There wasn't time for Richie's news to sink in before Sam's phone was ringing again. This time it was Benjamin.
'Sam, I'm just letting you know that Arnold has turned up. He's back at my place.'
'Is he okay?'
'Yes, he was up at the cemetery. I've just told him about Erica.'
Benjamin's tone said it all. Arnold hadn't taken the news well.
'Anyway, it was just a quick call to let you know he's okay. I've got to go now. I'm taking Erica's friend to the airport. She's getting the next flight-'
'Are you picking her up from her hotel?'
'That's right.'
'Can I tag along with you?'
'Why would you-'
Then it clicked with Benjamin.
'Okay, Sam. I'll meet you outside the hotel.'
As luck would have it, the hotel was only a couple of minutes walk away from where Sam was parked. He got back out the car and re-traced his steps into town. This time he walked on past Sherbourne Close, casting an thoughtful look in the direction of the house he had just called on. Barry Rogers hadn't even suspected his property was being used as part of a deception. Sam had left it that way.
Sam got to the hotel and waited outside for Benjamin. The Sheraton Hotel was a towering building, resembling a multi-storey block of high-quality flats. It had a reputation for catering for overseas visitors. Sam felt a tinge of sadness. One of their guests wouldn't be making the return trip home.
Benjamin arrived a few minutes later, looking as guilty as hell.
'What are you pulling a face for?' asked Sam.
'I'm not comfortable with this, Sam.'
The two men started towards the hotel entrance.
'Benjamin, we're not going to whip out a forensics kit and dust the place down for fingerprints. We just sympathise with her, help her with her bags, and keep our eyes open for anything unusual in the room.'
'Unusual? How do you mean?'
'That's the problem,' said Sam, leading them into the hotel. 'You never know until you find it.'
Five minutes later, they were in Taylor Berkowicz's hotel room. Erica's friend had all her cases packed and ready to go. Benjamin had discreetly told the porter his services wouldn't be needed, that they would see to the bags themselves.
'I can't stay in this country a moment longer,' sniffed Taylor in a mid-western drawl. She was in her sixties, with a drawn face and skinny frame. 'Poor Erica. Her first trip back to England and she-'
She put her hand to her mouth and shook her head sadly. Benjamin offered her soothing words of condolence. Sam glanced around the room.
'It was the look on her face when I found her,' said Taylor, her voice dropping to a whisper as she gazed at a chair feet away. 'It's going to stay with me for ever.'
Both men gave her a curious look.
'Her mouth and eyes were wide open,' explained Erica, shuddering at her own recollection. 'She looked absolutely terrified.'
Sam and Benjamin exchanged looks.
'My poor, dear friend! She must have been in so much pain.'
Taylor couldn't hold the tears back any longer. Benjamin offered her his handkerchief, fussing over her as much as Sam hoped he would. For his part, Sam gazed at the chair in which Erica had spent her last moments. It was facing the one and only window in the room. The window was still open, allowing some air into the warm room. Sam presumed it had been open since the two women returned from the wake.
'Sam, we'd better get moving.'
Benjamin was looking at him in concern. Taylor was sobbing, still torn apart by the loss of her friend. Sam could see she needed to get away from this place. The room was like poison to her. The two men encouraged her to wait outside the door while they carried her luggage to the lift.
'Is that it?' she asked as they dropped the last case down outside the lift. 'Can we go now?'
Benjamin gave her a warm smile.
'We''ll be on our way in a second. Sam's just shutting the window.'
Inside the room, Sam wasn't shutting the window, but he was paying close attention to it. He had already found a partial footprint on the ledge. Now he was gazing around the frame. At the top, he saw something snagged on a small nail protruding from the wall. He reached up and picked it off. A tiny thread of black wool. A hat? Sam looked up again. The man was tall enough to have brushed his head. Sam gave the chair one final glance.
