14

 

Miriam smashed both hands on the table of the interview room, playing bad cop yet again, and moved her face close to Christopher Garnish’s. ‘We know you are the perpetrator of those murders. You’d better confess.’

‘Oh, really?’ he challenged her. ‘If you had any proof, I’d already be formally under arrest, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.’ He emanated self-confidence, but a drop of sweat rolling down his temple betrayed his anxiety.

‘It’s just a matter of time,’ she said calmly, throwing a knowing look at Eric, who was sitting facing the suspect in silence.

Under his hands was a file, while the photographs of the first three victims were spread across the surface of the table. He kept the one of the last victim close.

‘At this very moment, officers are turning your flat inside out, and I’m sure they’ll find something,’ Miriam continued.

‘Don’t be too sure, darling.’ Garnish placed a hand under his chin to support it. He seemed almost bored. Every once in a while, he glanced at his wristwatch. Then a perplexed expression formed on his face. ‘My flat? How do you know where I live?’

‘I thought I’d seen your car somewhere before,’ was all Eric said, speaking for the first time. That blue Volkswagen was really familiar. He’d seen an identical one just the day before, when he’d gone to pick up Mills in Ashburton Grove. It hadn’t been hard to describe the precise location to the officers. The landlord of the house in front of which the Volkswagen had been parked had immediately recognised a photograph of the suspect.

There was a knock on the door, which opened right away, allowing an officer to peep his head in. He motioned to Miriam.

‘Excuse me for a moment.’ She sighed and then left the room.

‘So, Detective, how’s life?’

There was something in the man’s voice, but Eric couldn’t quite tell what it was.

‘While we wait for my lawyer, we might as well have a nice little chat.’ Then he laughed.

Eric shook his head just a little and opened the file. Then he tossed three photographs in front of Garnish.

The man froze, but did nothing else.

‘Do you see any resemblance?’

Garnish’s face relaxed, his mouth widening into a smile. ‘You believe I should?’ Now he was challenging Eric.

‘This family was massacred in 1994.’ Eric pointed at those new photographs. ‘Coincidentally, in the exact same manner your friends were killed.’

‘Uh, well, looks like you’re right.’ He pretended to look at the photographs with great interest. ‘Except for the fact that those three losers, including my uncle, weren’t my friends.’

‘You and I both know it was you.’

‘Detective, Detective,’ Garnish mocked him. ‘I’ve heard stories about your alternative methods, but you can’t be so good as to pin murders committed twenty years ago on me.’

‘But I can connect you to the ones committed over the past couple of weeks.’ Eric looked at him straight in the eyes, but the other man didn’t seem impressed by his words. ‘Including the one committed last night.’ And placed a photo of Daniel Pennington’s body in front of the suspect.

This time, he got a reaction. ‘What the hell’s this supposed to mean?’

‘All the murders were committed with the same weapon.’ He pointed at each photograph in turn. ‘All I need to do is connect you to only one of them, and then you’re screwed.’

Now Garnish seemed agitated. ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘It can’t be,’ he said, resolute. ‘Last night I was with Lorna Dillon, my girlfriend. All night long. She can confirm that.’

‘And what about the night between Friday and Saturday? The one between last Monday and Tuesday? And the twelfth of June, around five-thirty?’ He’d asked one question after the other, raising his voice a little with each one.

Garnish’s mouth was shaken by a slight tremor. ‘I was with her, every time.’

Yes, of course he was. Eric smiled. He felt he had him.

The door swung open.

‘We’re done here.’ The man who had spoken with an arrogant tone was in his thirties, dressed in an elegant, trendy suit, and held a briefcase in one hand. Undoubtedly a lawyer. ‘I’m John Meyers, Mr Garnish’s lawyer.’

Indeed.

Garnish smiled at the sight of his saviour.

‘If you cannot place my client at the scene of one of the crimes, at least, then I’m afraid you have no further reason to keep him here.’

He was right. Up until now, they’d been biding their time in order to give the other officers a chance to conduct searches, but in reality, they didn’t have the authority to keep the man in custody in the meantime. And without any evidence, the Crown Prosecution couldn’t bring a case against him. Others had tried to bring Garnish to justice in the past and had failed. The current prosecutor wasn’t willing to waste time and make himself ridiculous.

‘Therefore, Mr Garnish and I are leaving. Come, Christopher.’

The latter snapped to his feet and went to his lawyer’s side. He was still rubbing his fingers nervously on his belly.

Eric was furious and trying his best not to smack that insolent boy in the face. He hated defence lawyers, especially those who hung round with shady characters like Garnish and his friends.

He watched the two for a moment, then noticed Miriam standing out behind them. She spread her arms. She couldn’t do anything about it.

The lawyer and his client disappeared in the corridor, followed by her.

At that point, Eric lost control and knocked all the photographs and the rest of the file off the table with an enraged sweep of his hand. They hit the two-way mirror and slipped down onto the floor.

