‘Can I tempt you?’ he asked casually. ‘It usually helps that blind eye of yours to mist over.’
‘Why would you want to ruin me?’ begged Sofia. ‘What have I ever done to you?’
‘You robbed me of the chance to be a father. I know about your sterilisation. Your doctor called to check on your recovery and was unaware of my ignorance and your deception.’
‘How could I have had your child knowing what you are capable of?’
‘It could have changed something inside me, but I guess we’ll never know for sure, will we?’
Sofia watched helplessly as Patrick shrugged his shoulders and made his way out of the office casually, sipping from his glass as he walked.
Suddenly, a loud bang brought her back to the present – an object striking the rear window of her car startled her. Sofia turned to see where the noise had come from, just as a second object hit the door.
‘Jesus,’ she shouted and Oscar barked.
Tentatively, she looked outside and noticed, for the first time, the streets packed with people, watching as her car slowly passed them. Without her hearing aid, shecouldn’t make out what they were shouting but from their angry gestures and twisted faces, she read their depth of hatred for her. Others began to hurl missiles at her vehicle; stones, rocks and clumps of earth. She shielded her eyes when, ahead, a man on a bridge held a breeze block aloft, timing it perfectly as he let go. Sofia screamed as it bounced from the windscreen and onto the bonnet, leaving the reinforced glass with circular cracks like a spider’s web.
‘Please, stop,’ she begged, her voice trembling. ‘Please, I’m sorry. I’m begging you, just tell them to leave me alone. I know I’ve done wrong, I just want to die in peace.’
She let out another shrill cry, this time as bottles containing flaming rags and liquid shattered against the windscreen, side windows and doors. Eventually the car accelerated away from the crowds, like a blazing comet.
Chapter 46
Haunting images of Sofia’s burning car driving itself through the streets dominated the inquest screens, black and grey plumes of smoke trailing in its wake.
Drones nudged each other mid-air, competing to get as close as possible to Sofia’s car to capture her horror through the windows. Eventually one managed to catch a glimpse of the fallen star, revealing a terrified woman shielding herself from the flames outside and covering her dog with her coat. The Hacker had cut the sound feed, giving her silent screams additional gravitas.
‘What they’re doing to her is barbaric,’ said Libby, horrified by the public’s behaviour. ‘They’re no better than the Hacker. No matter what she’s been accused of, she’s still a seventy-eight-year-old woman.’
‘I’m afraid her age doesn’t come into it,’ said Matthew. ‘She’s at the mercy of mob mentality.’
‘But what pleasure are they getting from this?’
‘I don’t know if it’s pleasure or if they’re just getting caught up in the moment. When people are part of a mob, they stop being individuals, their inhibitions disappear, they don’t follow their normal moral compass. Would any of them have turned up alone to hurl a brick or a petrol bomb at Sofia’s car? It’s unlikely. But when they’re surrounded by like-minded people, they don’tsee themselves as violent individuals, it’s the group that’s responsible for the violence, not them personally.’
‘Thank you for that fascinating insight, doctor,’ sighed Jack. ‘Or perhaps she deserves it. Her chickens have come home to roost.’
‘Ignore him,’ Libby urged.
‘I’m only vocalising public opinion.’
‘Is that what’s happening on social media too?’ asked Libby.
Matthew nodded. ‘Humans are gregarious and we look for people like us to associate with. Nowadays, the easiest way to find that is online. Under ordinary circumstances your average person doesn’t post on Twitter demanding the death of a pensioner. But mob mentality and the anonymity of being behind a keyboard means people are braver when they’re together.’
A fire truck following Sofia’s car swapped places with an armoured vehicle ahead. Fire fighters clambered from windows while others hung on to the harnesses and aimed jets of water at her vehicle to dampen the blaze until the final flame was extinguished. It did little to reduce the knot in Libby’s stomach.
‘Time is once again our enemy, ladies and gentlemen,’ warned Fiona. ‘We really need to start discussing the next Passenger, Sam Cole.’
‘Ah, the bigamist,’ said Jack. ‘Compared to a murderess and a paedophile, it’s hardly the crime of the century, is it?’
‘Try telling that to his wife,’ said Fiona. ‘I cannot possibly imagine the level of deceit required to lie to someone for such a long period of time. Maintaining two separate lives without either wife knowing about the other … surely whatever satisfaction it gave him was tainted by the fact he could never really relax for fear of letting something slip?’
‘I say he should be applauded for having got away with it for so long,’ said Jack. ‘Aside from his questionable morals, is what he has done enough to send him to his death?’
‘By not choosing to vote for him, we aren’t sending him to his death,’ corrected Muriel. ‘It just means there are other Passengers I would prefer to lend my support to.’
‘You interviewed him and now you’re not supporting him. Your lack of loyalty says much about your depth of character.’
