A Fitting Revenge

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A Fitting Revenge Page 19

by CA Sole


  ‘That must have been Harry before he phoned me. He said his key didn’t fit,’ I said.

  Juliet carried on, ‘Then I heard crackling and it began to feel warmer. At first I was glad, then I realised there was a fire outside and the temperature went higher and higher until I was sweating.’ She began to cry, ‘Sorry, I’m being a real baby.’

  I gripped her hand a little tighter and whispered, ‘You’re no baby. You’re in shock. You’ve had an awful time, and that must have been terrifying. It was an oven.’

  She nodded and sniffed hard. The policewoman stepped forward and handed her the box of tissues from the bedside table. ‘Thanks,’ Juliet smiled weakly at her and carried on, ‘It was getting incredibly hot, and I was really scared. At that stage I thought I was going to die. I hoped I would pass out before I was burned. Then I heard clanging outside and Alastair broke in, followed shortly by Wiggins. I was still taped up and could only show Alastair with my eyes that there was someone behind him. It was a terrible fight. I could only watch, I was helpless.’ She stopped talking suddenly, then, ‘You know the rest.’

  ‘Thank you for helping us with so much detail,’ said Carter, ‘if you think of anything else, I know you’ll get hold of me. Oh, do you think you’d recognise the woman at the bottom of the stairs from her voice if you heard it again? Just a thought, it would never stand up in court.’

  ‘I don’t think so, not if she spoke normally. Then, she was venomous, it was harsh and horrible. She couldn’t talk like that in normal conversation.’

  Carter got up to go. As he ushered his constable out of the door, he turned, ‘I got a warrant to search the Wiggins' house. I’m conscious of the very large ransom that’s still not found, but there was nothing there.’

  ‘Thanks. But what about Sandra’s flat and Giles' house?’

  ‘They’ll be starting that search in about ...’ He glanced at his watch, ‘ten minutes time. I’ll let you know how it goes, one way or another.’

  A nurse came in and said brightly, ‘Mr Forbes, you have a perfectly acceptable carbon monoxide count, so there’s no need to keep you in overnight. Miss Meredith, your CO count is also low and you should be able to go home tomorrow, but we’ll see if you’re fit enough in the morning.’

  Juliet said she was fit enough go home right there and then, but would rather sleep.

  ‘I’ll come back tomorrow and fetch you,’ I said.

  ‘Please bring my bag with you, I’ll need fresh clothes,’ she answered wearily, then, ‘How are we going to find the cash?’ She had said “we”; that was hopeful.

  ‘Well, the police will search the house and flat. If they don’t find anything, and I bet they don’t, then I’ll have to try myself. I reckon Mandy has it, and ...’ Suddenly I recalled the dinner conversation a long three weeks ago. ‘The Wiggins have a portable home in a caravan park in Swanage. All I have to do is find it. I’ll start tomorrow after you’re released, but I’m not going to wait until Carter tells me that they didn’t find anything. Sandra’s too clever, she’ll have anticipated a search, and it won’t be where they’ll look. Tonight I’ll find out what caravan parks there are, do a bit of planning and take a trip down there tomorrow.’

  Juliet’s eyes were drooping, she was fighting to stay awake. I took her hand again and gave it a last squeeze before turning away, but she held my grip and smiled gently for the first time in days, ‘Thank you Alastair, thank you.’ And promptly fell asleep.

  The hospital corridor, like any other, was clean and shiny, and reflected the light from the window at the far end. My shoes squeaked on the surface as I made my way to the single ward where they were holding Wiggins. ‘You can’t go in there, sir.’ A very large constable was seated on a hard upright chair outside Wiggins's room and was already looking uncomfortable.

  ‘Please,’ I asked, ‘That man kidnapped and tried to kill my girlfriend, he also tried to kill my friend. I need to see him. You can come in with me and make sure I don’t take revenge. I’m sure Chief Inspector Carter would allow it, because he knows I’m not stupid enough to attack a man in front of a policeman.’

