by Lloyd Otis
With everything back on track, they continued to the arrivals lounge to find it almost deserted.
They saw a member of the airport staff standing around, so Beatrice and Kearns spoke to her. She confirmed the passengers from Ceinwen’s flight had already passed through arrivals and checked out their luggage.
They were too late.
Breck noticed a bit of activity behind them between a group of security guards. He trotted over, hoping it might lead to something. He showed his badge.
‘Couldn’t help noticing your discussion I’m DI Breck from Cransham Police Station, is everything all right lads?’
‘We’re holding a man that’s been acting suspiciously. We think he came to meet someone here but they either didn’t turn up or he missed them,’ one of the guards said.
Breck wondered if it could be Troy.
‘What does he look like?’
‘Around 6’1, well-built, light brown hair.’
‘Can you take me to him? There’s a small chance he may be the man that I’m looking for in connection with my ongoing investigation.’
‘Sure, come this way.’
Breck followed the guard to the holding room believing the chase for Troy had gone on for long enough and had started to dent his reputation. It wasn’t his fault Troy escaped from Kearns but he became implicated by association and wanted it rectified.
They turned into a restricted area then through a short corridor until they reached a white door.
‘He’s in there being interviewed,’ the guard said. An excited Breck peered through the glass panel on the door but his face said it all when he saw the man in a tatty brown suit. ‘Not him?’
‘No, that’s not him.’
The guard offered to walk him back but Breck refused. He knew the way and when he found Beatrice and Kearns, they were sitting down in the lounge.
‘Where did you go?’ Kearns asked him.
‘Round the back, I thought we had a lead. False alarm, so it looks like we’ve missed her.’ Breck turned to Beatrice. ‘Do you think her workplace got her flight time wrong?’
‘They seemed certain about it when I spoke to them.’
‘Do we know her home address?’
‘I can ask Xenon to give it to us. They’re a bit difficult to deal with but shouldn’t stand in our way if we mention she’s part of our murder investigation.
‘There’s something else I found out too.’
‘What is it?’
‘Troy’s girlfriend shares the same employer as her husband.’
‘Her husband?’ Breck repeated while Kearns cursed.
‘Yes, she’s married to a Richard Phelps.’ Breck and Kearns never expected to hear that and it explained why Troy had been so vague about her. ‘Ceinwen’s husband was overseas as well on the same trip.’
‘OK, get what you can from Xenon.’
All three of them then left the airport. For Beatrice, there was no reward for her tenacity. For Kearns, it happened to be another mishap in her favour. For Breck, knowing Troy had reached Ceinwen first pissed him off and made him more determined than ever to get him.
THIRTY FOUR
A susurrus of wind rattled the window to break the silence and Troy turned to see Ceinwen fast asleep. He admired the perfect shape of her lips and the smoothness of her skin. He planted a gentle kiss upon her cheek then nudged her awake. She smiled but recent events worried her.
‘We should go to the police and tell them what you told me. You could say that you went for a walk during the unaccounted time and you just wanted to be by yourself. That’s your alibi.’
‘There’s no one to verify it.’
‘We have to do something now. I mean it.’
‘I agree, perhaps soon.’
‘I’ll even cover for you if I have to.’
It was a sweet gesture but one that Troy knew his lover couldn’t fulfil. ‘Ceinwen you can’t because you were on a plane. Also, being associated with me would be bad for you in every way.’
‘I’m saying use the alibi, no matter the repercussions. For me, please.’
‘What about your career and my career?’
She threw her hands up. ‘We’ll start again, get new jobs. Change our names and make a fresh start.’
Troy rolled his fist and bit into his knuckles. Ceinwen needed to stay put and run her life as normal, for everyone’s sake.
‘Just hang in there for me a little longer, please,’ he begged.
