by Amy Cross
Again, his voice trailed off, and he began to realize that all the excuses were starting to fall away. Every time he imagined himself setting the girl on the doorstep at the Stone family mansion, he shuddered at the thought of her being taken into the house. He also felt, deep down, that somehow he'd end up in jail. Conversely, every time he imagined himself taking Rachel through the front door of his own home in Liverpool, he felt a faint, happy glow. He told himself that his wife would never agree to such a thing, but even that excuse quickly faded away.
She would agree.
Deep down, he already knew that.
She'd agree, and she'd raise the girl so perfectly.
“You'd be so happy with us,” he whispered, as Rachel continued to grip his finger. “I don't know what's going on up at that house, but I don't think the real Herbert and the real Diana are around anymore. I don't think I even want to know what's happening. I don't want to be implicated in any of it at all.” He paused. “And I don't think I can take you back there. You deserve better.”
***
“Are you sure no-one's going to come looking for her?” Maureen Trelawney asked, as she and Mac stood on either side of the crib in the spare room of their Liverpool home. “It was all in the news about her going missing.”
“I think Herbert was the only one who knew about the plan,” Mac replied. “He didn't tell his sister or his brother, or his wife, or anyone else.”
“And are you sure it was his brother you saw at the window? Dressed up as him?”
“I don't know what they're up to,” he continued, “but I watched the house for a few more nights. The real Herbert's gone, and I think it's his brother Jack who's playing dress-up now.”
“But why?”
He shook his head. “I don't know. I don't need to know, either. I guess as far as they're concerned, Rachel's gone, and they're not expecting her back. I'm sure as hell not going anywhere near that town ever again. For whatever reason, Herbert's not around anymore, and I'm not getting myself involved in their mess. They'd chuck me under the bus and blame me for everything.”
“You don't know that, love.”
“Of course that's what they'd do! It's what people like that always do to people like us! I can't go to the cops and tell them the truth, they'd have me back in jail inside of an hour. And this little darling'd be taken back to that sick family, and God knows what'd happen to her. She'd probably grow up and become one of them.”
“She is very beautiful,” Maureen admitted.
“And she's not been tarnished by them yet,” he replied. “She's still pure. The Stones haven't twisted her mind and turned her into one of them. There's still hope for the poor little bugger.”
“I never thought we'd be blessed this way. I never thought God would see fit to bring a child to us. He might have chosen a funny way to do it, but maybe he thought we deserved this chance. Maybe this is God's way of trying to set things right. Do you think so, Mac? Do you think this is what God wants?”
“You might be right about that,” Mac said, before reaching into the crib and picking Rachel up. Smiling, he held her high above his head before bringing her back down and kissing her forehead. “She'll be safe here with us. She'll be protected. And with any luck, she'll never, ever have to find out that she was part of that disgusting family.”
Chapter Forty
Today
“M'am, is this your bag?”
Startled, Natalie turned and saw that one of the airport security officers had taken her carry-on luggage from the tray, just a few seconds after it had passed through the scanner.
“I'm sorry?” she stammered, trying not to panic.
“Is this your bag, M'am?”
“Um...” She hesitated, her mind spinning as she tried to work out what to do next. Already, she felt as if she was acting suspiciously, as if the officer must have noticed that she was starting to sweat. “Yes,” she managed finally. “Um, yes, I think so but -”
“I'd like you to just pop over here for a moment with me,” he continued, already heading over to a metal bench. Another security officer went over to join him, but Natalie held back for a moment. In the back of her mind, she was already wondering whether she could just walk away, although she figured she might arouse more suspicion that way. For a few seconds, she remained frozen in place, unable to make a decision.
“Go!” Jack hissed.
She turned to him.
“It's a random check,” he continued. “Either that or you left some liquids in there. Whatever. Just go and talk to the man. We're already running late, our flight to Malta leaves in forty minutes.”
“But -”
“Go!” He shoved her in the small of the back, sending her stumbling forward a couple of paces, and then she made her way over to where the officer had already started opening her bag.
“My colleague saw something on the screen that we'd like to take a closer look at,” the officer explained, as he took out a small black box that Natalie had packed on top of a clothes bundle. “Nothing to worry about, I'm sure, but I'm going to have to look in here.”
She opened her mouth to tell him that it was just a piece of jewelry, but then her heart jumped as the officer opened the box to reveal the three sets of diamond earrings she'd taken from a dresser at the Stone family house.
“Do you know the approximate value of these items, M'am?” the officer asked.
“They're just earrings,” she replied.
“I can see that they're earrings, M'am,” he continued. “A set of earrings similar to these was reported stolen a few days ago from a shop in London. We've been asked to keep a lookout, but there's no need to worry. Do you happen to have any documents that prove these belong to you?”
“I don't,” she stammered, “not on me. Listen, our plane leaves soon so maybe you can just keep the earrings.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Just keep them. It's not worth a fuss.” She tried to grab her bag, only for the officer to take hold of a strap, keeping the entire bag on the bench. “I'm really not too bothered about them.”
