Dangerous Promises (35 page)

‘Fascinating?’ she replied mockingly. ‘I doubt that very much.’

‘All right, then. Let’s call it a loose end – one of many when it comes to Sadie Wise. Now you can’t blame me for wondering why —’

‘You’re seeing mystery where there isn’t any,’ she interrupted sharply. ‘It’s quite straightforward really.’

Royston scratched at his chin while he scrutinised her. ‘Is it?’

‘Very,’ she said. Mona gave a sigh and lifted her eyes to the heavens again. ‘Haven’t you ever got tired of who you are, wanted a change? It’s just a bit of fun, a chance to escape and be someone different for a while.’

But Royston wasn’t buying it. ‘And Sadie’s happy to go along with this charade?’

‘Why not? It’s not harming anyone.’

‘A bit careless, though, signing into the hotel under your own name.’

Mona gave a snort of derision. ‘It would only be careless if I was trying to hide something.’

‘I just can’t see the point of it, that’s all.’

‘Okay, I’ll explain, but not here. Let’s go somewhere quieter.’

As she started to walk again, Royston fell in beside her. She was playing for time, he thought, trying to come up with a more convincing explanation. ‘So, you’re Paul Farrell’s daughter,’ he said as they veered away from the rides and headed towards the far end of the fair.

Mona said nothing.

‘I hear he might be expecting good news in the New Year.’

Again she said nothing.

‘So you and Sadie: how long have you —’

Mona finally broke her silence. ‘God, don’t you ever get tired of interfering in other people’s business?’

‘Not really. It’s only tiresome when other people lie to you.’

‘And you think that’s what I’m doing?’

‘I have no idea,’ he said. ‘You haven’t really told me anything yet, at least nothing substantial. How can I draw any conclusions before I’ve got the facts?’

‘Somehow I can’t imagine a few facts getting in the way of a good story.’

‘Is it?’

‘Is it what?’

‘A good story,’ he said.

While she walked Mona raised the plastic cup to her lips and blew across the surface of the coffee before taking a few fast sips. ‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s a very boring one.’

Gradually they were leaving the crowds behind and moving into the less populated part of the fairground. The noise levels began to drop, distant rattles merging with the tinkling of the music. They left the bright lights and moved into the gloom. Eventually they reached a perimeter wall where there was nothing more than a few shabby caravans, a scattering of metal and some long coiling cables that snaked back towards the centre of the fair.

‘So,’ she said, turning to look at him. ‘What’s on your mind exactly?’

‘You were going to explain why you’re using a false name.’

‘Why not? If you were Paul Farrell’s daughter, you’d hardly want to advertise the fact. I like to be my own person. It’s easier that way.’

‘You don’t get on?’

‘You could say that.’

‘Does he know you’re here?’

Mona scowled at him again. ‘I’m twenty-three. It’s none of his business where I am or what I do.’

Royston decided to go for it. Some opportunities only came around once in a lifetime and you had to grab them with both hands. ‘Oh, come on. You might have fooled the rest of them but you don’t fool me.’

Her eyes widened a little. ‘I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.’

‘Sure you do. You’re up to your necks in it, you and Sadie. Why else are you in Haverlea?’ Royston had no real idea where he was going with this; he was just following his instincts and hoping she’d believe he was more in the loop than he actually was. ‘I know all about Eddie Wise.’

Mona visibly flinched, but then quickly shook her head. ‘Eddie? What about him? You’ve lost me.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘And how do you figure that out?’

Royston had Emily Hunter’s party in the back of his mind, where Mona had been talking about fairgrounds and films. There was something niggling, a possible connection he still couldn’t grasp. ‘It’s obvious,’ he said. ‘Do I need to spell it out for you?’

‘You don’t know anything,’ she said smugly.

‘Anne Faulkner,’ he retorted quickly. ‘Now where have I heard that name before?’

Mona’s expression showed that he’d hit home. The smile that had been playing on her lips immediately disappeared. ‘You’re just pathetic, a grubby little journalist with a sewer for brains.’

‘Sometimes you need a sewer when you’re dealing with shit.’

She came up close to him, her eyes blazing. ‘You’re disgusting. You know that?’