Turning around, he saw Adele standing in the doorway, watching him with astonishment.

Eric emitted a sigh of disappointment. ‘Fuck!’ he shouted. He closed his eyes to catch his breath, leaning against the wall with one hand.

She moved closer and embraced him.

That simple gesture gradually managed to calm him down. He held her tight and waited for his breathing to slow down.

Adele raised her head to his face. ‘You’ll see, it’s not over yet.’

‘You can bet on it.’ His frustration had dissipated. Yes, the bastard wouldn’t get his own way. Eric ran a hand over his hair. ‘You’re tired.’ He could clearly see that.

‘I’m good,’ she murmured.

‘No.’ He pulled the keys of his car out of his pocket and placed them in front of her. ‘Go home. You shouldn’t stay here, not today. I’ll join you later.’

Although with evident reluctance, she took the keys. ‘Okay.’

 

 

Gordon opened the door to the blue Volkswagen and sat down in the passenger seat. Now what?

A breakdown truck had towed the car to the Forensic Services garage and now he and Smith had the task of inspecting it. An initial scan hadn’t revealed anything. The passenger area seemed clean, including the glove compartment, which held nothing more than the vehicle documents and a few old burnt CDs.

His colleague was occupying himself with the boot, which was full of absurd items. Unlike the passenger area, which was almost immaculate, there were all sort of things in there: work tools, snacks that seemed to have fossilised in their packaging, a rolled-up rug, paint cans and brushes, a large bag full of training clothes. The latter, when opened, had choked the forensic investigator with a foul wave of rotting sweat. The man had started coughing, as if he was about to vomit. And he was accustomed to handling much worse!

Inside the car, in the meantime, Gordon was resigned. He would have to take this thing apart piece by piece. He stood up again and pushed the seat he’d been sitting in all the way back. He took an electric torch and leant down to the floor of the vehicle, pointing the light beam.

Nothing there.

He got up again and walked around the car in order to do the same with the other seat. As he did so, he had to zigzag between the objects Smith was pulling out of the boot and checking, one by one.

He opened the other door and reached out for the lever that would move the seat back. He pulled it, but it didn’t move. He put his electric torch in his mouth and started pushing with his now-free left hand. But it was no use.

‘Bugger,’ he muttered and crouched down, pointing the beam so as to illuminate the tracks on which the seat should move, to see what blocked it.

And there it was.

‘Holy smoke.’ He reached out with one gloved hand to try to touch the object. At moments like this, he regretted he wasn’t limber like his younger colleagues.

Finally, he managed to get to it and pull it out. ‘Smith, I’ve found something,’ he said, holding a nine-millimetre gun with one finger.

‘Fuck, me too!’ the other man exclaimed. ‘Look what was hidden under the carpeting in the boot!’ He was holding up one arm with a long black outfit draped over it, whilst his other hand showed him a small, dark cylinder. A silencer.

 

 

‘I’ll give you a hand.’

Eric turned as he heard Jane’s voice. She was holding a few pages of the file he’d thrown against the mirror.

She bent down to pick up a photograph and stood up slowly, her eyes fixed on it. ‘Where did you get this from?’

Eric let himself down into the chair, exhausted. He might as well tell her everything.

Jane gathered up the other photographs and laid them on the table, comparing the similar crimes, then she placed one hand on her mouth. She turned to face her colleague, waiting for an explanation.

‘It’s a case from twenty years ago.’ There was no point in keeping that secret anymore, but he was reluctant to dig into every detail.

‘Why didn’t you say anything to me about it before?’ Jane blinked more times, glancing back and forth from the pictures to Eric. They usually shared any piece of information about the cases; no wonder she was confused now.

‘I wasn’t sure about it,’ he lied. ‘Not until I connected the name of Garnish to the case.’

‘Is Garnish involved in these murders too?’ She seemed barely able to contain her surprise.

Eric shrugged. ‘There isn’t enough proof to nail him. Back then, he was interrogated because he worked at a nearby house, but there was no reason to think he was responsible for the crimes.’

‘But the Black Death cases are connected to him and this changes everything!’ Jane couldn’t stop looking at the photographs.

‘Yes, in theory, but we need physical evidence, otherwise our hands are tied.’

She dropped to the other chair, apparently caught by the same tiredness as her colleague. ‘Something doesn’t add up.’ Her furrowed expression revealed all her perplexity. ‘Okay, these crimes look a lot alike, but what does the murder of Daniel Pennington have to do with them?’

A ring from a mobile phone. Eric took it out of his pocket. ‘Shaw.’

‘Boss, Gordon here, from the garage,’ an excited voice said on the other end of the line.

 

 

As the doors opened, Eric darted out of the lift and headed across the entrance hall. ‘Miriam,’ he called her aloud.

He could see her standing outside the doorway, watching Garnish walk across the well lit courtyard and heading to the gate together with his lawyer.

Her head spun around as she heard him.

‘We found the weapon,’ Eric shouted, running towards her. ‘You have to stop him.’

