‘This man, the father, was one of those at the very top,’ she continued obliquely. ‘The woman was his mistress – who, although disturbed was apparently very beautiful – with whom he occasionally spent the night. Not unusual in those circles, and perfectly acceptable as long as appearances were maintained. It was believed that if a scandal broke around him, of this magnitude, it could rock the very bedrock of this country. Certain security agencies were charged with covering the matter up. It all went on record as a domestic tragedy. A deranged mother, under the influence of drugs and alcohol, killed her children and then herself.’
Nobby stared at Vogel, as if trying to gauge his reaction. He tried not to react again. Not yet.
‘You notice I said children, Vogel?’
He nodded.
‘Yes. It was decided that the cleanest way to clear the matter up was to kill off the entire family. Only the father would not hear of any actual harm being done to his surviving daughter. So Jane was put up for adoption, to someone trusted to keep the whole thing under wraps. She was only six. And she was so shocked by what happened, that she seemed to wipe the whole episode out of her mind. Which suited everybody—’
‘Why would anyone agree to adopt a child and help cover something like that up, to keep such a terrible, dangerous secret?’ interrupted Vogel. ‘It doesn’t make sense to me.’
‘In certain areas of society, where the wider repercussions of a scandal breaking could be so very grave, this sort of thing is far from unheard of,’ replied Nobby. ‘Camilla’s husband, Colonel Parker Bowles was complicit for years in covering up her affair with the Prince of Wales—’
‘As far as I remember the prince has never been suspected of killing anyone,’ Vogel interrupted again.
‘Oh, all right, Vogel,’ responded Nobby briskly. ‘Just listen, will you! Taking into account her age, and the immensity of the shock she had suffered, it was hoped that Jane would never remember her previous life, in particular the night her mother and her sister died. Indeed, the mental health professionals who dealt with her at the time thought it unlikely that she ever would. But the security services kept an eye on her, just in case. After her adopted mother died and she married, Gerry Barham was entrusted with the job. On a need to know basis. He never knew the full story, or he might have been more aware of the danger in reporting back about Jane’s dreams. He was a semi-retired spook, of course, of the deskbound boffin type. MI6 seconded to GCHQ, most of the time.’
Vogel realized he was once again beginning to blink rapidly. He so wished he didn’t do that.
‘Danger is an understatement,’ he said. ‘The bastards killed Jane Ferguson, and Gerry Barham, and we are letting them get away with it.’
‘I’m going to say it again, Vogel. Jane Ferguson committed suicide. Gerry Barham’s death was a stupid accident. And what looked like an attack on Sam Ferguson was also an accident—’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ interrupted Vogel. ‘For a start, Jimmy Granger, or whatever his real name is, had Barham’s phone on him when we arrested him, and undoubtedly sent a text to Sam Ferguson enticing him to the old chapel near Eastleigh. Where we nabbed him red-handed.’
‘Granger found the phone at the yacht club and was intending to return it to Gerry Barham. The text was sent before he found it. He was at the chapel because of his interest in ecclesiastical architecture.’
‘Boss, you are talking errant nonsense, and you know it.’
‘Perhaps, but this is the official version of what happened, and I honestly believe that if we had persisted in opening that other can of worms this whole country could descend into anarchy. I was only told what lay behind it all because the powers that be reckoned it was the only way they could get me to call you off and stop the investigation. It worked too. Look around you, Vogel. There is a big republican movement in the country nowadays, and, thanks to Brexit and no Brexit, what passes for our government is in crisis. Confidence in our so-called democracy is probably at the lowest ebb in modern times.’
‘Who are “the powers that be” in this, boss? Who got you to call off our investigation?’
‘I really can’t tell you that, Vogel. It was somebody I would never have expected to be involved. I was summoned to London late last night.’
Vogel was thoughtful.
‘What are you thinking, Vogel? I do hope you are going to go along with this. You know how much it goes against my grain. But we have no choice.’
‘I was thinking, what members of our extended royal family would have been at the right age to be sowing their wild oats thirty-odd years ago, when Jane Ferguson was conceived.’
