Darkness Looking Back, The (24 page)

PAXTON WAS VISITING Stirling when the tall figure of Rees came through the door, immediately taking up half the tiny room. He said hello to Paxton, and pulled another chair over to the bed.

'How are you, Andy?' he asked. 'I've got some more news. We found out how Nathan got their addresses. They ran a business card competition — put your card in the box and you could win a free coffee. All he had to do was match her surname with her after-hours number in the phone book.'

'It was that bloody easy?' cried Stirling incredulously.

'Believe it or not, we actually found the name Nathan in Charlotte's diary — for two days
after
she was killed. Nathan admitted he actually booked in a meeting with her, pretending to be buying a house, and found out her husband was away till Wednesday, and bang. Helen he just had to follow, of course, because she walked. Ooh, have you got chocolates?'

'Seeing as you lot bought them, you can have one I suppose. Greedy sod.'

'You'll get fat in that bed, eating chocolates all day,' said Paxton, his own cheek distended. He held out the box to Rees.

Rees took a chocolate, then nodded at Paxton. 'Still don't know how you did that.'

Paxton felt himself being scrutinised by someone who wouldn't be happy until he had the answer, but would let it slide anyway.

'Can you tell me what happened to the girlfriend?'

'I don't think she's dead,' said Paxton.

'She's not. She really is in London. And Nathan really did have tickets.'

No one said anything to that.

'She's still living with the guy she left him for. A fellow jobbing artist. He used to deliver for Hell Pizza.'

'But why did he kidnap Vicky and Ray?' Stirling asked. He frowned down at his sheets. 'He must have known it was a huge risk.'

'I've thought about that,' said Paxton. 'He liked the attention, didn't he? All those letters. He liked being smarter. When Huia showed up, it took the limelight off the café. He'd already set Arthur up for the fall. He had to do something desperate. Isn't that what they say? There's not much fun in being a serial-killing genius if no one knows who to admire.'

'Not to mention,' said Rees, 'that he'd run out of victims. Only a finite number of cheating women in any café. But by then he was so damn crazy he just couldn't stop.'

The next visit was from Arthur Wong. Stirling couldn't have been more surprised to see the little man there, hesitating outside the door to the ward, as if wishing to find him asleep. He looked ten years older and, above all, Stirling thought, as if he were grieving. He felt the guilt well up at the sight of him.

'I rang your mobile number, and your wife said you were here,' he said, standing awkwardly by Stirling's bed. 'When do you leave?'

'Tomorrow,' Stirling said. 'They were trying to save me a skin graft. We'll just have to see.' There was a long, awkward pause. 'I'm so sorry for treating you the way I did. I was so sure . . .'

'I don't blame you,' said Arthur. 'It must have seemed like it was me, even though what my wife said about me was lies. She was Muslim — she was afraid of her
own
family after her behaviour. Not me. I loved that dog.' His face was tired. He studied the white sheets in front of him, and shook his head. 'I still can't believe it. He was such a lovely boy. Like a son.'

Stirling couldn't get rid of his pressing sense of shame.

'You know he was trying to frame you? All that stuff with the menu, calling up Nielsen
and
Gardner to the café — he wanted everything to point to you.'

Wong merely sighed, shaking his head again.

'Well, I just hope all this hasn't hurt your business too much.'

'I'm not sure I want to stay in that business any more. It's not really my thing, to tell you the truth.'

'You're not going back to Malaysia?'

'No, no,' Wong said, waving a hand in disgust. 'There's nothing for me there anymore. I'm thinking of starting a pub.' A light came back into his eyes. 'An Irish pub. That's where all the money is.' He gave a cheeky grin. 'I think I'll call it O'Wong's.'

ANUBIS WAS POPULAR at the usual times, but for the past few nights they'd been in danger of breaching fire regulations. Everyone wanted a glimpse of the psychic who'd caught the killer. Tonight, being a Saturday, was even worse. Paxton put his head down and tried to blank it out.

'James! James! Have you seen this?' Mel fagged him down, shoving a piece of paper under his nose.

Paxton had to smile when he saw what it was — the cartoon that had appeared in that morning's
Herald
. He had to admit they'd really nailed Cristiana's features. She was portrayed as a crazy-haired fortune teller, sitting purse-lipped with arms folded at her desk, while the police stripped her room of everything from a box scrawled with OCCULT BOOKS: EVIDENCE to a squawking parrot in a cage. Leaning casually against her desk was an old-fashioned bobby in a helmet and a badge reading PC PAXTON, smirking and spinning a crystal ball on his finger. The caption was:
Didn't you see this coming
?

'I'm getting this blown up and framed,' he said, grinning.

'Oh my God, I can't believe I work with someone famous! Will you sign it for me?'

'
Sssssh
!' Paxton glanced round at the crowds, then stared at her, unsure whether to be amused or amazed. 'Not you too. Don't be stupid.'

'Do you think you could give me a reading sometime? I know you're busy, but . . .'

Paxton sighed. 'I don't know, Mel, I really don't know if I want to go down that path again. I've got so many letters at home I haven't even answered.'

'Oh come on, it's a gift. You should be proud of it.'

Adam passed them, carefully balancing yet another empty glass on his tray. He managed to nod in greeting without upsetting them. 'Don't go giving him an extra big head, eh, Mel? He's got nothing to fill it up with.'

'You should get yours done too, Adam,' Mel told him.

'Eh?'

'Don't you want to know if you'll finally get a decent woman in your life?'

'Ohhh, would you stop going on?' Adam took a good look at Paxton, and frowned. 'Nah,' he said eventually. 'I don't want to know my future. God'll sort it out.'

'Thank God for that.'

'Well, can't you at least tell me mine?
Please
?' Mel's expression was frighteningly sincere. Enough to make him hesitate.

Paxton looked at her for a long moment. Then he smiled.

'Waiting,' he said gently.

He reached over and tweaked the string of her apron. Then his eyes went inward, and he smiled wider. 'Sorry. But no tips.'

He walked back towards the bar, feeling Adam grin behind him.