by CA Sole
‘What about the money?’
‘Well, because I would want to spend as little time as possible in England in my new clothes, I’d have to have the money with me before I changed.’
‘Fair enough,’ I answered, ‘but where will you pick up the money? There must be several hundred lockers, even thousands within reach of St Pancras.’
‘I know. This thinking doesn’t get us any further forward, does it? It’s so frustrating. And, even worse is that there’s no reason why Sandra Parsons didn’t store the money close to home and travel to London with it.’
‘Parsons, Parsons. I’ve an idea, a flash of genius!’ Excited, I picked up the phone and dialled Carter’s number. ‘Jim, sorry, it’s late I know, but there’s a lead you should consider following. Parsons, Sandra’s last husband, told Giles that he’d met her at a storage facility where she was a manager. She might go back there to leave the money.’
‘Good thinking, leave it with me.’ It sounded as if he was lying down.
‘I’m for bed. Goodnight,’ Juliet announced with slight smile. I think she was content that we were maintaining a more amicable relationship.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
It was after eight when Jim Carter phoned us. He said they had sent an officer to Parson’s house, but he wasn’t at home. The neighbour seemed to think he had gone away for the weekend.
Juliet, the red apron on over her black jeans, had muttered something about making breakfast and was doing things in the kitchen. She had lifted the big cover off one of the Aga hot plates and put a frying pan down alongside it. She turned to me, ‘You know, I can’t forget Mandy laughing at the thought of my being raped by her awful husband. I can’t get that silly giggle of hers out of my head. What’s so funny about a woman being raped, and by your own husband! Some people are twisted.’
The unmistakeable click of a weapon being cocked behind us made me jump. It’s an ominous sound, portending an end to life. I stood very still. Juliet did not recognise the noise, not so the high pitched voice that followed, though. She started and dropped her spatula.
‘You needn’t have worried about that, darling.’ The door of the walk-in pantry had opened silently. Mandy said coarsely, ‘You wanna know why I laughed? Because I knew that my pathetic husband couldn’t ever get it up, and even if he did, it was so fucking soft it would never hurt you.’ She giggled senselessly, then snapped, ‘Where’s my money?’
She must have come in the back door and been hiding in the pantry. Her jeans were tight enough to accentuate the roll of fat round her hips, and an orange T shirt with an indiscernible logo strained to contain her chest. The tattooed tail of a reptile of some sort on her right shoulder snaked below her sleeve line. The gun was a six shot revolver, a .38 at a guess, because the cylinder looked too short to be a .38 Special. Thank goodness, because that would wreak much greater damage. The difference was almost academic, the hammer was back in the firing position, and the weapon quivered from the tension in her hand.
Juliet was by the cooker. I was in the middle of the room, now facing the pantry where Mandy had come in but hardly moved since. About three yards separated us; too far to go to tackle her, and she could hardly miss a shot at that range. Juliet was much closer, about half that distance. Don’t do anything stupid, Jules.
‘Your money?’
‘The money you stole from my caravan, where the fuck is it?’ She was quivering with rage, or was it? She might have been ill or drugged.
‘That isn’t your money, it’s mine, extorted from me by Sandra, you and your husband. If it were your money, obtained honestly, it wouldn’t have been hidden, it would have been in a bank. The police have it because it’s evi....’
‘The police!’ she screamed in frustration. ‘Well, you’re going to get it from them or I’m going to blow her fucking head open!’ She waved the revolver shakily in Juliet’s direction. ‘She stays here, you go and get that money. Now!’ she shouted, advancing. Juliet retreated. The counter stopped her, but she arched back over it, trying to get further away.
‘I can’t walk into a police station and demand to take evidence away. Use your head, Mandy.’
‘Bull!’ She was shouting again and turned the gun on me, ‘It’s your money, you say. They’ve no right to keep it, so go and get it!’
