Friday 7 December 2012

Sacrilege - Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY



My eyes flew open. At first, I felt so disoriented I had no idea where I was.  Then Ryan’s handsome face loomed up at me through a mist. I tried to reach out and give him a hug but my body felt top-heavy and I could barely move a muscle. The full lips were smiling, eyes unnaturally bright.
Then I remembered.
Something shiny glinted in the leafy gloom. I saw the knife in Ryan’s hand. I tried to shout, plead…whatever.  But my dry mouth obstinately refused to make a sound. I glanced past Ryan’s shoulder. It seemed that the only part of the moon visible was a ghastly grimace.
The blade moved in slow-motion towards my throat.
Gripped by terror, I tried to crawl away but my sluggish limbs were totally unfit for purpose.
I heard a sound in the undergrowth of something approaching with speed. Could it be the bear, I wondered? Is this nothing but a dreadful nightmare?  If so, I prayed silently, dear God let me wake up! Suddenly, a flash of terrifying awareness revealed to me why I could not open my eyes. They were already wide open. This was no nightmare. This was happening for real. I was closeted among nature’s finest with a madman bent on slitting my throat.
The bear-like sounds grew louder. I thought I heard shouts, but could not be sure. The knife hovered in mid-air then swung away to the right and began lashing out.  In the haze, I could distinguish a human shape. It was tussling with Ryan. Another shape ran forward but this one came and knelt beside me.
“Are you alright? Can you hear me?” I nodded and slowly but surely began to make out features that struck me as familiar, only vaguely at first, and then with growing confidence.
It was Shifty.
Slightly improved vision restored, I followed his line of vision to where Ryan and the other man were wrestling on the ground. My heart missed a beat.
It had to be Philip.
Sure enough, I recognized the broad shoulders and hair so badly in need of cutting that it was curling up at the ends.
A loud shriek went up.
Silence floated down like a dark sheet and wrapped me in its satin folds as if preparing me for burial.
…………………………………….
I woke to find myself tucked up in bed at the widow’s house.
As if on cue, the widow herself opened the door carrying a glass of hot milk on a tray. “Good, you’re awake. I’ve brought you some milk and honey. It will make you feel a whole lot better.
“Shouldn’t I be in hospital?” I felt slightly aggrieved although immensely relieved to discover that I wasn’t.
“The doctor said there’s no need. Before you know it, you’ll be as right as rain. Now, let me plump up your pillows…”
“Don’t fuss, woman,” I muttered.
“Don’t you talk to me like that, Laurence Fisher. You may be poorly, but this is my house. You’ll watch your tongue or suffer the consequences.”
I knew it was no idle threat and mumbled an apology of sorts that seemed to satisfy her. She sat down on the bed and waited, intuitive as she was, for the questions to come tumbling out of my mouth, one on top of the other as they did, in an avalanche of confusion comprising anger, grief, and a hotchpotch of emotions to which I couldn’t begin to put a name.
“Philip…?”
”…is fine. I dare say he’ll be in to see you later so will Marc and Jackie. They send their love, too, of course. Oh, and Marc thought it best not to worry your poor mother with all this. Later perhaps…”
“Perhaps,” I agreed.
“Danny has called so often I dread the phone ringing,” she added with the same warm smile that had seen me through thick and thin more times that I cared to recall. It seemed incredible now that we had once lived next door to each other for years and barely exchanged a word.
“And Shifty…?”
“Shifty?” She frowned, and then laughed. “Oh, you mean Sergeant Harris. Yes, he’s fine too. Everyone is fine, and very soon you’ll be feeling the same.”
An awkward silence seemed to last an eternity. Again, the widow answered the one question to which I was desperate for an answer yet dared not ask. “Ryan was badly hurt in the struggle. He died, I’m afraid.  I really am so sorry, Laurence. I know how fond you had become of him although…”
“He was mad,” I declared flatly, feeling marginally better for having done so.
“It would appear that’s true,” the widow agreed, “but that doesn’t make it any the less painful, does it? You weren’t to know he was a…”
“Psychopath, the word is psychopath,” a new voice came from the doorway.
“I’ll leave the two of you to chat,” said the widow and left the room, nodding briefly to Philip as he came and took her place on the bed.
“You’re looking a lot better,” he said quietly.
“I’m okay,” I lied. I was not okay at all. Physically, yes, I was fine. Emotionally, I was a wreck.
“I’m sorry about Ryan. I know how fond you were of him. It’s not your fault things turned out the way they did.  You weren’t to know. People like that are experts at hiding their true character. They’re not only good liars, but also know how to cover their tracks. You weren’t to know…” he repeated.
“No, but you did,” I flung at him angrily. “You knew. Yet, you said nothing, not a word. You let me go on thinking it was Miles Packard you were after. How could you do that to someone you…?”
“Love…? You got that right anyway. I do love you, Laurence, in spite of everything that’s happened. The question is do you still love me?”
“The question is why didn’t you warn me?” I was shaking with anger and hurt.
“For one thing, you wouldn’t have believed me. For another, I had no concrete evidence, nothing that would stand up in a court of law. Yes, I suspected Banks but I needed proof.  The best way to keep an eye on him was to get in with the Packards. It wasn’t too difficult. We had a man there already on the people trafficking case to back up my cover story.”
“Sergeant Harris.”
Philip nodded. “A damn good job he did too.  You have a lot to thank him for. So do Marc and Jackie, Danny, too. It didn’t make his job any easier having to keep a weather eye out for you lot on top of everything else.”
“I’m sorry we were such a nuisance,” I muttered...
“Don’t be petty, Laurence, you know what I mean. Like I say, you owe Tom Harris a lot. I did my best, of course I did. But I couldn’t have done it without his help. He’s a bloody good copper. It’s no exaggeration to say he‘s the one you have to thank for staying alive. If he hadn’t kept an eye on Banks while I drove Danny and Teresa back to Manchester, I wouldn’t have had the faintest idea just how much immediate danger you were really in. I had intended to drive straight back, but I was exhausted and stayed over longer than I intended,” he added apologetically. “Thank God you’re all safe,” he murmured with tears in his eyes that may have moved me at any other time, but not now.
“Tell that to Agnes Musoke,” I retorted, “and Ginny Sharp.”
Tom was gutted when Ginny was murdered, so was I. She was a big help to us even if her heart wasn’t always in the right place. But Ralph Packard is a clever bastard…”
I had already stopped listening as I fought a losing battle with my conscience. How could I let Jackie find out the truth? Besides, what did it matter if Packard paid for one crime he didn’t commit among all those he had? I could live with the secret. Can I, though, live with Philip at the same time? Did I even want to try?
Ryan’s handsome face loomed in my mind’s eye and I felt his lips on mine, soft and warm, his tongue prising them open gently and his sex throbbing hard between my naked thighs…
A psychopath he may have been, but the Ryan Banks I thought I’d come to know and love was someone with whom I had felt more alive than with anyone I had ever known. Oh, and more so even than with Philip?  An incredulous alter-ego flung the question at me that had been haunting my consciousness for weeks. Conscience smarting, I could only answer a resounding, yes. For the first time in ages, my thoughts turned to Harry, my first love.  Not that it helped to hear him snort in my ear, Oh, Laurie, Laurie. For a reasonably intelligent man, you can be such an idiot sometimes…
No one should compare lovers, everyone knows that. The art of lovemaking is not written on tablets of stone. At the same time, I couldn’t help but ask myself whether I could ever settle for less again, even with Philip. There could be no disputing we were good together, after all. It had been enough once so why not again? This time, though, my alter-ego kept a diplomatic silence.
“Her family have requested that Agnes Musoke’s body be flown back to Uganda by the way,” Philip was saying. “Oh, and Ginny’s funeral is next Tuesday.  I think Jackie would like you to be there, but only if you’re feeling up to it. Naturally, she and Marc are going and Jackie’s sister Stephanie. The parents will be there of course. Jackie’s other sister Heather is making all the arrangements. I must say I rather like Heather even if she does come across as a bit of a bossy cow sometimes…”
My stomach began churning again.
It was a moment before I realized Philip had stopped talking. We eyed each other warily. “Where does all this leave us, Laurie, you and me?”
It was the question I had been dreading. I had considered various responses and rehearsed them all in my head over and over. Now, though, I couldn’t recall a single one as head and heart attempted a delicate high wire juggling act with balls plainly marked denial, despair and wishful thinking.
“Do you want to try again?” Philip pressed me for an answer.
“I don’t know,” I finally admitted. “I suppose so.”
You suppose so?” Philip flared. “What kind of an answer is that?  Either you do or you don’t?”
The wire began to sag as I struggled to keep my balance and keep my juggling act alive. It was all I had, after all, or so it seemed to me as I looked away from Philip’s heart rending expression and studied the duvet’s pattern of white lilies against a blue background. “It won’t be easy,” I mumbled.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” But I’m willing to try if you are. I want to try, Laurence, do you?”  I managed to nod without dropping any balls.
My mobile phone rang where someone had thoughtfully left it next to my pillow.   Relieved, to have an excuse for not meeting Philip’s searching gaze, I picked it up. It was my sister Mary to say that Thomas was out of hospital and back home. She hoped Philip and I would visit soon. “Love to you both,” she said cheerfully. “Bye for now.”
A strained silence descended.
 Philip and I regarded each other with mixed emotions. He leaned forward and gave me a cursory kiss on the cheek before leaving without another word passing between us. Once the bedroom door had closed behind him, I lay back and closed my eyes, half expecting to see a friendly bear loping towards me. 
But of the bear there was no sign.

