by Susan Lewis
‘Never.’
‘Which doesn’t necessarily mean she doesn’t know about it?’
‘No, I suppose not, but we usually tell each other everything.’
Laurie noted the echo of Sophie Long’s mother. ‘Do you think you could ask her about it?’ she said.
Georgie looked doubtful. ‘I can try,’ she said, ‘but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know …’ She stopped, looked down at her empty cup, then said, ‘You think it’s what she might be hiding?’
‘It could be,’ Laurie answered.
‘So do you think they will go after her? Do they mean her some harm?’
‘It’s possible,’ Laurie responded.
‘Oh God, it’s all so sinister and horrible,’ Georgie groaned, burying her face in her hands. ‘To think of anyone hurting her …’
‘That’s what we’re trying to avoid,’ Laurie reminded her. ‘So please try to get her to tell you what she knows.’
Georgie nodded. ‘If she’s taking drugs … Do you think she’s more likely to talk when she’s high? Should I try asking then?’
‘It might be an idea,’ Laurie agreed. ‘And while you’re at it, you should probably try to persuade her to come home.’
‘I’d love to,’ Georgie responded. ‘But you heard what she said, so I wouldn’t hold out much hope on that front – at least not until after that film’s been made.’
‘But it’s worth a try.’
‘Of course.’
Laurie picked up her bag.
Georgie got to her feet and stood behind her chair. ‘Bruce said you wouldn’t splash details of the tape all over the front page,’ she said. ‘You won’t, will you?’
Laurie shook her head. ‘Not at all,’ she answered. ‘But it would be very helpful if you’d let me take it so I can make a copy.’
Georgie looked uncertain, then, turning to the machine, she clicked it open. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘I’m trusting you because I really do believe you want to help her. Please don’t prove me wrong.’
‘I won’t,’ Laurie assured her. ‘I promise.’
As she boarded the train back to London Laurie was on the phone to Elliot. ‘Something that’s really bothering me,’ she said, keeping her voice low as she turned into a first-class carriage and began edging down the aisle, ‘is if they suspect Beth of knowing more than she should, why haven’t they just got rid of her the way they did with Sophie? They, by the way, could include Colin, so that’s not me writing him off as a suspect.’
‘I’d say,’ he responded, ‘that Mrs Ashby suddenly dead at this time would create a great deal more problems than Mrs Ashby alive, whatever she might know.’
‘Because,’ Laurie responded, moving into a window seat, ‘coming so soon after Sophie’s sudden departure, it would inevitably spark off all kinds of enquiries that they wouldn’t be able to avoid with as much ease as they are now. Yes, I see what you mean.’
‘It could also,’ he continued, ‘weaken the case against Ashby, because if his wife vanished now his alibi couldn’t be more cast iron, and if he didn’t kill her, then maybe he didn’t kill Sophie Long either.’
‘Mmm, good point,’ Laurie responded, as the stationmaster blew his whistle and waved to the driver. ‘Which gets us where?’
‘To the reason why Beth Ashby is still breathing, and an increased reason to believe that Ashby might well have been framed.’
‘Mm,’ she said again. Then scowling discouragement at a woman who looked about to plonk herself down opposite, she said, ‘OK. Next. I know we’ve been over this a hundred times already, but once again, Beth Ashby going out to get paper at more or less the same time as the murder … The alibi’s just so convenient.’
‘But if science has failed to put her at the scene of the crime, suspicions certainly won’t.’
‘And then there’s the cleaner who says she was there the whole time, except those few minutes, of course. What about the fibres that remain a mystery? Obviously they’ve ruled out Beth Ashby, but do we know about Heather Dance?’
‘She has a rock-solid alibi,’ he reminded her.
Laurie sighed. ‘On duty at the play group,’ she muttered. ‘OK, this is right out there now, probably completely off the wall, but you don’t suppose the two of them got together and paid someone to kill Sophie and make it look as though Colin did it? And maybe that’s why Beth popped out at that time, to make the pay-off?’
