The One You Love (Emma Holden suspense mystery trilogy)

by Paul Pilkington

  I know what really happened.

  Edward closed his eyes.

  Suddenly everything was making sense.

  Soon you’ll know what it’s like to really hurt…to lose the one you love.

  He had to do something, and quickly. He picked up the phone and dialled Will’s number.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Will,’ he said, trying to calm down, ‘thank God you’re okay. Where are you?’

  ‘In my flat, why?’

  ‘You’re not with Emma?’

  ‘No. She was here a couple of hours ago, but then she went to the hospital to see Richard.’

  ‘So you don’t know where she is now then?’

  ‘No, I don’t. I guess she might be at her flat, or maybe at Lizzy’s. Hey, are you okay? You sound out of breath.’

  ‘Call her,’ Edward said. ‘Find out where she is. Then stay with her; make sure she’s all right. Don’t let her out of your sight.’

  ‘What’s the matter? You think she’s in trouble?’

  ‘Just go and make sure your sister is all right.’

  ‘But I don’t understand,’ Will said. ‘Stuart’s dead. I thought you said this was all over now.’

  ‘Just do what I say,’ Edward demanded. ‘And hurry.’

  ***

  ‘You think this all has something to do with Will?’ Emma said.

  ‘Yes,’ Guy said. ‘I know it’s a shock, but I really do believe that your brother is involved. How, I don’t know.’

  ‘You’re just saying that to protect Stuart’s memory,’ Emma accused. ‘Why would Will be involved?’

  ‘I’m not sure. And no, I’m not just saying that to protect Stuart. I wouldn’t do that, Emma.’

  ‘What proof have you got?’

  ‘I haven’t got any proof, as such,’ Guy admitted. ‘But it’s just something Stuart told me once.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That Will had something to do with you and him splitting up.’

  ‘Stuart told you that?’

  ‘In so many words. And if he split you two up, then maybe he did the same with you and Dan.’

  ‘This is crazy,’ Emma said, ‘and I don’t believe it for a second. Will wouldn’t do that. Why would he want to split me and Dan up, or me and Stuart?’

  Guy shrugged.

  ‘I trust my brother, totally,’ Emma added.

  ‘You shouldn’t ever trust anyone totally,’ Guy countered. ‘We all have secrets, Emma.’

  ‘Will has nothing to do with this.’

  ‘Will was the first to find Stuart,’ Guy said. ‘Why was he at Stuart’s flat?’

  ‘How did you know about that?’

  ‘From the newspaper.’

  ‘Newspaper?’ Emma said. ‘There was a story?’

  ‘In here.’ Guy brought out a newspaper from by the side of the chair and handed it to her. ‘Page ten.’

  Emma flicked to the page.

  ‘He’s somehow involved in all this,’ Guy reiterated. ‘Otherwise why would he have been hanging around Stuart’s flat?’

  ‘How the hell did they get these photos?’ she said, examining the photograph showing Stuart being carried into the ambulance. Another one showed Will sitting outside Stuart’s flat, with his head in his hands.

  ‘Someone must have been following Stuart, or Will,’ Guy suggested. ‘They were waiting for the right photo, and they got it.’

  ‘And I think I know who.’

  ‘I wouldn’t let it worry you. I know it sounds a cliché, but whoever he is, he’s just doing his job. It might be unpleasant, but you’re better off forgetting him and focussing on the more pressing issue – finding your fiancé. And I know you still don’t want to hear it, but I truly believe that your brother holds the key to all this.’

  ***

  Richard stirred from his drug-assisted sleep; it took him a few moments to realise that the phone was ringing. Using all his energy he reached over and wedged the receiver between the pillow and his ear. His arm was aching, as if he had just lifted a ton weight.

  ‘Hello?’ He tried to sit up as far as the equipment would allow; his voice came out croaky, like an old man’s.

  His question was met with silence.

  ‘Hello?’ he said again. ‘Emma, is that you?’

