by Linda Coles
“The dark man, he was asking this morning. About the woman and breakfast. But she had long red hair, not like this,” she said, pointing to photo again.
“What did the dark man look like, was he English?”
“Yes. Not friendly. He came this morning asking. He had a police card with him.”
“He was an English policeman?”
“Yes, I think so.”
Another cop was looking for her too, yet they didn’t know about it. Odd, why not?
“Is she in trouble?” the woman asked nervously.
“Not from us, no. But if we don’t find her soon, she may be. Why do you ask?”
“She was here earlier but looking for work, not eating breakfast.”
“Really? And?”
“She starts here tomorrow morning.”
Chapter Seventy-Two
Dominic had moved out of the square early afternoon and wandered the narrow streets, watching for a woman with long red hair. There couldn’t be many of them and if she was still in town, he’d follow her, hopefully back to her accommodation so he could see where she was staying. He hoped she was staying with the woman he actually needed.
The narrow streets filled with small fashionable boutiques gave him cover, and their windows allowed him to see inside a shop and scan behind him if the light was just right for the reflection. Since both women needed to eat, and dinner time was fast approaching, there could be another chance for a hit on the credit card. He’d alerted his colleague back home and asked them to inform him of the details as soon as they came through, no matter what time of day or night they happened. Waiting was boring work, and hard on his feet, and his stomach churned acid from too many cups of coffee, which in turn made him edgy.
Finally, his luck changed, and he spotted a red-headed woman that fitted the description. She looked about thirty years old, slim, tanned and relaxed in her shorts and T-shirt, casually browsing in shop windows with not a care in the world. Her auburn hair gleamed in the sunshine. He waited until she’d passed by and carried on his surveillance from a few feet back, slipping into doorways as she slowed up ahead or entered a shop herself. The last thing he wanted was for her to notice him, though it appeared she was intent on making a purchase. He could see her sifting through a rail of clothes in a store. Window reflections were a useful tool and the light in the narrow alleyway was perfect for him to watch in the opposite direction. Once she was satisfied with what she’d chosen, she made the purchase and then, on leaving the shop, she removed the item from the shopkeeper’s bag and stuffed it inside her own. Dominic grinned to himself. It was classic behaviour of someone that was hiding their purchase and he bet she’d used the stolen credit card. When the woman had sauntered on, he dashed across and grabbed the credit-card receipt from the hands of a startled cashier. He looked for the last four digits he’d noted from the last transaction – they were the same. Dominic dashed back out without any explanation, leaving the cashier calling after him. He was tailing the right woman. Now all he had to do was see where she returned to and approach her there. He hoped it would lead him to the woman he desperately sought – nothing else mattered to him now. He’d got himself into this mess and she was his ticket out of it.
The redhead slipped inside another shop and he waited patiently for her to complete her purchase and transfer it from one bag to her own, as before. He wondered how much more she was planning on spending; he needed her to head back, and the sooner the better. He picked up his pace a little so he didn’t lose her and was hopeful that she might be done this time. Dominic, only a couple of metres behind her and conscious she’d slowed her pace, was about to dart into a nearby doorway when she showed her hand. Flipping round quickly, she locked eyes with him immediately.
His game was up.
But she didn’t run. Instead, the redhead moved towards him, never dropping her eyes, and boldly asked, “Why are you following me?”
“I wasn’t,” he lied. It sounded lame because it was.
“Cut the crap. Now, before I knee you in the nuts and scream, why are you following me?”
Dominic didn’t doubt she would use her knee if he didn’t say something plausible. “Okay, you win. But not here.” He scanned the area and noticed a bench off to the right. “Over there. We can talk out in public.”
She raised an eyebrow at him and said, “But it’s not safe in private, eh?”
It wasn’t worth getting into. When they were sitting down, green eyes turned his way again and they were filled with energy, like a fox before it ran for its life. Was Dominic the hound then?
“The credit card you’ve been using. Where did you get it?” He flashed his warrant card briefly, long enough for her to see he was with the police.
