Chasing Aquila

by James Hume

  He nodded. ‘Yeah, of course,’

  ‘If I marry, I’d probably have to leave the police. If I have children, I’d definitely have to leave the police. And I don’t want to leave my job.’

  He pursed his lips. ‘I can live with that.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Sure. I’ve worked with you now for over four months. I’ve come to admire you more than any woman I’ve ever known. I don’t want it to stop. I’ve fallen in love with you, and I’d happily live with you without a wedding ring or kids. I think the two of us could have a great life together. Satisfying jobs, with travel to exotic places, good friends and happy times. Why not give it a try? You’ve nothing to lose, and maybe lots to gain.’

  She smiled. ‘By doing what?’

  ‘Give it a test run in that loch-side cottage I mentioned. I could fly up to Glasgow on a Friday. We have the weekend away, and back home on Monday. At least we would then have some idea if it would work.’

  Sometimes she felt she’d like a companion – more than a companion – on her off-work time, particularly at weekends. Maybe she should give it a try. She found him easy-going and attractive, and as good a chance as she’d get, without joining the dating scene, heaven forbid. And it just might develop into something deeper. She smiled at him. ‘Okay, let’s try it. See if it works. When?’

  ‘Jesus. That’s fantastic.’ He checked his diary. ‘I’m clear any weekend next month.’

  ‘Okay. My cousin has a cottage on Loch Lomond. I’ll see if it’s available.’

  ‘That would be great.’ He smiled at her. ‘Kiss to seal it?’

  She nodded, leaned towards him, and kissed him full on the lips. Her body responded in a way she hadn’t felt for years. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, my darling.’

  ***

  Sandra sat with her Chief Inspector, Tom Hamilton, and senior prosecutor, Jim Hannah, and discussed the options on the trial of Cian Connolly, for the murder of Tommy Thomson. A final decision had to be made one way or the other.

  Hannah shook his head. ‘There’s no evidence of intent, Sandra. A murder charge on Connolly won’t succeed. The best we can go for is culpable homicide, and I think even that’s dodgy. Connolly will almost certainly plead self defence. And you’ll have to disclose Thomson had a gun. I don’t think any jury would convict on that evidence. But we could try to prove, once the gun fell in the river, Connolly went on and drowned Thomson. After all, we’re not the judge, and we’re not the jury.’

  She pursed her lips and thought. ‘Okay, let’s run with culpable homicide as you suggest, and let the jury decide.’

  ‘And the girl?’

  ‘Well, if he walks, she walks. And we then cart them off to Nuremberg.’

  ***

  Sandra stood with bated breath, and watched the Arrival doors at Renfrew Airport, desperate to catch her first glimpse of him. Then she saw him and gave him a wave. Tall, handsome, with a big smile, in blazer and flannels, open-necked shirt, and with a sports bag and coat. He came over to her. She looked up at him and smiled, ‘Hi. Welcome to Glasgow.’ They kissed.

  ‘Hi. Great to see you.’ He stepped back and admired her. ‘You look fantastic.’

  She laughed. ‘Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.’ She took his arm as they headed for the exit. ‘Good flight?’

  ‘Yeah, fine.’

  He threw his bag and coat in the boot, and she drove off west towards the Erskine Ferry. The cottage lay on the shore of Loch Lomond, just north of Luss village, near a hotel. They stopped in Balloch to get some provisions.

  As they drove north from Balloch, the loch opened up. Bill gasped, ‘Bloody hell, it’s beautiful here. What a view.’

  ‘Yeah, superb, isn’t it?’

  At Luss, she gave him the directions to read out, so they’d catch the access road on their right. The cottage was semi-detached, and her cousin had told her the neighbours would have the key, or if they were out, they’d leave it under a flower pot at the door. A car stood outside the cottage to the right. Sandra parked to the left, and they got out. She headed for the next door cottage, and Bill stretched. ‘What a place. And such clean, fresh air.’

  An elderly lady came to the door. ‘Hello. We’re Viv and Matt. Here’s the key. Just let us know if we can help.’

  Sandra smiled.’Will do. I’m Sandra. That’s Bill. Thanks for the key.’

