“We can’t ask Donna Graham,” said Isobel. “She’s very biased towards Thomas. If we ask her she’ll tell him immediately. If we want to keep him in the dark, then we have to find another way. She could already have aroused his suspicions with my story of being an old friend.”
There was a silence.
Then Isobel said, “Surely hospital records would show that Mrs Graham gave birth to two daughters. Can we not find that out without Thomas or her mother knowing?”
Simon pursed his lips. “I’m not sure they hand out that information to the public. What about the sister? Could she check with her family doctor?”
“If he knows,” said Peter. “They could have had any number of doctors over the years.”
Isobel opened her mouth to speak again but Simon, pacing, clicked his fingers.
“You’re proposing this theory of two Annes. If we had some old fingerprints from the younger Anne we could compare them with the set of present ones from the coffee cup. That would show if a substitution has occurred.” Simon seemed to grow taller as he spoke and continued pacing up and down the room.
Isobel blinked. “You’re right. That is brilliant.”
Simon grinned. “I have done this before, you know.”
Isobel smiled back.
“Can we talk to Claire now?” Simon asked.
Isobel nodded and pulled out her phone, knowing that Claire would also have been on tenterhooks.
“Claire, hi, this is Isobel.”
“Well, what’s the news?”
“The DNA supports what you said – the Anne Banks we’ve met is not your blood sister.”
“I knew that.”
“I know. Well, now the police are taking this seriously and they need a few things clarified.”
“Like what? What’s not clear? Someone is impersonating my sister and God knows what has happened to her and we need to find out what!”
Isobel moved over to the apartment window as she talked. “Claire, we’re going to find out what’s going on. I have a policeman friend here and he’s helping us. We have to be calm and build a case, not rush in and mess things up. I know this is hard, but we have to be guided by Simon.”
Simon smiled at Isobel with raised eyebrows. Isobel rolled her eyes at him.
“I’m impatient and annoyed too, Claire,” she said. “I think what you’re saying is true but the police –”
Simon gestured for the phone.
“Hold on, Claire, I’m putting you on speaker phone.”
“Hello, Claire. My name is Simon Jones and I am a Detective Inspector with the Metropolitan Police.”
“Hello.”
“Claire, I need to build a picture, based on evidence, of what’s going on here. To do that I need some more information.”
“OK. What do you need to know?”
He gestured for Isobel to continue.
Isobel took a deep breath. “Claire, is there any possibility that you are adopted or that Anne is?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Look at the two of us – most people think that we’re twins!”
“True,” Isobel said, “but there is another woman walking around who looks very like your sister so, unless you’re all related, that proves things like this can happen.”
Simon lifted his eyebrows at her and grinned over at Jeff.
“Jesus! Are you sure the police want to help us? It sounds to me like they’re just thinking up delay tactics. At this rate Thomas will get everything and nobody will be any the wiser.”
Simon opened his mouth to speak but Isobel shook her head at him. “I know, I know. But the police are just eliminating all the other possibilities.”
Simon nodded enthusiastically at her and Isobel turned away from him. She sat down, weary from all of the talk. “Please, Claire. I need the help of the police. We can’t do all of this ourselves. Please jump through the hoops they need for them to stay on the case.”
Claire clicked her tongue. Isobel waited.
“OK, Isobel. But for you and Patricia and the solicitor we wouldn’t even have got this far. So for that reason I’ll co-operate.”
“Thanks, Claire. Right. How long have you had your doctor?”
“I’ve had the same doctor my whole life.”
“Great. We just need to know if there’s any possibility that you or Anne were adopted.”
“I’ll go and see him first thing tomorrow and ask him.”
Simon said, “Get him to write a letter stating the facts clearly.”
“OK.”
Isobel said, “Now, the second thing is, it would be helpful if we had an old set of Anne fingerprints.”
“We want something that Anne touched,” said Simon. “Something only people we know touched as well so that we can eliminate them.”
“God, I don’t know. I haven’t seen Anne for so long – I don’t think I have anything.”
Isobel said, “What about a card she sent you?”
Simon said, “No, that could have fingerprints from customers and people who work in the shop.”
Isobel suddenly shouted out.
Claire called down the phone, “What? What?”
“Oh my God, Claire! You have a letter, what about that?”
Simon grinned. “Yes, that’s more like it. We can get your fingerprints, Claire, and eliminate them and the others should be Anne’s.”
Claire was silent.
“What is it?” Isobel said.
“I burned the letter. Anne was so stressed about Thomas and I was really angry so I got rid of it once I’d read it.”
Simon groaned and massaged his forehead.
Isobel paced up and down then stopped suddenly. “I know someone who has something Anne wrote on, that she touched.”
“Who?”
“Brian Poole. He said that he saw Anne a few months ago. She wrote down a number on some paper and handed it to him.”
Claire said, “Why did she go to him? Why didn’t she come to me?”
Isobel chewed her lip. “I think she knew that Thomas would suspect you and maybe she thought he wouldn’t think of Brian.”
Claire was silent for some moments and then she said, “OK, Isobel. You’ve got us this far – I’ll trust you another while but please . . .”
