Never Return

by Stephen Barnes

  “I don’t have any time for Tom. To the rest of the family he’s an arrogant arsehole.”

  “Are you aware that Maxine was Simeon’s partner?” Curtis asked.

  “Yes, I had the joy of being present at their first meeting.”

  “How come?”

  “A few weeks after our graduation, some of us from uni met up at a bar in Covent Garden. I was staying with a friend in Chelsea. The others were all the London crowd from our course including Simeon. It turned out to be one of the places that Lizzie haunted. She zoomed in when she saw me and then she locked onto Simeon. He never stood a chance.”

  “You don’t like Lizzie either then?”

  “No. I’m well known for my dislikes.”

  “Do you know much else about her?”

  “Not really. We’ve never been friends. I used to see her occasionally but not since that night in Covent Garden although I did hear about her moving up north with Simeon when he got the job at the bank.”

  Charlotte threw the remnants of her cigarette into a nearby puddle and immediately lit another.

  “How did you hear about that?” Curtis enquired.

  “Through the ex-student grape vine.”

  “Tom says he approached the bank at your request regarding a possible vacancy for Simeon. He says you called him about it. Is that right?” Curtis asked.

  “If he told you that, he’s a liar.”

  “You didn’t call Tom about Simeon?”

  “I haven’t spoken to him for years either face to face or on the phone. If he says it was me, he’s a liar.”

  “Could someone have pretended to be you to get Simeon the job?” Turnbull asked.

  Charlotte smiled. “Well I wonder who’d be likely to do that,” she said.

  “Maxine perhaps?”

  “Good guess copper. I doubt if you need to look any further. It’s unlikely Tom would realise it wasn’t me and Lizzie is sly enough to try that sort of thing.”

  “I understand you have another brother, Eddie?” Turnbull enquired.

  “Yes, Eddie’s the youngest.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He works on the continent. Belgium I think. He was at college but he dropped out in the first year.”

  “Do you keep in touch with him?”

  “I hear from him occasionally.”

  “Which college did he go to?”

  “He was at a private college near Hull studying chemistry but he got into some sort of trouble and had to leave. I don’t know the details.”

  “What was the name of the college?”

  “I don’t remember. I wasn’t that interested.”

  “Would Eddie have known the Gilbert brothers?”

  “He may have met them. Eddie was at my graduation ceremony. Mother made me invite him and Tom. I sent Tom a text but he didn’t reply. Eddie came to the party in the evening.”

  “Do you have a number we can call Eddie on?” Curtis asked.

  “No. I only hear from him if he contacts me. He withholds the number.”

  “When was the last time he contacted you?”

  “I don’t remember. It was months ago.”

  “Is Eddie another of your dislikes?”

  “Eddie’s an even bigger arsehole than Tom.”

  “Well thanks for your help Charlotte,” Turnbull said. “We may need a formal statement. Can we contact you again on the number your mother gave us?”

  “If you must.”

  After Charlotte had hurried away, the DCs made their way back to the car.

  “What a bitch,” Turnbull said. “The sister from hell.”

  “Too right,” Curtis agreed. “I got the feeling she might have been closer to Simeon than she was prepared to admit.”

  “And I got the feeling it was what she used to wish for. You can drive back while I call Sergeant Marsh.”

  Chapter 30

  “Any news from Curtis and Turnbull?” Hinton asked, interrupting Evans and Marsh who were conferring in the Inspector’s office.

  “I’ve just spoken to DC Turnbull Sir,” Marsh said. “Charlotte doesn’t like Eddie or Tom for that matter. She says Eddie works on the continent, possibly Belgium. She couldn’t provide any details. Apparently, he was at a private college near Hull studying chemistry but got into trouble and had to leave. She doesn’t know any more than that. Charlotte hears from Eddie occasionally but there’s been no word from him for months and she doesn’t have any contact details.”

