I was driving away from Nicky’s Gym as fast as I could. I had all the windows down, blasting the smell of sweat, spit and fear off myself. What I really needed was a shower. Ten hours’ sleep and a locked door I could rely on. Instead, once my hands were shaking too much to drive, and once I’d put enough distance between myself and the Fisks, I pulled over to a lay-by. I stepped over the guard-rail and walked out into the botched roadside landscape, and was sick, repeatedly, until there were tears in my eyes. Returning to the car I saw I had a missed call from Constable Black.
The smiling man was the furthest thing from my mind.
I leaned into the roof, breathing deeply, trying to force the shake out of my voice, then pressed call. ‘Constable Black …’ I said.
‘Waits. I was calling to tell you that an IC1 female, mid to late forties, just entered the Palace.’ That sounded like Natasha Reeve. I looked out at the road for a moment.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘I’ll be right with you. Keep an eye on that top floor for me.’
‘Copy that.’ She hesitated. ‘Are you OK?’
My phone beeped twice, indicating another incoming call.
‘I’ve got someone on the other line,’ I said. ‘Stay in position, I’m twenty minutes away.’ I hung up and answered the incoming call. ‘Waits.’
‘… Can’t stop …’ said Bateman.
‘You went to my fucking sister’s place.’
‘Can’t stop now, Wally,’ he said. ‘… Aidan …’
I swallowed. ‘We’ll drive out to the house tomorrow. Look for the bag, whatever. You win.’
12
Constable Black was sitting on the first floor of the Metropolitan University media hub, over the road from the Palace. I parked illegally, carded my way through the front desk and approached the table she was sitting at, by the window.
‘Constable,’ I said. She took in my dishevelled appearance without comment. What were a few more bruises?
‘I was about to text you. A couple, a man and a woman, just entered the building—’
‘OK,’ I said, trying to think. ‘OK, call for back-up. When they arrive, cover all the exits. You’d better get hold of Detective Inspector Sutcliffe as well.’
‘What should I tell him?’
‘That there’s been a development in the Palace Hotel death. To get down here immediately.’
Black nodded. As she did, her eyes went to the building across the road. I looked. Saw that the light in room 413 had been switched on.
‘That’s where they found him, isn’t it? Smiley Face?’
‘Back-up,’ I said, going for the stairs. I pushed my way out of the building and crossed the road through screaming traffic, holding my hands up to stop cars and cyclists.
Everything was moving too fast.
I reached the entrance and pushed the door.
To my surprise, it was open.
I stepped inside the lobby and called out to no answer. As with my first visit here, the only light came from the front desk. It was hopeless against the enormity of the space, gleaming off the glazed stone floor, and shrouding the rest of the room in darkness. I looked about me. At the gathering shadows, the pillars lining the walls. Then I started toward the light, stopping in the centre of the room, beside a pool of dark liquid. I crouched and put a finger to it. Against my skin it was brilliant, bright red. Unmistakably blood. It was still warm, and I could see spots beyond it, leading away from me.
‘Hello …’ I called out.
There was no answer.
I went forward, towards the corridor that led away from the lobby and to the grand staircase. Turning the corner I saw a man standing over a prone woman.
There was more blood on the floor.
‘Step away from her, Ali,’ I said. He had his back to me and for a moment he didn’t move.
‘She’s hurt …’ he said.
‘I can see that.’
Ali drew himself up, turned around and glared at me. I went towards them. Saw that the woman was Natasha Reeve. As I got closer he stepped back, leaning into the wall with his hands in his pockets. I crouched beside her, feeling for a pulse. She was alive. I took out my phone and called an ambulance, keeping a protective arm on her shoulder and both eyes locked on to Ali. When I was done, I took off my jacket, rolled it up and supported her head.
Ali stared at me, unblinking.
‘What happened here?’ I said.
‘You tell me …’ His formerly smooth accent was hardened with cynicism. I watched him. Waited. ‘I found her,’ he said finally.
‘Like you heard two men arguing on the night someone died here?’
‘Just like that …’
‘If there was any truth in that at all, one of those voices belonged to you.’
‘Whatever I say, you’ll hear the same thing.’
‘I think I’d have heard it if you’d told me that you knew the dead man.’
‘I did not.’
‘You were seen with him,’ I said, standing up. Ali looked, smoothly, both ways down the corridor, as though weighing up his options. ‘The exits are covered. No one’s leaving unless I say so. It’s time for the truth.’
His gaze fell to the floor. ‘The prostitute …’ he said. ‘She shouldn’t have been here.’
‘Marcus brought her here earlier that day. She wedged open a fire door and came back after his shift ended. She’d still be alive if she hadn’t seen you, wouldn’t she?’ He took a heated step towards me, stopping when he saw that I wanted him to. ‘Not tonight, Ali. It’d take more than a fucking fire extinguisher to put me down. Do you know what happened to Cherry?’ He shook his head. ‘Someone crushed her throat and dumped her in a canal like she was fuck-all.’
‘Shit in, shit out,’ he said, but I thought he was trying to convince himself.
Natasha stirred on the floor.
‘Turn around,’ I said. He didn’t move. ‘Turn around,’ I repeated. He did and I handcuffed him. I crouched to Natasha as she opened her eyes. ‘It’s OK. There’s an ambulance on the way.’
‘He hit me …’ she said weakly.
‘Who was it? Ali?’
Her eyes went to the security guard. ‘A stranger,’ she said. ‘At least, I thought …’
‘You knew him?’
‘He knew me,’ she said, frowning, trying to interpret the memory. ‘He looked at me with such hate …’
I looked at Ali. ‘Tell me the truth. Did you find her like this?’
‘I already told you the truth.’
‘What about the dead man?’
He looked at the ceiling, at me. ‘I never saw him before last week.’
‘And?’
‘And he came to the door. Slurring. Drunk, I thought. He said he was sick, dying. He looked like it. He said he spent his honeymoon in a room in this hotel, many years before. He offered me a large sum of money to let him see the room for a final time. I’m ashamed to say that I accepted it.’
‘Except, when you took him up there he dropped dead …’
He shook his head. ‘When I took him up there he was insane. Laughing. He told me that the money wasn’t real. Nothing was real. Life was an illusion.’
‘He’d been poisoned. Did he say anything about that?’
Ali closed his eyes. ‘He said many things. He was laughing. Screaming. Talking to himself like he was many people at once. I was afraid, and when I left the room I saw the prostitute. She’d been watching us, listening, and so I chased her, to make her go. But then more voices.’ He looked at me. ‘You. Coming up the stairs.’
‘You hit yourself over the head …’
‘It had to look like I was nothing to do with the man.’
‘Sounds drastic to me. What did he say to you in that room?’ Ali didn’t answer. ‘Did you kill Cherry?’ He shook his head. ‘Then you told someone about her.’
‘I had nothing to do with the rest of it.’
There was a sound from the lobby and I turned to see Constable Black approaching, truncheon extended.
‘Watch him,’ I said. ‘There’s an ambulance on the way for Ms Reeve.’
She nodded and I went towards the grand staircase.
Natasha had been assaulted by a man she hadn’t recognized, which counted her husband, Freddie Coyle, out. When I reached the second floor I saw Aneesa Khan, one staircase up, coming back down. I stopped but she didn’t see me for a moment.
She looked like she was in shock.