Elliot was quiet for a moment. ‘I guess it’s possible,’ he said, sounding as doubtful as Laurie felt. ‘But first of all, why would they want to frame Colin like that? And secondly, where would Gatling and the syndicate fit in?’
‘I’ve got no idea on either count,’ she responded. ‘I’m just struggling to come up with something more than the flimsy suspicions we’ve currently got. Where are you?’
‘On my way to a meeting in the City.’
‘Something big?’
‘Promising.’
‘Good. Are we all getting together later?’
‘Seven. At The Grapes,’ and the line went dead.
Rolling her eyes, she clicked off her own phone, then took out her notebook and headset. Now was as good a time as any to start jotting down details of what was on the tape, as well as what she’d discussed with Georgie Cottle. It was a shame she wouldn’t be able to quote directly from the tape, but there were ways round it that would still paint the same picture, so she wasn’t unduly concerned.
She was still making notes when several more people got on the train at Didcot. She watched them absently as they moved down the carriage, breaking off into various seats, jamming luggage between the seat backs, unclipping briefcases or unfolding papers. Her mind was so full of imagined goings on in Sophie Long’s flat, on a street near Beth Ashby’s old Fulham home, in the offices of Marcus Gatling, and even in Ava Montgomery’s new LA life, that she barely noticed the man who slipped into the seat opposite. She merely returned to her notes and jotted down a reminder to try interviewing Mitzi Bower or Theo Kennedy about Beth Ashby’s book, since they were probably the only source now of finding out what it was about.
Yawning as the train pulled out of the station, she was just taking off her headset when the man opposite her said, ‘Hello, Laurie.’
Her eyes had yet to move to his face, but she instinctively knew who it was, and already she was reacting.
‘How are you?’ he asked, adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses.
As fear erupted in her heart she looked wildly round at the other passengers. They were all behind papers or attached to phones, oblivious to her, but at least they were there.
‘How was Mrs Cottle?’ he said, smiling.
She turned back to him. Her mind was in turmoil; she couldn’t make herself think.
He continued to smile. ‘What did the two of you discuss?’ he enquired.
She didn’t answer. She didn’t know what to say.
‘What did you discuss?’ he asked again, his tone transporting her back to the relentless questioning she’d undergone at the house in Suffolk.
She looked at him, and reminded herself that they were in a public place. There was nothing he could do with all these people around. ‘That’s between me and Georgie,’ she responded, sounding far more composed than she felt.
The smile never wavered. ‘Believe me, that’s not a clever reply,’ he told her.
Her hands were shaking, her whole body felt weak. She wanted to scream at him to get away from her, but she was too afraid of what he might do. ‘We talked about a lot of things,’ she said.
He pushed up his glasses again. ‘Please don’t think, because we’re on a train, that pressure can’t be exerted,’ he said in his chillingly benign tone.
Anger made a sudden break through the fear. ‘Are you threatening me?’ she challenged, hoping to catch someone’s attention. ‘Did you just threaten me?’ She was shocked by how forceful she sounded when inside she was like jelly.
‘I merely stated a fact,’ he replied, and r
eaching into his inside pocket he took out a mobile phone.
For one horrifying moment she’d thought it was going to be a gun, and as he laid it on the table, just a few inches from hers, she could still feel the frenzied pounding of her heart.
Her eyes moved between the phone and him, trying to work out its significance. He merely watched her, then after a while he picked it up, pushed two buttons and put it to his ear. ‘OK,’ he said into it, and rang off.
As alarm smothered her confusion she looked round again, trying to think what to do. Who had he been talking to? What was OK? Was there someone else here on the train? Were they planning to do something to her? Oh God, how was she going to get out of here?
‘Did you make a tape of your interview with Mrs Cottle?’ he asked.
Her eyes moved back to his.
He waited.
‘It wasn’t an interview,’ she replied.
‘Is that what you’re writing?’ he said, nodding towards her notebook.
