by Jay Gill
“Barton.”
“Barton what?” asked Cotton.
“Just Barton.”
Barton stared at me, and for the first time I noticed the different colours of his eyes. This was without a doubt the man Mrs Montgomery had described. Where was his partner? I wondered.
“Fine, Barton,” said Cotton. “How about you tell us why you killed Edward Fischer.”
“He knows,” said Barton, nodding towards me.
“What do you mean?” said Cotton. She looked between Barton and me.
“I was there in case he didn’t fulfil his end of the deal. Which he didn’t. I’d say he’s in a world of bother now. Where I’m going will seem like a holiday camp compared to what’s in store for Detective Chief Inspector James Hardy.”
Cotton now stared openly at me, her brow furrowed in puzzlement. I couldn’t tell her about Lyle’s deal, and even if I could, this wasn’t the right time or place. Kelly Lyle would be coming for me and my family. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I knew she’d come, and when she did I would be ready. I had to be.
“We’ve got company,” said Tullock.
The harbour police came into view; the lights on their boat and the uniformed officers were a welcome sight. The Lady Margaret matched their speed, and we were escorted to the quayside, where Barton was taken away by waiting officers.
“Well, son, that was more excitement than I’ve had in quite some time,” said Tullock. He put out his hand and we shook. “That cowboy fella seemed pretty insistent that you have some stormy seas ahead of you. Are you going to be okay?”
“I hope so,” I said. “I had a choice to make, and I made it. Often the correct choice doesn’t look that way at the time.” I watched Cotton getting the cut on her head checked by a waiting paramedic. She winced as the wound was being cleaned.
“If I can ever be of service, just holler. A word of advice, though, if I may.” Tullock put a friendly hand on my shoulder then stroked his thick white beard before speaking. “As skipper, you’ll inevitably encounter treacherous storms at sea. These storms can come out of nowhere. Your duty as captain will be to decide a course of action. You need to consider which way to navigate. It’s important to understand that there are some storms you simply can’t sail through or outrun. Your job will be to find safe passage around them. Just remember that when you plot your course, the voyage will be scary as hell and you’ll need to pitch and roll with the waves. Be ready to brace yourself for all sorts of surprises. If you ever feel like all is lost, you need to fasten the hatches and redouble your efforts. Always remember, your primary concern is the welfare of your shipmates. Remember that, and you’ll be fine, son.” Tullock patted my shoulder, and I watched as he left me and walked over to Cotton. I chuckled to myself as I saw her face light up at his approach.
Chapter Seventy-Five
It was early and just before official visiting hours at the hospital. My heart was in my mouth as I came onto the hospital ward. I made my way to Jenny’s room, and there by her side, like a royal guard protecting his queen, was Rayner. I took a deep breath and entered the room.
As I approached, Rayner turned and looked at me. His face lit up. Without a word, he jumped up and put his huge arms around me and hugged me. I looked over his shoulder and could see Jenny propped up in bed. Her eyes were open and filled with emotion as she watched us.
Rayner cleared his throat. He had a big, broad grin on his face as he released me.
“She’s going to be okay. So is the baby. Jen opened her eyes early this morning. We’ve been talking for hours. She’s been asking after you and Monica ever since. I spoke to Monica a while ago. Is she with you?” I couldn’t believe my eyes. I leaned over the bed and held Jenny and kissed her. “I came straight here,” I told Rayner. “I haven’t been home yet.”
“You don’t know how great…” I started. My own emotions took over and I had to choke back the tears. “I’m sorry, Jenny. This is my fault. I’m so sorry.”
Jenny put her bandaged hand on my cheek and wiped away my tears. She looked me in the eye. “Nonsense,” she said, her voice a whisper. “Rayner explained everything. You’re not to blame. You were never to blame.”
“But your injuries…” I said.
“It’ll take a while, but I’ll get back on my feet. Just you watch me.” Jenny gave me one of her beautiful smiles, as though her injuries were nothing more than an inconvenience.
