by Leah Hope
“I’m just going to have a quick word with the search team and then I’ll follow you on to the hospital. Once you’ve been given the all-clear by the doc, we’ll need to make a start on your statements. See you both soon.”
“Come on Bridge, let’s get this over with” said Gil putting an arm around his sister’s shoulder. “Hopefully we’ll get some news about Maggie soon.”
Chapter Six
After a mercifully short wait to be seen Gil and Bridget were both passed fit by a doctor in A&E. “Come on’ said Gil, “let’s see if we can find Sergeant Jackson.”
As they made their way to the waiting room, a uniformed police constable approached them along the corridor.
“Mr Honeyman, Miss Honeyman?” Sergeant Jackson has asked me to apologize but he’s been called away. But if you would like to follow me to the waiting room, Inspector Addison will be with you shortly.”
No sooner had Bridget picked up a magazine than the door of the waiting room opened and a tall, good-looking man in a smart navy suit entered. Nodding briefly to the constable, he strode over to where Gil and Bridget were sitting, hand outstretched.
“Inspector Mark Addison, Whytecliffe CID. Follow me please, I’ve arranged for the use of a meeting room on the first floor. We can talk privately there.”
As they made their way to the meeting room, Bridget asked if there was any news of Maggie Thomas.
“She’s still in surgery but I’ve asked someone to let me know as soon as she’s in recovery” Inspector Addison replied as he held open the door to the meeting room. “Please sit down and make yourselves comfortable.” Turning to the uniformed constable he said “see if you can rustle up some tea Steve, there’s a good lad, or would you two prefer coffee?”
“No, tea’s fine for us thanks” Gil said answering for his sister. Bridget nodded in agreement as she sat in one of the two chairs clearly intended for them both on one side of a small table.
“Right, I’ve spoken to Sergeant Jackson and he has of course briefed me on what happened this morning. What I would like you to do now is to take me through the events of the last couple of days, from when you left France. Take your time, we’re not taking a formal statement for the moment I just need to get a feel for your take on things. Who would like to kick off?”
As Gil was about to open his mouth, the constable returned with a tray of tea. “I’ve got some biscuits too sir, custard creams, your favourites” he said with a proud grin.
Gil began to slowly recount the events of the last few days, starting with the moment when it was arranged that Maggie would travel back from France with them. Bridget interjected occasionally when she thought Gil had forgotten something or needed further explanation.
“So, just to make sure I’ve got this right, the only people who knew about the change to Mrs Thomas’ travels plans were yourselves and her daughter and son-in-law in France” Inspector Addison asked, munching on a biscuit.
“As far as we know but I can’t vouch for Heather and Tony not having mentioned it to any of their other friends. They would probably have said something, before or after she left, to explain Maggie’s sudden departure. She had been due to stay on for another week. It would have been odd if they’d not said anything at all. Maggie may have rung friends and family in the UK too, to let them know she would be home sooner than planned. But you’ll have to ask her about that.”
While Gil had been doing the talking, Bridget had ample opportunity to study Inspector Addison at close quarters. She estimated him to be in his early forties, married, judging by the ring on his left hand, and as someone who played his cards very close to his chest. His mid-brown hair was flecked with grey and his eyes were icy blue. He had made very little comment to anything Gil had said, other than to occasionally ask for clarification. Bridget made a mental note not to get on the wrong side of him.
“Ok, now to the events of this morning. I know this will probably be quite traumatic for you both but it’s vital that you try to recount every little detail while it’s fresh in your minds. Not just what you saw but sounds, smells, anything you can remember.”
Once more, Gil did most of the talking but as his perspective would be different from his sister’s, Inspector Addison wanted to hear Bridget’s account too.
“The thing that struck me Inspector was how theatrical it all looked” Bridget said after she’d relayed her account of the shooting. “I know it’s probably my mind playing tricks on me but there seemed to be quite a pause between my first seeing him pointing the gun and when he fired it. The more I think about it, the more I’m sure he almost seemed to be trying to get his stance right, as if he hadn’t done it before. I don’t know if that makes any sense or I’m just imagining things.”
