by Susan Lewis
‘Hello,’ she said, pulling out the chair opposite him and sitting down.
He lifted his head and her heart gave an unsteady beat of shock, for the deterioration of his appearance was so marked she could almost be staring at the ghost of the man she’d met before. Nothing Bruce had said had prepared her for the shadowy, sunken eyes that were watching her now, languid and dull, red-rimmed and conveying such gloom it was as though there was no light in him at all.
Realizing it wouldn’t be appropriate to ask how he was, she glanced briefly at the couple next to them, who seemed interested only in each other. Then, pulling her chair in closer, she said, ‘I have some news.’
For a while, as she updated him on their investigation into the syndicate and its run on the euro, then told him about her visit to Sophie Long’s neighbour, he seemed to scrutinize her face, but then his eyes fell away, and by the time she’d finished she wasn’t entirely sure if he’d actually registered the fact that Marcus Gatling might have been at Sophie’s flat only an hour before he had.
‘Are you OK?’ she asked, lowering her head to peer into his thin, haggard face.
When he raised his eyes they seemed almost desolate, and not entirely connected to his surroundings. ‘How did you get on with the contacts I gave you?’ he said.
‘I’m afraid they wouldn’t speak to me,’ she told him.
As though expecting the answer he said, ‘Then you’ve done well to get as far as you have.’
His eyes drifted for a moment, then, realizing he was looking at someone across the room, she turned to see who it was. An attractive, well-groomed woman in her late thirties appeared to be watching them, but as Laurie turned round she returned her attention to the man she was visiting. Surprised, Laurie looked at Colin, but he was staring vacantly in another direction.
‘You know, even if Marcus was there,’ he said, ‘he wouldn’t have done it. That’s not his style.’
‘But the very fact he was there, if it was him, means something,’ she reminded him.
He nodded. Then bringing his gaze to hers, ‘How’s Beth?’
Going with the change of subject again, she said, ‘I hear she’s getting better.’
His expression remained solemn, almost morose. ‘I don’t hear from Heather any more,’ he said. ‘Maybe she’s writing and they’re not passing the letters on.’
‘Elliot had an email from her. After what happened to Beth, I think, for Jessica’s sake she needs to distance herself for a while.’
‘Of course. She has to put Jessica first.’
His depression and resignation to what was happening to him were in such contrast to the energetic and charismatic man he’d once been, that Laurie could only wonder why Bruce and Giles hadn’t managed to get him transferred from here by now. She looked down at his bony fingers, linked loosely on the table, only inches from her own, and on impulse covered them, as though trying to squeeze in some life and affection. For a moment it seemed to work as he nodded and attempted a smile. Then she sensed him retreat back into himself again.
‘Colin?’ she said softly.
He looked up, a vaguely quizzical expression in his eyes as though surprised someone knew his name.
‘Why did you want me to come today?’
‘I wanted to know about Beth,’ he answered. ‘It’s my fault, all that’s happening to her. Bruce tells me how she is, but I thought maybe you might know more.’
She kept her eyes and hands on his. Clearly, despite wanting to divorce her, he still cared about his wife a great deal. ‘We only know as much as you do,’ she said.
‘Have you seen her?’
‘Only pictures, of what they did.’
His eyes dropped for a moment. ‘Do you know what she told them?’
‘No. It’s one of the things we’re trying to find out. Do you know what she might have told them? Could it have been anything that might help get you out of here?’
His sigh was dismal, his expression falling into despair, as he said, ‘Believe me, if she knew something that would put them here instead of me, she wouldn’t keep it to herself.’ Then, sliding his hands out from under hers, he started rubbing his face.
She waited, noticing the frayed cuffs of his shirt, and jaundiced pallor of his skin. Finally he said, ‘She should know better than to mess with Gatling. She taunted him, on the plane, Bruce told me about that …’ Then, looking into her eyes, he said, ‘I hear some producer’s taking care of her now.’
