by John Marrs
“Some of the equipment your money paid for saved my daughter’s life,” added Fiona.
Sofia edged closer towards the screen. This was going even better than she hoped. “Oh really? Tell me more, Fiona, darling.”
“Nine years ago, Kitty underwent brain surgery to remove a benign tumour using doctors that your money helped to train and in a hospital that you helped to build. So I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you from the both of us.”
“You are very welcome. When it comes to fundraising, people have thrown around figures like twenty-five or thirty million pounds, but they’re just numbers and who’s counting? I’m so pleased that your little girl is one of the hundreds to benefit from my hard work.”
Sofia became aware of the clock reaching the one-minute mark.
“Some of the other Passengers are parents,” continued Fiona. “When you obviously care so much about children’s charities, do you mind if I ask why you chose not to start a family?”
Sofia dropped her head, then raised it, tilting it at a slight angle. She hadn’t forgotten how the same manoeuvre had given Princess Diana’s words extra depth during her revelatory BBC interview decades earlier. Sofia altered her tone so that it was softer, almost regretful. “For so many years I put my career and my body of work ahead of having a family of my own. And I’ll be honest with you, Fiona, it has been one of my biggest regrets.”
“I haven’t asked you about your husband. How long have you been married?”
Sofia curled her toes tightly. “My darling Patrick and I have been married for almost forty years now.”
“And he’s your fifth husband, if I remember correctly?”
“Yes.” Her reply was curt before she corrected herself. “My twenties and thirties were a busy time.” She chuckled. “But you know what they say, fifth time’s a charm. Well, something like that. But like I said to you earlier, I have been very blessed with a long, happy life. I can only hope your little girl goes on to live as many joys as I have, along with all the other children and their families I have supported over the years.”
“I know we don’t have much time left, so I should conclude by asking why my fellow jurors and the public should support you.”
“I’d never be as bold as to say people should vote for me, but of course I would like them to. If I am permitted to live, then I will not take one second of it for granted, and I’ll continue to put the people’s needs above my own. A priest I knew once told me, ‘A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle.’ That’s how I’ve lived my life.”
The countdown clock reached zero, and Sofia relaxed back into her seat, stroking Oscar and imagining the audience’s standing ovation. The next voice to speak she recognised as the Hacker’s.
“Thank you, Sofia,” he began. “No one can argue that you have certainly led an interesting life.”
“The fans have put me where I am, and I am here to serve them,” she replied.
“Do you mind if I ask you another question, on their behalf?” Sofia nodded, welcoming more time in the spotlight. “Was there ever a point when you considered starting a family?”
“Of course, much in the same way as every woman does.”
Suddenly, instinct told Sofia that the Hacker wasn’t playing all his cards at once. She needed to give him something—a diversion—and quickly. “If you really want to know the truth, I didn’t start a family of my own because I wasn’t able to have children.”
She gave a stage pause, removed a tissue from her bag, and dabbed at her non-existent tears. She knew from the silence that she was still holding everyone’s attention.
“By the time I met Patrick, I was ready for a family, but alas my body wasn’t. I was diagnosed with uterine fibroids that were causing me a great deal of pain. And as a result, I needed a hysterectomy. As you can imagine, it was devastating. I celebrated my fortieth birthday in a hospital room crying my heart out for something I’d only recently realised I wanted. Back then, you couldn’t just bank eggs like girls do now, and surrogacy wasn’t the thing it is today, so I lost my only chance at motherhood. And I suppose that’s why I raise so much money for children’s charities. I think of all the little ones I have helped as my own extended family.”
“I am a little confused though.”
“About what?”
“Because I thought the decision not to have a family was your own? According to the medical records I have here in my possession, it wasn’t taken out of your hands at all; it was your own choice.”
Sofia held her breath. He knows, she thought. He knows everything. She pressed a hand to her throat as she waited for him to continue. After a crippling pause, Sofia was the first to break. “It was a complicated time.”
“It wasn’t really though, was it? You didn’t have a hysterectomy; you opted to be sterilised. Why ever would someone who claims to have wanted to start a family go to such extremes not to have one?”
Sofia glared at the camera. Her mask had slipped, and she had finished playing her part but the audience remained seated.
“If you’re not willing to share this with the fans you claim to serve, would you like me to do it for you?” His suggestion was met with stony silence. “I’ll take that as a yes. The reason why you chose to be sterilised was because—”
“I want to remove myself from this competition,” Sofia said suddenly. “Take me off the list. I want to let someone else live instead of me.”
It was the first time she heard the Hacker laugh. “You would really rather die than have the truth come out?”
“I don’t want to be a part of this any longer,” Sofia continued. “It’s sick, you threatening us all, raking up private things that have no business being spoken about in public.”
“So you only want them to know the real you if it’s on your terms?”
“My private life is my own business.”
“That barn door is wide open and the horse has long since bolted, Sofia. The truth is that you had yourself sterilised so that your husband couldn’t get you pregnant.”