Miriam looked at him for a split second, perplexed, as if she was absorbing the meaning of those words. Then she turned back, pulled her weapon from its holster with her right hand. ‘Stop right there!’ She started running towards the suspect.

Rage flashed on Garnish’s face. His lawyer promptly stepped aside once the detective reached them, her gun aimed at them.

‘Hey, darling,’ Garnish said, displaying calmness. ‘There’s no reason to get agitated. I’m not going anywhere.’ His gaze lifted to meet Eric’s, who was coming along behind her. Then, with a sudden movement, he grabbed her by the right wrist, removing himself from the weapon’s line of fire.

The gun went off.

‘No!’ Eric shouted, aiming his own weapon at the suspect.

Garnish punched Miriam in the face, sending her reeling; this way he took advantage of her confusion by grabbing her weapon and pulling her in close to use as a shield. He raised his right arm to push the barrel to her temple while holding onto her shoulders.

Eric winced. That was where he’d heard that voice. An image of the aggression towards Adele from the other night took shape in his mind. The way he was holding Miriam was the same, the voice was the same.

With renewed rage, he took a step forward, aiming his weapon threateningly at the criminal.

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Garnish challenged. ‘You have to be sure you’re going to hit me and not her.’ He pressed even harder against Miriam’s head, making her give a start. A rivulet of blood was dripping from the corner of her mouth.

Shouting in the distance. Police officers were running towards them from all directions. Garnish glanced quickly left and right, as if evaluating his next move.

‘Surrender. You know there’s no way out,’ Eric ordered. In reality, he feared the criminal would drag her through the open gate, which was right behind him. But unless there was a car parked and waiting for him outside, he couldn’t possibly get far.

His lawyer had been standing the whole time with his back against the fence, watching the scene and doing everything he could to get involved as little as possible, and didn’t seem willing to help his client.

The corners of Garnish’s mouth rose. ‘I’ll kill all of you, one by one.’ The tone of his voice was the icy and resolute one of a man who didn’t have anything left to lose. ‘And as for you …’ He pulled Miriam tighter, placing his mouth closer to her right ear. ‘I’ll take care of you soon enough, my beautiful little Frenchy.’

Unexpectedly, he shoved her into Eric, blocking his view.

Eric grabbed her to keep her from falling, but by the time he could look at Garnish again, the criminal had already dashed out through the gate and was crossing the street.

Just then, a pair of armed policemen caught up with them. Miriam pulled away from him and took a handgun from one of the two officers, then she started chasing the fugitive.

‘Again,’ Eric murmured under his breath, then reluctantly followed her.

Garnish was running along the street and had a decent head start. Suddenly, he turned around and fired a shot. His two pursuers ducked, slowing down.

‘Fils de chien,’ Miriam swore, as a passer-by threw himself to the ground, terrified, and others ran away. She dodged the former and increased her pace.

Eric was struggling to keep up with her. Two chases in one day were at least one too many. Then he realised they were approaching St James’s Park station. ‘If he gets on the Tube, we’ll lose him!’

In fact, the criminal rushed into the first entrance to the station, disappearing from view, followed a few seconds later by the woman.

He made for the entrance too, but once he was inside, all he could see was a big crowd. He stopped and looked around in search of the other two, until he caught sight of Miriam, who was stepping on the stairs to the Circle Line. ‘Police!’ she cried, ordering people out of the way.

He leapt over the turnstile, but as soon as he made it to the top of the stairs, he could see that Garnish was already down at the bottom and was disappearing into the corridors. He decided to keep Miriam in sight while he elbowed his way down the steps. Then he kept running. His breath was getting shorter and shorter. He wasn’t even sure where he was, but sooner or later, they’d reach a platform and that bastard would have nowhere left to run.

There it was! But beyond it he could also see a train waiting, its doors open. It would leave any moment now. He heard the door alarm beeping, announcing their imminent closure.

Ahead of him, Miriam was reaching the closest coach. ‘No!’ she shouted, darting towards the door, which was closing that very same instant. She managed to touch it too late. She pounded on the window, in front of the dismayed faces of the passengers. Among them was Garnish, smiling and waving goodbye to her with one hand.

As the train pulled away and Eric finally reached her, Miriam gave a deep cry of frustration, then she turned and kicked a litter bin, denting it.

Eric bent double, struggling to breathe. His mind was racing as he tried to figure out what to do next. They’d lost their suspect. There was no way to tell where he was headed. He could go anywhere.

Or could he? He needed to think.

‘Garnish has been watching us for a while,’ he murmured, his voice choked.

‘What?’ she said, her face bright red. She couldn’t stand still. She was shaking her head, struggling with her usual tic.

‘I saw him outside the pub the night of Jane’s party.’

Miriam’s expression became more attentive.

‘And this afternoon, hours before noticing him outside my building, I saw him following me.’ He stopped and took a long, deep breath. His heart was quietening. ‘Only I didn’t know it was him.’