‘I might be disgusting but at least I’m not —’

Royston never got the chance to finish his retort. Although aware of the sudden action, of the girl drawing back her arm, it was too late to dodge out of the way. As the hot coffee splashed all over his face he squealed out in pain.

‘Bitch!’ he yelped. ‘Fuckin’ bitch!’

With his eyes tightly closed he reeled back and stumbled, falling to his knees. He bent his head and covered his face with his hands, clawing at the burning flesh. He couldn’t see, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. The crazy bitch had blinded him! Frantically, he tried to rub off the hot liquid. He needed cold water. Where was the water? He needed…

Royston was in too much agony to register the movement behind him. Beyond the sound of his own groans, his own agonising pain, nothing else existed. The blow, when it came, sent him sprawling across the concrete. With his nose pressed against the ground, he was faintly aware of the sweet smell of popcorn. A thumping raged inside his head and then there was only blackness.

47

It was a quarter to eight when Sadie arrived at the fair. She stopped by the turnstile, almost having second thoughts, but then a group of girls came up behind her and she had no choice but to push on through. Instantly she was aware of stepping into a different world. Gone was the calm, quiet order of the promenade, replaced by an almost physical assault on the senses, a swirling world of colour, sound and movement. Even the air smelled different.

She passed a candyfloss stall, the floss like sweet pink cotton wool, and walked on to the carousel with its distinctive barrel-organ music. The ride, probably viewed as too childish by the predominantly teenage crowd, was almost empty. There was something eerie about the painted horses going round on their own, their wide eyes staring into the dark. She gazed at them for a while, remembering the part in
Strangers on a Train
where Bruno rides on the carousel, watching his intended victim.

Sadie shuddered and turned away. She didn’t want to think about it, but suddenly it was all she could think about. Bruno had gone on to commit murder, to put his hands around Miriam’s throat and squeeze the life out of her. Bruno had been mad, sick in the head, obsessed with death – or, to be more precise, the death of his father. Just like Mona, she thought. It wasn’t hard to see why the girl identified so closely with the character.

As she walked on, Sadie breathed in the cool night air. Her heart was already starting to beat faster. How would Mona react when she told her straight that she wasn’t going to do it? There would be no journey to Hampstead, no hiding in the garden, no shooting of her father. And anyway, there was no longer a gun to do the shooting with.

Her thoughts took a sideways shift as she wondered again if Nathan Stone had got rid of the Beretta. Her fingerprints must be all over it. But he’d wipe it clean first, wouldn’t he? Just in case it was found. She was relying on him, but that might not be the smartest move. Still, there was nothing she could do about it now.

Sadie went past the Hall of Mirrors where groups of girls nervously giggled at their distorted reflections – fat, thin, tall, small – while probably adding to whatever neuroses they already had about their body shape. She could clearly recall hanging around the fair when she was younger, wanting to be cool but knowing that she wasn’t. She’d always had the wrong clothes, the wrong face, the wrong attitude. She’d been awkward and defensive, uncomfortable in her own skin. The boys’ eyes would roam over her, linger for a second and then quickly move on.

Sadie felt a rush of sympathy for that somewhat tragic adolescent version of herself. It was only when she’d gone to London that she’d found her confidence. Suddenly she was no longer a shy, cautious girl afraid of her own shadows; she had blossomed into someone who actually believed in herself. And then she’d met Eddie…

The thought dragged her back to the present. In her head, she went over what she was going to say to Mona. She had to be firm, determined. She had to hold her ground. And if Mona threatened to tell Joel or go to the police? Then she had to call her bluff – and act as though she meant it.

The Big Wheel loomed over the fair, a glittering circle of flashing lights. As she approached, Sadie looked around for Mona but couldn’t spot her. She glanced down at her watch and saw that it was now five to eight. She was early but only just. While she waited she tried to prepare herself. The problem was that it all felt so hopeless. Nothing could change what had already happened; Eddie’s murder couldn’t be undone and it would haunt her for the rest of her life.

