Dying Eyes (27 page)

“Don’t you tell me what I do or don’t have to do, Detective,” he shouted, before throwing the empty canister towards the door. “Don’t you dare. I loved Nicola. I loved her, and I’m so sorry.” Tears streamed down his cheeks as his eyes turned red and bloodshot. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a matchbox.

“Whoa, whoa!” Brian’s chest tightened. Luther disregarded his cries and struck a match against the box. “Please. I have a kid. Please. I’ve done so many bad things, too, and I’ve not been there for him. I’m supposed to be seeing him soon. Please, Robert. We’ll go. We’ll walk out of here. You can go. Just, please. Give me another chance. I don’t want to die anymore!” Brian squeezed his eyes shut. Thoughts of Davey and Vanessa and Cassy flashed through in front of his eyelids.

Cassy
. What a lovely partner. He’d never have the chance to tell her how highly he thought of her. A lump grew in his throat as his entire body tightened.

Robert looked on in pity, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry. I really am sorry for all of this and for the inconvenience it has caused you. I pass on my best to‌–‌”

The door smashed open. Everything else happened in slow motion.

Cassy barged through into the room.

Robert swung round as she pelted towards him.

The match slipped to the floor, and Robert went up in flames.

Brian gritted his teeth and stared at a horrified Cassy as he waited for the fire to approach. He saw his leg on fire before he had the chance to process the pain.

When the pain did hit, he screamed like a pig in an abattoir. Then, everything drifted away again, as the searing worked its way up his body and enveloped him like a hot blanket of water.

Chapter Thirty Six

Cries around him. Something tugging at his leg.

“Get out of here!”

Then a crack. His hands were free, but a different sort of resistance bound them. His feet‌–‌they were still stuck. Cassy leaned over them, battling with the flames to untangle his ankles. No‌–‌she should go. He tried to shout, but his throat burned with the smoke and the fumes.

Go…‌go…

A beeping echoed around his head. A chill in the air as he took a deep breath through his nostrils and out through his mouth. Where was he?

He opened his eyes. The familiar white tiles of the wall, the heart rate monitor next to him. He must’ve been visiting Davey and got in a hospital bed, or‌–‌

No. Luther. The flames. Cassy untying his feet.

The bleeps of the heart rate monitor increased in pace.

The door opened at the other side of the room. The nurse to whom Brian had spoken about Davey stood there, notepad in hand. She stepped over to the side of his bed with a large, sympathetic smile.

“Mr. McDone,” she said. “Welcome back to the world. Didn’t expect to be seeing you again so soon.”

Brian winced as a searing pain shot through his body. White bandages wrapped his left leg, padding spread across his chest.

“How long have I‌–‌”

“A few hours,” she said, smiling again. “You just focus on relaxing right now, and we’ll have someone in to explain everything shortly.”

Brian’s chest stung with hot pain, as if flames still covered him. “Wait.”

The nurse stopped at the door and turned around. She wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Please, the least you can do is just tell me…‌things are okay. My friend‌–‌she helped me out. Is she okay?”

The nurse half-smiled and turned back to the door. “Detective Inspector Price is on his way to visit you. We’ve got someone else to see you now, though.”

The nurse whispered to somebody outside. Then Vanessa walked in, hand in hand with Davey, his tongue sticking out.

“Hello you!” Brian tried to sit upright. “Look at you, on your feet again.”

Davey ran over to him and wrapped his one good arm around Brian’s arm. He winced with the pain, but it didn’t matter. Davey was here. He was okay.

Davey pulled back. He had a sling on his arm and a “Brave Boy” sticker on the front of his coat.

“You’re okay to be up and about right now, aren’t you, lad?” Brian looked up at Vanessa for approval. From the redness in her eyes and the twitching of her eyelids, she had been crying.

“Nurse said I could come see you. Daddy, did the monsters beat you?” His face was curious, his eyes blinking rapidly.

Brian laughed. “No, Davey. I told you, the monsters
never
beat me.” He rested his hand on the back of Davey’s head again and planted a dry-lipped kiss on his short hair.

Vanessa rubbed her arms. “You…‌What happened, Brian? What‌–‌” She broke eye contact and gritted her teeth, her eyes welling up.