“So that’s what this is about? Since when did they start sending dodgy surveillance out for credit-card fraud?”
“They don’t. Now please, answer the question.”
“What’s it worth, for me?”
“Nothing, but I won’t report the usage either.”
She stood to leave. “No can do.”
He couldn’t afford for her to go. He had to know more.
“Okay, fine. What do you want?”
“Money. Then I’ll tell.” Defiant.
“Really? This isn’t the movies, you know,” he said, exasperated. “How much?”
“What can you lay your hands on?”
Dominic had about £2,000 in his current account, but he’d be damned if she was going to get it all. But what was she worth to him, in the long run?
“I can get you the equivalent of £200 but obviously in euros. We’re in France after all. Take it or leave it, but I want the full story, yes?”
“That’s not enough.”
“Well, until I know if the answer is what I need, there’s no more. You could have found that card on the street for all I know.”
Kirsty nodded her agreement and sat back down. “I have the right answer. Make it £800.”
“What?” He had no choice. “Okay, okay, £800.”
“Before I tell you, I want half as a down payment, though you may as well get it all while you’re there. I’ll wait here.” This woman was stubborn and used to dealing with thugs, Dominic thought. Not many women her age would be giving him the same attitude and ball-threatening behaviour she was. He wondered why: what was her history to make her so? He glanced around for the nearest ATM; it was visible from where they sat.
“I’ll be a moment,” he said, pointing to it. “If you want your money, you’ll wait here, understood?”
Nodding her acceptance, Kirsty wondered how much to tell the man, how much information on her new friend was £800’s worth. In her gut, she knew it was a low trick, but it was easy money and she wasn’t about to turn that away. Anyway, she’d only known Tabby for all of five minutes so what was the harm? By the time he returned, she’d finished caring.
Out came the story of what she knew, along with the names on the bracelet she’d found in Tabby’s bag. It had explained a few things to Kirsty. Like why her friend hadn’t used the credit card herself.
She wasn’t really Tabby. She was Susan or Melanie Marchment.
Kirsty left nothing out – how they’d come to meet, her suspicions that Tabby was really someone else, everything. It was a low trick and Dominic handed over her reward. Wanting her out of the way, he drove her to collect her things then dropped her at Gare d’Albi-Ville, the train station at Albi, destination of her choice. He didn’t want her to spoil his plan.
For Kirsty, it was back to doing what she did best: looking out for herself.
Chapter Seventy-Three
Susan had taken herself for a well-deserved ice cream and a walk down by the river to celebrate. Kirsty hadn’t wanted to come. She’d said she wanted to do some window shopping, which Susan wasn’t interested in herself, not having the budget – hence why she was only having an ice cream is a treat. A couple of new blouses would have been nice, especially since she started
work the following morning, but she was chuffed that she’d got a job waitressing. It didn’t pay much but at least it paid something, and she’d find somewhere else to stay as soon as she could gather enough rent money. The backpackers’ place wasn’t suitable for longer-term living.
Once back at their room, she was surprised to find that Kirsty’s belongings had all gone and so it appeared had she. No note. Kirsty the free spirit had simply left. She checked with the owner, the bent-over-double older lady, who said that Kirsty had paid her bill, paid for Susan’s couple of nights and left. So it appeared Susan was all alone once again, and she’d just begun to enjoy the woman’s company. Not that they talked about their past lives much; she knew nothing of Kirsty herself. Still, Susan couldn’t help but feel a little dejected. She was only just getting used to being out in the big, wide world on her own and wasn’t entirely sure that she liked it. Not for the first time, she wondered about home and, in particular, her tiny garden room. She loved spending time in there when the sun was out. It reminded her of playing ‘house’ with her younger sister – before the accident.
“I miss you, Melanie,” she said to the empty room. “Every damn day.” Dipping her head, she stood in the empty room and held back the tears that were fighting to flow.