“From my experience Miss Honeyman…”
“Oh, Bridget, please.”
“Ok, well Bridget, as I was saying, in my experience, first impressions, however bizarre or strange they might seem, are very often the right ones. Witnesses often over-think things rather than just describing what they saw or heard. It could well be that this chap was a novice, or maybe he was just nervous, which would probably rule out his being a professional hit-man. That and the fact that he only fired once and if he was shooting to kill, he clearly failed. Hit-men tend to fire twice, just to make sure, and certainly don’t miss from point-blank range.”
Bridget could feel her colour drain away. “A hit-man? Is that really a possibility? Good grief, why would a hit-man target Maggie?”
“That’s what we need to find out. There are of course two other lines of enquiry. This could have been a random shooting, for whatever reason, chummy decides what better way to kick off a Sunday morning than to shoot a total stranger. Rare, but not unheard of.” Inspector Addison shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
As he did so, Bridget had a horrible feeling that she knew what was coming next. She grabbed her mug for comfort.
“Thirdly, and I’m afraid to say, the most likely explanation is that Maggie Thomas wasn’t the intended target at all. We have to look at the possibility that the gunman mistook Mrs Thomas for you Bridget. It is very likely that you were the intended target. Can you describe her for me please.”
Ignoring the inspector’s question, Gil put his mug down onto the table with such force that some of the tea sloshed over the side. Bridget quickly pulled out a couple of tissues from her bag and mopped it up. “You’ve got to kidding!” Gil exclaimed. “Why on earth would anyone want to harm Bridget?”
“I can understand your being upset Gil, is it ok if I call you Gil?” Not waiting for an answer, the Inspector continued. “However difficult this is to take in, the alternative, ie that Mrs Thomas was the intended victim, makes even less sense. No-one in Whytecliffe, or even the UK, apart from her family and close friends, knew she would be in the town that day, least of all sitting in your car on your driveway.”
“That makes sense I suppose” Bridget said quietly. “And I can see it would be fairly easy for someone to mistake Maggie for me. We’re a similar age and height, Maggie’s a bit slimmer, but that might not be so noticeable when she was sitting down. Our hair is a similar colour and style too. But maybe we can assume the gunman didn’t know Maggie or me, if he had I very much doubt he would have got us mixed up. For all our similarities, we could never be mistaken for twins.”
“That’s a very good point Bridget” the inspector said as he glanced at the woman opposite with increasing respect.
“But if he didn’t know either of them, then why was he trying to kill one of them?” Gil asked.
“That’s a very good point too Gil, and if I’m honest, I don’t have any answers yet, well none that make any sort of sense any way.”
“Do you think he’ll try again Inspector?” Bridget asked nervously.
“I very much doubt it. There’s a huge police presence in the town and he would need to be particularly stupid to try his luck again. Of course a lot depends on his motive. Just for one moment let�
�s assume you were the target Bridget, can you think of anyone who would want to harm you? Take your time, cast your mind back to any arguments, disagreements that you can think of.”
Bridget paused for a moment, trying desperately to recall anyone who might have had a grudge against her. She drew a blank, unless of course a rare argument she’d years ago with another customer in the fish shop counted. It was over the last fillet of haddock, if she remembered correctly.
“No, sorry Inspector, there’s nothing, nothing at all” she said, discounting the haddock as a motive.
“My sister must be one of the gentlest people I know” said a concerned looking Gil. “I’ve never heard her say a cross word in her life, apart from when I’m in her bad books of course. Seriously though, I can’t think of anyone least likely to have an enemy than Bridget. The more I think about it the more ridiculous it sounds” said Gil, who was getting rather red in the face. “Surely this must be some sort of a mistake?”
“You would think so wouldn’t you but I imagine that Mrs Thomas might say exactly the same thing” Inspector Addison replied bluntly.
