Bryant & May 04; Ten Second Staircase

∨ Ten Second Staircase ∧

49

Immortal

He had not been expecting her to twist around so quickly and kick out at him. April’s boot caught Jezzard squarely in the face, snapping the septum in his nose in a gout of blood, sending him sprawling across the gravel. She fell hard onto the wall but was quickly on top of him, punching and tearing at his face as he screamed for her to stop.

The others moved to separate them, and were still attempting to do so as John May arrived on the roof with a team of armed officers.

♦

April sat in the passenger seat of May’s BMW with a blanket wrapped around her wet shoulders. She stared through the smeared windscreen as he started the engine and gently pulled away from the kerb.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded but remained silently watching, lost in thought. She did not speak to her grandfather until they were nearing the unit at Mornington Crescent. “You don’t have to explain,” she told him finally. “About my mother, I mean. I’ve always known what happened to her.”

“Wait – you knew?” May was astounded.

“Your pal Sergeant Renfield told me about Elizabeth when I was sixteen,” she said casually. “Remember how I used to hang around Bow Street station waiting for you? He didn’t mean to hurt me. The investigation was the talk of the Met. Officers used to go quiet when they walked past me. I never blamed you, John. But I never understood why she did it, until now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I did the same thing. I got myself more involved than I intended. There were warning signs and I ignored them. I’m my mother’s daughter.” She smiled weakly. “Bad behaviour must run in the family.”

“So this hasn’t put you off working at the unit.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s Arthur you should worry about. He doesn’t understand why a bunch of teenagers would need to create a figure like the Highwayman. He has to be made to realise why this happened.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible to explain,” said May. “Our lives are changing so quickly. Arthur grew up in a time when every crime had an underlying cause. It was a simpler world. Those boys had everything but still craved something different.” He shook his head in amazement. “God, when teenagers get together to plan something they’re really interested in, they’re smarter and more dedicated to their cause than any adult.”

“You sound like you admire them.”

“No, but I think I understand how such a thing could happen. They created a moral code appropriate to the times in which we live.”

“You’ve still got to find out who they planned to make their seventh victim. Seven in seven days, they said.”

“Surely the question is academic now,” said May.

“Gosling mentioned that others would take their place. It took four boys to be the Highwayman, but how many more are waiting for their shot at immortality? How much of an open secret was it amongst their friends? And how can you ever hope to stop it? They all want to become part of the legend.”

The rain had blackened the buildings of Camden Town. Mornington Crescent tube station, with its smartly polished crimson tiles, stood out like a beacon. The lights were on in the crescent windows of the PCU. Renfield was presumably still waiting for files that would never be printed. April opened the car door. “Are you going to come up?” she asked.

“In a minute.” May laid his head back against the seat, exhausted. He had asked Bimsley to take his partner home. Bryant had seemed confused and dislocated by his experience on the roof of the estate. He’d been happier last month, wading through sewers in the search for a murderer. The knowledge that he had inspired schoolboys to commit murder had to be weighing heavily on him.

Perhaps it really was time for both of them to retire. He only partly believed the boys’ story about seeking fast immortality. It seemed to May that they did it for fun, because the challenge had presented itself, and because they had no moral qualms about following it through.

It seemed that they did it because logic – the kind of practical sense the detectives needed so badly to survive at the unit – was finally dead.

But then May looked up at the windows of the PCU and saw his granddaughter outlined against the desk lamps. So long as there were people who still carried dreams of something better in their heads, he and Arthur had no right to desert them.

Wearily, but a little happier with the thought, he climbed out of the car and headed back into the building.