Uncontrolled, my anger flared and I took a step forward, ‘Listen to me you deranged idiot. I’ve had it with you lot: you try to kill my friend, you kill my dog, you kidnap and try to kill my girlfriend, your stupid ineffectual husband tries to kill me on two occasions, you extort one and a half million pounds out of me, lose it, and now you want it back. Sandra plots and directs the operation, stupid Tony does the heavy work and you scurry around like a whipped assistant.’ I paused to draw breath.
She jumped in, furious and red in the face, ‘Sandra, that fucking bitch! She didn’t plan it, I did. I came up with the ideas. Right from the beginning, from when we left school. I told her to use her looks and her body to suck money out of rich men. I found her first husband for her and told her how to turn it ugly and get a divorce. I did the same with your mate. And it was my idea to kidnap your bitch.’ She waved the revolver in Juliet’s direction again. ‘And it was me that told Anthony to fire the barn. And I didn’t only have the ideas, I watched for you at the airport, I followed you to the lane and told Anthony when it was time to kill Justin Giles.’ She sneered his name. ‘All bloody Sandra did was send you a message to meet him where you did. Meantime, she was out shopping, keeping herself well out the way.
‘She thought out some details and did things her way, but it was my plans she was using. Then she cheated me. My ideas, my plan, most of the money should be mine, but she took it off her brother and has hidden it. She left us a fifth. A fifth for me and Anthony, while she walks off with one million, two hundred and fifty k!’ She spat the words out. She was focussed on me, forcing her version of events on me. Why? Did she expect sympathy for her position? Or was she simply letting off steam? There was no way of knowing if she was telling the truth or had talked herself into a leading role that did not really exist. Maybe they had sat down together and the ideas had been a joint effort.
My mobile phone rang and vibrated on the table with a growling noise.
‘Answer it,’ she snapped. ‘No, don’t.’ Ring-ring, grrr-grrr.
‘Suppose whoever’s calling knows we’re here, they’ll think something’s wrong if I don’t answer.’ Ring-ring. With every “grrr-grrr” the phone edged across the table top.
‘Answer it then, but be bloody careful or I’ll kill her.’ Ring-ring, grrr-grrr.
‘What if it’s the police? What do I say?’
The constant ringing was breaking her down. Her face was tense. She was fidgeting and shifting from one foot to the other. I picked up the handset, ‘Hello?’
Carter said, ‘Good morning Alastair, there’s been a report that Mandy Wiggins is heading in your direction. We’ve not been able to confirm that, but assume it’s true. Wiggins had a gun, it was licensed, but it didn’t show up in his house when we searched it. There’s a possibility that his wife has it, and she’s a prime suspect for murder already, as you know.’
‘Really? I didn’t know that.’
He knew that wasn’t true. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘No,’ I said emphatically. More gently I added after a slight pause, ‘No, we haven’t seen her, Chief Inspector.’ I was watching Mandy’s face. It was not difficult to read. She didn’t like this, she wasn’t party to the whole conversation, couldn’t decide what to do to control the situation and probably felt the world was closing in on her. I couldn’t afford to let her get so desperate she would shoot.
‘I get the message,’ he answered ‘I’ll send some men out as soon as possible, we need to protect John Knott and anyone else on your property.’
‘John could be here, but there should be no one else at the moment.’
‘Alastair, none of your heroics or taking the matter i
nto your own hands this time, all right? Cooperate with me and let us handle it. We’ll be on site in about six minutes. Don’t do anything stupid.’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ The kitchen clock showed twenty two minutes past, but there was no way to warn Juliet of Carter’s intentions.
‘What did he want?’ Mandy screamed loudly. God, this woman was unhinged.
‘Only if we’d seen you. You heard me say no.’
Mandy’s jaw muscles were working constantly, her lips tight set. She had a hand on the counter top as if to keep steady, but could not hold the gun still. All it would take would be an unintended nervous reaction for a shot to go off. She seemed to get a grip on herself for a moment though, and decided that she could not manage two of us. ‘You! Tie him up,’ she yelled at Juliet.
