by Alison James
She nodded, sipping her coffee. Stuart summoned the waitress and ordered.
‘I really just asked you here to say goodbye,’ Rachel told him. ‘I’m flying back to London this evening. Finally.’
‘Case all tied up now, is it?’
She rocked her hand to and fro. ‘More or less.’
‘Well, I’m very glad you contacted me before you left. Because I have some news of my own.’
His excitement was infectious, and Rachel found herself grinning. ‘Go on…’
‘Claire continued feeling unwell after her miscarriage… she went to her gynaecologist to be checked and she was told she was still pregnant. Still pregnant’ His voice broke slightly. ‘She’d been carrying twins. She lost one of them, but the other…’
Rachel’s eyes widened. ‘Go on…’
‘The second baby’s doing fine. We’re going to be parents in the new year after all.’
* * *
The Operation Honeycomb incident room was being dismantled. Brickall and Rachel stood and watched as the whiteboard was wiped, the computers unplugged and the files taken away to be archived.
A noise behind them grew louder as its source got closer. A familiar phlegmy cough and the whiff of a vape.
‘Yous two still here?’ Sillars croaked. She bent double as her diminutive body was wracked with another bout of coughing.
‘Those fags really are doing you the world of good, Morag,’ Brickall said. ‘By the sound of it you’re on track to live to a hundred.’
‘Shut it!’ she rasped. ‘I just came to say goodbye and good riddance. I cannae say I’m going to miss having poncey London detectives stealing all my officers and making the place look untidy.’
‘The feeling’s mutual,’ Rachel said, but she was smiling.
‘I also wanted to tell you that I’ve spoken with the Procurator Fiscal’s office, and now that Hazel MacBain has been charged with the manslaughter of her husband, there’ll be no further enquiry into the circumstances surrounding her arrest. Which means this: the two of you piss-artists may have been out of order going out to the house without adequate manpower, but as far as Police Scotland’s concerned, it stops here. I managed to bury it.’
‘Thank you Morag.’ Brickall gave her his most boyish smile.
She poked a finger at him. ‘But you’re no forgiven for that fag joke, sunshine! Who wants tae live to a hundred anyway?’
‘Fair point.’
‘I fully intend to smoke myself to death, and ah’ll do so quite happily, thank you.’
‘I gather Candlish and Coulter have both pleaded not guilty,’ said Rachel. ‘So we may be back before you know it to give evidence at their trials.’
Sillars rolled her eyes.
‘And the Joint Operations Cell are going to continue pursuing the Edinburgh paedophile network on the dark web. So I’ll be keeping you updated about that from time to time.’
‘Aye, well.’ Sillars looked almost emotional, faking another coughing fit to hide it. ‘Forensics have just told me the skin cells under Iveta’s fingernails are definitely a match with Dushku’s DNA. Interpol have issued a red notice for him, so as soon as they catch up with him, he’s off to the big house for a life term.’
Rachel gave her a brief nod.
‘And ah just wanted to say that was a great piece of investigation. Your work on the deaths of those two kids.’ Sillars exhaled vapour like a diminutive dragon, almost smiling. ‘Good job.’
Forty-Two
Rachel looked up at the handsome red-brick facade of the Dutch Embassy with a sense of disbelief. Back to the exact place where this all started, she thought. Only two months had passed, but it felt like two years.
‘Are you ready?’ asked Nigel Patten. He took in her smart navy skirt suit, her hair swept into a French pleat, and her heels.
‘I think so. It feels pretty strange.’
Patten gave her shoulder a paternal squeeze. ‘I’m proud of you.’
They were led into one of the Embassy’s formal function rooms, all gilt furniture, framed royal portraits and velvet drapes. And there – watched by Patten, Dries and Annemarie van Meijer, Luuk Rynsberger, his parents and a handful of diplomatic staff – Rachel walked up a short length of carpet towards His Excellency Carolus Visser.
‘I have great pleasure in awarding you the Orde van Oranje-Nassau – the Order of Orange-Nassau – in recognition of the way you have carried out your duties on behalf of our citizens.’ He pinned a blue-and-white enamelled chivalric cross onto Rachel’s lapel, bending to kiss her on both cheeks. The tension of the moment was broken by one of his attachés sending a champagne cork ricocheting into one of the floor-to-ceiling windows with a resounding crack.
Annemarie van Meijer embraced Rachel warmly. ‘Thank you so much, DI Prince. For all you have done for our precious girl.’
Rachel thought of Emily, and then thought of her own son, and felt tears prickle in the corners of her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry that her story ended the way it did. What we found out… it wasn’t an outcome that could give you any comfort.’
‘Oh but it did,’ Annemarie assured her. ‘Because now at least we don’t need to wonder why, and we can begin to come to terms with losing her. We don’t have to think that she wanted to leave us.’
Dries van Meijer shook Rachel’s hand. ‘Anything we can ever do for you, just say. We’re forever in your debt.’
