‘Yes it was,’ said Jack. ‘Like it was with the kids. You scared the shit out of them and they loved you for it. Every night they came back for more stories and more dares.’
It was true. They had, and Jack was also right about those times being good. Carter sat back on the bed and looked around him.
Jack was perched at the bottom of the bed. Where was Tom? Finally he made out his friend’s outline slouched against the wall close to the door. So far he had said nothing. He certainly had not joined in with Jack’s jolly jape.
‘You okay, mate?’ Carter asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.
Tom seemed to nod, but remained silent. Then Carter realised that Ray had gone. He gasped, and peered into every shadowy corner.
‘You can put the light on if you want,’ said Tom sullenly, ‘But you won’t find him. He’s gone.’
Tom moved forward out of the shadows. ‘The question is, which one of the two of us is next?’
Carter flicked the switch on his bedside lamp, and then recoiled in horror and dismay. His friend looked like something that belonged on a butcher’s block. Carter gagged and fought back the rising bile. He couldn’t be sick! He just couldn’t. He swallowed hard, jumped up, and ran to the kitchen, where he splashed water over his face and neck.
It was another legacy from the accident. Weird, but there it was. Carter had a morbid fear of vomiting. Laura said it even had a name. Emetophobia or something like that.
He leant back against the kitchen sink and breathed deeply. It was passing, thank God. He just needed to try not to think about Tom. What the hell had happened? They had been so much better. If he half closed his eyes, they looked as they always had. But now! He shuddered and concentrated on his breathing.
He had to get himself back into the bedroom. Tom had asked him a question, and he needed to answer it. When he reached the door, he hesitated.
‘Come on in, mate.’ It was Tom. ‘Sit down, and look at me.’
Carter reluctantly did as he was told. There was Tom, smiling apologetically at him.
His face was not perfect, but it was recognisable now.
Let’s get this over with, thought Carter. ‘You asked who should be next. I thought perhaps it should be Jack. Whatever I can do, I’ll try to do it.’
‘I thought you’d say that, and that’s cool by me.’ Tom nodded slowly. ‘In fact it’s probably better that way, because my own dilemma is not exactly straightforward. Is it?’
Carter’s heart sank. This didn’t sound good. But first, Jack. He turned to his other friend, preparing himself for what he was about to ask.
The room was empty. Carter sat on the bed and put his head in his hands.
CHAPTER NINE
Carter was about to start his car and go to work. He reached out to switch on the ignition and saw a figure sitting next to him in the passenger seat. Jack. Tom was sitting in the back, humming a sad tune. In the confined space inside the car the smell of burning was almost unbearable.
‘I’ve been thinking, mate.’ Jack sounded almost apologetic. ‘I know Ray said throwing money at things wasn’t always the answer . . .’ He stopped, as if he were too embarrassed to go on.
‘Just ask. If I can do something to make you feel better, anything at all, I’ll do it, I promise.’ That was no longer quite true. Now he would do whatever it took to make them go away.
‘There’s something that’s worrying me, mate. I know I’ve never told you this, but I’ve got a kid.’
Tom broke off his humming for a moment, as if in mild surprise. Then he continued.
‘A little girl. Her name is Phoebe. Her mum, well, it was complicated. I guess I wasn’t quite what her parents wanted for their daughter. We came from very different backgrounds, so . . .’
Carter shook his head. ‘No, Jack, you didn’t tell me. Does the mother know you’re . . .’ He stopped.
‘Dead? Yeah, she knows.’ Jack sounded utterly miserable. ‘But Kim, that’s her name, has fallen out with her parents, and I don’t know how she’s going to look after Phoebe. She loves her to bits, but she’s struggling. I was going to help her, but . . .’
‘I’ll help her. Just tell me where I can find her.’
Jack gave him a surname and an address. ‘Don’t just hand over money, Carter. I think there’s some bad people around her right now. Find another way, will you?’
Carter nodded. He knew a lot about financial arrangements. This was one task he could achieve without help and he could sort it quickly and efficiently. ‘Don’t worry, Jack. Leave it to me. Your little girl will have everything she needs, and a good education, rest assured.’
Carter turned to smile at his friend, but the passenger seat was empty, and apart from the faint echo of a melancholy song, he was alone again.
The stench of burning flesh abated, and Carter leant back against the headrest. He could do this with his eyes closed! Which just left his fourth friend, Tom. Carter’s relief gave way to concern. Tom had said that his request was complicated.
*
In the CID room, Jackman stared from one to the other of his detectives. ‘Anyone got anything more on Suzanne Holland?’
The only response he got was a low murmur of dissent.
‘Max? Any luck with tracing her movements in the week before she disappeared?’
Max shook his head. ‘Apart from a couple of nocturnal assignations after her husband walked out, absolutely nothing. It’s like she was some kind of vampire that slept all day and went on the hunt at night.’
‘Surely she had to show up at work?’
Charlie raised a hand. ‘I spoke to her boss at the tanning salon where she worked. He confirmed that Suzanne called in sick a couple of weeks before she vanished, and never went back.’
‘Not too sick to go on the pull though,’ Max grumbled.
Robbie Melton stood up. ‘I’ve had a thought, sir. Well, it’s just a hunch really.’
‘Out with it. Whatever it is, it’s more than the rest of us have come up with.’
Robbie explained his theory that Harvey Cash, her first husband, knew a lot more than he was admitting. There was possibly a very dark side to Suzanne Holland, one that maybe got her killed or abducted. ‘We can’t force him to talk, especially over the phone. He’d just do what he did last night and hang up. So I thought I might go and see him.’
A chorus of catcalls and jeers echoed around the room.
Jackman smiled, and held up his hand to silence them. ‘They have a point, Robbie. I have to account for every single forensic test carried out and decide whether we can even afford to do a bloody ￡1.10 credit search or not. I don’t think you spending a few days under the Spanish sun will fit in too well with the super’s budget.’
Robbie laughed too. ‘I wasn’t expecting it to come out of the force budget, sir. I’m due a few days’ leave, so I thought I might go and top up my tan in Sanxenxo.’
‘Right!’ Max grinned at Robbie’s night-shift pallor. ‘I think it would take more than a couple of days to turn you into a bronzed Apollo.’
‘Then maybe I’ll just check out the sangria, with a man who knows the area.’