by Toni Parks
Once on the train, Barnham texted Emma to let her know of his 11.10 arrival time. Leaving the others at the Hotel Delle Nazioni on Via Poli, she ventured out on her own and meandered the narrow streets in search of the famous Spanish Steps in Piazza di Spagna. Barnham had been confident that he would find that location by noon and that time was nearly upon her. The romantic in her wanted their meeting to pay homage to Audrey and Gregory in Roman Holiday, even though Barnham was no Peck and being honest she was no Hepburn, either. But this was how they met and, in their hearts, romance was definitely alive and blossoming. They walked back to the Hotel arm-in-arm; Emma swinging her shoulder strapped handbag on the other and Terry carrying his holdall. His meeting with the others did not dampen their warm feeling; in fact Mama took to him straight away, as she saw how Emma brightened up even further when around him. Pernille and Eduardo were both as civil as they could be to a man of the law, even under his protestations that it was now all in the past. And even Jessica managed to peck him on the cheek, congratulate him on his successful impregnation of her sister and thanked him for the heads up with DC Blister turning up on their doorstep, on more than one occasion.
Awkwardness apart, the five of them got on well as they spent the remainder of the day being tourists. Mama had cried off from such activity, saying that she had visited Rome in the early 60’s and that was enough for her; so now a lie down with her feet up was more up her Via. With a little changing of rooms, the next few days went by quickly. Jessica swapped with Pernille, and she too was now, more often than not, happy to sit out the sightseeing and just keep Mama company, whilst the two sets of lovebirds romanced their way through the magical city. With the contentment of spending that time with her Nonna and fussing quietly over her needs, Eduardo discerned that Jessica’s goodbye was fast approaching. Her mood swing and signs of restlessness had brought him back from his personal enjoyment, so now he, could once again, concentrate on Jessica’s next move, by putting her first. He had picked up her new passport, enabling her to be, literally ready to fly. And with the threat of an Interpol APB identification alert, she already sported her new haircut, both in styling and colouring, which, along with her sun-kissed cheeks, brought a beauty and vitality that had been missing for some weeks past.
Eduardo chose his moment; a moment when Jessica was reading alone in the sun dappled but sheltered courtyard behind the hotel. He sat and took Jessica’s hand in his. She looked up expectantly, and placed her book, face down in her lap. This moment, although anticipated, had now arrived. “Jessica, you know you have to leave here, don’t you? You know that you must be wrenched away from your new friends and loved ones?”
Jessica squeezed his hand and tears sprung from her eyes as she replied, between sobs, “I do know Eduardo. I’ve known all along. Ever since I killed my first victim, I knew I would always have to leave and run. But then I didn’t have anybody, so it didn’t hurt. I killed cruel people to stop them being cruel any longer. And now I’m free but I’m not free. There is always that chance of a slip or a recognition. Or I may just breakdown totally and confess all.”
“No, Jessica, no. Never do that. You were traumatised and that alone, led you down the path of despair and depression. That is why you did those things. No adult should even face such anguish, let alone a child. But there is hope, there is a future, and I want you to grasp it. You remember Gabriella, from Washington DC?”
“Yes, I remember her, very fondly. She spoke lovingly of my mother.”
“Well, she still thinks of your mother in the same way, and is sympathetic to our cause. And she wants to help you in the same way your mother helped her. She now holds a very senior position at the Smithsonian Museum. Probably, she’ll have told you that she works there but modesty will have prevented her from saying how high she has risen. Anyway, I’ve got you a new identity and she’s happy for you to fly out and stay for however long you want. She will introduce you as her Italian niece and even pull some strings to get you a job at the museum, if that’s what you want. What do you think?”
“I love it. I understand the need to make a new start, which will in turn stop me running away. And visiting the States sounds wonderful, and seeing Gabriella. But it will be sad leaving Nonna and especially Emma, with her having a baby. And I don’t really want to be an email or Skype kind of aunt, either. But if I weigh that up against my freedom, then it’s a no brainer.”
