Silent Truths

by Susan Lewis

  ‘After?’ Beth repeated. ‘What did I do? I knew Colin would be arriving any minute, so I got dressed in a hurry, went down to my car and drove back to Fulham, stopping on the way to buy some paper for my printer. Then when I got home I began psyching myself into believing Colin had done it, that I had been at my desk in the study the entire time, except when I went to get paper. I’d never told anyone about Sophie, or Jessica and Heather, not even Georgie. So I worked at convincing myself that I really never had known anything about them, and when you came along to tell me he’d been arrested, that was when I got my first practice of lying even to myself. But it was a terrible shock, you coming like that. I hadn’t expected to be told that way. I even wondered if you were another of his mistresses, or if you were a policewoman come to tell me he’d been in an accident. I thought it had all gone horribly wrong, that for some reason he hadn’t turned up there. Then the others started arriving, and you pushed me inside and told me. It had all gone to plan. Even better than I’d planned, because I had no idea he’d take his trousers off as soon as he got into the flat. He told me after that it’s a game they played. He’d never done that with me. I wish he had. I wish he’d done everything with me, then none of this would have happened.’

  She tried to smile through her tears, but her lips twisted and she choked on another breath. ‘I need some more water,’ she spluttered. ‘Would you like some?’

  Laurie nodded and handed over her glass. As soon as Beth had disappeared she crossed swiftly to the front door and tried to open it. It wouldn’t budge. Trying not to panic she hunted the nearby pots and drawers for keys. Nothing. She looked for a sign of another way out. Only doors to bedrooms or cupboards.

  Hearing her moving around in a nearby room, she went back to the fireplace and tried to look interested in the Polaroids that were propped amongst the various candlesticks and books. They were mostly scenes from parties that appeared to have taken place in this house, though there were a couple of Beth alone, one of them topless, with three words written underneath: Great New Boobs. She looked so happy, and carefree and beautiful, it was hard to connect her with the woman who’d just been confessing to the utter devastation of her life.

  ‘Mementoes of some good times,’ Beth said behind her. ‘I expect you have those too.’

  Laurie turned round, smiling. Then her eyes dilated as cold terror wrenched at her heart. ‘Oh God, Beth, no,’ she murmured, taking a step back.

  ‘Theo gave me this to protect myself,’ she said, looking down at the gun. In her other hand was a notepad and pen. ‘So that’s what I’m doing,’ she said. ‘I’d already planned to before you came. I was getting ready. Cleaning everything up. Making it all nice. I was going to have a shower and wash my hair too, so that when they came I’d look my best. Of course, I’d be dead, and there would be blood, but …’ Her eyes and voice drifted for a moment. Then, returning to Laurie, she said, ‘I’ve left notes for everyone. I thought probably you’d like to leave some too.’ She held out the notepad and pen.

  Laurie’s head was pounding, her heart racing with fear. ‘What for?’ she said, the horror of understanding making her dizzy.

  ‘It’s a funny thing,’ Beth said, not appearing to have heard the question, ‘but as I was talking to you I realized that even though I’ve told them I killed Sophie Long, there’s nothing they can do, is there? Or nothing they’d want to do. I’m no longer a threat, of no interest to them at all. And you’re the only other one who knows.’

  ‘Beth, please, I swear I won’t tell –’

  ‘Ah, but we both know you will,’ she interrupted. ‘It’s too good a story to pass up, and I don’t blame you for wanting it. But you see, if you tell anyone they’ll let Colin go free, and he doesn’t deserve that.’

  ‘Beth, please,’ Laurie begged, ‘you don’t know what you’re saying …’

  ‘I want him to stay in prison,’ she continued, ‘and he will if there’s no one here to tell what really happened. He doesn’t even know himself.’

  ‘Oh God,’ Laurie sobbed, her whole body starting to shake. ‘You can’t mean what you’re saying, Beth. Please, just put the gun down.’

