The Sister(185)

He laughed. ‘Oh that,’ he said, modestly, ‘was combat, Korean style!’

‘Miller?’

‘Yes?’

‘Thank you.’ With tears brimming, her lips quivered, and she bit the top one, holding herself in check. ‘This has all been such a nightmare.’

He wasn’t sure now was the time to tell her. She saw the look on his face. ‘You didn’t answer me just now. They did get him, didn’t they?’

‘Stella, there’s a police guard outside the door. They told me when they got there, Boyle was gone.’ Miller’s words took a moment to sink in.

‘Oh no, that means...’

‘Stella, he’d have to be crazy to come after us again, the police would catch him straight away.’

‘But that means it isn’t over.’ Stella’s eyes looked haunted. ‘Doesn’t it?’

The door knocked, opening simultaneously. Tanner strolled in with a female officer, and despite making a beeline for Miller, he addressed Stella without looking at her. ‘I’m sorry it couldn’t wait. We’re keen to pick this scumbag up as soon as possible. This is DI Wright,’ he said, pointing to her. ‘So if you’re up to it, we have a few questions we'd like you to answer.’

Pulling Miller to one side, he said, ‘How did you get there before we did?’

‘Well, I have to confess, I had a little help from a friend on the inside.’

‘What, working with Boyle?’

‘No, working with you – only you didn’t know it.’

‘Don’t smart-arse me, Miller. I’m not in the mood. Who was it?’

‘It was Kennedy. He showed me how to get there—’

‘You were with Kennedy. Where is he now?’

‘He disappeared after he showed me where Boyle was holding Stella. I guess he didn’t want to get involved, not until he’s sorted his mess out.’ He stopped himself short; he had a flash of the first time he ran into Kennedy at the cafe.

It was raining like Armageddon that day as well; he recalled how Kennedy disappeared. The look on the girl’s face in the café when he’d asked where Kennedy had gone. ‘Who?’ she’d said.

He examined Kennedy in his mind’s eye. Seeing him again after the reunion   dinner – in the cafe the first time – he couldn’t read him or anything else when he was near. It all began to fall into place. The DCI had shadowed Miller ever since he disappeared. It was something to do with the rain, but what, he didn’t know.

‘Miller, I haven’t got all day – who was it?’ Tanner sounded irritated.

‘I’m not sure I can tell you that at the moment, but I think I know where Kennedy is.’

‘This had better be good,’ Tanner said.

‘I think you'd better come with me, John,’ Miller said, softly.

The clues had been there all along; even the letter had spelled it out. Do not try to find me at this stage.





The following day, the local newspaper carried the headline: Missing DCI. Police identify body.

Inside the paper, the article was brief. Police confirmed the identity of a body found hanging beneath the stage in a disused basement area of a local school as being the missing DCI John Kennedy; police have ruled out foul play. The family has requested their privacy be respected at this difficult time.





Chapter 146



As soon as she heard him flaying poor Cathy, Eilise rose from her hiding place behind the sofa. In the melee a few moments before, she’d crept unseen out of her room, before he’d locked it again.

She sneaked down the stairs; every step taken painfully slow – she didn’t know exactly which one creaked. She held on to the banister and took the steps two at a time. She’d worked out it would decrease her chances of landing on the creaky step by fifty percent, plus it sped her descent.

Too late, she froze at the first tiny creak. She stabilised her weight across the step, the handrail above, lent some support, but she didn’t have the strength to prevent herself from applying more downward pressure on her foot. She shifted slowly onto the one below, realising it wasn’t the weight going onto it that triggered the sound; it was the weight coming off. The stair chose a lull in the proceedings to issue its distressed rodent-like screech.

He’d have heard that! No time to make it back upstairs – no time to get out of the front door. With the keys she’d lifted from his jeans, she would need at least a minute to unlock the door quietly. With nowhere else to hide, she tucked herself behind the swing of the cupboard door and prayed he wouldn’t find her.

The door swung back. She pressed herself flat against the wall. If the door touched her, he’d feel it. The wheeze from his exertions passed across the edge of the door in the direction of the stairs. Three breaths. She imagined his face the other side, turning then to check the front door.

Keen to get on with the business of beating Cathy, he didn’t step out into the passageway. Her lungs on the verge of bursting, a cough tickled at her throat. In a desperate effort to suppress it, she desperately sucked a glob of saliva from her dry mouth and swallowed hard.

Finally, he withdrew, shutting the door behind him. She exhaled long and slow and then with her ear to the door, listened. As the sounds of further punishment inflicted on Cathy seeped from the room, she made her escape.