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Penn was trying to stem the bleeding from a gash in Josh’s left arm.
In the distance she could hear someone calling for an ambulance.
Kim looked down at Eloise, whose colour had drained. Her hand went to her chest and her face contorted in pain.
‘Oh no,’ Kim said, grabbing the feather-light body and easing her to the ground.
‘It’s okay, Eloise, I’ve got you,’ Kim said, helping her to a lying position. ‘I’m right here,’ she said, placing a cushion beneath her head. ‘You’re going to be fine. Help is coming. Stay with me, Eloise.’
‘I…c…can’t…’
‘Yes, you can. It’s not your time yet,’ Kim said, even though she could feel the life draining out of her.
‘It’s t…time,’ she said from beneath heavy, hooded eyes.
‘It is not your time,’ Kim said, placing her fingers on Eloise’s wrist. The pulse was weak, and she had to keep the woman alive. ‘Hang on for me, Eloise.’
She felt the pulse again. With every passing moment it was weakening.
‘Eloise, you can’t go,’ Kim said, feeling the woman slipping from her grasp. ‘Where’s the fucking ambulance?’ she cried.
Rose sat sobbing in the corner. Kim had no idea who she was crying for. Was it for her son who had chosen to simply leave his life behind? Was it for his friend who had kept the secret for all these years? Or was it for the three victims who had died horrific, brutal deaths for absolutely no reason?
Kim didn’t care who she was crying for, satisfied that she was feeling pain for something.
Josh was groaning as Penn was ripping his own shirt to make a bandage. She cared little more for him. It was a nasty flesh wound but he would live.
She cared only for the frail old woman who had been frightened into a heart attack and who was now clinging to life by the leanest of threads.
Through her fingers she could feel the pulse weakening until it was barely detectable.
Kim felt the emotion rising in her throat.
She heard sirens in the distance but her heart told her they were going to be too late. She gave it one last try. She had to keep the woman alive.
‘Stay with me, Eloise. I’m finally ready,’ she said. ‘I’m ready to receive my gift.’
EIGHTY
It wasn’t a normal occurrence for Kim to find herself in the ladies locker room at 7a.m. on a Saturday morning but today warranted it.
The rest of her team were enjoying the start of their weekend after an exhausting week that had culminated in a full confession from Rose Foster, revealing the details of the crimes.
The catalyst appeared to have been the psychic dinner party in conjunction with the ten-year anniversary of Bradley’s supposed abduction. Rose had met with Sandy a couple of days after the dinner party, to seek contact with Bradley. It was Rose that Penn had been unable to see on the CCTV from across the road. Sandy had been trying to offer comfort even when she couldn’t offer assistance, and Rose had rebuffed her attempts. When Sandy had been unable to reach Bradley, Rose had become convinced that she was a fraud and was causing distress and heartbreak to grieving, vulnerable people. She had consulted with a psychic hotline, who had given her a standard reading about good things coming in her future. She had waited half an hour and called again, only to get the exact same reading. She had tracked the calls to the Waterfront offices, and although Azim had taken neither of her calls, Rose had set her sights on the first person that had left the building. As far as she’d been concerned, anyone working those phones was peddling the same lies and deserved to die.
Stacey had uncovered that Rose, not Catherine, had been at Victoria’s stage show. Rose had admitted to following Victoria home and confronting her on her doorstep.
During the interview, Kim had witnessed Rose’s desperation for answers, for knowledge of what had happened to her son, ten years after he’d disappeared. She had also witnessed the depth of faith that Rose had been willing to offer to someone who professed to have a psychic gift. Was that the fault of the psychic or the individual?
In a twist of irony, Kim had realised that not one psychic had actually lied to her. Whether genuine or not, none of them had pretended to pass on a message that they weren’t receiving from the other side. In a further twist, lives might have been saved if someone had lied and given her what she wanted. It wouldn’t have been honest and it wouldn’t have been the truth, but it would have definitely saved lives.
Learning that her son was still alive and had chosen this way of life had finally unlocked Rose’s remorse for the lives she’d taken.
It was Penn who had joined those dots. On seeing the footage of Rose, he had taken a good look at Brad’s photo on the board and had seen a resemblance to Jericho. He had pictured him without the facial hair and the premature aging around the eyes from hard living. He had then hot-footed it down to Josh to pose the question to him.
Josh had broken down and admitted that he’d lied for his friend. He really had expected Brad to come back within a few days and straighten it all out. When the investigation turned to murder, after Brad’s possessions were found on Cannock Chase, he’d known he was in too deep and had been frightened of the consequences if he revealed his own involvement in the plan, as well as the loyalty of keeping a secret for his friend.
Eventually, the CPS had confirmed there would be no charges and he’d fled from the building. He would always live with the guilt that his secrecy and loyalty had helped contribute to the murder of three innocent people. If he had found the courage to come forward, Rose would have faced a different kind of heartbreak, and Sandy, Azim and Victoria would still be alive.