  ‘Richard.’ It was a male voice.

  ‘Yes. Is that you, Will?’

  ‘You still can’t remember, can you?’ the voice said.

  ‘I’m sorry, who is this?’

  ‘I spared your life, Richard. I came to visit you, stood by your bed and could have ended it then – but I didn’t. You should be thankful.’

  ‘It’s you, isn’t it.’ Richard glanced towards the window in the fear that the man would be there, talking to him through the glass. ‘Where’s Dan? What have you done with him?’

  Silence.

  ‘Give yourself up now,’ Richard said. ‘I’m starting to remember what happened. I can nearly see your face – soon I’ll remember everything. And it will be better for you to give yourself up to the police now, before they come looking for you.’

  ‘Not until it’s over,’ the man replied cryptically.

  ‘Please, just stop this,’ Richard pleaded. ‘I don’t know why you’re doing this, but just stop it, now. Let Dan go.’

  ‘It’s too late for your brother.’

  ‘No,’ Richard said, shaking his head, starting to sob. ‘No, please say he’s okay. Tell me you’ve not hurt him, please, tell me.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Why?’ Richard screamed. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I want you all to understand.’ The man’s voice suddenly cracked with emotion. ‘I want you to understand how much it hurts. I think you are starting to understand, aren’t you, Richard?’

  59

  ‘Still no breakthrough?’ Gasnier asked, as DS Davies sat down on the other side of the desk.

  ‘They’ve been through Stuart Harris’s house top to bottom,’ Davies replied, ‘and we’ve had his computer searched thoroughly. Apart from that image, and the letter he sent to Emma Holden pretending to be Dan, there’s nothing else to indicate where Dan is, or what happened to him.’

  Gasnier unfurled his bottom lip, tapping on the desk.

  ‘They have found something which is interesting,’ Davies said, ‘although I can’t see how it’s relevant to the case.’

  ‘Go on,’ Gasnier said.

  Davies brought an envelope out from under the desk and handed it to Gasnier. ‘They found these photographs in his bedroom, hidden inside the mattress. He’d slit a hole in the base and slid them inside.’

  Gasnier shuffled through the set of twenty prints. ‘Any idea who the girl is?’

  Davies shook his head.

  ‘These aren’t holiday snaps,’ Gasnier noted. ‘It’s obvious that they were taken without either one or both parties knowing.’

  ‘It does look like a covert surveillance operation,’ Davies agreed. ‘That’s why I thought it would be worth showing them to you. Though I still can’t see how they could be relevant to this case.’

  ‘Who knows,’ Gasnier said. ‘But I think we should at least show these to Emma Holden.’

  ***

  ‘Emma?’ Will said. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Just about to get the tube back to the flat,’ Emma said.

  ‘You’re not with Lizzy?’

  ‘No, I’m on my own. Lizzy had a matinee this morning and has got the evening performance tonight. I’ve just been to see Guy Roberts. He gave me an idea of how we might find out some more information about Dan – although it’s probably a long shot.’

  ‘Don’t do anything until I get there,’ Will insisted. ‘Go back to the flat and stay there until I arrive. I might even get there before you.’

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Nothing. I just don’t think you should be on your own at the moment. Especially with the press following you around – I just saw the story in the newspaper.’

  ‘T
hat’s where I got my idea,’ Emma said. ‘Okay, Will, I’ll wait until you come over. It will be nice having you around.’

  ***

  ‘You sure you want to do this?’ Will said, as Emma headed for the telephone. ‘I mean, by contacting the press you might just encourage them to run more stories about you. They might try and dig even deeper into your private life.’

  ‘They might.’ Emma picked up the receiver. ‘Then again, this guy might be the best witness we have. If he has been following us all around – Stuart included – then he might have seen something, or someone that can help us find Dan.’

  ‘Wouldn’t he have said so though?’ Will suggested. ‘If he’d seen anything he would already have gone to the police.’