Patten paused to admire the Order before he and Rachel got into the car that was going to take them both back to Tinworth Street. ‘Apparently, it’s a bit like a Dutch OBE,’ he said, making the cross sparkle as he turned it to and fro in the October sunshine. ‘A very fine thing to have. Well done.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘I don’t know whether you’ve heard, but Giles Denton has resigned from his post at the NCA.’
Rachel stared out of the car window so that he couldn’t see the expression on her face. ‘I hadn’t, sir, no.’
‘It was very sudden, apparently. You wouldn’t happen to know why?’
‘No. I’m afraid I don’t.’ Rachel crossed her fingers behind her back, and hoped that Patten would never get round to checking Fairlie’s statement.
‘Yes, well… on a more positive note, you may be hearing from the Inspectors Branch of the Police Federation,’ he said, as the car slid out into the traffic on Kensington Gore. ‘There may be promotions to Chief Inspector available before too long. Not that it’s easy to get through that recruitment board though. In fact, it’s very challenging.’
She smiled at him. ‘I’m sure. But then so is anything worthwhile.’
Epilogue
December 2017
‘Everybody – this is Joe.’
Rachel led her son into the living room at her mother’s house in Purley. Her mother, wearing her best apron, looked as though she might faint from pleasure. She darted forward and gave her grandson a hug, then disappeared into the kitchen, flapping about finishing the icing on a specially baked cake.
‘Welcome, Joe.’ Rachel’s brother-in-law Gordon stepped forward and gave Joe a brief handshake, and for once Rachel was grateful for his customary reticence. Her nephew, Tom, raised his hand in a barely visible wave of greeting and her niece Laura mouthed a shy ‘Hi’.
‘It’s lovely to finally meet you, Joe,’ said Lindsay, bustling forward to kiss him on both cheeks. ‘It’s—’
Rachel shot her a look and she backed away without completing her sentence, which was undoubtedly going to be something along the lines of ‘It’s a shame we had to wait eighteen years.’
Joe shuffled his feet awkwardly, unsure what to do. When Rachel sat on the sofa he took his cue from her and perched next to her. Dolly trotted into the room, squirming with delight when she saw Rachel, followed by Eileen Prince pushing a hostess trolley. Joe, who had clearly never seen one before, widened his eyes at the sight of this mobile cornucopia of baked goods, then caught sight of Rachel watching his expression. The two of them suppressed lau
ghter as if in on a private joke, which led to pursing of the lips by Lindsay.
‘I’ve done coffee cake, Joe,’ Eileen said anxiously. ‘But I know not everyone likes it, in which case there’s Battenberg, or shortbread…’
‘I love cake,’ Joe reassured her. ‘All cake.’
Lindsay poured them all tea and half an hour of polite small talk ensued, lightened by Dolly’s benign presence. Joe gamely endured a grilling from Lindsay about his academic achievements, and ignored the veiled comparisons with Tom.
Finally, Gordon and Lindsay drove their children away to take part in some wholesome activity, and Rachel was left to help Eileen clear up the tea things while Joe walked Dolly round the block.
Eileen grasped her daughter’s arm. ‘Oh Rachel, he’s wonderful!’
‘Yes, I think so too. Although I’m a bit biased.’
‘And he’s so like you.’
‘Do you think so?’ Rachel was genuinely surprised. When she looked at Joe she mostly saw Stuart.
‘Oh yes, very much so. And he’s got your spirit, I can tell.’
Once the washing-up was done, Eileen gathered up Dolly’s bowls, lead and accessories and put them in a bag. ‘You’re sure you’ll be all right with her? Make sure she wears her coat when it’s cold.’
‘She’ll be fine Mum, don’t worry.’
‘I’ll miss her dreadfully.’
‘Mum! It’s only five days.’
With Dolly on the back seat of the car, she drove Joe to East Croydon station, to catch his train back to Sussex.
‘Well, that was…’
‘… awkward as hell.’
Joe finished the sentence for her, and she laughed. ‘But I guess it was always going to be. And now it’s out of the way, things should be easier from here on in.’
As they headed onto the platform, she took a small box from her pocket, wrapped in red paper and tied with a green ribbon. Inside were silver cufflinks, monogrammed with ‘JBT’.
‘I know it’s a bit early, but since I won’t see you at Christmas, I thought I’d give you this now.’
He looked down at the parcel with an anxious expression. ‘But I haven’t got anything to give you.’
She smiled at him, the broadest of smiles. ‘Oh, you’ve given me more than enough already. More than I could ever have hoped for.’
* * *
Rachel drove round the South Circular to Forest Hill. She parked outside Brickall’s flat and rang his doorbell.
‘Somebody here to see you.’
‘Dolly!’ He knelt down next to her and she plonked her paws on his shoulders, her tail quivering with delight. ‘Hello, baby girl!’ He kissed her repeatedly on the top of her silky head. ‘And look how smart you are!’ He pointed to her blue and green tartan coat.
‘My mum’s going down to Torquay for a few days with her gardening club, so I said I’d take her. Thought you might fancy a walk.’
‘I’ll grab my coat.’