‘Theo Kennedy,’ she confirmed.
It was a while before he spoke again, saying, ‘So Marcus and Leonora were at the flat before me.’
She watched him, wondering what he really thought about his wife being looked after by another man, why he’d just let the subject go, and returned to the Gatlings as though they’d never stopped discussing them. ‘Like I said, I only found out this morning,’ she answered.
‘Have you told anyone else yet?’
‘Only Elliot. We still don’t know for certain it was them,’ she added, hating the idea of getting his hopes up only for them to be dashed again if it turned out the couple the neighbour had seen had already been identified as someone completely different. ‘Was it likely to be them?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know. Maybe Marcus was seeing Sophie the same way I was.’
‘But his wife was there too,’ she reminded him.
He shrugged. ‘They have their own kind of marriage.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘That they don’t do much without the other knowing about it. It helps eliminate the risk of blackmail.’
‘So you think Gatling was one of Sophie’s clients?’
‘It’s possible. I don’t think he killed her, though.’
‘What about his wife? Could she have done it?’
His laugh was mirthless. ‘Leonora would do anything if it was in the best interests of Leonora,’ he responded.
‘So how would killing Sophie Long be in her interests?’
‘I’m afraid that’s a question you’ll have to ask her.’
Though her overriding feeling was compassion for someone so broken, Laurie forced herself to put it aside and remember who this seemingly hollow wreck of a man really was, how expertly he had manipulated interviews in the past, and wondered if in some bizarre Machiavellian way he was drawing on that skill now in order to gain information rather than give it.
‘Did you ever have an affair with Leonora Gatling?’ she asked bluntly.
‘Yes,’ he answered.
‘Did her husband know about it?’
‘Of course.’
‘Could that have had any bearing on what happened to Sophie Long?’
‘Leonora and I stopped sleeping together over ten years ago,’ he answered.
‘That’s neither a yes or a no,’ she pointed out.
‘It was a no,’ he said.
‘Are you certain about that?’
‘As certain as I can be.’
‘Has either of them made any contact with you since you’ve been in here?’
‘Not directly.’
‘But indirectly?’
‘Look at me,’ he said.
Feeling herself flush at the reference to his appearance, she glanced down at her hands.
‘They want me to plead guilty,’ he said. ‘They want this case cut and dried. Over.’
‘Which suggests they’re involved,’ she pointed out.
He didn’t say anything, so, tightening her hold on his hands again, she said, ‘How well does your wife know them?’
‘Not well.’
‘Are you certain about that?’
‘As certain as I can be.’
‘Does Heather Dance know them?’
‘No.’ And before she could ask: ‘As certain as I can be.’
The way his eyes connected with hers, fell away, then connected again was making it impossible to tell whether or not he was lying, and for once her instincts were failing her. ‘When I was last he
re,’ she said, ‘you told me it wasn’t possible for your wife to know anything about the syndicate. I think those were the words you used.’
‘Then maybe what I should have said was that she’d never heard about it from me,’ he responded.
‘So now you think there’s a chance she does know?’
‘They obviously did what they did for a reason,’ he replied.
Her blue eyes were steady on his. ‘And you know that reason, don’t you?’ she challenged.
He didn’t flinch from the gaze, but he didn’t answer either.
‘What was it?’ she demanded. ‘Why did they do that to her?’
‘You know why they did it. To get information.’
‘What information?’
‘I was hoping you’d tell me that,’ he replied. ‘It was why I wanted you to come.’
Covering her exasperation with a deep intake of air, she said, ‘Tell me, do you want to get out of here?’
‘You have to ask?’ he responded.
‘Then I can only wonder why you’re not telling the truth,’ she said. ‘Or is it that the truth will keep you here?’
At that, what little spark she’d drawn earlier seemed to die, and as he almost physically sank back inside himself she could feel herself being torn by equal amounts of frustration and pity.