‘Has he got it in for us?’ Miriam asked, incredulous. The weapon in her hand trembled at each muscle spasm. ‘Or just for you?’

Eric shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’ He knew that sooner or later his bad reputation among criminals might have consequences, but he still found it hard to believe it could be the cause of this whole situation. Yet it was the only one, among those that made any sense, he was disposed to accept.

Miriam froze and started staring at him straight in the eye. ‘He tried to attract your attention by copycatting those murders committed twenty years ago.’

He felt short of breath again. She had noticed the connection, too. Of course she had. And she hadn’t had the courage to talk about it either. Eric nodded. He’d thought it might be a personal message, too. ‘This man is a psychopath.’

‘But … what about the Pennington murder?’ she asked. Then a glimmer of understanding lit up her face.

Eric came to the same conclusion. ‘You heard it too. He said he’d kill us all.’ He studied Miriam’s disoriented look for a few moments. But she didn’t say a thing. ‘Daniel Pennington was collateral damage.’ The very moment he said that, he felt fear growing in his chest. ‘He was looking for someone else who lived at the same address until a little while ago, who is still listed as a resident there.’

‘Adele,’ Miriam murmured. ‘Your Adele.’

‘Fuck, he’s headed for her!’ Eric turned to look up at the timetables. ‘The next train comes in seven minutes. Too long!’

‘Let’s take my car!’ Miriam exclaimed, running back towards the exit.

 

 

She put on the safety glasses and ear protection, then loaded the weapon.

She’d repeated those gestures hundreds of time and made them automatically now, but never before had it been so important to follow the procedure down to the letter. She was holding the only certain proof that connected Garnish with the murders. His fingerprints were the only ones found on the gun. If the bullets gathered in the four murders could also be connected to it, that would be enough to incriminate him.

‘One shot,’ Jane announced, aiming the gun into the box. A moment later, she pulled the trigger.

The sound of the shot echoed around the ballistics lab, while the bullet penetrated into the gel and came to a stop a little more than halfway through the block.

The forensic investigator extracted it and placed it beneath the comparison macroscope. Then she repeated the procedure, but this time with the silencer, whose presence might affect the streaks found on the bullet.

 

 

He was struggling to cling to the handle above the window with his left hand, whilst holding his mobile phone to his ear with the other.

Next to him, Miriam was driving, sirens wailing, accelerating whenever she had a chance and then fully braking at any obstacles or dodging whatever came in front of her. ‘Get out of the way, idiot!’ Switching to her French accent, she had yelled at another driver, whose only fault was to have stopped at the traffic light.

On the other end of the line, the phone continued ringing in vain, then the answering machine picked up the call. ‘Fuck!’ Eric heard a beep. ‘Adele, don’t go to my flat, go back to the Yard. I repeat: don’t go to my flat! As soon as you hear this, call me.’ Eric hung up and hastened to dial another number. On the fifth ring, a recorded message with his own voice was played, his own answering machine. She wasn’t there or wasn’t able to answer. His mind prey to terror. He managed to make a third call.

 

 

The mobile phone started emitting a drum roll. Stern, sitting in front of his computer, reached out to answer with the hands-free speaker.

‘Let me see that image again,’ Jane said, standing behind him.

‘Stern,’ he said to the phone, distractedly.

‘Trace Adele’s mobile phone with the GPS,’ Eric’s voice ordered. Jane could hear the sirens wailing in the background, together with an engine roaring.

‘Eric,’ she exclaimed.

‘Immediately!’ added the detective.

‘Yes, sir.’ Stern started fiddling with his keyboard.

‘We compared Garnish’s gun with the bullets from the other cases,’ Jane continued. ‘It’s a match. He’s not getting away this time.’

‘We have to catch him first,’ was Eric’s comment, followed by a loud honking.

‘Where the hell are you?’ she asked. He’d rushed away from the department, but she’d had no news from him since.

‘We think Garnish wants to take Adele.’

‘What?’ She was incredulous. What was happening? Why would Garnish go after Adele?

Stern stopped moving, drawing Jane’s attention to the image on his screen. ‘Um, boss, here it looks like Adele’s mobile phone is in … your flat.’ He was stammering as if he’d done something wrong.

That piece of information made Jane smile. ‘What is Adele doing at your flat?’

‘It’s not what it looks like,’ Eric dismissed her, nervous, and ended the call.

‘To me it looks like you two are a couple,’ she commented, amused at her discovery, even if he couldn’t hear her anymore.

 

 

His heart in his throat, he climbed the stairs two at a time until he reached his floor and, when the front door came in sight, he stopped. It was ajar.

Miriam arrived behind him, but he motioned with a finger to her to be silent.

He took his mobile phone and dialled Adele’s number again. A few moments later, he heard a phone ring inside his flat. Very close. It was the worst possible situation he would have ever wanted to find himself in. If she was there, she was unable to respond. The open door made him fear the worst.

