I ran two red lights and nearly took out a group of late-night revellers. China’s men might have abducted Simone, or done what they needed to and abandoned her down a dirt track on the outskirts. You didn’t have to travel far to go from urban landscape to rural with the Cotswolds on the town’s doorstep.
The hotel was my starting point. As to what I’d find, I gave no thought. I did not dwell on what he might have done or the lengths to which he’d gone. The time for analysis would come later.
I threw the car into the closest parking bay and flew through reception and upstairs to the penthouse. I heard the sound of crying before I’d even knocked on the door. My legs felt weak with relief. Tears meant that she was in one piece.
‘Simone, darling, it’s me, Joe.’
The door opened a chink, the safety chain restricting entry. Simone’s tear-stained, swollen face emerged as she hovered on the other side. Two thin stream of mucus travelled from her nose to her mouth. I had never seen a woman look so dishevelled.
‘It’s all right now,’ I said, ‘let me in.’
She took the chain off, opened the door and collapsed onto me. Glancing over her head, I saw an overturned chair, the glass in the mirror above the desk smashed. In between furious tears, she gabbled so fast in French I couldn’t follow a word. To my untrained ears, it sounded angry and accusing, as though it was my fault. It was, I guess. All I could do was hold her tight. The front of my shirt, where her face had burrowed, quickly became sodden.
Gently, I inched her towards the bed, unpeeled her from me and got her to sit down. Shivering, she perched on the edge, bent forward, arms crossed tight, hands clutching her elbows. Her hair was down, a mess, strands sticking to her face. I put my jacket around her shoulders and took a spare blanket from the wardrobe and wrapped that around her too. Next, I raided the minibar, poured brandy for her, whisky for me. I pushed the glass into her hands. Two nails, I noticed, were broken. She cupped the glass tight as though huddling over a campfire.
‘Drink,’ I said, ‘it will help with the shock.’
She did, cautiously, and pulled a face at the sudden heat and warmth.
Pushing aside her hair, I examined the extent of the damage. Her bottom lip was split, her right cheek shiny and swollen. It could have been worse.
‘Tell me exactly what happened.’
She snatched at her drink and feasted on me with dark, cold-as-night eyes. She blames me, I thought, for not being there to protect her.
‘He raped me,’ she said, leaden.
My stomach lurched. I reached out to touch her.
She recoiled. ‘Don’t.’
My hand dropped. I was out of my depth. How do you pump a woman for information when she’s been violated? ‘I’m so sorry. I –’
‘Should have been here.’ She screamed at me, spit flicking across my face. Now was not the time to tell her that, if she’d only done as I suggested, she would probably have stayed safe. I waited for her anger to abate.
‘Who was the man?’
She regarded me with slow, cynical eyes. ‘Funnily, he didn’t tell me his name.’
‘Okay,’ I said evenly, ‘can you describe him?’
‘He was a big guy, white, I don’t remember.’
‘It’s important you try.’
‘Why?’ she snapped. ‘All I want to do is forget.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘But I need to know who did this.’
‘So that you can catch him?’ She arched an eyebrow contemptuously and took another swallow of brandy. ‘He smelt of cheap cologne. He wore a brightly coloured shirt.’
I briefly closed my eyes. China. Christ, what had he done to McCallen?
She got up suddenly. ‘I am going to take a bath.’
‘You can’t. You should report it.’ I didn’t actually mean this. It would draw all sorts of unwelcome attention, but I knew it was something that had to be said.
‘Forget it,’ she said. ‘The police are not interested in a woman who runs sex parties for a living and it’s hardly a threat to national security,’ she added, the pained look in her expression spearing my conscience. ‘I would make juicy headlines in the newspapers, nothing more.’
She was right. A defence team would rip her to pieces. In any case, my form of justice entailed more than a long prison sentence.
She disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door in defiance, the sound of rushing water loud and clear.
I took a long deep swallow of booze. I don’t like surprises and surprises were coming thick and fast. China a rapist, China a mental torturer, China who consorted with neo-Nazis and crossed up intelligence services, China who’d used the name Billy Squeeze to incite terror and fear, and for what? To punish me for an unknown transgression?
No, none of this tallied with the man I knew.