by Linda Coles
“Ready?”
“Not really, but I don’t have a choice, do I? Have you got my belongings?”
“In the hire car, ready to go.” And the two slowly made their way back towards the cathedral square and on to his vehicle. When they were both out of earshot, Chrissy joined Julie and Alan.
“Let’s hope this works,” he said dubiously. “Or else I’ll be looking for a waitressing job when I get back.”
“Waitering,” Julie corrected. “You’re a male.”
“Either or. If they chop my balls off, I could be the former,” he said, glancing around out of habit. “Check your phone tracker before she gets much further away, make sure it’s working.” The women had connected via Find My iPhone, which had been the quickest way to sort out a tracking device at short notice. The phone was set on silent though Airplane Mode would have to sing for it. Chrissy was sure people forgot to turn their phones off on flights all the time. This was no time to worry about it.
“We already did, and it’s fine. I’ll never see my phone again though,” Julie said.
“You can afford a new one, I’m sure. Okay, let’s get ourselves to the airport and changed,” Chrissy added, taking charge and heading for their own hire car. She’d tipped the concierge at the hotel for organising their bags to be packed and their car brought around ready.
“And I’ll get Bridget to allocate seats on that flight,” Alan said. “And I think we’re done bar the waiting to set off.” His smile was there to add encouragement to the others as well as make himself feel better about what would happen next.
He only hoped Susan was safe. He’d made some unorthodox moves in his time, but nothing like this. His intentions and motives were always for the good and he hoped this one would be no different.
A little over an hour and a half later, they were in the departure hall of Toulouse Airport.
“And another charge added to his list,” Alan said happily as they watched Dominic and Susan pass successfully through passport control. This had been Alan’s main worry about the whole set-up, but it had gone as smoothly as any other passenger interaction with the officers. The ticket had been issued in Tabitha Child’s name so Dominic had intended to use her passport too. A silent tick filled a box in Alan’s head. At least Dominic Berger would be investigated for his part in all this, and if he had any sense, he’d add Charles Morton into the mix, if only as leverage in the face of his own punishment.
Everyone has a price.
Filing through passport control themselves, safe in the knowledge that Susan and Dominic were now airside in the small airport, they settled themselves separately around the various nearby departure gates.
There was nothing left to do until they touched down back in the UK.
Chapter Eighty-One
Alan had worked with Bridget for many years and trusted her implicitly. So when their plane finally landed and he read her text, he knew everything was going to work out just fine. Still, it would be good to see her plan in full swing. All through the flight, Alan, Chrissy and Julie had watched the two heads further up the front of the plane – Susan’s and Dominic’s. They were safe and sound and blissfully unaware of what was to happen once they arrived at Heathrow.
The plane taxied to its designated spot and, as usual, impatient people clambered to get their luggage from the overhead lockers long before the seatbelt sign had been switched off. It was distracting and none of the three could see their targets clearly, but since the cabin door hadn’t yet been opened, it didn’t much matter. Susan still had Julie’s phone as a tracking device anyway. Just in case. As people finally filed out and headed towards passport control, the three hung back together just to be sure Susan’s passport in particular went through smoothly, which it did. Regardless of whether Bridget had had a hand in making the transition at both ends so, they were grateful for no hiccups.
Then, all at once, they were through customs and out into the arrivals hall. Alan scanned the area nervously, as did Chrissy. But there was no sign of any police officers waiting. And they couldn’t see Susan and Dominic either.
Alan’s stomach dropped and Chrissy started to feel frantic. Had they just allowed Susan to be abducted by Dominic after all? Had he in fact managed successfully to get her back to England and then had someone else take over without them noticing? It didn’t bear thinking about, but none of them could see Susan or Dominic anywhere.
“Check the app,” screamed Alan and Chrissy pulled her phone out. The blue blob of Susan flashed nearby.
“This way!” she urged and the three darted towards one of the exit doors, not sure what they would eventually see on the other side. They needn’t have worried. A small swarm of officers had surrounded both Susan and Dominic, and Chrissy could see the surprise and frustration in Dominic’s eyes as they neared them. Susan, on the other hand, looked relieved it was all finally over, save for her own misdemeanours. She’d have some explaining to do to Marcus, but there was a limit to what he needed to know. Her past could stay buried a good while longer; there was no need to upset him. Alan scanned for Bridget, her blonde hair settling about shoulder height to one of the officers, and he idled over.
“Nice work, Bridget,” he said. Chrissy and Julie sidled up alongside and nodded to the petit woman.
“Thanks, big man.”
Chrissy and Julie exchanged amused glances.
“I had to involve the boss man, sorry,” she said as Alan’s DI joined the four of them. Not really sure how the man was going to react, Alan kept it businesslike.
“It’s much bigger than this,” he said, waving at the two now in cuffs. People had started to gather. Several had their phones out and were filming the scene ready for YouTube.
