by Philip Cox
Tom nodded his thanks and led Amy back to the Ka. Fortunately, the ground was dry and he was able to reverse back up to the driveway. Sykes’s Land Rover had gone. Back on the driveway, the motion sensor picked them up, and the gates slid open.
Tom turned left into Hemley Lane and drove off. As they approached the Village of Little Newbourne, his mobile bleeped.
‘Looks like I’ve got a signal again,’ Tom said.
‘Shall I check it?’ Amy asked, leaning over to reach his pocket.
‘Don’t bother. I’ll have a look when we stop.’
‘Stop?’
‘Pit stop. Although not for a while. I want to get as far away as we possibly can before I stop.’
‘How do you feel?’ Amy asked.
Tom paused before replying. ‘Okay, I guess. I suppose now I’ve got some kind of closure. Thanks.’
‘For what?’
‘For asking. And for all you did.’
‘Thank me tonight. Then help me find a new job.’
*****
They were several miles down the A12 when Tom finally stopped. He saw what he thought was a Little Chef sign, but the restaurant had closed and the premises empty. But there was a petrol station adjacent and they were able to visit the WC and buy a sandwich there. Tom also bought some petrol.
‘Check your phone,’ Amy said as they got back into the car.
The message on the phone said there was a missed call. Tom checked further. ‘It was from Pawel Walczak,’ he laughed. ‘Talk about after the event.’
‘Did he leave a message?’
Tom nodded as he listened to the message Walczak left.
‘Well?’ she asked as he finished listening.
‘Just that he was returning our call. Sorry for the delay in coming back to us. We can call him back when we like. No time like the present,’ he added, as he dialled.
‘Hello Pawel; it’s Tom Raymond here. Thanks for calling back earlier.’
‘……….’
‘Yes, that’s right. I’m Lisa’s ex-husband. I assume you know that she died -’
‘……….’
‘Thank you very much. Yes, it was a shock. That’s really why I called you.’
‘……….’
‘Well, to cut a long story short, we didn’t accept the inquest verdict that she committed suicide, so we have been - well, investigating her death. It’s quite complex, but we have had it confirmed that she was murdered. It was to do with some criminal activity going on at where she worked.’
‘……….’
‘But, how -?’ Amy looked over at Tom: he had gone pale.
‘……….’
‘We need to speak about this. Can we come and see you?’
‘……….’
‘Is this evening all right?’
‘……….’
‘Yes, I’ve got the address. Earls Court?’
‘……….’
‘Thanks. We’ll be with you in a couple of hours. Goodbye.’
He hung up and looked at Amy, ashen.
‘What is it? What did he say?’
Tom swallowed. ‘I said to him - well, you heard what I said. He then said no, that wasn’t the case.’
‘What wasn’t?
‘He said he has always known she was murdered. But not to do with work.’
‘Not..?’
‘He says her death was nothing to do with what she uncovered at CitiMarket. He says he has evidence she was killed by someone else.’
Chapter Forty-Six
‘Are we driving straight there?’ Amy asked, as the Ford Ka reached seventy-five.
‘Going to have to, if we’re going to get there when I said we would,’ replied Tom, grimly.
‘Do you know the way?’
‘You’ll need to get the A to Z out when we hit the North Circular.’
Amy reached back and rested the street atlas on her lap. ‘So,’ she said, slowly as if trying to work out what was going on, ‘I take it he knew all about what was going on at CitiMarket.’
‘Said he did. Said Lisa told him everything. But she also told him about something else, and that’s what got her killed.’
‘What could it be?’
‘How the hell would I know?’ Tom snapped.
Amy said nothing; just looked out of the window.
‘Sorry,’ Tom said a few moments later, as he overtook a convoy of farm vehicles. ‘Didn’t mean to snap. It’s just getting to me, that’s all. After all we’ve gone through…’
‘Did he say who he is? You know, how he knew Lisa?’
‘No. he just said they knew each other.’
‘Perhaps he was a boyfriend. Sorry.’