“I know, Claire. Just help with this step.”
“OK, I’ll get the letter from the doctor and hopefully the piece of paper from Brian tomorrow.”
“Yes, bring it to Jeff in the lab,” Simon said.
Jeff said, “Hi again, Claire. Please wear gloves when you’re collecting the piece of paper and can you also collect a sample of Brian’s fingerprints on a mirror so I can use them for comparison? Just wipe the mirror clear, wearing gloves yourself, and get Brian to put each finger and thumb on it – both hands. Keep the mirror in a bag then to protect it and the same with the piece of paper.”
“OK, Jeff.”
“I think I touched the paper too,” Isobel said.
“OK, I’ll get your prints now.”
Patricia stood up. “I’ll get a mirror.”
“I’ll process everything as quickly as I can,” said Jeff, “but realistically it will probably be tomorrow afternoon. And, Claire, the sooner I get the prints, the better.”
“No problem, Jeff. I’ll be as fast as I can.” She hung up.
Simon turned to Isobel. “What else did Brian tell you?”
Isobel looked at Peter. He subtly shook his head. “He said something that I need to get confirmation on. Hopefully I can do that tomorrow. The DNA results might swing it in terms of getting the information.”
Simon frowned.
Isobel, searching for something to divert attention, said, “Peter, who is your client? Assuming there’s no adoption, is your client the original Anne Banks or this imposter?”
Peter grimaced. “I’ve been thinking about that. It’s not exactly a textbook case. I’ll have to check out the legal issues. It could be a minefield so I’ll have to be very circumspect
about things. I might even have to get legal representation myself.”
“OK, OK,” Simon cut in. “You can talk about all of that yourselves. Let’s meet at two o’clock tomorrow. Jeff will let us know if it’s going to be later.”
They all said goodnight.
Isobel and Patricia were quiet on the way home. Isobel felt too tired and stressed to talk to Dave. He knew her too well and would only worry. So she sent him a text.
Having an exciting time. Staying a few more days. Talk tomorrow.
Isobel went to bed with a heavy heart. She was exhausted. She felt tears coming. It had been a strain today with Brian and Julia, trying to get them to talk, and then later dealing with Simon and Claire. She felt worn out trying to move things forward and balance all of the different needs and wants and personalities.
Patricia came back into the sitting room and perched on a chair. “Are you all right?”
Isobel sat up, wiping her eyes. “It’s just been a long day.”
“It’s hard to believe what’s happening? How did you know?”
Isobel shook her head and shrugged, her eyes glistening. “I don’t know.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and brushed her hand over her eyes.
“I know you’re tired and that meeting this evening was tough, but we’re making progress.”
“I know. It’s just hard to be patient and wait for all the evidence Simon wants. I know he’s doing his job, but I feel as if time is running out.”
“I’ll help as much as I can.”
“Thanks. You’ve been great.”
Patricia went to bed and Isobel lay on the sofa-bed, reflecting on Claire’s revelation and the story that Brian had told her. Despite Julia’s evasiveness, Isobel felt that Brian had been telling the truth. Where was Anne? That question disturbed her, but the possible answers disturbed her even more. She tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable and eventually fell into a fitful sleep.
She was standing in a bedroom. She stilled. Her heart hammered against her chest, the beat of it resounding in her ears. Her stomach flipped and danced and flipped again. She knew he was behind her. He had made no sound but she knew.
She could feel the threat in the air, emanating from him.
She turned slowly. His eyes locked into hers as if seeing into her soul. They were full of knowing and rage.
Panic filled her throat until she felt she couldn’t take a breath. She swallowed and opened her mouth to speak. He twitched his lips, a fraction, barely perceptible, and her voice died in her throat.
With appalling certainty she realised the danger she was in. Any fight she had left in her trickled away. Time slowed. A sense of inevitability crept over her and strangely it brought a calmness, an absence of fear, almost relief.
He moved. As her eyes registered his advance she backed away until her legs were pressed against the bed.
He towered over her. His hands reached out towards her, big strong hands, cruel and punishing. They fastened onto her throat and tightened. His face contorted in rage and hatred and his hands kept step. She closed her eyes. From far away she could hear him screaming, “Look at me!” but she kept her eyes closed.
He shook her, her ears tuning out the torrent of words. His hands tightened in temper and frustration. She could feel the pressure building in her head. Her face felt red and flushed, her eyes straining. She had no breath left, her throat so constricted. As the darkness came she could feel herself surrender.
Isobel woke gasping and reaching to dislodge the invisible hands around her throat. Her heart hammered in her chest. She dragged in deep sustaining breaths. She was bathed in sweat, cowering in the corner of the sofa-bed. She wrapped her arms around herself and took some deep breaths. Gradually her heartbeat slowed and her breathing steadied. She swallowed hard and was surprised to find that her throat was not tender and constricted. Shakily she stood up and padded to the kitchen to get a drink of water. Looking out of the window into the darkened city, she shivered. This dream, this nightmare, this was what she believed had happened to Anne Banks. Silently tears bathed her cheeks.
