Their Lost Daughters (DI Jackman & DS Evans #2)(76)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Marie had always loved the marsh evenings. The sky was a breathtaking display of colours and the misty shadows that spread across the water were otherworldly. Even the sounds were peaceful. Bird calls, the rustling of small animals in the undergrowth, and the wind making the tall reeds sway and dance.

But tonight was different. Every shadow concealed a hidden threat, and Marie sensed something dark and menacing drawing closer in the wind off the sea.

Jackman and Gary were busy checking the security status with the uniformed sergeant, and Rosie and Max were speaking to some of the foot-soldiers.

Marie walked across to a low wall that edged the garden. It looked over the wetlands and out to where the marsh met the Wash. She could see dozens of lights and a multitude of police officers silhouetted against the evening sky, all returning from their hunt for the murderer’s killing ground.

She sat down in the shadow of one of the huge old oak trees that formed a barrier between the garden and the countryside beyond, and wished that this awful case would end.

More than anything she wished they could identify Fleur.

Her phone started to play its lilting ringtone. It sounded like falling rain, reminding her of the Welsh hills.

‘I just needed to know that you are safe.’

Her mother’s voice made her smile. ‘Yes, your daughter is safe and well.’

‘And I’d like you to stay that way, sweetheart. Is it a bad time to call?’

‘It’s fine. There’s no one I’d rather have a call from, believe me.’

‘I got the feeling that your difficult case had turned into a nightmare. Am I right?’

‘Spot on, Mum. This is one I really need to see the back of.’

‘Well, I know you can’t talk about it, but I’m wondering if you’d like me to come and stay for a few days?’

‘There is nothing I’d like more, but I’m going to say no, Mum. We are so busy that I’d never see you.’

‘Then take great care, and remember that I love you.’

‘Don’t I always?’ Marie said. ‘And I love you too.’ She smiled and hung up.

Marie had very good instincts, good peripheral vision, pretty fair hand-eye coordination, and the ability to make an instant evaluation of a situation and act accordingly. In other words, she was a copper and a motorcyclist. So, when she saw the slightest flash of a reflection in the screen of her mobile as she hung up, she knew that all was not well.

Jackman was some way away talking to the uniforms, and Gary was leaning on a car and speaking into his mobile. Rosie and Max were over by the house, so she was alone. Or should have been.

Marie made a sideways dive, hopefully away from whoever was behind her.

He cannoned into her with all the force of a charging rhino. Her swift movement had unbalanced him, and they both found themselves on the ground at the base of the wall.

Micah was first up, with surprising speed, and he flung himself back at her, hands outstretched towards her throat.

She twisted away and rolled onto her side, but he grabbed and held onto her wrist. The grip was a vice locked shut.

Marie let out a cry, but his other hand went across her mouth and cut it off. She felt her teeth slice into the soft flesh inside her lips and cheek.

‘You bitch! You destroyed everything! Now let’s see how your family likes being torn apart.’

Marie was hardly able to breathe. So I’m going to die, she thought, just like that.

Then the grip slackened, gradually. The blood rushing through her veins made a roaring sound in her ears. The hand across her mouth began to shake and loosen, and she gasped.

She choked, fell away from her attacker, and looked up to see Gary wrestling him to the ground and snapping cuffs around his wrists. Micah’s face was a mask of pain and confusion. He rocked backwards and forward and moaned as if in terrible anguish.

As far as the cuffs would allow, Micah curled up into a tight ball. He dribbled and sobbed, and repeated over and over, ‘Oh no! Please, please, no!’

Gary hauled him to his feet and called to Jackman to help him. Micah was frog-marched away from her, pushed into the back of a police car and driven away. Jackman insisted that this time he would not go to Harlan Marsh Police Station.

Marie sat for a moment, getting her breath back, mopping at her bloody mouth with a handkerchief, and trying to make sense of what had just happened. Micah had been intent on killing her, but when Gary had got hold of him he’d dissolved into childlike tears. Hardly the reaction she would have expected.

‘Jesus! I think we know who our killer is, don’t you?’ said Jackman. He knelt down beside her and put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Oh, Marie, I’m so sorry. I should have stayed closer. We knew he could be out there somewhere. Are you alright?’

‘My fault,’ she croaked. ‘I asked for it. I wandered off.’ She coughed, and it felt like she had hot coals in her gullet.

Jackman gently helped her up. ‘I’ll take you straight to A&E.’

‘No hospital.’

‘You really should get checked over by a medic.’

‘Forget it, sir, you are wasting your breath.’ She gave him a pained smile, ‘And believe me, I’ve just realised how precious breath is!’

‘You have a lip that makes you look like you’ve overdosed on Botox. You may need stitches in that.’