Speak No Evil (33 page)

‘And now your mum wants to divorce him.'

She nodded. ‘Yeah. And I suppose the thing that makes me cross, really cross, is that it means David's dead, you know? If she marries Michael it means that's it. That's the end.'

She looked out of the window, wiped tears from her eyes. Continued talking, eyes on the darkness outside.

‘So I ran away. Came to see my dad. See if they could get back together again. One last time. And then I met her.'

He nodded. He wished there was something more he could do, even lean across the table, take her hand, let her know he was there for her. But he didn't. He couldn't. She turned back to him.

‘Sorry,' she said. ‘I shouldn't get like this.'

‘Hey,' he said trying to smile. ‘That's what friends are for, right?'

She smiled. ‘You're really … thanks for listening.' She reached across the table, put her hand on his. His heart began to race. He didn't know what to do, whether to pull away, put his other one on top of it, grip hen harder, what. In the end he decided to just stay as he was and hope the smile on his face wasn't too soppy.

She ended it herself, giving his hand a squeeze and pulling away. She wiped her eyes again. ‘God, I must look a mess.'

‘No.' He looked straight at her. ‘No, you don't.'

Their eyes locked. Then she looked away. ‘So,' she said, ‘how about you? Wasn't there something you wanted to talk about?'

‘Yeah,' he said. And Abigail sitting there in the brightly lit café, after hearing about her troubles, his own and his mother's seemed to belong to a different world. ‘It's a bit … complicated. Maybe …' He shrugged, tried to smile. ‘Maybe it's not that important.'

‘OK. Whatever.' She looked at her smoothie again then glanced round. The staff were cleaning tables, stacking up furniture. ‘I think they want us out of here.'

‘Yeah,' said Jack. What did they do next? ‘Are you … where are you going now?'

She shrugged. ‘Nowhere. I'm not in a hurry to go back to the flat in case she's there again. What about you?'

‘Nothing,' he said. ‘Shall we go for a walk?'

She smiled. ‘Yeah, that would be great.'

They left their table, walked out into Eldon Square.

Unaware that someone who had watched them enter the juice bar and waited patiently outside on a seat all the time they were inside, was following them.

The taxi pulled up outside Albion. Amar paid the driver, made sure he got a receipt. The cab pulled away, leaving Amar and Flemyng standing there.

‘Here we are,' Amar said. ‘Journey's end.'

He opened the door with his key, pushed Flemyng inside.

‘Joe? Hi, honey, I'm home,' he said in an exaggerated, camp American voice.

Donovan came down from upstairs. Saw Amar and his reluctant guest in the doorway. ‘Come on in,' he said. ‘We've been waiting for you.'

He motioned Amar to follow him upstairs and to bring Flemyng with him. On the way up, he says to Amar. ‘I've told her what's happening so she knows what to expect. If we show him to her then get him out of the way, that should do the trick.'

‘Fine by me,' said Amar.

They reached the top of the stairs. Donovan knocked. ‘You decent?'

‘Yuh – yeah.' Anne Marie's voice, through the door, was small, unsteady.

‘OK.' He put his hand on the door handle.

‘Wait, please.' Flemyng put his hand on Donovan's arm. ‘There's no need for this. It's just dredging up unpleasant memories. For both of us. Why put her through this now? What do you have to gain from it?'

Donovan gave a tight smile. ‘Nice try. But you're still going through with it.'

He opened the door. Anne Marie was still sitting on the sofa, a look of expectant dread on her face.

‘Here he is.'

Donovan ushered Flemyng into the room, Amar behind him, ready to grab him if he made a run.

Anne Marie's face turned to a mask of horror. ‘No … no … take him away. Not him, no …'

Donovan looked between Amar and Flemyng, then back to Anne Marie.

‘No … no …'

‘But, Anne Marie, this is him. Martin Flemyng. This is the guy.'

‘No, it's not! Not him! He's not Jack's father …'

‘What?' Flemyng tried to make a run for it. Amar grabbed him.

‘What?' said Donovan. ‘You never said he was Jack's father …'

‘No, he's not the one. He's not the one …' Anne Marie looked distraught.

‘Shit.' Donovan looked at Amar.