To Elliot on the phone later she said, ‘I don’t know what’s going on with him. I truly don’t. One minute I’m convinced he didn’t do it, the next I think he’s playing games with me, and then I’ve got no idea what to think.’
‘But at least it wasn’t a waste of time,’ he reminded her. ‘We now know that he had an affair with Leonora, for what it’s worth. That Gatling was probably a client of Sophie’s, which apparently his wife was party to, though, interestingly, it didn’t come out in the police investigation, nor was it mentioned by Brad Pinkton. And we also know that he’s in some way concerned about what Beth might have divulged during her ordeal.’
‘Is there any news on that yet?’ she asked.
‘I spoke to Tom Maykin earlier, nothing then,’ he answered. ‘His contact in LA’s gone to ground for a while, but there’s a chance we might meet up with him over the weekend.’
‘He’s coming here?’
‘No. Change of plan. Jerome and I are going to New York. Liam and Jed are meeting us there.’
‘So when will you be back in London?’
‘Monday. Tuesday at the latest. Rewind to the Gatlings. If it turns out to be them, the mystery of the fibres is probably solved. Actually, even if it’s not them.’
‘Of course.’
‘Not only that,’ he continued, ‘it has to have crossed your mind that maybe this is what Beth Ashby’s hiding. The knowledge that the Gatlings were there.’
‘Yes, it has crossed my mind,’ she said. ‘But how would she know, unless she was there herself, and we know she wasn’t?’
‘That’s a question for Beth Ashby.’
‘OK. Here’s one for you, two actually: let’s suppose she did know the Gatlings were there, and they’ve now managed to beat it out of her, is it likely they’d have let her go? And if she did know, why not tell the police right at the beginning?’
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ he responded. ‘I’ll let you ponder that while I’m in New York. Where are you now?’
‘In the car with Stan, on the way back to the house. Oh, listen, someone’s beeping. I’m hoping it might be Chilton. I’ll call you back.’ Switching lines, she said, ‘Laurie Forbes.’
‘OK,’ Chilton said with no preamble. ‘There are no reports of any unidentified persons coming out of the house at the time in question. Male or female.’
‘What about identified persons?’
‘None of those either.’
‘So Mrs Karowski was the only one who spotted the rotund man with a squashed angry face and good-looking older woman with dark hair worn in a French pleat?’
‘It would seem so. You can’t withhold this evidence, you know?’
‘I’m not intending to. Nor is Mrs Karowski.’
‘So do you have any idea who this couple might be?’
‘I have a theory, yes. And if I’m right, I’m going to be fascinated to see how the police handle it.’
As she rang off Stan was pulling up outside the house, so leaving him in the car with his radio poker – radio poker! – she went inside to shower and change before popping across the road to the pub. By the time she was ready to leave she was back on the phone to Elliot.
‘I keep going over and over this,’ she told him, ‘and no matter how illogical or even impossible it might seem, I can’t help wondering if, in some way, shape or form, Heather Dance is playing a role in this that we haven’t yet fathomed.’
‘I suppose anything’s possible,’ he responded, ‘but I can’t offer you any answers.’
‘And I don’t suppose she’s going to spill it all in response to a polite little email enquiry, is she? Or even to a walloping great threatening one?’
‘We could probably find her again if we put our minds to it,’ he said, ‘but I’d say the better way to go right now is for me to exert some pressure on Tom Maykin this weekend to get his contact either to find out, or reveal, what Beth Ashby said to end her ordeal.’
‘Presuming it is at an end.’
‘Nothing’s happened since.’
‘So why are phrases like “lull before the storm”, and “autumn hiatus” coming to mind?’
‘Funny, but I was just thinking the same thing.’
Chapter 25
‘GEORGIE! IT’S ME!’
‘Beth? How are you?’
Beth smiled and reached across the table for Theo’s hand. ‘I’m great,’ she responded, gazing into his eyes. ‘Theo and I … He’s so wonderful, Georgie. I really want you to meet him.’