The End


Author’s Note:

Many thanks to all of you supporting this blog and for your many e-mails. The trilogy, as narrated by Laurence Fisher, will draw to a close in Redemption which I have delayed finishing due to illness. Hopefully, it will be completed by the end of next year and serialised on the blog prior to publication.

I plan to try out a fantasy novel – Mamelon - in the New Year and will post a synopsis shortly.

Meanwhile…

If you have enjoyed the stories on the blog so far, please feel free to share the link/s to synopses and subsequent chapters with a friend. (NB Each serial will be deleted as and when I get time to upload to amazon as e-books.)


NB More information at: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

Monday 3 December 2012

Sacrilege - Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN




It was dawn by the time Ryan drove me back to the widow’s house. Reluctantly, he agreed to come inside. “All the downstairs lights are on, as you can see,” I said, “so it’s a safe bet that May is waiting up for us.”
“Waiting up for you, not me,” Ryan pointed out.
“Don’t be daft. May keeps an Open House. Besides, it’s high time the two of you met properly. She might have given the wrong impression at the hospital that time. You’ll love her, I know you will, and she’ll love you.” I suddenly realized how important to me that May Finn should give me and Ryan her blessing and must have sounded more confident than I felt because his face lit up and he seemed reassured.
We were soon sitting in the living room drinking large brandies.  I had been expecting to be drinking tea around the kitchen table and was surprised at the extent of my disappointment. Not that the brandy wasn’t welcome, it was, and went down a treat.
 “From what Danny has told me, I don’t imagine it’s a cup of tea you’ll be wanting,” the widow said with a dry laugh and disapproving expression that I didn’t take too seriously. “It sounds to me as if you’re extremely lucky to be alive, Laurence, let alone still in one piece. You look a mess, it’s true, but not nearly as much the worse for wear as I was expecting. I have to say, the cats for miles around must be quite envious. You have more lives than they do.”
Ryan laughed nervously.
“And you, Mister Banks, how do you fit into the picture exactly?” The widow gave Ryan a long, searching look. If she liked what she saw, the leathery face gave nothing away.
“Ryan and I plan to spend the rest of our lives together,” I said before he could answer.
“Really…? I hope you’ll be both me very happy, I’m sure.”  The widow’s tight smile and expression of surprise along with her good wishes rang with cynicism and disapproval.
Ryan drained his glass and got to his feet. “I had better go. It’s late and I’m keeping you both up. Thanks for the brandy. It was just what the doctor ordered.” He gave another nervous laugh and held out his hand to the widow. “It has been really nice meeting you.”
“You don’t have to go,” I told him. I looked to the widow for confirmation and reassurance, finding one but not the other.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” she said politely as they shook hands. “As for keeping me up, I’ve been up all night so what’s a bit longer between friends?” I cringed. Ryan swallowed uncomfortably, his Adam’s apple bobbing away like a foreign body trying to break out. Who could blame him, I asked myself with a mixture of anger and hurt? True, I had known the widow’s tone to have a cutting edge. On this occasion, however, it was practically lethal. 
Ryan grimaced and withdrew his hand. I jumped up. “I’ll see you out,” I said and accompanied him to the front door.
We kissed.
“That went well, didn’t it?” he commented wryly.
I felt wretched, but encouraged by a grim smile playing on the lips that had pressed with such heat and intensity against mine. “Give her time,” I muttered. “Besides, don’t forget she’s been up all night.”
“Haven’t we all?” he observed. We kissed again briefly, and I waited on the doorstep until he had driven off.
I stormed back into the living room prepared to take the widow to task for making Ryan feel so unwelcome but she had already retreated into the kitchen. I sighed wearily. She was on home ground now. What chance did I stand of pleading Ryan’s case or my own and her giving an inch?
“How much have you told him about Philip?” she said without looking up. I sat down at the table opposite her and warmed my hands on the mug of tea waiting for me.
“As much as he needs to know,” I hedged. “Ryan’s a lovely guy May. Give him a break.”
“Just how much does Philip know?  No, don’t tell me. As much as he needs to know, right? You know, Laurence, for a brave man you can be such a coward sometimes.”
“Hardly brave,” I protested.
“That’s not how Danny and Teresa tell it. I gather you saved Teresa’s life last night among other things.”
“More by luck than good judgement,” I mumbled and felt the colour rush to my face.
“Oh, that I can well believe!” exclaimed the widow, a warm smile taking the sting out of her words.
“Where are they?” I asked, only too happy to let the conversation shift away from Ryan and Philip.
“Philip is driving them back to Manchester.”
“What, at this hour? They must be practically dead on their feet, I know I am.”
“Philip offered and they jumped at it. I like Teresa, by the way. She and Danny will be good for each other. I’m glad. He deserves someone nice. So do you, Laurence,” she added.
“Meaning what, exactly?” I demanded, hackles rising.
“Meaning what I said. You deserve someone nice, someone who’ll make you happy.”
“Ryan will make me happy,” I insisted.
“I hope so, Laurence, for all our sakes, I really do.”
“Do your honestly think you’ll be any happier with someone like Andrew?” I jibed and immediately wished I hadn’t.
Her face fell but only briefly. Visibly and characteristically, she rallied. “It may not be a marriage made in heaven, I agree. We’ve both been alone a long time. We’ll have to get used to each other’s funny little ways and make allowances. But there has to be give and take in every relationship. I know you and Danny think Andrew is a dry old stick, a miserable old goat even.” She smiled and her face assumed a glow that seemed to peel away the years as I watched. “But you don’t know him like I do. He’s really a very nice man. He’s just not used to having to think about other people. It can be very isolating, living on your own. Oh, I know we live next door to each other but it’s not the same as living with someone, being part of someone else’s life. He’ll have to learn to live and let live like the rest of us. And he will learn, Lawrence. Be in no doubt about that. Besides…” Her voice trailed away then rose again, strong and resonant, “we love each other. If love is worth having, it has to be worth keeping. That’s the hard part, holding on. Sometimes you feel as if you’re clinging to a cliff edge and all you want to do is let go, make it easy on yourself. Then the grass under your fingernails tells you different. Believe me, I know. Only a fool is complacent about love.”
