To Love and to Perish

by steve higgs

  ‘There are numbers for lawyers on the wall,’ Beardy pointed out. I twitched my eyes at a board covered in business cards, but I already knew who I was about to call. For some reason, it hadn’t occurred to me until I was chewing my sandwich, but unbidden the memory surfaced – my brother-in-law is a lawyer.

  My Sister and I do not see eye to eye on anything and never have. She is a bully who has always tried to rub my face in her superior height and superior looks. She was happy to point out her husband’s superior job. Anywhere she could score a point, she did. Since we were little girls living in the same house, she always had a reason to pick on me.

  Of course, I believe the reason is because she is a horrible cow, but I wasn’t going to point that out right now because I needed her for once.

  Mercifully, hers was one of the numbers I had etched in my memory. It was after eleven; late, but not so late that I thought she might be asleep.

  ‘Ginny Walters,’ she answered the phone, wondering who might be calling this late and on a number she didn’t recognise.

  ‘Ginny,’ I bit my lip and cursed my luck. She would call mum the moment she got off the phone to me and would ride my incarceration like a bad anecdote for the next decade. ‘It’s Felicity. I need your help.’

  It was a simple statement and one designed to interrupt whatever she was about to say next - I rarely got to finish a sentence before my big sister would start to talk about herself. For once I managed to silence her, even if not for long.

  ‘You need my help,’ she repeated. Her tone turned suspicious. ‘Why? What with?’

  I sucked in a deep breath and got the words out before I changed my mind. ‘I’ve been arrested for murder. I need Shane.’

  Several seconds of silence followed. Enough that I drew a breath to ask if she was still there.

  She spoke before I could. ‘I see. Well, I have to say this doesn’t shock me.’

  ‘What? My getting arrested and accused of murder doesn’t shock you? I’m a wedding planner, Ginny. Why would you ever think I might get arrested for murder?’ With our history, it didn’t take much for my rage level to spike.

  Ginny snapped, ‘Do you want me to help you or not?’ She was enjoying her position of power, just the way I knew she would.

  ‘Yes,’ I replied with a reluctant sigh.

  ‘Yes, what?’ She was going to make me beg. The horrible old witch was genuinely going to make me beg when my very freedom was on the line.

  ‘Please, Ginny,’ I begged, imploring her to stop messing me around. ‘I’m in Maidstone police station. I need Shane’s help and I need it now.’ I was almost at the point of tears, the evening proving too much for my gentle spirit to take. I wasn’t hardened against such experiences the way Vince seemed to be.

  Sounding bored, Ginny said, ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ and with that she put the phone down. I was left standing in the corridor with Beardy watching me while I stared incomprehensibly at the phone. The dial tone mocked me, but my one call was complete, and I was going nowhere except back to my cell.

  Good News and Bad

  I awoke shivering in the dark some hours later, but it was the sound of the viewing hatch being opened and closed that woke me and my door was being unlocked now that whoever was outside had confirmed I wasn’t poised to attack behind the door.

  It was Beardy again, whose name I still didn’t know and guiltily had not attempted to learn. ‘Come on,’ he beckoned. ‘You’re being released.’

  The news propelled me from the bed and onto the cold floor of the cell.

  ‘Released? As in I can go home?’

  ‘That’s usually what released means,’ he replied flippantly while waiting for me to straighten my clothes.

  I didn’t waste any time getting out of the cell, slipping my shoes back on and hurrying through the door while still rearranging myself. Immediately buoyed by the prospect of having the charges against me dropped, I was disappointed to find myself back outside Interview Room 2.

  ‘I thought I was being released?’ I questioned.

  I got a nod from Beardy. ‘Once you have spoken with the chief inspector.’

  He did the knock, wait, push the door open thing, but to my great relief, when the door swung to reveal the room, my brother-in-law was sitting opposite Chief Inspector Quinn. I could not remember ever being more glad to see anyone in my life.

  He was getting to his feet and I all but knocked him back into his chair when I flung my arms around him.

