Page 94 of Famous Last Words

‘Yes,’ Niall says, his expression knowing and sad, eyebrows raised, mouth turned down.

They both know the implication of this, though they don’t say it. Whoever wanted Luke dead is still out there somewhere. They have killed Madison Smith. They might even have killed Luke.

And they might want Cam dead, too.

Niall and Cam stay in room five for a long time, watching London’s lights glow and pulse beneath them. They talk about the past and the future, about the man Cam thought she saw in her garden, about the coordinates, and about the siege that only lasted for a day but changed several lives for ever, Niall listening avidly, just as he did way back when.

43

Anonymous Reporting on Camilla

‘I have a lot of intel,’ I tell him as soon as I arrive in the laundrette for my report.

My brother looks mildly interested, but that’s all.

‘Tell me it’s something big,’ he says, folding a sheet from the dryer.

‘She’s in touch with the hostage negotiator,’ I say. ‘They met up, but I don’t know what they discussed. Couldn’t follow them in.’

‘Try harder next time.’

44

Niall

Saturday night and Niall is the only person in the office. His room is fluorescent lit; the lights hurt his eyes. He’s on the HOLMES system, and on Madison Smith.

HOLMES is open-source to every single officer in the police and, one day, somebody may notice Niall has been poking around in files that don’t belong to him, but that’s a future-problem, not a today-problem, and so, late, Niall grabs a Coke for old times’ sake and begins to dig.

It’s still light out, even though it’s gone nine at night, and Niall shuts the blinds and begins, his computer humming near-silently in the background, nothing else.

He double-clicks themurdernext to Madison Smith’s name, and the summary window opens:

MADISON SMITH, 47, FOUND MURDERED ON HER DOORSTEP BY HER SONS, WHO WERE INSIDE THE HOUSE. SHE WAS A STAY-AT-HOME MOTHER, NO KNOWN ENEMIES. HUSBAND IS SUSPECT NUMBER 1: SHE IS ESTRANGED FROM HIM AND HE HAS NOT SO FAR COME FORWARD.

Husbandis a listed suspect along the nominals tabs, and Niall clicks it, revealing a new information sheet.

ANDREW SMITH, 52, SELF-EMPLOYED BRICKLAYER. ESTRANGED FROM WIFE FOR THE PAST SEVERAL YEARS – HER SONS DON’T KNOW PRECISELY HOW LONG AND NOR DO HER FRIENDS. HE HAS NO PASSPORT, CRIMINAL RECORD OR DRIVING LICENCE.

There he is. A contract killer. For this reason Niall supposes, Andrew Smith has no entries on HOLMES. Nothing comes up on 192.com, the marriage and deaths register or social media. Niall spends two hours looking: to try to find him, to try to find who hired him, but all he comes up against are dead ends.

He searches next for Alexander Hale and James Lancaster. Found murdered on the street together in 2017, no suspect ever arrested.

But it’s the weirdest thing. Isn’t it? Niall sits back in his chair, hand to his chin. A motorbike rumbles by outside, disturbing his chain of thought, and he gets to his feet and begins to walk a slow loop of his office.

Hang on. The murders took place in Whitechapel, on the exact route Deschamps took on that night, the night he turned his location data off.

Only, they never popped up on HOLMES when Niall searched the crimes that night. He would have noticed. Hewouldhave. An unsolved double murder, no suspects, on the night Deschamps went driving, covered his number plate in mud on the way home and turned off his iPhone tracking? Of course he would have fucking noticed. He remembers seeing a few burglaries and assaults, but nothing more. No murder. Certainly not this one. How could that be? And why is it back on HOLMES now?

45

Cam

The last thing Cam wants to do is dress Polly up and go to her sister’s house on a Sunday afternoon, with school the following day, but she has no choice. This is the way it is when you have no other siblings, no parents and, for Libby, no offspring. Cam’s absence would be too loaded, even though she went to Gordon’s on her sister’s actual birthday. Even though Libby seems to want multiple birthday celebrations. Cam is needed, and so she throws on a dress and heads over there with Polly.

She hasn’t told a soul about her meeting with Niall. About his revelation. His theory. She’s in a hinterland, afraid to hope, aware that it’s all deep past anyway. That is what Libby would say:What do the semantics matter, the exact turn of events? He’s still gone, still abandoned you.

Cam keeps the truth close to her. An embrace she doesn’t otherwise have.

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