No, he couldn’t lose her now that they’d found one another. A sharp twinge of pain overwhelmed his thoughts. He tried to push it back. He refused to believe it. He had to hope he’d got there in time.

He closed the call and stuck his phone in his pocket, then took out his firearm, and so did Miriam.

With extreme caution, they walked towards the doorway. Eric reached out until he touched the door and gently pushed it. A faint squeak coming from the hinges broke the silence until now just filled by his own breathing. He stopped, swearing in a low voice.

Miriam moved to the opposite side of the door and leaned in front of the crack.

‘See anything?’ Eric whispered.

She shook her head. She took a small electric torch out of her pocket and pointed it out from above her weapon, then she gave the door a sharp shove, throwing it wide open. Trying to make as little noise as possible, she entered the flat, followed by him, and headed for the living room.

Eric’s gaze was drawn by something he’d almost stepped on. Adele’s smartphone, abandoned on the floor not far from the entrance. He looked around. The little piece of furniture by the front door had been slightly moved, as if it had been bumped.

He resumed walking. Part of him wanted to stop there for fear of what he might find in one of the other rooms.

The living room, faintly lit by the street lamps outside, looked in order. Miriam had gone to check the kitchen. He’d been left with the bedroom.

He swallowed and clenched the grip of his handgun. Seen from the doorway, the room looked dark. He took his own electric torch and aimed it ahead. He walked in. He could see the bed, still unmade. Something dark on the floor attracted his eyes, and he pointed the beam at it. It was Adele’s big bag.

He stood there still for a moment to catch his breath, then flicked the switch. The chandelier turned on, illuminating the whole room. Empty.

‘I checked Brian’s room and the other bathroom too,’ Miriam said, as she reached him. ‘There’s nobody here. Did you look in there?’ she asked, pointing at the bathroom connected to the bedroom.

But Eric didn’t answer. He kept staring at the bed. There was no sign of Adele, but all her things were there, including her mobile phone. There could be only one reason. ‘He took her.’ He shuddered at the thought of what Garnish might do to her. They could be anywhere now. How would he find them?

No, wait a moment.

‘Nothing,’ said Miriam, who had checked the bathroom in the meantime.

Yet something was missing.

Eric put his weapon back into its holster and went back to the front door. He lowered to pick up the smartphone. From that position, he started checking every corner of the floor. ‘Turn on the light,’ he ordered Miriam.

The room became bright.

‘What are you looking for?’

‘Did you notice if my car was parked outside?’

‘I wasn’t looking,’ she murmured. Her body wasn’t alert the way it had been before; her anxiety had resumed to show itself by means of a light trembling.

He stood up and grasped her forearm with one hand, blocking her involuntary movement. He couldn’t take care of her, not right now. He had to think of Adele.

She raised her gaze towards his and nodded, as if she’d read his thoughts.

Eric let her go and walked back to the living room, but this time, he headed straight for the balcony.

Miriam came to his side by the railing. ‘He came here on the Tube,’ she murmured. ‘That bastard came here on the Tube.’

‘He took my car!’ Eric took his mobile phone out of his pocket and pressed a speed dial button. When he heard the click of someone picking up, he didn’t wait for the voice on the other end to talk. ‘Stern, locate the GPS signal of my car. Quick!’

 

 

‘We should be close,’ Miriam said, slowing down her car. ‘This is the neighbourhood.’

Following Stern’s directions, they’d driven to an industrial zone in the suburbs. It was now after eleven in the evening and those wide, identical streets were deserted, save for the suburban fauna lingering around the wheelie bins.

‘There it is!’ Eric exclaimed.

Just ahead of them was his SUV parked along the side of the street, in front of a red brick building. It looked like a warehouse, but one that hadn’t been used for a long time.

Without saying a word, Eric opened the door and almost leapt out of the car, which was still moving.

‘Wait!’ Miriam shouted as she made the brakes screech. ‘That place must be enormous; let’s wait for backup.’ Her voice was already far behind him.

He ran across the cracked tarmac and started following the perimeter wall of the building, looking for a way in. Given that the car was parked here, it had to be close by. He turned the corner, taking a side street that was poorly lit by an old street light. The air was channelled there, creating a strong current, which made the lamp sway. A grey cat appeared out of nowhere, dashing from its hiding place. It hissed at him, its tail raised, its fur standing on end all over its body. Eric threatened it with a foot, and it fled as quickly as it had arrived and vanished into the darkness.

When he turned to the wall again, it seemed to him he could make out a dark door a few metres away. He reached it and gave a push. It opened immediately, but then stopped halfway. Eric slipped inside, holding his gun and electric torch firmly in his hands.

The beam of light populated the large space in front of him with shadows. The place wasn’t abandoned at all. The premises were filled two-thirds with packing cases of various sizes. It was probably a warehouse for valuable stolen goods. Garnish’s business. The boxes divided it into a number of corridors.

