“Do you know where Lyra might be hiding out?”
“Probably somewhere near Portswood. She always lived round there. Never told me where she was sleeping.”
“And when she was working, did she call herself Lyra?”
“No, that was just between us. When she was on the job, she was always Angel. An angel sent from heaven, she used to tell the punters. They loved that.”
•••
Helen called time on the interview shortly afterward. It was very late and Melissa was completely drained. There would be time for more later, and besides, the priority now was to get a sketch that they could release to the public. She sent Tony and Melissa to a custody suite with a police artist, then returned to her office. She wouldn’t sleep tonight, so there was no point going home.
Had they just made the breakthrough that would bring this awful killing spree to an end? All this time they had been trying to get a handle on what had triggered this explosion of violence. Had Anton been the unwitting trigger? Had he precipitated this savage rage? If so, chances were he was lying dead in a fleapit somewhere. Helen wouldn’t mourn him, but she needed to find him if the pieces of this jigsaw were to fit together.
Her phone rang, making her jump. Jake again. He’d left a number of messages, wondering why she hadn’t been to see him, checking if she was okay. Were his inquiries genuine or the product of a guilty conscience? Helen surprised herself by not wanting to know. Normally she would tackle everything head-on, but not this time. This time she didn’t want to, in case the answer upset her. Her mind shifted to thoughts of Emilia. What was she up to right now? Was she contemplating pardoning Helen or busy planning her execution? If she printed her story, Helen would be off the case. She couldn’t allow that to happen, not now that they were finally making progress, but nevertheless she hadn’t backed down. She’d seen other officers make a deal with the devil, and within months they’d become irredeemably compromised, often corrupt. There was nothing to do in these circumstances but tough it out and see who was still standing at the end.
Helen grabbed a coffee and headed back to the incident room. This was no time for fear or introspection—there was work to be done. Somewhere out there was an avenging Angel with a taste for blood.
65
The house was quiet when Charlie returned home. Steve had eaten and gone to bed—the kitchen was scrupulously clean, as it always was when he was in charge. Charlie picked at a few leftovers, then headed upstairs to shower. The hot water pummeled her, briefly reviving her, but she was utterly spent and soon hurried to bed.
Steve didn’t stir as she entered, so she crept into bed as quietly as she could. They weren’t sleeping in separate beds, which was one small mercy, but communication between them was almost nonexistent. Ever since she’d decided to answer Helen’s plea to return to the investigation, Steve had made little attempt to hide his anger and disappointment. It was unbearably sad that just as Charlie was finally finding her feet at work, her domestic life was falling apart. Why couldn’t things just work out for once? What did she have to do to be happy?
She lay awake staring at the ceiling. Steve stirred, as he often did, and Charlie flicked a glance at him. She was surprised—and unnerved—to find him staring at her.
“Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said softly.
“I wasn’t asleep.”
“Oh.” Charlie couldn’t read him in the half-light. He didn’t seem angry, but he didn’t seem friendly either.
“I’ve been lying awake thinking.”
“Right. What about?”
“About us.”
Charlie said nothing in response, unsure where this was going.
“I want us to be happy, Charlie.”
Tears suddenly filled Charlie’s eyes. They were tears of happiness and tears of relief.
“So do I.”
“I want to forget all the stuff that’s happened and be like we were before. To live the life we always wanted to lead.”
“Me too,” Charlie said, just about managing to get the words out. She clung to Steve now and he to her.
“And I want us to try for a baby.”
Charlie’s sobbing subsided slightly, but she said nothing.
“We always wanted kids. We can’t be ruled by bad things that happened before. We have a life to lead. I want to have a baby with you, Charlie. I want us to start trying again.”
Charlie buried her head in Steve’s chest. The truth was that she desperately wanted a baby too, desperately wanted them to be a happy, normal family. But she was also aware that this wasn’t compatible with her career and that Steve had just thrown down the gauntlet.
He would never put it so crudely, but he had just told her that it was time to choose.
