"Just a moment, just a moment." The judge scratched his head. This is a very serious offence we're talking about. This isn't a shop-lifting charge. We need to think about it very carefully."
"Sir," Alvarez interrupted, 'leave to speak to my client?"
"Oh, well." He threw his pen on the bench and leaned back, one elbow on the arm of the ornate chair. "I suppose so." He flapped a hand at her. "Go on. Go on."
At the dock Alvarez stood slightly angled away from him, one hand resting on the handrail. She looked up at Lamb with bulging eyes. "I want to offer him some security," she whispered. "Do you know anyone who could put forward something '
"I thought you said I was going to be out of here."
"You are, you are, I just didn't expect this." She bit her lip. "And look at the prosecution they didn't expect it either. Now, I need something to offer him. Do you have someone who could put some money down on your be '
"No, I fucking haven't." This was all wrong. If she wasn't bailed then Steven… he'll get out of that rope won't he? Won't he get out? But when she thought about him tugging at the flex, chewing it madly, she knew there was a chance he wouldn't. "You never said I wasn't going to be out of here."
Alvarez lowered her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Tracey, just think, please is there anyone who '
"Miss Alvarez?" The judge was getting impatient.
"Yes, sir, I'm just trying to establish if I can offer any security." She turned back to Tracey, her head bent closer. "Are you sure you can't '
"No. I just said no."
"Miss Alvarez, I don't know if anyone will be able to offer your client security, but it's academic anyway." He cleared his throat, pressing his fingers to his lips. "Because I have a feeling that Miss Lamb I have a feeling she might be tempted not to turn up for the next hearing."
"That ain't true '
"Sir!" Alvarez went quickly back to the bench. "Sir, the defendant came to court today, sir. She was perfectly aware of the seriousness of the charges, and yet she still came to court. I'm sure Miss Lamb would comply with any conditions you'd like to impose. She would be prepared to report at such times as you think appropriate. She would keep residence at her home address."
"Look," the district judge shook his head regretfully, 'it's not for me to teach you your jobs, but this is a serious offence." He shook a biro in Lamb's direction. "She's got previous convictions."
"Yes, but not related to this."
"She knows the length of sentence…" He waited for Alvarez to subside. "She knows the length of sentence were she found guilty, so." The judge made a note in the court register, leaned over to murmur something to the justice's clerk, then looked up at the court again. "So no. No." He ratcheted his body round until he was facing Lamb. "None of the conditions you could offer me would suffice. So, Miss Lamb, stand up, if you would."
She stood, eyes narrowed bitterly, chewing the gum, hating him.
"I've told you that I can't deal with this case here, and because of the nature of the case and the witnesses who might be called, I think it's safest to transfer the proceedings to somewhere where they can give video evidence if need be do you understand?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "In the meantime, because I feel there's a serious risk you might simply decide not to return to court, I'm going to remand you in custody. You can come back and see us here one week from today that's the third and we'll have another look at the situation. Thank you." He turned back to the court clerk and raised his eyebrows. "Shall we continue?"
Morning. Her arms were weak as water and there was something new: a strange wavering of the air as if the room was splitting in two. In the night Smurf had vomited up something that looked like coffee grounds in water and when Benedicte saw the flat eyes, the crusty mucus around Smurf's mouth, she knew. She put an arm around the dear old neck and pressed her lips against the ear. "Smurf, I am so sorry."
Benedicte had found Smurf twelve years ago as a shiny puppy at Battersea Dogs' Home and brought her home on a red canvas lead. She had danced around her ankles at the bus stop, rear end fishtailing from side to side with excitement, claws ticker-tackering on the pavement. Smurf made washing day hell. Every pair of socks disappeared. She liked to doggy-paddle in the sea with Josh when they went to Cornwall and since they weren't sure when she was born they gave her Valentine's Day for her official birthday. Now there was ammonia on her breath and her breathing was laboured, her lips puffing out with each breath.
"I love you, old Smurf." She lay next to the dog, and pressed her face against the velvety head, feeling the eye blink, the soft rusty smell of the fur, the rasp of the greying muzzle hairs. She kissed the dog once, just under the ear where the skin was soft and Smurf shifted slightly, sighed. She half lifted her tail and dropped a thin paw on Benedicte's bare foot.
There is no point in trying, at the end is only evil, no matter what you do, no matter how hard you work, you can't build a wall strong enough…
When she looked up, half a minute later, Smurf had stopped breathing.
Caffery woke early, before he meant to, with Alek Peach's face in his head. Rebecca was next to him, asleep. He rested his head on his arm and watched her breathing in and out, her little pixie face quite smooth and untroubled, thinking about last night and wondering if he should wake her and do it all over again. But Peach's face came back suddenly, and when he couldn't fade it or get rid of it he rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom.
Something unspeakable had happened at number thirty Donegal Crescent, and he was starting to think that Alek was the primary living victim. He forced it along his mind as he showered, had coffee, ironed a shirt. Rebecca was still asleep when he left. He didn't wake her, and regretted not kissing her all the way to Shrivemoor, but by the time he got to the incident room, it was still Alek he was thinking about.
He went through the two DCs' statements from yesterday and set their parameters for day two. "Call me for anything, OK? Absolutely anything." When they had gone he asked Kryotos to chivvy up General Registry with Peach's paper record. She had it by 11 a.m. "You ready for this?" She sat down in the SIO's room, the docket on her lap. She looked astonishingly healthy that morning, as if all the light in the room was reflecting from her skin. It made him feel even more tired. "I found out who the victim of his indecent assault was."
"Go on, then."
" Carmel Regan. His wife. She was two days short of her thirteenth birthday and he was nineteen. Her dad didn't like it, obviously, and shopped Peach. They stuck together even while he was doing time. And something else."
"Oh, God."
"Quinn got some preliminary results from the stuff in the attic'
"And?"
"They don't match Peach's profile."
"Yup. Thought that's what you were going to say." Caffery laced his hands together, rolled his head from side to side as if to get rid of a neck crick. "God," he said, after a while, scratching his neck. "Damn and fuck, Marilyn. I can't believe this is happening the wheel's coming off."
"I know. And there's more."
"More?"
"They reran the DNA tests on whoever raped Rory, and '
"Oh, no," he groaned. "Don't tell me."
"It came back the same as last time. Exactly the same. Alek Peach."
When Souness arrived at the incident room Caffery was waiting for her at the door. He'd been thinking about it. Thinking the impossible. "We need to go and see Alek Peach. I think I know what happened. And I think we should appoint a SOIT officer for him."