The Magpies A Psychological Thriller - By Mark Edwards Page 0,111

she had gone to tell Lucy and Chris what he planned to do; that she was colluding with them. A minute later she came back, and he realised he was being paranoid and ridiculous. She had Brian with her.

Jamie stood up and Brian said, ‘Mary’s just explained everything to me. I just feel sorry that I didn’t know about it before.’

Jamie shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘You should have told us, Jamie. We might have been able to help.’

‘I didn’t know you well enough, and anyway, nobody I told ever believed me. Apart from a friend at work.’ Yes, and his attempts to help had ended disastrously.

Brian nodded. ‘We’re here to help you now. We don’t want people like that living in these flats. It makes me feel ill. I quite understand your need to gather evidence, so’ – he looked at the ceiling – ‘as much as it will pain me to have those people eating from our plates and drinking from our cups, Linda and I will invite them to dinner. We’ve always got on alright with them. Obviously, we’re lucky that we don’t live in the flat directly above them.’

Jamie took hold of Brian’s hand and shook it. ‘Thank you so much.’

Mary said, ‘How will you get into the flat?’

‘I don’t know. I can’t break in because I don’t want them to know I’ve been in there.’

‘I think we can help on that score too,’ Brian said. ‘An elderly couple used to live in the basement flat.’

‘Mr and Mrs Chambers,’ said Mary.

‘Yes, and Linda and I were very good friends with them. It was very sad: Mr Chambers died and Mrs Chambers ended up in a home. Anyway, they were quite forgetful – a bit of a scatty old couple, actually. They locked themselves out a couple of times. In the end, they gave me a key in case they did it again. I’ve still got it. I know I should have given it back when they moved out, but I forgot. Luckily.’

‘Problem solved,’ said Mary.

‘Assuming the Newtons accept our dinner invitation.’

Jamie waited while Brian went upstairs and looked for the key. A few minutes later he returned and handed it to Jamie. ‘I just hope they haven’t changed the locks. If you go back to your flat now, I’ll call you and let you know if they’ve accepted the invitation.’

‘OK.’

Before he left, Mary hugged him. ‘We’ll sort this out for you, Jamie. Don’t you worry.’

Later that evening, the phone rang. It was Brian.

‘It’s all set,’ he said. ‘They were delighted to accept. I told them we’d planned a dinner party, even bought all the ingredients, and then our friends had dropped out. They didn’t seem to mind that they were last minute replacements.’

‘So when is it?’

‘Tomorrow night. Seven-thirty.’

Twenty-eight

They had worked out a series of signs. When Lucy and Chris arrived at the top flat, Linda would stamp twice on the kitchen floor. Hearing this, Mary would then ring Jamie, letting the phone ring twice before hanging up. That was his cue.

He sat beside the phone, every muscle in his body tense.

The phone rang. Once, twice. Went dead.

He picked up the key that Brian had given him. His arms felt weak. But there was no way he was going to back out. This had to be done. Chris was a murderer; Lucy his accomplice. Jamie was the only person who could do something about it. He wasn’t really thinking about justice, or the greater good. He wasn’t even thinking about revenge. He merely wanted his life back.

He had decided to wait five minutes before going downstairs. He could imagine Lucy and Chris getting up there then realising they had forgotten something: a bottle of red wine perhaps.. He’d be in the flat and they would come down and find him. He shuddered at the thought.

He watched the clock for five minutes, counting every second, part of him hoping Lucy or Chris would come down the stairs so he wouldn’t have to go through with this. He forced himself to get a grip.

The five minutes were up. He walked out into the hallway, closing the flat door quietly behind him. He opened the front door, gripping the basement flat key firmly in his sweaty palm. It was dark. He had thought about this: it would be OK to turn the lights on in the flat. Lucy and Chris were well out of the way. Unless they leaned out of Brian and Linda’s front window and peered down, they would never