  “If Eddie rented unit twelve, his sister’s information is clearly out of date. Is there any certain link between Eddie and the Gilbert brothers?” Hinton asked.

  “Only that he may have met them both at Charlotte and Simeon’s university graduation party.”

  “Was Tom there?”

  “No. He didn’t reply to Charlotte’s invitation.”

  “What else did they get?”

  “Charlotte and Simeon were on the same course for three years. She said Simeon hated drugs and wouldn’t have got involved in drug dealing but she also said he wasn’t a close friend so we can’t rely on her judgement.”

  “What about Michael?”

  “She said she only met him once but we do know more about Maxine. Charlotte revealed that she’s her cousin. She changed her first name from Elizabeth because she thought it was old fashioned. She says Tom wouldn’t have been aware of the change.”

  “Which might explain why he told me he didn’t know her,” Evans added.

  “It might also explain their physical similarity,” Hinton reasoned. “What else was there about Maxine?”

  “Charlotte doesn’t like her but Tessa says she doesn’t seem to like anyone. Maxine and Charlotte have never been friends. Charlotte is aware that Maxine was Simeon’s partner and moved up here with him when he got the job at the bank but she denied asking Tom to find Simeon a job. Seems likely it was Maxine pretending to be Charlotte.”

  “Is that believable?”

  “I’d say so. Charlotte claimed not to have spoken to Tom for years and Maxine would know enough to pass herself off as Charlotte.”

  “We’ll see what Maxine’s got to say for herself when we get her back from London. Did Charlotte give them any more about Tom?”

  “Only that she has no time for him and the rest of the family think he’s an arrogant arsehole,” Marsh replied.

  “Is that the impression he gave you?” Hinton asked Evans.

  “I wouldn’t go quite that far. He isn’t short on self confidence though.”

  Hinton looked at his watch. “He’s due here at four o’clock you said?”

  “Yes. He may know how we can contact Eddie. If not, their mother may be able to help.”

  “Good. Tracing Eddie is now our main priority. I’ll join you both when Lord Thorbury arrives.”

  Hinton and Marsh left Evans in his office to work on his report. All three were curious to hear what Tom Thorbury might have to say but four o’clock came and went and Marsh reappeared to say there was no sign of Tom. Evans rang Tom’s mobile but got voicemail again. He left a message which betrayed his annoyance.

  “Call his office,” Evans instructed Marsh. “Ask where they think he might be and find him.”

  Marsh hurried away as Evans considered the possibility that despite Tom’s claim of remoteness from his brother, they had both been involved with the Gilberts.

  Less than an hour later, Marsh was back. “I spoke to Sandra Peach at Thorbury recruitment,” he told Evans. “According to her, Tom returned from Birmingham at about two thirty this afternoon. He mentioned his appointment with us and left almost immediately. He said he was going to his apartment before coming here. He lives in that plush block at the end of Church Street, about ten minutes walk from Palace House. I went round there but I got no response when I rang his bell so I buzzed a neighbour who said she heard someone leave his flat a little after three thirty. If we assume it was Tom. That would fit with him coming here.”

  “Could he have di
sappeared between his apartment building and the police station?”

  Marsh shrugged. “What do you think?”

  “There may have been a reason why he didn’t want to keep his appointment. We need to put out an alert for all officers to be on the lookout for Tom Thorbury. He’s back on the suspect list.”

  Chapter 31

  Paul arrived home at six thirty expecting Carol to be at the flat, keen to update him about the police interest in the subway but she was nowhere to be found. His puzzlement was interrupted by a call to his mobile from a withheld number.

  “Is that Dr Cahill?” a male voice enquired.

  “Yes.”

  “This is Jerry Haymer. I’m a partner with Hallows and Gunther, Solicitors. The firm Carol works for.”

  “Oh, what’s happened?”

  “Nothing bad. Carol’s in an important meeting otherwise she’d have called you herself. I’m hosting a drinks party tonight at very short notice for all our lawyers and their husbands, wives and partners. We’ve had an excellent year so far and we want to celebrate our success but we also have an important announcement to make.”