Sam imagined the scenario. The man climbing in through the window. Erica startled by his appearance directly in front of her, struggling to identify him due to her poor eyesight. Confusion would have given way to fright as the man neared, and she took in his power and bulk, his cold-blooded intent. Perhaps he had given her the same sinister grin.
But what had happened next? Had his presence alone been enough to cause her heart attack, therefore denying him the act of murder as with Geoffrey? Or had his intention been to interrogate her for information, only for her heart to collapse under the strain?
Either way, Sam had no doubt that Erica had been scared to death.
***
Away from the hotel, Taylor was far more composed, happy to talk about Erica as Benjamin drove her to the airport. The two women had met at a charity function twenty years ago. Raising money for those in need was a passion close to both their hearts, and their friendship had grown from there. With a sad smile, Taylor declared she was going to rename her own charity in memory of her dear, departed friend.
'I can imagine she was popular back home,' said Sam, encouraging the conversation with gentle probing from the back seat. 'She certainly made an impression on us in the short time she was here.'
Taylor sighed heavily.
'That was Erica down to a tee. Always making friends, constantly making people laugh. She was never short of company.'
A sudden thought crossed Sam's mind. He opened his mouth, but Benjamin beat him to it.
'Do you know who told her about my father's death? Only she wasn't in contact with anyone over here any more.'
'That's right, she wasn't,' replied Taylor. 'She used to write to your mother frequently, but when Marjorie passed away...'
Benjamin drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. They were only minutes from the airport.
'Yes, I remember seeing letters from America now,' he said. 'I think my father threw them away after my mother died.'
Benjamin chewed on his lip and looked across at Taylor.
'Come to think of it,' he said. 'Erica didn't come to my mother's funeral, did she?'
Taylor shook her head.
'Geoffrey sent her an invite, but she was too ill at the time to make the trip. I still remember her devastation at missing it.'
Sam was listening intently. The conversation appeared to be petering out without Benjamin's question being answered.
'So, how did Erica find out about Geoffrey's funeral?' he asked.
Taylor turned in her seat to address Sam.
'Do you know, I never found that out. Isn't that strange?'
Sam thought it very strange. Travelling halfway around the world without knowing who had asked you on the trip.
'You had no idea?'
Taylor turned back to face the front. Sam saw her head shake from side to side.
'All I know is coming here was Erica's way of making up for missing Marjorie's funeral. When I asked how she knew about Geoffrey's passing, all she said was a little birdie had told her. It was so unlike her, she wasn't usually so secretive. I tried again on the flight over, but she still wouldn't tell me.'
Sam noticed Benjamin looking at him in the rear view mirror.
His eyebrows were raised.
***
A short time later, they were on their way back from the airport, minus Taylor. The woman had practically run into the departure lounge in her haste to leave her nightmare behind. Sam couldn't really blame her.
'So, what are we going to do now?'
Sam smiled at Benjamin's question. The resolve had returned to his voice after hi
s recent scare.
'What's so funny?' asked Benjamin.
'You,' replied Sam. 'It wasn't that long ago you were telling me to drop the case.'
A steely look appeared in Benjamin's eyes. He had been shaken, almost scared off, but now he was looking like the man Sam had first met days ago. A man convinced in what he believed in again.
'That was before Erica passed away. That's two deaths now this man has been involved in.'
Sam had told Benjamin about his discoveries in the hotel room. He had also told him about the false identification used to obtain the hire car. Benjamin was fuming, out for blood.
'Can't we try going to the police now?' he asked.
Sam shook his head.
'We haven't got enough to get them even remotely interested. The photo we've got isn't bringing up a name, address or record of any kind. Neither of the deaths are going to be looked at as suspicious by the police without overwhelming evidence. Then there's the threat that was made to you...'
Sam thought about Richard Brown and how he was still on the loose despite the best efforts of DI Jackson.
'Benjamin, even if the police believe us, there's no guarantee they would find this man...and if he realises they're onto him, he's going to come looking for you. Don't forget, Arnold's at your home right now...and he's got a family back up in Scotland.'