  She opened up their cottage. A large lounge led through to a kitchen and dining area along the back, which in turn led out to a patio that overlooked the loch. Two bedrooms and a bathroom led off the lounge to the left. They stood in the lounge and embraced.

  ‘This do you for a couple of days?’ she asked, with a smile.

  ‘Perfect,’ he said, and looked around. ‘Just perfect.’

  The doorbell rang. Viv said, ‘I’m sorry to bother you, Sandra, but we’ve got a hospital appointment, and our car won’t start. Do either of you know about cars?’

  Bill came over. ‘I’ll have a look,’ he said, took off his blazer and hung it over the end of the sofa, rolled his shirt sleeves up, and then left with Viv to check their car.

  Sandra went over to the bedrooms to check which had the longest bed, then thought she’d better bring their bags in from the car. She headed for the door, but bumped the sofa. His blazer slipped off onto the floor. She bent down to pick it up, and froze.

  The two inside pockets showed. The one on the left as she looked down at it held his wallet, but in the one on the right, a thin plastic bag with a red sealing strip peeped out. She felt as though someone had punched her in the stomach. She glanced out the widow. He still had his head under the bonnet of the car. She opened her handbag, took out a pair of tweezers, and eased the plastic bag from the pocket. It was the same as the ones she’d seen in the dark factory when he’d knocked the box over. She had a flashback of him with his head torch, looking up and saying, ‘You go on. I’ll tidy this,’ and felt sick. She rushed over to the sink and boaked as she bile hit her throat.

  She came back to the sofa, where she’d dropped the tweezers and the plastic bag. It had once contained five tablets. It now contained three. She stood and stared at them. The surge of anger made her dizzy.

  He came in and walked over to the sink to wash his hands. ‘All done,’ he said, brightly. ‘Just a loose wire. They’re away now.’ He looked over at her and frowned. ‘Are you okay?’

  She tried to stay calm, but her voice wavered. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  He looked puzzled and glanced down. ‘Drying my hands.’

  ‘I meant with this.’ She held up the tweezers and the plastic bag. ‘It fell out your pocket.’

  He blushed and looked away.

  Her lips tightened with anger. ‘We’ve just spent weeks, removing them from circulation, and now I find you’ve got them. And used them. Have you already taken one today?’

  He stood and shuffled from one foot to the other. ‘I just wanted to make this weekend special for you.’

  ‘Special? Special? Oh, I feel special, all right. I’m so special my man doesn’t really fancy me unless he pops a pill. That’s really special’

  ‘But it’s not like that, Sandra. I want to make you feel good.’

  ‘No, you don’t. You want to make you feel good. You just see me as someone you can use to satisfy yourself.’

  ‘That’s absolutely not true. I love you.’

  ‘It is true. You just see this as some sort of coupling. Pop a pill. Get a stiffy for a couple of days. Brilliant. No problems there. But don’t I have a say in this? Where’s the emotional togetherness? Where’s the love you talk about? Nowhere. And that’s not good enough.’

  ‘You’ve got it all wrong, Sandra.’

  ‘Oh, no, I haven’t. And you know what makes it even worse? You stole these tablets. What went through your mind when you saw that box burst open? I’ll just snaffle a few packs of these, huh? I’ve a good mind to arrest you for theft.’

  ‘Come on,
Sandra. That’s just ridiculous.’

  ‘You don’t get it, do you? No woman wants to feel she’s just a tool for her man’s pleasure, unless she’s a whore. And I’m definitely not a whore. I want a relationship of equals. A soulmate and a lover. And you’re not it. Get out.’ She picked up his blazer from the floor and threw it over to him. ‘Get out!’

  ‘But we’ve got to work together.’

  ‘No, we don’t. I want you to resign your position on this job within four weeks, and recommend a replacement. Make up whatever excuse you like. But do it.’

  ‘But where will I go?’

  ‘I don’t give a bugger. But I want you off this job. If I ever speak to you again, it’ll only be because you’re required as a witness, and strictly professional. If you don’t get off the job, I’ll charge you with theft.’ She held up the tweezers and the plastic bag. ‘I’ve no doubt your prints are all over this, and that’s all I need. So, get out. I don’t want to see you again.’