“Relax, Alan. Bridget’s filled me in with the most part, though we still need to have a formal chat, obviously.” He made it sound like they were going to share coffee and cake. Alan rather doubted they would. But at least his tone was civil and there’d be no public bollocking for the crowd to witness, which was a saving grace in that respect. “Come on. You can start explaining on the way.” He turned to Chrissy and Julie. “And don’t you two be going far. We’ll need your formal statements soon enough.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Alan said to them both before shaking their hands and heading off with his boss. “Thanks again. It’s sort of been a pleasure.”
Chrissy and Julie were aware they were spare parts now; there was nothing more for them to do as the authorities took over. Watching as Susan and Dominic were escorted away, the two women waved lightly at Susan for a moral boost and she smiled weakly. Julie yelled, “See you soon!”
“I doubt that, Julie,” Chrissy said. “Not for a while at least. There’s a lot to get sorted yet.”
“I know, but she’s not feeling so strong, not at the moment, and she needs hope.”
“She won’t go unpunished, of that I’m sure. Fingers crossed for a community order, eh? Marcus will know a smart lawyer, and on that note, you should call him. Or do you want me to speak to him?”
Julie looked at her watch. It wasn’t late in Hong Kong. “Damn, Susan still has my phone. You’ve got his number?”
Chrissy nodded. “I’ll call him then,” she said and waited to be connected to break the news.
If he was thrilled, he wasn’t showing it in his voice or word choice. Chrissy hung up after a brief and rather one-sided conversation.
“He’s just odd, that man, but he’s on his way back. I wonder what his deal is?”
“What do you mean ‘deal’?”
“Well, I know Susan said it’s been over between them for a while, but still, she is his wife, he can’t dislike her that much, can he?”
“Who knows what goes on behind closed doors, Chrissy. Some marriages are like that,” Julie said. Sadness tinged her words. Was Julie trying to tell Chrissy that her own marriage to Richard was ‘like that’? It wasn’t the time or the place to dig further into that one.
“Come on. Let’s get
your bag back and go home to our own lives. I know I’m looking forward to my own bed tonight. Preferably with Adam in it,” she said, winking at her sister.
Chapter Eighty-Two
The following day Susan was sitting in an interview room along with her lawyer. Alan was also there, as was his DI, making it a typical interview foursome. Having already covered much of the ins and outs of what had happened, there was still one burning question that Alan was anxious to know the answer to: why? Why had she run? What had driven her to take off with another person’s identity? These weren’t the actions of a rational individual. Whatever Alan had been expecting it to be it certainly wasn’t what she was about to say.
“When I was young, eight years old,” Susan started quietly, “my sister, Melanie, was seven, and we’d go for walks together in the local fields near where we lived. We’d pretend to see fairies and play hide and seek with them. Fantasy, like young girls do, I guess. We’d give them names and hide out with them behind walls and in bushes. It was fun.” She smiled at the memory and Alan could only guess the fairies filled her mind now as she reminisced. But her face began to darken, her smile fading as she spoke, eyes focusing on a spot somewhere in the near distance. “But it was spoiled. And I couldn’t help her. The fairies couldn’t help her, and neither could I.” A single tear made its way from her right eye and it tumbled down her cheek. Alan couldn’t see where it landed, but it didn’t matter.
“What happened?” he prodded gently. “What was spoiled, what couldn’t you help her with?”
“She lost her footing in the long grass. She was reaching for one of the fairies – they were at arm’s length, she’d said. But she stumbled and fell. I ran towards her, but she rolled away on her side and couldn’t stop herself,” she said, her words gathering urgency as she relived that day out loud. “And then I couldn’t see her, the grass was too long, but I could hear her calling, screaming as she tumbled down the steep banking towards the tracks and I couldn’t help her.” Tears flowed freely as she turned and her wet eyes locked with Alan’s. He could only guess what would happen next. “The train came so fast, so fast… the noise…” She covered her ears with her hands and squeezed, trying to block it out.
The interview room was silent, nobody spoke as they digested what they assumed must have happened. But Susan wasn’t finished. She had to cleanse her soul, cleanse her heart, and finish what she’d finally started. Not even her parents knew the truth of what had actually happened that day. “The brakes screamed, the driver tried to stop, but there was no time. Melanie was…” She dropped her eyes again, something on the floor attracting her attention. She couldn’t bring herself to say it.
Decapitated.
“And all I could do was lie there, hidden by the same tall grass, and cry for her. I can still smell it, what the brakes made. Hot. Ammonia. I’ll never forget.” She lifted her gaze directly to Alan again, as if remembering something, and added, “I remember the same smell, on the train, when it crashed,” she said hurriedly. “I could smell ammonia!” For Susan, something had clicked into place and the three of them understood. The smell of ammonia had been the trigger, the one thing that had made her return to that day, then run.
She’d run as a child. She’d run as an adult.
“I’ve never told anyone I was there,” she said, looking around the room at the three of them, her eyes willing compassion, a sign that they each understood her pain. “I ran off.”
Alan reached out, “It wasn’t your fault Melanie fell. It was an accident. You weren’t to blame, Susan.”
But she shook her head, no. “If we hadn’t been playing with the fairies, we wouldn’t have been in those fields. It had been my idea to go. I’m to blame! Mum blamed me too, for not keeping Melanie safe, and she’s gone too.” Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated as she fixated on Alan. “It’s my fault she’s dead, they’re both dead!” she screamed, standing up, her chair scraping back noisily as the room filled with her raw and concentrated emotion. Her lawyer stood, anxious to help. Susan was visibly distraught.
