life
completely or completely consume whatever was left of it.
He took out his phone.
A long moment passed before he worked up the nerve to call Eve. She was on the
other end of the line in a couple of rings. “I can’t see you for a while,” he
told her.
“Oh really? Why’s
that?” Eve didn’t sound surprised. There was a fatalistic quality to her voice,
as if she’d prepared herself to hear what Harlan was saying.
“I can’t tell you why.
And if anyone asks, you never saw Susan Reed at my flat. Okay?”
“Well if I’m going to
lie about that, I might as well go the whole hog and provide you with an alibi
as well?”
“Why would I need an
alibi?”
Eve huffed her breath.
“Don’t bullshit me, Harlan. I can deal with all the other crap. Just don’t
bullshit me. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I don’t suppose
there’s any point trying to talk you out of whatever it is you’re going to do.”
“No.”
“You’re going to end up
back in prison. You know that, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter what
happens to me.”
“Of course it bloody
matters.” Eve’s voice was sharp with irritation. But it softened as she added,
“It matters because I love you and I want to be with you.”
I feel the same way ,
thought Harlan. He didn’t say the words, though. It wouldn’t have been fair.
“So when can I see
you?” asked Eve.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you
don’t know? How long are we talking about here? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?”
“However long it
takes.”
“However long it
takes.” Eve repeated the words as though struggling to understand them. “So I’m
supposed to spend my life in limbo, waiting for you.”
“I’m not asking you to
wait for me. I’m just trying to be as straight as I can with you.”
“Oh, thanks.” Eve’s
voice was loaded with sarcasm and hurt.
“I’m sorry, Eve.”
She sighed, not angry
anymore, just sad and full of yearning. “Don’t be sorry, Harlan, just promise
me one thing. Promise me that after all this is over you’ll come back to me.”
“I promise.” Harlan’s
voice was thick with suppressed emotion. He knew he couldn’t allow himself to
feel too much, not while faced with the task before him. He had to be hard in
thought and feeling, or else the paralysis would seize him, and he’d be
powerless even to leave his flat. “I’ve got to go now, Eve. Take care.”
Before Eve could reply,
Harlan hung up. As he turned away from the window, the clouds burst and dirty
black rain pelted the glass, ushering in an even dirtier, blacker night.
Chapter
9
On his way to Jones’s
house, Harlan bought a hooded sweatshirt, a rucksack, a torch, a screwdriver, a
crowbar, leather gloves, a balaclava and a roll of duct tape. He spread his purchases
around several stores, paying with cash. He parked in an unlit side-street
half-a-mile or so from his destination, pulled on the sweatshirt, and head
bowed against the rain, continued on foot.
By the time Harlan
reached Jones’s street, the lampposts were blinking into life. Jones’s house
was in the middle of the terrace, its front door soot blackened from what
appeared to be a recent arson attack, its boarded up windows daubed with fresh
graffiti. ‘DEAD MAN WALKING’ proclaimed blood-red letters a foot high. No light
seeped out from around the edges of the rain-bowed chipboard. The house wore an
air of desertion.
Harlan slowed his pace,
scanning the vehicles parked along the kerb. None of them were occupied. His
gaze lingered on a black van across the street. Yanking his hood as far down
over his face as it would go, he walked past Jones’s house. Near the far end of
the street, he darted into a ginnel between two unlit houses. His gaze flicked
back and forth from the van to Jones’s house. Neither showed any sign of being
inhabited. Considering the amount of time that’d elapsed since Ethan’s
abduction, he doubted Garrett would be keeping Jones under surveillance
completely or completely consume whatever was left of it.
He took out his phone.
A long moment passed before he worked up the nerve to call Eve. She was on the
other end of the line in a couple of rings. “I can’t see you for a while,” he
told her.
“Oh really? Why’s
that?” Eve didn’t sound surprised. There was a fatalistic quality to her voice,
as if she’d prepared herself to hear what Harlan was saying.
“I can’t tell you why.
And if anyone asks, you never saw Susan Reed at my flat. Okay?”
“Well if I’m going to
lie about that, I might as well go the whole hog and provide you with an alibi
as well?”
“Why would I need an
alibi?”
Eve huffed her breath.
“Don’t bullshit me, Harlan. I can deal with all the other crap. Just don’t
bullshit me. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I don’t suppose
there’s any point trying to talk you out of whatever it is you’re going to do.”
“No.”
“You’re going to end up
back in prison. You know that, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter what
happens to me.”
“Of course it bloody
matters.” Eve’s voice was sharp with irritation. But it softened as she added,
“It matters because I love you and I want to be with you.”
I feel the same way ,
thought Harlan. He didn’t say the words, though. It wouldn’t have been fair.
“So when can I see
you?” asked Eve.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you
don’t know? How long are we talking about here? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?”
“However long it
takes.”
“However long it
takes.” Eve repeated the words as though struggling to understand them. “So I’m
supposed to spend my life in limbo, waiting for you.”
“I’m not asking you to
wait for me. I’m just trying to be as straight as I can with you.”
“Oh, thanks.” Eve’s
voice was loaded with sarcasm and hurt.
“I’m sorry, Eve.”
She sighed, not angry
anymore, just sad and full of yearning. “Don’t be sorry, Harlan, just promise
me one thing. Promise me that after all this is over you’ll come back to me.”
“I promise.” Harlan’s
voice was thick with suppressed emotion. He knew he couldn’t allow himself to
feel too much, not while faced with the task before him. He had to be hard in
thought and feeling, or else the paralysis would seize him, and he’d be
powerless even to leave his flat. “I’ve got to go now, Eve. Take care.”
Before Eve could reply,
Harlan hung up. As he turned away from the window, the clouds burst and dirty
black rain pelted the glass, ushering in an even dirtier, blacker night.
Chapter
9
On his way to Jones’s
house, Harlan bought a hooded sweatshirt, a rucksack, a torch, a screwdriver, a
crowbar, leather gloves, a balaclava and a roll of duct tape. He spread his purchases
around several stores, paying with cash. He parked in an unlit side-street
half-a-mile or so from his destination, pulled on the sweatshirt, and head
bowed against the rain, continued on foot.
By the time Harlan
reached Jones’s street, the lampposts were blinking into life. Jones’s house
was in the middle of the terrace, its front door soot blackened from what
appeared to be a recent arson attack, its boarded up windows daubed with fresh
graffiti. ‘DEAD MAN WALKING’ proclaimed blood-red letters a foot high. No light
seeped out from around the edges of the rain-bowed chipboard. The house wore an
air of desertion.
Harlan slowed his pace,
scanning the vehicles parked along the kerb. None of them were occupied. His
gaze lingered on a black van across the street. Yanking his hood as far down
over his face as it would go, he walked past Jones’s house. Near the far end of
the street, he darted into a ginnel between two unlit houses. His gaze flicked
back and forth from the van to Jones’s house. Neither showed any sign of being
inhabited. Considering the amount of time that’d elapsed since Ethan’s
abduction, he doubted Garrett would be keeping Jones under surveillance
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