  “Sounds good although it doesn’t seem like the sort of thing you’d invite outsiders to.”

  “We like to share our good news Dr Cahill. Will you come? Carol will be going straight from the office. It’s smart casual.”

  “Okay, where do I go?”

  Paul was given the address and asked to arrive at eight o’clock. After a shower, he dressed as instructed and booked a taxi for seven thirty which arrived on time. The driver picked his way through the early evening traffic with exemplary skill and arrived in less than the thirty minutes Paul had allowed.

  It was an impressive 1930s Art Deco detached residence, spoilt by the addition of a pitched slate roof. Paul opened the gate and strolled up the drive. He reached the large front door and rang the bell.

  A smart middle-aged lady answered his ring. “You must be Dr Cahill,” she said in a refined accent.

  “That’s right.”

  “Come in. You’re the first to arrive. Carol isn’t here yet,” the hostess said without introducing herself.

  Paul was pleased to have been expected but sensed that this would be nothing like the parties he was used to. He was led into a large room at the front of the house.

  “What would you like to drink?” the lady asked.

  “Scotch and soda please,” Paul requested, noticing the bottles on the table in the corner.

  The hostess prepared Paul’s drink as he surveyed his surroundings. The decor was old fashioned; flock wallpaper, dark red carpet, oil paintings in ornate picture frames. The furniture was mostly brown leather and polished wood. It seemed appropriate for a senior city lawyer and yet it felt unreal, too neat and tidy, too sterile and unused.

  The doorbell rang as Paul was presented with his whisky. The hostess excused herself and left the room. Paul expected more guests to appear but several minutes passed and he was still alone. He sat in one of the chairs and continued to sip the drink as he waited. His early arrival seemed a logical explanation for the lack of company.

  Paul emptied his glass and placed it on the table next to the chair before leaning back and closing his eyes. When they opened again, there was a vague recollection of being shaken out of a doze but there was no one else within his field of vision. Despite an almost overwhelming drowsiness he forced himself to stand. He staggered into the hall. It was deserted. The front door was deadlocked. He opened one of the other doors. The room was in darkness but in the light from the hall, he could see a dining table with no diners.

  Paul continued his desperate tour of the house as lifeless passageways and empty rooms swirled around him. A dark figure directed him through another door. He found an armchair and sank into its soft fabric.

  A feeling that time had passed was followed by the sound of a voice which seemed to have no source. “You must accept, Dr Cahill, that power will always rest with the elite. You and your kind are nothing to me. Tom Thorbury does as he pleases. The interference of your friends could not be tolerated. Miss Jones has paid the price for her intrusion into my affairs and you are also at my mercy. But I have chosen to be merciful. Take this as a warning. What has happened to your friend could happen to you at any time Tom Thorbury chooses.”

  The words died away as silence prevailed in the dimly lit room. Paul could just make out a human shape seated opposite him. He reached towards the ill defined figure but there seemed to be nothing he could touch.

  “Look at the face Dr Cahill,” the same voice demanded. “Do you see it?”

  At first, Paul could see nothing but suddenly, Carol’s frozen face, eyes closed, loomed into view, glowing in the gloom before it disappeared with equal suddenness.

  “Remember it, Dr Cahill. Remember Carol. Remember Tom’s warning,” the voice said before the sound of a door closing preceded a decent into total darkness. Paul no longer fought against the urge to sleep. More time passed before consciousness returned. The seat in front of him was empty.

  Paul found his way back to the corridor. There was no sign of life inside the house but now, the front door permitted his escape. He stumbled onto the drive. A glimmer of daylight indicated the approach of dawn. The gate at the end of the drive was open. Paul staggered through it onto the street before scurrying silently away from the house.

