by Julie Corbin
‘This business of the safe house . . .’ I say.
‘It’ll be ready tomorrow.’ He gives me a considered look. ‘Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?’
‘No.’ I hold his eyes. ‘I want to ask you for something.’ I pause. ‘I want you to help me.’
‘I am helping you, aren’t I?’
‘Not enough.’
We’re both leaning against the wall, sideways on to each other, our faces close. His eyes tell me that he gets my meaning. I feel the connection between us tighten a notch. ‘I wondered whether we might get to that.’
One of the forensic team, dressed in a white boilersuit, comes out of the kitchen. Mac and I move apart.
‘You almost done in there?’ Mac asks him.
‘Two minutes,’ he says, and looks at me. ‘Then we’ll be out of your hair.’
‘Thank you,’ I say.
Mac moves off towards the kitchen, walking the first few steps backwards. ‘Later?’ he says.
I nod and go downstairs again.
Charlie is standing at the bottom. ‘So Dad’s on his way?’
‘Yes.’
We go in to tell the others. More questions that I’m unable to answer, but I do reiterate that we’ll be having the family meeting as soon as Julian is home.
‘Should I be staying for that?’ Wendy asks.
‘I’d like you to.’
‘Right . . . Well, in that case, with the kitchen clear, how about I make some sandwiches?’
‘Great idea.’
We all troop upstairs again. I’m hanging back. Since the heart was delivered I’ve felt dizzy. I know I’m breathing too quickly, but I can’t seem to stop. I stand outside on the step, holding on to the railings, and try to take slower, deeper breaths. I know my body is experiencing the flight-or-fight response, my blood pumped full of adrenaline and oxygen. But I have nowhere to run, and the person I’m fighting is still invisible to us.
The forensic team are now packing their equipment into their van. Baker and Faraway have been joined by another half a dozen policemen, all milling around on the pavement. Several passers-by look up at the house to try and work out what’s going on. I don’t acknowledge them. Instead, I turn my face up to the sky and watch two seagulls wrestle mid-flight over what looks like a crust of bread. The bigger, stronger one wins and flies off with the prize, while the smaller one squawks his defeat and glides down to the pavement, satisfied with pecking around in the gutter.
Another police car pulls up outside and Sezen climbs out. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her looking tired and unkempt. She comes up the steps, her face tight with an emotion that I take to be betrayal. I want to look away, but I don’t. I don’t believe that, under the circumstances, questioning her was unreasonable.
She stands in front of me. ‘I have come for Lara and for our things.’
‘Of course.’ I take a breath. ‘I’m sorry for what you’ve had to go through.’
‘Are you?’ Her expression is defiant.
‘Yes, I am.’ I hold my ground. If she hadn’t been lying, she wouldn’t have been under suspicion. ‘Is your friend seeking asylum?’
‘He spent eighteen months in a detention centre.’
‘And then what?’
‘He escaped.’
‘Is he in danger if he goes home?’
She looks at me as if I’m stupid. ‘Of course.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this?’ I take her arm. ‘We’re lawyers. If he needs asylum, we might be able to help you.’
‘You expect me to trust you when it is clear you do not trust me?’
‘It’s not that simple. Bea is being threatened and you were hiding something. How was I to know that you’re—’
‘I am the foreigner, the one most likely to be involved.’
‘I understand that you’re angry.’
‘You are not the one who has spent the night in a police cell.’
Her tone is vicious and it makes me recoil. ‘You know what, Sezen? Keep your pride; keep your anger.’ I raise my hands and step out of her way. ‘I simply don’t have time for this.’
I stay at the front door while she marches inside. I count the seconds until Wendy appears.
‘What’s going on now? What’s happening with Sezen? She seems very upset.’
‘Wendy, please.’ I fold my arms. ‘It will all be explained soon.’
‘Increased security,’ Mac says, appearing at just the right time. He introduces himself, holding out a hand for Wendy to shake. ‘And you must be the lovely Wendy. Claire tells me you’re indispensible.’
‘Well, I . . .’