She looked down at it.
‘Were you listening to the tape? Is that why you’re wearing a headset?’
Her eyes went back to his face. ‘I don’t believe this,’ she cried. ‘Just who the hell do you think you are, accosting me on a train, harassing me, bullying me –’
‘Why don’t you just hand over the tape and I’ll be gone.’ His hand came out, waiting to receive it.
She glared at him, disguising her fear with fury. ‘Maybe you’d like me to pull the emergency cord,’ she said through her teeth.
‘By all means. But it won’t help you keep the notebook and tape.’
His certainty was unnerving her badly.
‘The tape,’ he repeated.
His hand remained cupped on the table. She looked at it and felt a horrible welling of impotence. Hardly an hour had passed since she’d promised Georgie that the tape would be safe with her, and already it wasn’t. She glanced up at the red emergency handle.
He looked up too, then gestured towards it, as though inviting her to continue.
More fear crowded into her heart. She didn’t understand it. Pulling the cord couldn’t help him, yet the threat didn’t bother him. For one wildly paranoid moment she wondered if everyone in the carriage was with him, but that was absurd. This was a public train for God’s sake. So he was bluffing. He was pretending to be unconcerned about the cord, so why not call the bluff?
She was about to get to her feet when her mobile suddenly rang. She looked at it, hesitated, then grabbed it before he could. ‘Laurie Forbes,’ she barked.
‘Laurie. It’s Dad.’
‘Dad!’ She glared at the man, as though mention of her father would make him back off.
‘Darling, there’s a gentleman here claiming that you’re withholding important information regarding a murder case.’
She blinked as her own weapon came back to hit her between the eyes.
‘Is it true, darling?’
‘Dad, listen …’ But she didn’t know what to say. The horror of what was happening was closing around her like a siege.
‘Laurie, I know you’re very dedicated to your job, but if you can help solve a murder, darling –’
‘I know, Dad. I know. It’s just … Who is the man? Did he give you his name?’
‘He’s Chief Inspector Cormand, from Scotland Yard.’
Suddenly she wanted to scream at her father, tell him to wake up and realize that it was hardly normal for someone to come to him if they wanted information from her. Didn’t he realize he was being used? That even as he spoke he was being held hostage in his own home? In truth she hoped to God he didn’t, for it would scare him half to death.
She looked at the man facing her and felt a near murderous rage sweep right the way through her. ‘Tell the inspector,’ she said through clenched teeth to her father, ‘that his colleague has the information he’s looking for.’
She heard her father relay the message, then another voice came on to the line saying, ‘Perhaps I could speak to my colleague.’
As Laurie handed over the phone, she dug into her bag and extracted the tape from the machine. She had no choice but to hand it over now. She just hoped to God it was enough to make them leave her parents alone.
‘Everything’s satisfactory,’ the man said into the phone as he took the tape and scooped up the notebook too.
Laurie snatched the phone as he passed it back. ‘Hello? Dad? Are you there?’ she said tersely, but the line was dead. She looked at the man. ‘If anything happens to him –’
‘It won’t,’ he assured her. ‘Unless we find you’ve cheated us in some way.’
Frustration was roiling around inside her, making her want to rant and rage and tear at his face, but fear held her back.
‘Tell Elliot Russell,’ he said, getting to his feet, ‘that he’s doing himself no favours going down the road he’s on.’
‘Why don’t you tell him yourself?’ she spat. ‘Or is it only women you terrorize?’
His smile was chilling as he said, ‘Let me assure you, Laurie, you have no exclusivity on our attention.’ And slipping the tape and notebook into his pocket he turned and walked off down the carriage.
The instant he’d vanished she speed-dialled her father. ‘Dad? Are you OK?’ she demanded breathlessly. ‘Is he gone?’
‘Mum’s just seeing him out. Are you all right? You sound flustered.’
‘No. I’m fine. I’m fine. I just don’t like the idea of people coming to bother you, when they should be coming straight to me.’
