The Split - Sharon Bolton Page 0,96

Shane takes care of her.’

‘Shane’s a man,’ someone says. ‘How can she turn into a man?’

‘The alters can appear to be very different to the host,’ Torquil says. ‘They believe themselves to be different ages, sexes, races and act accordingly. They can have different levels of sight or hearing. One alter can be a very fast runner. Another might believe he can’t possibly drive. One might speak a foreign language. I know this sounds far-fetched but there is so much about this condition we don’t yet understand.’

‘Remember how convinced you were that Shane was a man,’ Joe says. ‘He fooled the experts you brought in. When she’s Shane, she completely believes she’s a young man with that name.’

‘None of this changes the fact that whoever she believed she was at the time, Felicity murdered Dora Hardwick and Bella Barnes,’ Downey says.

‘Not necessarily,’ Joe argues. ‘We know Felicity and Shane are the same person, but we don’t know that Shane killed Dora and Bella. Shane stood in my bedroom while I was asleep, with a knife that could have slit my throat. He didn’t touch me.’

‘Joe, there’s something you need to know,’ Delilah says.

‘What?’

‘We found blood on Dora’s coat that isn’t hers. It is Felicity’s. There is no doubt that she and Dora had a close encounter the night Dora died. She may not know it, love, but she is a killer.’

‘And a very dangerous woman indeed,’ Downey adds.

‘She’s only dangerous when she’s Shane,’ Torquil says. ‘When she’s Felicity, she probably wouldn’t harm a fly.’

‘So, what is it you want from us?’ Downey says.

‘You can’t send a team of strange police officers and soldiers to arrest Felicity,’ Joe says. ‘She won’t have a clue what’s going on and it will terrify her. She’ll almost certainly become Shane—’

‘Or someone even worse,’ Torquil interrupts.

‘And someone will get hurt. Probably her.’

‘What’s the alternative?’ Downey asks.

‘Send someone she knows and trusts,’ Joe says. ‘Send my mother. And me.’

Part Four

SOUTH GEORGIA

Present Day

‘I seemed to vow to myself that someday I would go to the region of ice and snow.’

Ernest Shackleton

65

Joe

The windows of the harbour master’s office look out towards emerald hills tumbling into an azure blue ocean. Joe can see a waterfall like a silver ribbon, slicing a snow-tipped summit in half, and the rusting carcass of a wrecked steam ship stranded in the bay. On the northern horizon, a berg lies like a fallen mountain and the air above it is alive with seabirds.

The eardrum-splitting cacophony of noise has softened since he, Delilah and Superintendent Skye McNair have come indoors, but even through the reinforced glass Joe can hear the bird screams and the grunting of seals. All the while, the wind uses the building and its surrounds as musical instruments: whistling, singing, moaning. Every few minutes, the structure trembles as a stronger gust hits it.

South Georgia is incredible. In spite of everything, Joe feels a moment of joy that he’s been able to share it – albeit briefly – with Felicity. And yet, darker clouds are rolling in from the west, as though to remind him that nothing good can come from this visit. He’ll see her again, and his mother will arrest her for murder.

The pre-fab exterior of King Edward Point’s administrative centre hasn’t prepared him for the scale of the technology on the inside. The harbour master’s desk, close to one of two huge windows, holds four large computer screens, each showing satellite images of different points on the islands. A further monitor on another desk shows a constantly updating weather report, and a screen hanging from the ceiling displays the visiting ship’s it itinerary. Noticeboards hold tide tables, work schedules, equipment requisitions.

The man who introduced himself as Nigel and who revels in the combined titles of harbour master, fisheries officer, post master and tourism manager is making coffee. As he adds milk and sugar, he chats to Superintendent McNair about events on the Falkland Islands. Joe is only half listening. Sick with nerves himself, he is anxious about his mother. Delilah, at his side, is slumped in a chair. The seasickness that has plagued her since they left Stanley isn’t letting a detail like solid land get in its way.

‘How did Rob Duncan’s hip operation work out?’ Nigel is asking. ‘They were flying him out when I left.’

Skye pulls a face. ‘He was seen on horseback last week. Rachel went nuts.’ She glances over at Joe. ‘Oldest resident of the Falkland Islands. Drives us all to distraction.’ Turning back to Nigel