  ‘Good morning, Felicity,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘Don’t worry, we will be leaving shortly. The chief inspector just has a few things to say first.’ He dropped the amused tone he used on me. ‘Don’t you chief inspector?’ Shane growled.

  What was going on? I didn’t know my brother-in-law very well because he was married to my sister and thus I hardly ever spent any time in his company. Ginny and I avoided each other. Or possibly it was the case that I avoided her while never making it into her conscious thought as a thing that even existed.

  Either way, I knew he was a lawyer and a barrister and went to court but beyond that I couldn’t have said anything about his career. However, he was acting like he owned the room and the chief inspector … well, he looked cowed almost. Annoyed too, his eyes and top lip twitching as if something were deeply aggravating him.

  ‘Can we hurry this along, Chief Inspector?’ Shane demanded. ‘I am due in court in an hour.’

  Snapping his head and eyes across to glare at me, Chief Inspector Quinn’s lips were pressed together so hard that they looked like they might just merge into one.

  It would be an improvement if he couldn’t talk. The naughty voice in my head was back because I no longer felt utterly terrified.

  ‘I owe you an apology, Mrs Philips,’ the chief inspector announced, and I thought I might just fall off my chair I was that surprised. ‘There were some … discrepancies in my investigation.’ The chair to his left, which last night had a sergeant in it, was now empty, the chief inspector wanting no one to hear him admit his error. ‘You are, of course, free to go.’ He fell silent.

  No one said anything for a second, but just when I was going to speak, planning to graciously accept his apology, Shane placed a hand on my arm.

  ‘And?’ he prompted.

  The chief inspector’s top lip twitched in annoyance again. ‘And I am sorry for any inconvenience this has caused. Shortly, I will be issuing a statement to the effect that you were mistakenly arrested.’

  I waited to see if there was any more to come and glanced at Shane for a nod that we were done before saying. ‘Thank you, Chief Inspector. I hope you catch whoever did kill john Ramsey.’

  The lip twitched again, but he said nothing, getting to his feet to open the door. Exposed to the people beyond – his people – he put on a smile and offered me his hand to shake.

  The naughty voice told me to slap it away, but I extended my own, thinking it probably better to let the man save some face rather than make an enemy of him.

  Clearly primed, Beardy was waiting to escort me back to where my possessions were catalogued and taken away the previous evening. Five minutes later, I had everything back and packed inside my handbag. My coat was back on my shoulders and I was leaving the police station with a plan to never ever return.

  I barely spoke at any point, however, once we were outside the torrent of questions building mass in my head burst forth like a dam breaking.

  ‘Oh, my goodness! How did you get him to apologise? What discrepancy was there? What happened to John Ramsey; no one told me? I got arrested with Vince Slater, do you know if they let him out?’

  Shane laughed and held up both hands to slow me down. ‘Whoa, Nelly. The crux of this is that the chief inspector didn’t wait for the forensic team to examine the car. I believe he reacted the moment he heard about the crash. It was on the news because it closed off the motorway heading south.’

  I wasn’t following what Shane was trying to tell me.

&nbs
p; Seeing my confusion, Shane explained. ‘The brakes failed on John Ramsey’s car. The verdict recorded is accidental death.’

  The news took me by surprise. ‘So he wasn’t murdered at all?’

  Shane frowned slightly. ‘No, Felicity. The point being that the chief inspector was more than a little premature in his desire to arrest you. How can you be charged with murder when no one had been murdered?’

  ‘Hence the apology.’

  Shane nodded. ‘What you don’t know is that the chief inspector has a couple of black marks against him already. He’s a clever operator and a good policeman; nothing ever sticks, but if enough mud gets thrown … He has his eyes set on one of the top jobs. Maybe even the top job of Commissioner and I reminded him of the need to appear to be squeaky clean.’

  ‘You mean you threatened him?’ I gasped.

  Shane snorted a small laugh. ‘Not exactly. I have cross examined him in the past while defending my clients and thus far I have always come out on top.’

