Page 135 of The Mercy Chair

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘And I don’t care.’

She raised the mallet. Poe wondered how long it would hurt. He hoped it would be quick.

The doorbell rang.

Eve paused; the mallet poised to strike.

‘Can you get rid of whoever that is, darling?’ she called up to Aaron. She lowered the mallet, put her hand in her pocket and pulled out an embroidered handkerchief. She forced it into Poe’s mouth. ‘Shush, my sweet,’ she said. ‘It’ll soon be over.’

Poe heard Aaron answer the door. There was a muffled conversation then the door shut. Poe had hoped it would take longer. For an ever-too-brief moment he’d even hoped it might be Nightingale’s family liaison officer.

Eve raised the mallet, waiting for the all-clear from her brother. They both heard his footsteps as he walked down the basement stairs, slow and methodical, like a metronome.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he would give the all-clear and Eve would kill Poe. No ifs, no buts, no more questions. Poe braced himself.

‘Who was it, darling?’ Eve asked, her eyes fixed on Poe’s.

No answer.

Poe craned his neck and peered over Eve’s shoulder. His good eye widened.

‘What?’ Eve said.

Poe said nothing, dumbstruck, staring in horror at the person walking down the basement steps. He blinked, and then he blinked again. For a moment he thought it was a symptom of his concussion. What he was seeing wasn’t possible. Yet he knew he wasn’t hallucinating. Thiswashappening, right in front of him.

Eve noticed she no longer had his full and undivided attention. She turned to see what was more important than her mallet. Her expression collapsed so suddenly it was as if her face muscles had been cut. It went from mild irritation to out-and-out shock so fast it was like she was having a stroke. She gasped. The mallet fell to the floor. She bent at the waist, put her hands to her face and screamed through them. ‘Noooooo!’ A pause. Then, ‘This isn’t happening!’

Time froze as the figure approached Eve, the stun gun used on Cornelius Green held casually and confidently at their side. Poe watched as it was raised then held against Eve’s chest. He counted ten Mississippis. He saw the crackling blue arc of pulsing electricity, smelled the burning flesh. He saw Eve collapse to the floor, convulsing.

The figure stood over her.

‘Hello, sis,’ Bethany Bowman said.

Chapter 117

Bethany grunted as she dragged her unconscious brother down the basement steps. She pulled him by the legs and didn’t seem to care that his head bounced off every concrete step. He’d been unconscious longer than Eve, but Bethany clearly viewed her sister as the bigger threat. Eve was already tied to the post next to Poe. The drool leaking from the corner of her mouth had formed a pool on the floor.

Aaron was a deadweight, and although Bethany’s expression was as fierce as it had been in the video Poe had just watched, she wasn’t a heavy-set woman. It took her five minutes to secure Aaron to the post on Poe’s right. Poe was now in the middle, literally and figuratively, of what had to be the sickest family squabble since Richard III had locked his nephews in the Tower of London.

Bethany had barely glanced at Poe, but with her brother and sister secured she finally had time to address the elephant in the room. She reached out and turned Poe’s head to the side, examined the damage Eve’s mallet had made. She wasn’t rough, but she wasn’t gentle either. Bethany wore her hair long. Despite the oppressive heat, a light scarf was tied around her neck.

She removed the gag Eve had put in his mouth. ‘You don’t look as though you’re having a good day, Mr Wrong-Place-at-the-Wrong-Time,’ she said.

‘I’ve had better,’ Poe admitted, wincing. If he got out of this, he’d have to congratulate Bradshaw on her program. The likeness she’d generated for Bethany was uncanny.

She touched his fractured eye socket. ‘Eve did this?’

‘With the mallet at your feet.’

‘Why?’

‘I asked her for a picture of Aaron. We were going to put it through some fancy age-progression software.’

‘That would do it,’ Bethany nodded. ‘I suppose you’d better tell me who you are.’

Poe did. Explained what he’d been doing and why. How he’d ended up tied to a post in her brother and sister’s basement. When he said it out loud, he realised just how foolish he’d been.

‘Do you know whoIam?’

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