Maybe being on her own again would force her to think of what she should do next. Travelling around France illegally, using someone else’s ID, was not the bright thing to do going forward. How was she ever going to get official papers, a proper job even? And what would happen if she got sick, what would she do then? All these things had been playing on her mind as time wore on. They had not been at the forefront of her mind, not things she’d contemplated when she’d first left the train with another woman’s life in her hands.
But something had prompted her to do so. Something had triggered her reaction. At the time of an event or crisis, no one thought about consequences, you just did what felt right, or what somebody else encouraged you to do, and figured it out from there. Her actions on leaving the train were all her own. She reached into her purse and took out the bracelet, turning it to read the inscription she knew was engraved there.
“What next, Susan Smith? Or are you Tabby Child? Who do you want to be? What would Melanie want you to be?” she asked, looking at her reflection in the mirror, waiting for an answer that never came.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chrissy, Julie and Alan sat in a bar on the edge of the cathedral square, feeling like the Three Amigos. They looked an odd trio: Alan, big, built like a gorilla; Julie so dainty, pale-skinned, looking demure; and Chrissy, casual in shorts and shirt, looking confident.
“I don’t think I’m going to sleep much tonight,” Julie said. “I’m all nerves at the thought that we could be bringing Susan home tomorrow. It’s just thrilling, and I want to thank you both for putting in so much hard work because without you it would never have got this far. And in particular, thanks to you, Alan, for flying across here, to France.”
“It’s been my pleasure,” said Alan. “I’m just glad Susan is alive and well. How she survived that crash, I’ve no clue. And who knows what the plan in Paris was to be.” He took a sip of his drink before adding, “I’ve enjoyed working with you both. Maybe I should consider a switch of career and join forces with Chrissy here, because the both of you have been pretty persuasive in this whole deal.” He was joking, of course. Or was he? Chrissy took his comment lightly, but his eyes shone in her direction.
“It doesn’t bear thinking about,” said Chrissy, referring to the plan in Paris. If she had got to her destination, I wonder what Tabitha Child’s plan was. To run off with Susan’s ID is ironic considering what has actually happened, don’t you think?”
“We don’t know for sure that that’s what was going to happen, but it does seem plausible at this stage,” Alan added. “I know I’m certainly looking forward to talking more with Susan and finding out why they were meeting, what the plan was. Just out of interest.”
“I wish she was here now and we could ask her,” said Julie.
“It won’t be long till the morning,” Alan said. “And if I may suggest the plan for the morning?” The two women nodded for him to carry on with his thoughts. “I’ll stay outside since Chrissy thinks I’m intimidating,” he said, smiling. “I suggest Julie goes in on her own since Susan is her friend – it will be less emotional and less of a surprise than everyone walking in together.”
“I agree, that’s sensible,” said Chrissy. “I’ll keep myself scarce with you, Alan, until needed.” She glanced across the table at him and he nodded back in agreement.
“What if she doesn’t want to go home with us?” Julie asked.
“I guess that’s where I come in. Since she’s committed offences and I’ve got no jurisdiction in France, I’m obliged to let the French police know and they’ll take care of it. Apart from credit-card fraud, she’s been using somebody’s ID to get in and out of the country, and there are probably other crimes that we can add to the list so she will find herself in trouble when she gets back for sure. But I daresay she’ll find a decent lawyer and, it being a first offence, she’ll be fine.”
“Do you really have to do that?” Julie whined. “It seems so mean after all this time. You’ve come out here to help us and take her back, and then she’d be in trouble with the law here or at home. She loses either way, whether she agrees to come back or not.”
“I can’t just sweep her actions under a rock, I’m sorry. But it’s her first offence so she won’t go down, I’m sure. A community order, perhaps.”
“Let’s hope she comes willingly, and she turns up for work as planned,” said Chrissy. “She’s just as likely to change her mind and carry on running because we don’t know if she’s seen us here already. We’ve no idea where she is.”
“I hadn’t thought about that,” said Julie. “Do you think we should go back to the hotel and hide out there, just in case she’s nearby and can see us?”