  He shuffled out the door, with his head bowed.

  She picked up her handbag, dropped the tweezers and plastic bag in it, had a look around, and left the cottage. She locked the front door and dropped the key in the neighbour’s letter box. Then went to her car, and dropped his bag and coat on the ground She got into the car and started the engine.

  ‘You can’t just leave me here,’ he shouted. ‘How do I get back?’

  ‘That’s your problem,’ she shouted, and drove off.

  She ground her teeth. Such a fool. How had she fallen for it? Bastard. Now the door to her emotions had well and truly slammed shut again. Bastard.

  She pulled onto the main road and pushed her foot to the floor. The engine raced and the car swerved. A car going the other way sounded a horn. Shit. She shouldn’t drive like this, a danger to herself and other road users. She eased off and cruised into Luss village. She saw the sign for the car park, pulled into it, and parked in the far corner, near the pier.

  She sat and stared at the loch and the mountains, but saw nothing. She hit the steering wheel with the heel of her hand. ‘Shit!’ Then repeated it. ‘Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!’

  A woman walking her dog looked at her curiously as she passed.

  She couldn’t work out whether she was angry at him, or at herself for getting into this situation in the first place. Shit!

  Her brain had frozen. The whole scenario at the cottage kept rerunning in her head, mixed with the flashback of him in the factory. Her hands gripped the steering wheel. She leaned forward and rested her head on them.

  She didn’t know how long she’d stayed like that, when she heard a tap on her window. She lifted her head and looked round. The woman with the dog she’d seen earlier mouthed, ‘Are you okay?’

  Sandra could read her lips, but couldn’t hear her. She looked concerned. Sandra wound down the window.

  ‘Are you okay?’ the woman asked.

  Sandra nodded. She tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

  ‘Let me make you a cup of tea, my dear. My cottage is just here. It’ll help.’

  Sandra looked at the woman – in her fifties, maybe, grey hair, glasses, obviously concerned – and nodded.

  She wound the window up, grabbed her handbag and locked the car. She let the woman guide her into the house.

  ‘That’s the loo there, if you need it.’

  Sandra suddenly felt the need to pee and dashed into the loo. As she washed her hands afterwards, she splashed cold water on her face to try to get her brain to work again. She made her way out into the hall and heard the woman shout, ‘In here,’ and followed the voice into a comfortable sitting room.

  ‘Come and sit here, my dear,’ the woman said, and indicated a sofa

  Sandra sat down.

  ‘I’ve made some tea. How would you like it? Milk? Sugar?

  Sandra shook her head. She still couldn’t get her words out.

  The woman sat down beside her, put a hand on her arm, and smiled. ‘My name’s Lizzie Steele. I’m the local doctor here. Everyone calls me Doctor Liz. Now, I don’t know who you are – I don’t want to know who you are – but I do want to help you, my dear. Will you let me help you, please?’

  Sandra felt tears well up in her eyes. She hadn’t wept for ten years. And she still couldn’t speak. She just nodded.

  ‘Now, take a drink of tea.’

  She drank from the cup. God, it tasted good. She took another sip.

  ‘Now, is the problem with a man?’

  Sandra nodded.

  ‘Did he attack you?’

  Sandra looked at her in surprise, and shook her head. ‘No.’ The word came out a croak.

  ‘That’s good. Has he broken your trust, then?’

  Sandra thought that’s exactly what he’d done. She nodded.

  Lizzie paused. ‘Ah. Too bad. Is there anything he could do to rebuild that trust?’

  Sandra glanced at her. God, this woman asked all the right questions, and she wanted to answer, but she still couldn’t speak. She shook her head.

  The woman patted Sandra’s arm. ‘Mmm. Trust is the main building block – the foundation – of relationships, my dear. Without it, there’s nothing. And if it’s broken beyond repair, you may just have to accept it and move on, even though you may not want to.’

  God, thought Sandra, was her trust broken beyond repair? She saw his face in her mind – heard his words, ‘I wanted to make it special for you.’ But he’d stolen these pills. Her trust had shattered, and he could do nothing to rebuild it. She’d agreed to the holiday too early. She hadn’t been ready. This woman was right. It was now over. She had to move on.