  Beth dropped the notepad and pen on to the sofa. ‘I’ll give you time to write,’ she said, using her fingers to wipe away her own tears. ‘I’m sure there are people you want to say goodbye to.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Laurie sobbed. ‘Please, Beth. It’s my parents. It’ll kill them if you do this. My sister, I told you, she took her own life … I can’t put them through it again. Please, I beg you, put the gun down.’

  ‘My parents won’t care,’ she responded, the words fractured by her own sobs. ‘You’re lucky to have parents who do. Are you married?’

  ‘No,’ she answered, thinking of Elliot. Oh God, how desperately she wanted to run to him now, to feel the safety of his arms. If anything happened she knew he’d blame himself, but it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t wanted her to come.

  ‘Do you have any children?’ Beth asked.

  ‘No.’

  Beth’s voice was submerged in a terrible sadness as she said, ‘I had two, but they didn’t stay with me either.’

  Suddenly thinking of the book Laurie cried, ‘You wrote a happy ending. It all worked out, so why are you doing this?’

  Beth blinked in surprise. ‘This isn’t fiction,’ she replied. ‘I could only control him in fiction. In reality, he doesn’t want me.’

  ‘But it has nothing to do with me,’ Laurie gasped. ‘I’m really sorry for you, truly I am, and I wish things had been better –’

  ‘I know you do,’ Beth cut in, ‘and they will be, once I leave here. They’ll be better for you too. Just think, your sister will be there. So you already have someone.’ She gestured to the notepad. ‘You can say what you like. Blame it on me, because it won’t be a lie. Just don’t tell them about Sophie. I’ll check. After.’

  After she was dead! Oh God, she had to make herself think. She had somehow to grab the gun, get out of the house, or at least alert Stan. Her chest hurt she was so afraid, her limbs were like lead. She had to distract her, overpower her, do something to save herself.

  She edged forward, as though to pick up the pen. She wanted desperately to run, but knew if she did Beth would fire.

  ‘You see, this is what I mean about being the other side of the law,’ Beth said. ‘Things don’t mean the same any more.’

  Laurie was reaching for the pen, hardly knowing what she was doing. It was mere reflex that suddenly made her gasp and spin her head towards the door, as though someone had come in.

  Beth spun round too.

  Laurie threw herself at the sofa and shoved it back with all her might.

  Beth cried out in surprise as the sofa hit her, but though she staggered against the wall she didn’t let go of the gun.

  Laurie stared at her in horror. Beth stared back. Then, righting herself, she lifted the gun and cocked it ready to fire.

  Max Erwin swerved hard round the bend, righted the car, then sped along Mulholland Drive. Stan’s Camry came into view. Erwin hit the brakes, and screeched to a stop. Elliot was already jumping out.

  Stan was opening his door as Elliot ran up.

  ‘Is she still in there?’ Elliot demanded, his face taut with fear.

  ‘Yeah. What’s happened? Why are you here?’

  ‘Is anyone else in there?’ Elliot said, looking back at the house.

  ‘Just Beth Ashby, as far I know.’

  Max Erwin joined them. ‘Do we knock, or try to find another way in?’ he said.

  Elliot was already starting down the drive. ‘Let’s try the windows first,’ he answered, ‘try to see what’s going on.’

  Stan was right behind them. Erwin went to press an ear against the front door, as Elliot checked the first window. Stan was about to try the next when a gunshot suddenly reverberated through the house.

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ Erwin muttered, his eyes showing horror as he turned to Elliot.

  Ashen-
faced, Elliot ran past him, yelling, ‘Laurie! Laurie, open the door!’ He hammered frantically, but no one responded.

  Behind them a car pulled in to the drive, a black Lexus with tinted windows and personalized plates. It was difficult to make out anyone inside, but as it reversed at speed, then tore off down the road, Erwin hissed, ‘Shit! That was Croner, Kleinstein’s man.’

  As Elliot looked at him the gun went off again. ‘Laurie!’ he roared, hammering violently on the door. ‘For Christ’s sake, let me in.’

  There was the sound of smashing glass.

