Sins of the Fathers

by Leah Hope

  “But why didn’t he try to attack Maggie in France, why wait until she was back in the UK?”

  “Because she was hardly ever alone. This is the bit that sticks in my craw, he said he didn’t want to risk harming an “innocent soul”. Can you believe it? How is Maggie not “an innocent soul” too?” Gil slammed his mug down on the coffee table and stood up, staring blankly through the window. “I’m sorry Bridge, but the thought of him….”

  “I know Gil, I know, but come and sit down. Can I get you some more tea?” Bridget asked, clearly concerned.

  “No thanks, I’m ok, it’s just that every now and then I think how close I came to losing her.”

  Bridget swallowed hard as she realized this was the first time Gil had acknowledged, to her anyway, the strength of his feelings for Maggie. As much as she loved her brother and always wanted the best for him, she couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for them all, and for herself in particular. Ashamed that she could even begin to put her own feelings above Gil’s after all he’d been though, she forced the thoughts from her mind.

  “Yes but you didn’t. Maggie is a wonderfully strong woman and you will both get through this. Together.”

  Gil silently crossed the room and wrapped his arms around his sister. Neither spoke. As he struggled to compose himself, he was saved by the bell.

  “I’ll go” said Bridget, as she climbed gingerly off the sofa, knowing Gil wouldn’t want anyone to see him when he was so visibly upset.

  “It was Dora Williamson” Bridget said when she returned from the hall. “She saw the car in the drive and just wanted to make sure we were all ok, bless her. I told her I hadn't been well and she said she would make us a casserole for tomorrow night. I tried to tell that wouldn’t be necessary but she insisted. She’s a dear and such a good neighbour, I must try to pop round in a day or so.”

  “Yes but not before you’re up to it. I told you, I’m here now so just listen to Dr Honeyman. Please.”

  “I wouldn’t dare argue” said Bridget with a smile as she settled herself back on the sofa. “Are you ok to carry on?”

  “Yes I’m fine. So, as I was saying, Aleksander made his way to France and when he realized it would be difficult to “get a shot in” as he put it, he decided to bide his time and enjoy a bit of a holiday while he could! I told you it was incredible, I still can’t get over the nerve of the man.”

  “Talking of shots, did he mention to Maggie anything about how he got the gun?”

  “I don’t think so but he did say that he and his father used to do a bit of shooting when he was younger, rabbits usually. He also boasted about how he learned to fire a pistol from YouTube and from watching films about assassins can you believe!”

  “Well I can actually” Bridget replied. “Do you remember that I had the impression that the gunman looked theatrical? Well that makes sense now, he was copying what he’d seen other people do, almost as if he was acting a part.”

  “Yes I’d forgotten that, it all fits together now doesn’t it.”

  “So going back to how he knew about Maggie’s change of travel plans, don’t tell me he was lurking behind a bush in the garden!”

  “Not quite, but he was sitting at a table in Chez Mimi’s when Maggie and Heather popped in for a coffee on her last morning. He heard them talking about our offer to take Maggie back with us and as soon as they left, he booked a flight.”

  “But how did he know where we lived?”

  “I don’t know, he didn’t tell Maggie but I’m guessing he found out our surname somehow and after googling it he found a list of Honeymans. He probably tracked me down from the garage’s website.”

  “Very clever isn’t he. But it doesn’t give our home address and our phone number is ex-directory.”

  “Maybe he rang the garage on some pretext that he was an old friend or something. I’ll have a word next time I’m in and tell them on no account are they to give out any home addresses.”

  “Talk about shutting the stable door” said Bridget, clearly angry at a security breach that could have cost them their lives.

  “Trust me, it won’t happen again.”

  “So all he had to do was to hang around the house on the Sunday morning and wait for Maggie. He’s one very cool customer isn’t he? To think if she hadn’t turned in her seat at that moment…”

  “I know, but she did, thank god.”

