The only person who knew nearly everything about her past was Briggs. Had he been playing games with her? ‘I’ve got to go, work to do and leads to follow.’ She patted his hand and pulled away, not letting him onto her suspicions. If he had betrayed her in any way, she didn’t know if her heart could take it. As it stood, he’d been the only person in the whole world she’d trusted with the details of her past. Had she made the biggest mistake of her life?
Chapter Thirty-Eight
12 years ago
Halloween
I gasp over and over again as earth floods onto my stomach – cold, slimy, full of grit – and I fight the image of a clump of worms oozing out and finding all my bodily orifices. I want to go home and cuddle Miffy. I want to see my mum and dad, and I cry until I can cry no more.
‘Stop,’ I yell, but the earth keeps on trickling. I need to see. I need to anchor myself. At the moment, I’m flying in space on a cord clasped to a satellite and it’s about to snap. I don’t want to be set free, floating in an eternal sky with no end. My body never found, my sad end never known by anyone. Tears flood my face. I kick; it feels like one of my toes is broken. I don’t care if everything breaks as long as I can get out.
Think! Seconds, minutes, hours? Which is it? How long have I been here and who is laughing from above? My senses are still working which means I have time. I feel the earth trickling and a splodge of wet follows. Soon, all the room in my coffin will be filled, taking my precious air with it. I gasp for air. I don’t want to drown in rainy grit. I need to see what’s happening.
I grapple around my hair, clumps of it tangling in my wet finger, pulling out and getting caught around my ears. It’s in my eyes and mouth. I can taste a strand: it tastes earthy. My nose fills and my head is thick, my breathing is hard. It’s happening. I’m going and there’s nothing more I can do.
My finger catches the thin wooden stick and my heart feels as though it’s about to burst through my throat. I have a match, another precious match. Trembling, I grab the box and strike.
Wide-eyed, I stare at the glistening worm, long and thick, not a little wiggler. Its huge anterior stares at me. I can’t see eyes, I just know it’s the head end and not the thinner bottom end. Its segmented body wriggles a little closer and I drop the match and the light is gone. I bat my hand in front of me, catching the worm. It’ll find its way back when I’m gone. That’s what it’s come for. It smells how close my end is and it’s waiting to take me.
My body will stiffen, then it will begin to rot from the inside, producing belching gases, then I’ll be revolting. Maggots will get to me…
I can’t breathe. My chest hurts. I’m having a heart attack. No I’m not, I’m too young, and I’m healthy. But shock. Panic. That can cause the heart to fail, can’t it?
‘You’re killing me!’ Through gasps, I manage to call out one more time but there is no answer, just the muffled laughter of my captor. Has my tormentor done this before? Will they do it again?
I can’t… I can’t… I can’t… think. My sentence won’t form. My chattering teeth. No sense made. My thoughts reaching out, no connections. Not connected. My mind – confused. Space, floating, dark. The cord has snapped.
Gasping and wheezing.
Can I hear? Only my own heartbeat.
It’s going. Gone. Gasp.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Now
Sunday, 1 November
‘Guv.’ Jacob burst into her office. ‘Uniform are on their way now – they saw someone coming back to the squat and they’re bringing him in.’
She held the file up and flicked it. ‘At last. I’m pinning my hopes on this person giving us something useful.’ She ate the rest of the chocolate bar that was her lunch and grabbed her notebook. ‘Let’s prep the interview room.’ Adrenaline coursed through her body.
As they hurried to the room, Gina felt her phone buzz.
‘Are they here?’ Jacob asked.
‘Yes. Kapoor is bringing the man through now.’ Removing her suit jacket, she placed it over the back of the chair. She passed Jacob a witness form on a clipboard and headed out to the main reception, meeting Kapoor as she reached the front desk.
‘DI Harte, this is Michael Dowler.’ Kapoor’s squeaky voice aggravated the underlying headache that Gina had felt coming on since she’d started eating the chocolate bar.
‘Mr Dowler, thank you for coming in. Follow me.’ She massaged her temples as they walked.
The man stared at her suspiciously, his mouth twitching underneath his stone-grey beard. He opened his mouth, revealing a gap where his two front teeth once were. Gina estimated that he was in his late forties but living rough had aged him way beyond his years. The layers of torn puffer jackets made him look plump, but Gina could tell from how stick thin his legs were that there was no weight to him whatsoever.
‘Is this about Al?’ Gina struggled to hear his gruff voice; it was as if he needed to clear his throat.
‘Alexander Swinton, yes. Thank you for coming in.’