Ceinwen she said nothing more and stormed out of bed. Troy followed her to the kitchen and the lapse in time did not alter her mood. He noticed that the sense of adventure she used to have had been replaced by dread and uncertainty, so he wrapped his arms around his frightened girlfriend. They spent a few moments listening to each other’s heartbeat, feeling the warmth of each other’s bodies, and Troy knew he shouldn’t be in so deep. He had grown too close to her and broken his own rule. One day soon he’d have to pay the price. Ceinwen unburied her face from his chest. She had made her decision.
‘OK, I’ll hang on in there for you.’
‘It’s for the best.’
‘When this is settled and you’re free, have you ever thought about what would be next for the two of us. I’ll be divorced from Richard soon I’m sure.’
Troy pretended the world wasn’t that bad and held Ceinwen just that little bit tighter. He hadn’t given much thought to the future – they were having illicit fun. The thought of something permanent was an idea he never considered. Although he knew other men like him who had taken that route he just couldn’t envisage it. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to.
Troy released Ceinwen from his grasp and switched on the television but while they were both watching, he witnessed her tenebrous expression. He hoped it would pass but it remained for a long enough to bug him.
‘What’s weighing you down?’
She couldn’t hold it in anymore. ‘There’s something I have to tell you,’ she said. ‘It’s about my ex-boyfriend. I know this may sound far-fetched but I fear he’s going to hurt us. He really will.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Marcin.’
‘Isn’t he just a loudmouth. An idiot?’
‘Maybe I overplayed that bit. Over in New Jersey he sent one of his thugs to follow me around.’
‘What did he look like?’
‘A tall man, said his name was Eddie and he had a distinctive goatee.’ She drew the outline.
‘Did he hurt you?’
‘No, just scared me a bit. I’m fine.’
Troy didn’t want to make a big deal of it. He needed her to carry on doing what she did without any distractions and unbeknown to her, he had anticipated the emergence of her ex-boyfriend.
*
Late into the night when Troy had fallen asleep, Ceinwen changed her clothes and left the house. She walked down the darkened street with her gaze pinned to the ground, battling to keep her courage up. She had told them where to collect her from in a bid to retain control. They didn’t know she lived nearby and after she turned the corner a waiting Granada swung its door open.
Ceinwen paused and recalled the first time she met the man that would become her nightmare. She remembered travelling into work thinking about her latest argument with Richard that morning. It poured with rain too. She felt ruffled when she emerged from Goodge Street Underground Station, realising that she had left her umbrella on the train. If that wasn’t bad enough, the heel broke on her shoe. Exhausted and fed up, she stood in the rain, looking at all around her and wanted to cry. The tears refused to fall. Then the raindrops stopped hitting her, but she could still see other people around getting wet. Ceinwen struggled to figure it out. Until she saw a man next to her holding an umbrella aloft. He held it over her head and she was lost for words. She thanked him and he introduced himself as Marcin, and he gave her his umbrella, insisting that she keep it. He made his request in such a way she couldn’t refuse, and when he left, she watched him melt into
the crowd.
Ceinwen arrived at work on a high. Being drenched didn’t matter, neither did her earlier argument with Richard. Or the broken heel. It was as if someone had opened her eyes and she couldn’t shake the feeling. She decided that the umbrella should be returned to its rightful owner so the next day, she completed the same journey. Left her home at the same time, exited the same underground station, walked towards the same bus stop. She didn’t spot him but she continued the pattern the next day, and the next. On the fifth day she saw him again. Marcin said he had been hoping to see her too and a happy Ceinwen handed back the umbrella. They spoke for longer this time and he bought her a coffee. Afterwards, she accepted the invitation to dinner.
Marcin wanted to know so much about her that it became overwhelming. He showed interest in her work and thought her business skills could be better used. She asked how, he remained vague with the answer. He showered her with gifts and attention. A week later their affair began.