They had the wrong man.

Jack and Abigail were sitting at a table in Pizza Hut on Grainger Street in the city centre. They didn't know of many places to eat and this was one of the cheapest and also one of Jack's favourites. Abigail hadn't minded. She didn't know anywhere else either.

They had pooled their remaining money, realized that they had enough for a large pizza plus salad and drinks. That was fine, thought Jack. Anything to extend his time with Abigail.

‘Do you have to go home soon?' asked Jack.

Abigail shrugged. ‘Don't know. I'm waiting for my dad to call me. Find out where I am. We're still not speaking.'

Jack nodded. ‘Right.'

‘What about you?'

He shrugged. ‘Same. My mum and I … we had a bit of a falling out today.'

‘Is that what you wanted to say earlier?'

He nodded.

‘What about?'

‘Well …' He still didn't know whether to tell her or not. He trusted her, probably the only person he could think of to open up to, but once he said it there would be no going back. The words would be out there. And what would she think of him? Would her opinion change? What would she do? ‘She … she just told me a bit of bad news, that's all.'

Abigail leaned forward, concern on her face. ‘What kind?'

‘Well …' Here it comes. Now or never, he thought.

‘Excuse me …'

They both looked up. A man was standing at their table. Short, bearded. Quite old. Wearing jeans, a plaid shirt and a suede jacket. He looked genial, smiling, yet slightly apprehensive at interrupting them.

‘Are you …' He checked on a piece of paper. ‘Jack Smeaton and Abigail Donovan?'

They exchanged glances with each other. ‘Yes,' said Abigail.

He smiled in evident relief, exhaled a great sigh. Smiled again. ‘Thank God for that. I've been all over town looking for you both. Tried everywhere. Just pleased that you got hungry eventually. I'm sorry to disturb you when you're eating, but I've got a message from your dad. I work with him at Albion.'

‘My dad?' said Abigail.

‘Yes, your dad. Joe Donovan. He says he wants to see you both straight away. Back at his place. The office.'

They exchanged glances once more.

‘Why?' said Abigail. ‘What's wrong?'

‘I think you'd better ask him yourself. He just asked me to come and get you, if that's OK.'

Abigail frowned. ‘Why didn't he phone me?'

‘He said that …' He rubbed his chin, looked embarrassed at what he was about to say. ‘… that you didn't exactly part on good terms this morning. He thought you might have your phone turned off.'

Abigail shared another glance at Jack. That explanation seemed to have mollified her, calmed her fears.

‘If you want to phone him, please feel free. But let's do it on the way. We've got to hurry.'

A spear of dread shot through Jack. ‘Why? What's happened?'

‘Nothing to worry about,' said the smiling man, giving Jack all his attention. ‘There's been some … developments in what he's working on, that's all. And he wants you both there, where you're safe.'

Jack looked at Abigail once more. She looked as uneasy as he did. They both had fears and concerns and knew not to go off with strangers, even in their teens. But this man knew things no one else could, unless he was who he said he was.

‘Well,' the man said, ‘it's up to you. I don't blame you. Some guy rocks up, says who he is and wants you to go with him. Like I said, if you want to phone your dad you can do. Same with you and your mum, Jack. But you'd better do it on the way. We have to hurry.'

That settled it. Jack stood up. Abigail, still nursing doubts but trusting in Jack's judgement, did likewise.

Besides, thought Jack, the man was old, fat, cheerful and he didn't give out any serial killer vibes. How threatening could he be?'

‘Get him out, just get him out …'

Amar bundled Flemyng out of the room. Shut the door firmly behind him. Donovan crossed to Anne Marie, sat down beside her on the sofa.

‘I'm so sorry …'

She shook her head, eyes closed. ‘God, I thought I'd never see him again. Never hear from him again. And then he walks in … What did you do that for?'

‘But, I thought we had him. I thought, from what you told me that was him. You never mentioned he was Jack's father.'

She looked up sharply. ‘I was comin' to that. It's not somethin' I go around tellin' people. But him? Jack's father? No chance. I wouldn't trust any kid with him.'

‘Then, if it's not him, who is it? Who's Jack's father?'