‘I’ll try and find something to tie him with,’ Juliet replied with deliberate calm. She must have been forcing herself to stay composed, given what she had been through because of this woman.
‘Rope, get some rope, of course.’
‘Mandy, Juliet doesn’t live here and doesn’t know where everything is, so please be patient. The only rope is outside, but I don’t think you want all of us to go out and find it, do you?’
‘Shut up, you! String, all kitchens have string. Find some.’
‘In the top cupboard on your right,’ I said to Juliet. I could not see any course but to help. To be confrontational would be dangerous.
Juliet found the string, a great ball of it, certainly enough to prevent me breaking the bond. Following Mandy’s orders, I sat down on a kitchen chair which had vertical bars down the back. It was already positioned sideways to the end of the table, which meant there was nothing in front of me. I put my hands behind me, and Juliet tied a loose knot round my right wrist and then wound the string round and round both wrists to hold them together. Mandy was behind me somewhere pointing the gun at Juliet’s head.
‘Tight, make it tight,’ Mandy snapped, ‘if he gets loose I’m going to start shooting.’
Juliet made a pretence of pulling and I forced my wrists apart against the tension. ‘Ow, that hurts, it’s too tight, I’ll lose circulation.’
‘Shut up! Now tie his hands to the chair back.’
Claustrophobia. In me, being restrained leads to panic. If I can’t undo a tight shirt button, I feel trapped. Now, I had a mental battle to get myself under control. I knew that once I had, I’d be all right unless threatened and unable to do something about it. Helping my fight was the knowledge that the bonds were not tight at all once I had brought my wrists together. I worked hard at slipping a hand free without any telltale body movements. Once one hand was out, the other would be easy.
‘You,’ Mandy snapped at Juliet, ‘call that bloody copper.’
‘What do you want me to say?’
‘Tell him that I want the money delivered here and a car full of petrol. I’ll be taking you with me.’
‘That’s original,’ I commented stupidly, because it was confrontational.
‘Shut up, I said!’
Juliet dialled the last number that called. I could just imagine the Chief Inspector’s gruff, “DCI Carter” from the other end. Juliet passed the message, listened then held the phone out to Mandy. ‘He says the money’s in safe deposit, and it will take some time to get it. He wants to talk to you.’
‘Well I don’t want to talk to him, and I’m holding the fucking cards.’
‘It’s probably best you do talk directly, Mandy,’ I said in as even a tone as I could, ‘Misunderstandings often happen when a third party’s involved.’
Surprisingly, she saw the sense in that and accepted the phone, but her gun remained aimed at Juliet. ‘What do you want? Just do as I say and no one will get hurt. I want the money, I want a car full of petrol and you lot off my back.’
I could only imagine Carter’s side of the conversation. He’d be trying to calm her, agreeing to give her the money and everything else she wanted, but explaining that she would never get away, the futility of it all.
Mandy put the phone back down on the table and sank heavily onto the chair next to mine, facing me. She seemed to be a bit more relaxed now something was being done. There was a flicker of movement outside the window, far away down the drive. As if to confirm Carter’s estimate, the clock struck the half hour making her jump. Her eyes widened briefly with alarm. Juliet kept a close watch on the ever pointing gun and pulled out a chair for herself. And so we waited. I was winning the battle to free my left hand and had managed to work some of the windings of string off the end of my fingers, but it was a long process.
I wanted to know if she had seen me, albeit an unrecognisable me, in Sandra’s flat the night she killed her. If she had, it would lead to a deeper investigation and some unwelcome questions. ‘So why did you kill Sandra before you got the money from her?’ Conversation would hopefully distract her, if she joined in.
