Part 10 (1/2)
The little statue in the town centre had popped into her mind, the tiny lost woman. That was who she was, a lost creature, alone and friendless.
”Great, and where are you from Sylvie?”
”Oh, all over the place, I have been in London.”
”Right, good. How long have you and Samuel been together?”
As he asked the question shock thudded through her, landing in her stomach like a rock. It was so little, such a very, very short time. If she said it was barely a week they would ridicule her, it would cause more suspicion. They wouldn't understand. She didn't understand herself, how could anyone ever explain it, this attraction, it was deeper than that, a knowledge, a certainty which defied expression. Since she had gone with him to the poor shack and given him her body she had known she loved him totally. When he had said he would take her away, after the terrible thing with Phil, she had known she would go. Even though she had watched him kill the other man, seen him blood splattered and wild with violence, she wanted to be with him. How could she make them see? She couldn't and so would lie and weave a tale, make it stick and get them out of this. She would.
”We've been together a while, I can't remember exactly how long. A while anyway. I met him in a bar. I know it sounds bad but it wasn't. I fell over and he drove me home.”
Much of it was true, tiny sparks of honesty in the dark web of subterfuge. If she could keep it simple and give herself handholds of accuracy she would climb out of this mess.
”Anyway then we got together and he brought me here. We went out, to look around the town and buy some clothes and then when we got back that man was in the room. He had a gun, he threatened us both.”
”Did he shoot Samuel?”
”Yes.”
”How did he get shot, the other man? There was only one gun, who shot him Sylvie?”
Now, it was now, this was where it all came cras.h.i.+ng down around her, the end of everything. She gulped.
”It was me, you already know don't you, it's obvious I was the one.”
”That what Sylvie? The one that what?”
Trapped, a rabbit in the headlight, petrified. Her heart pounded, she couldn't breathe, her eyes had filled with tears and the room spun and tipped. She had slipped and now she was sliding deeper, there had been no choice there were finger prints, her finger prints. She couldn't do this, the maze closed, there was no way to turn.
”Hey, are you okay? Put your head down. Take some deep breaths, keep calm.”
Someone was touching her, she felt it distant and unreal, she was bent forward and a hand rubbed her back. The darkness receded. For a long moment she stayed where she was, gaining time, time to think. She would have to do this now, would tell them what had happened. If only her brain could keep up with her instincts she could force it all to make sense to them and muddy the waters enough to save him.
She lifted her head.
”I'm okay, sorry I felt dizzy. I'm okay now. I shot him, the other man. I had no choice, he had already shot Samuel and he was going to kill me, he said he was going to rape me first. I thought Samuel was dead, I don't remember it very clearly but I know I shot him. I got the gun from him and I blew his face off.”
As the words left her mouth she felt a strange desire to giggle, hysteria threatened to take over, how would they react, laughing now when she had just admitted to killing a man.
She stopped, looked at their faces; there was nothing in the detective's eyes apart from a sort of resigned acceptance.
”You shouldn't really say anymore now Sylvie. If you are telling me you shot the other man then you shouldn't say anymore, you should have someone with you, a solicitor.”
”Do I have to, can't I just tell you?”
”Wait, just wait. I need someone else in here with us, and I need you to think about what you are doing. I need to record what you say. You are going to have to come to the police station.”
”I'll tell you about it now. I don't want to go away from here, not until we find out about Samuel.”
”Are you sure?”
”If you let me stay until I know he's going to be alright then I'll come with you and I'll do whatever you want and I'll tell you what happened. It wasn't my fault, I had to do it.”
”Stop, stop Sylvie. Look we will stay, just until he is out of the operating theatre and then we'll go and do this properly. It's for your protection as much as anything. We have to do this the right way. For now though I am going to have to take your clothes. I'll go and see what I can get for you to wear. I'll leave Constable Forbes with you but I don't want you to talk to her about all of this. Okay?”
She nodded as fresh tears flooded down her face. He couldn't help it he felt sorry for this sc.r.a.p of a girl and hoped that when she managed to tell them what had happened it would be alright for her. Had she really done whatever she had done in self-defence, been in mortal danger? For now he would simply try and work within the rules and play everything as straight as he could.
When the call had come in about a double shooting he had a.s.sumed some sort of drug gang carnage. Seems he had been wrong, or maybe not, he knew enough to reserve judgement. In his mind all the time was the bag from under the bed, stuffed full of cash. This was usually a signal of drugs, but in the room there had been no other sign. Sylvie didn't look like a user and the medical bods had told him there were no drugs in Samuel's blood. It remained to be seen what was in the body of the dead man, there were scars and a deformed hand but it meant nothing to them yet.
Chapter 40.
”Here you are Sylvie, I brought you a track suit thing. I know it's not very glamorous but we do need to have your clothes. We will need your finger prints as well and I'm sorry but we need a DNA sample. We can do it all later when we go down to the station but for now let's just get your clothes bagged up.”
She stretched out her hand and took the plastic wrapped parcel. Her throat was dry and there was a horrible dead feeling in the pit of her belly. This, this fingerprinting and processing was something she had spent so many years determined to avoid. She had been aware of it from her very early years when her father had been taken away over and over and her mother had started the tedious business of organising representation for him and pleading his innocence all the time in full knowledge of his guilt. So, here she was, her father's daughter, in the hands of the police, probably going to jail for a crime far more serious than any that poor useless man had ever encountered and so it had all come to nothing.
Why had she bothered to try? All those long years fighting a past which had proved inescapable? It was hopeless, but she had to keep on trying, Samuel was fighting to live she had to try and give him something to live for. She took a deep breath.
”Where shall I change, not here?” She indicated the little yellow room, the box of toys in the corner and the collection of picture books and old magazines. Such an innocuous little s.p.a.ce to witness the intensity of human life that had surely pa.s.sed this way. The quiet room they called it, yet surely the very walls had been imbued with the sound of lives in turmoil.
”No, no of course. Can you manage in the ladies do you think?”
”Yeah, yeah sure.”
”Constable Forbes will have to go with you, sorry.”
”It's fine.” She dredged up a smile for them, made it seem brave and tremulous, squeezed out a tear or two.
As they stood to leave the door swung open. A doctor in his white coat and the young nurse from earlier took a couple of steps inside.
”Hi, are you Sylvie?”
He held out his hand. She couldn't answer, desperately trying to read his expression, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and the nurse. She nodded.
”I'm Doctor Price. I've been helping to look after your husband.”
”Boyfriend, he's my boyfriend.”
Aware of the detective standing beside her she needed to appear honest, open.
”Oh, right, well anyway we have you as his next of kin.”
Again she inclined her head. She wanted to hear, didn't want to hear, wanted this to be over, couldn't bear it to be over if the news was bad.