no good at all. I turned the phone on and left it for a moment until the beep signaled that I had a new message. I dialed the voice-mail number.
“Yeah, this is a message for Cathy Bailey. It’s Sandra Lloyd at the Camden PPU. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been in touch with Lancaster and they are going to send someone out to check up on Mr. Brightman. I haven’t heard back from them yet but I’ll let you know when I get an answer. All right, bye for now.”
I knew it was no use—by the time they located him, enough time would have passed for him to make it back to Lancaster.
As I walked slowly around the parking lot, enjoying the sunshine, and wondering what time Stuart would be home from work, my phone rang. “Hello?”
“Cathy? It’s DC Lloyd here. Did you get my message?”
“Yes, thank you. Have you heard any more?”
“Lancaster just called back. They’ve been to check on his home address but there’s nobody there. The woman I spoke to said she saw him yesterday, though, and he didn’t mention that he had any plans to go to London. Were you certain that it was him that you saw?”
How could I answer that? No, I wasn’t sure, but at the same time I’m not mad either. I wasn’t seeing things.
“I’m not a hundred percent certain, no.”
“I think it’s very unlikely—after all, does he know you’re in London? Does he know where you work?”
“I hope not.”
“Thing is, he’s not under any license conditions, which means that technically he’s free to go anywhere he likes without supervision. My colleagues in Lancaster can check up on him from time to time, but they can’t keep harassing him if he hasn’t done anything to warrant it.”
“He nearly killed me,” I said, my voice coming from a long way away.
Sandra Lloyd had a tone of voice that suggested she was sympathetic most of the time. “Yes, but that was a long time ago. Chances are he’s moved on, in more ways than one. Now I know Lancaster will be keeping an eye on him as best they can, so try not to worry.”
“Yes,” I said, lamely, “thank you.”
I wasn’t even surprised. They hadn’t believed me last time; there was no reason at all why they should believe me now.
If it wasn’t him, and I was just having spectacularly real hallucinations, then I was just going to have to learn to deal with them until I was better. If it was him, then I wasn’t going to be able to prove all by myself that he wasn’t back up in Lancaster being a good boy.
I was going to have to wait for the moment he decided to reveal his cards, and I was going to need to be ready to play his game.
When I got back to the office, Caroline had her jacket on.
“Come on,” she said, “we’re getting out of here.”
“Are we?” I said. My headache was making it difficult to focus.
“We are. We need to get out of this place, come on.”
We walked out of the main entrance and around the corner to the pub just by the entrance to the business park. It was busy with office workers having a drink, but we managed to find a table at the back by the kitchen. It was dark back here.
Caroline put our drinks on the table. “You look completely wasted,” she said.
I laughed. “Thank God for that.”
“Seriously,” she said, “what’s wrong?”
I looked at her face, my friend, the only friend I really had here in London, apart from Stuart.
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“I’ve got time.”
I took a deep breath. This was so difficult. Telling this story never got any easier. I felt tears, tiredness, exhaustion, fought them all. I wasn’t going to break down, not here.
“Four years ago, the man I was with attacked me and almost killed me. He was arrested and, after a long investigation and a court case, he was sentenced to three years in jail.”
“My God,” she said. “You poor girl. You poor, poor girl.”
“I moved to London because I knew he’d be out soon enough, and that he’d come after me. That’s why I’m here.”
“Was this where you were before, then? Lancaster, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. I wanted to be far away when he was released. Just in case he decided to come looking for me.”
Caroline looked alarmed.
“Do you think he will?”
I gave this a bit of serious consideration. There was no way