River of Souls Read Online Free Page A

really. It’s been gradual, over the past few months.’
    It didn’t surprise me that her recovered memory process had been fragmentary. Victims of violence often kept their experiences buried for decades. ‘Do you feel able to talk about it?’
    ‘Of course, but what’s the point? The police didn’t find him. You won’t catch him all by yourself.’ Something bitter-edged lurked behind her words. It sounded like she was determined not to raise her hopes.
    ‘I shouldn’t brag, but I’m pretty good at my job, and you’ll be helping me. Criminals are often brought to justice years after the fact. You remember that from your law studies, don’t you?’
    ‘We both know the chances of him being convicted are thousands to one.’
    ‘But that’s what you want, isn’t it?’
    ‘More than anything.’
    ‘So we’re agreed. If you tell me what you remember, we’ve got nothing to lose.’
    She sucked in a long breath before answering. ‘It’s hazy, but I know he carried me from the car to the river.’ She took an aerosol from her bedside cabinet and lifted the brim of her hat by a fraction before spraying something on her face. ‘He tied a mask over my eyes until he cut me. I don’t remember that part, thank God, but I heard him crying. He said the river was waiting for my soul. Then he threw me in.’
    ‘Do you remember anything else?’
    ‘His voice was muffled, but I think I’d heard it before.’
    ‘It was someone you know?’
    ‘Maybe it was just his accent that was familiar. West London, like mine.’
    ‘Did you see him clearly at any point?’
    ‘Only for a moment. When I try to picture him, there’s nothing there.’ Her voice faded to a whisper, revealing her exhaustion.
    ‘That’s enough for today. I promised your mum not to tire you, but I’d like to talk again. Would that be okay?’
    ‘I’m not sure.’ There was a long pause before she spoke again. ‘You’re afraid to look at me, aren’t you?’
    ‘Not at all, but the nurse said it upsets you when people stare.’
    ‘How will you find him, if you can’t even face what he did?’ The anger in her voice came out of the blue.
    ‘I’d like to see you.’ My heart raced as I put down my notebook. ‘Working together’s going to be easier if we can talk openly.’
    In a series of quick movements she flicked on a bedside light then pulled off her hat. I gazed back steadily, trying not to reveal my shock. A waterfall of gorgeous chestnut hair spilled across her shoulders, but everything else was ruined. The photos hadn’t prepared me for the extent of her injuries. There was a broad scar across her throat, an oxygen tube feeding into her trachea. Her face was a patchwork of skin grafts, nothing inside her right eye socket except shadows, a livid gash where her lips should have been. But the most disturbing thing was her remaining eye. It explained why she’d used the aerosol. The eyelid had been torn away, leaving her unable to blink, so it would need hydration every few minutes. But it was the one feature she could control. She stared back at me, judging my reactions. I held her gaze for a long breath before speaking again.
    ‘I’ll do everything I can to find who hurt you, Jude, but it won’t be easy. I’d like to try a technique called memory recovery to help you remember your attacker. It’s a type of hypnosis.’
    ‘Ask me any questions you like.’ The light flicked off again. ‘But I don’t believe it’ll change anything.’
    When I looked up again, her veneer of bravery was cracking apart. Her eye carried on staring at me, unable to close, while air sighed from the ventilator.
     

5
     
    I stood by the landing window to steady myself. The Custom House dominated the opposite shore, large and prosperous from extorting ships’ taxes for eight centuries. Rain spattered the glass, but it no longer mattered that the summer was a washout, or that Burns didn’t care about me. Compared to Jude Shelley’s suffering, I was