“When would I get it?”
“We can discuss that when you come to my office. But I’d need to know the nature of your information before we meet.”
“My daughter had that tattoo. She’s dead now. But she definitely had one of those.”
Emilia sat back down at her desk, silently pulling her phone from her pocket and opening the Notes app. “What did she look like?”
“Thin, bit tarty, I guess, but she had something. Like her mother.” The cracked voice chuckled now, but it sounded bitter, not joyful.
“Hair color? Eyes?”
“She was a striking girl. Black hair and big blue eyes.”
Emilia paused, her finger hovering over the screen of her phone. “What did you say her name was?”
“Her name was Summer, God rest her.”
“And she’s dead, you say?”
“OD’d. Her brother found her.”
“She had a brother?” Emilia said, failing to keep the excitement out of her voice. “What was his name? And where is he now?”
There was a long pause; then the woman replied:
“I’ll tell you when we meet. You don’t get anything for free in this life, my dear.”
And with that, she rang off.
112
Ruby lay dead still on the floor. She was shivering uncontrollably, but she made no attempt to move toward the bed. Her lungs burned, her throat was tight and she felt far too faint to stand.
The fight was over now; Ruby knew that. Why had she pushed him so far? Had she thought she could break him? No, she knew that her verbal assault on her captor was the last act of a desperate girl. The death throes of her resistance. She would never see her mum or dad again. Cassie or Conor. If they ever did lay eyes on her again, they would find her here, rotting in this horrible place.
Breathlessness used to panic her—a legacy of those trips to the hospital when she was young—but now she welcomed the feeling. She had never asked for much in life—had never expected much—but she hoped now that she would be granted one small mercy. Slow asphyxiation would be a blessing, a way to cheat him out of furtherpunishments and humiliations. It would be a small victory, but a victory nevertheless.
If she could drift away, here on this floor, then maybe she would see her family again. Perhaps there was an afterlife or somewhere where she could be at peace. Surely that wasn’t impossible? She had never believed in anything like that before, but now...
But shedidn’tbelieve it. Never had believed it. And life had taught her not to expect happy endings. Ruby knew in her heart that she would go on suffering until the bitter end. There would be no escape for her, and this place—this strange doll’s house—would be her tomb.
113
Lloyd walked to his car, a hundred thoughts tumbling round his head. Anti-Corruption’s investigation into Helen was ongoing and yet there she was—still in charge of the investigation and leading it with confidence and vigor. Ceri Harwood meanwhile was nowhere to be seen, having called in sick. Lloyd had thought about calling her, but then sense prevailed. While things were up in the air, the best thing he could do was keep his distance. Still, the lack of clarity made him deeply uneasy. Had he backed the wrong horse? Shaking his doubts away, Lloyd pulled the car door open—there was important work to be done on the Ruby Sprackling case.
He slammed the door shut and turned the key in the ignition. Before he could move off, the passenger door flew open and a woman climbed inside. Lloyd turned and was more than a little surprised tosee Charlie making herself comfortable, pulling the door quietly shut behind her.
“Shall we go for a drive, Lloyd?”
***
She waited until they were well clear of the station before she began. In the heavy silence that preceded this, Lloyd tried to work out if she could know—and if she did, how—but had drawn a blank. Despite this he knew with absolute certainty that she was here to begin the counterattack. She was a loyal ally of Helen Grace’s—always had been—and her sudden appearance could only mean the beginning of a new and potentially decisive phase in this secret war.
“I don’t think you’re a bad person, Lloyd. At least I hope you’re not. But what you’ve done demeans you and the job.”
Lloyd said nothing but shot a glance sideways at her. Could she be wearing a wire—was that what this was all about?
“Nobody knows I’m here,” Charlie continued, reading his mind. “And I’m not recording this. I think this is better handled off the record, don’t you?”