“I have no doubt,” I said.
“Here’s your better half,” said Rayner, turning towards the door. He was practically dancing with excitement.
I stepped aside and let Monica and Jenny see each other. There were more tears as the two embraced. Monica couldn’t contain her joy. “As soon as you’re ready, we need to go shopping for baby clothes. You know the way I like to shop, so it’ll mean plenty of stops for tea and cake. You hear me?”
“That’s my kind of shopping,” said Jenny. She looked around Monica. “Are Alice and Faith with you?”
“I didn’t think you’d be ready for those two just yet,” said Monica. “You can imagine the type of questions you’ll get from Faith. I also suspect Alice will be studying the doctor’s approach to your care. They will want to nurse you back to health themselves.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” said Jenny. She put out her hand, and Rayner sprang into action and passed her a glass of water. She sipped slowly.
“We’ll let you get some rest,” said Monica. “We’ll pop back this afternoon or this evening, if that’s okay?”
Jenny shook her head. “Will you stay for a bit, Mon? The boys can take a break.”
Rayner looked concerned, but Jenny was insistent. “You listen to me, Gabriel Rayner. I’m going to be fine. You’re my rock, and watching over me the way you have been is amazing, and I love you for it with all my heart, but right now I want you to take a break. I want you to look after yourself. Go with James and get something to eat before you waste away. Get a change of scenery. I want to talk to my girlfriend for a while. Go on, shoo!”
The big man looked forlorn, but he did as he was told.
“Come on, mate,” I said. “I’ll buy you some breakfast.”
“I’m not leaving the hospital.”
“That’s okay. Hospital canteen will do just fine.” I opened the door and led the way.
Chapter Seventy-Six
The hospital canteen was busy. The staff were working flat out and only just keeping up with orders. I put the tray down in the middle of the table and passed Rayner a large full English, a pot of tea and an orange juice. I put my decaf black coffee and full English down in front of me, then set the tray to one side.
Rayner stabbed the Lincolnshire sausage with his fork and practically swallowed it whole. He looked at me as he chewed. “You look like shit.”
“You can talk,” I replied. I dabbed my egg with a corner of the toast.
“Not much of a holiday. I think I’ll book Disney next time,” quipped Rayner.
“Yeah. I’m sorry, mate.” I could see he was trying his best to lighten the mood, so I added, “I didn’t even get a chance to do a barbecue and give you food poisoning.”
“Maybe next time?” Rayner shovelled beans and bacon into his mouth then washed them down with tea.
“Who says I’m inviting you back?”
“Who says I’d come back? Anyway, from what I hear, the accommodation will need more than a lick of paint before it can accept more guests.” Rayner cut up the mushrooms and scooped them into his mouth with some fried tomato.
“He’s dead,” I said. “Fischer’s dead.”
Rayner paused for a moment, then buttered more toast and ate it. “Good,” he said. “You’re not in any trouble?”
“No. Kelly Lyle wanted him dead. She sent two guys to make sure it happened. One of them is in custody; the other was discovered dead in a hotel room. It seems the pair argued over money. A large sum of cash has been recovered from their rental vehicle.”
I nodded. “I know what you mean.” We finished breakfast, and I bought Rayner some more toast and jam along with more tea. There was something else I needed to talk to him about, and I wanted to get it out of the way.
“I’m meeting Chief Webster tomorrow,” I said.
“You are?” Rayner leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Why would that be?” He grinned knowingly.
“Let’s just say retirement hasn’t worked out the way I’d planned.”
“You can say that again.”
“It seems I have too much unfinished business.”
“Does Monica know?”
“Yep. She’s one hundred percent behind the decision.”
“How’s it going to work with you down here in Dorset and the Met in London?”
