‘I didn’t want this to happen.’
‘I know.’
‘It’s his fault.’
‘I know your dad was a cruel man -’
‘I’ve done those other kids a favour.’
‘The twins?’
‘And Carrie. I’ve freed them.’
‘You’re right, Ella. He was a bully and a sadist.’
‘And a fucking hypocrite. Do you know what he said to me? He said I was evil. Dirty. He said I had a black heart.’
‘He was wrong.’
‘After those guys… did what they did, I was on booze, drugs, pills, whatever I could get… I was killing myself, I… I’d vowed I would never ask for their help again. I hated him. And her.’
She shot a glance at Amelia.
‘But I was seven months gone. And I… I begged for their help. Begged them to find a home for her. Somewhere away from me. And they shut the door in my face. Told me that being raped was too good for me.’
The words shot out, fractured and bitter.
‘He looked me in the face… and said the most diabolical things and then… and then…’
‘You saw him again, didn’t you? Later on? You saw him picking up a prostitute.’
Ella turned and now her eyes were full of rage.
‘It was only a few weeks later… And they knew each other. He was a bloody regular. And then I got it – every Tuesday night for God knows how long he’d been… After everything he’d said, after everything he’d done…’
‘He lied to you, he lied to your mum.’
‘When I did him, he never even knew me. A bloody black wig and a few nose rings… but I could have been wearing my school bloody uniform with a big smile on my face. All he could think about was what he was going to get, what “Angel” would let him do to her. He was a pig and he got what he deserved.’
Helen said nothing. Amelia was growing puce now with crying, a barking cough racking her body.
‘We need to pick her up, Ella. You need to pick her up.’
Ella snapped out of it, casting a suspicious look at Helen.
‘We can’t leave her crying like this. She’s going to choke.’
The volume of Amelia’s cries rose still further, then the barking cough started up again. Ella hesitated.
‘Please, Ella – put the knife on the bed, pick up your baby and let’s all walk out together.’
Ella looked at Amelia, then at the knife in her hand. This was it then – do or die.
‘Let’s end this.’
117
Up, up, up. The Tactical Support team mounted the stairs at double speed, climbing to their vantage point on the top floor of the crumbling building. The stairs were broken and unstable and Harwood had to pick her path carefully, as she followed in their wake. Behind her she heard McAndrew put her foot through a board, cursing loudly as she did so.
‘Be quiet for God’s sake,’ Harwood hissed at her.
Before long they were in place. Looking down, Harwood could see Helen’s bike parked outside the squat opposite. Charlie had already entered it – the dossers living there had confirmed that Ella Matthews lived at the very top of the building. Across the way, Tactical Support were now in place and searching for their quarry.
‘What’ve you got?’ Harwood demanded, her nerves jangling.
‘Two females.’
‘Grace?’
‘And another.’
‘What’s happening?’
A long pause.
‘I can’t see. They are kind of locked together. It’s hard to get a good angle from here.’
‘There’s nowhere else to go, so work with it. Can you see a weapon?’
‘Negative.’
‘Can you get a clear shot?’
‘Negative.’
‘Well what the fuck can you give me?’
‘You want to be hauled up in front of the IPCC, be my guest,’ the irritated sniper replied. ‘But I can’t get a clear shot and I’m not doing anything until I can. You know better, then take over, please.’
He spat the words out without once looking up, his vision locked on the drama playing out across the road. Harwood scowled inwardly. She knew he was right but it didn’t make it any better. She had staked a lot on this investigation and it had to turn out right.
What the fuck was going on in there?
118
Helen refused to drop her gaze. Ella was virtually eyeball to eyeball with her. Helen could smell her rank breath, could feel the cold steel of the knife pressing against her leg. Still Ella refused to relinquish it.
‘Why do you want to save me, Helen?’ Ella asked suddenly.
‘Because I think you’ve been wronged. Because I think the world owes you.’
‘You think I’m good?’ A snarl came and went in her voice.
‘I know you’re good.’
Ella smiled bitterly.
‘Well then, you listen to me. I want you to know something.’
She was about to speak, then paused, distracted by a sudden squeak from the living room. A board creaking. Helen knew immediately that they had company. Charlie? Tony? Tactical Support? Helen wanted to scream at them to stay the fuck away, but she stayed stock still, not breaking eye contact, not breathing. Ella hesitated for a second, then leaned in closer.
‘I don’t regret it, Helen. Whatever I say afterwards, I want you to know. I don’t regret a single thing.’
Helen said nothing. Ella’s pupils were dilated, her breathing unsteady.
‘Those men… those hypocrites… they deserved to be exposed,’ she continued. ‘They were happy enough to flaunt their wedding rings, play the husband and father. They weren’t so happy to be seen with girls like me. Well, I changed all that. I showed them up for what they really are. Sometimes the world needs a wake-up call, right?’
She looked at Helen fiercely for a moment, then the fire seemed to die in her eyes.
‘But I want to do right by Amelia. So I’m going to trust you. Can I trust you, Helen?’
‘You have my word. I won’t let you down.’
‘Then thank you.’
Slowly she turned the knife in her hand. Gripping the blade, she held the handle up for Helen to take.
Immediately there was a sharp crack and Ella lurched sideways, crashing into the wardrobe next to her.
Helen froze for a moment, stunned. Then snapping out of it, she rushed to Ella. Even as she knelt down to help her, she could see that it was already hopeless. The bullet had entered through Ella’s temple and she was already dead.
Charlie burst in, but it was too late. Helen was cradling the killer’s corpse and on the bed, spattered with blood, her baby continued to cry.
119
Helen walked from the building, clutching Amelia to her chest. Colleagues rushed to help, photographers buzzed around her, but she didn’t see any of them. She pushed them roughly aside and carried on, keen to put as much distance as possible between her and the carnage.
People were calling to her but their voices were just noises. Her body was shaking with the trauma of what she’d just experienced, her brain playing and replaying the sharp snap of the sniper’s bullet on an endless repetitive loop. She had tried so hard to save Ella, to rescue her from the wreckage of her life. But she had failed and once more she had blood on her hands.
Passing an attending squad car, Helen caught sight of her reflection in the windscreen. She looked like a monster – crazed, dishevelled, her hair matted, her clothes stained. She now became aware of Charlie guiding her towards the paramedics, gently imploring her to seek medical assistance for herself and the baby.
She allowed herself to be helped into the ambulance, but once there she refused to cooperate. Despite the best endeavours of the paramedics, Helen would not relinquish her grip on Amelia, who had calmed now and clung to Helen with her tiny, delicate hands. Licking her thumb, Helen began to wipe the blood from the child’s face. The baby smiled at the contact, as if enjoying being tickled. Helen could hear the others talking around her. They assumed she was in shock, that she wasn’t thinking straight, but they were wrong – she knew exactly what she was doing. Whilst Amelia was in Helen’s arms, nothing could happen to her. For a brief moment at least, she would be safe from a dark and unforgiving world.