Page 143 of The Mercy Chair

‘But how? You said Nathan Rose had hanged himself in front of you. Surely the police should have been expecting something like this?’

How do you explain the impossibility of keeping someone alive when they are determined to be dead, Poe thought. If you don’t care how you do it, anything can be used to attack your own body. Soap becomes poison, mattress springs become blades. A shirt is a noose and a wall is a blunt object.

And in Israel Cobb’s case, eleven pieces of toilet paper stuffed down the back of his throat became death by suffocation. Nightingale told Poe that because the toilet areas in police cells must be pixelated, it was a full minute before anyone realised what he was doing. Cobb had been declared dead by the force medical examiner thirty minutes later.

‘My father is dead?’ she said after Poe had finished explaining what had happened.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I would have liked him to know I haven’t forgiven him. That I hated him most of all.’

‘He knew, Bethany. Trust me, he knew.’

‘What if he didn’t?’

‘Then take comfort from the fact that he died alone in a rank police cell with toilet paper stuffed down his throat. Take comfort from the fact that everyone will know what he did to you.’

Eve moaned. Her eyes fluttered open. ‘What’s happening?’ she said, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Bethany caught Poe’s eye and winked. Despite the heat, he shivered so hard it was like a spasm.

‘You don’t have to do this, Bethany,’ Poe said. ‘By any modern measure, an eye-for-an-eye is barbaric. And while I get Cornelius Green deserved everything he got, please don’t forget that Eve is right. She and Aaronwerevictims of Noah and Grace. Yes, they betrayed you, and yes, they murdered and lied. But they deserve prison, not death. And if you let them go, I’ll make sure that happens.’

‘An eye-for-an-eye doesn’t mean revenge, Sergeant Poe,’ she said. ‘It means reciprocal justice. It’s about limiting compensation. The Old Testament is very clear: a lifemustbe paid for with a life.’

‘But you’re no longer dead.’

‘And I no longer believe in God’s justice.’

She turned her back to Poe and pushed the mallet under Eve’s chin, lifting up her face. She gently kissed her half-sister on the lips.

‘Goodbye, Eve,’ Bethany said. ‘I’ll try to make this quick.’

‘No!’ Poe screamed.

But it was too late. The first blow had already removed Eve’s jaw.

Chapter 124

Eve was dead.

Even with a sluggish, concussed brain, Poe knew she had to be. He had clamped his eyes shut after Bethany’s first blow, but he hadn’t been able to block out the sound. Bethany had started slowly and methodically, but after half-a-dozen blows, it had transformed into a rage-fuelled attack.

After two minutes, she stopped. The only sounds Poe could hear were Bethany panting, Aaron crying and the pitter-patter of blood on the basement floor.

He risked opening his eyes and then wished he hadn’t.

Eve’s injuries were catastrophic and unsurvivable. Her jaw was hanging, pendulum-like, by a thin flap of skin. She was missing an ear. Her skull was misshapen and flattened, like a lump of dropped clay.

Poe hoped Eve had lost consciousness after the first blow. She hadn’t deserved Bethany’s mercy, but no one should die like that. He glanced at Aaron; he was in shock. His skin was pale and clammy; his lips tinged with blue. Dilated pupils and shallow, rapid breathing. He had been staring in horror at his dead sister, but when Bethany eventually caught her breath, he turned to her.

Later, much later, when Poe was asked about Bethany’s state of mind in the moments after Eve’s murder, he would answer ‘Calm.’ She was still holding the mallet – its striking face wet and stained – but only because she had forgotten to drop it. Her arms and face were spattered red, as if she’d been bobbing for apples in a bucket of blood. But, despite her outwards appearance, it looked like she had found some inner peace. A serene smile danced across her lips and her eyes were still and tranquil.

Aaron burst into tears again, a high-pitched mewl that snapped Bethany out of whatever Zen-like trance she had been swimming in. She blinked twice and looked at the mallet. She seemed surprised to see there was blood on her hands. Cat-like, she licked them. She held them up to one of the bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling and, satisfied they were clean, she turned to her brother.

‘Let me give you the choice I never had, brother mine,’ she said. She moved to the table with the camping equipment and picked up a canvas bag of tent pegs. She upended it and they watched the pegs fall out. They landed in a pile, like she was setting up a game of Mikado.

‘Do you need the hood, Aaron?’

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