She thought of the others, and how they might have reacted to the news that she had gone into hiding.
Will they understand?
Emma still felt very uncomfortable with the decision. It felt as if she had abandoned them, particularly Dan.
She moved away from her vantage point and slumped onto the sofa, channel-hopping on the TV for something to watch.
It was after a minute or so of gazing at the TV screen that she thought she heard a noise coming from the kitchen. Reaching for the remote control, she muted the volume. She listened, her breathing shallow, as the television show played on in silence.
She couldn’t hear anything else.
Probably just my imagination.
But she left the volume down as she rose from the sofa and moved across towards the door. She turned the corner, and froze.
The back door that led into the small garden was open.
Instinctively, she stepped back into the lounge and slammed the door shut, remaining there, both hands pressed up against the wood.
If anyone’s there, they can’t get in.
But in her panic she had forgotten that there were two doors into the living room.
‘Emma. I’ve waited so long for this moment.’
She spun around. Peter Myers had entered the room silently, the door on the other side already closed behind him.
He smiled, as if greeting a long-lost friend. He had nasty bruising around his eyes, and his left cheek was still swollen.
Emma backed into the door behind her, and reached down for the handle, wondering if she could get through in the time it would take Myers to reach her.
She wouldn’t have a chance.
Peter Myers took one small step closer. Not once did he avert his lingering gaze. ‘I’ve waited so long for us to be together,’ he said, smiling. ‘I’m your number one fan.’
Emma searched desperately for words that might rescue her from the situation, but nothing came.
How did he know where I was?
were the only words echoing in her head.
‘Your father led me here,’ he said, as if stealing her thoughts. ‘I followed him from his house, this morning. So, after completing some unfinished business, I came back for you.’
‘Please, Mr Myers,’ she said, her voice faltering. ‘Let’s sit down and talk.’
‘Call me Peter,’ he said. Another step forward. ‘There will be plenty of time for talking. I always knew we’d be together. Ever since I saw you for the first time in the photo that Stephen brought home to me, I knew you were the one.’
His certainty was terrifying. ‘Please, Peter.’
Just then the phone in the hallway began to ring. It could only be her father, calling to check whether she was all right. But there was no way she would be able to reach it in time.
‘I should thank my son for bringing us together,’ he said. ‘And I would, if he was still alive.’
‘I’m sorry about what happened to Stephen,’ she found herself saying. ‘I really am sorry.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m not here to talk about that. You know,’ he said, ‘I did try to forget about you. Before the phone call, I’d tried to move on, I really had.’
‘What do you mean? What phone call?’
As if on cue, the phone in the hallway stopped ringing. Maybe her lack of response would in itself raise the alarm. She could only hope and pray.
‘His phone call, Emma. It reignited something inside me, and it just grew and grew, until I couldn’t deny it any longer. It’s such a beautiful feeling. Do you know what it’s like, to live for years in a loveless marriage? To share a bed with a woman you can’t stand the sight of? After Stephen died, Margaret began to lose her mind. In some ways, that made things easier. And then the phone call – well, it changed everything.’
‘Who called you?’
Peter Myers smiled. ‘Guy Roberts. All those years later, he brought you back into my life. He called to tell me what Stuart Harris and your brother had done to my son.’
‘Guy Roberts told you?’
‘Yes, he did.’
‘So everything that happened, it’s because of
him
.’ Emma was shocked, her thoughts rushing wildly around her head. Stuart must have told him, and then Guy contacted Peter Myers.
All because he wanted to raise the profile of his stupid movie? Would he really have stooped so low?
She had so many things she wanted to say, so many unanswered questions, but she couldn’t order them all in her spinning mind.
‘Yes, I suppose so. It brought us back together. And my time in prison, it just made things clearer to me – I don’t want to be apart from you. You know, I had a photo of you in there, and it really kept me going. I slept with it under my pillow. I’m your number one fan, Emma.’
Emma looked longingly over at the window. A middle-aged couple walked past the house, carrying shopping bags. She was so close, yet so far, from help. ‘Peter, please, you have to leave.’
‘But why would I go? I only want to be with
you
. I tried someone else, Emma. I took her from outside your flat, yesterday. I had come for you, but your father got there first. So I took her instead. But it didn’t work out. She tried to leave me, and . . .’
‘You’re scaring me.’ She really hadn’t meant to say it, but it had burst out in her rising panic.
Strangely, Emma’s comment seemed to leave him puzzled. ‘You shouldn’t be scared of me, Emma. I won’t ever hurt you. I want to protect you, from the men in your life who cause you so much pain. Stuart Harris, Dan, Guy Roberts – even your own brother, Will. That’s why I took him, Emma, to try and save you from making a terrible mistake.’
‘You’re talking about Dan?’
‘Of course. I did my best, Emma, to stop you from marrying him. I tried to save you.’
Everything was coming together, explained by this delusional man. ‘So all this, taking Dan, it wasn’t about revenge for what happened with Stephen? It was about you . . . wanting me?’
‘I didn’t want to hurt you, Emma. I know you thought you were in love with Dan, and that’s why I didn’t harm him. I could easily have killed him. Just like I killed Guy Roberts.’
The last sentence hit like a hammer blow, coming from nowhere. It made her want to turn and run, but there was no escape. ‘What? You—?’
He closed the gap between them. She considered tackling him physically, but he was a big man, and her martial-arts knowledge did not guarantee that she could overpower him. There was also the chance that he was carrying a weapon.
‘He thought he could use me, Emma, just like he used you. He caused you a lot of suffering. But, don’t worry, he won’t be able to hurt you any more.’ He reached out and traced the back of his hand across her right cheek. Emma could smell stale alcohol on his breath.