“Here endeth the lesson,” I joked ineffectually.
“I’m not preaching, Laurence, just…”
“Making a judgement on Ryan,” I snapped, “or is it me you’re getting at? It is, isn’t it?  Do you think I haven’t given my relationship with Philip all the chances it deserves and more? Well, you’re wrong, just like you’re wrong about Ryan. Do you honestly think I could ever be complacent after what happened to Harry?”
I was on my feet now. Suddenly, I realized I was shouting and immediately stopped. It was as if my own voice bounced back and ht me in the face. Not only was I raising my voice to the widow, something I had never done or dreamed I ever would, but also…
Involuntarily, I looked up. Harry’s name hung from the ceiling like the sword of Damocles.
Would I never be free? I could not possibly repeat the same mistake again…could I?
“Laurence, I…” the widow was saying but I didn’t hear. I wasn’t listening. A note of apology in the warm, familiar voice hurt me almost as much as the notion that I could ever, even inadvertently,  take someone I loved for granted again as I had poor Harry . Poor Harry, who had taken his own life because he hadn’t felt able to talk to me, confide in me, tell me he had AIDS. 
At the same time as I was hurting, I grew angrier and angrier. I was angry with everyone…the widow and Andrew, Danny and Teresa, Marc and Jackie, Philip and Shifty, the Packards. I was even angry with poor, dead, Ginny Sharp. How dare these people barge into my life and turn it upside down without as much as a by your leave? It wasn’t fair. Life was so unfair. But I would turn it round, I promised myself there and then. I would show them. We would show then, Ryan and me.
I fled the house in tears.
Before I reached the front gate, the mobile phone in my pocket rang. It was Marc to tell me that he and Jackie were at the flat and would I join them for breakfast. “You’re back together again then?” I was pleased.
“It looks like it,” my brother confirmed and I could tell he was happy. How could I muscle in and spoil things? “We’re getting married.”
“Well, congratulation. It will be a big family occasion of course.”
“If any of them bother to turn up,” he chuckled.
“I’ll be there.”
“No worries then.”
I yawned. I had never felt so tired in my life. Suddenly, breakfast with the happy couple seemed like a good idea after all. “I’m on my way.”
An hour and three half eaten breakfasts later, all three of us were fast asleep. I was the last one to wake up, only to discover the love birds had flown. Jackie’s sister Heather was perched on the edge of the sofa where I lay offering me a cup of tea that was very welcome. I sipped gratefully.
“Jack and Marc have gone shopping. For an engagement ring, by all accounts although I’m not sure it’s a matter for congratulations,” Heather was saying. “Still, it takes all sorts I suppose.”
“Jack, you say? I thought you were okay all with that?  Jackie certainly thinks so?” I made no attempt to conceal my surprise.
Heather merely shrugged. “I came to say that the police still won’t release Virginia’s body. Hopefully, though, we’ll be able to get on with the funeral this side of Christmas. Marc said he thought you would probably be going to Ryan’s later so asked me to hang around and offer you a lift.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
Heather shrugged again. “I can take you as far as Mile End. I’m sure you can find your own way from there.”
I thanked her and got dressed while she tactfully retreated into the kitchen. I could hear sounds of washing-up being done.
Later, I called Ryan but got no reply. I tried again in the car but with the same result.
“He’s probably asleep,” said Heather. “Can you wonder? You all appear to have had a very long night.”
“True,” I agreed.
“He might be out of course. You know how it is. By the time you’ve got hold of the damn mobile, it’s stopped ringing. Don’t look so worried. I’m sure he’ll call you back soon. Would you like to come back with me for a tea or coffee or something? I don’t imagine you want to be on your own after all you’ve been through.”
“Thanks.”  She was right about my not wanting to be on my own.  Something in her manner told me she didn’t either.
Back at the flat, she made more tea. We were in her kitchen. I felt very relaxed. Why did I always feel more comfortable in people’s kitchens than anywhere else, I wondered?  It was untidy but homely, what my mother would call ‘lived-in’. My wandering gaze rested on an ironing board in one corner on which lay a red blouse. “Ginny looked good in red,” I mused aloud without thinking, heard Heather’s sharp intake of breath and apologized. “I’m sorry. It must have been such a shock for you.”
Heather went to the ironing board and picked up the blouse. “Ginny looked good in anything,” she said with a cutting edge to her voice. “She was a cow but she knew how to attract men, that’s for sure.”
She wasn’t all bad,” I protested. How much, I wondered, did Heather know about Ginny’s co-operating with the police regarding the Packard’s people trafficking activities?  I liked Heather. At the same time, I did not believe for a second that she would take kindly to her own sister turning grass, whatever the provocation.
Draping the blouse over a chair by the window, she continued making the tea. I went to the window and looked out on a communal play area where a young couple were sitting on swings and some toddlers were playing on a slide under the watchful eye of two elderly women. “They must be the grandmothers,” I reflected absently and could only suppose the mothers were at work. It could have been my own mother standing there and wondered inconsequentially how much time she spent with her grandchildren. I had never asked.
My thoughts turned to Thomas. I still could not believe he had been excluded from school for carrying a knife. Thomas wasn’t that kind of boy at all. It had to be the world we live in, surely, moulding good people into bad.  Had that happened to Ginny Sharp, I wondered? My eyes took in the redness of the blouse and felt suddenly tearful for thinking about that unfortunate young woman. “Poor Agnes too,” I mused and began to recall our first meeting but broke off suddenly. Where my vision had been hazy, it had suddenly acquired incredible clarity, focusing on something about the red blouse that brought me out in a cold sweat.
There was a button missing.
“There’s button missing,” I muttered and hadn’t realized I had spoken aloud until Heather turned from where she was pouring boiling water into two mugs. “Oh, that. Yes, it’s a bloody nuisance. I’d intended to wear it today too. But it’s no big deal. I wear a lot of red. I dare say I’ll find it or a near match.”