The minutes ticked by. Eight o’clock came and went and there was still no sign of Mona. Sadie began to pace impatiently; now she was here she wanted it over and done with. Where was she? What was she playing at? Maybe she’d changed her mind, but somehow that didn’t seem likely. She wouldn’t have come all the way to Haverlea to back out at the last moment.

While Sadie stood waiting, she gradually became aware of a disturbance. As if pulled by an invisible force, people were starting to drift towards the far end of the fair. A murmur was passing quickly through the crowd, a ripple of excitement. She stood on her toes, trying to see what was happening, but her view was blocked by the wall of spectators.

A group of uniformed police officers came striding down the central path and Sadie shrank back at the sight of them. For one terrifying second she thought they were coming for her, that Mona had confessed everything and set her up for an easy arrest. She heaved a sigh of relief as they passed straight by.

A couple of girls came sauntering over from the direction of the crowd and stopped by the Big Wheel to gaze up at the lights.

‘Excuse me,’ Sadie said. ‘I don’t suppose you know what’s going on over there, do you?’

The older of the two – they looked like sisters – shifted a wad of chewing gum from one cheek to the other. ‘It’s some old bloke. Reckon he’s collapsed or whatever.’ There was a hint of disappointment in her voice as if she’d been hoping for something more dramatic. ‘We couldn’t see properly, mind. There were too many people in the way.’

‘Oh, right,’ Sadie said. ‘Thanks. I was just wondering.’

The girls walked on and Sadie continued to look around. It occurred to her that Mona might have spotted the police on her way in. Had she turned tail and fled, afraid that she was walking into a trap? It was possible. She could have had the same knee-jerk reaction as herself, and if that was the case then there was no chance of her turning up.

Sadie glanced at her watch again, wondering how much longer she should wait. Five more minutes, she decided, and that was it. There was no point hanging around in the cold if Mona wasn’t going to show. She gazed in the direction of the crowd again. Even though she knew the police hadn’t come for her, their presence still made her feel jumpy. That was the problem with having a guilty conscience.

An ambulance crew hurried past, carrying a stretcher. For Sadie, the atmosphere of the fair had changed now, its former frivolity overlain by a darker note. She felt a thin shiver run through her. No, she wasn’t going to wait any longer. Mona had said eight o’clock and it was now twenty past. She turned away from the wheel and headed for the exit.

As she walked, Sadie glanced over her shoulder a few times, half hoping, half dreading that she would spot the familiar black spiky hair. The courageous part of her wanted to get the confrontation over and done with, but the more cowardly part was relieved at the reprieve. She took one final look round before passing through the turnstile and on to the promenade.

An ambulance was parked up by the gates along with a couple of panda cars. Sadie lowered her head and dodged round them. As she cut down towards the town, she wondered if Mona was staying at the Bold again. She slowed, debating whether to retrace her steps, return to the promenade and ask at the hotel, but decided against it. If Mona had been spooked she wouldn’t hang around; she’d get out of Haverlea as fast as she could. Anyway, all Sadie wanted to do now was to get back to the relative safety of the flat.

It began to drizzle as she drew closer to home, thin spits of rain that settled on her head and shoulders. She picked up the pace as she turned the corner into Buckingham Road. It crossed her mind that Mona might be waiting for her at the house, but she instantly dismissed the idea. No, if the police had scared her off at the fairground then she’d hardly show her face here.

Still, Sadie kept her eyes peeled as she drew closer. She was so focused on number 67 that she took no notice at all of the white van that was parked a few yards from the gate. And that, as it turned out, was a big mistake. The side door of the vehicle slid quickly open as she drew adjacent to it and two women jumped out. They hurled themselves at her, grabbing her arms. Taken by surprise, Sadie only registered a flash of blonde hair, a hissing of breath, before she was bundled into the back of the van.

There was no time to shout or scream. It was over in seconds. Her first instinct was to struggle, to try and fight, but her efforts were useless. Quickly she was thrown to the floor and pinned down by a third assailant. He straddled her back, sitting heavily on the base of her spine. He grabbed her hair and yanked back her head. As he leaned forward she could feel his hot angry breath on the back of her neck.

‘It’s over, bitch! It’s payback time.’

Sadie felt her blood run cold as she realised who it was.

48