The flash of a reflection landed on his eyes for a moment. There was something metal to the left, a staircase. He pointed his torch at it. It led up to a loft, also built of metal, that ran along one side of the building all the way to the opposite wall, where it was connected to the first floor. Originally, it must have contained the offices.

He blinked. Was that a faint light?

He didn’t have time to think, he had to go up and check with his eyes. He climbed up the stairs, careful not to make any noise. Once in the loft, he turned off his torch and, keeping one hand on the wall, walked forward until he’d reached the other end.

He was right. He could see a ray of light filtering out between the shutter and the jamb of a door, although it was closed. It stood out in the surrounding darkness.

He moved closer to it. Perhaps he should simply charge in with his weapon drawn. Then he would decide what to do from there. He had little concern for his own safety. He had to save Adele. Garnish wanted him; it should be so. But that also meant he was stepping straight into a trap.

He didn’t care.

He placed his hand on the door. He was trying to figure out if there was any sound emanating from within, but he couldn’t hear anything besides the wind howling through the fissures in the walls of the old building.

He turned the handle and pushed the door open, pointing his gun ahead of him, ready to fire. Then it was as if every sound had been sucked out. ‘Thank God …’ he murmured in spite of himself.

Adele was sitting on a chair. A thin red line ran down from her eyebrow to her eyelid, and it continued under her eye, on her cheek, terminating in a drop of blood. On her cheekbone, a bruise stood out on her pale face. She was furiously shaking her head in his direction.

For a moment, Eric didn’t understand. His instinct was stronger than any reasoning. ‘Adele,’ he exclaimed, stepping into the room.

‘Good evening,’ a voice said.

Eric turned the barrel of his gun towards the sound just as Christopher Garnish emerged from a dark corner of the office. He was armed too, but his gun was pointed at Adele. It was the weapon he’d snatched from Miriam.

‘What shall we do, Detective?’ the criminal said, his tone almost conciliatory. ‘Want to see who’s faster?’

Eric wasn’t going to be intimidated by him. ‘It’s over. Backup is on its way,’ he said, taking a couple of cautious steps forward.

By way of an answer, Garnish stepped next to the woman and placed the barrel of his pistol to her temple. ‘Backup?’ He laughed. ‘Like her?’ And he nodded to his right.

Miriam walked in from another doorway. ‘Drop your weapon!’

‘Drop yours,’ Lorna Dillon said behind her, putting her own weapon at the back of the other woman’s head.

Miriam’s face hardened, but she dropped her weapon, which slipped from her forefinger and clattered to the floor, lifting a small puff of dust. She raised both arms with a slow movement.

Dillon shoved her forward towards the centre of the room, then she kicked the gun away.

Eric’s heartbeat quickened. He had to figure out how to get all of them out of this situation. He was still holding his weapon, but the two criminals were threatening both Miriam and Adele. The latter had started breathing heavily, the same way she’d done that morning, when she’d seen Daniel’s corpse.

Miriam, on the other hand, was as immobile as a wax statue. Not even the faintest glimpse of the anxiety she’d displayed in his flat was now visible on her. She stared at him, concentrated, calm, too calm.

‘Fuck you!’ she shouted. Her elbow snapped backward, catching Dillon in the ribs and driving her aim off. She turned and grabbed the woman’s right wrist, raising it up in the air. The impact of her back into the wall resounded in the room.

Garnish raised his weapon and shot.

‘No!’ Eric shouted as the bullet reached Miriam.

She released her grip on Garnish’s companion and fell to the floor.

At that point, Eric stopped thinking entirely. He aimed at Garnish and fired. Once, then again, hitting the man as Dillon began screaming.

As though the world had slipped into slow motion, she saw Adele throw herself to the floor and reach Miriam’s firearm. Lying down, she turned to Dillon and shot, hitting her in the head.

An expression of astonishment appeared on the woman’s face, while a rivulet of blood came out of a hole in her brow, then her body slid down the wall alongside Miriam.

A second later, the silence was absolute.

Still incredulous, Eric watched the room, uncertain whether the image offered by his sight matched reality. Then Adele yelled out.

He looked at her. She was still holding the gun with which she had killed Lorna Dillon, and stared at it, horrified.

A sudden sense of urgency drew his attention back to Miriam. She was lying prone on the floor, motionless.

He ran to her. Her face was covered by her own hair. A large hole had opened up in her leather jacket on her back, where she’d been shot. He put his gun back in its holster and touched her, then checked his fingers. There was no blood. He reached out again, and only then did he realise that the surface was much more rigid than it should be.

He delicately turned her body. Her jacket was open and revealed the bulletproof vest she’d put on. As soon as he saw it, Eric released a sigh of relief. She’d been much more careful than he had.

‘How is she?’ Adele asked, her voice trembling. Now her gun was on the floor. She kept her eyes on it, but she’d curled up, hugging her knees.

Eric touched Miriam’s face and laid two fingers on her neck. Her heartbeat was regular. She’d simply passed out from the force of the bullet’s impact. ‘Hey, wake up,’ he said, shaking her a little, but she didn’t respond.