The change occured when he knew she had fallen for him. He began to take her for granted. His threats were veiled at first but very real and it scared her. Business became the one thing he did not wish to discuss in any detail. He told her he imported and exported goods but the drugs made him careless. One morning she saw more money than she had ever seen before and confronted him. By then, he had become a servant to the temptations around him, and it made him snappy and short tempered. He began to terrify her and almost broke her fingers once too. Then he was arrested and they locked him up.
She would’ve visited him in prison but he didn’t want her to. Had he grown tired of her? Ceinwen felt confused so tried again with her husband Richard, and learned to hold back the words of protest when he’d say something she disagreed with. She put up with his petty behaviour and so it went on until she met Alexander. In an instant, Richard became a noose around her neck once again.
Ceinwen’s recollections forced an impatient Eddie to push his head through the opened window and beckon her into the car. She jumped in, convinced that she was doing the right thing, all the way to Pimlico.
When Eddie pulled up outside Marcin’s home he left the engine running, leaving Ceinwen to let herself out. She caught her reflection in the rear-view mirror. Her hair, lipstick, and mascara, made her feel cheap but she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind as Eddie drove away. She walked to main door alone and remembered the house in better times, but these set of circumstances made it a much more difficult journey. Ceinwen took the deepest breath she could, readied herself, then pressed the doorbell.
A butler with the physique of a body builder, forced to squeeze into a uniform made for someone half his size, let Ceinwen inside. Overpriced paintings still hung on the walls – Marcin’s attempt to appear cultured to his guests, and mini statures of naked Greek athletes were positioned in a line along the hallway floor. The butler led Ceinwen towards the dining room where she saw a table adorned with lit candles in beautiful bronze holders. They provided a romantic setting and an opened bottle of champagne had been placed on the table in full view. The butler pulled out a seat for her and by setting up the room, it was as if Marcin had stepped back into the past before the drugs, mood swings, the lies. Before the hunger for power took over.
Ceinwen never had a plan or an escape route. She used to be able to manipulate Marcin and hoped she still could. Regardless, she wanted to feel positive so reached over and poured out some of the champagne into a glass. She swallowed it in one quick burst to steady her nerves. It worked.
She didn’t hear the door open but felt a presence from behind and turned to see Marcin, standing in the doorway. His appearance hadn’t changed much since the last time she saw him, and he stared at her with thoughts of yesteryear. Wondering what could have been. His dark sunken eyes were a testament to his lack of sleep and the smell of paprika, and garlic clung to him tighter than a vest.
Marcin placed his hands into the pockets of his beige trousers and rounded off his look with a lilac shirt. He stepped into the room and signalled to the butler to leave then grabbed a seat and placed it beside Ceinwen.
‘You look great,’ he said. ‘We have food coming soon.’
After a lop-sided smile cracked his face he held her hand in a way that amplified his desperation. She shrank away.
‘You said you just wanted us to talk,’ she reminded him.
Marcin straightened up. ‘Yes and we are doing. It’s just that I haven’t seen you in a while.’
Ceinwen had no idea how long the ‘meeting’ would last but she hoped it wouldn’t be for an eternity. She felt uncomfortable sitting next to him, and although the dining room was filled with fragrant sweet smells, it made her wary. She drank some more champagne but decided against eating anything. Marcin would poison her given half the chance.
‘Marcin, I haven’t come here to dine with you. We were good once but that’s all over with and I just wanted to tell you that face-to-face.’ Marcin hung his head in a rare moment of vulnerability. ‘Please just let me go, so that I can get on with the rest of my life.’
‘You said you’d do anything to make me leave you alone, remember?’
‘Yes I remember.’
‘Sleep with me.’
‘I can’t do that.’
‘Why?’
‘I know what I said but you’ve twisted it. You’d force me to do degrading things just to prove a point.’
‘You sound like you don’t trust me.’ Ceinwen silence spoke volumes. ‘I guess you don’t. I hear you have a new man and I’m not referring to your husband because he was never new. Does this new man treat you well?’
He knew about Troy.
