Page 61 of Dying Breath
‘I don’t even know where that is.’
Colin shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. I think it’s those posh new detached houses past the old asylum.’
Mattie felt as if his world had been turned upside down and he was reliving the same day from six months ago.
‘Oh, and Mattie? Andy reckons that it’s possible she’s gone round there for…’
‘For what?’
Col paused, embarrassed to be speaking like this about Lucy because it wasn’t her style, but he thought that it was only fair to warn them in case they did rush in to rescue her and she was pinned to the bed underneath Patrick of her own free will. It happened – there had been plenty of officers who’d spent their shift sleeping around when they should have been solving crimes.
‘For sex.’
Mattie wondered if he’d heard Col right. Browning ended the call for him. He glanced in the rear-view mirror at Toby, who looked as if he were going to cry. Then he looked at Mattie and realised that if he thought the kid in the back was upset, Mattie was positively crushed.
‘Look – so what if she has? She’s a grown woman. I just don’t think she would, though; Lucy would never be so unprofessional in working time. It’s fine to bear it in mind, but I still think she’d be in touch.’ Just to prove his point, he dialled her number and it went straight to answerphone.
Chapter Fifty-Five
A loud thud on the ceiling above her made Lucy open her eyes. She blinked, not recognising the room around her. The rough cotton material that had been tied tightly around her mouth made her gag. Trying to move her arms and legs, she couldn’t, and was wondering what had happened to her until she felt the coarse rope tighten against her skin. She looked around the empty room until her gaze fell on the stack of cardboard packing boxes, and she felt panic flood her chest. It was Patrick: she was at his house and he was the killer.
There was another loud thud, followed by the sound of something heavy being dragged along the floor upstairs. She had to get out of here before he came back down. Twisting her arms and legs to try to loosen the ropes, she did her best not to cry out as they burnt into her flesh. She rolled off the sofa onto the hard oak floor with a thump and felt the bile rise in the back of her throat. She knew she couldn’t be sick with the gag around her mouth; she’d choke to death. She lay still, waiting to see if he would come running back down, but he didn’t – he carried on dragging whatever or whoever it was.
She looked for a weapon, something she could use to cut the ropes free. In the movies there was always a piece of glass or a knife to hand, but as she frantically searched the room, snapping her head from side to side, she wanted to scream. There wasn’t so much as a speck of dust. This room was nothing but an empty shell. She shuffled over towards the boxes, praying there would be something inside them she could use to free herself.
* * *
Patrick rolled Waite’s body into the bedsheet and was dragging him towards the stairs; there was no way he was carrying him. Considering that he was nothing but skin and bones, he was still bloody heavy. He’d just have to roll him down to the garage. He couldn’t carry out his original plan, which had been to get him into the drum of acid and leave him in the car park of the police station. For one thing, it would have to be in the early hours of the morning when the station was dead, and for another, there was the problem of Lucy. He also hadn’t taken into account the sheer weight of the drum when it was half full of sulphuric acid, along with the mass of a dead body. Christ, the Incredible Hulk would struggle to lift it.
If she didn’t call in soon, that fool whom she so clearly liked would be out searching for her, along with the rest of the station. He had no idea who she might have told about him, or that she was coming here. What he would have to do is to dump Waite’s body in the acid in the garage and just leave him. He could grab his suitcase and use the van to escape; he supposed that Lucy would be fine if he left her tied up here. He was pretty sure she would use her own devices to get rescued. If not – well, she wouldn’t have died at his hands, would she? It would be a tragic accident. He let go of the sheet and stood up straight, his back clicking. He was getting too old for this; he shouldn’t have left it so late to kill Waite. He could have been long gone and avoided all of this mess.
* * *
Mattie drove as fast as he could in the unmarked Ford Focus with no lights or sirens to clear the traffic for them. He’d never been honked at so much in his life as he’d turned onto the promenade. Browning was busy on the phone and Toby was sitting on the back seat with his eyes wide open, staring in horror as the world passed by in a blur.
Mattie cleared his throat. ‘What’s the plan of action when we get there – shouldn’t we have armed officers attending?’ He didn’t take his eyes off the road; he waited for Browning to answer his question.
‘Yes, they’re on the way. From a job on the M6 north-bound – they’ll be around twenty-five minutes.’
‘You’re having me on?’
‘We do, however, have a couple of Taser-trained officers making their way over; they might get there before we do, although they don’t really know what’s going on and we don’t want to storm in if we’ve got it wrong. Lucy would never forgive either of us – you know that, don’t you?’
Mattie nodded. ‘It’s a small price to pay.’
Toby looked at the two men, a grudging respect for them emerging from the anger that had filled his chest. They didn’t care about their own safety; all they cared about was Lucy’s, which was nice. He had always wondered how it must feel to be part of a team, where none of them would think twice about putting their lives on the line to help a colleague. And now he knew, he was glad to be a part of it.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Lucy reached the stack of boxes and pushed against them with her feet. There was something inside one of them. Pushing it over with her feet she stared at the two pairs of stilettos which fell out. A muddy white pair, with dried blood on them and a shiny, black pair. All her hope and anticipation washed away and for the first time she considered the implications of the situation she was in. Patrick was a serial killer who didn’t like mess or blood very much, yet he was preparing to put her into a drum full of acid. She followed the beam of sunlight that was warming her cold skin and looked towards the huge bay windows. There was plenty of glass; she just needed to figure out how to break it. There was no way she would die here in his house, murdered by him. She’d throw herself out of the window and take her chances with a severed artery before she’d let him touch her. It didn’t matter if she bled to death; it was far better to die trying than to lie here and wait for him to finish her off and dissolve her in a steel drum full of acid.
She began the job of shuffling towards the windows. She heard the noise of something being rolled down the stairs and wondered what it was – Patrick had clearly been busy when she’d interrupted him. He was going to be really pissed off with her for disturbing him. Then she remembered her phone and almost screeched with delight. Instead she choked on the material fastened around her mouth. But she didn’t care; she remembered that she’d been mid-conversation with Col. When Patrick had cut her off, surely Col would have sent the team out looking for her. If she sat tight they might come and find her before she had to jump. Poor Mattie would be furious with her for going off on her own. She’d been the one worrying about them and it had been her who had walked straight into the thick of it. She hoped they hadn’t given Toby too much of a hard time; they’d been wrong about him and he had potential. He’d make a great detective, even if he was a little odd. That she could cope with – murderous intent she couldn’t.
It suddenly struck her that she’d never even tried to open the door; Patrick might not have locked it. She could be shuffling her way out of here right this minute. She began the painstaking series of small movements that would take her back towards the door and her possible freedom.
* * *
Mattie turned into the quiet street and felt his heart drop to see Lucy’s car parked further along. He wanted her to be safe. He also didn’t want to rush in there and find her in a compromising situation with Patrick, because he didn’t love her like Mattie did. They heard the sound of approaching sirens and Mattie picked up his radio. ‘Whoever that is, turn the bloody sirens off: silent approach.’
