DC Grounds chose this moment to step outside. He didn’t like scenes and Brooks seemed to be going way over the top. For whose benefit, he wasn’t sure. Whatever it was about, it wouldn’t get them anywhere, so he took the opportunity to radio in—see if anyone else had had any luck.
The call had gone out, all available units had scrambled to the area, but there’d been no sign of Mickery. An eagle-eyed community support officer had found a discarded red coat in a trash can just outside Marlands Shopping Centre, but that was all. She had vanished into thin air. Cursing, Grounds headed back into the house.
“Is she allowed to do this?”Martha barked at Grounds as he entered. Charlie was busy rifling through her handbag.
“Yes, sirree. When she’s like this, it’s best just to sit it out.”
Both women scowled at him. Mobile phone, lipstick, BlackBerry, a condom, tissues, keys on a ring with smiley family scene encased in cheap plastic, sweets, another condom...
“Married?”
For the first time, a moment’s hesitation from Martha. But Charlie was already scrolling through the contacts list on Martha’s phone.
“Adam? No? Chris, then? Colin? David? Graham? Let’s try Graham...”
And she pressed the call button...
“Tom. His name is... Tom.”
Charlie clicked off.
“Know you’re here, does he?”
Martha looked at her shoes.
“Thought not. Right, let’s get him to pick you up and take you ho—”
“Enough.”
“It’s ringing.”
“I saidenough!”
“Come on, Tom, pick up!”
“The Valley.”
“I’m sorry?”
“She said she was going to... the Valley.”
By now Tom’s confused voice could just be heard from the mouthpiece, but Charlie turned the phone off.
“Continue.”
“I don’t know where exactly. But she said she was going to Bevois Valley and that she would be straight there and back. Wouldn’t be gone more than an hour.”
Charlie was out the door and running to her car. Grounds might disapprove of her methods, but nobody could say they weren’t effective. The chase was back on now and heading toward its climax. Mickery had gone to Bevois Valley—home to Empress Road, Southampton’s notorious red-light district.
58
Caroline was sinking deeper and deeper into hell. And the lifeless corpse of Martina was her personal demon leading the way. However much Caroline shut her eyes, turned her back, screamed, shouted, wept and wailed, the sound of Martina’s silent accusation was impossible to block out.
Worse was the sound of laughter. The laughter of the evil bitch who had set this all up. She had made them apromise.She had said that if one of them— Caroline wept some more, but they were dry tears now. There was nothing more to give.
The whole thing had been a con. The woman was long gone. And Caroline? Caroline had killed a girl. An innocent girl. And what was her reward? Death.
Perhaps she should kill herself? A weird elation punched through her. She stalked around the cellar looking for a means to her end. She could hang herself with Martina’s clothes, except... there was nothing to hang from. The ceiling was smooth, the room unfurnished. There were no sharp edges and nothing to fashion into a weapon. Crazily, she soon found herself clawing at the bullet hole—Come out, you bastard!—before giving up and descending once more into despair.
