Chapter 127
‘We’ve got her,’ he said. No preamble, no small talk. No making her wait.
‘Is she OK?’
‘She’s got a bloody lip, and her eye looks like it’s had a run-in with an angry bumble bee, but otherwise she’s in good spirits.’
‘I told Matt who hit me and he blew that sucker’s knee right off his leg. Grossest thing I’ve ever seen!’ Esmerée yelled.
Estelle didn’t answer. Poe knew why. She wanted to be brave for Esmerée.
Wanted to make the inevitable shock more manageable when it kicked in later.
When the adrenaline wore off. The hormone extracted a heavy price.
When the shock started, Estelle wanted to be ready with hot sweet tea, words of encouragement, prescribed sedatives.
She didn’t want to exacerbate the situation by bursting into tears.
‘How did it go, Poe?’ Bradshaw asked instead.
‘Better than we could have hoped,’ he replied. ‘We got everything we wanted.’
‘Do you think they’ll leave us alone?’
Poe considered that carefully. Remembered their humiliation. Their loss of face. He didn’t think they would leave them alone. Not for ever. The deepfakes had bought them some time, but the Red Chamber couldn’t leave a threat like that hanging over their heads.
But it wasn’t his job to be a doomsayer.
Not now. His primary focus was getting Esmerée through the next twenty-four hours.
Of making sure she was in a stable position.
She had some big decisions to make. Océane had some big decisions to make.
So instead of saying what he thought, he said, ‘We have what we need for now.’
‘Estelle wants to talk to you.’
But really she wanted to talk to Esmerée. Poe let them chat shit. It was part of the healing process.
When the conversation between them slowed, Poe said, ‘I’m heading back to Highwood. I’ll get Detective Chief Inspector Gilliard to collect Susan Hawksworth, but you might as well leave now.’
‘Tick-Tock’ll look after her until that bellend cop arrives,’ Towler said. ‘But before you leave, do me a favour, Estelle.’
‘What?’
‘Kick her fucking head in.’