  He looked unhappy about that, ‘I’ve orders, sir.’

  ‘I won’t be more than a minute with you right beside me. I just want to look him in the eye. Please?’

  He did not reply immediately, deliberating on the risk he would be taking. Eventually, he opened the door and went in first. I followed and saw Wiggins turning his head with some effort. His eyes registered my presence, and I thought, hoped, I saw alarm in them. His right arm was bandaged and the fingers splinted, his jaw was bandaged shut and what was visible of his face was puffy and swollen. He was breathing painfully because of broken ribs and his left arm was also bandaged, from burns I was told. He was in a sorry state and wasn’t going anywhere for a while, but his narrow eyes followed me across the room.

  I walked up to the bed with the constable right beside me, nervous as to my intentions. ‘That’s close enough, sir.’

  I stared down at Wiggins with contempt. He responded with hate. I didn’t speak, but put my hand out to his jaw, staring him down. His eyes widened in panic. The officer reached out quickly and gripped my wrist. ‘Time to go, sir,’ he said firmly and twisted my arm away.

  ‘It’s all right,’ I said to him as we moved to the door, but loud enough for Wiggins to hear, ‘I wasn’t going to do anything, I just wanted to see his fear.’ Then in a lesser volume, as we went out, ‘I won’t tell the Inspector you let me in. Thank you.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Juliet was ready and eager to leave when I arrived at the hospital to collect her, armed with her bag of clothes. She chose another pair of jeans and a navy polo shirt. Her eyes were still bloodshot, and the bruise on the right one had gone darker overnight and would be there for a while, yellowing gradually.

  ‘You don’t look so pretty this morning,’ I teased, hoping to introduce a bit of levity, because I wasn’t sure of her mood after everything that had happened.

  ‘Thanks, that helps.’

  Her sarcasm had no humour, and my hopes of a better relationship dimmed, but I couldn’t resist retorting, ‘Pleasure. The problem is mine though, I’m going to have to counter accusations that I beat you.’

  Without rancour, she replied, ‘It’s what you deserve, and I won’t deny it!’ I wasn’t sure if there was comic relief in that, or not. I held out her boots, off which I had cleaned a fair bit of mud out of respect for the hospital. She noticed, took them from me and said, ‘Thanks.’

  About halfway back to the farm, Juliet announced, ‘Alastair, I’m going to help you find your money. I’ll come with you to Swanage, but if it isn’t there and there are no clues as to where it really is, then I don’t see how we’re going to find it.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ I replied. ‘You’ve had a hell of a time and should rest. I can manage on my own.’

  ‘I’m acutely aware that if you don’t find the cash then you’ll probably be bankrupt. You put up everything you have and took extreme risks to rescue me, so the very least I can do is help you find it.’

  In another life, so long ago it seemed, we had always made joint decisions and each had respected the other’s point of view if it proved to be the better option. Juliet was not doing that now, she was asserting herself. It was her decision to help, and she wasn’t asking for my opinion. I didn’t argue, I didn’t wish to argue with her about anything. In any case, I wanted to prolong contact with her in the hope she would come to trust me again.

  ‘If we reach a dead end today, then I must go back to Mary’s. You won’t need me to help you here, it will all be up to the police, and there’s so much I have to do at home.’

  Again, I couldn’t argue, but that awful feeling of loss was creeping in again. More positively though, I knew it was an opportunity for Mary to support my case.

  To dispel my feelings, I asked, ‘Jules, in past few days before you were kidnapped, you were becoming quite antagonistic towa
rds me. I don’t expect our relations to get better suddenly, but they were getting worse for no apparent reason. It wasn’t as if I’d become a worse person than before, quite the contrary. I’ve been trying really hard to support you while maintaining the distance you need. So your increasing dislike has to be coming from within you. Please stop it. I’m not claiming any points for saving you from the fire. I don’t need you to help me as a reward for that. I’d rather you returned to your normal feisty, fun loving self. So, if you’re going to help me now and we’re going to be together all day, it would really make life more pleasant if we worked on more amicable terms.’ I told her that both she and Giles were my most trusted friends, and that was not something that I would ever relinquish. She might not wish to be my lover ever again, but I would always be ready to stand by her whenever she needed. I said she should respect that and try not to treat me as a pariah.

