LAST RITES

‘I could learn from you,’ he said, as he got alongside her. ‘Menace with a smile.’

Laura sighed. ‘I let myself down,’ she replied.

Pete laughed and waved it away. ‘No, it was fun.’

As they walked along the corridor from the custody area, Laura heard laughter ahead. She guessed what was coming even before Carson appeared in the doorway, a few members of his team just behind him, sharing the joke.

They went quiet as Pete approached them, although the smiles remained. As Carson went past, Pete nodded and said, ‘Afternoon, sir’, more out of obligation than respect. Carson didn't respond. Instead, he looked down at Laura, before raising what should have been eyebrows at his team.

Laura looked down and took a deep breath, not yet ready for formalities. As their footsteps receded, she glanced back. One of Carson's men looked back towards her at the same time. He was dressed differently to the rest, in a dark polo shirt and casual trousers, bulky pockets on his thighs. As Laura looked, he smiled and nodded.

‘If ever you need a reason not to get promoted, there's a few to choose from there,’ said Pete.

Laura didn't respond at first. Instead, she walked on ahead, stopping only when she was back at her desk, holding another handover package.

‘C'mon,’ she said quietly. ‘There's another cell to empty.’

Chapter Fifteen (#ulink_7fd60f13-9474-5dee-8a2d-2a61170c79f7)

It was cold, and getting colder. Sarah Goode walked quickly around the room, her arms wrapped around her chest as she tried to keep warm, but it was no protection for her naked body. Her skin was pale and goose-pimpled, and she dreaded the thought of the night ahead. When she looked down, she saw how dirty her feet were, made grubby as she walked around, the soles of her feet numb, the soil floor turned to mud by the hose-blast from earlier.

She knew she had to stay strong, but she was cold and she was hungry. Her primal instincts took over, her need for food and warmth and sleep.

The pulsing heartbeat still reverberated around the room. She tried to walk in time to it, to use it as a distraction, to get some strength from it, but every time she got close to the speakers she had to clamp her hands over her ears.

Then the noise stopped.

Sarah went still, listened out for a noise, some hint at what was to come. And then the lights went off.

It was dark and silent for a few blissful seconds, but then she saw a sliver of light under the door. Someone was there. She heard the click of the lock, and, as the door slid open, someone holding a bright torch stepped into the room. All she could see was the light. She looked away and her vision swam with bright speckles.

Sarah shielded her eyes with her arm. ‘Who's there?’ she shouted. Maybe it was someone come to rescue her. ‘Please, who is it?’

The same voice she had heard before answered.

‘Have you thought any more?’ he asked, his loud whisper filled with menace. He walked into the room and started to circle her, the torch beam constantly shining into her face, blinding her.

Sarah tried to move her face away, but the light was too direct. She tracked him, not letting him get behind her. ‘I don't know what you mean?’ she said, her voice filled with desperation.

‘We talked about it before,’ he said. ‘Your future. What awaits you?’

Sarah shook her head. She tried to see behind the torch but it was too bright. ‘I don't know, you tell me,’ she said, and then she started to cry. ‘I don't know what you want.’

‘Don't be scared,’ came the reply, followed by a low chuckle. He was enjoying this. ‘Consequences, Sarah,’ he said. ‘That's all you are interested in. Fear of them. They hold you back.’

Sarah sank to her knees. ‘I don't know what you mean,’ she wailed, but then she scuttled backwards as she heard his steps in the dirt floor, coming towards her, slow and deliberate.

‘Your time is running out,’ he said as he got closer. ‘I am not your enemy. Fear is your enemy.’ And then he laughed again, this time low and mean.

Her head hung down and she dug her hands into the mud, cold between her fingers. ‘Please, please, please,’ she sobbed. ‘Let me go. I won't say anything. Just let me go home. Please.’

He paused, and then said, ‘That's a lie, and it's wrong to tell lies.’

Sarah looked up, sucked in air, tried to calm herself down. ‘I can't do this,’ she said. ‘I don't know what game you are playing, but I don't want to play any more.’

‘It's no game,’ he said. ‘I want to see what you see, that's all, just that moment.’

‘What moment?’

‘The final moment,’ he answered, his voice turned into a growl. ‘It's unique, that glimpse, when you know what lies ahead, the answer to everything. The final look back on yourself, and that last look into the future. Is there life beyond what we know?’

‘So I'm going to die?’

He laughed. ‘We're all going to die, Sarah.’

Sarah put her face in her hands. ‘What about Luke?’ she said quietly. ‘He'll tell the police.’

He laughed again, but louder.

‘What's so funny?’ asked Sarah, but she felt her stomach turn as she guessed what he'd done. She put her arms over her head and leaned forward, so that her forehead touched the soil. It was cold on her face, and images of Luke flashed through her mind. Smiles, laughs, good times, all rushing into her head. She started to tap her head lightly against the soil. Then she got faster, and her moans turned into screeches, the pain as she banged her head a distraction, until she was rocking up and down, her arms clasped around her body.

She looked up at him. ‘You've killed him,’ she screamed. ‘You fucking monster!’

He knelt down so that the hood was next to her face. ‘He didn't come to help you, did he?’ he mocked. ‘He stayed in bed as we took you to the car. What was it? Drunk? Or just not bothered?’

Tears streamed down her face. She clutched her stomach, his words making her want to retch.

‘Maybe he thought it was you running up the stairs,’ he continued. ‘He was still under the sheets when I ran in there.’

When Sarah didn't respond, he leaned into her ear and whispered, ‘Would you like to kill me? Right now, if you had the weapon, would you do it?’

Sarah didn't answer.

‘You could do it, right now. Your hands around my neck. I would fall over, you would overpower me.’

Sarah stayed silent, but as she felt his eyes on her, even through the cloth, she spat at him.

He wiped off her spittle. ‘You see,’ he said, ‘there's not much that separates us. Just my courage, and your cowardice.’

He stood up and left the room. And as the door slammed shut, the lights came back on, and the sound of the heartbeat returned, louder this time.

Chapter Sixteen (#ulink_36705aa3-4de1-5356-aab2-36a7e79aa0c3)

Bobby was playing on the floor as I browsed the internet, looking for information on Sarah Goode. He was talking to himself, soft chirrups, all part of his game. I liked the distraction. I worked better with a background sound, much different to the hush of Blackley Library.

The library had been my first stop after leaving Katie, to get copies of the stories written about Sarah. It was a long Victorian building, an old workhouse, with stained glass and arched doorways, incongruous among the glass shop-fronts further along the street, where bored sales assistants stared out of the windows and fiddled with their necklaces, the lunchtime rush long gone.

I was able to spend an hour making copies of the articles that had been written about Sarah, and now they were spread across the table. They all had the same theme: a pretty young teacher had killed a boy and run away. It wasn't explicit, but all week long there had been tributes to Luke, about what a nice young man he had been, sporty, outgoing, good looking. The comments about Sarah were different, tinged with surprise, at how a popular young teacher, vibrant and pretty, could kill someone.