Over Your Shoulder

by C J Carver

  I didn’t.

  ‘So,’ she said. She was breathing in hard through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. A relaxing technique she’d told me about. ‘Your brother, he was being a dick. He went into the Mayfair offices that night, coked up to the eyeballs, thinking he could do anything. Rachel tried to send him away, she watched him go down in the lifts, thought he’d left the building, but he fucking turned around and came back.’

  ‘And?’

  She closed her eyes. ‘You may not believe me, but I still have no idea what happened after that.’

  ‘What happened to your spy? Rachel?’

  ‘She vanished. I never saw her again.’

  I felt a moment’s shock. ‘What?’

  ‘God, I hate reliving all this. It doesn’t get any easier.’

  Susie opened her eyes and I suddenly saw how tired she was. Her eye sockets were bruised and her skin tone had lost its healthy sheen and looked dry and lacklustre.

  ‘Rachel disappeared,’ she said. ‘Before or after Tony was killed, we have no idea.’

  I elected to ignore the fact she hadn’t mentioned the dead woman yet and said, ‘Did you know your spy was having a relationship with both George and Tony Abbott?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Long silence while Susie looked at me and I looked back. She said, ‘Do you know who else she was sleeping with?’

  My stomach turned to ice.

  ‘No way.’

  ‘She’s a very attractive woman. Slightly feral. I think it was that mix of raw sexuality mixed with an aura of danger that made her so irresistible. She made the perfect agent. She could move anywhere in the building, gain access to all sorts of secrets.’

  I stared at my wife, but I wasn’t seeing her. I was looking at the Saint in his study, hearing his voice telling me that Rob had shot his girlfriend – some bint with the morals of a cat – and Tony in a jealous rage.

  ‘Personally, I think someone found out she was working for us.’ Susie looked at me with sad exhaustion. ‘They killed her that night, and disposed of her body.’

  I didn’t respond. I was frozen. She obviously didn’t know about the woman who’d been killed with Tony. Had Rob in some kind of drug-induced rage, murdered them? And what about the Saint? How did he fit into all this? He’d been sleeping with Rachel too.

  ‘Nick?’ Susie was looking at me askance. ‘Are you okay?’

  I managed to move my tongue, which seemed to have turned to board. ‘Um… if Rachel was such a good spy, why didn’t you get her to bug the offices? Why use Rob?’

  ‘Things were more technical back then.’ Susie glanced over my shoulder as the door banged behind me, letting in a blast of cold air. ‘Hi, Paul.’

  ‘Hi.’

  I turned to see Paul Dookes, a neighbour of ours and Anchor Bleu regular, give us a wave before he headed to the bar.

  Susie put her elbows on the table and leaned closer. ‘Rachel’s talent was sex. She was a good old-fashioned honey trap but she didn’t have a technical bone in her body.’

  My mind was having trouble computing everything. ‘What happened to that middle-aged businesswoman?’

  ‘She ran away.’

  ‘With Rob chasing after her.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did she get away?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Susie’s gaze held a challenge. For some reason, I felt my skin crawl.

  ‘Isn’t there a final question?’ she said. ‘You’ve done pretty well so far. I would have thought you could have put the last piece of the jigsaw into the puzzle with your eyes shut.’

  ‘Who was the middle-aged woman?’ I asked but I’d already worked it out because the woman hadn’t been middle-aged. She’d been in disguise.

  A look of satisfaction spread across Susie’s face.

  ‘Me.’

  Chapter 55

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me all this to start with?’ I asked.

  She gave me a look.

  ‘Classified,’ I sighed.

  We’d moved to sit side by side by the fire, along with a bottle of Australian Shiraz I’d bought for us to share. The bar was busy, and most of the tables were taken up by people having supper. Not a bad night for a midwinter Wednesday and the good thing was that nobody was close enough to overhear us, especially since the conversational noise levels were up, and we kept our voices down.

  ‘Not just classified,’ she said, ‘but we didn’t want the Saint getting wind of the fact we had him in our sights. That we had not just one, but two agents in his organisation. And since you didn’t know anything, he remains oblivious to the fact and I’d like it to stay that way now, and in the future.’