“You two don’t have to worry about anything anymore. I’ve finished fighting the monsters for now.”

“You said that last night.”

“I mean it today.” He smiled at Vanessa.

The nurse appeared at the door again as Davey showed off the multicoloured cast on his arm.

“I think you’d better let your dad have some rest, young man.” The nurse brushed her hands through Davey’s hair. “Mr. McDone, DI Price is here to see you.”

Price.
He’d been wrong to force him into stepping down. Now that Brian saw the truth, Price would be able to acknowledge what BetterLives had been covering up as an institution. He had a chance to make things right again. The press could try to spin it whichever way they fancied, but it wouldn’t be enough. He and Price, they could handle this together.

Brian gave Davey a final hug. Vanessa patted Brian on his arm. “We’ll be outside,” she said. “I’ll…‌I hope things go well with Price.” She turned away and left the room. Davey stuck out his tongue as they disappeared.

The nurse held the door, and Brian’s body seized up as Price walked in. It was unusual to see him dressed in normal clothes. He wore a brown fleece zipped right up to his chin and faded blue jeans. He looked like a regular ageing man.
Dale Price.

“Brian. I…‌I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

Brian tried to shrug, but his shoulders nipped against the bed sheets. Was there any part of his body that didn’t hurt?

Price cleared his throat. “How are you…‌how are you doing?”

“Price, just tell me something. Cassy‌–‌I saw her there, didn’t I? She…‌she untied my hands, and then somebody else came in for me. Price?”

Price’s head slumped against his chest as he looked towards the floor. He couldn’t make eye contact.

“Price, she’s okay, isn’t she?”

Price took a deep breath and stuck his hands into his pockets. He returned to his police officer stance, detached from the situation. “Detective Sergeant McDone, I’m sorry to have…”

Brian’s head spun as Price recited the words. The room seemed fuzzy, distant, as it buzzed around him. All of the pain and aching in his body receded.

“…to tell you this, but Cassandra Emerson died in hospital two hours ago.”

A warm tear slipped down Brian’s cheek. His throat was dry. It felt like a bullet had pummelled through his chest and knocked him back against the bed in which he already lay.

“She…‌Why? How?” He knew the answer. He just couldn’t process the words. It couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real.

Price’s jaw shook as he wiped his cheek. “She…‌she took your call. Said your location came up on Location Services or something and found it weird, so she went to check it out. She saved your life, Brian. She sacrificed her life for you.”

Location Services.
She’d set it up for him before they’d investigated the old hospital.
I always prefer to be cautious…‌
“No.” Brian sniffed. “No‌–‌fuck. No, no no. Why the fuck would…‌She had…‌Get out.”

“Brian, you need to calm down‌–‌”

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down,” Brian shouted, rattling his arms against the side of the bed. Price’s face was grey and filled with grief, too. The lump in Brian’s throat took hold of his entire neck.

The pair was silent for a moment, only the bleeping of the heart rate monitor cutting through the air. After what seemed like hours, Price broke the silence again.

“She was a brave officer, Brian. She was like nobody we’d had in years. The best acting DS I can remember. So much promise. I hope you…‌I think she’d like you to say a few words at her funeral.”

Brian dug his teeth into his bottom lip and shook his head.
Her funeral.
This wasn’t right. It wasn’t real.

Price stood up from the seat at Brian’s bedside and walked to the door. “I should go and let you rest. Sorry. I just thought I should be the one to tell you.”

“What happens now?”

“What with?”

Adrenaline rushed through Brian’s body. “Robert Luther. He killed Nicola Watson because she was threatening to open up about corrupt activities in BetterLives. It wasn’t Michael Walters. He was in the wrong, and he was doing horrible things, but he didn’t kill her. We need to get back to BetterLives. We need to do a thorough investigation. We need to punish Luther‌–‌”

“Brian. Robert Luther killed himself and burned down his office. You know that.”

“We need to investigate his office. We need to find out if anything else has gone on in the past and for how long. I was only there for a moment, but I saw stuff. I saw stuff, Price.”

