Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
Is she really still running with this? I have to remind myself that Erin’s unwell, and that, according to Dr Wainwright, her psychopathy is such that she really does believe that she and Samantha are genuinely two separate people. I’ll run with it too, if it keeps her talking on the line.
‘Don’t you see, Dan, she’s setting me up! She’s doing it all over again! Oh my God…’ Her breathing suddenly increases, as though it’s just dawned on her. ‘My hair! She cut my hair once, do you remember, Dan, I told you about it!’
Is she trying to gaslight me, manipulate me into believing that somehow Samantha Valentine conveniently has kept strands of her hair all this time?
And yet, now I think of it, I do vaguely recall her mentioning it.
‘During those months I spent with her, Sam trimmed my hair on a couple of occasions, you know, like when friends give each other a makeover? She must’ve kept some of it – kept hold of some of my hair!
And she’s planted it at a crime scene that I was never at, that I had nothing to do with.
Oh. My. God.’ She lets out a succession of short breaths.
‘Why is she doing this to me, Dan? What did I ever do to her? What does she want from me?’
The anguish in her voice is uncomfortable to listen to. She sounds so tormented. She needs help.
‘That bitch planted my hair on him after she killed him.’
‘Did something happen between you? Did you have a sexual encounter with Milo? Did he ghost you afterwards and you felt used and worthless? Were you upset by his callous treatment of you? Is that why you killed him, Erin?’
She pauses.
‘I didn’t kill him.’ Her voice is level and calm. Why does it sound as if she’s telling the truth? What does the truth even sound like? I don’t know, but I know when I hear it because I feel it – we all do.
‘She killed him. I don’t know why she killed him. But who knows, maybe you’re right, maybe she was stalking him…’
‘Who said anything about stalking him?’
She snorts.
‘Don’t try and trip me up, Dan. It doesn’t become you and you’re better than that.
Besides, we both know that’s exactly what she was probably doing.
Though I’d say she targeted people more than stalked them.
Stalkers tend to want to be close to their object of obsession.
I think Samantha just wanted to destroy hers – like some kind of sick power game.
She’s more like an assassin in that respect. ’
‘Well, I guess you know her best.’ I pause. ‘Why don’t I come to you, Erin? Just me, alone, no one else. Please? We can talk, face-to-face. Just two people, meeting up for a coffee and a chat.’
‘What, so that you can lure me in and then lock me back up in the booby hatch again?’ She scoffs.
‘I think I’ll have to politely decline your invitation on this occasion, Dan – much as I’d like to meet you in the flesh.
Tell me, was there any other DNA found at the crime scene?
Was it just mine and Tilly’s and the victim’s, or was there someone else’s, because—’
‘We paid the Bull and Barrow a visit,’ I interject. ‘You did a good clean-up job, Erin. Why don’t we save ourselves some time here and meet up? It’ll make it so much easier for both of us. No bells and whistles, no drama – just me. I promise I’ll do my best by you, Erin, you have my word on that.’
‘Your best!’ Her laugh is derisive. ‘D’you know, I actually really did trust you, Dan.
I thought that maybe you believed me, that you were the one who had the ability to see past the lies and prejudices and would conduct a proper investigation, do what should’ve been done from the beginning, only it seems you’re just the same underneath as the rest of them.
Worse perhaps, because I’d been willing to put that trust in you.
Oh, whatever,’ – she lets out a protracted sigh – ‘I really should be used to being let down by now, shouldn’t I? But at least it shows one thing.’
‘What’s that, Erin?’
‘That even after everything that’s happened to me, I’m still capable of putting my trust in someone.’ She laughs. ‘Good God, I really am doomed!’
‘Malcolm is concerned about you, Erin.’ I pull out my ace card. I need her to stay on the line – we need that trace. ‘He’s genuinely concerned about your well-being. Actually, he asked me to give you a message.’
My work phone flashes.
Attempting trace now, gov.
‘Would you like to hear it, Erin?’
She pauses long enough to have me worried that she may have hung up again.
‘Go on then,’ she says, quietly. ‘For what it’s worth.’
‘He said to tell you, “There’s no need to be.” I think it was in response to your message, which I duly relayed to him, by the way. I am a man of my word, Erin. I know you think that you can’t trust me, but you can.’
She blows air through her lips.
‘Now you see, this is where you let yourself down, Dan. Surely you must know by now that you shouldn’t really trust anyone, not a hundred per cent, not even yourself, in fact, sometimes especially not yourself!
Trust is a precious, fragile gift that takes a lifetime to build, and yet only the most ephemeral moment – a brief second – to shatter and destroy. ’
‘There’s a whole task force out there searching for you, Erin. Your face is all over the news and social media.’
‘Thanks to you!’
‘Let’s put an end to this now, eh? Call it a day?’
‘Yes, Dan, let’s,’ she says before she hiccups loudly.
‘Whoops, please excuse me,’ she apologises.
‘Where are my manners? I’m afraid I’m suffering from a touch of indigestion after eating a rather large supper tonight.
Funny,’ she says, ‘but while I was eating, I thought of that picture in Dr Wainwright’s office. ’
‘The painting of himself, the portrait, you mean?’
‘You saw that one too, huh? Like, just how much does Dr Wainwright think of himself, right?’ she snorts. ‘That great fancy tribute to himself on the wall that he looks at and admires every day – what a narcissist. No, I meant the painting next to the crucifix on the wall.’
I cast my mind back. ‘The biblical one – the Last Supper, you mean?’
I wonder what the relevance is and why she’s mentioned it. Is she trying to tell me that she’s just eaten her last supper?
My stomach clenches as another message from Davis flashes up.
Possible alibi for Erin on NOM just come through! CCTV from street cam in Leeds, date Their foot shall slip in due time; For the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things to come hasten upon them.” Deuteronomy 32:35.’
‘And that’s what you’d say to her, is it, if you met Samantha, face-to-face?’
‘Yes—’ she says, ‘right before I kill her.’