Brickall ran back down the stairs a few minutes later in his waxed jacket and a trapper hat, and the three of them set out along Dartmouth Road to Crystal Palace Park, past windows lit by sparkling Christmas lights. It was almost dark, but there were a few remaining families heading back from their Saturday afternoon outings, dressed in colourful scarves, bobble hats and gloves.
They walked in silence round the upper lake, with Dolly trotting happily at their heels. ‘Bit like being back in Scotland,’ Brickall said at last. ‘Bloody cold enough anyway.’
‘Do you miss it?’ Rachel asked.
‘What, working with Morag? Nah,’ he scoffed. ‘Well, maybe just a tiny bit. It had its moments.’
‘It certainly did.’
‘And you ended up with the Dutch Order of the Garter, or whatever the hell it is. Who’d have thought it.’
‘It’s only an honorary title, seeing as I’m not a Dutch citizen.’
‘Whatever next, Prince – Chief Constable?’
‘Don’t be a plank, Brickall.’ She paused a beat. ‘Although, Patten did make noises about promotion to Chief Inspector being on the cards.’
‘Fucking hell.’ He gave her a sidelong glance. ‘You’ll be even more unbearable than you are already.’
The light had almost completely left the sky, leaving it streaked with crimson and purple. They turned and headed back towards the flat. Without looking at Rachel, Brickall said: ‘I heard Denton left CEOP.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Heard he went back to Ireland.’
Rachel nodded slowly. ‘He did.’
‘Bit of a shame, isn’t it? Given you and he were—’ He caught sight of Rachel’s expression and swallowed what he was about to say, simply asking, ‘Did he say how long he was going for?’
Rachel hesitated. ‘No,’ she said. ‘He didn’t.’
Brickall gave her a sharp look. ‘But you really liked him.’
She nodded slowly. ‘I did. I liked him a lot.’
‘So maybe you should head over to Dublin?’
Rachel shook her head. ‘I’ve got more important things to do. I’ve got a kid now, remember?’
She didn’t mention that once her initial anger had died down, she had tried phoning Denton but his number – the NCA-issued mobile, which was all she had – was now out of service.
‘And you’ve got a promotion to chase,’ Brickall reminded her.
‘And your useless arse to keep in line!’ As she swatted him playfully on the arm, her phone rang. It was work.
‘Who was that?’ Brickall asked, after she’d ended the call.
‘Interpol in Belgium have picked up Gjerji Dushku. They want someone from our end to head out there to question him.’
Brickall grinned. ‘That’ll be us then. Or maybe a girls’ trip – you and Morag Sillars.’
‘I guess we should ask her if she wants to come along. Only fair.’
‘Either way, we’d better get our backsides over to the office immediately.’
They both quickened their pace as they walked up the road, Dolly trotting happily between them.
If you were gripped by Now She’s Gone, you can read the first nail-biting book in the Detective Rachel Prince series, Lola is Missing. Or sign up for news about new books by Alison James here!
Lola is Missing
Detective Rachel Prince Book 1
‘I was hooked from page one and couldn’t put it down until I’d reached the end. The twists and turns just keep coming… will have you gasping in surprise.’ Goodreads Reviewer, 5 stars
* * *
ORDER NOW!
* * *
The little girl stirred and opened her eyes. A light from the landing played a shadow across her toy cupboard. It was then she realised… There was someone else in the room.
* * *
Michelle Harper’s world is shattered when six-year-old Lola Jade is stolen from the safety of her own bedroom. She says her ex-husband has taken their daughter. Lola’s father denies it was him.
* * *
Family, friends and neighbours all say they didn’t see a thing. But someone must know where the little girl is. Who is lying? And who is telling the truth?
* * *
Detective Rachel Prince knows the longer a child is missing, the less likely they are to be found alive.
* * *
Can Rachel find Lola Jade, before it’s too late?
* * *
Truly addictive from start to finish, Lola Is Missing is a nail-biting crime thriller that will shock you with the final heart-stopping twist. Perfect for fans of Angela Marsons, Peter James and Karin Slaughter.
* * *
ORDER NOW!
Alison’s Email Sign-Up
Want to keep up to date with Alison’s latest releases? Sign up here!
* * *
We promise to never share your email with anyone else, and we’ll only contact you when there’s a new book out.
Also by Alison James
Lola is Missing
I want to say a huge thank you for choosing to read Now She’s Gone. If you enjoyed reading it and would like to keep up to date with all my latest releases, just sign up using the link below. Your email address will never be shared, and you can unsubscribe at any time.
Sign up here!
It’s been incredibly rewarding taking Rachel Prince on this second investigation, and developing her journey in an unexpected direction. There are more exacting cases and further personal challenges ahead for her.
If you loved Now She’s Gone, I would be very grateful if you could write a review. I love hearing what readers like most about the characters and story, and it really helps new readers discover my books for the first time.
I also love hearing from readers – so do get in touch via my Facebook page, Twitter, Goodreads or my website.
Published by Bookouture
* * *
An imprint of StoryFire Ltd.
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London EC4Y 0DZ
* * *
www.bookouture.com
Copyright © Alison James 2018
* * *