Theo lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.
‘Does that mean you’re coming over?’ Georgie asked, sounding hopeful.
‘Not yet. We’re working really hard on trying to get this screenplay together. It’s such a wonderful experience, collaborating like this. He’s so patient and kind and clever …’ She laughed as he bit gently into her hand. ‘I’m learning so much about so many things. I’m starting to understand what sharing and togetherness is really about.’
‘That’s good,’ Georgie responded. ‘I’m happy for you.’
Beth laughed softly. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘But actually, that’s not the real reason for calling. I just wanted you to know the way things are between us. How special he is.’
‘Come to the point,’ Theo chided.
‘OK. Well, Georgie, we’ve had a really good idea. One that could make all the difference to our screenplay and our lives together.’
‘Oh?’ Georgie replied.
Beth’s eyes remained on Theo’s as she related the details of the plan. It was as though she was seeking reassurance, needing to know she was explaining it correctly, wasn’t missing anything out, or giving it the wrong slant. His occasional nod and squeeze of her hand told her she was doing just fine, and by the time she’d finished her heart was warm with the joy of doing this for him – for them both.
At her end Georgie remained silent.
‘So what do you think?’ Beth prompted. ‘It could make all the difference in the world if I do this.’
‘Is Theo there? Can I speak to him?’ Georgie said.
Getting up, Beth went to sit on his lap. ‘She wants to speak to you,’ she told him, but before handing the phone over she kissed him lingeringly on the mouth. ‘Oh, by the way,’ she said down the line to Georgie, ‘he calls me Beth now so you don’t have to worry about the Ava thing.’
At her end Georgie waited as they murmured and laughed some more, then Theo’s voice said, ‘Hey, Georgie. How are you doing?’
‘I’m fine,’ she lied. ‘Is she serious about this?’
‘We’ve discussed it a lot, and she sure seems to be,’ he answered, watching Beth as she
strolled out to the pool, wearing a plain navy swimsuit and low-heeled mules. Her scars, though still horribly noticeable, were healing well, and the way they were getting it together with the script, and their relationship, had to be helping the process.
‘So you’re happy to go along with it?’ Georgie asked.
‘Whatever makes her happy,’ he responded.
‘But she’s doing it for you.’
‘I know. But I think it’s going to be good for her. She wants to do it.’
‘Is she physically up to it?’
‘I think so.’
‘What about mentally?’
‘You just spoke to her. How does she sound to you?’
‘To be frank, I’m not sure. Maybe I need to see her.’
‘She’s doing great,’ he assured her. ‘No drugs. No alcohol, except wine with dinner. No parties. It’s just the two of us, and the nightmares seem to be easing off since we got into this project. It’s giving her something else to focus on.’
Georgie was struggling for more objections, more reasons to say why this wasn’t a good idea. But in the end she had to accept that maybe she was just being overprotective, that if Beth really wanted to do it, then why not let her. After all, Theo could be right, it might help in the end.
‘OK,’ she said finally. ‘I’ll call you back after I’ve spoken to Laurie Forbes.’
Laurie had just finished talking to an extremely helpful reporter from the LA Times, who’d managed to get her Mitzi Bower’s private number, when her phone rang again.
‘This is Laurie,’ she answered chirpily, mimicking the response of the Times reporter.
‘It’s Georgie Cottle. I hope it’s all right to call. Bruce gave me the number of your mobile.’
‘Of course it is,’ Laurie responded warmly. ‘How are you?’
‘Confused,’ Georgie confessed. ‘I’ve just spoken to Beth and she’s come up with an idea that’s stunned me a bit.’
Laurie could hardly contain her eagerness to know more, though her voice was perfectly controlled as she said, ‘What was it?’
‘Well, I don’t see why there should be a problem, if you’re willing to do it her way,’ Georgie said.