Chapter Seven
It was after four in the afternoon when a mentally exhausted Gil and Bridget arrived back home. Their written statements had taken an inordinately long time to get down on paper, their flagging spirits bolstered only by the arrival of more tea and custard creams. At just after three, they had been relieved to be interrupted with good news about Maggie. She was recovering well in a private room but was not being allowed visitors for the present. Thankfully, the bullet hadn’t caused a great deal of damage apart from splintering a small section of bone and which had successfully been repaired in surgery.
During a break in the proceedings Gil took the opportunity to call Heather and Tony, although he assumed that one or both of them would be by now on the way to the UK. As he suspected, only Tony was at home. Heather was at that moment driving to Calais to catch a ferry, having fallen foul of the same lack of flights as her mother a few days earlier. Gil told Bridget that Tony sounded very upset that he couldn’t travel to the UK with his wife. “We’ve got a wedding party booked in to the restaurant tomorrow afternoon, they’ve taken the whole place and I couldn’t possibly leave the rest of the staff to cope” he’d explained. Gil reassured Tony that Maggie was doing well and he shouldn’t reproach himself. “Tell Heather to give us a ring when she arrives” he’d told Tony, adding that she was very welcome to stay with him and Bridget.
Ducking under the police incident tape that was strung up across the bottom of the driveway, Bridget was very pleased to see a young uniformed police officer standing guard outside their front door.
“I thought it would keep the press at bay” he explained, nodding at the tape as they approached. “There’s been a couple of the local hacks sniffing round but I’ve told them to sling their ‘ook.”
Dealing with the press would have been the last straw, for Bridget in particular. “Thanks very much Officer, that was very thoughtful of you. Are you going to be all right out here? I don’t like the look of those clouds, I hope we don’t get any rain.”
“I’m fine thanks ma’am, don’t you worry about me. You just go on inside and relax.”
How on earth am I supposed to do that? Bridget thought to herself as she closed the front door shut behind herself and Gil.
“I don’t know about you Gil but I’m exhausted, I’m going to have a lie down. Heaven knows what we’re going to eat this evening but I can’t face cooking, or even eating.”
“Me too, I mean I’m going to have a lie down as well. Don’t worry about cooking, I’ll pop out for a take-away later.”
Brother and sister arrived downstairs just five minutes apart some three hours later. Both felt guilty at feeling hungry but decided they were no use to anyone if they didn’t look after themselves.
“Fish and chips do you?” Gil asked.
“Lovely, and pick up a couple of bottles of wine at the off licence will you, we finished off everything that Maggie bought yesterday. Oh, better ask the constable if he wants anything to eat, it must be pretty miserable standing outside in this weather.”
Half an hour later, Gil returned with fish and chips for three, several bottles of white wine and half a dozen beers. The young constable followed Gil into the kitchen.
“I shouldn’t really” he said, “I’m not supposed to leave my post but to tell you the truth, I’m soaked through.”
“Well we won’t tell if you don’t” said Bridget as she thrust a plate of fish and chips towards him. I don’t suppose you’ll have a beer though?”
“No thanks, I’d best not push my luck. A cup of tea would be very welcome though. Oh and I could do with using your bathroom before I go too.”
“Yes of course, but you don’t need to ask. Just pop in when you need to.”
At that moment, the phone in the hall rang. “I’ll get it” said Gil jumping up. “I hope it’s not the press or they’ll get short shrift.”
“That was Heather” Gil said as he returned to the kitchen. “She’s at the hospital. She’s seen her mum, so feels much better now. They’ve going to put a bed alongside her mum’s for her tonight.”
“Oh that’s good, I’m sure they’re both pleased about that. Is there any update on how she is?”
“She’s in quite a bit of discomfort now the anaesthetic is wearing off, but they’ve given her some strong painkillers so she’s drifting off to sleep every now and then.”