Melanie Marchment had been killed. And Susan had carried the raw guilt for nearly twenty-five years.
Alan understood. That’s what Dominic Berger had threatened to tell, to blackmail her with. The death of her sister that she’d run away from. Finally, he now had a reason for it all.
“My client needs a break,” Susan’s lawyer said, and Alan agreed with a nod. Seeing the state she was in, he wondered if to call the doctor. The woman had been through enough stress and anguish to last her a lifetime. Losing a sister would have been bad enough on its own, but to then lose your mother and carry that guilt for so long? And not tell anyone? He hoped, now she’d finally let it all out, she’d be able to heal and gain her emotional strength back. She’d likely need the help of a professional as well as the support of her friends. Alan wondered about where Marcus might fit – did he even have a role in her life from this point on? He doubted it. Not needing any further information for the time being, they decided to hold off on any more questions for the day. The doctor had been called, just to be safe, and had recommended a light sedation. Susan needed to rest.
Alan had contacted Julie who picked her friend up and took her back to her place for the night. Julie didn’t want to leave her alone and thought it was the best thing – a quiet place for Susan to start her recovery in. She could stay as long as she’d like. Marcus was on his way back from Hong Kong and from there, it depended on how strong Susan felt as to what would happen next. But at least Susan Smith was home.
Chapter Eighty-Three
A week later
It was always enjoyable to go away but lovely to get home again. Chrissy and Julie’s trip to France hadn’t exactly been a holiday, though it had been an experience to remember. One for the memoir and one Chrissy would enjoy reciting to her grandchildren one day. Wrapping the whole thing up with Susan had simultaneously brought answers for Chrissy’s other case at the college. While it had been a rather specialist website that Susan had visited and committed herself to, digital forensics had found fine tentacles and similarities to several other sites that targeted a wide range of demographics encouraging unusual behaviour. From auction sites where you could bid for someone to take your driver’s test on your behalf, to sites offering fake employment medicals. Or maybe you wanted to swap your life with someone else for forty-eight hours. It was all available. It seemed no one was spared – teenager to old-age pensioner, they had an angle and sales pitch for all. The problem was how to deal with it. It was way beyond the capabilities of Chrissy and her techy contact so they’d handed over to the police. Bridget had pricked her ears up with interest, though she also knew the site’s creators would have covered their tracks well, employing proxy servers all over the world to keep names and locations hidden. It would be a tough one to unravel, if ever they could. Still, the publicity Chrissy’s college case had generated was hot news. It was one way of making sure vulnerable individuals were aware of the dangers out there.
Dominic Berger still faced charges, and he’d done his best to drop his boss, Morton, in it too. But as Alan had voiced, there was little to no evidence. Phone conversations were not enough – one word against another. And with no digital trace of the rendezvous that night between Susan and Morton, the case would go nowhere. Morton’s alibi for that night was simple. He had been asleep with his wife in bed at their hotel and it had been verified. The fact that he’d been in Paris himself that night? Pure coincidence. Morton had declared any suggestion of his involvement utterly preposterous. That would likely be the end of it. According to Dominic, he himself had been promised a passage back to vice. That would never happen now, and he still had his own disciplinary and punishment to get through. His future as a detective was likely over.
In Susan’s small garden studio, Chrissy, Julie, Alan, Susan and Bridget raised their glasses in a toast.
“To a new life!” they cheered in unison, five smiling faces sipping on an expensive bottle
of champagne. It would likely be Susan’s last for a while. She and Marcus had agreed to go their separate ways and finally get divorced. Having spent so much time without him around, Susan was used to living on her own and, after her solo trip, it really didn’t bother her at all. In fact, she was looking forward to being herself again and getting back to work. New opportunities were on the horizon and Julie had mooted an idea concerning Jooles, Jooles. A franchise, perhaps.
“Where will you move to?” Alan asked Susan.
“I’ve no clue. But I’ve got a court appearance to get through first and I can’t leave the country. So France is out of the question, which is a shame. I quite liked Albi,” she quipped, smiling. “Another boutique shoe business would work well there.”
“We’ll go back for a visit together,” offered Julie. “I missed out on seeing the inside of the cathedral. Something more pressing about a lost woman we were tracking down,” she said, laughing, and the others joined in.
“You’re on!” Susan shouted, eyes wide. “And I love those flats on you, by the way. So pretty,” Susan added, catching Chrissy’s knowing eye and winking.
“My footwear has yet again been the topic of conversation, I see.” Julie said with mock disdain.
“If you’d stuck to wearing your heels, we’d still be pecking about in Calais,” Chrissy said, laughing along with her sister.
But it was good to see Susan relax a little. She was feeling a good deal better about herself and her future and gained more emotional strength each day. Her expedition had taught her a lot about herself and even though she’d never recommend running away, particularly with virtually no belongings to your name and having stolen another’s identity in the process, she was glad she’d done it.