He explains that the imminent trial has meant extra precautions. He manages to make it sound both serious and manageable. There’s no question of Sezen and Lara being turned out, but not only is it better for them to go somewhere less hectic, it will keep things simple in this household too.
Wendy is visibly bowled over by his charm. She blushes and pats her hair at the point where the bob curls into her neck. ‘Detective Inspector, would it help if I was to give Sezen a bed for the night?’
‘That’s very kind, but we have organised a quiet B and B for her.’
‘I owe her money,’ I say. ‘I’ll get my purse.’
Fortunately I have enough cash and I give it to Wendy. ‘Would you mind passing it on to Sezen?’
I go back indoors. Bea is playing under the stairs. I give her a bowl of her favourite snack foods: a small bunch of grapes, slices of apple and cubes of cheese. She settles back on the cushions and switches on a talking book.
Mac introduces me to a female officer. She can’t be more than twenty-five, dark hair, dark eyes. She’s called Pam and she is to be our family liaison officer. I shake her hand. She is sincere, polite and sympathetic. She says all the right things about being there to support the family and understanding how hard this must be for us. She is trying hard to make a good first impression. I know the sort of briefing officers get when dealing with cases like this: eye contact is important, keep the family calm, explain everything slowly and carefully, only give information on a need-to-know basis.
Mac takes her through to the sitting room, where everyone is gathered: the boys, plus Lisa and Wendy. I hold back in the hallway, knowing that any second now Julian will walk through the front door. I start counting the seconds and only get as far as fifteen before his key is in the lock and he comes in.
‘So no more emails today?’ I blurt out straight away. Of course, he doesn’t know that I’ve sent my own email, but I have been wondering whether the blackmailer would tell Julian I had written, just to further divide us.
He takes off his jacket and hangs it on one of the pegs inside the porch, his face turned away from me when he says, ‘No.’
‘Why do you think she hasn’t replied to the one you sent her? The one that told her you no longer know where the witness is.’
‘I don’t know.’ He throws me a look. ‘Are you and the children OK?’
‘A heart was delivered to the house today, Julian. A heart.’
‘I heard.’ He looks tired. Worse than that, he looks anxious, scared even.
Wendy comes out of the sitting room. ‘Julian, you’re home!’ She kisses him on both cheeks. ‘I’m going to bring through some tea and sandwiches. I’ve everything laid out on a tray. Won’t take a moment.’ She goes off to the kitchen.
‘I don’t suppose there was any need to send an email,’ I say. ‘The heart said it all. That was her reply.’
‘According to the postmark, the heart was posted first thing yesterday morning. Before I sent the email.’
‘So she was planning this all along?’
‘Looks like it.’
‘Daddy!’ The curtain covering Bea’s makeshift den moves aside and she hangs her head out. ‘I’m in here!’
‘So you are!’ Julian bends down to kiss her.
‘Lara’s gone away now.’
‘Has she?’ He leans further into her den. ‘And w
hat are you up to in there?’
‘Nothing for nosey folks,’ she says, giggling, and abruptly pulls back the curtain.
Julian gives me a questioning look. ‘Where did she learn that expression?’
‘Jack. But listen.’ I hold on to his lapels. ‘The note she sent with the heart.’ I give an involuntary shiver. ‘She’s not giving up, Julian.’
‘It must have been a shock.’
‘Truthfully? It’s really shaken me up.’
He puts his arms round my waist and pulls me close. I see a glimmer of the old Julian, the one I can trust. It gives me hope that I won’t have to go it alone, that he’ll see how dangerous this is, act now and put the family first.
‘It’s the intent behind the note,’ I say. ‘Is this what happened to the Italian couple whose son was taken and murdered?’
‘I don’t know all the details.’
‘Maybe not, but I think we both know that they had time to react, just like we have.’ I lean into his chest. ‘It’s too much, Julian. This has gone far enough.’
‘Mission accomplished!’ Wendy is back with the tray. She gives us an appraising glance, then goes into the sitting room. I pull the door shut behind her.
‘Julian, time is running out. We have to do something ourselves.’
‘You’re out of your depth with this, Claire.’