Benjamin chewed on his lip.
'I hadn't thought about that,' he murmured.
Sam had given it plenty of thought. In the unlikely scenario the police hunted this man down based on Sam's information, Benjamin wouldn't be offered anything like the level of protection Alice was currently getting. In her case, there was hard evidence to warrant such action. Benjamin would be laughed all the way out the station if he asked for the same security.
'I'll stay on the case, Benjamin, just in case this guy is targeting someone else. But it's got to be discreet from now on. The police have got to be kept out of it...and we need to keep our contact with each other to a minimum.'
Benjamin nodded in approval. Sam smiled. He would have continued regardless and Benjamin would have been no wiser.
'Anyway, how's your brother?' asked Sam 'Where did he go earlier?'
'He went straight to the cemetery from the wake...turned his phone off so he could have some peace and quiet at our father's graveside. Talking to Erica has really made him re-assess everything about our father.'
'It's a shame he only got to talk to her after his death.'
'Exactly what I thought, but now this has happened to Erica, it's thrown him again. He's going to stay with me tonight. Hopefully, he'll clear his head before he goes back tomorrow.'
'All the more reason for you both to stay safe.'
Benjamin nodded in reluctant agreement.
***
After Benjamin dropped him back in town, Sam collected his car, dropped his gun off at the flat and drove to the Barton Arms. It was late by the time he reached the pub. The road outside was dimly-lit, the soft glow from the sparse street-lights doing little to illuminate the vicinity. The pub doors were locked, and the building was in darkness except for a light in the upstairs kitchen window. Keeping his eyes peeled, Sam walked up to the door.
Suddenly, strong hands grabbed him by the arms and slammed him into the wall.
'Police!'
Sam was impressed. He hadn't spotted anyone.
'Keep your hands against the wall and your legs apart!'
Two pairs of hands expertly padded him down, leaving Sam relieved he had offloaded the gun. He was philosophical about this inconvenience. Getting a face full of brick was a small price to pay if it meant the women were being protected properly. And it certainly seemed they were.
'Name!'
A second voice. Harsh. To the point. Sam couldn't have chosen better men for the job himself.
'Sam Carlisle,' he replied, spitting dust out of his mouth. 'The landlord is expecting me. Give him a bell.'
They didn't relax their grip in the slightest, nor did Sam turn his head to look around. He knew he would only have another bruise on his face to show if he did.
'Mr Curran? We've got a Sam Carlisle outside...you're coming down...okay...'
Sam felt the hands holding him loosen just a touch.
'He's on his way down. We can get this cleared up then.'
Sam wasn't sure if they were addressing him or talking to each other. There followed a surreal few moments where they all waited for Archie in silence, each man breathing steadily, not moving a muscle. Then Sam heard the sound of bolts sliding inside the pub.
'It's okay, gentlemen,' Archie called out. 'You can let this trouble-maker go.'
Sam's arms were released. He rubbed some life back into them as he turned around.
'Come on, Sam,' grinned Archie. 'Let's get you inside.'
Before he did, Sam took in the two men who had apprehended him. They were both short and stocky, with cropped hair and thick necks. Sam thought he was seeing double before he realised they were twins. Both men held a hand out to him.
'No hard feelings, mate,' said one, giving Sam a wry smile. 'Just doing our job.'
'None at all,' replied Sam, taking his hand. 'Just make sure you keep doing it.'
As Sam followed Archie upstairs to the pub's living quarters, he felt the throbbing in his leg start up again.
'Have you been in the wars again?' asked Archie, noticing Sam wince with every step.
Sam grimaced at him.
'It's nothing a drop of the hard stuff won't fix.'
'That's my boy,' said Archie. 'Come on, you've got people waiting to see you.'
Moira and Alice were sat at a table in the small kitchen. The tension on the faces turned to surprise when they saw Sam hobble in with his face in a state. Alice was on her feet straight away.
