Chapter 62
Kelly felt her face hit the floor and a body on top of her, but she could tell by the smell that it wasn’t an assailant’s; it was Johnny’s.
She heard him grunt and saw Melvin’s feet, wearing over large CAT boots that didn’t fit him properly, right next to her head, as the kitchen filled with screams and shouts to get down and hold hands in the air.
She was so winded that she couldn’t move at all.
And Johnny was a dead weight on top of her.
‘That fucking hurts,’ he said under his breath, and she could hear that he was holding it in for her.
Then she felt the warm liquid on her trousers and looked down as far as her neck would twist and saw the blood.
She wriggled and fought so hard that eventually she was able to turn around and get Johnny’s weight off her so she could move.
She saw Paul on the ground, Melvin struggling with uncharacteristic strength, though still in vain, with an officer who had to resort to punching him in the ribs to restrain him, and Sandy crying.
Kelly saw that she’d decided to play the innocent woman act.
‘It’s all a mistake,’ she whimpered. ‘They’ll tell you! It’s those two you want, not me.’
‘Medic!’ somebody shouted, and calls of ‘Clear, clear,’ rang out in the small house.
She looked at Johnny’s side where Melvin had plunged the knife in, and he slumped onto her.
‘No, Christ, Johnny, stay with me.’
Two paramedics took over and she crawled out of their way as they found the wound and began checking Johnny’s vital signs.
He held out his hand for her to take and she knelt beside him and took it.
He squeezed it and she smiled at his face.
But his eyes closed, and the paramedics yanked his body upwards and onto a stretcher.
Then he was gone.
She was left sitting on the floor, with her trousers covered in blood, staring at the ruby ring he’d given to her years ago, when they’d been in love and before Lizzie had been born. It was the most precious thing she had, after Lizzie.
The rubies were the colour of his blood.
She clasped her hands together and stared at the scene.
Johnny’s blood was on the floor and her professional brain tried to assess if he’d be able to survive the loss of volume, and perhaps where on his body Melvin had stabbed him.
A millimetre could make all the difference.
Things paramedics said flashed through her mind.
Their calculations, their assessments, their sucked-in teeth when all was lost.
She got up, keen to avoid touching anything lest she contaminate the scene.
Paul had been arrested for the murder of Tilda Dent and taken outside to a waiting squad car. Sandy was bundled into a second one and the ambulance carrying Johnny had already left.
‘Nobody else in the house, ma’am.’
‘Are you sure?’ she asked.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
An armed response officer offered her a towel and she took it gratefully.
But Kevin Streeting was still at large, with a loaded weapon.
And she had no idea if he was a patient too.
A loud pop-crack made them all duck, then all Kelly heard was radio crackle and the rushing of feet through bushes. Then a shouting match and a single round firing off into the trees.
Then silence.
She raised her head, and the firearms officer called the all-clear. The second in as many minutes. She stood warily.
She looked to where the commotion had taken place.
It turned out Kevin Streeting wasn’t all that great a shot after all. Paramedics were called over to assist and she saw him put up a fight, even though he’d been shot.
Her phone buzzed and she answered it but couldn’t speak.
It was Kate.
‘Kelly, everything go to plan?’
‘No,’ was all she could say.
Then she began to sob.