Laura was taken into a room at the police station, away from the front window and the growing clamour outside. She was following Nell, with Mike behind her, and when she went into the room she saw Tony leaning against the wall.
He was quiet, seemed subdued. When he looked up, he was expressionless.
Laura walked over. ‘It’s good to see you, Tony,’ she whispered in his ear.
He shook his head. ‘Glen Ross is dead,’ he said.
Laura’s eyes went wide with shock. ‘What happened?’
Tony looked towards Nell and saw her nod. He looked back towards Laura and said simply, ‘I played the recording.’
‘What, and it killed him? The shock? Heart attack?’
Tony shook his head. ‘I wish it was that simple.’ He sighed. ‘He blew his brains out, Laura.’
Laura was silent again for a few moments. She was tinkering with her conscience, but there was nothing there. She tugged at her lip. ‘If he’d been less of a coward ten years ago, maybe things would have been different.’
Tony sighed. ‘I saw a man die this morning. Go easy.’
Laura rubbed her eyes. She was tired. ‘Last night, I was chased by a madman,’ she said. ‘He tried to kill Jack, maybe me as well. I have a few awkward questions to answer now, because I went along with Jack when I should have brought him in, and I was almost killed by Liza Radley. All of this because Glen Ross did nothing about a dead girl ten years ago. I’m feeling pretty strung out right now, so no, I don’t feel like going easy. I just wish he’d hung around to answer some questions.’
Tony said nothing.
‘Don’t you feel the same, Tony?’
He looked up at Laura. Then he gave a thin smile. ‘Maybe I do, in my own way. I just wish he hadn’t done it in front of me.’
Laura said nothing, but she understood.
Then they both looked over as Nell coughed.
‘Sorry to split you two up, but we need to talk.’
Tony and Laura exchanged glances, and then they both grimaced. They each hoped their stories came out right.
David Watts was hurtling into town, bouncing out of dips in the road, his eyes shining with anger, his mouth set fixed and firm. He kept on checking his rear-view mirror, sure he was being followed, checking out colours and makes, seeing if they were keeping up.
He jumped when his phone rang. He looked down at the passenger seat. The phone was flashing green, ringing out. He snapped out a hand and put it to his ear.
‘Yeah?’
‘Here she is, David.’
‘I’m on my way to kill you,’ he snarled.
‘Good. I’m waiting for you.’
Then the earpiece went silent. He was about to throw the phone down when a voice came on that he recognised. ‘David, David, help me.’
It was Emma. His breaths sank to nothing, his mind slowed down. He had thought it was just a bluff.
‘Emma?’
‘David, please help me. Just do as she says. Please.’ She was crying now.
‘Don’t worry, Emma, I’ll be there.’ He felt a new urgency. ‘You’re coming home.’
Then he jumped when he heard a noise, like someone being hit, and the metallic voice returned.
‘You know where to go, David. I’m waiting. You go there and you get Emma back.’
He started to shout, his hand gripping the wheel tight, too tight, when he noticed the call had ended.
He threw the phone back on the passenger seat and put his foot down harder. He could see Turners Fold getting bigger, the dots on the landscape turning into houses, the grey pinpricks into lines of chimneys.
This was going to end only one way.