Blue Monday

Chapter Forty-four

Karlsson knocked at the door and it opened almost before his hand dropped back to his side. A small, strong-looking woman stood before him, wearing old jeans and an orange jumper with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows. Her face, bare of makeup, looked tired and anxious.

‘Carrie Dekker? I’m Detective Chief Inspector Malcolm Karlsson. And this is Detective Constable Yvette Long. I think you and your husband are expecting us.’

‘Alan’s in the kitchen.’ She hesitated. ‘He’s quite upset.’

‘We just need to ask some questions.’

‘Can I stay?’

‘If you like.’

Karlsson followed her into the kitchen.

‘Alan,’ she said softly. ‘They’re here, Alan.’

He was a crumpled, distraught figure. He was still wearing his shabby duffel coat and sat slumped at the kitchen table. When he lifted his face, Karlsson saw that he looked as if he had been crying for hours, days even.

‘This is urgent,’ said Karlsson. ‘You need to tell us what happened.’

‘I told him he shouldn’t go,’ said Carrie. ‘I told him. I said he was putting himself in danger.’

‘I wasn’t in any danger. I told you. We met in a crowded place. It was only for a few minutes.’ He gulped. ‘It was like looking in a mirror. I should have told you. I know I should. A few weeks ago, I had no idea he even existed. I had to see him. I’m sorry.’

He was visibly trembling and there were tears in his eyes again. Carrie sat beside him and took one of his hands between her own. She kissed his knuckles and he leaned his big, heavy head towards her. ‘It’s all right, my darling,’ she said.

Karlsson saw how she protected him, motherly and tender. ‘What time did he call you?’

‘What time was it, Carrie? About nine, maybe a bit before. I heard they found the little boy.’

‘It was partly down to you.’

‘I’m just glad I could do something.’

‘When he called you, what did he say?’

‘He said we had to meet. That he didn’t have long and it was our only chance. He told me he wanted to give me something.’

‘And you agreed?’

‘Yes.’ It came out in a mumble. ‘I had a feeling that if I didn’t, then I would never see him. That it was my only chance and if I passed up on it I would regret it for the rest of my life. Does that sound stupid?’

‘Do you have the number he called on?’

‘It was a mobile,’ said Carrie. ‘After Alan left, I did a 1471 and wrote it down.’ She passed over a scrap of paper, which Karlsson gave to DC Long.

‘Where did you arrange to meet?’

‘On the high street. He was already there, he said. By the old Woolworths. It’s closed and boarded up now. He said he’d look out for me. Then I told Carrie.’

‘You had to, didn’t you? I heard you talking on the phone anyway. I was going to go with him. I wanted to but he said his brother might not talk to him if I was there. So I let him go but not until he’d promised to phone me every five minutes. I had to know he was safe.’

‘What time did you meet him?’

‘I walked slowly. I felt sick all the way there. About ten minutes.’

‘Was he there?’

‘He came up behind me. Took me by surprise.’

‘What was he wearing? Do you remember?’

‘An old leather jacket. Jeans. A woollen hat, kind of greeny-brown colour, I think, which covered his hair.’

‘Go on.’

‘He called me bro. He said, “Well, bro, it’s nice to make your acquaintance.” Like it was a joke.’

‘What else?’

‘Then Carrie rang me on my mobile and I told her it was all OK and I was safe. I said I’d be back as soon as I could. After, he said – sorry, love – he said, “Are you a bit henpecked, bro? You don’t want a nagging wife, you know. They’re the worst, trust me.” He said he wanted to have a look at me. And he wanted to give me something.’

‘What?’

‘Hang on.’

Karlsson watched Alan retrieve a canvas holdall from under the table. It was obviously heavy and it clinked. He put it on the surface between them.

‘He wanted me to have his special tools,’ he said. ‘I haven’t looked at them yet.’

He started pulling at the zip with thick fingers.

‘Don’t touch them,’ said Carrie, sharply. ‘Don’t go touching anything that belonged to him.’

‘It was a gift.’

‘He’s wicked. We don’t want that in the house.’

‘I’ll take them,’ said Karlsson. ‘Did he say anything else?’

‘Not really. He said something stupid. To remember there were worse things than being dead.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What was his manner? Was he agitated?’

‘I was in a state, but he was calm. He didn’t seem in a hurry. It was like he knew where he was going.’

‘Anything else?’

‘No. He patted me on the shoulder, said it was nice to meet me, and then he just left.’

‘Which way did he go?’

‘I don’t know. I saw him turn off the high street. It leads to the bus depot and that waste bit of ground where they’re building the superstore.’

‘He didn’t tell you where he was going?’

‘No.’

‘You’re not protecting him?’

‘I wouldn’t do that. He’s a bad man. There was something about him.’ This with sudden venom.

‘After you saw him leave, you went home?’

‘I rang Carrie to say I was OK and he’d left. I felt strange but it was like a relief as well. Like something had gone out of my life, like I was free of him.’

‘You didn’t go anywhere or speak to anyone after you saw him go?’

‘No. Nobody.’

‘And there’s nothing else you can think of?’

‘That’s everything. I’m sorry. I know I’ve done wrong.’

Karlsson stood up. ‘DC Long is going to stay here for the time being, and I’ll send another officer over as well. Just do what they say.’

‘Will he come back?’ Carrie’s hands flew to her mouth.

‘It’s just a precaution.’

‘You think we’re in danger.’

‘He’s a dangerous man. This might not be over yet. I wish you’d called us.’

‘Sorry. I just – I had to see him. Just the once.’

Karlsson ordered a redeployment around the area where Reeve had met his brother. He didn’t feel hopeful, though. It was early afternoon and the paltry day was already fading back into darkness. In houses and flats, Christmas lights glowed in the windows and garlands hung from knockers. There were gaudy trees in shops and the streets were bright with neon bells, reindeers and characters from children’s cartoons. A small group of men and women were singing carols outside Tesco Direct and rattling buckets. Once again, spits of snow drifted in the bitter air. It would be a white Christmas of a kind, thought Karlsson, but for him Christmas was an unreal thing. Dimly, he imagined his children in their house far from here: the tree with the presents stacked underneath, the smell of mince pies, their hectic cheeks, family life continuing but without him in it. Matthew had been rescued and was safe, a fact beyond everyone’s wildest hopes. The papers would herald him as the best Christmas present his parents would ever have. A miracle. In truth, it felt like a miracle to Karlsson. He had long ago given Matthew up as dead. He knew he was tired, but he didn’t feel it. He felt stingingly awake, more clear-headed than he had felt in days.

Frieda was still at the police station when he returned. She was sitting in an empty interview room, quite straight-backed, with her hair newly brushed, drinking from a mug. He smelt peppermint. She looked up expectantly.

‘They’re still looking. He’s out there somewhere. Where can he go?’

‘Is Alan all right?’

‘Very shocked. Who wouldn’t be? He’s gone through a traumatic experience and it isn’t over yet. His wife’s a strong woman.’

‘He’s lucky to have her.’

‘By the look of him, he’ll be in touch with you soon.’

‘Perhaps, though I might be the last person in the world he wants to see. I’d like to see him. Apart from anything else, he’ll soon have the most hated face in the country.’

‘I know. And that lot out there …’ He nodded towards the front of the station, where a crowd was still gathered. ‘They’re not the most forgiving lot in the world.’

Karlsson left the room and before Frieda even had time to start thinking about what she should do, whether it was time to go home and try to sleep, he burst back in. ‘They’ve found him,’ he said.

‘Where?’

‘In an old dock off the side of the canal just along from where he met Dekker. Under a bridge. He was hanging from it.’