‘Who dragged you out?’
‘She did. Katherine.’
‘Let me be clear on this. She dragged you out and spared you, despite the fact that Sandy was alive and unharmed?’
Mickery nodded.
‘The gun was empty. She never intended for us to die. It was all a big fucking joke.’
Helen sat back in her chair, processing this new development.
‘Why, Hannah? Why did she spare you?’
‘Because she wanted me to give you a message.’
‘A message?’
‘I was to contact Brooks, but speak to you. Only to you.’
‘And what is that message?’
‘I commend you.’
Helen waited for more, but nothing was forthcoming.
‘That’s it?’
Mickery nodded. ‘I commend you,’ she repeated. There was no way she wasn’t giving this message, Helen thought to herself.
‘What does it mean?’ Hannah Mickery’s question was desperate. As if Helen’s answer could make sense of her terrible experiences.
‘It means we’re getting closer to the killer.’
‘Who is she?’
Helen paused. What to tell her?
‘I can’t be certain, Hannah. Not yet.’
Hannah snorted – disbelief writ large on her face.
‘And what am I supposed to do whilst you’re playing cops and robbers?’
‘We can offer you secure accommodation and personal protection if that’s what -’
‘Don’t bother.’
‘I mean it, Hannah, we can look af-’
‘You think anything you do will stop her? She’s not going to be beaten. She’s going to win. Don’t you see that?’
Mickery’s eyes blazed. She looked completely demented.
‘Let me call you a doctor, Hannah. I really think -’
‘I hope you can sleep at night.’
Mickery gripped her arm, pinching the skin sharply.
‘Whatever it is you’ve done, I hope you can sleep at night.’
Helen left the interview to seek the station doctor, with Mickery’s words still ringing in her ears. Her accusation had been prophetic and troubling. Helen was so engrossed in her chain of thought that at first she didn’t notice that someone was calling her name.
Whittaker. She should have been expecting this. Inwardly, Helen cursed herself for not having a battle plan ready for this tricky situation.
‘How is she? Did you manage to get anything out of her?’
His tone was business-like, but Helen could tell he was tense. He was a good politician, a good actor, but he was rattled. He had no idea what sort of state Mickery was in and what she was saying. She could destroy his career in a couple of sentences.
‘She’s in a bad way, sir. But she’s bearing up and cooperating.’
‘Good, good.’ Not very convincing, thought Helen.
‘What about the lawyer?’ Whittaker continued. ‘Is he…?’
‘We’re not sure at the moment. It looks as though she might have let them both go.’