“Right, it’s as good as done. I’ll get back in touch with Gabriella and get a flight booked under your new name. But to be on the safe side I’ll do that through SpiyWeb, then we’ll have a surveillance contact at the airport. Now, big decision, where do you want to fly from?”
Jessica knew it was a loaded question, considered it and answered, “Rome”.
“Good girl,” beamed Eduardo. “No point in putting off the inevitable. What about extra clothes and money?”
“I’ll buy an outfit to fly in but buy everything else I need when I get there. Or M can collect some of my favourite clothes from home maybe? Money wise,” here she stopped and laughed, “Emma’s got loads of old dollars somewhere. Always knew they would come in handy. I suppose the best bet is to sub me and claim it back off M.”
“Settled. But I wasn’t inferring that we wanted paying back, I just wondered how financially secure you are?”
“Well, with what Mum and Dad left, and Jeremy’s house and money and, then there’s my flat to sell, or will Emma and Barn.., erh Terry want to live there? Oh shit,” here Jessica paused again, “I’ve got Grannie’s money from the sale of her house tied up under my name. Half of that is now M’s by rights. What’s going to happen to that?”
“Leave that with me. You don’t know where the wonders of SpiyWebʼs skills can go. But believe me it will be sorted. Emma and you can split it all, whichever way you want. We’ll even create an account, which will allow the money to be channelled to your new name without any eyebrows being raised. Talking about names, you haven’t asked what you are now called?”
“Go on surprise me.”
“Jessica Lambert, I’d like to introduce, Ms Edith Forbes, but everyone calls her Edie,” replied Eduardo as he handed over her new passport.
“Edie Forbes, Edie Forbes. Yes I can get used to that.” And with that, Pernille came looking to see what was happening. She was introduced to Edie and shook hands with a laugh and then gave the newcomer a big kiss on each cheek. Emma and Terry did not find out until later, as Emma feigned tiredness, as if! And by the time they did surface even Mama was on her second glass of Prosecco. The celebrations continued with a meal where everyone was informed of the future plans of the slightly, dewy eyed Jessica. Nonna and Emma both cried at the news but neither knew who had shed the most tears. The answer was Edie, but that’s because she was all cried out even before the celebrations had begun.
The airport farewells were particularly difficult as only Nonna and Pernille could be seen with the newly christened, Edie. And both needed to be on their mettle to make sure the name ‘Jessica’ did not slip through their lips. But Eduardo had been adamant that the other three, including himself, would seriously compromise the ruse if seen in Edie’s company. So their goodbyes were held in the back of the Audi behind tinted windows. Emma took it particularly hard and sobbed continually as Edie walked across the Leonardo Da Vinci car park towards the departures entrance. The only telltale sign of their parting being the uncontrollable movement in her shoulders, expressing the free rein now given over to all her recent happy memories. Eduardo tried to reassure Emma that she would see her sister again, once the interest in her whereabouts abated. It would no doubt mean a trip to the States, but that was no hardship, surely? Emma agreed and was happy that Terry had now been placed in quarantine with her, so at least she had her shoulder of choice, on which to cry.
It had been decided that a nonstop flight would be the most judicious as this avoided any last minute detection in Amsterdam or one of the other European airports. So at 9.25, Edie handed in
her small luggage at the United Airlines desk, and checked-in for the 10.50 flight to Washington DC. At which point Jessica Lambert ceased to exist.
LOOSE ENDS
Edinburgh DC Blister returned from Italy, empty handed and empty headed. He had no idea where to look next. Jessica Lambert should still by rights, be banged to rights but she was nowhere to be found. He went back to the station with a very much hangdog look and a feeling of failure. DCI Soutar, who showed no surprise at Barnham jumping ship, debriefed him. With Barnham having retired once, why not again? The more the DCI talked, the more confused Blister became. It did not sound like a bollocking; that was for sure. And it wasn’t. The Super was of the opinion that DC Blister had shown considerable enterprise and ingenuity in proving not once, but twice, that Jessica Lambert was the serial killer, even though he was not directly assigned to the case in the first place. And it was through the fault of others that she had slipped under the radar. So promotion for him was in the offing.
