Fallout (The Nick Sullivan Thrillers Book 1)

by Karla Forbes

  Ed began to grin. “I’d like to have seen that.”

  Nick glared at him, and he quickly wiped the smile from his face and returned to the problem. “Why didn’t you come to me earlier?”

  Nick shrugged evasively. “It’s been a shock. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  Ed looked at him with disbelief. “But we’ve been friends for years, Nick. Why didn’t you ask for my help before now?”

  Nick averted his gaze. “I told you, I was confused.”

  “Nick!” Ed said in exasperation. “When things go wrong and everyone else is running around in circles, you’re the one being logical and solving problems with that computer mentality of yours. So stop coming out with this bollocks.”

  Nick gave Ed a quick glance before looking away again. “OK, I was embarrassed.”

  “Embarrassed?” Ed snorted incredulously. He began to laugh but then stopped abruptly as he realised that Nick was being serious. “You’re the most self-assured, confident, all-round clever bastard I’ve ever met. You don’t know the meaning of the word ‘embarrassed’”.

  Nick summoned up a weak smile. “You’re a policeman and I’ve been accused of murder. Wouldn’t you find that embarrassing?”

  “Well, no,” Ed argued. “Not if I didn’t do it.” He looked at Nick curiously, then leaned back, nodding confidently to himself as he worked it out in his mind. “All the time we’ve known each other, you’ve been the successful one and I’ve been a loser. It must be hard for you to come here asking for help.”

  “Even the bravest cannot fight beyond his strength.”

  “Aristotle?”

  “No, Homer.”

  Ed’s jaw fell open. “Homer Simpson?”

  “Of course not,” Nick said wondering why it wasn’t obvious. “Homer the Ancient Greek. Anyway, you’re not a loser.”

  Ed jabbed the air with a chewed fingernail. “Compared to you I am. We started out at the same university, but it was you who went on to get the job, the boat and the Aston Martin. I’m struggling to pay the mortgage on a sergeant’s pay and my wife’s buggered off and left me.”

  “Unlike my blissfully happy marriage, you mean?” Nick threw back at him.

  Ed’s expression was jaded. “Yeah, well… the more you’ve got, the more you lose when it all goes belly-up.”

  “I didn’t think our friendship was based in which of us was the most successful,” Nick said poignantly.

  “It isn’t,” Ed assured him, “but the dynamics of that friendship have always been the same until now.”

  “Ed the amateur psychologist,” Nick said with a half-hearted smile.

  Ed sat back and folded his arms across his paunch. “But I’m right, aren’t I?”

  Nick didn’t answer. “So are you going to help or not?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “Of course,” Ed said with conviction. “You should have come earlier, but it’s not too late. We’ve got to do this properly.” He ground his palms into his eyes as he struggled to think. “Listen, mate, you’ve got to get yourself a good solicitor. If they arrest you they can hold you for questioning. They’ll have you admitting to half the crimes in the country before you know what’s hit you.”

  “I think it’s gone beyond that already.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Nick lowered his eyes. “I was on my way home from the shops when I saw two police cars turn up for me. I…um…”

  “You what?”

  “I ran.”

  Ed was horrified. “You what? Are you mad? Have you any idea what the prosecution will make of that? You might as well take a big advert out in the national press: My name is Nick Sullivan, and I’m as guilty as hell.”

  “I was faced with a situation and I dealt with it.” Nick snapped. “What choice did I have? Put my faith in the British justice system? I don’t think so, somehow. You know, more than anyone, that the police are more bothered about an impressive clear-up rate than actually getting to the truth.”

  “That’s not fair,” Ed said, defensively.

  “You would say that. You’re a policeman. But you know it’s true.”

  “We’ll work something out,” Ed stated confidently. “When did the police turn up?”

  “A couple of hours ago.”