Sofia’s silence was as good as admitting her guilt.
“And why didn’t you want to carry his child?”
She felt her throat tighten. She was unable to defend herself.
“Because your husband was, and still is, a notorious paedophile, isn’t he? And you have been complicit in his crimes by using your wealth and influence to cover up the fact he has molested dozens of children over the last four decades.”
Sofia shook her head furiously. “You don’t know what—”
“I have his victims’ names, dates, and how much you paid for their families’ silence. I even have photographs he took and sent to magazines and websites.”
Sofia’s arms were rigid as she steadied herself against the seat. Her mind raced with the speed of a whirlwind, desperately trying to think of a way she could escape the accusations with her reputation intact. But before she could defend herself, Sofia realised that no one would get the chance to hear her rebuttal. Her sound feed had been cut off. The show was over, along with her career.
CHAPTER 37
Libby let out a long breath she wasn’t aware she was holding, then turned to face a similarly stunned Matthew.
She looked towards Jude’s screen to gauge his reaction. He appeared as bewildered as everyone else.
“Well, I don’t think Sofia will be on the NSPCC’s Christmas card list for very much longer,” said Cadman.
“You’re making a joke about child abuse?” asked Libby.
Cadman glanced to Matthew before immediately backing down. “My apologies.”
After witnessing the exposure of Claire’s and Sofia’s secrets, it was rapidly becoming apparent that the Passengers had been carefully selected based on what they were hiding.
There was nothing in the world that Libby hated more than secr
ets. Alarm bells were beginning to sound in her head. Her brother Nicky had kept his suicidal feelings from his family the day he was released from hospital. And William had kept from her his fling with the office intern. What secrets might Jude be concealing from her?
“Is it possible the Hacker’s accusations aren’t true?” she directed towards Jack. “Or at least only part of the story?” He didn’t reciprocate her eye contact and stared at the screens instead. Libby continued regardless. “He’s using each of us to set the Passengers up. Once they’ve presented to us the best version of themselves, he goes in for the kill with an accusation. But how do we know what the whole truth is if he won’t allow them a rebuttal?”
“A rebuttal?” Jack let out a short, sharp snort. “You have failed to grasp the situation, Miss Dixon. We are long past playing by Queensberry rules or anything that one might consider honourable. The Hacker doesn’t recognise anything but his own agenda.”
“I’m not stupid; I can see that,” she replied. “What he’s doing is mirroring what goes on in your inquests. You never give us the full picture either, do you? We’re only told as much as you want us to know before we’re forced to decide who’s at fault, the victim or the car. And because so much of the evidence is ‘classified,’ it’s almost always the victim who’s damned. So what he’s doing isn’t really any different to what you do.”
“You’re misinformed and ignorant, Miss Dixon. All we can do is let the Passengers tell us why they should live, and hope for their sakes that they’re being honest. If they’re not, then God help them.”
Libby looked Jack directly in the eyes. The piercing glare she had once been afraid of no longer existed. He had lost his fight. “Why have you given up so easily?” she asked.
“Because there is nothing I can do that will make any difference for Miss Arden.”
“No, I don’t just mean Claire, I mean what’s happening in here. You don’t get to where you are in your career without fighting tooth and nail to get your own way. Why isn’t your phone glued to your ear anymore like it was when this began? Why aren’t you losing your temper with your office or demanding to speak to GCHQ again?”
“One of the many problems with you millennials is that you spend too much time thinking and reading too much into situations that don’t require your input. If I were you, I’d concentrate on what your friend Jude is hiding behind that vacant look of his.”
Libby didn’t rise to the bait. “The Hacker has something else on you, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t be so ridiculous.” Jack’s eyes briefly darted towards his own image on-screen. But his denial was not nearly as venomous as Libby would have expected. She turned her whole body towards him. Jack remained firm, as if he was concerned that, by moving, he might give something away.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” she continued. “He’s alluded to knowing something about you or the inquest process numerous times. And you don’t know what he knows, so you’re playing it safe by keeping a low profile. If he knows so much about the Passengers, then he knows a lot about you too.”
“You have a very fertile imagination, Miss Dixon.”
“You’re just biding your time and hoping to leave this room with as few battle scars as possible.”
Finally, Jack looked her, his silence speaking volumes. She turned her attention back towards the wall of screens. Sofia’s face was expressionless, as if the picture had frozen. Her arms were folded, and her eyes stared beyond the camera and out through the car’s windscreen.
“Do I need to ask how social media is reacting to the exposé of our ‘national treasure’?” asked the Hacker.
“Opinions are along the lines of what you might expect,” Cadman replied. “I think it’s safe to say that right now, she is the most hated woman on the planet.”
“With one hour left until the collision, shall we move along?” the Hacker suggested. “Let’s continue with one-half of the only married couple in our process.”