“I spoke to Webster briefly on the phone. He wasn’t at all surprised at my decision to return. I guess I was the only one who thought I really would retire. He thinks he might have a solution that would mean I wouldn’t need to relocate. I’d hate to leave Dorset. Alice and Faith are settled into their new schools and have made friends, and we love living by the coast.”
“Well, it’s good to have you back.” Rayner smiled briefly. “I say that, yet I’m going to have to decide what I do next myself. Jen’s going to need care for a while to come. I can’t just up and leave her. I also don’t want her transferred to another hospital, at least not yet. This hospital understands her condition, and the treatment and facilities here are first class.”
“Depending on what happens in the meeting with Webster, perhaps we can figure something out.”
Rayner spread jam on his fourth slice of toast, which he washed down with tea. When he’d finished, he got to his feet. “It’s time I got back to Jen. It’s been good to talk, James. Made me feel like I’m back in the land of the living, at least for a little while.”
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Louise dabbed her eyes and blew her nose on a tissue as Cotton entered the interview room and took a seat opposite her. “Thank you for coming,” said Louise. She clenched her hands on the table and sat forward.
Cotton placed a clear plastic cup of water on the table and pushed it towards her. “I must remind you, Louise, you remain under caution,” Cotton said. “You’re facing very serious charges. You have the right to have your solicitor present.”
Louise nodded. “Yes, I understand. I don’t need my solicitor. I just want to talk to you.”
“Go ahead. I’m listening.” Cotton sat back in her chair and folded her arms. She thought about how, if the knife used on Alex had been a few inches either way, Louise would be facing a murder charge.
Louise cleared her throat and tried to control her wavering voice. “It isn’t how it looks. I didn’t hurt Alex.”
“You didn’t stab him in the stomach?”
“No.”
“The stab wound, and the stitches required, would suggest otherwise. Are you telling me that when the lab’s finished analysing the blood on your clothes, it won’t match Alex’s? What about your bloody prints on the knife? I suppose Alex is lying – is that what you’re saying?”
“He came to my house. He threatened me. Told me he’d kill me if I spoke to you again.”
“So, you stabbed him?”
“No,” said Louise. She looked down at the table.
“That doesn’t sound very convincing to me.”
“I’m exhausted,” said Louise.
“What I don’t understand is if Alex is as bad as you say he is, and you’re frightened of him, then why let him into your home in the first place? I mean, you told me I should stay away from him. That I was in danger. Yet, he comes to your home and you let him in. Why?”
“I… I… I…” stammered Louise. She looked down at the table again.
“This whole routine of yours is getting very tiresome, Louise. I know you were charged with assaulting Alex in the past. I’ve seen the report. Those charges were subsequently dropped when Alex refused to press charges. You’ve got away with assault once; it won’t happen a second time, I can promise you that.”
“You’re not listening to me,” said Louise.
“I’m looking at the facts.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Are you telling me how to do my job?”
“You’re not doing your job. You’re listening to him.”
“It seems everyone else is to blame except you, Louise.”
Louise smashed her clenched fists down hard on the table. It shook and her voice boomed. “For fuck’s sake, why won’t you listen? I’m the victim.” Her eyes were wide with frustration.
Cotton sat back and stared at Louise. She let the outburst hang in the air for a moment. “There it is. It seems you’ve found your voice, Louise. That’s quite a temper you have.”
Louise gathered her thoughts. “The truth is,” said Louise, softly now, “I love Alex. I can’t help myself. I forgive him. Then I hate myself when the monster inside him returns.” Louise started picking at the table, her nail clawing at a chip in the surface. “You see, I love the good, kind Alex. The attentive, gentle, tender Alex. That’s who came to my house. He’s the one I let into my home. I won’t lie. A part of me is jealous. I wonder if he really has changed. I’d hate to think he’s changed, and it’s you that gets him and not me. You don’t know the good Alex like I know him.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened? The truth.”
Louise stopped scratching at the table and wiped it over with her hand. She looked up at Cotton and sighed plaintively.