For the first time, she wondered whether she would ever see her family and friends again.
Chapter 46
‘You think I’m reckless, don’t you?’
Gasnier maintained his grip on the steering wheel and fought his instinct to answer in a way that would only be unhelpful. He slowed at a red light and came to a stop, taking a look at Edward Holden in the rear-view mirror. He actually felt sorry for him. He would have had to possess a heart of stone to not feel for the man.
DS Davies looked across from the front passenger seat, checking that Gasnier was going to reply.
‘I believe you did what you thought was best,’ he said, finally.
‘I just wanted the best for my family,’ Edward said, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
Gasnier nodded. The lights changed, and he moved off. The unmarked car didn’t have any sirens, which was one of the reasons why he had called out a patrol car to lead the response. They were probably already there. Although there hadn’t been a report through yet.
They were only a few minutes away.
‘It’s a left, just here,’ Edward said. ‘Then next right, and the house is a few metres from the junction, on the right-hand side of the road.’
Gasnier made the left and right turns. He stepped on the brakes as they came upon the scene.
‘Oh my God!’ Edward cried.
The patrol car was there, but so too was an ambulance. There was also a crowd of people huddled by the roadside, being chaperoned by one of the officers.
‘Stay inside the car,’ Gasnier ordered, as he swung open his door. DS Davies followed him.
Gasnier passed through the onlookers and addressed the officer. ‘Detective Inspector Gasnier.’
‘Sir.’
‘What’s happened here?’
Edward Holden came running up before the officer had a chance to reply. ‘Is it Emma?’ he demanded, wildly. ‘I’ll never forgive myself.’
Gasnier resisted the temptation to scold him for disobeying his instructions, and instead just ignored him. ‘Officer . . .’
‘It’s not Emma Holden,’ he said. ‘But we think it might be linked to the collision.’
‘Collision?’ Now Gasnier noticed the mangled bicycle by the kerbside.
‘There was a collision between a cyclist – a young lady – and a white van. We’ve got a couple of witnesses. The van drove off at speed from outside the house in question, and cut right across the cyclist.’
‘Did anyone see who was driving?’
‘A man matching the description of Peter Myers. And from what the witnesses said, it seems highly likely that Emma Holden was in the front passenger seat.’
‘Have you got plates?’
‘Yes. We’ve put out an alert.’
‘Good, that’s good.’ Gasnier thought for a second. ‘The cyclist, is she okay?’
‘Just minor cuts and bruising, sir. And she’s a bit shaken up. But nothing serious.’
Gasnier nodded. ‘Good to hear.’ His attention switched back to the task at hand. ‘Is the house secure?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. I don’t want anyone going near the place. No doubt the press will be arriving soon.’
‘He’s taken her,’ Edward said, ‘hasn’t he?’
‘It looks that way,’ Gasnier replied. ‘But every police officer and camera operator in the capital will be looking for that vehicle. There’s no escape.’
Edward didn’t look reassured.
‘Sir,’ a second officer shouted, jogging over to them. ‘The van’s been located, spotted on camera. It’s heading north, on the A23.’
‘He’s going to cross the Thames,’ Gasnier announced. ‘We could head him off. Pity there’s so many damn bridges.’
‘Can we get cars to the most likely crossing points?’ Davies asked.
‘We can certainly try. How many bridges are we talking about? Eight or nine?’
‘Sounds about right. The most likely options, anyway.’
Gasnier turned to the officers. ‘Go on, what are you waiting for? Call out the troops.’
‘We’ll know more about his intentions,’ Davies said, ‘when the van reaches the junction of the A202.’
Gasnier agreed. ‘The next few minutes will tell us.’
They waited impatiently for news.
‘The vehicle is continuing north,’ the officer reported back. ‘Cameras have confirmed it’s now on the A3.’ He stopped to listen again to his radio. ‘We’ve got a patrol car following from a distance.’
Again, more waiting.
‘Now right at the Elephant and Castle roundabout onto the A201.’
‘Tower Bridge,’ Gasnier said, crisply. ‘He won’t risk all the traffic to the tunnels. He’ll swing up left and cross the river there. Have we got cars waiting on the other side?’
‘I’m not sure, sir, I’ll check. Hopefully.’
‘Hopefully isn’t good enough,’ Gasnier replied. ‘Those cars have to be there, because that’s the bridge he’s heading for.’
Chapter 47
Emma looked out of the dirt-splattered windscreen as the van moved through the London afternoon traffic. The roads were busy, but they were moving. Again, safety was so close, but just out of reach. Peter Myers had locked the doors, and only he could reopen them with the button on his right, located on the inside door handle. He had been quick to tell her that she couldn’t get out.
‘Where are we going?’ Emma said. It was the first thing she had said to him since he had dragged her down the path and into the van. The vehicle had taken off at speed, and they had cut right across the path of a cyclist. Emma had watched with horror in the wing mirror as the cyclist had buckled and hit the ground, unmoving. There had been no way of telling whether she was okay.
‘You’ll see,’ he replied.
They approached the roundabout at the Elephant and Castle, turning right. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma looked first at Peter Myers, then across at the lock release button. It was in sight, but would only be within reach by lunging across Peter Myers’ lap.
Could it be done?
While she thought, they reached another roundabout and Peter Myers turned second left. He was heading for Tower Bridge.
And after that, where?
Suddenly, the bridge took on a greater meaning. She had to try something before they crossed it. That meant taking action within the next minute.
She formed a plan, and waited for the moment, her adrenalin levels rising. But suddenly Peter Myers seemed to switch his attention from the road back to Emma: he threw frequent glances her way as the bridge came into view, its twin towers thrusting skywards like a medieval castle straddling the Thames. There was no way she could try anything yet.