‘I’m out of my depth?’ I give a short laugh. ‘We’re all out of our depth! It’s just that I’m the only one who can admit it.’
‘I want Georgiev convicted.’
‘I see.’ I take a step back. ‘Now we’re getting to the nub of it.’
‘Public office brings with it honour and responsibility. You know that!’
‘You are Bea’s father.’
‘Will you stop this!’ he hisses. ‘You’re making it black and white, as if we can’t have Bea’s safety without giving up on the witness.’
‘Sometimes life is black and white.’
‘Keeping Bea safe and winning the trial are not mutually exclusive. We can have both.’
‘Not without risk.’ I grind out the words. ‘That’s why we have to step back from this.’
‘Are you two coming in?’ Wendy appears again. She senses the atmosphere and looks uncertainly from me to Julian and back again. ‘Everyone’s waiting.’
Julian gives me a dismissive glare and we go into the sitting room. I sit down on the sofa next to Lisa. The mood is expectant. Nobody is talking apart from Wendy, who is passing around the plate of sandwiches. ‘Your tea is on the table over there, Claire.’
I try to catch Julian’s eye, but his elbow is on the mantelpiece, his chin is in his hand, and he is looking through the window. He is tapping his foot on the fire surround. I walk over for my tea and on the way back to my seat I place my hand on his back. No response. I sit down again.
‘So.’ Mac smiles around at us all. ‘I’m going to kick off this meeting. At any time if anyone has a question, please feel free to ask it.’
Immediately Jack’s hand goes up. ‘I don’t know why we’re here.’ He looks around the room. ‘Does anybody?’
‘That’s what we’re going to talk about,’ Mac says. ‘As you all know, Julian’ – he looks at the boys – ‘your dad, is working on an important case.’
‘Pavel Georgiev?’ Jack says. ‘The Bulgarian Mafia guy?’
‘Exactly,’ Mac says. ‘The prosecution has a watertight case, but much of their evidence rests on a key witness. The identity and whereabouts of this witness are being kept a secret.’
‘Because Georgiev’s men might get to him?’ Jack says.
‘That’s right.’ He glances across at Julian before he says, ‘There’s no easy way to tell you all this. Georgiev’s men have been sending threatening emails and, as a precaution, you’re going to be moving to a safe house tomorrow.’
A second of silence and then several people speak at once.
‘What sort of threats?’
‘For how long?’
‘Did you know about this, Claire?’ Wendy says, her eyes wide and fearful as if she’s stumbled into something that’s beyond her comprehension.
‘I haven’t known for long,’ I say.
Mac starts talking again. He explains about the emails. He says they haven’t been able to trace whoever is writing them, but their suspicion is that she is a woman.
‘So what’s some woman going to do to us?’ Jack says. ‘There are three men living here.’
Charlie gives him a sceptical look.
‘I’m as strong as a man,’ Jack says, and turns to Lisa for verification.
‘Absolutely,’ she says.
‘It’s likely this woman is a professional,’ Mac says, ‘but if she isn’t, she will have help.’
‘But what would she do?’ Charlie says. ‘If she was to get in, I mean.’
Both boys are struggling to believe that a woman could pose a real threat.
‘Does she carry a gun?’ Charlie says.
‘More probably a knife,’ I say. ‘The emails indicate she carries a knife and—’
‘Claire!’ It’s the first time Julian has spoken. His voice is loud and almost everyone jumps.
‘What?’ I challenge his stare. I know he thinks I’m about to give gory details from the Italian and Bulgarian cases. I’m not, but at the same time I think we need to be more direct. ‘If we don’t tell them the truth, they won’t realise how serious it is,’ I say. I look at both the boys. ‘We know Georgiev has engineered at least two situations like this before where young women who were working for him infiltrated people’s lives and committed murder.’
Wendy lets out a cry, her eyes wide and staring. Her lips move as she works it out and then her attention locks on to Mac. ‘DI MacPherson, are the children, and Julian and Claire’ – she takes a breath – ‘are their lives in danger?’
Mac nods. ‘Possibly.’
‘How? Why?’ Wendy’s head jerks from side to side. ‘What would someone gain from it?’
