Dead Scared

AFTER I’D KICKED the knife away from me, I scrambled to my feet and tried the door. Locked, of course. There was no way out of this wooden box short of kicking the walls down and I really didn’t think I had the energy for that. So I pulled the gore-covered top sheet away from the bed and dropped it into a corner. There was no water in the taps but I cleaned myself as much as I could with a towel. On the bed was a blanket that was largely clean. Naked and freezing, I climbed beneath it, grabbed hold of Joesbury’s teddy and did the only thing possible. I fell asleep.

The phone woke me. My own phone, close by. I followed the sound and found it beneath the pillow. They’d missed my phone. How they’d been so stupid I had no idea but seconds were all I needed to tell someone where I was. The screen was bright. Joesbury! Joesbury was calling me.

‘It’s me. They’ve got me. I’m at the industrial estate. Unit 33.’

‘Easy, Flint, keep your knickers on,’ replied Joesbury in his distinctive south London accent. ‘Now, do you have anything serious to report? Because I’m about to finish for the day.’

‘I’m at the industrial estate. They’re going to …’ I stopped. This wasn’t Joesbury. And I could hear him in stereo, over the phone and from directly above me. At that moment I became aware of light getting stronger, flooding the room and coming from overhead. I heard a stifled giggle and looked up.

The false ceiling of my ‘room’ had been removed, and behind the powerful spotlight that shone down on me I could see right the way up to the roof of the industrial unit. Then the spotlight shifted a little, to pool its light against my fake wardrobe, and I could make out a narrow gangway about ten feet above my head. Standing on it and leaning against a safety rail were Talaith Robinson and John Castell. Talaith’s hair trailed down around her face like weed in a stagnant pond.

Then I heard clanging, the sound of two sets of footsteps walking along the gangway. Scott Thornton and Iestyn Thomas making their way towards Castell and Talaith. When the two newcomers reached the couple, they all looked down at me.

And there they were at last, the three men who’d singled me out as their latest victim on my very first night here, and the woman who’d probably tipped them off in the first place.

They were about to try again. I hadn’t walked into their trap earlier and I’d known they wouldn’t give up. This was where I had to be calm and clever. Play for time. Don’t give them what they want but don’t wind them up too much. I raised my left wrist, and looked at the spot where my watch would normally be.

‘Anyone got the time?’ I asked.

No reply. Talaith’s shoulders shook a little, as though she was almost, but not quite, laughing. Castell had a phone in his hand. It had been he imitating Joesbury just now.

‘Because I think you people might be running out of it,’ I went on. ‘Scotland Yard know all about this place and all about you. They’ve been watching you for months now.’

‘Is that so?’ said Castell.

‘There’s water at the foot of the bed,’ Talaith told me. ‘It should still be fairly warm. And some clothes. Get washed and get dressed.’

Being washed and dressed seemed like a very good idea. Doing it in front of these guys another matter entirely.

‘You left one of those rat tails you call hair in the editing suite upstairs,’ I told her. ‘It’s probably being analysed by the Met’s finest forensic minds as we speak. If I were you, I’d be running very fast.’

Talaith shot a sideways look at Castell. He gave the smallest shake of his head. ‘She’s lying,’ he told her. ‘And even if she isn’t, she’s been sharing a room with you for a week. She could have brought any number of hairs in here herself.’

‘If you don’t get washed, Lacey,’ said Iestyn Thomas, ‘we’ll hose you down. That always goes down well with the punters.’

Talaith had recovered from her brief moment of alarm. She leaned even further into Castell. ‘What is it about wet female flesh?’ she asked him.

‘Works for me,’ he replied, looking directly into her eyes.

‘Take the money and run,’ I said. ‘You might even get away with it. But if you kill a police officer, they’ll never stop hunting you.’

All four looked steadily down at me. None seemed even remotely moved by my threats. It wasn’t going to be that easy. I began casting my mind around the room, for any possible weapon, any place to hide.

‘Oh, we won’t kill you, Lacey,’ said Castell eventually. ‘You’ll do that yourself.’

‘You know, boys,’ said Talaith, ‘I’m not sure that scene we shot of you guys in the woods really came out that well. What do you say we go for a second take?’

‘Are you listening to me?’ I was yelling now. I could not go through that again and stay sane. ‘I told my senior officers about you lot at seven o’clock last night. They’ve had, what, twenty-four hours to put their plans in place. You psychos have got seconds, if that!’

‘Oh, I knew there was something we should have told her.’ Talaith clicked her fingers and looked up at Castell in mock annoyance before leaning over the guard rail at me again. ‘Sorry, love. That cute boyfriend of yours is dead.’

She was lying. She was an evil, manipulative bitch and lying was second nature. She had to be lying. And yet my ribcage was shrinking, squeezing everything inside it like a juicer crushes the flesh of an orange. Nick had called me earlier that day; he’d called a number that nobody knew but Joesbury. How had he done that?

‘He had an accident on the A10 last night,’ said Castell. ‘Tyres blew out. He left the road and cartwheeled down a bank.’

‘Oh, I’d love to have seen it,’ Talaith told him.

‘It was quite a sight,’ he agreed, before turning back to me. ‘He was taken to the Lister in Stevenage and pronounced dead on arrival.’

‘He phoned me last night,’ I told them, but I think I was really just reminding myself.

‘No, don’t tell lies now,’ said Thomas. ‘He sent you a text, saying he’d been delayed and that you were to sit tight and contact no one but him. I wanted to add a little personal message but John said that was going too far.’

Minutes earlier, Joesbury’s name had flashed on to the screen of the phone they’d left beside me. How could that have happened unless they had his phone? The only way they could have got my new number and given it to Nick was if they had Joesbury’s phone. I’d heard nothing from him since he’d left the evening before. Just text messages. He’d have called, surely, if he’d been OK. No. They could not be telling me the truth.

‘Would you like to reconsider the knife, Lacey?’ asked Castell.