  ‘What about breaking into Orion Print? I admitted to doing it.’ I really was dumb.

  ‘Actually, you were lucky to get away without being cautioned for that, Felicity. It would seem that your … friend, Mr Slater,’ Shane wasn’t sure how to label Vince, ‘claimed he heard a cry for help and upon investigation discovered the rear door to the property to be open. With the embarrassment of the false murder charge against him, it was in the chief inspector’s best interest to let the possible B&E charge go. It’s not as if he had any evidence. I don’t for one minute think the chief inspector believed him, but Mr Slater’s counsel had no trouble getting him released.’

  ‘Vince is out too?’ I looked around, wondering whether he was still here waiting for me.

  Shane nodded. ‘Listen, I got you out, but I doubt that will be the end of it.’

  Fear shot through me. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, for a start, Chief Inspector Quinn is a sore loser. He will be watching you because he still thinks you are guilty. The accidental death verdict can be reversed easily if they find sufficient reason to doubt it. I forced him to back off, but that will just mean he now applies extra effort to find the evidence. He’ll have a team working on the CCTV footage, trying to manipulate it so they can see what you did to John Ramsey’s car.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything to it,’ I protested, failing to mention that I stole paperwork from it.

  He puffed out his cheeks. ‘That won’t matter either. Quinn is going to look for a way to catch you out. My advice is to go back to work, immerse yourself in your job and act as if nothing happened. Now, sorry, but I must dash. I really do have to be in court in an hour, Felicity. Is there anything you need?’

  I needed a shower and a change of clothes. Something for breakfast would be nice and maybe a chiropractor to straighten my spine after sleeping on what the police believe can pass for a bed. I shook my head. ‘No, Shane. Thank you for coming to my rescue. You’ll have to send me a bill for your services.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ he laughed at me. ‘You are family.’ He shot his cuff to check his watch, grimacing when he did.

  ‘Go,’ I insisted. ‘I’m heading for home. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine now that I am out of that awful place.’

  He smiled at me, but wasted no further words, hurrying away to get on with his day.

  Standing outside Maidstone police station wearing yesterday’s clothes and with hair that must look a terrible state, I was attracting the attention of passing motorists. Goodness only knows what they might imagine had befallen me. I had to look a sight and needed to get out of the public eye before someone spotted me.

  Of course, my car was still in Aylesford, parked behind Orion Print. I could walk there, but I was going to find a taxi instead. Aylesford is a quiet village so I wasn’t worried that anything might have happened to it during the night.

  I got about three feet when a car about to drive by me in the road abruptly braked. The suddenness of it, with an accompanying squeal of tyres made me jump. It was on the two-lane ring road running around the city and nearly caused a pile up as the cars following had to slam on their own brakes to avoid a collision. Horns blared and the air turned blue with shouted insults as motorists told the driver causing all the fuss what they thought.

  I had no idea why the car had stopped and was just starting on my way again when a voice stopped me.

  ‘Oh, my goodness! It was true!’

  The voice made me cringe. There was a part of me that knew I ought to put my head down and run, but too dumb to obey my instincts, I let my anger rule instead.

  ‘Primrose,’ I growled, turning to face the woman now getting out of her car. Primrose Green owns and runs Kent’s second most successful wedding boutique and wants nothing more in life than to hold the number one spot. She’s six inches taller, twenty years younger, two cup sizes bigger, and has the face and figure of a former model because that is exactly what she is. She’s also married with two perfect children and none of it would be a problem if she wasn’t such a terrible person.

  Drivers continued to blast their horns and offer opinion at the hold up she had caused, but Primrose was completely oblivious. She was coming toward me with her phone in her hand, but it was only when she started taking pictures that I realised what she was trying to do.

  Primrose has no good way to beat me in the wedding game, so she resorts to dirty tactics instead. An image of me looking dishevelled outside a police station would somehow make it into one of her ad campaigns with an equally undeserved and unpleasant headline.

  I threw my arms in front of my face to stop her getting what she wanted.