  Ed thought fast. “In that case, there’s no real harm done. You weren’t under arrest when you ran. You haven’t been charged with anything, and until you have, you’re free to come and go as you please. There’s still time to go home and give yourself up. You can make up some story about where you’ve been and—”

  “Give myself up? You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said. What chance do I stand of clearing my name if I’m locked up? These things can take bloody ages to come to court.”

  “What exactly are you saying, Nick?”

  “I’m saying that I’m going to look for these men myself. And I can’t do that if I’m banged up.”

  Ed became very still. “In that case, why are you here?”

  “You’re a policeman. I thought you might be able to help.”

  “It’s precisely because I’m a policeman that I can’t.”

  Nick threw up his hands in a gesture of despair. “I know that. I didn’t mean that you should help me officially.”

  “What then?”

  “You’ll have access to information that isn’t available to ordinary members of the public…”

  Ed’s expression darkened. “Stop this, Nick! Stop this right now! I shouldn’t even be listening to you. I should be getting on the phone and telling them you’re here.”

  Nick hung his head in his hands. “Yes, you’re right, I know I shouldn’t ask you, but I’m desperate.”

  “Sorry. I can’t help.”

  Nick fixed him with a penetrating look. “You can, Ed. You owe me this.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean.”

  Ed sat back with a sneer of understanding. “Oh I see. Blackmail, is it?”

  “Hey, no way, Ed,” Nick said, visibly shocked. “How long have we been friends? You know I’d never tell anyone. All I’m saying is that I was there for you when you needed help, and now I’m asking for that favour to be returned.”

  Ed hesitated.

  “Please, Ed. I’ll beg if I have to. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that could link you to me or jeopardise your job in any way. I just need to know that if I want some help I can call you.”

  “Is that all…nothing else?”

  “That’s all.”

  Ed stood up abruptly, scraping the chair. “What’s the point? You don’t stand a chance. They’ll have you in custody so fast that your feet won’t touch the ground.” He held up his hand, counting off the points in turn. “One, where will you stay tonight? A hotel? Think again. The minute you try to get cash out of the machine or pay by credit card, they’ll be on to you. Two, by now, every policeman in the county will be on the lookout for your car. What are you going to do? Use the bus? You won’t get very far like that, even if you could use your credit card to pay for the ticket. Three, you can’t use your phone. They might have your mobile barred, they might not; it depends on whether they want to slow you down or trace your whereabouts the minute you make a call. Four, you can’t even feed yourself. How much cash have you got in your wallet? Not a lot, probably. But even if you did have enough to make one or two trips to the shops, you’d be picked up several times on CCTV. Face it, Nick, you’ll be in custody before the week is out. You’d do far better to give yourself up now, before you make things worse than they are already.”

  “The sinews of war are infinite money,” Nick said reflectively.

  “Which Homer was that?” Ed asked, confused.

  “Neither. It was Cicero.”

  “Nick, will you stop hiding your fear behind stupid quotes!” Ed snapped. “Just listen to what I’m saying. It’s the best advice you’ll ever receive.”

  “I said, will you help me?” Nick repeated stubb
ornly.

  “Don’t ask this of me.”

  “I will. I don’t have any choice.”

  “I want your absolute promise that you won’t expect me to do anything that could link you to me.”

  “You have it.”

  Ed wiped a hand nervously along his trousers. “My job’s all I’ve got left, Nick. If you threaten it in any way, I’ll have your bollocks. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I know. Will you help me?”

  “Yes! I’ll help you, but it’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard. Only a guilty man runs.” He slammed the table with his hand in frustration.

  “Is that what you think?” Nick asked quietly.

  “No, but it’s what the jury will think.”

  Nick stood to leave. “Thanks, Ed. Don’t worry. I won’t come back here. If I need you, I’ll call you.” He paused by the door. “Incidentally, you’ve got it all wrong. I never thought I was better than you. Until now, I’ve spent my working life sitting in an air-conditioned office moving money around and making fortunes for a few lucky shareholders. You, on the other hand, are doing a worthwhile job that might not pay as much but at least has some point to it. A lot of people might question your definition of a loser.”