The only saving grace in not catching the murderer was that the media had not caught wind of the latest breakthrough anyway and so were not clamouring for anyone’s head, in spite of sloppy justice. They were still trying to get to grips as to her release; very much like crows pecking over their road kill only to find it swept away under the wheels of the next passing car. If they had decided to target one head, it could quite easily have been Elspeth Macleod’s, as hers had been flip-flopping a little on the case already and so could have been the prime suspect for a scapegoat. But Blister being a man of integrity and possibly a future diplomat, withheld from them the fact that he had already suggested that Jessica Lambert had worked part time in a chemist’s.
Yetholm The whole Seth trauma had resulted positively for the Tait family. The secret held by Rawnie and her mother almost came to light, but then with her return into the fold it just disappeared, which in a roundabout way washed her guilt clean, and reunited the family.
Rawnie went on to demonstrate her ability to learn a trade and to keep her nose clean at the same time. She even brought a little light touch and charisma to an otherwise man’s world, and Seth at long last began to appreciate that girls could be practical as well as intelligent.
He also found that his standing within the local community had not been diminished, in fact, the gypsy and village councillors gained an even closer understanding.
Seth was now happy to have regained his life. No longer was he interested in trying to live it through others. Now that his legacy had been re-anchored he was content to reduce his workload, particularly as Rawnie was undertaking the easier tasks and Joe had stepped up to the more complicated. Thus leaving Seth to enjoy the simpler pleasures of life such as a day at the races or taking his wife shopping in Edinburgh, unheard of ideas whilst originally building up the business.
Aberdeen Alonzo struggled to cope with the loss of his son, the majority of his workforce and all of his empire. The building collapse, coming not long after the drugs burnout, had wiped out the bulk of his productive employees. And now it was left up to him to reconcile the loss and disappointment of his son and the futility of his situation, and handle not only the grieving process but also throw himself back into work with a recruitment drive targeting men of mettle and experience with all its connotations. He would be taking many steps backwards before he could come forward and that was even allowing for the fact that he had cash readily available to help with the task. His two buildings on St Fittick’s Road were decimated but the insurance company agreed to cover the loss, and once the police cordon was taken away the site could be cleared for rebuilding.
Calum was happy at winning the war, and with his human resources still just about intact too. However, he was more than pissed off about the hold up with the insurance assessors who deemed that the Guild Street building collapse was caused by an act of sabotage, and so were not automatically paying out until after the police investigation had been signed off. That on top of the delay in completing the building anyway was now leaving Hunter-Bell Construction seriously under funded. His only saving grace was that the drugs community, were desperately looking to his organisation for all their needs, as most products were no longer available elsewhere. Added to that were three extra mouths to feed, two by way of Caleb Clooney and Jonnie Turnbull, infiltrators of Lucisano’s organization, who had both been on the failed transporter hoist with Eduardo. The third an unidentified informer, who had told Calum of the plot to blow up his building; his identity still remained an enigma. Suffice to say all three would find it difficult to continue in Alonzo’s employ without seriously bending the truth.
DI Barbour sat at her desk massaging her temples and not for the first time. She questioned why the onslaught of murders and crimes had slowed to a halt. There had been no new murders in at least two weeks now; in fact her biggest headache was fending off the media frenzy, alongside her PR colleague. The public still wanted answers on who strung up Joey Donaldson? How and why had the ‘chamber of horrors’ grotesque met his death? And who was he? It was obvious to her that the so-called three amigos had been murdered in some form of drugs war, but by whom? Who was responsible for the destruction of the two buildings on St Fittick’s Road? And were drones involved in the buildings’ destructions? And would the fraud squad be able to track down the owners and get to the bottom of what the buildings were really used for anyway? And talking of drones, what answers were there on the investigation into their whereabouts when hovering overhead with the banner? Why were bodies pulled out of the Guild Street building collapse being identified as a rival gang as opposed to the owners of the building? And do the fragments of the mobile detonation trigger lead to the assumption that it was a booby trap gone wrong?
