Eeny Meeny

117

Through the driving rain, Charlie glimpsed two figures. A man leading a woman away from the tower. Charlie had never been a religious woman, but she’d been praying for the last ten minutes, hoping against hope for a miracle. And now she would have her answer.

Pushing the attending paramedic aside, she rushed forward. She only made ten yards before her legs gave way. She fell to her knees on the sodden ground. Shielding her eyes from the rain, she strained to see through the gloom – was Bridges helping the woman or restraining her?

Then suddenly the sun broke through and for a moment the gloom lifted.

It was Helen. She had survived. Already the paramedics were rushing to her, her colleagues surrounding her. But she pushed them away. Charlie called out to her, but Helen walked past without hearing.

Shrugging off Bridges, Detective Inspector Helen Grace walked alone through the rain. It was over. She was alive. But she hadn’t won. Her ordeal was only just beginning. For as Marianne knew only too well, there is no peace for those that shed the blood of those closest to them. It was Helen’s turn to live with that stain now.