  While talking, I took the odd glance across the car and saw her looking intently at me with an expression I could not read. When I finished, I looked across again and she nodded before turning away to her side window. It was an acknowledgement signifying, ‘I hear what you’re saying’, but not of compliance. Still facing away from me, she eventually answered quietly, ‘I don’t dislike you Alastair, you ought to know that. It’s just that right now I don’t want to be here, I want to be with my sister.’

  The trip down to Swanage was longer than it should have been at two and a half hours, due mainly to roadworks. On the way I told Juliet what I was going to do about Sandra, but limited it to retrieving the money because she would argue with me, and I wasn’t going to be diverted from the plans I’d made. ‘So on the way back we’re going to shop for the gear I need. If you’re up to it, that is.’

  She did not speak much during the trip, but the atmosphere was less tense than before. Her moods had swung from antagonistic before her kidnap, to friendly in hospital, then less so that morning, and while we drove she was more withdrawn than anything else. I put it down to the stress and trauma she’d been through and tried to be cheerful.

  The previous evening I had found nine caravan and camping parks in Swanage of which four were for park homes or caravans only. I noted the addresses, leaving out the field camp sites, and drew up a logical order in which to visit them.

  We had no luck at the first two, but at Fossil End Holiday Homes the receptionist was a rather slow, past-middle-aged, lady with caked make up trying to hide the wrinkles. She said her name was Muriel and confirmed that the Wiggins family did have a caravan on the site.

  ‘Is Mandy, Mrs Wiggins, here at the moment?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she answered, her voice as crusty as the roll she was eating. There was a crumb sticking to the left side of her mouth, and I was tempted to point this out by touching my own face with a finger, but didn’t want to alienate her, nor did I want to witness her make up flaking off if she scratched for the crumb, so suppressed the concept. ‘She came in yesterday,’ Muriel added, ‘but went out again this morning. I didn’t see her come back. She might have done, mind, I don’t see everything.’

  ‘That’s odd,’ Juliet said, ‘We were due to meet her at twelve thirty for lunch, and she said to come anytime as she wasn’t going out. Maybe she went to get some things to eat.’ She smiled sweetly at Muriel and asked, ‘Do you think we could go and wait at their site, please? I’m sure she won’t be long now.’

  ‘Have you been in an accident, dear?’ Muriel asked kindly, but looked suspiciously at me.

  ‘Yes, I have actually, yesterday on the M4. I still feel a bit shaken up, but there’s nothing seriously wrong with me. Umm ... may we go there? I’ll call her and see where she is.’

  ‘Of course dear. Number 74, just follow the road around to the left. The numbers are signed.’

  Number 74 was on the left side against the hedge with a good view over the bay since the site was on the hillside above the town. No car was outside, in fact there was little activity in Fossil End generally, probably because it was not yet school holidays. The Wiggins' caravan was an old, plain, road type, while most in the park were fixed homes. It was a large model with a tax disc dated in 1998 and had more than likely been there ever since. The grass was thick around the legs and wheels, while underneath was bare earth. It had faded with time and there were patches of green algae in places. They probably cleaned it every time they came here on their holidays. It was going to be very green indeed before Tony Wiggins would next have a chance to scrub it.

  Juliet stood back as I knocked on the door just to be sure Mandy wasn’t inside. She wasn’t. I went round to the rear of the caravan against the hedge and away from the road. The large back window was held in place by a rubber seal, like a car windscreen, but I knew from researching the internet that such old type seals were probably stapled in place and could not be pushed or prised out without damaging the surrounding shell. Thank goodness I had done the tedious research, because finding out how caravan windows could be replaced had helped me compile a set of tools that would be needed.

