Chapter 78 Push
We walk and wheel in silence alongside the river. I check my phone. There are eighteen messages from Cait about her investigation, but I’m not in the mood to engage with her delusions. I make a note to myself to convince her to move the focus from Hollis, as he must be my future now.
We arrive at our romantic spot with views of Westminster and the London Eye. The place I was going to kill him and where he proposed. We’ve said little, and I’m buttoned up against the cold. I put my handbag on the arm of his wheelchair and push my hands deep into the pockets of my Prada coat.
He looks up at me, expectant. If it’s honesty Hollis wants, then I can be honest, but people rarely enjoy it when they get what they ask for.
If Hollis’s will is not in my name, it means there’s no advantage to killing him.
A necessary precaution for a billionaire, and quite a helpful impediment to the murderous urges that used to punctuate my relationship with Hollis.
I’ll try to enjoy his wealth, at least until I find a way to convince him to change the will.
‘I’ve got no evidence, Lalla,’ he says. ‘You can just walk away now if you want. But I love you, and if you love me, you’ll tell me the truth.’
‘What exactly do you suspect me of?’
‘I know what you are. You told me all about yourself and your deeds during your drunken rambles, and I loved you more for it. But there’s been this doubt I’ve had for a long time.’
‘Then make the accusation, Hollis.’
‘Did you push me off the mountain?’ he says and stares at me fiercely.
I pause. I’ve rarely been confronted with the things I’ve done, and I’m not sure of the best response.
‘What would I possibly have gained from killing you?’ I ask.
‘Not all crimes are about satisfying material needs. Some are more psychological.’
Hollis stares at me in silence. I see him try to swallow. I feel the gulf between us.
‘You seem to remember all the good things about us, but it wasn’t all good,’ I say.
Hollis loved me in the beginning. He even loved the rage, anger, and transgression.
It allowed me to feel free and I told him things I’d never told anyone in my life.
And then, day by day, comment by comment, he slowly started to hold it against me.
He used it to cut me off from other people, remove my freedom, take away access to money, until the noose was so tight around my neck, I either had to beg for air or push back.
‘You forced me to stay with you, that was the truth.’
‘You were free to go whenever you wanted,’ he says.
‘You threatened to tell people what I’d told you in confidence. That’s not freedom.’
‘I didn’t threaten. I just said you needed looking after. I was trying to keep you from harming yourself again, or someone else.’
‘When we arrived in France, I wanted to leave you. We talked about it. You said I couldn’t. You took my passport away.’
‘Where would you have gone, Lalla? You had no money, you were . . .’ He looks up at me, silent for a moment. ‘You were a danger to yourself.’
‘I just wanted to be free,’ I say.
‘So you pushed me off the mountain,’ he concludes.
‘You suffocated me,’ I say.
‘So you smashed my legs to pieces and left me for dead!’ he shouts, and indicates his legs and missing scrotum with a dramatic sweep of his hand.
‘This isn’t getting us anywhere, Hollis. The past is the past.’ I frown and bite my lip a little, which I hope shows regret.
‘And will there be other mistakes? You know I’m rich now, too. Must be tempting.’
‘You asked for the truth. I told you. I don’t know if I wanted to kill you or not. I just wanted to escape. Don’t you ever feel like that?’
‘I don’t push people off mountains,’ he says.
I look at him. The smile has disappeared, and he’s staring at me with something that looks a lot like hatred.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘You’re a liar,’ he says.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You planned to kill me on Saturday,’ he shouts, then wheels up to me, grabs my lapel, and pushes me backwards with one arm.
I can’t pull away from his grip, and he shoves me against the barrier.
It swings open, but he doesn’t let me go.
He holds me there, leaning backwards. If he pushed me now, I would fly down the steps and into the river.
‘Stop!’ I shout.
‘You were going to do it right in this spot until you realized I was rich. I saw that the padlocks had been cut. Not enough to try to kill a man once, heh?’
I’m lost for words. I feel a horrible, dawning realization that Hollis has got the better of me.
With his free hand, he pulls his shooting pistol from the side of his wheelchair and presses it into my stomach.
I feel an almost visceral shame at being duped by someone feigning to love me.
Why did I not see through all his games?
‘Are you going to kill me?’ I ask. ‘You knew what I was, Hollis, and you tried to destroy that side of me, but I won’t be tamed by you or anyone. And I’ll always fight for my life.’
‘I want people to know who you are and what you’ve done,’ he says. ‘I want your husband, children and friends to know you’re a cold-blooded killer. I want to see you ruined and humiliated.’
‘Every man’s dream,’ I say and spit in his face.
This is a mistake. He shoves me hard. My feet fall off the step, and I lose a shoe. I’m leaning backwards, staring into the barrel of a gun, with his one fist keeping me from the icy water, when he says, ‘Watch out, rocks!’