CHAPTER 38
SAM COLE
The sour taste of bile rose up into Sam’s throat and entered his mouth. It burned as he swallowed it back down. But he gave the camera no indication that he was literally scared sick.
Moments earlier, Sam suppressed his joy when Claire’s and then Sofia’s credibility fell apart before the world. But at the same time, he was all too aware that when his moment came as the focus of attention, it would likely happen to him too. He had just as many secrets of his own that could ruin his chance of survival.
Sam’s mind raced as he narrowed his options down to just two—tell the truth or lie. If he beat the Hacker to the punch and made his admission, perhaps the public and jurors might forgive him? You might as well cut out the middleman and hand yourself a death sentence, he told himself. He shook his head, swiftly ruling it out. None of them would understand the choices he’d made unless they had walked in his shoes.
If he lied by omission, he could use the ten minutes allocated to him to persuade viewers he was worthier of their support than his wife. Then when his time was up and the Hacker revealed Sam’s secret, he could still retain some support. There was still a chance the Hacker didn’t know what Sam was hiding. But he was sure social media would expose him if the Hacker didn’t. There were too many people who knew him from different walks of life for it not to reach the public domain.
Every so often, he glanced at Heidi’s screen to try to judge from her expression and body language how she was holding up. It was difficult to tell. They’d been a couple for twelve years and married for ten, but the longer she spent in the police force, it became increasingly difficult to penetrate her steely veneer. She had seen too much bad in the world and it had hardened her.
The Heidi of old would not have asked if he were willing to sacrifice his life for hers. Had she considered for a moment that he might be able to offer the children just as much as she could? He doubted it. Heidi wanted to keep on living, so why didn’t she think Sam would want the same thing?
Could you really try to steal votes from her to save your own skin? he asked himself. He glanced at Heidi again. When she informed him that her workmates had nicknamed her Elsa, he knew why without her needing to explain. Like now, for example. Her skin could have been covered with a layer of frost and she couldn’t have looked any cooler. It was her ability to detach that had made her value his life below her own.
As far as he could see, her only advantage over him was her relationship with their children. His long working weeks away in Halifax meant Beccy and James had forged a closer bond with their mum than with him. Sometimes, upon his return, it felt as if there was no room for him inside their tight little clique. But his hands were tied, and his time was not infinite. Whether she meant to or not, Heidi made him feel like a guest in his own family. And now more than ever, he resented her for it.
Just the sound of the Hacker’s voice again made his leg start to jig. “Muriel, would you like to begin?” the Hacker asked, and the time began its descent. He took another look at Muriel. She wouldn’t have been his first choice as a potential saviour, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Hello, Sam,” she began sympathetically, as if she were comforting a terminal patient. He refrained from reminding her that he wasn’t dead yet. “How are you?”
“I’m pretty angry, if I’m being honest,” he replied, and folded his arms as if to emphasise the point.
“Well, that’s understandable—”
“Wouldn’t you feel the same if it were you?” he interrupted. “Either I’m going to die, my wife is going to die, or both of us are going to die, and that’s unfair, isn’t it? I don’t want to live without her and she doesn’t want to live without me, and how are our kids supposed to carry on like normal when they’ve watched both their parents blown to bits in front of an audience of billions? They’re going to be scarred for life, aren’t they?”
By her ex
pression, Muriel wasn’t expecting Sam to sound quite so enraged or impassioned. It threw her from her planned line of questioning.
“Um, you have, er, two children, is that correct?” she asked.
“Yes, they’re nine and eight, and you couldn’t wish for a better pair of kids. James is the school under-tens rugby captain, and Beccy is a very talented singer. Thinking about them is the only thing getting me through this.” Sam held up his phone towards the camera to show the audience a carefully selected photograph that included him with a child under each arm, but no Heidi.
“They’re beautiful,” said Muriel. “As you are aware, the purpose of our conversation is to get to know you a little bit more. Can I ask how long you’ve been married?”
“Ten years next month.”
“Are you a man of faith?”
“I’m Church of England.”
“Do you talk to God often?”
“I don’t, I’m afraid. I work away from home a lot, so I don’t have much free time for anything. Well, I did believe in him until I found myself locked in this car and fighting for my life.”
“When we’re at our most vulnerable, having a faith can be just what we need to get us through.”
“I’ll be honest with you, I feel as if he’s abandoned me.”
“He is always by our side.”
“I don’t see him. He’s put me in competition against my wife, the one person I love the most in the world, aside from the kids. He must know that I’m never going to try and compete against her, so my fate is sealed. Besides, Heidi is always going to win more public support than I am, isn’t she? That’s just the way of the world. A mum will always be more valued than a dad.”
“Well, yes and no,” Muriel replied, somewhat confused as to what the correct answer might be. Sam saw her turn to her fellow jurors and arch her eyebrows as if she was asking for their help. “In this age of equality, there’s no reason why people won’t choose to support you, is there?”