‘On it. I’ll call you when I have news.’
Climbing the stairs to Jake’s flat, Helen felt a mixture of panic and relief. Relief at seeing him, but also anxiety at the darkness rising within her. Strong as she was there were always moments when it took her. The world was full of viciousness and sometimes she was thrust right back to a time when she was the world’s punch bag, when she and her sister had taken the sins of the world upon their shoulders. She was jumpy now, unable to contain the panic spiking inside her, the feeling that any minute, she would be back there in that room.
Jake wanted to hold her, but she wouldn’t let him. She chained herself up without being asked and told him to get on with it. She knew she was being rude and aggressive, but she needed this badly.
‘Now.’
Jake hesitated.
‘Please.’
Then he relented. Taking a medium-sized crop from his armoury, he raised his arm and brought it down firmly on her naked back.
‘Again.’
He raised it again. This time he wasn’t so reluctant – he could feel the charge flowing out of Helen’s body, as her anxiety escaped. He brought the crop down again, then again, his excitement rising as the rhythm of the beating took hold. Helen was moaning now, demanding more pain. Jake gave it to her… faster and faster.
Eventually the beating slowed as Helen relaxed and before long everything was calm once more.
Helen relished this moment of stillness. Her life had been so fraught, so out of control, but whatever happened now, she could always come here. Jake was still the fix she needed when she was ambushed by the darkness. She didn’t love him, but she needed him. Perhaps that was the first step on the road.
She was lucky. She had found someone. Ella hadn’t. She had been the plaything of men who enjoyed controlling and abusing women. First her father with his taste for violence, sadism and cruelty. Then a group of men who took pleasure from imprisoning and torturing a vulnerable young woman. She had been left brutalized and pregnant. A single woman bringing up a child of rape.
Unbidden, Robert popped into her brain. And alongside him, as always, thoughts of Marianne.
107
It is amazing how calm you are when you know the end is near. Since she had made her decision, Ella had felt elated. She giggled, sang songs to Amelia, behaved like a dizzy child. The rage still lurked within her, seeking a chance to escape and reassert itself, but this morning she didn’t need it.
She had lifted some smart baby clothes from Boots a few days earlier. She was pleased she had done so now. She wanted Amelia to be looking nice when they found her. Since she had delivered Amelia, alone and uncared for in this dirty flat, she had never known what to feel for her. She was the price of her sin, a present from her rapists, reminding her of the callousness of the world. Her first instinct had been to smother the screaming bundle. She had gone to do it, but… the girl looked just like her. Her attackers had been dark-skinned, with heavy stubble and black hair. Amelia was blonde, with a cute button nose.
Her next thought had been to ignore the baby, to punish it for its existence by deliberately starving it of food. But then she’d felt the milk seeping from her breasts and knew that something bigger than herself was at play here. So she’d fed the baby. Occasionally she would brush her nipple against the baby’s mouth, then withdraw it, goading the baby with its unfulfilled hunger. But after a while even that seemed cruel and stupid and she’d fed the baby willingly. She found she was happy when she breastfed, nourishing the small child, and for those brief moments when they were joined together, she could forget the other stuff, the violence, the hypocrisy, the rage. One day she realized that she didn’t want the baby to suffer, that she wanted to protect it. So when she went out at night, she slipped some Night Nurse into her formula. This kept her slumbering happily until her mother returned.
Sadness pulsed through her heart, but she shook it off. She was committed to this path, so no point having regrets. The pills were waiting for her in the kitchen. All she had to do was get some formula and then she would be ready.
There was no backing out now.
108
The two women stared at each other, refusing to back down. Harwood had been in full spate, castigating Charlie for her irresponsibility, when Charlie had thrown in her bombshell. She was resigning from the Force with immediate effect.
Harwood, with that effortless ease that ambitious people possess, paused momentarily then just steamrollered on. She refused to accept Charlie’s resignation. She would give her time to reconsider, to pull back from the very serious mistake she was making, in order to fulfil her destiny within the Force. Charlie wondered if Harwood had promised the Police Commissioner that she would step into Helen’s shoes and that their very high-profile investigation wouldn’t suffer as a result of Helen’s abrupt departure.
‘Charlie, we need you. The team needs you,’ Harwood continued, ‘so I’m going to ask you to swallow this for now.’
‘I can’t. I’ve given my word.’
‘I understand that but perhaps if I met with Steve? I know he had a problem with Helen, but she’s not a factor any more.’
‘She is to me. Which is all the more reason why -’
‘I appreciate loyalty, I really do, but you don’t seem to be seeing the bigger picture. We are about to bring this killer in and I need every available body on the case. We need to bring this to a close. For the good of everybody.’
For the good of your career, Charlie thought, but said nothing.
‘At the very least I would expect you to work your notice period. You know how funny HR can be about pensions and so on when people break the terms of their contract. Do that for me at least and help us see this thing to a close.’
Charlie capitulated shortly afterwards. The truth was she did feel bad about deserting Sanderson, McAndrew and the rest at this crucial time. Nevertheless it felt profoundly odd as she took her place in the incident room. Without Helen things were very different.
Sanderson had brought Harwood up to speed. The latter was now briefing the team, but Charlie had zoned out, boringly aware of the protocols Harwood would employ. They hadn’t traced Ella yet, but it was only a matter of time now – they had too much on her. Harwood was getting to the point and Charlie snapped out of it as her new boss finally bared her teeth.
‘Priority is to bring Ella Matthews in as quickly and cleanly as possible,’ Harwood announced. ‘She is a multiple murderer who will kill again and again unless stopped. I have therefore asked for and obtained an emergency court order allowing the use of deadly force in her apprehension. Tactical Support are mobilized and will step up if required.’
Charlie shot a look at the team, who looked surprised and uncomfortable, but Harwood carried on regardless:
We have one simple task now. And that is to bring Ella Matthews in. Dead or alive.’
109
She had approached the house with extreme caution and was surprised – and alarmed – to find that it wasn’t necessary. The press pack had inexplicably deserted Robert’s house. Calm had returned to this quiet cul-de-sac, but it was a mournful silence – the modest detached house looked lonely and desolate as the rain swept over it.
Helen stood still, getting more saturated with every passing second, as she debated what to do. Desperate to see for herself what Robert was going through, she had come to Cole Avenue in silent pilgrimage, but it was obvious now that something had happened. Something had driven the clambering hacks away.