“Like this one?” I had dug into my trousers pocket and recovered the button I’d found near Ginny Sharp’s body.
“Well, yes, like that one.” Heather reached for it but I snatched my hand away.
“I found it beside Ginny’s body,” I told her and was somewhat taken-aback by her lack of response.
“Oh,” was all she said. She turned her back, took a mug in each hand then turned to placed them on the table. “Help yourself to milk and sugar,” she said calmly and sat down.
“You were there,” I accused her. “You were there when that brute killed your sister.”
“Oh, and what brute would that be?”
“Ralph Packard.”
Heather burst out laughing. It was a horrible sound. “Ralph would never kill a woman.  He’d rape her, sell her, whatever…but he wouldn’t kill her. Ralph is far too much of an old softie for that.”
“How would you know?”
Heather responded with one of her matter-of-fact shrugs. “I know Ralph Packard better that anyone. I should do, I’ve been his mistress for years.”
“His mistress…!” I spluttered, vaguely recalling mention of a mistress but not from whom.
“Few people know so you can count yourself among the elite. Ralph is the best thing that ever happened to me. Even Ginny didn’t know. If she had, she’d have found a way to spoil things. She was good at that, spoiling things for people.”
“Is that why you killed her?”
“Oh no,” replied Heather coolly, “I ask you, do I look like the kind of woman who’d commit murder over a man?”
“So you didn’t kill her?”
“Oh, yes, I killed her,” said Heather.
I sat down.
“But the note…” I could not believe I was having this conversation.
“That was Ralph’s idea. It wasn’t murder, you know. It was an accident. Ginny always knew how to get under my skin. This time she went too far. I saw red and… well, the rest is history as they say. I panicked and called Ralph.  He told me what to write. I knew about his little campaign against you and your friend Danny of course so it made sense. 
“You knew…?” I was aghast.
“Oh, yes. We both thought it was a hoot. It was also a way for Ralph to pay off his debts. He owes Fat Georgie a small fortune.  The note was a stroke of genius, don’t you agree? “
“But why…?” I gasped. “How could you kill your own sister?”
“So she was my sister, so what? You must have realised by now that we’re a pretty dysfunctional family, surely? Besides, it’s like I said. It was an accident. She got me so mad I didn’t know what I was doing until…Well, until it was too late. Miles had called her to say he suspected Jackie of being a grass. That’s why she went to the flat, to warn Jackie. Only, Ralph had his suspicions too, and he’d called me and told me to check it out. Naturally, when I arrived and found Ginny there, I knew it was true. We argued and I completely lost it. End of story.”
“How can you be so calm?”
“Why shouldn’t I be calm? What’s the point in getting worked up about spilt milk?  Besides, no one is going to suspect me, and you’re no more likely to go to the police than I am.” She sipped her tea.
“What makes you so sure I won’t go to the police with this?” I waved the button in her face, careful to keep a tight grip on it. “This is evidence.”
“Circumstantial,” she declared. “Besides, you won’t want the publicity, your sort never do. It’s not as if there aren’t other people to consider either. Take your brother, for starters. How long do you give his relationship with Jack when it’s spread all over the tabloids that I killed my own sister? Not that our Steph will be too pleased either, what with her being married to a vicar. Still, it will liven up the parish magazine I suppose.”
“That’s the second time today you’ve referred to Jackie as Jack,” I commented distractedly. “Do you still think of him as a man then?”
“I think of him as a walking, talking, freak show, if you must know,” said Heather, “but I play along like everyone else. I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings. When all’s said and done, family is family.”
“It’s a pity you didn’t think of that when you strangled Ginny,” I observed scathingly, struggling with a pot pourri of incredulity and disgust.
“I told you, it was an accident. But I’m right and you know it. Jack would go to pieces if he ever found out and even your precious brother won’t be able to put him together again.  You care about Marc, I can tell. In my own way, I care about Jack.”
“Because he’s family…?” It was all I could do muster a parody of self-control.
“That’s right.” Heather paused to pick up her mug and fling a challenging look over the rim of her mug. “He’s my son.”
“What!”
“Ginny wasn’t the only gymslip mum in the family. If I’d had my way, I’d have had the sprog aborted. But my parents wouldn’t hear of it. They’re strict Catholics, you see. Mind you, a fat lot of good it ever did them. A fine addition to the family our Jack turned out to be! We weren’t to know of course. Mother has the business of managing crises down to a fine art. Steph was bundled off to Auntie Hilda’s for an extended holiday by the sea. And, hey presto!  She returned to be greeted by a new baby brother.”
“So Jackie has no idea?”
“Jack hasn’t a clue and that’s the way it’s going to stay.  I mean, how do you think he’d react to finding out his sister is really his mother and she’s just strangled the aunt he thought was his sister?  Yes. He’s tough. He’s had to be. But it’s straws and camels’ backs. He can’t take any more shit. That’s why he needs your brother. From what I’ve seen and heard, I’d say it was reciprocal wouldn’t you?”
I nodded, speechless.  Then another awful thought found its mark. “It was you who told the Packards Agnes was in London!” I gasped. “What kind of monster are you to kill your own sister and betray a friend?”
“The usual kind, the kind that has learned the hard way that if you don’t look out for yourself in this world no one else will. But how many times do I have to tell you? I didn’t mean to kill Ginny. To be honest, I don’t even remember doing it. One minute we were arguing and the next I had a grip on her neck. I let go immediately, but it was already too late. As for Agnes, that was unfortunate as well. Ralph came round to the flat without calling first like he usually did.  I’m sure you don’t need me to paint a picture.”
“Unfortunate?” I echoed in disbelief. “Two people murdered and you call that ‘unfortunate’?”
“Don’t you?” she parried. “It goes without saying that we never had this conversation, of course. Oh, and I’ll have my button back if you don’t mind. I’ve always had a soft spot for that blouse.”
She reached out her hand.  The fool that I am, I dropped the red eye into her palm. For a second it glared reproachfully back at me before succumbing to the fist that closed over it and withdrew.
I could think of nothing to say. Much as I longed to rant and rave, do justice to the invective furring up my tongue, I hadn’t the energy. I only knew I could not stay in the same room as that awful woman another minute. For the second time that day, I fled, only this time it was not in tears. This time, I was in shock.