  ‘I knew it!’ she cackled happily. ‘I knew you were doing something criminal. There is no way you keep getting the top clients fairly. What is it, Felicity? Have you been finding out the celebrities’ dirty secrets and blackmailing them? Or are you doing deals under the table?’ She gasped. ‘Is it drugs? Please tell me it’s drugs. Hey!’

  Her tone changed at the last word, her fascination and amusement vanishing to be replaced by indignant outrage.

  ‘Give that back!’ she demanded.

  I had been hiding my face and attempting to get away as she pursued me down the street, but I risked a glance now to see what might be happening.

  The impeccably dressed Primrose was being held at bay by one long left arm, the owner’s palm facing out to ward her off. At full stretch in the other direction was her phone, the top of it visible above the fingers of the right hand.

  Both hands belonged to Vince Slater. I took a moment to look up at the sky and ask why I was being punished.

  ‘Give me back my phone!’ Primrose shouted. ‘I’ll scream for help,’ she threatened. We’re right in front of a police station.’

  Vince laughed at her. ‘Yes, we are. I note you are illegally parked on a main thoroughfare and appear to be stalking Mrs Philips.’ He turned his head in my direction. ‘Here, catch.’

  The phone was in the air the next second, my eyes flaring in surprise as it arced toward me. I had to dart forward to snatch it from the air, almost dropping it twice before juggling it safely into my palms.

  ‘You may wish to erase the pictures she took,’ suggested Vince.

  Primrose was incensed. ‘That’s mine. The pictures on it belong to me.’ She was trying to go around Vince, but he was twice as wide, a hundred pounds heavier (at least), and found her attempts to get to me amusing.

  She hit him with her handbag, and he burst out laughing.

  The front door of the police station opened, two cops sticking their heads out. I recognised them as the ones manning the front desk.

  ‘Whose car is that?’ one demanded to know.

  ‘It’s hers,’ I supplied happily while pressing delete on the last of the pictures she’d taken. She’d managed to snap several terrible ones before I realised what she was doing and thought to hide my face.

  ‘Are you broken down?’ the cop enquired, his tone making it cl
ear he didn’t for one second believe she was.

  Primrose’s face coloured as she tried to bluff.

  Vince asked, ‘Done?’

  I handed him the phone.

  He turned, grabbed Primrose’s left wrist, and slapped the phone back into her hand. Giving her as much attention as one might a piece of litter blowing on the breeze, he left her there, putting an arm out to guide me away.

  His voice low, he told me, ‘I have a car in the car park along the street. Let’s be somewhere else, eh?’

  I was going to get in his car, quite willingly, in fact. I could not, however, deny the feeling that I was the fly accepting the spider’s invitation.’

  Mating

  Acting in a manner which to me seemed uncharacteristically helpful and charming, Vince drove the threeish miles to Aylesford to drop me next to my car. It was, as expected, just as I left it.

  I thanked him for his generosity and started to get out. It was then that a question occurred to me.

  ‘I took some pages from John’s car last night. They were financial statements. When I got to the police station they were no longer in my handbag. Did you take them?’

  Vince did a good job of looking shocked by my question. ‘Goodness, Felicity. Of course not.’

  I hurriedly apologised. ‘Sorry. I … it was wrong of me to ask. Thank you for returning me to my car,’ I thanked him again. ‘I’ll, um. I’ll just go. Sorry.’ Ashamed for thinking the worst of him when I had no good reason to, I got out of his car and dug around in my handbag for my keys.

  Vince got out as well, hanging half in and half out to look over his door until I was getting into mine.

  ‘Do you want to hear about what happened to John Ramsey?’ he asked.

  ‘He crashed his car. I know that already.’

  Vince shook his head, a knowing smile stuck to his face. ‘Yes and no. That’s not the full story.’

  Narrowing my eyes, I bit the hook. ‘Go on then. What’s the full story?’

  He didn’t give me an answer, he asked another question. ‘Are you going home now?’