  “Another thing that’s been bugging me is how he got into Maggie’s house in Bath that day. I remember thinking how security conscious she was the day we went for Sunday lunch. I’ve never seen so many locks before!”

  “Yes but for all that security, she made the classic mistake of leaving a key under a plant pot. He was presumably hanging around outside somewhere watching the house and when she left to drive to the bakery, he made his move. Maggie said he was waiting for her in the kitchen when she got back. He jumped out from behind the kitchen door and before she knew it he had overpowered her and tied her to a chair and put a gag in her mouth. When he pulled out a kitchen knife from his backpack, Maggie said she should have been terrified but instead, all she could think about was that’s my knife, the one I lost recently, how did it get in his bag?”

  “Do you remember that I told you that Maggie had said she had a feeling that she was being watched? We all put it down to her being nervous, understandably of course, after the first attack. But she was right. He’d been in the house before. He knew how to get in and the layout. His head wasn’t in that much of a mess was it! Do you know Gil this chills me to the bone, almost more than the two attacks did. To think a complete stranger has the nerve to come and go as they please, maybe to go through your things. It doesn’t bear thinking about.”

  “I think you’re right. If only we’d listened to her.”

  “But what could we have done? Gone to the police? I think they would have had the same thoughts as us. Maybe they would have sent a patrol car around now and again but what good would that have done? Don’t forget, at that time, everyone thought I was the intended victim so another attack on Maggie was the last thing anyone was expecting. So don’t beat yourself up Gil. There’s nothing that could have been done either to foresee or prevent it.”

  “Thanks Bridge, I’ve hardly been able to sleep because of the guilt and the “what ifs”. I know it’s stupid but I couldn’t get the notion out of my head that I could have done something, anything. I just needed my big sister to make me see sense.”

  “Well I’m glad I have my uses. But another thing has just struck me. What if Aleksander was the man that Dora Williamson said had been enquiring about us when we were in France?”

  “Maybe, but didn’t Dora say that he first called about ten days earlier? At least that’s what you told me.”

  “Hmm, you’re right, so that would have made it before Maggie changed her travel plans. In which case there was no reason for Jankowski to think that she would turn up here. I think that rules out it being him then.”

  “But if that’s the case, who was it that was asking for us?”

  “We’ll probably never know, but I doubt it was anything important.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Precisely two weeks later, Daniel Collins walked into Whtyeliffe police station, clearly alive and apparently well. Inspector Addison called Gil and Bridget with the news later that day. “I’m in your neck of the woods at the moment, ok if I pop in?”

  “You know what a sweet tooth he has” Bridget said to her brother with a wry smile. “Just as well I’ve made a batch of Bakewell tarts.”

  The doorbell rang ten minutes later. As the inspector settled himself at the kitchen table, the cakes arranged tantalizingly on a pretty cake-stand, Bridget thought he was like a child being told to wait before they touch the food.

  “Well what are you waiting for? Tuck in” she said with an expectant look.

  “I don’t know how you do it” the inspector said with a look of ecstasy on his face. “I thought the mince pies were
the next thing to heaven but you have surpassed yourself Bridget Honeyman.” Bridget blushed at the compliment and hurriedly poured the tea.

  “So what’s his story?” Gil asked as the last of the cakes were devoured.

  “Well this case has confounded everyone who’s worked on it. If we’ve learned one things it’s expect the unexpected.”

  “It sounds intriguing” said Bridget, pouring more tea.”

  “It turns out that Dan Collins has spent the last six weeks or so on a remote Hebridean island. No telephones, no internet, no contact at all with the outside world. Oh apart from a local fisherman who brought him fresh supplies every now and then. He’d left his mobile at home as well remember so he had absolutely no idea that, for a time, he was the most wanted man in the country.”

  “But why was he there? If he was innocent I mean” Gil asked.