  ‘Here, this way,’ Stan yelled, punching out the rest of the window. ‘She’s in here.’ He heaved himself up on to the ledge and was about to go through, when he suddenly froze. ‘Oh my God, no,’ he choked, putting out a hand. ‘Stop. Stay right where you are. You don’t want to go in there.’

  But Elliot was already grabbing his legs and, tearing him down from the sill, he vaulted up there himself. ‘Oh no,’ he groaned when he saw inside. ‘Oh God, Laurie no!’

  Chapter 28

  A GAUZY, WHITE marine layer was rolling in from the Pacific as the plane rose up from the ground, leaving LAX and vanishing into a covering bank of cloud. The ocean below was a marauding swell of white-topped waves; the beaches were deserted.

  After the drinks were served and the plane was well established on its southbound journey, Elliot got up from his seat and moved forward three rows to sit beside Max Erwin. For the past week both men had been dealing with so many detectives, phone calls, and emails that neither had managed much sleep, nor did they anticipate any if they remained in LA now that so much press attention was focused their way. Besides, Erwin was in a highly vulnerable position after Kleinstein’s man, Croner, had seen him outside Beth’s house with Elliot. So now they were headed to the relative seclusion and safety of a Mexican fishing village, just north of Puerto Vallarta, where Max Erwin kept a villa that no one knew anything about. Once there they intended to spend four solid days wrapping up the first of many stories featuring the syndicate, primarily exposing its existence, its major players and its strategy regarding the euro. The follow-up stories were being prepared by other reporters, working around the globe, and were being timed to hit the stands, or the airwaves, just as the shock of the previous story was starting to fade.

  Of course, by now the entire syndicate knew they were about to be exposed, so it was anyone’s guess what measures were being taken to downplay, or even negate their roles. Meanwhile, markets were responding in unnervingly erratic ways, and several unexpected resignations from major corporations were daily making headlines. Elliot’s team, having gained confirmation of Gatling’s visit to Sophie Long’s apartment, had sold that story to the Independent, while Leonora’s sudden collapse and prescribed need for rest had been run by the Mail. The biggest shock so far had come with the resignation of the head of the European Central Bank, who’d held a press conference in Brussels announcing that ill health was the major factor in his decision to step down. It was all no more than the spouting of hot air before the real volcano erupted.

  Now, as Elliot and Erwin finished their meals and ordered more coffee, they continued discussing the structure and intent of the syndicate, going over everything in the minutest detail, scrolling up and down the screens of their laptops, checking that each piece of the puzzle was either in place, or ready to go in once it had been vetted for accuracy, and cleared by lawyers. The task was painstaking and complicated to the extreme, and required the kind of concentration that made their heads spin. However, thanks to the back-up efforts of Maykin’s people in New York, Elliot’s team in London and a selected group of currency experts worldwide, it was finally coming together in a way that was going to shake Europe to its very core.

  Finally, his vision blurred by fatigue, Elliot sat back and glanced at the date on his watch. ‘You know, I reckon there’s a chance we can make it for Thursday,’ he said.

  Erwin nodded agreement. ‘We just need some final feedback from the lawyers, a few more sessions going over it again, and a couple of bullet-proof vests.’

  Elliot’s smile was grim. ‘Publicity is protection,’ he reminded him.

  ‘We like to think,’ Erwin added. ‘But hey, don’t worry, if they do take us out, we’ll go knowing our names have gone down in history.’

  Elliot cast him a look, then, stifling a yawn, closed down his laptop and tucked it into the back of the seat in front. ‘See if you can get some shuteye before we arrive,’ he said, getting up. ‘You need to be in a fit state to drive.’

  Returning to his own seat, he fastened his seat belt and ran a hand over his exhausted, unshaven face. After a while he closed his eyes, but as sleep rose up to claim him, he was suddenly jolted awake by the sharp explosion of a gunshot. It took only seconds for him to realize it had happened in his head, not in reality. Nevertheless, his heart was pounding and a thin film of sweat had broken out on his skin. It had been like this since it had happened, though occasionally he managed some sleep before the nightmare of hearing that gun go off blasted him from a dream into the real world.