  Ed waved Nick away. “Get out of here,” he said gruffly. Nick quietly let himself out, closing the front door behind him.

  ***

  Nick was halfway down the path when a voice, heavy with accusation, called after him.

  “I heard everything, Nick,” Annelies said, dragging him quickly away from where they could be seen from the window.

  “Typical Annie,” Nick told her with a tired smile. “Even when you were a kid, you were always hanging around getting under our feet.”

  She returned his smile with a bleak expression. “I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that you didn’t kill Tim.”

  He recoiled as though stung. “I can do that, but should I have to? How long have you known me?”

  “Long enough to know that success is everything to you.”

  “Meaning?”

  “That you would view losing your wife to another man as a personal failure.”

  “I don’t deal with failure by killing people,” he stated, bluntly.

  “Then do as I say, look me in the eye and tell me that you’re innocent.”

  He held her by the shoulders and did as she had asked. “I didn’t kill Tim,” he said. “I’m innocent, but I’m shocked that you can doubt me.”

  “I don’t want to doubt you, but I have to know.”

  “Why?” he asked, bitterly.

  “Because I want to help you – but only if I know that you’re innocent.”

  He let his arms drop to his sides. “No, Annie, stay out of it. I appreciate the offer, but this is exactly why I didn’t want you to know what was going on. Just by talking to me now, and not turning me in, you could probably be accused of obstructing the police in their duties.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” she said, “but how far do you think you can get on your own? You heard Ed; you need transport, food and a roof over your head. How are you going to manage any of that if you can’t access your money?”

  “There are hostels,” he said defiantly. “Christian-run hostels that take you in and don’t ask any questions. I can find work, cash in hand, and buy an old car. OK, so I might not be able to tax or insure it, but I’m being accused of murder, the prospect of being done for running a car without the proper paperwork isn’t going to keep me awake at night.”

  “And how long is that all going to take?” she asked scathingly. “While you’re taking care of all that, do you imagine the murderers will be hanging around waiting to get caught? Get real, Nick. You need help. Otherwise you might as well do what Ed says: turn yourself in, get a good solicitor and hope that the jury are either particularly anti-establishment or particularly stupid.”

  He laughed in spite of himself. “You’ve just shaken what little confidence I had.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it,” she said. “Now take this.” She slipped her back door key off her key ring and dropped it in his hand. “Will you be able to reach my house without being picked up by the police?”

  Nick tried to look more confident that he felt. “It should be OK,” he said. “At this stage, they don’t even know that I’ve made a run for it. As far as they’re concerned, I could still be on my way home.”

  “OK. It’s better not to waste any more time. Go now, put your car in my garage and don’t open the door to anyone except me. I’ll be along as soon as I can get away from here without Ed suspecting anything. If he knows I’m helping you, he’ll feel he has no choice but to turn you in. He can be very protective.”

  Nick decided that Ed’s protective instincts were definitely misplaced. He realised with a start that all the while he had been viewing his friend’s sister as a twelve-year-old, she had been growing up.

  “Stop gawping at me and go,” she said, impatiently. “And fix yourself something to eat, will you? The haggard look doesn’t suit you.”

  He started down the path but she called after him once again. “I might still turn you loose to fend for yourself if I don’t like the answer to a question I’ll be asking.”

  He raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “I’ll be wanting to know what, exactly, Ed has done that made him think you were blackmailing him.”

  ***

  Nick had been driving for no more than five minutes when his mobile rang. Nick read Ed’s name on the display, and felt a rush of guilt wondering if he had found out about his sister’s involvement.

  “Hi Ed,” he said, sounding more nonchalant than he felt.

  Ed’s voice was strained. “Why have you got your mobile turned on?” he snapped. “I warned you they might start monitoring it as soon as they realise you’ve done a runner.”

  Nick refrained from pointing out Ed’s twisted logic in calling him if he hadn’t expected a reply.

  “What is it?” he asked warily, expecting to hear a tirade on Annelies’s behalf.