A deep moan made him turn around.

Garnish was supine on the floor, two large red stains spreading out across his shirt. From them, the blood ran down onto the floor, expanding into a puddle. His body was shaken with tremors, his eyes wide open. He was moving one arm in their direction.

This seemed to startle Adele out of her state of shock. ‘He’s still alive …’ she murmured, scared. Then she started dragging herself on all fours towards him.

Eric caressed Miriam’s hair. That man had shot her, didn’t deserve his compassion. Yet part of him insisted on telling him he had to do something. Reluctantly, he left his goddaughter behind and went over to Garnish.

Adele was kneeling beside the criminal and was opening up his shirt. The man looked at her, begging. He moved his mouth, but didn’t seem capable of producing sound. A bullet wound was in the shoulder and didn’t seem serious, but the one in his abdomen was causing him to lose a lot of blood. She moved her gaze around, then met Eric’s. ‘We need something to stop the bleeding.’

He was watching her. He was finding it difficult to react to even the slightest stimuli. He could see Adele turning to him for help, but he had no idea what to do. He didn’t understand her request.

‘Eric!’ she screamed.

At last, he shook out of his stupor. ‘There’s nothing we can use here.’

‘Bloody hell, call for help, come on!’

After everything Garnish had done, including killing her ex-husband less than twenty-four hours ago, she was trying to save him.

He felt mean for having considered letting the man bleed to death. Adele was right; he had to call for help.

He retrieved his mobile phone from the bottom of his trouser pocket.

In the meantime, she had gone over to Dillon’s body and taken the silk scarf off her neck. Now she was pressing it against Garnish’s wound.

‘There’s no signal in here,’ Eric said. Zero bars on the display.

‘Go outside, I’ll handle this.’

He shot an uncertain glance at her. ‘Are you sure?’

Adele looked up at him. There was a calm expression on her face. Her previous shock seemed to have disappeared. ‘Yes.’ She cracked a smile. ‘Go, I’ll wait here for you.’

 

 

She waited until Eric was far enough away. She listened to his footsteps as he walked down the metal staircase. It would take him a few minutes to get outside and make the call. Longer if he decided to use the radio in Miriam’s car.

She turned her gaze to the other woman. She was still unconscious. Finally, she looked Garnish in the face and smiled at him. Then she took her hands off his wounds.

The man’s expression contorted.

‘Do not fear,’ she whispered with kindness. ‘It won’t take long. Your life will be over soon.’

There was a moan, a louder one. ‘Please …’ he barely managed to say.

Adele laughed. ‘Who knows how many times you’ve heard other people say that to you? It’s unpleasant to be on the other side, isn’t it?’ She leaned in close, bringing her head near his. ‘You shouldn’t have killed Danny, too.’ Then she sat up again and placed her hands back on the scarf covering his wound, but this time she pressed with her fingers, opening it even more.

Garnish emitted a choked cry as his body contracted, then he relaxed. His head rolled to one side, immobile, his empty eyes wide open, his mouth half-closed.

She felt her own lungs clamouring for air with greed, in a growing sense of breathlessness. Tears moistened her cheeks, while her body was shaken by her sobs.

A coughing sound made her turn. Miriam!

She looked at Garnish’s corpse again. She took the scarf off his wound and abandoned it near the body. Then she stood up.

 

 

He run up the stairs and rushed along the gangway, but when he reached the door to the office, the only thing he saw was Garnish’s motionless body.

‘Over here,’ Adele said, making him turn.

Miriam was sitting with her back against the wall. There was a grimace of pain on her face, but at least she’d regained consciousness. The other woman was kneeling beside her, helping her to take off her jacket.

‘Merde, fais-le lentement! Slowly …’

‘Sorry,’ Adele said. ‘I think she’s all right,’ she added, ironically, in Eric’s direction.

‘What happened to Garnish?’ His gaze lingered again on the criminal’s body. What had happened during his absence?

‘He’d lost too much blood.’

‘That son of a dog must have broken one of my ribs,’ Miriam commented, translating one of her favourite insults directly from French. ‘It feels like my chest is being torn apart every time I take a breath.’

Adele was now opening up her bulletproof vest. There was a bullet lodged in its back. ‘Good thing that you were wearing this.’

‘I’m not like someone who plays the hero without at least a little protection.’ She looked at Eric with a furious expression.

He went over and hunkered down by the two women. He couldn’t believe it was over and that they’d managed to get out from it all alive, without being forced to dig into the past.

He looked at Miriam, then Adele.

 

 

‘Good,’ Dr Steward murmured to himself, as he checked the X-rays. ‘Just a cracked rib. Nothing serious.’

Miriam emitted a noisy sigh and then a moan of pain, followed by cursing.

‘However, you have to rest. For a while you might feel pain even just taking a deep breath.’

‘I figured that part out already,’ she growled.