  After a lot of muttered swearing and hard work, I had cut the seal round the bottom and two sides, and was able to prise the pane loose with a screwdriver. Juliet came to help support it, and we lowered it gently to the ground.

  I pulled myself up and through the window onto a double bed. Juliet had another look around outside then followed me through the gap without my help. There was a musty, stale bedroom smell inside, but the interior was clean and tidy. We had no idea when it was built, but the cupboards and fittings were from a previous age, sixties or seventies maybe.

  ‘You start there,’ I said, ‘and I’ll start at the other end. The money was in a blue and black holdall with “Sikorsky” emblazoned on the side. There’s a little winged thingy as a logo as well.’

  We didn’t find the holdall, but opened every cupboard and possible hiding place, anywhere we could get access. We worked towards each other, and I was beginning to lose hope when I reached Juliet who was struggling with a drawer. Just as I was going to yank it open for her, the drawer front came off in her hand. ‘Odd,’ she muttered, feeling around, ‘there isn’t a drawer here, but there’s something.’ She worked and tugged and pulled out a cardboard box that was wedged between the framework. Excited, she ripped open the top flaps. ‘Yay!’ she exclaimed. The box was packed tight with cash, but it wasn’t anywhere near one and a half million.

  ‘At least that proves we’re on the right track. Have we covered everywhere?’

  ‘I’ve done everything to here,’ she indicated, ‘including the other side, every crevice.’

  ‘Me too, let’s get out of here. We can count that later. It’s not all of it by any means, but it looks a lot. We’ll get the window back in and then look underneath this crate.’

  We scrambled out and together lifted the pane back into place. I pushed it firmly until it was seated, then took some silicon sealant and stuck the rubber window seal back where it had been. It wouldn’t pass close inspection, but from a distance it was not obvious that it had been removed. Juliet was crawling around underneath and excitedly called out, ‘There’s wads here! It’s tucked into the chassis members all the way along.’ There was a grunt, ‘On both sides!’ She threw out bundles of notes wrapped in shopping bags, then crawled forward to retrieve more before worming her way out from under the vehicle. I brushed her down to get the worst of the soil and debris off her. ‘This calls for a celebration,’ she said, laughing with me for the first time.

  We stopped at reception for Juliet to tell Muriel that Mandy wasn’t going to come back as something had turned up. It was early afternoon and we still had to buy the kit I needed for my Witch Plot, as Juliet called it.

  Our route home was via one outdoor and two diving shops. I found myself a summer wet suit in Bournemouth, Juliet bought me some wet suit boots in Christchurch, and I bought a neoprene hood in an outdoor shop in Southampton. I didn’t get gloves because I already had a pair of black leather ones thin
enough to provide a good touch yet tough enough for what I wanted. We considered using the cash from the caravan to avoid using a traceable credit card, but then remembered that the money might have been marked somehow. It was a matter of choosing the least risky option. A credit card would provide an investigator with a direct link to either of us, but the cash could have reached the shops through any number of hands. We decided on the cash, thinking it would take a lot of police work to draw any conclusions from that trail of purchases by different people. There was still more to buy though, but I couldn’t tell Juliet about that just yet.

  We were both impatient to get back to the farm. Juliet because she was dog tired and I because I’d just had enough of the day and felt like a drink. On the way, she started to count the money, but gave up because there wasn’t enough space to separate the notes she had already counted. ‘I don’t really know, but if these are all the same, then from what I’ve done there must be around two hundred and fifty thousand here! Oooh! I’ve such a headache.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. You need to rest and mend. It’s been a long day for you. I’m going to tell Carter what we’ve found.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I’ve always, well almost always, been honest with him. It’ll come out at some stage that we found some of the money, and I don’t want him accusing me of hampering his investigation.’

  When I spoke to him, Carter asked me about the caravan because he hadn’t known of it. He said I should let him keep the money, because they would need to use it as evidence and it might have clues. I said I’d drop it off in the morning. He said he’d send an officer round to collect it immediately.

 

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