The massaging did not bring any answers but the fact that no new murders were occurring certainly gave her, and her team, extra time to investigate the copious questions and try to formulate some positive results.
EPILOGUE
Secondigliano “Oh come on Cristiano, I want a white wedding with all the bells and whistles. Why can’t I have the full works?” pleaded Emma.
“Emma, my child. I’ve already explained that to have a full Catholic Church service, would mean at least one of you converting to Catholicism, which isn’t something that happens overnight. And then the other one has to have instructions, and those alone last for weeks. Is this what you really want?”
“I suppose it could work, as long as you rig up a birthing bay behind the altar, sounds like I might need one from the sounds of your timescale. And that’s just me. But looking at Terry’s sour face I think he’s already done with this being told what to do malarkey.”
“OK. Presuming the Pope’s not going to give you special dispensation, your best alternative’s to have the Mayor preside over a civil ceremony. And you know that will happen, with it being Eduardo. And then you can come into the church and I’ll give you a blessing with two or three hymns and incense thrown in, if you want. And that can all happen in plenty of time before the baby’s due.”
Emma looked at Terry; he shrugged his shoulders, so she said, “Sounds good. So whatever day Eduardo says is OK with you?”
“Pretty much, yes.” Eduardo agreed three weeks hence and the word went around the village like wild fire. The granddaughter of one of their own, who also just happened to be one of their saviours, was to marry. The bunting needed dusting off; a celebration planned and experienced, considered advice given to the bride to be. Well perhaps not the advice bit as she was already into her fourth month of pregnancy, but at least another three weeks should cause no adverse problems with regards to the dress, as long as a little leeway was seamlessly sewn in.
So three weeks fit neatly into Emma’s brain and came out as: first week pre-honeymoon sightseeing and dress hunt, with a little more of her getting to really know the man whom she thought she had already nearly said ‘yes’ to, and the implications of buying a dress that would instantly become too small. The second week would be a trip back t
o the UK, to see how the land lay, put their houses in order by checking on Jessica’s flat and enabling Terry to put his Newcastle house on the market and give notice on his bed-sit. And the third week back to Italy to retry the dress and ensure final preparations were in progress for the big day.
Now the decisions had been made, the soon to be married couple embarked on their bachelor and hen sightseeing parties together, and at the same time. Not much alcohol flowed, there were no pranks, just innuendoes, a bit of dressing up and down, and plenty of sex. Well it would have been irresponsible of Emma to drink, so Terry abstained too and with the party only being organised for the two of them, neither felt the need to prank each other. But as no one had advised Emma differently, she did put on and take off one or two garments to spice up the party a little and was pleased to note Terry found it, to say the least, interesting.
One of their actual sightseeing occasions, found them bobbing in a small boat on the Tyrrhenian Sea as it skirted the Capri coastline whilst transporting them to the Grotta Azzurra; Emma reached out and grasped Barnham’s hand as well as the occasion, and said, “Terry, darling. Are you really and truly prepared to marry into my dangerous family? I mean, look at me, there can’t be many lovers who try and kill their men before the baby’s born? Well apart from the praying mantis, I suppose. Perhaps that’s what I am.”
“Well, when you put it like that it does put a whole new spin on shotgun wedding. But, love, the way I see it is, it’s better to be on the inside than out. I know all about your family history, possibly more than you but that’s another story. And I’m now getting a little more understanding of the Italian side too, and I think they’re warming to me even though I’m an ex cop. But just look at you now, after what you’ve been through, think what you would have lost had that needle done the business.” At this point he wrapped his arm around her bare midriff, caressing the slightly extended bump on her otherwise slim frame, and continued, “The question should really be what are you going to tell this one about your twin sister? About her being a murderess and of renown? It’s more about your commitment really.”