I walked aimlessly for a while trying to come to terms with what Heather had told me. Eventually, I recovered sufficient presence of mind to try calling Ryan again.  I cold have wept to hear his voice, my relief was so overwhelming.
“Hey, Laurie, are you ok? Yes, come over. I can’t wait.”
Neither could I.
The next twenty-four hours was a glorious roller coaster of sex and booze, sex and booze with the occasional nap and packet of crisps in between.  The police had said they wanted to speak to us, especially me, and take statements. But we were past caring. We had switched off our mobile phones and disconnected the land line. They called at the flat twice yelling “Police!” and banged on the door when they didn’t have a finger on the bell. We ignored them. “We’ll have to see them sooner or later,” I told Ryan between steamy tongue-in-mouth kisses.
“Later,” he said.
I was so happy, I couldn’t believe I wasn’t delirious and my imagination running riot. For me, too, our lovemaking was an exorcism of sorts. I felt utterly cleansed by it. Nothing else mattered. It was frantic but never rough. Passion took us to crescendo after crescendo and always let us down gently. We’d kiss and cuddle or just cuddle, sometimes falling asleep in each other’s arms.  Uncannily, we would wake at the same time and start all over again. I had never experienced either a lovemaking so frantic yet caring or pleasure so excruciating. Harry had been a good lover, so too was Philip. Although Nick Carter and I had never been in love, we’d certainly had our moments in bed.  But none of them could compare to the ball of fire that was Ryan Banks, consuming me with a dragon’s breath one minute and fondling me with puppy paws the next.
It was early evening the next day when we emerged from the cosy warmth of our cocoon and ventured into the real world.  I called the police and told them we would present ourselves at the station the next morning. “Is eleven o’clock alright?”
“Make it eight o’clock and don’t be late,” a clipped female voice came back at me.
“That’s a bit early, isn’t it? I’m not feeling very well,” I protested
“You’ll feel a lot less well if you’re not here by eight o’clock sharp. We’ve been trying to contact you. Where have you been, cloud cuckoo land?”
“Something like that,” I said and pressed the off key on my mobile with some satisfaction.
We drove to Hampstead and had a meal at the William IV pub. Later, Ryan suggested a stroll on the heath. The moon was making heavy weather of breaking through some stubborn clouds and there was only a sprinkling of stars but it was a romantic gesture all the same and, although I had begun to feel tired, I fair lapped it up.
We had paused to kiss among some trees when it crossed my mind that Miles Packard had murdered one of his victims on the heath.
“Ah, but you’re with me and I wouldn’t let anyone come between us,” Ryan murmured, lightly biting my lobe.
“Not even a serial killer?” I teased.
“Not even the Grim Reaper himself.” Ryan grinned and kissed me again. “Mind you, he added with a wicked gleam in each eye, “I dare say the Grim Reaper would be preferable to a head case with a thing about pink carnations, for crying out loud.”
“True,” I agreed.
We embraced again and out of the corner of one eye, I caught a star winking at me over Ryan’s right shoulder,
. I yawned. “Let’s go back to the car,” I suggested. Suddenly, my legs began to give way and I would have fallen if Ryan hadn’t kept his arms around me and lowered me gently to the ground.  A blade of grass tickled my ear and seemed to be trying to tell me something. “How did you know, I asked?”
“Know what?”
“About the carnation….”
“Oh, that. I must have read it somewhere the same as you.”
“But…” I began to argue but the words died on dry lips. “That night you were attacked…it wasn’t Miles was it?”
“How would I know? It was dark and he wore a mask, remember?”
“It wasn’t Miles,” I repeated, struggling to hold on to the thread of thought that was snaking predatorily through my mind. “You weren’t the one being attacked at all, were you? You were the attacker. You killed those men and…” Philip’s words returned to haunt me.
He has sex with them afterwards.
I tried to get up but Ryan pushed me back, only gently but it was enough.
“What have you done?” I demanded. “You’ve drugged me.” I was more incredulous than frightened.
“It’s for your own good, Laurie. I love you, you see. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else, not ever. I want us to be together always. I wasn’t sure you’d understand,” he added apologetically, “that’s why I had to put something in your drink, so you wouldn’t try and fight it.”
“If you love me you’ll take me back to the car now and drive me to the widow’s house.”
Ryan shook his head. “It will be incredible, Laurie, you’ll see. We’ll go to heaven where no one can touch us. We can make love always, be together always. We’ll be a part of each other, just as we were meant to be. No one will be able to separate us, not ever. It’s the most fantastic feeling, Laurie, like making love to an angel. Only, this time I’ll be with you every step of the way. We’ll never be lonely again, not ever.”
I fought to keep my tenuous hold on consciousness.  “What do you mean you’ll be with me every step of the way?”
“I’ll not go away and leave you like I did the others, I promise. I’ll never leave you, Laurie, not ever. Well, just for a few minutes. But I’ll be back in no time, you’ll see, honest I will.”
“Where are you going?”
“I left it in the car, you see.”
“Left what in the car?”
“Why, the knife of course.”
“You’re going to kill me?”
“It won’t hurt, I swear. You’ll feel a tingling sensation across your throat that’s all. Then we’ll make love just like we did at the flat. Only this time, it won’t have to end, not ever. When I kill myself it will be like the most fantastic climax either of us has every known and the joy of it is it won’t have to end, not ever…” His face turned was shining and not just because a splattering of moonlight had filtered through the trees. His eyes were shining too, like cat’s eyes fixed on a mouse and savouring the anticipation of killing it almost as much as it would the act itself.
“You’re mad!” I meant to shout but could only manage a harsh, guttural whisper. What have I done? I’m in love with a madman…
My eyes closed of their own accord.  
No friendly bear came bounding up to lick my face and reassure me.  A bear, yes. Only, it was on its hind legs and raging fiercely. All at once, it dropped on all fours and reached me in seconds. Rearing just once, it descended on me. Nor did it waste any time before tearing me to pieces with its claws. In spite of the agony, I could not even scream as it proceeded to rip out my heart while still munching on my head trapped in its jaws.