  She shot me a meaningful look. Jesus. I wish she hadn’t done that. My palms dampened at the mere thought of the Saint questioning me again. Unlike Susie, I hadn’t had any training in how to withstand an interrogation, and if George Abbott got his hands on me again, I had no doubt I’d find it almost impossible not to spill every bean I had.

  I cleared my throat, trying not to show my nerves. ‘What about now?’

  ‘After Tony’s murder, Rachel and Rob both going missing, assumed dead, not many agents were willing to step up to the plate.’

  ‘Right,’ I said, moving along. ‘Rob wasn’t chasing you.’

  ‘No,’ she agreed. ‘We were both running like hell.’

  The story was that when she’d arrived that night, she’d gone up to the third floor. She hadn’t seen Rachel or Rob, but she’d heard gunshots. She knew Rob had gone in armed and, pierced with horror, she ran down the corridor toward the sound. Rob erupted from the furthest office, wild-eyed and covered in blood, and she shouted at him, wanting to know what was going on, but he’d come at her, waving his gun and screaming like someone demented.

  ‘Run!’

  She had turned around, and ran for the stairwell with Rob right behind.

  ‘He wasn’t going to hurt me,’ she said, but for some reason, she didn’t sound too convinced. ‘He’d just lost it. Gone nuts. He was terrified, and he terrified me.’

  ‘You think he killed Tony?’

  She put her head in her hands. ‘Christ knows.’

  I still hadn’t shown her the photographs of the crime scene, and I wriggled on my chair, brought out the envelope. ‘I received these in the mail,’ I told her. ‘They’re pretty disturbing, sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay. I see a lot of pretty awful stuff in my job.’ She gave a wan smile. ‘Show me.’

  I pulled them out and handed them over.

  She looked at them for a long time.

  ‘At least now I know what happened to Rachel.’

  ‘But her face… You definitely know it’s her?’

  ‘I can’t think who else it would be, dressed up like that.’ Susie frowned, studied the pictures more closely. ‘Yes, it has to be her. Same height, nice figure, great tits. Whoever did this to her was really, really angry. This wasn’t someone in full control of their emotions. They went berserk. They wanted to obliterate her. Smash her to pieces. Literally.’

  I turned away, feeling nauseous. ‘I can’t see Rob doing that. Even if he was on drugs, I just can’t see it.’

  ‘For what it’s worth, neither can I.’ Susie slipped the photos back inside the envelope. ‘I know he looked like a madman chasing me across the foyer like that, but he wasn’t going to hurt me. He was simply terrified. I can still hear him yelling at me, “Run!” He just wanted us to get out of there.’

  ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘I ran flat out for the tube station. I hurdled the barriers, can you believe it? I’ve never done that before, or since. When I looked back, he wasn’t there. I don’t think I lost him, I think he took a different route. I waited for him to ring me, contact me or the Office, but he never did. The next we knew, he’d drowned. We weren’t sure whether to believe it or not. We considered the fact he might have staged the accident in order to give himself some time, but when he never surfaced, we had to face the fact he
may well have drowned after all.

  ‘And now he’s back.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘I’d quite like to wring his neck.’

  ‘Get in the queue.’

  I stared through the darkened window, trying to think what else might have happened that night. I felt Susie take my hand, gently turn it over. ‘How did you get these?’

  She was looking at the cuts I’d sustained from crawling through the glass on the floor at Klaudia’s flat.

  ‘I went to see Klaudia Nowacki.’

  ‘Good God.’ Susie’s eyes widened. ‘She used to clean for the Mayfair Group. What did she have to say?’

  I told Susie everything that had happened the previous night, except the fact Rob apparently owned the Range Rover which had whisked the shooter away. I wasn’t sure why I kept that from her, but I think it was because I didn’t want her totally biased against my brother.

  I said, ‘Klaudia was shot when she moved to answer the doorbell. When she came into clear view. The last thing she said was that she didn’t see anyone else at the Mayfair offices except Rob and Rachel. The last words Klaudia spoke was that it was strange, because Rachel was normally so proud of her looks… and then Klaudia was shot.’