‘I don’t mind. We were over long ago. But - I would like to know. And I would like to know what this evidence is that he said he had.’
‘Lots to ask him.’
‘Lots. And I’ll bet anything you like that she was on her way to see him. Had to be.’
‘M25 next,’ Amy said. ‘Won’t be long to the North Circular.’
‘Which means it’ll be dark long before we get there. Shit.’
‘Shit?’
‘Having to drive somewhere I’ve never been in Central London in the dark.’
‘At least it’s Sunday night. No rush hour.’
‘Yeah. That’s something. My lucky night.’
*****
Forty-five minutes later, it had got fully dark and they left the A12 and joined the A406 North Circular. Despite the odd section where there was a queue, the traffic, although not light, was moving steadily.
‘You just follow this,’ Amy directed, ‘right round to Hanger Lane. Then turn left onto the A40.’ She had to periodically open the glove compartment and use the light from there to see the A to Z.
‘Turn right here, down the A3220,’ she said as they approached North Kensington. It was now almost six. Through Shepherd’s Bush, past Olympia, over the A4. ‘Once you get to the tube station, his road’s the next left.’
‘Okay,’ Tom replied, concentrating on the traffic. ‘Then we’ll have to find somewhere to park.’
Penywern Road seemed to appear out of nowhere. Tom had to brake sharply, earning him a blast from the horn of the taxi behind. He indicated left, and turned into Walczak’s road.
‘Now we have to find 23B,’ he said, peering up at the large houses.
‘I can’t make out any numbers,’ Amy said, doing the same on her side of the street. ‘It’s not a very long road; just park anywhere.’
No spaces anywhere in Penywern Road.
‘Shit,’ Tom muttered. ‘I’ll try over there.’
He crossed over Earls Court Road, and into Barkston Gardens. After one short block, there was a small park. Tom saw a parking space there.
‘Just as well we’ve got a small car,’ he said as he secured the handbrake and switched off the engine. I’ll go get a ticket; there’s a machine over there.’
Tom bought a ticket, fastened it to the inside of the windscreen, and they started to walk back towards Earls Court.
‘Looks like it’s starting to rain,’ Amy said, looking up at the sky.
Tom looked up, and pulled his coat collar. ‘No; it looks like it’s starting to snow. Get’s better and better.’
‘Maybe it’s just sleet,’ Amy said, putting her arm through Tom’s.
They crossed back over Earls Court Road, and along Penywern Road. The houses this side of the road were even numbered, so they crossed over to the other side. They soon reached number 23.
These houses were very large, three stories high. Once well sought after, but had seen better days. They walked up the steps to the front door and Tom studied the bells on the side of the doorway. He pressed the one for Flat B.
‘Hello?’ Came a voice from the intercom.
‘Pawel?’ Tom spoke back into it. ‘It’s Tom Raymond.’
‘Come on in,’ came the voice. ‘Ground floor, end of the hall.’
They pushed the doo
r open and stepped in. The layout was similar to Amy’s house, but this one was larger, and the architecture more ostentatious. A figure stood at the end of the hall, outside a door. He was short, about Amy’s height, very thin, with shoulder-length blond hair. Late twenties, Tom guessed.
‘Hello,’ he said, offering his hand. ‘Pawel. Pawel Walczak.’
‘Tom. Tom Raymond,’ replied Tom, shaking his hand. ‘And this is Amy Spicer.’
‘Come in, please,’ Walczak said, leading them in. He led them through a small lobby into a large room. It was dominated by a sofa, which must have been a bed settee. A sink, cooker and washing machine were on one wall, adjacent to an open door which led to the bathroom. A large flat screen television was resting on a dressing table opposite the sofa.
‘Can I get you anything?’ Walczak asked. ‘Coffee, tea, water?’
‘Tea for me please,’ said Amy.
‘Just a glass of water, if you have it,’ Tom said. ‘Is it okay if I..?’ He indicated to the bathroom.
‘Please do. Please do.’ Walczak started filling the kettle.