Concludes on Friday

Friday 30 November 2012

Sacrilege - Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN



I must have fainted.  On coming round, I recalled the gunshot. “Am I dead?” I demanded of Danny who was kneeling over me, concern etched on his pale face.
Danny grinned. “Not unless I am, too, and I’m still breathing as far as I know.” My hazy vision cleared and I could make out Shifty standing a little farther back. “It’s okay,” said Danny, “he’s a copper.”
I had no immediate answer to that so concentrated on getting to my feet with Danny’s help.
“We need to get out of here now,” Shifty told us in a tone that brooked no argument.
“How can we trust you?” I wanted to know.
Shifty nodded to where Ralph Packard lay bound, gagged and bleeding. “It’s only a flesh wound,” he assured me, said anticipating my next question. “If it was down to me, I’d leave the old bugger to bleed to death. But that wouldn’t go down too well with my superiors so, much against my better judgement, I’ve patched him up for now.”
“Come on, Dad, you can ask questions later,” Danny insisted. “We haven’t time to hang about.”
But I stood firm, confronting Shifty with an accusing look. “It was you, wasn’t it? You killed Ginny Sharp. Don’t deny it. I saw you leaving Grantham Court.”
“Quite possibly since I live there,” said Shifty. “Now, Danny’s right. We need to get a move on, okay?”
“I don’t believe you.” I was in no mood for prevarication. “Why did you kill Ginny Sharp?”
“I didn’t.”
“So who did?”
“I don’t know. I heard a noise. By the time I got there, whoever killed Ginny had already done a runner. It had to be someone Ginny knew, though, that’s for sure. There were no raised voices, no sounds of a scuffle, nothing. I would have heard since I was next door.”
“You were next door?” I was incredulous and even less inclined to believe a word the man said than ever.
“Phil arranged it. He asked me to keep an eye on things after what happened to your brother last time.” Grudgingly, I felt inclined to believe him. He went on, “I saw Ginny arrive at the flat and I saw your brother leave. I saw no one else. According to Ginny’s mobile phone, she hadn’t made any calls that day. The only calls received were from her sister Heather and Miles Packard.”
“Miles Packard, the swine!” I exclaimed involuntarily. Like father, like son. Both had the killer instinct. But Miles…he had to be the serial killer. If I’d had any doubts before, I was certain of it now.
“We haven’t got time for this, we have to find Teresa!” Danny was getting impatient.
“Danny’s right about one thing. We need to leave here…now,” Shifty agreed and glared at Danny, “But no heroics, okay?  I’ll see you to the nearest street exit. Then you and Laurence can make your way back to the widow’s house and leave the rest to the professionals.”
“But the auction…” I heard myself wailing, “It’s here, not Mile End like the police think.”
“I am the police, remember? And I’m right here. So is Phil. Believe me, reinforcements are on their way. All we have to do is find a way to keep things on hold until they get here.”
“Easier said than done,” I said somewhat unnecessarily.
Shifty merely shrugged. “You can always rely on your Phil to come up with the goods. You should know,” he added with a wry smile that didn’t strike me as in the least bit shifty any more. Even so, my fragile sensibilities were quick to react.
“He’s not ‘my’ Phil,” I retorted and then came over faint again as I realized what I had said.
Shifty lent me a supporting arm for which I was grateful. At the same time, it struck me as ludicrous that I should keep thinking of him as Shifty.  Before I could ask him his name, however, Danny took it into his head to run out into the yard.
“Hey, Danny, wait!” Shifty called in a loud, harsh whisper. He removed his arm and left me struggling to keep from falling in a heap on the floor again.
I watched in horror as Shifty, too, disappeared from view. “Wait for me!” I wanted to yell, but remembered just in time to keep quiet. Instead, I ran after them just as fast as my shaky legs would carry me.
There was no moon in view, only a watery light filtering through a low hanging blanket of cloud. It was enough to help me locate Shifty who was standing at one side of the warehouse, staring upwards. I followed his line of vision and let out an involuntary gasp. I could just about make out a figure climbing up a fire escape at the near side the warehouse. It had to be Danny. I could only watch, transfixed with mounting apprehension as he clambered on to the roof and made his way towards what I could only assume was a trapdoor or skylight. Seconds later, he had descended out of sight.
I ran to join Shifty who was less than pleased to see me.
“We have to go after him,” I panted. “There’s no telling what he might do. He’s determined to play the hero and rescue Teresa but…well…I have my doubts,” I confessed.
“You and me both,” Shifty growled. “Look, keep straight ahead for another fifty yards then bear right and you’ll see a gate. Don’t stop till you’re well away from here. If you’ll take my advice, you’ll go back to the widow’s house. I’ll be in touch just as soon as I have anything to say. Now, get going.”
“Not on your Nelly,” I told him straight. “If you think I’m deserting Danny in his hour of need, you can think again!”
“Shit!” Shifty swore softly. “That’s all I need, a have-a-go hero and a bleeding drama queen!” But he saw I was determined. “Okay, but be sure and stay close to me, do exactly as I say and keep your mouth shut, okay?  I don’t want to hear a sound out of you unless it is absolutely necessary, alright? No question, no arguments. You just do exactly as I say, okay?” he repeated. “I don’t want to hear you so much as breathe, understand?” I put my finger to my lips to show that I did. “Give me strength!” was the last thing I heard him mutter before we made our dash for the fire escape.
The metal ladder stretched higher than I had first thought. We were barely half way up when I began to feel dizzy. The moon chose that moment to break through a gap in the clouds, flooding the yard with an eerie white light. At the same time, the back door of the club opened and several figures emerged. Male voices drifted to where we clung to the cold metal rungs, silently praying the men below would not glance up and spot us.
I froze and shut my eyes.
The voices faded and I heard a door slam. I opened my eyes to discover that Shifty had already begun climbing again.
In vain, I willed my legs to move.
“Come on!” Shifty hissed. He had reached the roof and was lying on his belly peering down at me.
Again, I attempted to move but without success. I began to panic.
“Oh, stay there then. See if I care!” Another low hiss nicked my flesh like a bullet. The scene in the shed returned to haunt me.  I forced myself to look up and opened my mouth to whisper to Shifty that I couldn’t move.
But Shifty had gone. The moon, too, had disappeared again. It was nothing short of terror that galvanised me into action. Seconds later, I was crouched on the warehouse roof, too relieved even to be scared any more.
Shifty beckoned impatiently.
We dropped several feet to a mezzanine floor strewn with straw and littered with boxes of various sizes, some open, some not.  There was no sign of Danny. I peered over the edge to the scene below. The auction was well underway. Two naked young women were being paraded on a makeshift stage. Each wore a number. They were in a spotlight that made it hard to make out their features from where I lay.
Where the devil has Danny got to?
“So what am I bid for number eleven?” a cretin I took to be the auctioneer called out while another dragged a whimpering number eleven forward so the customers could get a better view. “A good little earner, great tits…what more could you ask? Oh, and she’s only sixteen.” He called out to the subject of everyone’s eager attention, “Come on, love, show us that cute little bum of yours!”
Cretin number two forced the girl to turn around and slapped her rump before swinging her round again and squeezing her breasts.  There were jeers, cheers and spasmodic applause. “Now, now, Chris, we’ll have no manhandling the merchandise if you don’t mind. No one here wants soiled goods, sight?” he faced the crowd, leering. “Time enough for that when she’s paying off the mortgage for you, eh?”
Raucous laughter made my stomach heave.
“Come on now, who will start the bidding for this luscious, scrumptious, sexy little virgin?”
“A thousand pounds!” someone yelled.
“On your bike!” the auctioneer shouted to the sound of more laughter that sent shivers up and down my spine.
“Five thousand,” someone else called out.
“For a virgin…?” The cretin made no attempt to conceal his disgust.
The bidding continued until the hapless number seven was handed over to a tall bespectacled man who promptly handed her over to someone closely resembling one of the Packard’s gorillas who promptly dragged her away through a side door.