“Well, I’m going to head back now anyway,” Chrissy said. “I’m beat on my feet and you must be too, Julie. It’s been a long day Have you even checked in to a hotel yet, Alan?”
“With all the day’s events, I haven’t given it much thought to be honest. Maybe I’ll stroll back to your hotel with you two and hope they’ve got a room free.”
“I’m sure they will have and anyway, if they don’t, Julie and I will bunk in together and you can take her room.” Chrissy gave her sister a friendly prod in the arm with her finger before swallowing the remaining contents of her glass. She stood to leave. The other two followed suit. It had been a long day for everybody and as they walked slowly back through the narrow streets, across to the other side of the river, Julie asked, “Who do you think the dark-haired man was then, the other policeman, and what you think he is doing here? Why hasn’t he made himself known to us, particularly you, Alan?” she enquired.
“I wasn’t aware anybody else was working on the case, and to be fair he probably doesn’t know we’re here looking either. But I’ve no idea who he is. Pity, a name would have been useful.” They walked in silence for a couple of beats, then, “Actually, I’ll ask Bridget, see if she can find out,” he said as an afterthought and pulled out his phone to give her a call. “You girls go on ahead and I’ll follow a few steps behind you.” He found Bridget’s number and held back for the girls to pull ahead while he waited for it to connect.
“Bonjour,” she said with a fake French accent. Alan couldn’t help smiling at the phone.
“Hello yourself. Look, I need another favour. Can you find out who the other detective is that’s here in France? Who else has got an interest in Susan Smith or Tabitha Child? The only description I’ve got is he’s dark.”
“Alan, that could be anybody,” Bridget quipped.
“I wasn’t aware anybody else was interested. Can you do some digging, quietly?
“Didn’t you mention somebody else? Morton was his name, wasn’t it? I’ll see what I can f
ind out.”
“Thanks, Bridget, I appreciate it. If it’s not Morton, I don’t know who it is since I don’t know the man. A close colleague, maybe, a dark one. I doubt a chief super would be here looking without telling me.”
“Leave it to me. You go find your woman and I’ll go find your man.” Then she was gone, leaving Alan’s smile on his face as he hurried to catch up the two women before he lost sight of them altogether.
He hoped there was, indeed, a bed for him.
Chapter Seventy-Five
Bridget hadn’t come through with much. It seemed Chief Superintendent Morton was still in Kent and kept himself to himself. There were no avenues for Bridget to work with to find out who he might have sent to follow Susan. But she wasn’t going to give up that easily. She’d find some way of making the puzzle fit together, that’s what she did best.
It was another beautifully warm day in the cathedral town of Albi. The sun was already climbing in the sky as Julie, Chrissy and Alan rose with the larks, anxious of what lay ahead. So as the three walked from their hotel, across the river and back up towards the cathedral and the café, there was a tingling of excitement in the air, along with nerves and a tiny bit of worry. At 8 am they split up. Chrissy stood on one side of the square, Alan on the other, while Julie headed to the café alone, bats circling in her flat stomach. The two were a little way off but from their vantage points could clearly see anyone coming or going. Each of them in turn was to saunter past the café several times to monitor what was happening. They had to trust Julie and her method, they had to leave her to it, but neither of them was far away should she need help. It wasn’t like Julie was going to throw a bag over Susan then wrestle her friend to the ground in a dramatic capture. It would be a conversation to encourage Susan to come home, and Julie hoped with all her heart that it would work out as planned. Dressed in a pale linen shift dress and kitten heels, she looked her usual stunning self, though a little more relaxed. The light dusting of sunshine had done her the world of good. She took a seat in a sunny spot, an umbrella overhead giving her some dappled shade, and ordered coffee and a croissant. She looked every bit the French local. Her large sunglasses shielded a good proportion of her face as well as allowing her to monitor her surroundings without giving the game away. She didn’t want to be easily noticeable. Shocking Susan was the last thing she wanted to do.