  ‘Probably. Although he might have seen something that to him doesn’t seem important, but actually could be really important.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re not just looking for someone to take your anger out on?’ Will said. ‘I mean, you said yourself that the guy really scared you the other night when he called on the intercom. You chased him for about half a mile.’

  ‘If he can give us any clues that help us find Dan, then I don’t mind what else he did,’ Emma replied, punching in the buttons for the newspaper.

  ***

  ‘Thanks,’ Emma said, scribbling down the details on the pad next to the phone. ‘You’ve been a great help.’

  ‘You got the name?’ Will asked.

  ‘Eventually,’ Emma said. ‘The photos in today’s paper all came from the same person. He’s a freelance photographer called David Sherborn.’

  ‘Contact details?’

  ‘Telephone number and address. I think it’s better if we go and see him face to face. I don’t want to scare him off by calling him cold.’

  ‘Maybe he’s watching us right now.’ Will moved over to the window and looked down at the street.

  ‘Don’t,’ Emma said. ‘It gives me the creeps.’

  ‘It’s not the same as before though,’ Will said. ‘This guy isn’t crazy, like Stephen Myers – he’s just doing his job.’

  ‘That’s what Guy Roberts said, but it’s still stalking, whatever the motivation.’

  ‘True,’ agreed Will. ‘And you still want to meet this man?’

  ‘Yes. The way I see it, I haven’t got a choice.’

  ***

  ‘This is the house,’ Emma said, standing in front of the door.

  They had travelled across London, over the river. Ironically, it wasn’t far from Stuart’s flat, although the environment was very different – the wealth showed in the selection of executive cars parked in and around the streets, and the newly built homes contrasted with the grim dwellings just a few streets away.

  ‘One last chance to change your mind,’ Will said.

  Emma knocked.

  ‘Can I help?’ A young, pretty woman answered. She was carrying a tiny baby over her shoulder and patted his back as she stood there, rocking gently.

  ‘We’re here to see David,’ Emma said.

  ‘You’re a client?’

  ‘Yes,’ Emma lied.

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ she said, turning around and shouting upstairs. ‘David, door for you.’

  They heard a toilet flushing and then the sound of someone bounding down the stairs.

  When David Sherborn appeared, sporting a designer shirt, Emma had to catch her breath.

  It was Eric.

  60

  ‘I built this studio onto the back of the house, two years ago,’ David Sherborn said, shepherding them in through the door, around the back of the house. ‘Thought that it would be nice to be able to work from home, but not be at home, if you know what I mean.’

  Emma stepped inside onto the wooden flooring. The studio was nicely done, with each wall decorated with stunning photographs, some of panoramic mountain views, and others black-and-white art-house style close ups of faces. In the centre of the room were a stylish black leather sofa and a glass table with several large photo albums. The room smelt of perfume.

  ‘Please, take a seat,’ said David. ‘Can I get you anything to drink?’

  ‘I’m okay,’ Emma said, sitting down.

  ‘Me too,’ Will said, taking a seat next to her.

  The man nodded, before pulling up a stool.

  ‘This was always my dream,’ he said, looking around the room. ‘My dad bought me a camera when I was ten, and ever since that’s all I ever wanted to do. It’s not a bad life either. That photo over there,’ he said, gesturing towards a photo of a desert landscape, drenched in red, ‘was taken in Australia. I got paid to fly out over there, working for the Australian Tourist Commission. They were trying to promote the country in the UK and wanted an English photographer.’

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Emma said, turning back to look at him. He looked older now, dressed smartly, and talking more eloquently and authoritatively. Despite his baby face, she’d now place him at least six or seven years older than her original estimate. ‘This is all a bit different from your more recent work.’

  ‘Yes,’ David said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. ‘That Australian trip seems like a long time ago now. Things have changed since then.’

  ‘You’re now spying on people,’ Emma said. ‘And selling your photos to downmarket newspapers.’

  ‘I am,’ he said, looking her in the eye. ‘That’s exactly what I’m doing. I never dreamt that I ever would, but sometimes things don’t turn out the way you planned, do they?’

