Read Someone Else's Skin Online

Authors: Sarah Hilary

Tags: #Crime, #Women Sleuths, #Fiction, #Police Procedural, #Mystery & Detective, #Thriller, #Suspense, #Contemporary

Someone Else's Skin (42 page)

He’d fallen asleep after Marnie left, dreaming of Hope in the dock, extracting sympathy from the jury as easily as water from a sponge.

Simone wasn’t in the dream, but Noah woke thinking about her. Where she was, who was taking care of her. Whether she was talking yet, to Ed Belloc maybe. He remembered the way she’d snapped to attention when he called her Nasiche, and felt again the pang of guilt, about which Marnie had promised him a lecture. He flexed his ankle, experimentally. He wanted to be up and out of here.

LBC Radio was hosting a phone-in. He’d tuned out when he was testing his ankle, tuning back in when the DJ introduced a caller from Whitechapel.

‘We’ve got a young woman on the line who wants to tell us about her experiences of growing up in north London. Is it Anna?’

‘Ayana.’ Her voice was very clear, as if she was in the recording studio with the DJ.

Ayana.

Noah put his fingers over the earphones, pressing them in place. His ribs stabbed sharply, but he ignored them. He looked around for a piece of paper, or another phone. He didn’t want to disconnect from the radio station.

‘Ayana. You’re calling from Whitechapel?’

‘From Fieldgate Mansions in Myrdle Street. Block Ten, Flat G.’

Yes! Good. Stay on the line.

The DJ laughed. ‘That’s . . . very specific! Thanks, Ayana. What was the point you wanted to make?’

‘I need the police. I’m being held against my will by my brothers, Nasif and Turhan Mirza.’ Her voice was steady, urgent but not hysterical. She’d practised this speech before she called the phone-in. ‘Nasif is wanted by the police for an assault in which a man lost his hand. He is very dangerous and I am very scared. My name is Ayana Mirza. I am in Flat G, Block Ten of Fieldgate Mansions in Myrdle Street.’

Brave, brave Ayana.

Noah was cheering, his finger poised to speed-dial Marnie Rome as soon as Ayana rang off.

The DJ was asking something about the police, why didn’t she call the police?

‘I couldn’t be sure of getting through to the right person. Not everyone in the police is the right person.’

The DJ said, ‘Well, you – you’re certainly getting through to – to the right people now, Ayana.’ From the stammer in his voice, it was clear that the average phone-in hadn’t prepared him for this type of revelation. ‘I’m sure plenty of our listeners are dialling the police, and I know my editor is doing the same. Sit tight and someone will be with you very soon.’

Don’t be an idiot – she needs to stay on the line. We need to know she’s safe. We need to hear her voice . . . People need to hear this . . .

The DJ’s editor must’ve said the same thing, because he added, ‘Keep talking, Ayana, please. Let us know what’s happening there.’

‘I’m in the bedroom at the back of the flat. They’ve locked the door. My brothers are in the front room. My mother has gone out, to the shops. That’s how I am able to make this call. I hid – I hid the phone. They searched me, but they didn’t find it. I’m good at hiding things, but I am scared of what happens when she returns.’ Her voice wavered for the first time. ‘Very scared.’

‘Stay with us, Ayana. Stay on the line. London’s listening. You have over two million supporters out there, lots of them very close to you. You’re going to be safe very soon.’

He was right: too many people knew where she was now.

Smart, smart Ayana.

She’d learned the power of the phone-in when she was at the refuge, watching TV for the first time in her life. She was a fast learner. Her brothers couldn’t keep this quiet, not now. Not with over two million witnesses to her call. And she was ready to give evidence against her brothers; Noah could hear it in her voice.

‘London, we’re talking with Ayana Mirza, a young woman being held against her will in Whitechapel. The police have been informed, and are on their way . . .’

Noah pressed call, and the radio went quiet as the phone rang for Marnie Rome.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

About Sarah Hilary

About the Book

Dedication

Author’s Note

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Part 1

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49

Part 2

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39

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