'Sam! What happened to-'
'I'll live,' said Sam, waving for her to sit back down, gingerly doing the same himself. He looked around for Archie. 'Typical,' he said. 'Where's a landlord when you want one?'
Archie re-appeared right on cue carrying a bottle of whisky.
'I've just met your personal security downstairs,' said Sam, looking at Moira and Alice in turn. 'I don't think you've got anything to worry about while they're watching over you.'
Archie poured them all a stiff drink. The toast was a sombre one.
'Well, I hope they catch Richard soon,' said Moira, pulling a face. 'I've still got a business to run next week.'
'Patience, Moira. They'll get him.'
'Sam's right,' said Archie. 'You won't be here much longer.'
'We heard about Richard trying to run you over,' said Alice, guilt written all over her face.
Sam looked at Archie, who shrugged.
'They overheard me talking to the police,' he said quietly.
'And Alice heard him blab about someone following me,' added Moira, giving Archie a hard stare.
'Do you really think someone was following you?' asked Sam, suddenly overcome by a wave of exhaustion. 'I mean, now you've had time to think about it.'
Moira sighed.
'I don't know, Sam. I could have imagined it. I think we're all a bit paranoid right now.'
They all murmured in agreement. Sam drained his glass. He could already feel the alcohol working its magic on his pain.
'So, what happened to you today?' asked Alice, staring at the various bumps and bruises on his face. 'You look like-'
'Don't ask any questions,' said Moira, patting Alice reassuringly on the hand. 'That way you won't get any horrible answers.'
'I know, but-'
'Come on, lovely,' said Moira, giving Sam a wink as she got to her feet. 'It's time us girls got our beauty sleep.'
Sam watched in amusement as Moira practically lifted Alice out of the chair. Both women looked as tired as he felt.
'You're not going back home now, are you?' Alice asked him, frowning.
Sam glanced at Archie who gave him a subtle nod.
'No, I'll crash down h
ere tonight.'
'That's right,' grinned Archie. 'The more the merrier at a time like this. There's a spare room you can have, Sam.'
Alice nodded, satisfied. The men watched Moira lead her out of the kitchen. As soon as they disappeared, Archie nudged Sam enthusiastically in the side.
'Don't say a word,' Sam whispered. 'Moira's already-'
'Okay, son,' laughed Archie, pouring them each another drink. 'Has your day been as tough as it looks?'
Sam thought about the funeral. The altercation in the cemetery. The wild goose chase trying to hunt down Stephen Smith. Erica's sudden death.
'Yes, Arch. It's been quite a day.'
Chapter 20
Sam was up and out early next morning, strolling leisurely along the sea front. This was his favourite time of the day in Newgate. Hardly a soul around. The bracing air blowing inland off the sea. The sound of gulls squawking. He found the sheer desolation of it all quite something.
He thought of last night's dreams as he walked. The serene images of his wife and daughter, skipping happily through fields of brightly coloured flowers, turning back regularly to smile at him, calling for him to catch them up. He tried. God knows he tried, but in his dream, they were always too far out of reach. He had watched them slip away...
Then he dreamt of Geoffrey and Erica. Or their younger versions, at least. Out and about in pre-war Newgate, riding through the countryside on cumbersome bicycles, heading to secluded fields for picnics with their friends. His dreams were like old black and white movies, full of innocent teenagers drinking dandelion and burdock, chasing each other playfully in lush meadows, uninhibited by their starched collars or long, flowing dresses. They had been easy scenes for Sam to watch in his sleep.
Now, enjoying the fresh air and early morning solitude, he wondered again why someone would want to harm two elderly people.
***
Sam ran it through his head as he walked back to the pub.
If the deaths of Geoffrey and Erica were as suspicious as he believed, then logic decreed the pair had something in common. Something that had triggered this man's interest in them. The only ties he was aware of was Marjorie, being Geoffrey's wife and Erica's cousin, and the time they had known each other as youngsters. Marjorie wasn't around to provide any answers, so the only option was to dig around in the past.
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