Take Two (A psychological thriller)

Richards fell asleep on the sofa in front of the television. He slept fitfully, plagued by dreams of Carolyn and the chest filling with water. His mobile rang at two o’clock in the afternoon and he retrieved it from the floor. It was Halpin. ‘You okay, boss?’ he asked.

‘Fine and dandy,’ said Richards, ‘considering all the booze I put away last night. The boat’s back at St Katherine’s Dock?’

‘All good,’ said Halpin. ‘And Parker’s squared away.’

Richards took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Every time he thought of sea water pouring into the trunk he felt as if he was about to throw up.

‘You going to the club tonight, boss?’

‘I’m not sure. It’s Sunday, it’ll be a quiet night.’

‘There’s something I need to talk to you about, boss.’

‘I’m all ears.’

Face to face, boss. It can wait until this evening.’

‘This evening?’

‘The Mint, boss. You’re seeing him at nine tonight, remember? I’ll pick you up at eight.’

Richards ran a hand through his hair. He’d forgotten all about his meeting with The Mint. He was supposed to see him at the Mayfair Bar in the West End to discuss the deals he was putting together. As usual The Mint was reluctant to say anything over the phone and on Monday he was leaving for Spain.

Richards ended the call. He went to the kitchen and looked in his fridge but there was nothing he wanted to eat. He called up a local Indian that did decent takeaways and an hour later he tucked into a chicken tikka masala and a lamb biryani. The food helped to get rid of his headache.  He opened a bottle of Cristal and polished off half of it.

The more he drank the less he thought about Carolyn. He finished the bottle and watched football on Sky Sports until he fell asleep.

CHAPTER 61

Carolyn ran a hand through his hair and pulled him towards her, her mouth opening. Richards kissed her, his tongue slipping easily between her lips, and she moaned softly, grinding herself against him as she returned the kiss. He reached up and cupped her breast and she moaned again, louder this time. He felt her nipple stiffen and he caressed her breast, softly at first and then harder.  He heard a buzzing sound but he ignored it and continued to kiss her, his lips pressed hard against hers.

He broke away, his heart pounding.  ‘God, I’ve missed you,’ he said.

‘I’ve missed you too,’ she said.

‘I’ll never let you go again,’ he said. He could smell her perfume. Coco Mademoiselle. The buzzing was louder, more insistent.

‘You didn’t let me go, Warwick,’ she said, looking deep into her eyes. ‘You killed me, remember?’

The buzzer went again and Richards woke up. He was lying on the sofa and the television was still showing football. He wiped his face and sat up. The door entry phone buzzed again. He looked at his wristwatch. It was just before seven-thirty. He tried to work out if it was morning or evening. It was evening, he realised. He’d slept away most of the day.

He stood up and walked over to the entry phone, wondering why Halpin had turned up half an hour early.  There were four buttons on the unit at street level but only the top one was connected.  He reached for the handset but he froze when he saw the face on the monitor. A woman, her face soaking wet, her hair drenched, her eyes wide and staring. It was Carolyn.

CHAPTER 62

Richards raced down the stairs, figuring that would be quicker than the lumbering lift.  He hadn’t picked up the handset, he’d just grabbed his keys and run out of the flat. His heart was pounding and it wasn’t from the physical exertion of running down the stairs. Carolyn? How could Carolyn be at his front door when she was in a trunk at the bottom of the North Sea?

He reached the second floor, grabbed the metal rail that ran the full length of the onside wall and swung himself around.  There was a fire door at the very bottom of the stairwell that led into a small tiled lobby. The front door was to the left and he fumbled with the lock before yanking it open. It was pouring with rain and, as he stepped outside, there was a menacing roll of thunder off in the distance. The pavement was deserted. A black cab drove by with its yellow FOR HIRE light on.

He whirled around but there was no sign of her.  A young couple sheltering under an umbrella walked by him. ‘He’s got no shoes on, did you see that?’ he heard the woman say in a strangled Essex accent. ‘What sort of idiot goes out at night in the rain without shoes?’

Richards looked across the road. The rain was blinding him and he put his hands up to shield his eyes. There was a man holding a newspaper over his head and a teenage girl with a Spaniel on a leash sheltering in a doorway. Richards did a slow three-sixty as the rain drenched him. There was no sign of her.

He ran his hands through his soaking wet hair, wondering if he was going crazy. Had he imagined it?  Was it the booze? Or was his guilty conscience playing tricks on him? He turned and went back into the building.

CHAPTER 63