Adele let a snigger escape and Miriam cast her a glare.

‘Don’t worry, doctor,’ Eric said. ‘We’ll take care of her.’ And he gave her head a paternal caress.

‘I’m just sorry I didn’t get the chance to watch that bastard die.’

The doctor coughed and gave the other two a perplexed look. ‘Maybe I can give her something for the pain.’

‘Bravo, you understand in the end.’

But the doctor had already made himself scarce.

Yes, Miriam was definitely well. Eric couldn’t help but smile as he looked at her. He really loved her like a daughter. When Garnish had shot her, he’d completely lost control. The mere thought she might be dead had overwhelmed him. He’d felt a compulsion to annihilate him. For the first time in his life, he’d been driven by the desire for revenge and couldn’t do anything to stop it. But when he’d seen the man lying dead, after he’d returned from calling for help, all he’d felt was an enormous emptiness inside.

Part of him was happy the man was dead, but that subtle satisfaction he’d felt when he pulled the trigger had completely vanished.

‘Babe!’ a male voice exclaimed, dragging Eric back to the present. A big blond man in his thirties was standing at the door of the day hospital room.

‘Oh, fuck, I told you not to come here,’ Miriam said, annoyed. She buried her face in her hands.

‘You kidding?’ The young man went over to her, completely ignoring the other two people in the room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled her hands away from her face, and kissed her passionately.

Eric felt a sharp pain in the pit of his stomach. Where had this bloke come from? He cleared his throat in an attempt to draw their attention. But only his second try got them to pull themselves apart.

‘Um …’ Miriam muttered. She was in difficulties. Something one rarely saw in her. ‘Jonathan, I’d like you to meet Eric and Adele.’ She pointed at them.

‘Hi,’ Jonathan said, stretching out his hand towards Eric.

The detective stared at him as if challenging him, then studied his hand. He had no interest whatsoever in shaking it.

Adele stepped in between, offering her own hand. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she said, smiling, then gave a light kick to Eric, who reluctantly shook the newcomer’s hand as well.

After that, Jonathan focused his attention on his woman again, as if the other two had disappeared. He began caressing her face, and then her arms. ‘Are you sure you’re in one piece, babe?’

‘I’m fine,’ Miriam replied, almost resigned to his attentions.

‘I have the feeling we are two people too many,’ Adele suggested.

But Eric pretended he hadn’t heard her. He continued to watch them. They didn’t seem at all like a couple going through a crisis. He had the suspicion that Miriam had exaggerated a little when she’d told him they’d broken up. Or perhaps she was just trying to protect her privacy. That thought hurt a little. He’d always worried about her well-being. But, on the other hand, she’d stopped being a little girl a long time ago.

Now Jonathan was touching her sides and belly, almost as if he wanted to check whether she actually was in one piece. Eric felt a tug on his arm. He glanced at Adele, perplexed.

‘I think they’d like to be alone.’ She’d pronounced her words clearly.

He gave up. He knew she was right. He followed her into the corridor. The couple didn’t even seem to notice.

Only after he’d gone out through the door and found himself walking beside Adele in the hospital corridor, did he realise how tired he was. It was after one in the morning and he’d been awake since five in the previous one; he’d just come to the end of what had been his busiest day in decades.

When they stopped outside of the lift, Adele took his hand and glanced at him through her lashes. ‘You’re behaving just like a jealous father.’

‘I can’t help it.’ It was embarrassing to admit.

‘It’s sweet,’ she said, outlining Eric’s jawbone with the forefinger of her left hand. ‘I know a secret that you don’t know.’

Secret? What else was left now? Yet from the expression on her face, he could tell it wasn’t bad news.

‘I think Miriam is pregnant.’

‘What?!’

‘Haven’t you noticed how she’s got a weak stomach lately, and she’s irritable?’ She paused. ‘Okay, she’s always been irritable, but more than usual lately.’

Oh God. Yes, he’d noticed. He’d noticed her panic attacks had returned after they’d disappeared for years. Now he knew the reason.

‘You’re going to be a grandfather, aren’t you happy?’

‘What? No, no!’ he protested with vehemence, a little too much. Then he noticed Adele’s mocking expression. ‘My son is only fifteen. I have no intention of becoming a grandfather anytime soon.’

At that point, she started laughing out loud.

Why the hell was he getting angry? After all, it really was good news. He laughed too. Then they both stopped and stared into each other’s eyes.

‘I reckon this time I’m going to take at least a week of holiday.’

‘Will you take me to see that country cottage?’ She was studying him with the naughty young girl glance that had made him lose control that afternoon.

‘I will if you behave.’ And he hugged her tight. ‘But first I need to sleep. A lot.’

‘Let’s go home,’ she whispered in his ear.

The lift doors opened.

‘Oh, hi there!’ Jane’s unmistakable voice. This was the last thing he needed now. ‘No, I don’t want to bother you two.’ And she stepped out of the lift, but before walking away, she winked at them.