  ‘Rachel was proud of a lot of things.’ Susie sighed. ‘Especially her figure, her talent for luring men into having sex with her and telling her things they normally wouldn’t. She loved being a spy. She revelled in it, the power she thought it gave her.’

  I reached over and picked up the bottle of wine. Topped up our glasses. Finally, I told her I’d met Rob. By the time she’d finished questioning me, we’d drunk the wine and were on coffee. I leaned back, stretching out my legs. ‘Another thing,’ I said. ‘Is that Rob told me he didn’t know who the middle-aged woman was.’

  Susie arched her eyebrows. ‘He knew it was me all right. Why would he lie about something like that?’ She trailed off, frowning. ‘I don’t think he’d be protecting my MI5 status, not with you. So why say he didn’t know me? I don’t get it.’

  ‘You weren’t exactly looking like yourself. Flat shoes, tweedy skirt, grey hair. Even I didn’t recognise you.’ Which I have to say I found extremely disconcerting. Wouldn’t I have recognised something about my wife, the woman I loved and had lived with for eleven years?

  ‘No, no.’ She was shaking her head, baffled. ‘He knew it was me.’ Her expression cleared. ‘He would only lie to you if it was really important, say, to cause a smokescreen. I have no doubt he lied for all the right reasons, but it would be nice to know why.’ She gave a groan. ‘God, I wish we could just bloody see him together so we could sort all this out, once and for all. You could ask him everything you want, and I could clock him round the head for being such a pain in the bloody backside.’

  It was at that point I decided to get us all three together. Something inside me knew that only by doing so would I get the absolute truth.

  Chapter 56

  The next morning, I used the phone Rob had given me, and called him to set up a meeting. Susie was out. She’d decided to get some air and walk to the shops for some fresh bread, eggs and bacon. Having not had supper the previous night, just a bucket of wine and a mountain of conversation, we’d both woken starving hungry.

  Rob’s phone rang and rang. An automated message service cut in, and I told him I wanted the three of us to meet.

  ‘Maybe we can do it on the water again,’ I told him. ‘It felt pretty safe.’

  I didn’t mention contacting Mum and Dad, or Clara and the kids. I wanted him and Susie to meet first, clear everything up, and then we could see the family together, with a coherent story. I wondered if he’d come up with any kind of plan to deal with the Saint yet. Something clever, that doesn’t get anyone killed.

  Although Susie and I were outwardly okay, being polite, going to bed together, her falling asleep as usual with her head in the crook of my arm and her thigh between mine, something had fractured and it wouldn’t be fixed until I knew the truth. No matter that everything she’d told me made sense, she had still lied to me. And I wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

  I hid Rob’s phone at the back of the kitchen drawer, behind the plastic organiser and out of sight. I didn’t want Susie to find it and take things over. He was my brother, I’d contact him. A sudden clatter of metal on wood came from the hallway, making me practically jump out of my skin, but it was only the mail being pushed through the letterbox. My nerves were shredded. What I’d do to return things to normal, have my life back. My old, simple life, where I’d toddle into the office, work and chat and do some designing, have lunch and return home at the end of the day, felt so far from where I was now, it felt like someone else’s life. Somehow, I had to get it back.

  I put on the coffee machine. Checked my emails. Glanced through the BBC News online. When Susie still hadn’t come back after forty minutes or so, I checked my phone to find a text from her.

  Bumped into Mary. Going for coffee. Back soon.

  Mary? Surely she didn’t mean my mother. They may get along on the surface but deep down they couldn’t stand each other. Not that I ever let on that I knew. Far better they thought I was unaware so family gatherings remained civil. My reasoning was that if their antagonism became general knowledge, they would have no reason to remain courteous to one another, so keeping a lid on it made sense. But Susie going for coffee with Mum? Something was up. Something was wrong.

  I rang Sea Flax.

  My father answered. ‘Hello, son.’

  ‘Hi, Dad. Sorry, I have to check something. Is Mum there?’

  ‘Sure. I’ll put her on.’

  ‘Hi, Mum.’