In the bathroom, Tom could hear the others talking.
‘Are you Polish?’ Amy asked.
‘I was born in the UK,’ he replied. ‘But my parents originally came from Warsaw. They came over here some years before I was born. Please; sit down,’ he added as Tom joined them.
They indulged in some small talk while the kettle boiled: did they come by tube; where they parked. He passed Tom his water and Amy her tea and sat on the floor opposite them.
‘I’m glad you came,’ he said. ‘With hindsight, I should have expected someone to call a little earlier.’
Tom said, ‘We got your number from Lisa’s sister.’
‘From Jane?’
‘You know Jane?’ Tom asked.
‘Knew of her. Lisa spoke about her.’
‘We weren’t sure if the number we had was right,’ Amy said.
‘Ah yes. I’m sorry about that. I’ve had some problems with my mobile. A dispute with the phone company. All sorted out now, but I couldn’t use the phone for a few days.’
‘I see,’ said Tom. ‘We’ve got some questions to ask you.’
Walczak nodded.
‘The first,’ Tom continued, ‘is how you knew Lisa.’
‘We were friends.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Lisa mentioned once she had been married. Are you..?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘In that case, I am very sorry. For your loss, I mean. She was a wonderful person.’
‘She was. Thanks.’
‘I miss her too. We were friends. We met a while ago - doesn’t matter how, but we both found we could talk to each other openly and frankly. I told her things I would never tell anybody else, and she told me things that were personal to her.’
‘Oh.’ Tom shifted awkwardly in his seat. Amy suppressed a grin.
‘Don’t worry, Tom. What we told each other will always remain confidential. Amy,’ he asked. ‘How did you know Lisa? Were you friends? She never mentioned you.’
‘We just worked together,’ Amy replied.
‘Both of us,’ Tom cut in, ‘wanted to know what really happened to Lisa. Neither of us believed she jumped. So we just started digging around.’
‘And found me.’
‘And found you.’
‘On the phone, you spoke about some activities at where she worked - where you both worked: is that right?’
‘Yes. Did she discuss that with you?’
‘She did. She said she didn’t know quite exactly what was going on there. She said that she thought people at the firm - senior people - were money laundering. She asked me what I thought she should do.’
‘What did you tell her?’
‘I said she should either keep her head down - she wasn’t directly involved with it - or go to the police with her suspicions.’
‘Do you know what she did?’
‘We only talked about it a couple of times. She never mentioned it again, so I assumed she decided to keep her head down.’
‘The night she died,’ Tom spoke slowly, looking down at his clenched hands. ‘The night she died - do you know where it happened?’
‘On the tube, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, but do you know where?’
‘You mean what station?’
‘Yes.’
Walczak shrugged. ‘No. No - I don’t.’
‘Well, she was at Green Park. On the Piccadilly westbound platform.’
‘I didn’t know that. I made a point not to read the newspaper reports of it.’
‘You see, Pawel, that night she was on her way to meet me. She had phoned me that afternoon, said she wanted to see me. She wouldn’t say what she wanted to talk about. We were going to meet at Waterloo, just a few stops on the Jubilee from where she worked. When the police told me she died at Green Park I assumed she’d missed her stop and was on her way back to Waterloo, but it turned out she was on the westbound Piccadilly platform.’
‘And the westbound Piccadilly leads here,’ Walczak said.
‘That’s right. Was she coming to see you?’
‘You said she arranged to meet you. At Waterloo.’
‘That’s right. But there’s no other explanation for her being where she was.’
Walczak sat quietly for a moment, thinking. ‘It’s possible,’ he said, scratching his chin, ‘she was coming here. We hadn’t arranged to see each other, but we had talked - several times - about something which had been on her mind for some time.’
‘Not to do with what was going on at work?’ Amy asked.
Walczak shook his head. ‘No. This was something else.’ He paused a beat. ‘It would be easier if I showed you something.’
‘Is this the evidence you spoke about?’ Tom asked as Walczak stood up and went to the dressing table.
