‘Do you remember when you were first moved into this cell?’ Alex asked.
Emma nodded eagerly, as though waiting for something to make that one hurtful comment go away.
‘Do you remember how I let you talk and talk about yourself and your kids and how much you love them and all your regrets blah, blah, blah?’
‘Yes, you were listening to support me.’
Alex laughed. ‘I was listening for your pressure points. I was looking for your vulnerabilities, your skills, your asset value, your worth. I was listening to see how you would benefit me.’
Emma’s mouth dropped open. ‘But you were interested. You cared.’
Alex laughed. Oh dear, the woman’s delusion as to the nature of their relationship was worse than she’d thought. It would be a frivolous diversion to set her straight.
‘I could not care less about you, Emma. I am not the slightest bit interested in your mundane life, annoying kids, husband or your next-door neighbour’s cat. I lied, I deceived and pretended to like you so I could see your value and, to your credit, I found some useful qualities I could use.
‘It was immediately clear to me that you were easily led and eager to serve. You are so used to looking after people on the outside. A fine quality in your home life and a totally exploitable trait for me. You wanted someone to follow around, to help, and so I did you a favour by being that person. I gave you a purpose. You were happy to run off and do all the little errands. It’s no bad thing. It’s your personality type.’
‘But I thought we were friends.’
Again, Alex laughed. ‘I don’t have friends. I don’t want them or need them. I need assets, tools, grunts that are useful to help me get what I want. And to be fair, you have been useful. Your invisibility amongst these women has meant that I’ve found out much more information than I ever could have gained on my own. Your need to gossip has brought me knowledge on other assets that I’ve been able to exploit. Do you see how this works now?’
Emma’s crestfallen expression told her that the woman was waiting for the punchline, that she was still hoping that it was some kind of joke.
Alex sighed. You tried to be honest with people and it wasn’t worth it. Some people didn’t want the truth if it wasn’t a truth they liked.
Yes, Alex could have left Emma thinking they were good friends. The woman would have been none the wiser, but where would have been the fun in that?
Alex could see Emma’s lower lip trembling.Oh, Jesus, save me from the frailties of human emotion.
Alex stood and saw there was still hope in Emma’s eyes.
She shook her head and carried on down to breakfast.
Seventy-One
‘What exactly are you hoping to achieve?’ Alison asked as they gathered around the computer screen.
‘Let’s watch and find out,’ Kim said as Stacey entered the interview room.
Kate Swift had arrived ten minutes earlier, and both she and her client were seated in silence.
Harte eyed Stacey suspiciously.
‘I’m Detective Constable Stacey Wood and you’ve already met Detective Sergeant Bryant.’
‘Where is Det—’
‘Please wait one minute,’ Stacey said, holding up her hand.
Kim watched as Stacey stared at the tape recorder for a second as though remembering how to use it. She then pressed the wrong button, realised her mistake, began the tape recording and reminded him of the reason for the interview.
‘Okay, Mr Harte, you have a question.’
‘Where is Detective Inspector Stone?’
‘I’m sorry but she had to be somewhere more imp…er…urgent so I will be leading the questioning this morning.’
‘His lawyer is pleased about that,’ Alison observed.