  He’d known, even before Stan had thrown a rock through the bedroom window to break them in, what the two shots meant. What he hadn’t been prepared for, though, was the blonde woman sprawled across the bed with half her head missing, and the moment of absolute conviction that he was looking at Laurie. In all his life he’d never forget the wrenching horror that had seared through him then, or the denial that had made him cry out. Within seconds he’d realized it was Beth, but the relief was only fleeting for there had been two shots and there was no sign of Laurie.

  He’d found her on the ground in the sitting room, half hidden by the cushioned seat of a sofa. She wasn’t moving. There was nothing to say she was alive, and dread of what he was going to find when he moved the cushion had made him hold back. In the end, it was Stan who lifted it and, seeing her terrified eyes staring up at them, Elliot threw himself to the ground and grabbed her into his arms. ‘Oh thank God, thank God, thank God,’ he cried, holding her tight. He knew he was crushing her, that he was sobbing like a fool, but he couldn’t let go. She was alive. That was all that mattered – until, realizing she could be injured, he loosened his embrace and drew back to look at her.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ he asked, his eyes dark with fear again.

  She shook her head, still too traumatized to speak.

  He pulled her close and pressed his mouth to her hair. ‘I love you,’ he whispered. ‘I love you so much. If anything had happened to you …’ His voice had been swallowed by the relief of her being alive; of having the chance to tell her that any doubts he might have had were over, even before this. He’d been planning to tell her that night how sorry he was, how much he loved her. ‘Please forgive me,’ he’d choked. ‘Please say you forgive me and I swear I’ll never hurt you again.’

  It was probably because of how certain he’d been she was dead that he was still finding it hard to believe that she wasn’t. He had been so sure that, even now, as she worked quietly beside him on her computer, he had to touch her just to make sure she was there.

  Turning to look at him she smiled and kissed his fingers as they brushed over her lips. ‘OK?’ she asked softly.

  He nodded. He couldn’t speak. Fatigue was making him emotional, and right now it would be easy to believe she was an apparition, for the plane had broken through the cloud, so the sun was casting a radiant glow around her hair, and the lustrous blue of her eyes seemed almost deep enough to fall into. Yet her irrepressible air of chaos made her real, and the memory of how she felt in his arms turned his heart inside out. How could he have tried to keep her shut out when he’d always known he never could.

  ‘How’s it going?’ he asked, nodding towards her computer.

  ‘OK,’ she answered. Then, leaning towards him, she pressed her mouth gently to his.

  He’d kissed and held her a lot since that nightmare day, lying with her on her hotel room bed after long, gruel
ling hours of police interrogation, when she’d had to relive, over and over, why she’d been at Beth’s house, what they’d discussed and what had happened. The sofa cushion she’d seized to protect herself, after shoving Beth back against the wall, had saved her life, there was no question about that, though whether Beth had realized it, no one would ever know. It was pure terror that had made Laurie stay rooted to the floor, even though she’d heard Beth walking away. Then it was shock, and unmitigated horror that had kept her there, for the sound of Beth firing again had invoked such terrible images of Lysette’s final moments that she’d been unable to move. It was only after Elliot had lifted her into his arms, that she’d dared to breathe again, and then awful, animal sounds began coming from her as she tried to catch her breath. They’d clung together then, so hard, and with such relief, that they’d only let go when the police and rescue services arrived.

  In the days that followed, after Laurie had been treated for shock, a swarm of reporters and detectives had flown in from London to talk to them all, but most particularly to her. Then Georgie and Bruce had arrived to take Beth’s body home. That had been the hardest time of all for Laurie, as she’d held Georgie in her arms and cried with her.

  ‘I can’t believe she’s dead,’ Georgie had whispered, her voice cracked with grief. ‘I just can’t make myself accept it. I should have come to get her. I knew she needed me …’

  ‘You can’t blame yourself,’ Laurie told her. ‘She wouldn’t want that.’

  ‘I know. But she only really had me.’

  Laurie pulled her back into an embrace as they cried some more. ‘Have you spoken to Colin?’ she asked after a while.

  ‘No. Bruce has. They should be releasing him some time next week.’