  “To sort himself out. He said his medication was turning him into a zombie and he knew he could never get back to his old self unless he stopped taking the pills. He said that his mother kept such a close eye on him that she would know at once that he’d stopped taking them. He felt his only chance of recovery was to go cold-turkey.”

  “That was quite a brave thing to do” said Bridget. “But why a Scottish island?”

  “Basically because he didn’t have anywhere else to go, or at least nowhere where he could feel sure that he wouldn’t be forced back on his meds. So he withdrew a few hundred pounds out of the bank, which we were aware of at the time, caught a train to London and then got the overnight sleeper to Inverness. From there he got a bus to the coast and asked around for a croft to rent. He struck lucky and found the perfect place on a little island a few miles offshore. He found a local fisherman to row him over and to stock up his supplies after a few weeks. As I said, there was no contact with the outside world so he had no idea that he was a wanted man. He said he didn’t plan to stay away so long but after a few weeks with only seals, guillemots and the occasional dolphin for company, he started to feel more like his old self. So he stayed on.”

  “But what did he do all that time?” Bridget asked.

  “He swam, he fished, there was everything he needed at the croft. He read, he painted, he had taken some equipment with him, he ran, he had late nights looking at the stars, he slept and, more importantly he got better. It sounds idyllic doesn’t it? I think I’ll book myself in for a few weeks!”

  “It wouldn’t do for me” said Gil with a snort. “I like my technology, I’d feel as if my right arm had been cut off if I didn’t have my daily fix of the news.”

  “Philistine!” Bridget said with a laugh. “I’m with you on this one Inspector, it sounds like paradise.”

  “I’ll book us in then, but only if it’s got a decent stove so you churn out these little beauties” the inspector replied, popping the last of his cake into his mouth. Bridget blushed deeper than ever.

  “So when he eventually got home and his mother had stopped crying with relief, she told him everything that had gone on. He was mortified that anyone could possibly think he could have committed such a crime.”

  “The poor, poor man. He’s been through so much” Bridget said shaking her head. “But at least some good’s come out of it, he’s got his health back and that’s the most important thing. What is he planning to do now, did he tell you?”

  “Well his first step is to resign from the Met. He said he no longer wants a job where he could accidentally kill a child in the line of duty. He’s still suspended of course and the result of the inquiry is still pending so he could still face disciplinary proceedings. My bet is he won’t face criminal charges as he acted in good faith and if he resigns, there’s very little anyone can do.”

  “So what are his plans now?” Gil asked.

  “Well, he’s still working on his recovery but he said that if he continues to make progress at the rate he has been doing, he wants to get himself back into some sort of work as soon as possible. He absolutely loved the life up in the Hebrides and his ambition is to become a ranger or a warden. But in the meantime he’s planning to volunteer over the summer, in exchange for his keep, at a wildlife conservation project. His wife has been in touch too, it’s very early days of course but he’s hopeful they can work something out. But he says unless she can adapt to island life, he doesn’t see a future for them; there’s no way he’s going to compromise his health.”

  “They say that love will find a way” said Bridget wistfully “so I hope things work out for them. Thanks for bringing us up to date Inspector, is there any news on a date for the trial?”

  “No, nothing yet I’m afraid, these things can take time as you’re probably aware. I understand that Heather has taken Maggie back to France with her for a few weeks, is that right?”

  “Yes, we saw them off at the airport before they left last week” said Gil. “Maggie was still torn between staying at home and spending a few weeks in France but Heather managed to convince her that getting away from the crime scene, as she put it, would be better for her.”

  “I’m sure she’s right. It will be tough when Maggie gets back though and has to deal with the reality of being in that place on her own. It must still hold some terrible memories for her.”

  Unsure if the inspector was aware of the burgeoning relationship between her brother and Maggie, Bridget was unsure how to respond without betraying a confidence. “But she won’t be alone, well not all the time anyway, she’s got Gil and I and the other members of her family of course. Between us we’ve arranged a rota for when she gets back so she’s never on her own for any length of time. She’ll need time on her own of course so we’ll gradually reduce the time that we spend with her until she gets back to normal, or as normal as it can ever be after her ordeal.”

