Page 46 of Dying Breath
He paused.
‘I promise that between us we will track the killer down and hand him to the police.’
There was a loud shuffling noise from the centre of the room and he turned to see where it was coming from. A grime-stained curtain was pushed to one side and he saw a head pop out from the darkness.
‘Who are you and why would you want to help me? I don’t fucking know you.’
‘Because, my friend, you look like someone who needs my help and I’m in a good mood today.’
Lewis crawled out, his trousers covered in dust, and stood up. His pale face had a sheen of perspiration covering it and his eyes looked wild as they darted from side to side.
‘Mate, you’re a mess. I can help you. I really can.’
‘How the hell are you going to help me?’
‘I was in the club; I saw you arguing with her. I offered to buy her a drink, but she wasn’t interested and then some other guy came over and began flirting with her. She wasn’t interested and told him to go away, but he didn’t. They ended up doing shots together at the bar. When the coppers see me on the CCTV they’re going to want to speak to me. Just like they want to speak to you. And I’m not taking the blame for some sick bastard. You know what they’re like – they’re crap and will just pin it on the first person they can. Well, that’s me and you. I can give you a warm place to stay, food and clothes. As long as you help me to try and find this man.’
Lewis walked towards him, scrutinising him. ‘I saw you in there and I saw you that night in the shop – how did you know where to find me?’
‘I followed you. I was too scared to say anything in the supermarket. Then I saw your photo on the front page of the paper today and knew that I’d be next.’
Lewis ran his hand through his hair and began scratching at the stubble on his face.
‘I’m in the paper?’
He nodded. ‘Front page, huge photograph.’
‘You can let me have a shower and some food?’
He nodded again.
Lewis looked around. ‘I’m not sure I can give my luxury pad up so easily.’ Then he began to laugh: what did he have to lose?
Lewis climbed out of the window first, followed by the man in the overalls. He didn’t even know his name, but if he had food and a soft bed he could lie on he didn’t really care. He felt like shit because he’d finished the last of the whisky, he’d had no drugs for almost a hundred hours and he needed something to ease the pain coursing through his body. The decking of the pier vibrated as the stranger jumped down onto it. Rain had begun to splatter against the wood, which was good because everyone in town would be rushing to take cover. The surface was slippery and Lewis nearly fell over twice in his crappy shoes that were too big for him. The man caught his elbow.
‘This place is a death trap; I can’t believe the council haven’t knocked it down.’
‘They’re too tight, that’s why. So where do you live?’
‘In a house nearby; look, my van is parked across the road. I’ll go first and open the rear doors – you come over and jump in. I can’t risk you sitting in the front; someone might recognise you.’
Lewis nodded.
Five minutes later Lewis was in the back of the very clean, empty van with just a royal-blue picnic blanket to sit on. He squatted on the floor and held onto the side of the van. He couldn’t see where the man was taking him and he didn’t care. The thought of something warm to eat and drink filling his loud, rumbling stomach was all that mattered.
When the van came to a stop and the doors opened, Lewis was surprised to see it was parked on the drive of a big, detached house. The drain-cleaning business must be a gold mine; hell, he’d consider unblocking drains to have this sort of money. He got out of the van. There were no neighbours close by so he didn’t have to worry about being seen. The man led him up the steps to the front door and opened it, allowing him to enter. The house was nice, but it was pretty empty, with very few furnishings. His footsteps echoed as he walked along the tiled floor.
‘The kitchen is straight down and the last door on the right, although I think a hot shower first would be a better idea. I can make us some food whilst you get cleaned up.’
Lewis nodded; he did want a shower. He might be a drug addict, but he’d always tried to take care of himself and his cleanliness was very important to him.
‘Shower first, mate, if that’s okay with you?’
‘I’ll show you to your room – it’s got an en-suite so you can choose for yourself whether you want a bath or a shower. I’ll get you some clean stuff and put it on the bed for you.’
Lewis knew that this was too good to be true – no one was ever this nice to him or that trusting of him. How did this guy not know that he wasn’t going to rob him blind the minute his back was turned? Not that he would; he wasn’t the kind of person to kick a gift horse in the mouth.Really? What about poor Stacey? You certainly kicked her a few times?He felt a crushing wave of grief squeeze the inside of his chest and then it was gone. It was all about self-preservation for now; he had to find her killer and he needed somewhere to hide where the coppers would never in a million years find him. They wouldn’t even know where to start: this was the perfect set-up. The pair of them could work together to find Stacey’s killer and then they’d both be free. For all he knew, if he cleaned up his act the bloke whose name he’d never asked might even give him a job. Fresh start and all that – maybe his luck had finally changed.
Chapter Forty-Three
