‘Then she should have thought about that before she opened her legs. But I don’t blame her. I blame you two. It was you who arranged for her to go to Cordell for the termination. You think the law can’t touch you. You’re protected by the Spades. Justice can never punish you. But I can.’
The tears were running openly over Saffie’s cheeks and falling from her chin, leaving Kim in no doubt that the termination had not been Saffie’s choice. Kim now understood why the girl had refused to go home after Sadie’s death. Right now, she could not stand to be around the people who had forced her to abort her child.
But Kim needed to keep Graham talking to continue her journey along the pool. She had one tool in her arsenal, and it had to be timed perfectly.
‘It was you who sent the messages to Monty Johnson, you who welcomed him back to the group in exchange for the murder of Joanna Wade,’ Kim said. ‘You knew when she asked for the poem back that she was going to give it to me and I’d realise what had set these events in motion.’
‘You two seemed awfully close,’ he said, glancing her way.
‘Christian saw you, didn’t he?’ Kim asked. ‘He saw something when you were murdering Shaun in the locker room. You took him into the janitor’s room and strung him up, thinking you’d killed him. He’d done nothing wrong, you bastard,’ she growled.
‘I’m not the bastard,’ he said, looking at Laurence Winters, whose eyes were trained on his daughter. ‘He’s the cause of this. It all started with him.’
Kim knew she had to re-engage Saffie’s attention. The girl had to be ready to act when she got the opportunity, and Kim could only provide it once.
She took another step to the side.
‘And the guilt for killing that child all those years ago was the catalyst for the murders?’ Kim asked.
He nodded. ‘That event has shaped my whole life while they have cheerfully continued with theirs, ignorant of the torture. The guilt I’ve lived with for twenty-five years. That I took a life, two lives and—’
‘Except you didn’t,’ Kim said, finally arriving at her target. ‘Did he, Mrs Winters?’
One Hundred Three
‘What are you talking about?’ Hannah asked, looking Kim straight in the eye.
Kim remembered everything she’d learned from Keats about the death twenty-five years ago; the marks around Lorraine’s neck that didn’t fit with being pushed into the pool.
For the first time she saw shock on Laurence Winters’s face and knew she was right.
She had realised that Laurence wouldn’t have climbed down into the pool to finish Lorraine off. He hadn’t had the courage to do it the first time, he’d tricked Graham, so he wouldn’t have had the backbone to do it when that plan failed. It was Hannah who had warned Alistair Milton away from Saffie. He had called her the ruthless one.
‘Graham didn’t kill Lorraine. You did.’
Kim glanced towards Saffie, who moved away from the counsellor in the first few seconds of his confusion. She stumbled and fell but Graham was not looking her way anymore. She scrabbled across the tiled floor towards Kim.
‘You pushed her into the empty pool, Graham, but she didn’t die. Not until Hannah Winters climbed down there and finished the job just to be sure. Nothing was going to break up the power couple.’
Graham staggered forward. ‘No… no… no…’
‘Yes, Graham, she’s allowed you to suffer for the last twenty-five years knowing you didn’t kill her. Hannah finished her off with her bare hands around her neck.’
Laurence’s gaze was fixed on his stricken wife, numbed by shock.
‘Hannah?’ he said, doubtfully.
Stung by the horror in his face, her eyes hardened.
‘One of us had to make sure she was dead,’ she spat. ‘She would never have left us alone. She would have had that child and been tied to us for the rest of our…’
Her words trailed away as Graham began running towards the couple that had ruined his life.
Laurence Winters stepped into the path of the raging bull who could only see the woman that had allowed him to fester in his own guilt. His eyes locked on her, hatred radiating from his gaze.
Kim lurched towards them but knew she didn’t have the time.
‘Noooo…’ screamed Hannah as the knife slid effortlessly into Laurence’s torso.
Immediately the blood began to stain the pure white tuxedo.
Hannah stood motionless as her husband buckled to the ground.
Graham stood, rooted to the spot, holding the dripping knife.
Laurence falling to the ground offered Graham a clear path to the true object of his hatred. He took a step forward.
Kim grabbed his wrist as he turned the knife towards Hannah. She dodged out of its path as he held fast to the knife and waved it around.
‘Give it to me, Graham,’ she said urgently.
She locked the fingers of her free hand around his grip trying to loosen his hold.
The expression in his eyes was murderous as Hannah took a step towards her writhing husband.
‘Graham, give me the knife,’ she said, again.
He shook her off easily. He wasn’t hearing or seeing anything, only the woman leaning down on the ground.
Kim knew that any rational logic had left him. Anyone that got between him and his target would be hurt.
Three more steps and he’d be on Hannah.
Kim thought quickly. There were two places men were equally vulnerable whatever their size. His front was heading away from her, which ruled out the first.
She raised her right leg in the air and kicked hard at the back of his knees.
He stumbled and fell forward; the sound of the blade clattered against the tile.
Kim pounced on his back at the waist as though riding a horse. She had to stop him doing any more damage. Kim felt herself being lifted as he tried to buck her off his back. She held on tight to his jacket. She had to get that knife, and her only chance was while he was on the ground.
She lurched forward and landed around his middle back. His hand was back on the knife. She leaned forward, covering him, her breasts pushed against the back of his head.
She balled her hand up into a fist and smashed it down onto his fingers.
He cried out as his fingers splayed open.
She pushed the knife out of his reach as he lifted himself onto his knees, which caused her to topple off his back onto the tile. He lifted his injured hand and towered above her, his legs splayed above her knee. She raised her leg and struck him full force in the groin.
He tumbled down on top of her.
The weight knocked the breath from her body, but she took the opportunity to wriggle from beneath him. She balled up her fist and punched him in the face as hard as she could. The pain shot from her knuckles right up to her wrist.
Blood spurted from his nose as his eyes rolled into unconsciousness.
Kim turned to see Saffie nodding towards his right hand.
It took Kim three seconds to catch up.
Hannah Winters had disappeared and so had the knife.
One Hundred Four
Kim bent over Laurence Winters who was holding onto his stomach. The initial blood stream had slowed and from the noise he was making it was not life-threatening. He’d live and so would Hannah Winters if she had anything to do with it.
‘Saffie, are you okay?’ she asked, removing the gag from her mouth.
‘Y-yes… but my Dad…’ she said, moving towards him.
‘He’ll be fine,’ Kim said, grabbing Saffie’s wrists and untying the bandage that had bound her.
Saffie dropped to the floor beside her father.
‘Dad… dad… it’s me…’ she said, as the tears rolled over her cheeks.
‘Get his phone and call for an ambulance,’ Kim shouted as she tied Graham’s feet together and his wrists to the metal handrail that led into the pool.
‘He’s secure,’ she said, taking out her mobile phone. She could sure use a hand right now.
She groaned when she saw the cracked screen. Her thumb failed to light it up. It must have happened when Graham landed on top of her.
Damn it, she couldn’t waste any more time.