‘The emailer wants information, Wendy. If she doesn’t get it, she has threatened to kidnap Bea.’ It’s my voice again and this time Julian doesn’t interrupt. ‘Bea will be the easiest to take.’
‘Little Bea?’ Wendy’s breathing is loud and fast as she struggles to take it in. ‘She’s just a baby.’ She starts to cry and Pam, the family liaison officer, goes across to comfort her.
Julian gives me an are-you-happy-now look, which I don’t feel I deserve. I stand up.
‘Mum?’ Charlie is pale, sober.
‘I’m sorry, Charlie,’ I say, ‘but this is a very serious situation.’
‘I could take on a woman!’ Jack says. He jumps to his feet, his mouth trembling but his words full of bravado. ‘Even if she does have a knife, I could still take her.’
‘This is real life, Jack,’ I say. ‘Georgiev doesn’t make mistakes. If he has sent her to do a job, she will be capable of it. It’s extremely unlikely that anything you could come up with would stop her.’
‘Dad? Don’t you think we could take a woman?’
‘Not in this case, no,’ Julian says. ‘It’s important to Mum and me that it doesn’t get that far.’
‘So what can we do?’ Lisa says, looking at Mac. ‘In your experience how should we proceed from here?’
‘As I mentioned, tomorrow we will be moving you to a safe house. This will mean that you won’t be able to phone or see friends for a number of weeks.’
A great hullaballoo breaks out as Jack and, to a lesser extent, Charlie object to such stringency. Mac explains the reasons for this and I tune out, thinking instead about how soon I can be alone with Mac and put an end to all of this.
‘The most important thing is for every one of us to be aware of safety,’ Mac is saying. ‘Keep the doors and the windows locked. Don’t invite people home. Report anything unusual, anything at all, no matter how small or insignificant: a phone call, an email, somebody taking an unexpected interest in you.’
‘But that mea
ns we’re giving in,’ Jack says. ‘We shouldn’t give in to intimidation.’
‘Giving in would be handing her the witness,’ Julian says. ‘We’re simply taking sensible precautions.’
Jack throws himself against the back of his seat. ‘I still reckon I could take her.’ He looks at his brother. ‘Charlie? You and me, we could sort her out.’
Charlie, older and more realistic, turns to him. ‘Just because she’s a woman doesn’t mean she won’t be quick and strong.’
Wendy has stopped crying and says, ‘I will cooperate in whatever way I can.’
Mac smiles at her. ‘You won’t be confined to barracks, but I would urge extreme caution.’
‘The children won’t be going out,’ Julian says before I can voice the same thought.
Everyone looks at him.
‘Non-negotiable.’
Jack says, ‘Well, I was grounded anyway.’ He sighs, then raises his mug of tea. ‘Here’s to a happy summer, everyone.’
‘Any further questions?’
Silence as we all digest what we’ve just heard and then Bea comes into the room. ‘Horrid Henry is finished.’ All eyes swivel to her. She’s holding on to the front of her dress. ‘And I need a wee,’ she says, then, suddenly shy, runs to me and hides her face in my lap.
‘I’ll take you.’ I stand up.
‘Let me, Claire.’ Wendy comes forward and takes Bea’s hand. ‘It’ll let you get on with the packing.’
I take part in the charade of packing. We start in Jack’s room. While I help Jack sort through his stuff, Bea sits on the bed watching Finding Nemo. A wire stretches from the television to a pair of earphones, which look enormous on her small head. They keep slipping down to her neck and she pushes them up again. Her lips are moving in time with the characters’ speech. Every so often she waves her arm at Jack and points at the screen. He nods and gives her a thumbs-up and she goes back to watching.
‘She can sleep in my bed, Mum,’ Jack says. ‘Charlie and I have decided that as long as she’s with one of us, nothing can happen to her.’ He puts a hand on her leg and she wriggles it off again. ‘This woman, she’d have to have a whole frickin’ army with her. There’s no way anyone’s getting my sister.’ He stands in front of me, his expression sober. ‘Seriously, though, Mum, maybe we should have a gun.’