‘Yes, well, I must say I found it a bit odd, but I expect they didn’t realize you’re not living at home any more. So you’ve given them what they wanted?’
‘I have. Did he say anything else? He didn’t threaten you or anything, did he?’
‘No, of course not. He’s a policeman, Laurie. Policemen don’t go into people’s homes and start threatening them for no reason.’
‘No. No. You’re right,’ she said, forcing herself to calm down. ‘I’m just … Well, maybe I should come home, make sure you’re all right.’
‘What on earth for? I told you, we’re fine. Just you avoid getting on the wrong side of the law again. It never pays.’
‘OK. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you involved. It was such a little thing.’
‘Obviously not to them. So next time, let them be the judge and spare yourself this kind of upset. Mum’s back now, do you want to say hello?’
After a quick, reassuring exchange with her mother, she rang off and called Elliot.
‘What time’s the train due in?’ he asked, when she’d finished telling him what had happened.
‘Five forty.’
‘I’ll be at the station to meet you.’
When she got there, right on time, he was waiting at the end of the platform.
‘Are you all right?’ he said, as she reached him.
Feeling the way she did, she wished she could just throw herself into his arms. ‘Yes. I’m fine,’ she said, tears suddenly welling up in her eyes and choking her voice. ‘Sorry, I’m not crying really. It’s just a reflex action. It’s because it was my parents.’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Are you sure they’re all right?’
‘They said they were. I think I should go and make certain.’
‘Leave it for a day or two,’ he advised. ‘You’ll only worry them if you go rushing over there now. Stan’s dispatched one of his colleagues to watch the place for a while.’ He was looking around the crowded station. ‘Did you see him get off the train?’
Looking around too, she shook her head.
His eyes were waiting for hers as she turned back, making her have to fight another longing for his embrace.
‘Do you think it was a genuine policeman who went to see them?’ she asked, as he took her arm and began steering her through the crowd.
‘Certainly I know Cormand’s name,’ he answered. ‘And technically speaking they’re right, it could be said that you were
withholding information.’
Her head came up in surprise. ‘Whose side are you on?’ she demanded.
Laughing he opened the car door and waited for her to get in.
‘God, I hate it that someone can do that,’ she seethed as he started the engine, ‘and on a train of all places. I felt so … powerless!’
‘You did the right thing handing the tape over,’ he assured her. ‘You presumably remember what was on it?’
‘Yes, I do,’ she answered, her heart sinking like lead. ‘That’s the worst part of it. It wasn’t one of my tapes, it was Georgie Cottle’s, with a phone message from Beth Ashby outright admitting, even threatening, to go public with what she knows about Gatling if he doesn’t leave her alone.’
Elliot’s alarm showed. ‘Did she say what it was?’ he asked.
‘No.’
‘Then that could be a problem.’
‘Don’t, I feel terrible enough,’ she groaned. ‘Absolutely dreadful in fact.’
‘But you didn’t have a choice,’ he reminded her forcefully. ‘There’s no knowing how far they’re prepared to go with this, and there’s no point running the risk of your father’s health to find out.’
As the absolute dread of that prospect shuddered through her she fell silent, for she didn’t want even to think about it, never mind discuss it. ‘I shouldn’t have gone without Stan,’ she mumbled after a while.
‘Yes, why did you?’ he challenged.
Her eyes slid sideways towards the passing traffic. Should she tell him it was to prove to herself that she wasn’t afraid to go somewhere alone? But no, she couldn’t, because if he knew how badly this was all getting to her he’d make her give it up and that was the last thing she wanted.
Fortunately his phone rang then, and by the time he finished the call he seemed to have forgotten the question.
‘You know, I don’t think I’m feeling up to The Grapes tonight,’ she said pressing her fingers to her temples.
‘That’s good, because it’s not where we’re going.’
She turned to him in surprise.
‘There’s a new place, just opened near the Opera House,’ he said. ‘I thought we’d go there instead.’
‘What do you mean? Is everyone going?’