It was after six when we finally crawled back into bed, the soft coppery streaks of dawn beginning to light up the sky. I fell asleep to the sound of birds trilling, and suddenly I was back there, in our apartment in Chiswick, in our old bedroom. The room was dim, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlights outside, and there was a strange, metallic odour in the air. I moved slowly across the small space, a sick, hollow feeling in my stomach, my palms damp, my legs leaden; when I reached the end of the bed I stopped, aware that I was clutching something hard and cold in my right hand, and stared at the motionless thing that lay there on the mattress, still and silent in a dark pool of something viscous and sticky.
‘Danny,’ I whispered. ‘Danny.’
But he didn’t reply, didn’t move. I looked down then, down at my hands, and realized that it wasn’t sweat that was making my palms clammy. It was blood. My hands were covered in blood, and the thing I was holding was a knife.
Chapter 30
The egg whistled through the air and smashed against the door, inches from Devon’s left ear. He ducked back inside as a roar went up from the crowd gathered on the pavement outside.
‘Shit!’ he said. ‘Why the hell is it taking so long to get this lot under control?’
‘They’re on their way. Shouldn’t be long now. And I did tell you not to go out there.’
Helena was leaning against the counter in the reception area, the grim expression she’d been wearing since she’d arrived, dressed in hastily thrown on sweatpants and hoodie, replaced briefly with a wry smile.
‘Should listen to you more often. Nearly took my eye out. Do they really have nothing better to do on a Sunday morning?’ said Devon, running a hand down the lapels of his dark blue jacket, checking for splashes. No sweatpants for him, despite the unexpected call to work, Helena thought. Dapper as always.
‘And what a waste of food. The whole front of the building’s covered in flour and egg yolk. We could make pancakes.’
She rolled her eyes.
‘Is there ever a single minute when you’re not thinking about your stomach? Anyway, I’m going back upstairs. You staying to watch the show?’
‘Yeah. For a few minutes. From the window, though. Not going out there again.’
‘Good. Come up when you’re done, OK? This has gone too far now. We need a plan.’
She headed for the stairs. Reinforcements were on their way, and the fifty or so protestors who’d begun to gather outside the station an hour ago would soon be sent on their way. Mostly young men, some had been waving placards bearing slogans written in large, red capital letters, streaky as if daubed in blood.
KILLER ON THE LOOSE AND THE COPS DON’T CARE
HOW MANY MORE OF US HAVE TO DIE?
They’d brought the press with them too, several photographers and three TV satellite trucks – those from Sky, ITV and BBC News – all arriving minutes after the first flour bomb hit the front door. There’d been no real damage done – a few buckets of water and a scrubbing brush would soon return the fa?ade of the building to its usual, tatty but cleanish state – and there were unlikely to be any arrests. But Helena was already bracing herself for the phone call she knew was inevitable as soon as DCS Anna Miller heard about the fracas. The city was getting far too restless, and there was little Miller hated more than bad publicity, and her beloved police force being accused of not being up to the job. She’d be demanding answers, and making threats, and as Helena had driven to the station earlier, leaving a resigned Charlotte to finish her Sunday morning avocado on toast alone, she’d already started planning her response.
‘It’s time to stop pussyfooting around,’ she said out loud, as she sat down in her chair and turned her computer on. Nobody responded; the incident room was empty, the team having been given a much-needed day off. Helena knew Devon needed time off too – hell, she was pretty desperate for some herself, and some quality time with her wife – but this wouldn’t take long. Two hours, tops. Because, she thought, enough was finally enough. As soon as Devon came up to join her, they’d go through everything they had on Gemma O’Connor, starting with the latest piece of evidence – the statement Quinn O’Connor