  Chapter 32

  The ringtone version of ‘In the Mood’ shocked Mr and Mrs Evans into consciousness at two minutes to seven, just before the alarm was due to flood the bedroom with the sound of Radio Four. Evans always left his phone by the side of the bed in case of nocturnal emergencies and Jennifer was often compelled to moan about the disruption to her sleep pattern. This was one of the less serious infractions but she still took the opportunity to complain. “Not another murder Colin. There’ll be no one left alive in Thorbury at this rate.”

  An incoherent babble greeted Evans as he took the call. The only discernible words were, ‘killed her’ and ‘bastard’.

  “Who is this?” Evans asked as a half remembered dream cleared from his memory.

  “It’s Paul. She was in the house last night. She’s dead. I’m sure she’s dead.”

  “Who’s dead? What house?” Evans asked.

  “Carol. They killed her.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At home. They put something in the whisky. It’s hard to explain.”

  “I’ll come round straight away,” Evans said, realising Paul was in no condition to conduct a coherent conversation over the phone.

  Half an hour later, after repeatedly buzzing Paul’s flat, the lock opened and Evans entered the building. He rushed up one flight of stairs to the first floor. Paul, still groggy and confused, let him into the flat.

  “Sit over here,” Evans said, directing Paul towards the sofa. “And tell me what’s happened.”

  Paul sat down and began to explain the events of the previous night as Evans stood in the middle of the living room trying to make sense of the story. The vague recollections became even more confused as Paul’s account reached the point at which the voice had delivered the sinister warning.

  “I was sitting in an armchair. It was dark but I could just make out someone in the chair opposite. It was Carol. He said she’d paid the price for her intrusion. It was Tom Thorbury.”

  “What else did he say?”

  “I don’t remember exactly what he said. I think it was about power. Yes, that was it. He said power was only for the elite.”

  “That’s all?”

  “He said Tom Thorbury does as he pleases, that what had happened to Carol could happen to me whenever he chose.”

  “He was warning you off?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you actually see Tom Thorbury?”

  “No, it was too dark. It was his voice.”

  “The same voice as the man who invited you?”

  “I couldn’t be certain. It might have been.”

&nbs
p; “Why would Tom Thorbury want to kill Carol?”

  “It might be to do with whatever was happening at unit twelve.”

  “The subway was being used as a drugs lab. How could that be linked to Carol and what could anyone gain from killing her?”

  “Revenge, or to show what he was capable of if anyone else interfered in his business.”

  “It’s hard to believe that Tom Thorbury would commit murder for revenge. And if he had anything to do with unit twelve, why would he have provided the information which led Carol there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you sure it was Carol in the chair?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you think Tom killed her then staged a show to warn you off? Wouldn’t it have been easier to kill you as well?”

  “I just know it was him and Carol’s dead and they took her away.”

  “Took her away?”

  “Yes, she wasn’t there when I came round. The house was deserted. I left and managed to flag down a taxi. I would have called you then but they’d taken my phone. When I got home I found your card and called you on the landline.”

  “Where is this house?” Evans asked.

  “I wrote down the address,” Paul said and fished in his trouser pockets. He pulled out a piece of paper which he unfolded before handing it to Evans.

  Evans read the address. “Shoresby, north end of town,” he said. “We need to check it out. Are you fit enough to come with me?”

  “I think so.”

  “I need you to confirm that it’s the right house, then we’ll get you to the hospital for tests.”

  Evans called Marsh who was still at home. He recounted Paul’s story and told the Sergeant to drive to the address in Shoresby.

  After instructing Marsh, Evans helped Paul to his feet and guided him out of the flat. It took a while to reach the car and when they eventually arrived at the house Marsh was already waiting outside.

  “Is this the place?” Evans asked as Paul squinted through the car window at the house.

  “I think so,” Paul said, still confused.

  “Wait here,” Evans instructed before leaving the car and joining Marsh. Evans pushed open the gate and they made their way to the front door. Several presses of the bell led to the conclusion that no one was at home.