Page 92 of One Left Alive
Twenty-five minutes later he turned into the drive of the fancy house Morgan rented the ground floor flat in. She was awake because all of her lights were on; that was good. He pressed the doorbell and heard the chime echo around the communal hallway. She didn’t answer. He realised it was late, and if he had credit on his phone he’d have phoned her and asked her to let him in.
Trudging around to the huge window that looked into her lounge, he pressed his face against the glass and saw a scene out of a horror film. There was a teenage boy in there, Morgan was on the floor and she looked… Oh God, his heart began to race. She wasn’t moving. His hands were shaking; he couldn’t get in to help her.
Pulling out his ancient Nokia, he dialled 999 – thank God that was free – and asked for police.
‘You have to come, I think he’s trying to kill her.’
‘What’s the address, sir?’
‘I don’t know the name, it’s a large house on Singleton Park Road; it’s turned into flats. You have to hurry, I can’t get in to help her.’ He ended the call.
The teenager was looping a length of fabric around Morgan’s neck. Stan hammered on the glass, startling him, and he rushed to look outside. Stan realised it was difficult because her lights were on and he stepped to one side so he couldn’t see him. The teenager drew the curtains across, blocking his view of what was happening inside and a sense of panic filled his chest. Looking around, he spied a huge rockery stone; that would do it.
The rock was slippery with the rain and coated with moss, but he managed to heave it up.
Stumbling forwards towards the window, he lifted it as high as he could and launched it at the glass. The sound as it cracked against the glass was ear-splitting and then shards of glass were flying everywhere. One embedded itself in his cheek, and he tore it out, not caring, and threw himself through the jagged, gaping hole. Landing heavily on one leg with a crash on the other side, he felt a sharp pain as another shard of glass sliced through the paper-thin flesh.
But they’d gone.
The front door was open and he pulled himself up, limping towards it.
Dripping rainwater and blood everywhere, he followed them out into the communal area.
Fifty-Seven
Amy drove fast on a good day, but tonight she was reckless and Ben was grateful to her for getting to his in a matter of minutes. They didn’t speak. His hands were shaking as he repeatedly tried to phone Morgan.
‘Boss, ring it in.’
‘What if it’s nothing and I’m freaking out?’
‘Then you have to live with the shame for a couple of days. No biggie, you’ve done worse.’
He dialled 999. ‘It’s DS Matthews, I need backup at 1 Singleton Park Road. Concern for welfare.’
‘We already have a patrol on its way. We had a request a couple of minutes ago.’
‘By who, the occupant?’
‘A man, he hung up without giving his details.’
Amy looked at Ben, shaking her head. ‘Shit.’ She put her foot down and drove even faster.
Before they knew it she was speeding through the drive, gravel underneath her tyres spraying everywhere. There was a gaping hole where Morgan’s huge window had been. Ben got out and ran towards it, Amy following behind. The howling wind and rain were making the curtains flap in and out of the broken window. He pushed one to the side to go in.
‘Careful, boss, someone has already hurt themselves.’
He looked down to where she was pointing, to see a trail of bright red blood, and his stomach clenched so hard he thought he was going to be sick. Then he was inside, stepping around the blood. There was shouting coming from the hallway. Sirens could be heard in the background and Ben was glad he’d phoned.
As he stepped into the hall he was greeted by utter carnage. Morgan’s lifeless body was hanging from the wooden balustrade leading up to the first floor, and at the bottom of the stairs a badly bleeding Stan was grappling with Harrison Wright.
Amy ran up the stairs to grab Morgan’s arms and Ben put his shoulders under her feet, taking the weight off the noose around her neck. Amy deftly untied the knot and lowered her onto Ben’s shoulders.
‘Have you got her?’
‘Yes.’
She ran down the stairs as two officers ran out of Morgan’s front door. They looked at the carnage and ran to where Harrison was still trying to get away from Stan. Amy helped Ben lower Morgan to the ground. She shouted at the officers who had separated the two fighting men. ‘Ambulance now.’