Chapter 23
Monday 28th May
Shaken after her dreams, it was a relief for Isobel to stay in bed until ten o’clock the next morning. Once up, as daylight and normality dispelled the tension she felt, she felt determined to talk to Julia as soon as possible. She contacted her and they arranged to meet at eleven o’clock.
On the way she received a text from Claire.
Doctor says we are both my mother’s natural daughters. Paper at lab. Jeff says 2pm today. See you then.
Isobel wasn’t surprised but was glad to have this further confirmation to tell Julia.
The venue was again the National Gallery café. Isobel spotted Julia immediately despite the less colourful clothing and she brought two Americanos as before.
Once seated, she immediately said, “The DNA for Anne Banks is not a familial match to her sister. This morning we got confirmation from their family doctor that the girls were naturally conceived and delivered, so at least maternally siblings. Someone is impersonating Anne Banks. We also have probable fingerprints of hers on the piece of paper she wrote your number on and it is being compared with those of the suspected imposter. We hope to have results by two o’clock today when we’re meeting with the police again. My major concern now is getting the police to find Anne. Julia, do you know where she is? Can you confirm her whereabouts even if you cannot tell us where? Please, can you give me any information that would help us find out if she’s all right?” Isobel realised her voice had risen and she blushed as she finished. This case was really getting to her.
Julia pursed her lips and looked speculatively at Isobel. “I need to speak to our solicitor. If there is anything we can share it would be best that we meet the police. Give me the address for the meeting. If we can do anything we’ll be there.”
Isobel gave her the address. “Hopefully I’ll see you at two o’clock then.”
By two o’clock Julia had arrived with a young woman with long brown hair. She was tall, dressed in a neat black power suit and carried a briefcase that was leather and heavy. The general impression was of someone who knew her job and was well able to fight her corner. Julia introduced her as Yvonne Dempsey.
Peter was also there with Patricia, both off work for the Bank Holiday.
Claire was introduced as Anne’s sister and Simon and Yvonne clearly took particular notice of this.
Claire nervously sat beside Isobel who squeezed her hand.
Then, before anyone else could speak, Claire stood up and said, “I spoke to our doctor early this morning. He’s given me a letter confirming that he tended my mother during both of her pregnancies and that Anne and I are her natural daughters. Needless to say, he couldn’t understand why I wanted to know. He was worried that I was becoming paranoid, but I convinced him to give me confirmation.”
She handed a letter to Simon who glanced at it quickly and nodded. He offered it to Jeff who shook his head.
Claire had paled. “So now we definitely know that someone is pretending to be my sister.”
As before, it was what Jeff had to say that they were all waiting on.
“I’ve analysed the prints from the piece of paper Anne left with Brian,” he said. “There were three sets of prints on it. Two of them were identified as Brian’s and Isobel’s. The third set was not a match for the ones on the cup which Peter took from the café. So what I can tell you is this – the Anne Banks who wrote the note and the Anne Banks who drank the coffee are not the same woman. There are two women calling themselves Anne Banks. Taken with the doctor’s evidence that Anne and Claire were born naturally to the same mother, then the coffee cup Anne is not the Anne Banks who married Thomas and had Tommy, but an imposter.”
Claire let out a strangled sound and buried her face in her hands.
Jeff concluded, “Simon, I’m telling you that a crime is being committed.”
Simon nodded.
Yvonne cleared her throat and waited until she had everyone’s attention. “Given that someone is pretending to be Anne Banks – choosing to act in what I deem to be Anne’s best interests,” here she glanced at Julia and received a nod of assent, “I feel we can make you privy to certain facts.”
There was complete silence.
“Anne Banks got our number through Brian Poole and a woman’s shelter in Petersfield. As I understand it, that’s the number that was on the piece of paper you’ve been alluding to. She rang us on Monday 12th February at eleven thirty. She told us that she and her husband Thomas had had an altercation the night before and she was seeking help, support and guidance. She needed to pick her son up from school and, as she didn’t want to raise Thomas’s suspicions, it was the following day before Julia could meet her. She met Julia and told her what had happened.”
Yvonne nodded at Julia who took up the story.
“On the Sunday evening after Tommy had gone to bed, Thomas got annoyed with Anne because she wasn’t being affectionate enough to him. He punched her body a number of times, held her arms causing extensive bruising, shook her and in the end he put his hands around her throat and strangled her until she passed out.”
Claire put her hand over her mouth and began to cry. Isobel put an arm around her. No one spoke, not wanting to break the thread of the story.
Once Claire’s crying became quieter, Julia continued. “Anne woke up during the night lying on the bedroom floor. In the morning Thomas acted as if nothing had happened and, terrified, Anne went along with it. When she’d taken Tommy to school on Monday she drove to see Brian and he, through a contact he had, put her in touch with us.” Julia looked around. “In a situation of this seriousness often the woman will end up murdered if she doesn’t leave. When I told Anne this she agreed that this was a possibility and that she needed to leave. We followed our normal procedure in a case of this type. Firstly, we got the doctor.”
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