“That’s the best thing for her, rest and more rest. Have they said when she’ll be allowed home?”
“No not yet, the doctor is due to see her again in the morning so I’ve asked Heather to give us an update when she can.”
“Poor thing, Heather I mean, I bet she doesn’t get as much sleep as her mum.”
If Bridget hadn’t drunk as much wine as she did, she very much doubted she would have got a much better night than Heather.
*
Gil and Bridget were both up early the following morning. Although Bridget had fallen asleep as soon as her weary head had touched the pillow, she had awoken at six o’clock, her heart and mind both racing.
Gil slept surprisingly well too but as soon as the first shaft of sunlight hit his bedroom window, he too was wide awake. Intending to treat his sister to a cup of tea in bed, he was surprised to find her already in the kitchen making a start on breakfast.
“I thought I’d treat us to some American pancakes, we’ve got some blueberries in the freezer that need using up.”
“There’s no need to go to all this bother Bridge, a piece of toast would have done for me.”
“Me too, I’m not even particularly hungry. Whether it’s delayed reaction or whatever but I just can’t sit still, my mind’s in turmoil. I’ve been awake since six and everything’s going round and round in my head. Don’t you feel the same?”
“To some extent, but it’s no good us trying to make any sense out of what’s happened, we’re just as much in the dark as the police.”
“But that’s just it Gil, the police are expecting us to come up with answers, they don’t know us from Adam so how can they begin to know why this person was targeting me?”
“Because that’s what they do! It’s not down to us to solve this, we’ve done our bit by telling them everything we know. It’s up to them now to try to fit all the pieces together.”
“But have we though? Told them everything I mean.”
“Bridget, we each made a ten page statement. What else is there to say?”
“But why should anyone target me Gil? It makes no sense at all. Unless…” Bridget pause while she turned over the pancakes.
“Unless what? The suspense is killing me.”
“Unless it has something to do with what happened in St Rémy?”
The previous year, while spending the summer at their cottage in France, Gil and Bridget had been caught up in two murders that took place in the village. Although they hadn’t been directly i
nvolved in apprehending the killer, they had prevented there being a third victim, thanks to one of Bridget’s hunches. For a time they had been heroes, on both sides of the Channel, and while Gil was very proud of the part they had played, it was a time that Bridget preferred to forget.
“What, do you think the killer has taken out a contract on you or something?” Gil said with a laugh.
“It’s not funny Gil, and yes I do mean something like that. Why not? We may not have been responsible for the killer being behind bars, but we were involved, so why shouldn’t they try to take revenge?”
“Because that would be crazy. We weren’t any threat to the killer, all we did was to prevent another death.”
“I’m sure you’re right Gil, but I really think we ought to tell Inspector Addison. He can decide if I’m barking up the wrong tree or not.”
“Ok, I’ll give him a call after breakfast.”
Chapter Eight
Gil rang the station just after nine. Inspector Addison wasn’t available but he rang back an hour later. He asked if Gil and Bridget could come down to the station, they could have their fingerprints taken at the same time, but Gil explained that his sister was feeling increasingly nervy. “Ok” the inspector had replied, “I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”
When all three were sitting around the kitchen table an hour later, a pot of coffee in the centre, Gil asked how the investigation was going.
“We’ve had some positive sightings of the gunman on the beach, before and after the shooting. At that time of the morning, there weren’t many people around but we think we have more or less established his movements. It seems as if he’d set up some sort of base camp, just below the sea wall. Several people reported seeing a man sitting down with a backpack next to him. We assume that this was where he stored his ski-mask and gloves and probably the gun as well. I’ll tell you more about the gun later. Just before nine, a man walking his dog glanced across and saw a man, we will assume for now it was the same man, putting some sort of covering on his face. Unfortunately, the dog-walker is quite elderly with poor eyesight and mistook the ski-mask for goggles or some sort of diving mask. Consequently he didn’t think it anything out of the ordinary at the time. We’re pretty certain though that this was our man.”