The Score (29 page)

Cat didn’t say it, because it was too horrible to think about, but she knew she had led Thomas to Rhiannon. She’d asked him for the IP address, given him the identity of his next victim. Had Probert been in the area anyway, ready to make the kill? Quite
possible:
if they were already investigating Tana’s Deptford address, Probert would likely have been in the area. Thomas would have told him to move fast, not to spend time enjoying himself, to get out quick before Cat arrived.

Cat’s intervention – intended to save a life – had ended up taking one. Something she’d just have to live with. And that was OK. Her heart was already held together by scars.

‘How do you feel about it?’ asked Kyle. ‘About Tilkian, I mean. He’d been a friend.’

Cat shrugged. She didn’t know. That he had lied to her was nothing: everybody lied all the time, that’s how the world managed to work. It was what he had done to the girls that preyed on her mind. Although he had in the end tried to protect them he had sucked them into his dark sex charades, used them to satiate his own haunted needs, projected the face and voice of a dead lover onto them, with no thought for who they were themselves.

Kyle looked at Cat, a rare softness in her eyes. She saw the battle within Cat. There were to be no games today, no rank pulled. ‘You OK Cat? Off the tranks?’

‘The tranks are not an issue. It’s Martin – Morgan – he’s my wound.’

‘Seems to me you got lucky, Cat.’

‘Why lucky?’

‘Because you’ve got it both ways. You saved his life. And you put him in jail where he belongs. Best of both worlds.’

Well, yes, there was that way of looking at it. The CPS were preparing their case against Tilkian–Morgan now. They’d be pressing for the longest possible sentence. Ask for it, and almost certainly get it.

Cat got out her tobacco, loaded a roll-up with canna, blew the smoke out to sea.

‘And Thomas. You knew not to trust him. But how? You haven’t told me that.’

‘Small stuff. Whispers not screams. That’s why I called you, not him, that evening.’

There had been other things, she had realised, about Thomas. He wasn’t a by-the-book copper. He’d been happy to beat a defenceless Riley, but had refused to hand over an IP address, which would have been a far smaller infraction of the rules by which policemen lived. The clincher had been his effort to get Cat chucked off the case by leaking stuff to Della Davies. He’d known she’d be suspected, must have assumed she’d be suspended, pending an inquiry. That had been a low move, really low, and after that, after Rhiannon, Cat had known her life was no longer safe. So she’d dropped out of sight. Out of sight even of a police pursuer with access to every electronic database in existence. She’d trusted Kyle and Kyle alone – and she hadn’t been let down.

Kyle had countermanded Thomas when he told the Met to put the cavalry on hold – but more than that, Kyle had believed in her, despite appearances.

The sun was still bright but the temperature cooling. Cat glanced towards the water. The large black bird swung back across the bay.

‘Are we going to take the boat out?’ said Cat, changing the mood.

‘Yes, but …’

‘But?’

‘We’ve been waiting for someone. Here she comes.’

Kyle gestured along the quay. A pony-tailed girl, blue-and-white striped boat top, was walking towards them, searching. She broke into a smile when she saw Kyle. The girl was very tanned.

Kyle waved and Esyllt broke into a jog. She got level with
the
boat and clambered in with that late-teenage combination of ridiculous grace and clumsy awkwardness.

‘Hi.’ To Kyle first, then to Cat: ‘Hi, I’m Esyllt? Tilkian?’ She also had that rising teenage inflection.

‘Hi, Esyllt. I’m Catrin.’

‘I know.’ Cat saw the girl eye her warily, resentment maybe mixing with gratitude.

Cat was aware of Kyle casting off the boat, pushing the bows out towards the open water. Kyle was enjoying Cat’s confusion; she knew that somehow.

‘When Dad sent me to the Caribbean, he told me who he was. I hadn’t known before that.’

Cat nodded. That was probably true, but even if it wasn’t, it wasn’t police practice to start whacking family members with conspiracy charges.

‘He said there were three possible outcomes to … to everything. One, he got killed. Two, he got jailed. Three, he made his escape and would be on the run for the rest of his life.’ A tear, glassy and brief, slid down her cheek. She continued, her voice less steady. ‘Don’t expect me to thank you for what you did, but …’ Still tears came. She said nothing more. Esyllt lowered her eyes, and Cat thought she saw a faint smile of something like acceptance there.

Cat rubbed her shoulder, and glanced again towards the water. The large bird still glided low. No doubt it was looking for food near the surface. A couple of feet behind, its shadow followed.

‘Come on, Cat, untie that sail,’ Kyle said.

Cat rose and pulled the sail as Kyle steered the boat out onto the sea.

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