I See You(111)

As I find my balance I hear the distant wail of sirens. I wait for them to die away but they grow louder, more insistent, until they hurt my ears. I hear shouting, then a crash that echoes through the house.

‘Police!’ I hear. ‘Stay where you are!’

I stay where I am. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to.

There’s a thunderous noise in the hall, and an almighty bang as the kitchen door flies open and hits the wall behind it.

‘Hands in the air!’ one of them shouts. I’m just thinking how ridiculous it is to expect Melissa to do that, when she is clearly incapacitated, when I realise they mean me. Slowly, I raise my hands. They are covered in blood, which has streaked across my arms, and my clothes are stained dark red.

The officers wear dark boiler suits and helmets with visors down and POLICE in white letters on the side. There are two at first, swiftly followed by another pair who arrive in response to the first’s clear command.

‘Support!’

The first two approach me, stopping several feet in front of me. The other pair move rapidly around the room, shouting instructions to each other. Elsewhere in the house I hear more police moving around. The sound of running feet is interspersed with cries of ‘Room clear!’ which drift down into the room in which we stand.

‘Medic!’ someone shouts. Two new officers push through and run to where Melissa is lying on the floor. One of them presses their hands against the wound in her neck. I don’t understand why they’re trying to save her life. Don’t they know? Don’t they know what she’s done? It is a pointless endeavour anyway; the life has long since left her.

‘Zoe Walker?’ It is one of the two police officers in front of me who says my name, but their helmets mean I can’t tell which one is speaking. I look from one to the other. They have positioned themselves two metres or so apart, so that as I look forward one is at ten o’clock, the other at two. In every respect they are mirror images of each other; one foot slightly forward, their hands above their waists and open-palmed; non-threatening, but ready for action. Behind them I see the medics kneeling beside Melissa. They have laid a clear plastic guard across her face and one of them is pushing measured breaths into her mouth.

‘Yes,’ I say eventually.

‘Drop the weapon.’

They’ve got it all wrong. It was Melissa who had the knife; Melissa who held the blade to my throat until the skin split. I take a step forward.

‘Drop the weapon!’ the police officer says again, louder this time. I follow his gaze, looking up to my right hand, where the silver blade gleams through its coating of blood. My fingers snap open of their own accord, as though they have only just become aware of their contents, and the knife skitters across the floor. One of the officers kicks it further away from my reach, then pushes up the visor on his helmet. He looks practically as young as my children.

I find my voice. ‘My daughter’s in danger. I need to get to Leicester Square – will you take me?’ My teeth are chattering and I bite my tongue. More blood; my own, this time. The officer looks to his colleague, who lifts his own visor. He is much older, a grey beard neatly trimmed beneath kind eyes that crinkle at the corners as he reassures me.

‘Katie’s fine. She was intercepted by one of our officers.’

The rest of my body begins to shake.

‘There’s an ambulance on its way – they’ll take you to hospital and get you sorted out, okay?’ He looks at his young colleague.

‘Shock,’ he explains, but it isn’t shock I feel, it’s relief. I look beyond the officers. A paramedic is kneeling beside Melissa, but he isn’t touching her, he’s writing something down.

‘Is she dead?’ I don’t want to leave this room until I know for sure. The paramedic looks up.

‘Yes.’

‘Thank God.’





40


‘Not much of a celebration,’ Lucinda said, looking at the packet of peanuts Nick had torn open and put in the middle of the table.

‘I’m sorry it’s not up to your usual standards, your ladyship,’ Nick said. ‘I’m not sure the Dog and Trumpet does caviar and quail’s eggs, but I can see what’s on the specials board, if you like?’

‘Ha ha. I didn’t mean that. I just feel a bit flat, you know?’

‘I feel the same,’ Kelly said. It had been so frantic; the drive on blues and twos to get to Katie Walker, followed immediately by the race to reach Zoe, marked police cars screaming to a halt outside Melissa’s house. The ambulance had held off at the end of Anerley Road; the waiting paramedics unable to do their job until it was safe to enter. For the last few hours Kelly doubted her heart rate had dropped below a hundred beats a minute, but now she was crashing.

‘It’s just an anticlimax, that’s all,’ Nick said. ‘You’ll bounce back tomorrow, when the hard work really starts.’

There was a huge amount to do. With access to Melissa’s computer, Cyber Crime had been able to swiftly shut down findtheone.com, and access the full list of members. Tracing them – and establishing what, if any, crimes had been committed – would take somewhat longer.

Companies House checks had revealed that Melissa West was the registered director of four cafés in London; Melissa, Melissa Too, Espress Oh! and an as yet unnamed business in the heart of Clerkenwell, banking impressive profits despite the absence of sink, fridge or cooking facilities.