“I'm going to have to ask you to come with me into one of the cubicles,” the officer continued, and now there was a tougher, more serious edge to his voice. “I'm sure we can clear this up quickly.”
“What's going on?” Jack asked as he joined them. As soon as he spotted the earrings, he recognized them. “What are those doing here?”
“I'm sorry,” Natalie said, her eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Jack, I just wanted to take something. I saw them in a drawer and I just wanted them.”
One hour later, Jack was sitting on a nearby bench, still waiting for the officers to finish speaking to Natalie. He knew there'd been a misunderstanding, and that the earrings weren't the same ones that had been reported missing from a London shop, but the officers had been slow to act and the plane to Malta had already left. With his laptop open, Jack was already booking them onto the next flight, which left several hours later. Just as he finished paying, he heard footsteps nearby, and he turned to see Natalie emerging from one of the cubicles with her bag over her shoulder.
“They checked,” she said, wiping her eyes. “They realized the earrings aren't the ones that were stolen.”
“They weren't stolen from London,” he said, shoving his laptop into his bag as he got to his feet, “but you took them from the house in Landsley before we left.”
“I'm sorry,” she whimpered. “You know I have a problem sometimes. I just -”
“Don't worry about it,” he replied. “I've booked us onto a later flight. We should be in the air by now, but hopefully this delay won't cost us too much.”
“You don't hate me, do you?”
“Natalie -”
“Please, Jack!” She put her arms around him, hugging him tight. “I just wanted them! It was just bad luck that they looked like some that had been stolen in London!”
“We'll talk about it later,” he replied, trying to stay calm.
“Right now, we need to -”
Before he could finish, he spotted figures in the distance. Several police officers were making their way straight toward the security area, and Jo Mason was right behind them. As soon as he saw Jo's face, and as they made eye contact, he realized that the game was up.
“Actually,” Jack said with a sigh, as he set his bag back down, “I think this little delay might have cost us quite dearly.”
***
“They've confessed,” Detective Grant said as he and Jo headed across the parking lot. “It's a good job they had a problem going through security, or we'd have been too late to catch them. They'd have been off to Malta and we might never have tracked them down.”
“Have they implicated Margaret Stone too?” she asked.
“We don't have enough to act. Natalie's basically a sobbing mess. Jack's quite reserved. He's admitted to the basics and he's told us where to find the bodies, but I get the feeling he's holding back. When he answers our questions, he seems to be trying to figure out how much we already know. I hate to say it, but the man's smart.”
“He must be protecting Margaret,” she continued. “Maybe he thinks she'll look after things until he and Natalie get out of jail.”
“Which won't be for a while. Unfortunately, my officers spoke to Margaret Stone earlier, and she's professing ignorance. She started talking about bad eyesight, and bad hearing, and it's pretty obvious to me that she's laying the groundwork for her defense. She's going to claim she had no idea that the switch had been made. Believe it or not, she wants us to believe that she never knew Jack and Natalie were pretending to be Herbert and Diana.”
“That's ludicrous!”
“Absolutely. She might just pull it off, though.”
“What about the murder of Cassie Hayes?”
“Jack and Natalie both deny any knowledge.”
“I think they're telling the truth, but I'll grind one of them down eventually.”
“Then who -”
“Margaret Stone is a lot smarter than she seems. She's been lurking in the background the whole time, watching and learning. It wouldn't surprise me if she's been preparing for this day.” She paused for a moment as they reached her car. “She probably realized Jack and Natalie's deception would come crashing down, so she'll have been working to distance herself and build up a credible defense. Herbert was a plotter, but Margaret's different, she thinks on her feet more.”
“This mess is going to take a while to untangle,” he admitted.
“We don't have time for that.”
“You used to be a cop, right? So you know how this works. Margaret Stone is gonna get some very expensive lawyers, and at the very least she'll be able to delay us. This could grind on for a while.”
“She killed Cassie Hayes.”
“So you keep saying, but we've got nothing to tie her to the murder so far.”
“That's because she's being careful,” Jo told him. “It wouldn't surprise me if she's going to try pinning Cassie's death to Jack or Natalie. Her only loyalty was ever to Herbert, and she won't give a damn about implicating her other brother. I talked to Bradley Botham, and from what he told me it sounds as if Margaret's overriding priority is self-preservation. In fact, I'm starting to think that she was willing to entertain a relationship with Herbert purely because it made her life easier.”
“That's a bit of a stretch, isn't it? And slightly cynical.”
“I'll get the proof you need,” she replied, as she unlocked her car door. “I think I know exactly where I'll find it, too.”
Chapter Forty-One
Today
“Looking for something?”
Startled, Jo turned and saw that a figure was standing in the open doorway, staring straight at her.
“This shed belongs to my family,” Margaret continued, as she took a step inside. “I highly doubt that you were given permission by anyone to be in here. In fact, I'm the only person left who could grant permission, so it would seem that you're trespassing. I hope, Miss Mason, that I'm not going to have to call the police.”
