick wall. He reached out and almost grabbed a handful of clothing as Elizabeth ran back out onto the street.
Wolf was only a few seconds behind as he emerged into the grainy glow of an orange streetlight. Elizabeth panicked and recklessly darted into the road. An estate car skidded to a stop just inches from her and added the furious blare of its horn to the already deafening night. Elizabeth was now several metres ahead of him. Bizarrely, she took out her mobile phone as her pace began to slow and held it to her ear. Wolf was catching up quickly and could see the blood and dirt covering the soles of her feet from where she had run barefoot through the oily puddles and muddy verges. Finally within earshot, he could hear her panting into the phone:
‘It’s done! It’s done!’
He reached out to grab hold of her, when she suddenly veered back into the road. Instinctively, he followed, unsure whether there was a break in the traffic or not. Elizabeth stumbled across the pedestrian island in the middle of the wide road and tripped onto the tarmac. She climbed back onto her hands and knees to find that Wolf had paused in the centre of the road. She saw the look of horror on his face and turned to follow his gaze just as the double-decker bus bore down on her.
She never screamed.
Wolf moved slowly towards the crumpled shape, which was lying against a kerb over ten metres back down the street. He heard more cars skidding to a halt behind him, throwing headlight beams over the broken body. He could feel tears welling up, too traumatised and exhausted to even attempt to fathom why his friend had done this.
The dazed bus driver staggered over to him while his handful of passengers gawped out at the scene from the comfort of their seats. He wore an expression of hope on his face, hope that the woman might still get up, hope that perhaps she had not even been injured, hope that his life had not just changed forever. Wolf had no inclination to console or even acknowledge the man. He could not be blamed for failing to spot a woman lying in the road in such treacherous conditions, but he had been the one to end Elizabeth’s life and Wolf did not trust his temper at that moment.
As another car joined the growing queue of traffic, a fresh section of the dark road was illuminated, and Wolf noticed Elizabeth’s cracked phone sitting in the exact spot where the bus had hit her. He slowly crawled over to it and flipped it over to discover that the call was still connected. Holding it tightly to his ear, he could make out rustling and quiet breathing on the other end of the line.
‘Who is this?’ Wolf’s voice cracked as he asked the question.
There was no answer, only the steady breathing of somebody listening in and the sound of industrial machinery operating somewhere in the background.
‘This is Detective Sergeant Fawkes with the Metropolitan Police. Who is this?’ he asked again; although, he had a feeling that he already knew the answer.
Blue lights were approaching in the distance, but Wolf sat motionless, listening to the killer listening to him. Wolf wanted to threaten him, to scare him, to somehow provoke a reaction out of him but knew that he would never be able to articulate the pure anger and hatred that he was experiencing. Instead, he continued to listen, ignoring the buzz of activity that surrounded him. He did not know why he slowed his breathing to match the killer’s, but shortly after there was a loud crackle from the other end of the phone and the line abruptly went dead.
CHAPTER 13
Wednesday 2 July 2014
5.43 a.m.