Price stared at Brian. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Brian. Robert Luther killed himself because he’d lost everything. His best friend and longtime assistant had been abusing his position for years, then murdered Robert’s lover, and the charity looked to have collapsed without any hope of resurgence. You should get some rest.”

Brian’s mind froze. How could he let Luther get away with this? How could he let Walters take the blame?

“No, it’s not right. I was there for a reason, and he tried to kill me. He fucking killed Cassy, Price.”

Price halted and turned back to face Brian. Accusation glimmered in his eyes. “Brian, sometimes you’ve got to make the tough decisions. BetterLives is no more. Luther’s documents were incinerated in the fire. Michael Walters will be formally charged with the murder of Nicola Watson. Besides, it’s easier for the public to take. It’s easier to accept a twisted paedo did this and not the city’s symbol of hope. People would go mad, Brian. The city would kill itself.”

“I thought I was wrong about you.”

Price pulled open the door. “You should have let it go, Brian. You should have let it go.” He exited into the corridor.

Grief and misunderstanding ran through Brian’s body. Cassy’s death was all for nothing. It was all his fault, and it was all for nothing. Price was happy to use Michael Walters as the scapegoat. Luther had killed Nicola Watson, but he wasn’t dangerous. He just had his secrets to cover up. It was in the interests of the people.

Tomorrow, the press would portray Robert Luther as a shamed and embarrassed martyr. A victim of circumstance.

And there was absolutely nothing anybody could do about it.

The door clicked open again. It was Vanessa, on her own this time. He tried to keep the frog in his throat at bay. Tried to keep the tension behind his eyelids from letting itself all out.

“Are you okay, Brian?”

Brian’s jaw shook as he tried to smile. “Yeah, I’m…‌No. No I’m not.” His body exploded with emotion as he crumbled with tears.

Vanessa cradled his head against her warm chest and cried with him.

Chapter Thirty Seven

The sun shone down on the church. The grass was a rich shade of green, and premature daffodils sprouted from the ground. The church was in one of the nicer spots just outside of town in the little village of Woodplumpton. People always said it would be a nice place to be buried. Brian wasn’t so sure the buried would be all that fussy.

“Are you not going to go inside?”

Brian sucked on a hard-boiled sweet as he sat in the car park. The hearse had arrived a few minutes ago. He’d made sure to miss the coffin being carried inside.

“I shouldn’t. I…‌I’ll wander up to the grave later. Say my piece.” He turned ‘round to Vanessa and smiled.

She tilted her head in understanding. “You’re going to have to stop blaming yourself, Brian. It’s just got to stop.”

If she knew what Brian knew, maybe she’d understand. It wasn’t just the fact that Cassy had untied him, saved his life, and lost hers in the process. It was the repression of the truth, the truth about Robert Luther and BetterLives. Her death was, ultimately, for nothing.

Vanessa turned the page of the newspaper quickly before Brian had the chance to see it, but he knew what it was already. “BetterLives Closes Amidst Crisis”.
And then the footnote: “Funeral for Police Hero Today”.
A “horrendous accident” had resulted in her death, apparently. That seemed to work for the press. A horrendous accident where two officers heard news of Robert Luther’s attempted suicide, and one of those officers lost their life trying to prevent it. That was the truth to the people of Preston and the people of the country.

The nearby echo of music played through the church hall. Biffy Clyro’s first song, “Hope for an Angel”. Brian smirked.

“What you laughing at?” Vanessa asked.

Brian shook his head and wiped his nose. “Nothing, it’s…‌She always said she wasn’t keen on the old stuff. I wondered if she was telling the truth or not.”

Vanessa looked back at the newspaper and read the piece on inflation or deflation, or whatever the economy was doing nowadays.

A few minutes later, people started to emerge from the church. Brian tensed up in his seat, his legs still sore from the rubbing of the bandages.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

Brian glanced back at the open church door. Officers he recognised from work, holding their hats against their laps, arms around each other. A shadow grew near to the door, and he knew what it was they were carrying.

He hit the clutch and reversed out of the car park, driving away from the church and leaving the guests behind.

The journey to drop Vanessa back at her dad’s was a quiet one. Vanessa coughed when they reached the Guild Merchant roundabout‌–‌it was always her way of asserting her presence.