  ‘No. Sometimes they don’t.’

  ‘I fell into it, really,’ David continued. ‘My other work started drying up, I was getting fewer and fewer commissions, and suddenly I was struggling to pay the mortgage on this. I had taken out a hefty loan to build this studio. Then Claire, my wife, found out she was pregnant, and I knew that I had to do something. I met a guy at a conference and he suggested celebrity photojournalism. It’s not easy, but it can pay well if you get the right photo.’

  ‘Like the photo of Stuart being carried into an ambulance?’

  David averted his gaze. ‘I’m not particularly proud of some of the things I do. I know it sounds like a copout, but this is all for my family.’

  ‘You pretended to be someone you’re not,’ Emma pressed. ‘You lied to me, just to get photographs.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  ‘All that business about you being warned off by Dan, it was all a lie. When you were crying outside the museum?’

  ‘It was all an act. I played the part of Eric so that I could get close to you. I’m sorry.’

  ‘You’re just sorry you got found out.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘Maybe I’m just embarrassed of what I do. Not many people know that I do this – not even Claire. She thinks the money is still coming in from my preferred work.’

  ‘I can’t say I’m happy about what you’ve done,’ Emma said, ‘but that’s not why we’re here. We were hoping you might be able to help.’

  ‘Go on,’ he said.

  ‘You obviously know all about our situation. You know that Stuart died, and that they still haven’t found my fiancé.’

  ‘Yes. I know. I hope they find him.’

  ‘But you’ve not just been following me,’ Emma said. ‘You must have been following Stuart too – otherwise you wouldn’t have got those photographs outside his flat.’

  ‘I was following him that day, yes,’ he confirmed. ‘But I swear, I didn’t realise he was going to do what he did.’

  ‘Did you follow Stuart a lot?’

  ‘On occasions. Mostly when he was with you, though.’

  ‘Did you see him do anything suspicious?’ Emma said. ‘Did you see him go anywhere? Somewhere he might have been keeping Dan?’

  ‘I’m really sorry, Emma. I didn’t. If I had, I would have gone straight to the police. I’m not that much of a mercenary.’

  ‘Anything?’ Emma tried. ‘It could be something that seemed innocuous at the time but might be really important. It could
help us find Dan.’

  ‘I saw nothing suspicious,’ he reaffirmed. ‘I’d love to help, I really would. At least then I might start feeling a little better about myself. I didn’t want to get into this situation. I wish I’d never been asked to…’

  He stopped dead and the silence hung in the air.

  ‘You were asked to follow me and take those photos,’ Emma stated. ‘That’s what you were about to say, isn’t it?’

  He looked away.

  ‘Who asked you to do this?’ Emma pressed. ‘Please, tell me. It could be important.’

  ‘It isn’t. It won’t help you find your fiancé.’

  ‘You don’t know that,’ said Emma, trying to control her anger and frustration.

  ‘I can’t tell you. I think you’d better go.’

  ‘Tell me, or I’ll tell your wife exactly how you earn your money.’

  ‘It won’t help you, knowing the name,’ he insisted.

  ‘I’ll tell her,’ Emma said again.

  ‘She’ll understand.’ But he didn’t sound completely convinced. ‘She’ll understand why I do what I do.’

  ‘She probably will.’

  David pressed his hands around his nose, closing his eyes. ‘Okay. If I tell you, promise you won’t tell my wife.’

  ‘I promise.’

  He hunched forward, playing with his bottom lip. ‘Oh, sod it,’ he said, taking a breath. ‘I was commissioned to do this – to follow you and take pictures.’

  ‘Go on,’ Emma said.

  ‘You know him,’ he said. ‘It was Guy Roberts.’

  61

  ‘Why did you do it?’ Emma said, as Guy had barely had a chance to open the front door.

  Guy looked at Emma and then at Will before walking back into the house, leaving the door ajar as an invitation. They followed him through into the lounge.