‘Let’s get this straight, Vogel. I did not say the father was anything to do with our royal family. I have not and cannot specify who he is. Not even to you. Neither did I give any indication of his age when Jane was conceived.’
‘No, you didn’t give any indication of his age, did you, boss? And that opens up all manner of interesting possibilities, too.’
Nobby Clarke sighed, a tad theatrically.
‘Vogel, I need to know, are you on side or not?’
‘What will you do if the answer is no, have me bumped off too?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Vogel. You’re a police officer doing his job, and I am the senior officer who put you on the case—’
‘Except neither of us are doing our job, are we?’ interrupted Vogel.
‘Let me finish,’ continued Clarke. ‘You are also the one copper I respect more than any other, and that’s why I want and need you to understand the decisions I have taken. Nobody needs to be “bumped off”, as you put it. Everything is being arranged. There really is no case for Jimmy Granger or anybody else to answer. That’s how it has to be.’
Vogel felt quite desolate.
‘I’m on side, boss,’ he announced suddenly. ‘Like you said, I don’t have any choice.’
EPILOGUE
Sam Ferguson told his wife everything. He had no choice, either. She would not leave him, of course. But neither would she ever forgive him. His only son also made it clear that he would never forgive his father. And that he was going to leave.
Right after his release from police custody Felix Ferguson told his parents that he intended to take his children away and build a new life for them somewhere many miles from North Devon and their terrible memories. Felix said his mother would always be welcome, wherever he went. But he never again wanted to see the father without whose complicity in the surveillance operation at his home, he believed his wife would still be alive.
Felix was the one person who might have been expected to pursue every possible avenue of protest when Jane’s death was suddenly dismissed as suicide – particularly given all that he knew about events surrounding it, including the surveillance operation at his home and the arrest of Jimmy Granger. But he did not do so.
Felix no longer cared about anything except his children’s future. And, for their sake, he wanted the past buried almost as much as those who had summarily called a halt to Vogel’s investigation.
In addition, Felix was quite sure that in not making a fuss, and therefore protecting his children from unknown further consequences, he was doing what Jane, the most devoted of mothers, would have wanted.
Anne Barham immediately made plans to sell her house in Estuary Vista Close and look for a flat in suburban London close to her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson. She did not wish to remain in Instow for a moment longer than she had to.
Her dream retirement with the husband she had loved for most of her adult life had ended in a way she could never have imagined. A truly horrific way. Anne grieved for Gerry dreadfully, in spite of feeling betrayed by him. She’d really never had any idea that he’d worked for MI6, and it still seemed barely possible to her that her quiet unassuming husband had been some sort of spy.
Jimmy Granger ceased to exist almost immediately after his release from custody. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed man, who had been known by that name, parked hi
s Land Rover Defender outside a motorway service station motel on the M4, not far from Heathrow, picked up a brown leather bag that had been left for him at reception, and checked into his pre-booked room.
A few hours later he left the motel and set off for the airport by taxi. He now appeared to be completely bald, and his eyes, without the tinted contact lenses he’d previously been wearing, were a murky grey rather than strident blue. The picture in the passport which had been in the brown leather bag – along with a new credit card, a considerable sum of cash, some clothes, and a few other necessities – matched his new appearance exactly.
Immediately after Nobby Clarke’s revelatory visit, David Vogel sat down and wrote a letter of resignation to his superior officer, Detective Superintendent Reg Hemmings.
Only when he had finished did he consider his wife and his daughter, and her special needs. Vogel had joined the police force when he was eighteen. He had never had another job. He had no professional skill other than being a policeman. He had no other source of income.
Perhaps even more importantly, he knew no other way of life.
He sat looking at the letter, which he had folded neatly and placed inside a plain white envelope, for several minutes.
Then he ripped it up.
The following morning he reported for duty at Kenneth Steele House. It was what he did. There was nothing else. It was what David Vogel would always do.
Dreams of Fear Page 29