“Now, ladies and gentleman, feast your eyes on this little beauty!” the auctioneer cried and the only young woman remaining on the stage was pushed forward.  I didn’t want to look. It felt wrong. It was with some difficulty that I prevented myself from retching several times already. Even so, my eyes were drawn irresistibly to the stage where the naked young woman was being paraded by cretin number two.  I wanted to shut my eyes but didn’t, couldn’t. Something about the woman struck me a vaguely familiar. I screwed up my eyes to focus more clearly. Somehow, I managed to stifle the cry on my lips.
It was Agnes Musoke.
Not until Agnes was led away, sobbing, through the same side door by another gorilla did I feel Danny’s hot breath on the back of my neck. I wanted to ask what he thought he was playing at, disappearing like that, but he put a finger to his lips and I had to settle for an accusing glare.
Predictably, Danny merely grinned, adding insult to injury with a mischievous wink. Next, he crawled over to Shifty and put his mouth to the policeman’s ear. By now, I was beginning to get used to the idea that Shifty was a copper. At the same time, I continued to nurse reservations about the man I could not have put into words.  Moreover, as I watched the pair exchange urgent whispers, I began to feel excluded and resentful. Churlishly, I looked away and pretended to be more interested in what was happening on the stage below.
I did not have to pretend for long.
“Now, here’s a real treat for you gents. Isn’t she gorgeous?” the auctioneer was shouting above more jeers, cheers, and abundant wolf whistles.
Looking very scared and wearing only a pair of black panties and matching bra besides the collar around her neck, Jackie was led across the stage on a leash like a dog being put through its paces by none other than Miles Packard.
 Danny poked me in the ribs and indicated that we were leaving but not to stand up and stay in a crouching position. I had cramp in one of my legs and had to bite my lip to keep from complaining as I struggled to get up while contriving to remain bent double. Shifty was already on his feet and seemed to be waiting to take his cue from Danny. 
Away from the edge of the mezzanine platform, we were in heavy shadow so able to stand up, much to my relief. Danny was well ahead and gingerly opening a door I would never have noticed, it blended so well with the surrounds. Shifty was at his side in seconds. I could only limp towards them as fast as my cramp would permit.
Jackie’s frightened expression continued to haunt me.
The door led to a narrow passage way and another to a flight of wooden steps. Danny was wearing trainers but indicated that Shifty and I should remove our shoes. Shifty nodded approvingly. Although I had misgivings about splinters, I complied anyway and crept down the stairs in my socks, one of which I couldn’t help noticing, had a gaping hole in the big toe.  The ground floor was noisy as well as dusty. It was a relief to sit on the bottom stair and replace my shoes.  I could hear the booming yet slightly squeaky voice of the auctioneer calling for more bids and my heart went out to poor Jackie. Poor Agnes, too, it was all so appalling.
How had the Packards discovered Agnes was in London, I wondered, and where was Teresa?
“Police…!” The cry suddenly went up and was soon being echoed in every direction. All hell broke out. Suddenly there were shouts, several shots and the sound of running footsteps pounding the entire building.
Danny did not hesitate but flung open the door and burst into the room. Shifty close on his heels, was now brandishing a gun.
The room was relatively small but crowded. After the gloom of the passageway, the glare from several 100 watt bulbs in lights dangling from the ceiling made it impossible to focus clearly at first.
Several scantily clad women began screaming.
Shifty and Danny were rolling on the floor, grappling with two men. Why didn’t Shifty use his gun, I wondered?  My vision began to clear.  I saw a third man grab one of the women and head for the door. I recognized the woman as Agnes Musoke and blocked their path.
“Get out of my way!” the burly fellow snarled.
“Let her go and I’ll think about it,” I said. It wasn’t that I was feeling in the least bit brave. I simply opened my mouth and the words tumbled out. Nor did I feel any braver when he produced a gun from his jacket pocket and pointed it at me. “Move, or else…!” he snarled again.
I stood my ground. Agnes leaned across and grabbed the gun. They wrestled for it briefly.
The gun went off. Agnes dropped to the floor.
“You bastard…!” I screamed and tackled the brute in a frenzy that lent me more strength than I would normally have been able to bring to bear against someone so much bigger than me.  In no time at all, however, I was on my back, a huge clenched fist about to come crashing down on my jaw bone.
Another shot rang out. 
My assailant swore loudly and slumped forward, pinioning me to the floor. Blood pouring from his mouth and a stale body smell threatened to overwhelm me. Danny dragged him off me just as I was feeling inclined to surrender to unconsciousness and be rid of this nightmare once and for all.
Shifty was standing by the door, gun in hand, covering the third man. “Don’t be afraid,” he told the terrified women, “The police are here to help you, not make things worse.” It was plain from their expressions that they did not believe him.
The women fled, not in the direction I expected but through another door I hadn’t noticed.
Danny knelt over Agnes and cradled her head in his lap. I joined him. “Where’s Teresa? Tell me. Agnes, please,” he pleaded with the inert form.
“I think she’s dead,” I told him and felt for a pulse. I found one but it was very weak and my eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t write her off just yet, don’t you dare!” Danny sobbed over the beautifully arranged head of black hair.
I opened my mouth to protest then closed it again as Agnes opened her eyes and tried to speak. “Teresa…with Vince…the cellar…a way out…” Her voice tailed away and it quickly became obvious that the lovely eyes staring up at us saw nothing.
“Poor, poor Agnes,” I murmured. “She deserved so much better.”
But Danny had already scrambled to his feet and was yelling at the man at whom Shifty was still pointing the gun. “The cellar, which way?” he yelled.
The man remained sullen and silent.  Before even Shifty realized his intention, Danny had grabbed the gun and was aiming it unflinchingly at the figure pressed against the door. “Either you tell me where the cellar is or I will shoot your fucking head off.”  No one doubted that he meant it.
“Don’t be a fool Danny;” cried Shifty, edging forward. “Give me the gun.”
Danny cocked the weapon.  I winced. I’d forgotten he had become familiar with guns in the shady world from which I had rescued him only a few years ago. “You have five seconds to tell me the quickest way to the cellar,” Danny said in a rasping voice I scarcely recognized. “One…”
“He can’t tell us if he’s dead,” I pointed out.
“Then I’ll find it myself,” Danny retorted. He continued counting, “…two…three…” he paused. “We’re wasting time. Are you going to tell me how to get to the fucking cellar or do I have to kill you? I will, you know. I ain’t bluffing.  Now, where is that cellar? Where has Vince Packard taken Teresa Karmali?” he screamed.
“Ah, but wouldn’t you like to know, eh?” a familiar voice enquired sarcastically from the doorway.
It was Miles Packard. He had a grip on Jackie’s arm and was holding a gun to her head. Almost immediately two armed police officers also appeared.
“Unless everyone drops their guns now, our gender bender friend here is dead meat!” yelled Packard.
“He means it!” cried Jackie. “Danny, please…!”
“He means it alright,” I told Danny. “The man’s a killer, you’re not. Do as he says and put the gun down. He means it, Danny!” I repeated.
“So tell us something we don’t know,” said Shifty somehow managing to sound authoritative, cynical and sympathetic all at the same time.
“Drop the guns…NOW!” Packard repeated, “and you buggers at my back can clear off too or, so help me, I’ll…” he pressed the gun barrel hard against Jackie’s temple.
“Do as he says for God’s sake!” Jackie pleaded.
Danny dropped the gun. It fell with a clatter to the floor. The thug Danny had been threatening to shoot promptly dived and retrieved it.  He pointed it at Danny with a grim, determined expression.
The police in the doorway retreated.
“Now, we’re coming through,” announced Packard coolly, “and if anyone so much as blinks an eye, I’ll blast our Jackie’s brains out. Believe me when I say I’d much rather not but…needs must as the devil drives, yeah?” 
The pair crossed the room to the second door.  I caught Jackie’s eye and mustered what I hoped was a reassuring smile.  Not a muscle in her face moved, she was that petrified.  I guessed she only managed to move at all because Packard was prodding her, the gun barrel now stuck pressed firmly against her rib cage. 
They reached the door.