‘It is,’ he replied as he pulled open a bottom drawer and took out a white A4 envelope. ‘She asked me to look after this for her.’ He passed the envelope over to Tom.
Tom opened the envelope. Inside, folded in two was a larger piece of paper. Tom looked over it, over the numerous names and lines written down. He put his hand over his mouth and showed Amy. Eyes wide, she looked up at him.
Tom swallowed and ran his hand through his hair. He looked up at Walczak.
‘I had no idea,’ he said.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Tom was about to knock on the door for the third time when Sully opened it. He blinked and stared at Tom and Amy, seemingly slow to recognise them.
‘Ah yes,’ he slurred. ‘I’ve been expecting you all evening.’
He turned and walked slowly back into their lounge, and slumped onto the sofa.
Glancing at each other, Tom and Amy followed him in, closing the door behind them.
‘Sorry to call unannounced,’ Tom started to say. ‘And so late.’
Sully laboriously looked at his watch. ‘Not late. Only eleven.’
Tom sniffed and looked around. He could smell that Sully had had plenty to drink; the empty bottle of Trezanti Rosso on the table confirmed that.
‘Where’s Jane?’ he asked. He and Amy sat down at the dining table.
‘Jane?’ Sully asked.
‘Yes, Jane. Is she in bed already?’
Sully laughed, and emptied his glass. ‘In bed? No. Jane’s not in bed. She’s gone out.’
‘Out? When are you expecting her back?’
Sully shrugged.
‘Sully,’ Tom said impatiently. ‘Where is she?’
Sully look up at Tom. ‘You know, don’t you? You’ve found out.’
Tom nodded. ‘I just need to talk to Jane. Before…’
‘We all need to talk to Jane.’
Tom looked over at Amy. ‘Get him some coffee, would you? Do we have to have that on?’ he asked Sully, pointing to the television, which was showing a loud police drama.
Amy nodded and went into the kitchen; Sully picked up the TV remote and muted the set.
Tom leaned forward and looked at Sully. ‘Sully. Look at me. What happened tonight?’
‘I think she’s gone. Gone…’
He sat still, staring into the bottom of his empty glass.
Amy brought over a cup of black coffee. Returned with one for Tom and for herself, and sat back at the table.
‘Drink that,’ Tom said.
Sully took a sip, then the whole cupful.
‘Now,’ said Tom. ‘What happened tonight?’
Sully took a deep breath and leaned back.
‘I was at home all day, alone. Jane went out for the day, shopping. She said she was going to one of the Westfield Centres. So, I figured she’d be out all day.’
Another deep breath.
‘Some time ago, Lisa and I had an affair.’
‘You what?’
‘Relax Tom, it was long after you and Lisa split. And it only lasted a few weeks. But it meant I wanted to look through that box of her stuff. Jane kept it to herself.
‘So while I was alone for the day, I decided to go through this place, to get the box, and have a look through it. Eventually, I found not the box you went through, but another one, with more, different things about Lisa. And about Jane. It was secreted in one of Jane’s wardrobes.
‘The box had lots of photos, not unlike the ones you saw. Probably from the same batch. But there was also this - this document inside the box.’
‘And you read the document, and saw -’
Sully looked up at Tom.
‘That Jane and Lisa weren’t sisters.’
Chapter Forty-Eight
‘But you knew that already,’ Sully said.
‘We found that out this evening. We saw a friend of Lisa’s, who had presumably a copy of what you saw.’
‘Not sisters,’ Sully murmured, staring into space.
‘Did you have any idea?’ Tom asked.
‘None at all. Did you?’
Tom shook his head. ‘What happened next?’
‘While I was reading the stuff,’ Sully said, ‘Jane came home. Unexpectedly. Saw me sitting in there reading this stuff and went ballistic. Called me all sorts of stuff…’
‘Then walked out?’
‘No, not quite. After a while she calmed down and started to talk more rationally. Any more coffee?’
Amy got up and made them all a second cup.