‘Yes and he’s completely different to you.’
‘Maybe I should tell your husband about your affairs.’
‘We’ll be divorced soon enough so you’d be wasting your time.’
Marcin could tell she had toughened up since they were last together and lost some of her fear for him. He needed to rectify that.
‘You can’t trade me in so easy. You go when I let you, not before.’
‘I don’t love you Marcin, don’t you get it? Why send someone to follow me around in New Jersey and how did you even know I was going to be there on business?’
Marcin refused to answer and kept his gaze fixed to the floor like a sulking schoolboy. Whenever he did that something bad often followed. It would be no different this time.
‘You’re wrong.’ He lifted his head. ‘Maybe if I get rid of your new lover there’ll be room for me again in your life.’
The musclebound butler returned to the room with food and Marcin rose from the chair to sit at the other end of the table. The butler filled the plates then left the room.
‘It’s time to eat,’ Marcin instructed and Ceinwen’s face crumpled. ‘Anything wrong?’ The change in him had begun.
‘I’m not hungry. I’ve already eaten.’ Ceinwen twisted her napkin in frustration, tired of his churlish manner. ‘Leave me alone otherwise I’ll go straight to the police.’
She gambled with that response but had nothing to lose. It didn’t work. Marcin became incandescent with rage while she became determined to destroy the sick world which he had invited her into.
‘If you go to the police you know what will happen don’t you?’ I’ll wipe out your father then come for you.’
Ceinwen pushed back the seat and attempted to stand. When she did, she experienced a see-saw effect. Her head felt woozy and she couldn’t work out why. Then she found the answer. The champagne had been drugged. Marcin’s sucker punch.
Ceinwen tried to walk away, but had to hold onto the side of the table for support until her legs lost their strength and buckled beneath her.
She collapsed onto the floor after losing control of her body. She couldn’t move and the drowsiness proved hard to shake. In a matter of moments Marcin stood over her, seething and clenching his fists.
‘Understand something Ceinwen. I can do whatever I want, whenever I w
ant and until I say otherwise, you belong to me.
THIRTY FIVE
Troy awoke on the sofa with blurred eyes, cursing his poor night’s sleep. Too many things continued to occupy his mind so he thought it best to go for an early morning jog and clear his head. He toppled out of bed then hauled himself to his feet, completed a few stretches, then slipped on a red Slazenger tracksuit he had left behind the last time he visited Ceinwen. He put her hideaway home at around two miles from the Surrey Commercial Docks area, and Troy left the house, and found himself running in that direction. The roads were quiet enough for him to be comfortable and it gave him time to think. He loved the freedom that a run offered him and everything rolled along just fine until he jogged past a familiar face. Troy held back and watched the man with the dark hair and blond highlights leave the Capri that had followed him. The man popped into a newsagents and Troy couldn’t believe it. He didn’t return to the car when he left so Troy tracked him, being careful to keep out of sight and at a safe distance. Or so he thought.
For a few moments after he crossed the road, Troy lost him and remained in limbo until a hand gripped his forearm, forcing him to stop. He had found him. Or was it the other way around?
‘We like to bury the dead quick in my country so I’ll afford you the same privilege,’ the man said.
He hooked his arm under Troy’s and shoved something sharp into the base of his spine, quelling any attempts to pull away. His eyes were devoid of life, nothing but a lingering quagmire of anger and hatred as he forced Troy to walk towards the Surrey Commercial Docks area nearby. Now closed and landfilled, some would say the perfect place to make a person disappear forever.
‘I’ve been looking for you but you’re a hard person to find,’
‘Who sent you?’
‘I can’t tell you that but you’ve done bad things and there’s a price to pay for doing bad things.’
‘Who are you?’
‘Call me Blondy.’
That didn’t make too much sense considering the highlights took up just twenty-five per cent of his hair with the other seventy-five per cent being a natural brown, but Troy rolled with it.