She wasn’t going to, but then, in remembering, started to shake again. Her hand was trembling, and there is no safety catch on most revolvers. ‘We were good mates. I knew what hell her dad put her through. She hates men because of him, and she took revenge on every one she could. At school she took the boys and broke their hearts, then it was the turn of young men, now she rips off rich husbands. That was my idea, but always she was there in front, the beautiful image, the fantastic screw, while I was always second, always bloody second; Plain Jane to Sexy Sandra. We supported each other in the beginning, she was good to me and kind. It was only when she got all that money off Parsons that she got greedy. I love her though, I dunno why, because she never thanked me for my help. I just got the cast off men when they were too drunk to see the difference. She’s rich, you know, rich from using my ideas, but I’ve seen bugger all of it.’ She kept using the present tense with Sandra, as if in denial of her death.
‘All I get,’ she went on, ‘is a pittance and sex with her when she’s not working on a man.’
We needed to put her at ease, to speak softly and kindly and keep her talking. ‘So why did you do it then, why did you allow yourself to be second?’
She let out a long breath, then with less tension, ‘I dunno. I suppose because it gave me opportunities I wouldn’t normally have.’
There was a glint of moisture in her eyes, was this regret for life or love lost? She was calming down having vented her feelings, but I had to hold her attention a little longer. I didn’t need to try, however, she continued without prompting, ‘So I boiled over, erupted like a volcano suddenly. I’d had enough of sucking the hind teat, of being her bloody servant and sex slave.
‘After Anthony was arrested, I reckoned I had to look after myself, go it alone. I stole some pentobarbitone from the vet where I work and waited for the opportunity. With me, she liked to be tied up. It was something she would never do with a man. She had to dominate men. I suppose that was because of her perverted dad. Anyway, last night I tied her wrists to the headboard, pushed her plastic dick into her and sat on the other end. It was a vibrator as well, and while she was gasping away over that, I stuck her with the needle, right in the stomach. There was enough pentobarbitone in there to stun a horse. It took longer than I thought for her to die, though. She bucked and heaved for a couple of seconds under me to get away, but I’m heavier than her and stronger than her, and her hands were tied. The stuff kills through respiratory arrest, so I helped her on her way by ramming another dildo into her mouth. How many real cocks had she had in there? Then I left that double stuffed where a hundred men had been.’ She paused and began to shake even more. ‘Bloody whore,’ she cried, ‘I’m going to miss her. What will I do now?’
Loss and regret were tearing at her, but she had to justify herself to someone. Tears, laden with mascara, ran down her cheeks in ugly black rivulets. She began to sob, but her bloodshot eyes never left us.
The phone rang again, and Juliet picked it up after Mandy pointed at it. She put the speaker on and left the phone on the table within the w
oman’s reach.
Carter’s voice, tinny from the little speaker, said, ‘Mandy, I’m just keeping you in the picture. We’ve got the car ready, and the authorisation to release the money will be signed very shortly. But you must realise that you will never get away. In the old days, you might have done, but not today with police cooperation across Europe and all the technology we now have. You’re best course is to come out without your weapon and without harming the hostages. You don’t want any further charges against you.’
‘Switch him off.’
‘You must be hungry,’ Juliet said kindly, doing as she was told, ‘would you like something to eat?’ What was she up to?
Mandy nodded, and Juliet cautiously rose from her chair and crossed to the cooker. She was standing a single step away from Mandy who watched her all the time, ignoring me. Juliet fetched a bottle of oil, slid the frying pan onto the hot plate from where she had left it and moved the basket of eggs a bit closer to the Aga. Then she went back to the counter, opened a packet of bread and took out three slices, all normal calming actions. ‘I hope you like wholewheat,’ she said.
‘Whatever,’ was the sullen answer.
The phone rang again. This time Mandy picked it up and listened. I could just recognise Carter on the other end, but not the detail. She said, ‘Nobody’s going to get hurt if you do what I say and hurry up about it.’
Carter carried on talking and Mandy’s concentration on Juliet faltered. Her left hand held the phone, and her right held the revolver which was lying on the table in front of her, ready to deploy. My own left hand came free at that moment, but the other was still attached to the chair back. Juliet picked the pan up off the hob.
‘Mandy,’ I called, and she turned her head in my direction, away from Juliet, ‘tell him you want a light aircraft, you need to get out of the country.’