“I was looking for the bike.”
“What bike?”
“The bike you were on when you murdered Cassie Hayes in cold blood.”
“I'm a lady of...” Margaret hesitated. “Well, let's just say that I'm of an age that rather precludes motorcycle leathers. Besides, where in the world would I get a gun from?”
“Bradley has a license to keep arms at his home,” Jo replied. “I wouldn't be surprised if one of his pistols might have gone missing for a few hours. And as for the leathers, I'm sure you could squeeze yourself into a set if you were really desperate.”
“Oh, please...”
“And you were desperate, weren't you?” She paused, watching Margaret's face and searching for any sign that the facade was starting to crack. After a moment, she saw that the older woman's smile seemed false, as if it might slip at any moment. “You were terrified that the truth was going to come out,” she continued. “Cassie was starting to ask just the wrong sort of questions, just enough for you to realize that she knew more than was good for her. I guess your plans never took into account the possibility that someone claiming to be Rachel might show up one day. Did you decide to murder her as soon as she arrived, or did you only come up with the plan later, once you realized she was going to start digging into the past?”
“That's certainly an entertaining thought,” Margaret purred, “but if I was willing and able to murder the poor girl, why would I have first agreed to let you look into her sudden appearance?”
“Bradley sprung that on you and you thought fast,” Jo suggested. “You didn't know yourself whether or not she was really Rachel, not until I uncovered the truth. That's always been one of your specialties, hasn't it? Thinking quickly and turning a situation to your advantage. Is that what happened the very first time Herbert made a move on you, when you were both younger? Did you realize that he was going to inherit everything from your father? Did you figure it might be useful to make him want you? Did you manipulate him, the way you manipulated Bradley?”
“Herbert and I were in love!” she snapped.
“But you still managed to keep going after his death.”
“That's called stoicism, my dear. No amount of wailing could ever have brought him back. I mourned, and then I moved on. And before you try to get moralistic with me, let me assure you that my poor, dear Herbert would have approved very much. I was his kind of woman.”
“I'll find the bike,” Jo replied.
“No. You won't.”
“And I'll find the gun.”
“Again, no.”
“And I'll prove that you shot Cassie.”
“Impossible. You're a fantasist, Miss Mason. As I told the police, my brother Jack and his lady friend Natalie perpetrated a rather dreadful deception. I have a note from my doctor, confirming that my eyesight is far from perfect, and it would seem that I allowed myself to be fooled. As I'm sure you can imagine, I feel utterly foolish, but being a fool is not a criminal offense.”
“Nobody believes that story for a moment.”
“Nobody can prove otherwise. I'm the victim here. Fortunately, the whole sorry tale is over now.”
“When this is really over,” Jo continued, “you'll rot in jail for the rest of your life. Not only for killing Cassie in cold blood, but also for your complicity in the cover-up of Herbert and Diana Stone's deaths. You knew what was going on. For fifteen years, you lived in this house and turned a blind eye to the fact that a massive scam was being perpetrated. The only reason the police haven't arrested you already is that they're too busy with Jack and Natalie. As soon as they realize the truth, they'll come and take you away.”
“Oh dear,” Margaret replied with a faint smile, “then I suppose I shall have to get some very expensive lawyers involved, shan't I? That's one of the things Herbert taught me. If you can slow the law down for long enough, you can usually get your way in the end.” She paused
for a moment, somehow still managing to maintain her smile. “And now if you don't mind, you have five minutes to get off my property, or I shall call the police and inform them that I've apprehended a trespasser. And I imagine that you can't afford a decent lawyer.”
***
“She's getting away with it!” Jo hissed, staring down at her cup of coffee as she sat at the pub's bar. “She's had fifteen years to plan for this moment. She's got every angle covered, and I don't know where to start picking her scheme apart.”
“She'll come a cropper eventually,” Nick replied, before taking another sip of beer. “They always do. Bad ones, I mean. They always screw up eventually.”
“Only the ones who get caught,” Jo said darkly. “Margaret's probably already siphoned off enough money from the company. She won't care if the rest goes to the shareholders and investors, because she'll have made plans to get far away from here. She must have realized from the start that eventually the whole scheme would come crashing down, so she's been very careful. And then Cassie showed up out of the blue, claiming to be Rachel, and she must have panicked.”
“But the police -”
“The police are too busy questioning Jack and Natalie. They think Jack must have killed Cassie, to keep her from spilling the beans about the family's nasty little secret. They'll realize the truth eventually, but by then it's going to be too late. Margaret's probably already got her plane tickets booked.”
“Then what do you suggest we do about it?”
“We need to find that bike. Or the gun. Or just something that'll tie her to the scene. If we can get the ball rolling, she'll crumble. Right now, she thinks she's untouchable, so we have to make her realize that we're not going away. If we can make her panic again, maybe she'll make a mistake.” She paused for a moment. “We need the gun. If we can find the gun, we can start bringing down the rest of her plan.”