Miss No One Mark Ayre (children's books read aloud TXT) 📖

"Okay, that's enough," said Abbie. "You know full well I had nothing to do with Kilman's shooting."

“I know nothing about you or your intentions.”

“No?” Abbie raised her free hand and tapped her chin. “And yet, earlier today, when you learned someone had murdered your au pair and kidnapped Isabella, you threw me against a wall and not in a sexy way.” She resisted the urge to wink. “Your detective friend—Moore, was it?—had to drag you away to stop you pummelling my head into the wall. You can’t have forgotten.”

Eyes bulging, Ndidi forced open his mouth, and Abbie could almost see the words on his lips: What’s your point? But he couldn’t verbalise them because he knew Abbie’s point. He realised he’d made a mistake in not reacting with more fury to Abbie's arrival, in not pretending still to believe Abbie was involved in Isabella's kidnapping.

"That anger has dissipated in the intervening hours not because you have achieved a hard-fought serenity over the issue of your missing daughter," said Abbie, "but because you have spoken with the kidnappers and therefore know for a fact they and I are not in cahoots."

It looked as though Ndidi might fight this claim, but Abbie wasn't done, and she pressed on.

"You know I'm not responsible for your daughter's kidnap, nor for shooting Kilman. You know I’m not responsible for Kilman because you are."

Abbie leaned forward and nodded to the phone, which remained in Ndidi's hand.

"Now," she said, "I think it's time to put that down and start being honest."

Twenty-Three

Abbie hadn't expected her request for truth to result in an immediate outpouring of honesty from the pent up detective. She expected to push his rage beyond the point where he could control it, and this expectation was met.

Ndidi didn't explode with fury, but it laced his quiet words with venom. "You vile bitch. You make me sick."

The words had no effect on Abbie other than to make her roll her eyes.

"Come on," she said. "Kilman saw the truth before taking several bullets to the chest. He realised a uniformed police officer had lured him to the school because he had rejected something you requested. That was what he said: 'I told Ndidi no.' So you can call me a liar, but I don't need your confirmation. This I know to be true, and I'll tell the police the same if they catch me."

Ndidi still had his phone.

"They'll never believe you."

"You don't reckon?"

Ndidi wanted to respond but found he couldn't. The words caught in his throat.

"The problem for you," said Abbie, "is that it sounds true. After your daughter was kidnapped, it makes sense the kidnappers would contact you. It’s clear they only took Isabella because they need something from you. It can't be money, because you don't earn enough. I believe they're looking to rob Lucky Draw. Gary says you work there, but let's say, for a moment, he's lying."

"He is lying," said Ndidi. The venom remained in each word.

"Okay," said Abbie. "But let's assume the kidnappers want to rob Lucky Draw. It's hard enough to swipe large quantities of cash from beneath the nose of fellow dangerous criminals. How much more difficult would it be if the police swarmed the place before the crooks get out? Orion has plenty of experience evading police capture, but following recent experiences, perhaps he's a little jumpier than usual. When he called, what did he demand for the safe return of your daughter?"

Looking at his phone, Ndidi searched for the right combination of words, not to convince Abbie he would call the police, but to convince himself he was safe to do so.

"I think they asked you to propose something to your superiors, and I think you told them Kilman would reject the idea. They said they could deal with the DCI if he was to be a problem. They probably didn't spell it out, but you would have known what that meant."

Abbie sat back in the armchair, let this sink in. Ndidi was still fighting a losing battle against his reflexive expressions.

"You might be a bad man," said Abbie. “But on this, at least, I can probably give you the benefit of the doubt. It was a choice: your daughter's life or Kilman's. And what a simple choice, when boiled down to such simplistic terms. You tried to save Kilman by proposing what the kidnappers wanted anyway. But he blocked the suggestion as you knew he would, and you didn't dare confess to him what this would mean. You let the kidnappers proceed with their removal plan. Of course, you would also have told them my name and how I could be acquired, so they could deal with Kilman and me at the same time. You never specifically asked for anything, but in what you told the kidnappers, you signed our death warrants."

Ndidi was trying to make his face do something. Abbie pointed.

"Is that supposed to be righteous indignation?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said. "You're a vindictive, lying cow."

"Stop it. You're starting to sound like my mother."

Ndidi trembled. He turned left and right as though he knew he had to start pacing but was sure his fury would cause him to burst straight through a wall. He was trying to decide if he wanted to pulverise the wall between living room and neighbour's place or between living room and hallway.

Abbie rose from the armchair. Her gun remained at her side, clasped in a loose fist.

"You can call the police, and I'll tell them everything I've told you. You'll call me a liar, but will they believe you? They’ll realise how suspicious is it that Kilman turned down your plan and was shot hours later. Even if they lock me up and throw away the key, might they not also reject your proposal, just to be on the safe side? What would the kidnappers do then?"

Free fist clenching and unclenching on repeat, eyes shimmering, Ndidi began to shake his head. He let his phone-holding hand