“Alex told me I was to stay away from the two of you. That he wanted to keep you. That you were special. That you were his and nobody would come between you. If anyone tried, they’d regret it. I could see he meant it. The way he said it scared me. Like you were his possession.”
Louise tucked her hair behind her ear, tilted her head and looked Cotton in the eye. “That’s when he took the knife out of the drawer. I thought he was going to kill me, but he turned the knife on himself. He held the tip of the blade to his shirt, and then he pressed the blade hard and pushed it in. He looked at me the whole time. I swear, I didn’t touch him.”
“Your bloody prints are on the knife,” said Cotton.
“I must have moved the knife with blood on my hands. I don’t remember; I was trying to stop his bleeding. I took a tea towel and pressed it to the wound.”
“You realise that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he stab himself? He might have bled to death.”
“Don’t you see? He wants it to look like I’m the crazy one. He doesn’t want anyone to believe me. But you must believe me.”
Cotton shook her head. “Alex claims he was at the house to ask you to move on. To give him his life back. That you didn’t want to talk about it on the doorstep. That you insisted he come inside to talk. And that once he was inside, you became abusive. Screamed at him in a jealous rage. He says he tried to leave and you then came at him with the knife. That you stabbed him. Then, shocked by what you’d done, you made him swear to say he’d accidently stabbed himself. That you’d only call an ambulance once he agreed.” Cotton watched Louise’s reaction closely. “Does that version of events ring any bells?”
“Christ almighty, he’s got you wrapped around his finger. It doesn’t matter what I say, does it? You’ve fallen for him, and you’re so focused on your happy-ever-after that you can’t see the truth.”
“What I see is someone who manipulates and bullies to get what she wants, and when she doesn’t get it, she lashes out. I only wish this was my case, but it’s not. If it were, I’d be pushing for attempted murder. I’m
going to be making sure Alex is free of you once and for all. He won’t get scared this time, and he won’t withdraw the charges. I’ll give him all the support he needs. He deserves his life back; he deserves to be happy. And as for you… Alex is going to make sure everyone sees you for who you really are. He’s going to expose your lies.”
Cotton got up and walked out without looking back.
Louise thumped the table with her fists then swiped the clear plastic cup of water off it. The water splashed across the floor and up the wall. She yelled after Cotton. “You have no idea what’s coming. No idea at all.”
Chapter Seventy-Eight
I returned to the quayside and looked out across the water to Brownsea Island. It was early evening and the sun was still strong, warming my body as I watched boats queuing before the bridge was raised.
Behind me, a row of impressive gleaming motorcycles belonging to an enthusiasts’ club lined the street. Passers-by stopped and pointed. The owners lined the low wall while enjoying refreshments and chatting.
The scene looked different to when I had been here last, when the music festival had been in full swing. I thought about Jessica, who only days before had performed to an audience that for the first and only time had included her father. I thought about Fischer and the choices he had made, which had finally led to his being murdered by Barton. Barton himself had now been charged with the murders of both his partner, Donny Dodd, and Fischer. Investigations were ongoing into all the murders committed by Barton and Dodd, including those of Timothy Spicer, Judy Primmer, a PC and a witness to the crime.
I thought about Moon during her interviews; she had appeared genuinely grief-stricken by Fischer’s death. She hadn’t seemed to care that she would be charged with aiding and abetting his escape.
“Penny for your thoughts.” I turned to find Lyle eating an ice cream. She took out the chocolate flake, scooped ice cream onto the end of it and bit it off. She was a brunette this time, and her hair was wavy. She wore a tweed jacket and blue jeans. “I’m leaving for a while. A celebration, if you will. Cuba has been calling me. Sienna has never been, and I want to show her the romance of the country. Also, the mojitos and daiquiris are to die for.” She tossed her ice cream into the sea and wiped her hands on a tissue. “We’ll send you a postcard.”