  She began to calm down, and took another drink. She smiled at the woman and found her voice. ‘Thank you. I needed that.’ The tears welled up in her eyes again. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Oh, you’re welcome, my dear. Relationships are tough right now. The war’s caused untold damage to people’s lives. Sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever get over it. But please remember, number one, you need to look after yourself. If you’re not content within yourself, it’s very difficult to love and live with someone else. And I can tell you from experience, it’s more difficult to rebuild trust than to just walk away, even though that’s hard. So, look after yourself, my dear. There are probably others that need you more than the man who broke your trust. Focus on them, and you’ll come through it okay.’

  Sandra now felt calm and clear-headed. Her analytical brain worked again. This woman had taken her gently though the trauma and brought her out the other side safe and well.

  ‘Thank you so much, Doctor Liz.’ She gathered her handbag. ‘I’m ready to drive again.’

  The doctor smiled at her. ‘That’s good. And if you ever want to talk to me again, just give me a call.’ She gave Sandra a card from her mantelpiece. ‘Best of luck, my dear.’

  Sandra left and got into her car. She gave a big sigh. That had been tough, but how lucky had she been to meet Doctor Liz. Such a wise and truly remarkable woman.

  ***

  A week later, she got a letter from him. A copy of an internal note circulated within the Home Office, with a handwritten note attached.

  ‘Sandra,

  Planned to tell you this at Loch L, but other things got in the way.

  Sorry about that. You’ll never know how much. Will never forget you.

  Best wishes, Bill.’

  The Home Office note read,

  ‘Internal Memo No 46/019/3218

  The Home Secretary is pleased to announce that William James Franklin, Deputy Head, Investigations, London, will transfer to the Foreign Office on 1st July to join our Embassy in Washington DC, USA, as Commercial Attache.

  We wish Bill every success in his new position, and thank him for his contribution to our continued success over the last eight years

  Bill will be succeeded by Charles Mungall, currently . . . ‘

  She didn’t read any more, and threw it in the bin. He must have known about this for weeks.
It couldn’t just happen over a couple of days. Yet he hadn’t mentioned it. Just another black mark against a weak, stupid man. Thank Christ, she’d avoided that one.

  ***

  Jane and Andreas stood arm in arm on the balcony of their modern four-bedroom apartment just north of he city centre, and admired the view over Lake Geneva, with the snow-capped mountains still just visible in the distance. She snuggled into him.

  ‘Happy?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, more than that. Delirious.’

  She loved Geneva. The fabulous Old Town, the iconic Jet d’Eau fountain. So clean. So organised. After Glasgow, Nuremberg, Dresden and Prague, Geneva seemed in a different world. All these other cities had problems caused by the war, but Geneva had sailed through it all untouched. Neutral Switzerland had remained pristine while the countries around it had crumbled. Now she’d seen this place, she didn’t want to live anywhere else. And, of course, at the United Nations, she now played a small part in making the world a safer place.

  The wedding had gone off like a dream that morning in the Mayor’s parlour. She had her mother and the boys, Andreas had his parents and brother from Basel. All of them had enjoyed a superb wedding breakfast at a top restaurant, then back to the apartment for nibbles and drinks. Now, all the visitors had gone. The boys were asleep. Her mother had gone to bed. Just the two of them now, savouring a perfect day. The phone rang.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ she said, and went back indoors. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Jane. It’s Doctor Koehl here. Thought I’d just catch you before I went home. Your test results are positive. Congratulations.’

  She put her hand to her mouth, and tears welled in her eyes. ‘Oh, my God. That’s wonderful. Thank you so much, Doctor.’

  ‘Oh, you’re welcome, Jane. I should call you Mrs Schaeffer now, huh?’

  ‘That’s right. You’ve made it a perfect end to a perfect day.’

  ‘Well, I’ll see you soon. Take care.’

  She walked back out onto the balcony, and put her arms up around Andreas’s neck. ‘That was Doctor Koehl. Congratulations, you’re going to be a dad.’

  He stared at her, and laughed and cried at the same time. ‘Oh, Christ. That’s fantastic. You need to sit down and rest.’