Fifty Fifty (Detective Harriet Blue #2)(53)

‘Shouldn’t we wait for Forensics?’ Kash asked. ‘Get a carbon scan?’

‘We don’t have time,’ I said. ‘It could easily tell us what’s happening next. There was a reason it was removed so carefully.’ My heart was hammering. Watching Snale shading every millimetre of the paper was painful. She experimented, shading lighter and harder, trying to find the best pressure to reveal the pattern underneath. Lines, squares, arrows pointing and labels. A map was emerging before us. Two rows of blocks, some longer, some short, the same distance apart as they were wide.

‘It’s the main street,’ I said. ‘It’s Last Chance Valley.’





Chapter 82


WHITT SLAMMED THE piece of paper against the prison plexiglas and pointed at it.

‘Who the fuck is this?’

He wasn’t usually the type to curse, but his resolve had worn thin. Sitting with Caitlyn McBeal in a room full of people who had all but given up on the idea of ever seeing her again had pushed him over the edge. Whitt’s instinct was to bundle her up, feed her, care for her like a newborn babe.

Sam examined the paper Whitt was holding against the glass of the visitors’ centre, the EFIT image of the man who had almost killed Caitlyn. Sam glanced at Whitt, shrugged.

‘I have no idea.’

‘Enough bullshit.’ Whitt leaned forwards so that his nose was centimetres from the glass. ‘This is the guy. We’ve got him on CCTV purchasing the camera that was found in your apartment.’ He shuffled through his papers and extracted the image from the hock shop. ‘We’ve got Caitlyn saying he was desperately upset at your arrest. He’s around your age. Slim. Long arms. This guy could be your twin. Who the fuck is he?’

‘I don’t know!’ Sam pleaded. ‘I’ve been watching it all morning on the news. I’m telling you, I don’t know the guy! I have never seen him before in my life!’

Whitt let the paper slide from the glass, slumped back in his chair.

‘I don’t believe you,’ he sighed. ‘I can’t anymore. It’s not as though he would tell her you were partners for the benefit of framing you. He didn’t expect her to survive.’

‘He told her we were partners?’

‘In a roundabout way.’

Sam scratched at his neck then shook his head violently, like he was trying to clear water from his ears.

‘How did she survive?’ Sam asked.

‘She got away.’

‘Maybe he planned that.’

‘I doubt it. She killed a homeless man. She fought for her life to get out of that place. When Tox found her, she was crawling on the ground. The experts reckon she had mere days left.’

‘Look.’ Sam shifted closer to the glass. ‘I need you to keep believing in me or I’ll never get out of here.’

‘If you want to get out of here, you better keep looking at this damned picture and figure out who the hell he is.’ Whitt left the image resting face-up on the counter. He said nothing as he headed past the security guards and into the hall.

Whitt hated to admit it, but he was beginning to wonder if Sam Blue was exactly where he belonged.





Chapter 83


IT WAS A massacre plan. As the missing page emerged, my heart sank lower and lower. Before, when the diary had been mainly praise for spree killers, research into bombs and weaponry, I could underestimate the diarist’s plans for the people of Last Chance Valley. But I could see now this killer planned to make sure no one survived.

The buildings of the main street made two identical columns down the centre of the page, on the right the post office, a hardware store, a tiny cafe and a supermarket, among others. On the left, across the street from the post office, lay Snale’s tiny police station, a single-storey square with a single interrogation room, a single cell, desk space for two and the armoury. Next came the pub with its rear car park, a farming supply store and a mechanic’s, also with a wide asphalt parking lot.

Four main buildings, shoulder to shoulder, forming two identical blocks.

Around the buildings, the diarist had marked a dotted line, the path of his plan.

Step one: Kill Officer Snale in police station. Acquire weapons.

Step two: Plant device #1 in the car park behind pub. Set timer.

Step three: Take the semitrailer from the mechanic car park and use it to block off bottom of the main street, creating a U-shape to trap victims.

Step five: Plant devices #2 and #3 in semitrailer. Set timers.

Step four: Get John Destro and secure upper balcony of the post office.



Kash, Snale and I looked over the faint map, following the steps.

‘This is terrifying,’ Snale murmured. A thin sheen of sweat glistened at her hairline.

‘You’re the tactics guy,’ I told Kash. ‘What do you think?’

A brief smile flashed over his features. A truce between us, his mass-casualty expertise finally coming into play.

‘It’s a single-man operation,’ he said. ‘All the steps are sequential. There’s nothing here to indicate that there are two people acting simultaneously. Whoever he is, he’s pretty confident. Step one – taking out you, Vicky, as you man the police station. That’s no mean feat. I don’t imagine he’s just going to waltz in there and you’re going to hand him the keys to the armoury.’