‘I can't tell you …'

Donovan was starting to get angry. ‘Anne Marie, you can. You have to. Who is Jack's father? What's his name?'

She sighed. Hard. Looked him square in the eyes.

‘His name's Haig. Tom Haig.'

Jack and Abigail were grabbing their coats. They had asked for the bill.

‘Don't worry about that,' said the smiling man. The company'll pay for that.'

He took it to the counter, paid, rejoined them.

‘So,' said Abigail, buttoning up her coat and getting her mobile out, ‘what's your name?'

The man smiled again. ‘My name's Tom. Tom Haig.'

He ushered them out of the restaurant.

‘Tom Haig. Tell me about him, Anne Marie. Everything. Who is he?'

‘Please … I can't do this any more …'

‘Yes, you can. You have to. He's out there and we need to stop him. Look,' he says, ‘Amar's taking care of Flemyng, making sure he's nowhere near you. He's called Tom Haig's number in London but got no reply. We have to assume he's here or on the way. Please. Tell me everything. Then we can stop him.'

‘He's already here,' she says, her voice quiet again, like she no longer has the energy to breathe, let alone speak.

‘What, you've seen him? Talked to him?'

She nods.

‘Why didn't you tell me?'

She looks up again. Tears are pooling in her eyes once more. ‘I tried … I said he phoned me … he makes me do things …'

‘I thought you meant killing those boys, or making out you killed those boys.'

She puts her head down again, addresses the table. ‘He tries to make me believe it's me, that I've done it. I have blackouts. You know that. He tells me what I do in the blackouts. Like the other night, I blacked out and when I came round my hands were bleeding'

‘You said you broke a window in the flat.'

She nods. ‘I did. But then I heard about this dead boy on the estate. And I had bad dreams. And I started to think …'

He leans forward, takes her bandaged hands in his own. Speaks quietly. You didn't. That's not you. There are no such things as bad spirits, he just plants suggestions into your mind.'

Her eyes screwed tightly shut, she nods. ‘I want to believe that but …'

‘But what?'

‘Last night. He called. Said I had to meet him. He knew where I was. And that I had broken the rules. So I had to pay.'

‘Pay? You mean he was going to hurt you?'

‘Pay. I mean pay. Money. Every time he finds me he wants money so he'll keep quiet. I haven't got much, but he wants it. Now he's heard about this book. So he wants the money for that. If not, he'll do terrible things. Let people know where I am.' She gives a bitter laugh. ‘He doesn't need to do that now.' Her face hardens once more. ‘But he said he'd already started.'

‘What d'you mean by that?'

‘That boy who was kitted last night? He said that was him. He did it. But he's got evidence that he's going to plant on me if I don't get him some money.'

‘OK. So tell me about him. Everything. And we can stop him.'

She takes a deep breath, her eyes closed. Lets it go, opens them. ‘Right. Tom Haig. He was my probation officer, my first point of contact when I got released.'

‘This was in London.'

‘West London, yes. Horrible place. But he was supposed to look after me, see that I found a job, help me. You know the kind of thing. And I clung to him at first. I mean, I was so scared when I came out, I didn't know what to do. And he helped me. And I really liked him.' She sighs. ‘That was then.'

‘What happened after that?'

‘Well … we started to see each other. I mean, we'd always gone out. For drinks, meals and that. It was all part of his job, socializin' me, he said. Gettin' me back into the swing of things. And one thing kind of led to another.'

‘What was he like?'

‘At first? Lovely. Really sweet, understanding. He used to look at you when you talked to him, and he seemed to really be listening to you. That made you feel special. I mean, he wasn't all that to look at, little and fat, really. But it didn't matter. He was kind to me. The first person in years to be kind to me.' She sighs. ‘Knew it would be too good to last.'

‘He changed?'

She nods. ‘Yes.'

‘In what way?'

She sighs again, thinking. ‘I found out I was pregnant. At first I was terrified. I wanted to get rid of the baby. I knew it was his, it wasn't that. I was just scared, you know. Scared of what might happen. Of what I might do. Thinkin' of me mother, an' that. But he talked me into it. Calmed me down, said it would be a good thing, that he would stand by me. He'd be with me. And when Jack was bom, that's when he changed.'