  ‘Gosh, what a surprise. To what do we owe this pleasure?’ Her voice was cutting, making me realise how appallingly I’d been out of touch, especially at such a stressful time.

  ‘Mum, I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to find Rob. It’s been… let’s just say it’s been a bit crazy. I know it may sound odd, but have you seen Susie this morning?’

  ‘Your wife?’

  ‘Do you know any other Susie’s?’ My tone turned cutting in return.

  ‘No, Nick. I haven’t seen Susie. Why, is something wrong?’

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ I lied smoothly. ‘I just wanted to know, that’s all. I’m sorry, I’ve got to go. I’ll ring you later, I promise.’

  I hung up quickly, before Mum could start asking questions. I texted Susie. Let me know where you are, I’ll come and join you. Starving. x

  I sat staring at my phone, waiting for herto respond. Nothing. I tried to concentrate on my emails, but my gaze kept going to my phone. I checked Rob’s phone, just in case. Nothing there either. I began to pace.

  Chapter 57

  After another ten minutes, I grabbed a waterproof and put both Rob’s phone and mine in my pockets. Left the house and walked the route Susie would have taken. I felt better now I was moving and I raised my head to the sky, feeling a faint heat from the sun despite the chill. Frost lay in the shade, white and prickly against lamp posts and shrubs.

  I reached Bosham Walk in under five minutes. Nobody had seen Susie. Ted, in the tea room, asked if I’d heard from Rob, no doubt hoping to sell some sort of story, and I ignored him. Legged it along Bosham Lane and up Delling Lane to the Co-op. The checkout staff weren’t sure if they’d seen her or not.

  ‘She would have bought some bacon,’ I said. ‘And eggs. Some bread and milk. Maybe some baked beans. Everything for a cooked breakfast.’

  One of the girls – eighteen or so, dyed hair the colour of copper – blinked. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I remember now. She said she was ravenous, could eat the hind leg off a galloping horse.’

  ‘That sounds like her.’ My relief was palpable. ‘When was this?’

  She looked at the clock behind her, on the wall. ‘An hour ago or so.’

  My ears started to ring. ‘An hour?’

  ‘Yeah. Is there a problem?’

  ‘I’m not sure. It’s just that she hasn’t come home yet…’ I
didn’t finish my sentence as I was jogging for the door. I stood outside, looking around, but I couldn’t see anything to prompt me to take any particular direction. I ran to the car park at the back of the shop.

  Three rows of cars. Some rubbish bins. Trees. A field at the back with a couple of grazing horses.

  I had a fast scout around, knowing if I didn’t check it out thoroughly it would nag me later. It was only as I began retracing my steps when I took in the shopping bag dumped on the ground. It looked full. Heart knocking, I went and had a look. Bacon, sausages, milk, bread, beans and eggs, and mushrooms because even though she didn’t like them, Susie knew I loved fried mushrooms with my breakfast.

  It’s not her shopping, I told myself desperately. It’s someone else’s. It’s not hers. I checked the receipt, shoved between the bacon and bread. My sweat turned to ice. She’d used her American Express card. The last four digits shown were the same as on her card.

  Clutching the shopping, I spun in a circle, wild-eyed, frantic. Where was she? Why had she dumped the shopping? Oh, God, God God God. Something terrible had happened. I stood trembling, wondering what to do. Call the police? What would I say? I brought out my phone, trying to get my thoughts in order. I’d ring DI Barry Gilder, I decided. He’d know what to do, but when I rang, it went straight to voicemail. I left a slightly incoherent, panicky message, asking him to ring me. ‘I need to know what to do.’

  I hung up. Returned to the shop and asked questions. Had anyone seen Susie talking to anyone? Who else had been in the shop at the time? Did anything out of the ordinary happen? Had there been anyone suspicious?

  I was talking to the manager of the store next to the flower stand, when my phone rang. I answered it immediately, hope spiralling.

  ‘Susie?’

  ‘Sorry, but she’s currently unavailable.’

  Fear flooded through me. ‘No.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ the Saint said. ‘She’s quite safe, artist. You don’t need to worry. Unless you don’t do as I say, that is, when her life will become intolerably unbearable.’