Packard pushed Jackie heavily forward. She staggered, stumbled and crashed into Danny. Both went flying.
The third henchman lunged at Danny’s head with his foot. Danny let out a yelp. The same foot lashed out again. This time, Danny made no response. “Leave him Daisy and get yourself over here!” Packard told the henchman.
Hearing the burly fellow addressed as ‘Daisy’ stuck me as inordinately funny and I burst out laughing. For a split second, I was the centre of attention. It was long enough. Even Packard was momentarily distracted and oblivious to the door behind him opening slowly.
The sight of Philip standing there with a gun in his hand was like having ice cold water thrown in my face. I recovered my composure immediately.
“Drop the gun Packard,” said Philip in a strong but quiet voice that seemed to have a calming effect on everyone. Everyone, that is, except Packard. He did not hesitate but swung round, caught Philip a glancing blow and rushed past him. Philip quickly recovered his balance and ran after him.
Before I realized what was happening, Danny had made an amazing recovery, scrambled to his feet and lunged at the beefy henchman. Again, they grappled with the gun. But Danny made the most of the element of surprise. He soon had the upper hand.  In no time at all, their roles were reversed and Danny had recovered the gun.  Only, on this occasion he did not waste time pointing it but brought it crashing down against one side of the man’s head, rendering him unconscious.  Before the rest of us barely had time to catch our breaths, he had dashed off, waving the gun wildly and shouting Teresa’s name.
I caught Jackie’s eye. “Well, don’t just stand there,” she half yelled, half sobbed, “Go after him, the pair of you, before he does something stupid.”
Shifty and I gave chase.  Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw several police officers storm into the room so could at least be sure Jackie was now in safe hands.  Only fleetingly did my thoughts turn to Agnes Musoke’s untimely end and I hated myself for brushing them aside. There would be time enough for grief later.
I could only assume footsteps pounding after me belonged to the police but did not look back. Instead I focused on Shifty who was already racing well ahead.
By the time I reached an exit leading into the yard, there was no sign of him, Philip or Miles Packard. Frantically, I tried to recall the instructions that Shifty had given me earlier. My relief on reaching the gate knew no bounds.  Once in the street, I looked in all directions but still no sign of them. I took a chance and ran straight ahead, pausing at a junction to look again.  I spotted a running figure in the distance I thought was Shifty and hared after it.
By the time I reached the next junction, the only people in sight were a couple walking hand in hand some distance away in the opposite direction.  I was about to run on when a sixth sense caused me to take another look.  There was something unnatural about the way the couple were walking, sometimes quickly, sometimes much slower... as if they were out of breath perhaps? At the same time, something about the silhouettes struck a chord.  Yes, they were holding hands but the figure I took to me a man seemed to be urging is companion on or…yes, he was all but dragging her and she was resisting.
The penny dropped. It was Vince Packard and…could it be Teresa?
They turned a corner. I ran as fast as I could.  At the same corner, I lurched to a painful stop. My cramp had returned. Then I spotted them on the other side of the road. 
Packard was tugging at the doors of cars. On finding one that was open, he pushed Teresa (by now I was convinced it was her) into the back seat.  I heard a door slam then an engine revving. The next thing I knew, the car was heading towards me.
Fortunately, I did not have time to think or I would never have found the nerve to dash into the road, arms flung wide, directly in the oncoming vehicle’s path. Not until the very last minute did it veer madly across the road, go into a skid and finally crash into lamp-post.
In spite of my cramp, I loped towards the crash scene as fast as I could.
Smoke was pouring from the bonnet. Teresa’s face was pressed imploringly against the window. I tugged at the door handle. It would not give. I ripped off my shirt and wrapped my right hand in it. Gesturing my intention to Teresa, I smashed it against the rear window. Somehow, although bleeding profusely and obviously in shock, she remained alert to the immediate danger, took my hand and let me assist her to climb out of the car to safety.
It transpired that we only had seconds to spare. I had barely dragged her a few yards when the force of an explosion sent us sprawling.
By the time we had crawled to the opposite pavement and were sat with our backs to a low wall, a small crowd had gathered. The police, too, arrived within minutes.  I tried to take in the scene but everything was no more than a blur. My cramp was considerably worse. My head was throbbing and a ringing in my ears hurt something rotten.
I became aware of someone kneeling beside me and a voice demanding not unkindly, “Are you alright?”
Why, I wondered, did people invariably ask that question to other people who were clearly not alright? I did my damnedest to focus properly. The blur cleared sufficiently to make out Shifty’s concerned expression. I nodded. “Teresa?” I croaked.
“I’m fine. At least, I think so.” It was Teresa herself who answered and squeezed my hand as she spoke. “I ache all over and there seems to be a lot of blood is coming from somewhere but, yes, I’m fine.”
“Don’t try to talk Miss,” a voice I did not recognize broke through the persistent ringing in my ears. I did not even try to look and see who it was but became aware of some movement beside me. The hand, though, did not relinquish its hold on mine.
“Philip, Miles…Danny?” I spluttered.
Shifty merely shrugged.
I must have drifted in and out of consciousness briefly. I wasn’t aware of the scene having changed substantially when a voice I recognized at once reached me from a distance.
“Hey, Dad, are you okay?”
I turned my head in the direction from which it came and saw Danny wrestling with two policemen.
“Let him through!” I heard Shifty shout.
Danny raced towards us. Our eyes met only briefly before his widened in astonishment and joy upon recognizing Teresa. He reminded me of a child opening a birthday present. Danny dropped to his knees. Teresa let go of my hand. Danny seized both our free hands, tears pouring down his face.  I looked past him to the burning wreck all but wrapped round a lamp-post. It was one birthday present Vince Packard could have done without, I reflected without an ounce of compassion.
“Laurie, thank God you’re safe!” It was Philip’s voice that now penetrated my semi-conscious state and held my attention.  I looked up and peered though a smoky haze. He was looking down at me .his features drawn and etched with stress.
“Miles…?” I asked.
“In custody,” said Philip.
“You got your man then. Congratulations,” I managed to say through a fit of coughing.
Philip gave me a pained, quizzical look and went on, “Ralph will soon be under lock and key too, along with a good few other bastards. All in all, I’d say it’s been a good result. It will be a long time before the Packards will be going on any pleasure trip.”
“There’s one that won’t, that’s for sure,” I said and my gaze turned yet again on the wreck opposite. Fire fighters with hoses were now extinguishing the flames. I began to puzzle over why I hadn’t heard the fire engine arrive.
“Laurie, oh, Laurie…!” Ryan Banks was now kneeling beside me in tears. He seized my hand and lifted it to his cheek. A sweet gesture, I thought and even felt like laughing when I saw Philip scowl.
I looked turned my head. Danny was cradling Teresa in his arms. They seemed blissfully unaware of anyone or anything but each other.  Taking my time I looked from one to the other of the faces surrounding me.  Shifty grinned, waved and walked away. I reminded myself that I must find out his name. I can’t keep thinking of him as ‘Shifty’ for heaven’s sake.
I looked from Ryan to Philip and back again. As I did so, I realized that I had just made my choice between the two men.  If I’d suspected I already had, now I knew for certain. I did love Philip and always would. The trouble was I loved Ryan more. I glanced at Philip and could see he had read my mind. His hurt expression cut me to the quick. He turned abruptly on his heels and hurried after Shifty.
My mother always used to say that a decision once made is a burden lifted. Why then, I wondered, was there such a weight bearing down on me? 
Even as I gazed fondly at Ryan’s tear-stained face and squeezed the hand still holding mine, a shudder, not unlike an orgasm, passed through my whole body. Another saying to which my mother had been known to allude now and then sprung involuntarily to mind.
I felt as if someone had just walked over my grave.

To be continued on Monday