  “That sounds like an excellent plan, she’s very lucky to have you both. Please give her my best wishes when you next speak to her.”

  “I’m skyping with her in a few days’ time as a matter of fact” said Gil “so I’ll pass them on then.”

  “Well if that’s all for now, I’d better be on my way. Thanks again for the tea and cakes. I’ll be in touch if there’s any news about the trial of course.”

  “Thanks Inspector, and for keeping us up to date” said Bridget as she showed her guest out.

  “Oh, I nearly forgot. Last week in July first week in August ok for our trip to paradise?”

  Bridget blushed a deep crimson all the way to her roots.

  *

  Just two days later, Inspector Addison was on the phone again. “I’ve got some good news” he said to Gil who had leaped out of bed to take the call at just after eight. It had better be at this time of the morning he said under his breath. “I’ve just been informed that Aleksander Jankowski is going to plead guilty to all charges so there won’t be any need for a trial. There will be a date set for sentencing and you’ll all be invited to attend although it’s not compulsory if you would prefer not to. No need to make your minds up now though, just let me know what you want to do when we’ve got a date for the hearing.”

  As Gil put the phone down, he caught sight of something wedged between the hall table and the wall. He moved the table slightly and pulled out what he found. It was a business card. The front of the card read Jeff Parker, Deputy Editor, Coastal Courier, along with his contact details. Puzzled, Gil turned the card over. Squinting, he could just make out what the scrawly writing said. We would like to run a feature on how you both coped after your “fifteen minutes of fame” in St Rémy. I’ve called around a few times but your neighbour said you were in France. If you’re interested, please get in touch - see overleaf for contact details. Regards, Jeff Parker. 27 April.

  Gil waved the card back and fore as he tried to join up the dots in his head. Of course, he said to himself. That’s the day before we got back from France. So that’s who Dora Wilkinson’s mystery man was. As it all fell into place, Gil remembered picking up the post when they arrived home and putting it on the hall tab
le to sort through later. The card must have been in the pile and slipped out somehow and got itself wedged behind the table. “Wait until I tell Bridget” he said out loud.

  *

  Gil was as excited as a child on Christmas morning as he waited for the clock to tick around to eleven, the allotted hour for his Skype call with Maggie. The plan was for both Gil and Bridget to have a brief chat with her together to exchange news, after which Bridget would make herself scarce so the “lovebirds” could talk privately. Bridget would pop to the shops rather than lurk in another room as Gil had a habit of talking far too loudly. The last time they spoke she had to stick her fingers in her ears so that she didn’t overhear their conversation.

  Bridget returned just after half past eleven, fearful that perhaps she hadn’t allowed enough time for Gil and Maggie to say everything they needed to. However she got caught in an unexpected downpour and with nowhere to seek shelter, she had no choice but to return home. She put her ear to the study door and as it was all quiet, she assumed the call was safely over. She popped her head around the door to ask if Gil wanted a cup of coffee.

  Gil was sat on the sofa, staring out of the window which looked on to the rear garden. He didn’t look up as Bridget entered.

  “Everything ok?” Bridget asked warily, but fearing from the look on her brother’s face that everything was far from ok.

  “No, not really.”

  “Why, whatever’s the matter? Maggie seemed in good spirits when we chatted earlier.”

  “Oh she is, that’s the problem, she’s on top of the world. She’s decided that as she’s cheated death twice in a month, life’s too short not to make the most of what time she has left.”

  “But she’s still a spring chicken, she’s not likely to be shuffling off just yet is she?”

  “That’s what I said, but her mind’s made up. She’s going “travelling” as she called it; the “gap year she never had”. She’s got it all planned too, well not all of it as she wants to a “free spirit”, whatever that means.”