  “After you left, I called a mate at Canterbury nick to find out why the police turned up in force at your place this afternoon.”

  Nick’s relief that the call wasn’t about Annelies was tempered by an awareness that Ed didn’t sound like a man about to dispense good news.

  “And?” he asked, with a sinking heart.

  “You were right,” Ed conceded. “They’ve got a warrant for your arrest.”

  “But I didn’t do it,” Nick said in dismay.

  “They think you did, mate. I couldn’t find out what evidence they’ve got against you; only that you’re right there in the frame and they’re not looking for anyone else.”

  Nick fell silent as he digested this new information.

  “Did you hear?” Ed prompted.

  Nick came to attention. “Yes, I’m still here. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “Don’t try and leave the country,” Ed continued. “They’ll be on to you before you’ve even finished assuring the girl at the check-in desk that you packed your own bags.”

  “I wasn’t intending going anywhere,” Nick told him, “and anyway, I haven’t got my passport with me.”

  “Where are you now?” Ed asked abruptly.

  “Oh, just pursuing an idea,” Nick said with deliberate vagueness.

  “Yeah, well, pursue it with your fucking mobile switched off,” Ed growled. Nick immediately complied.

  Annelies’s house was a small semi on the outskirts of Brighton. It was clean, uncluttered and functional, but she had added feminine touches with freshly-cut flowers and pastel-coloured throws. Nick let himself in the door, tossed the keys on the hall table and looked around, wondering why he felt like an intruder. It wasn’t the house that had changed, he concluded, it was him.

  He cooked himself an omelette, which he had little appetite for but surprised himself by enjoying, and slowly he began to unwind. He washed the omelette down
with several mugs of coffee, and for the first time in three days began to feel alive again. The mind-numbing shock of what had happened was wearing off, and in its place was anger. He welcomed it. He knew it would sustain him during the difficult days that would inevitably follow.

  It was nearly two hours before Annelies finally walked in through the front door carrying several bags of supplies. She dropped them onto the sofa next to Nick and began sorting through them.

  “I assume you hadn’t been driving around with a packed suitcase in your car, so I’ve bought you a few clothes,” she said. She took them out of the various bags, one by one. “A week’s supply of socks and boxers, a few T-shirts and hooded fleeces, jeans, shaving stuff, a toothbrush and some pyjama bottoms.”

  “I don’t wear pyjamas,” he protested.

  “You can do what you like in your own home,” she told him, “but you’re not going to wander around my house stark naked.”

  He trawled through the haul with growing embarrassment at the trouble he was putting her to. “I’m not sure when I’ll be able to pay you back,” he said lamely.

  “No rush,” she assured him. “I probably spent less on the whole lot than you would normally spend on a single silk tie. It’s chainstore cheap, not city chic.”

  She sat on the chair opposite him, chewing on a fingernail as she scrutinised him from every angle. “I’ve been wondering how we can change your appearance. If you were blond we could dye your hair dark brown, but it doesn’t really work the other way around. You’d end up looking like a negative.”

  He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “Yeah, well, I don’t think I could cope with touching up my roots.”

  She dived into another bag. “Which is why I bought these.” She handed him a baseball cap and a pair of spectacles. “Reading glasses. They’re the lowest strength I could find, but if they’re still uncomfortable, you can always take the lenses out. People won’t notice. They’ll just see the glasses.”

  He took them from her, eyeing them dubiously. “I’m not sure that it works like that in real life. Super-Fugitive Nick Sullivan becomes Clark Kent the moment he slips the glasses on.”

  “Not on their own,” she agreed, “but every bit helps. Don’t shave as thoroughly. A beard would be too obvious, but a bit of dark stubble changes you more subtly. When you go out, either wear the baseball cap or pull the hood up on the fleeces. Oh, and ditch the Rolex.” She reached into the shopping bag again and pulled out a cheap digital plastic watch, laughing at his look of dismay. “Sorry, but you have to be invisible. You’re not going to manage that wearing a watch that cost more than the price of my car.”