He breathed a little easier; perhaps he’d been mistaken after all.
He walked back towards Victoria, deciding to take the Underground this time. Nobody could follow him down there. He spotted the car again and froze.
It wasn’t a mistake.
His heart beat double time and he sprinted across the road into the station, stumbling over a small child, who screamed. He didn’t hang around to be berated by the mother. All the time he was looking over his shoulder.
He got through the barrier and sprinted to the nearest platform. He had no idea where he was going, just that he needed to get out of central London. Once he’d caught his breath, he discovered that he’d got on a District Line train travelling east. He noticed a woman opposite staring at him and thought he must look disconcerting: suicide bombers sweated before they detonated, didn’t they? He smiled.
By the time they reached Mansion House, he could take the woman’s stares no longer and disembarked. He walked aimlessly, heading wherever his feet took him: anywhere he wouldn’t be recognised. He tried Philip’s phone again, and this time he answered.
‘Philip, I was followed. It’s the police, I know it. It was an unmarked car with two personnel—’
‘Christopher, Christopher! Calm down, for goodness’ sake. Go home, go to the golf range. Make love to your wife, I don’t know, take her to dinner. Relax! They’ve got nothing, I tell you, nothing. My laundromat is very reliable, you know. There’s nobody and nothing that can be traced to you. Only your own mistakes can do that. How long have you known me?’
‘I don’t know, twenty years?’ His breathing was slowing.
‘Put things into perspective, man. Get out of London and away from back-stabbing, blood-sucking civil servants; the mere sight of them makes me think they’re plotting. Enjoy your money, book a holiday. Do you think I would be so stupid as to compromise us? We always said that if any shit hit the fan, the dame would take the fallout: she’s the one who’s fiddled the system for thirty years, not us. We merely oiled the wheels and supplied the chemistry. Stop panicking.’
‘Yes. Of course. God, I thought they had me. You’re right.’
‘All law enforcers need solid evidence, now more than ever, and if they don’t have it, the case will never see the inside of a courtroom. But you have to hold your nerve, Christopher.’
‘Yes. I will.’
‘I know you will.’
They hung up. Christopher saw that he’d walked to the river, and he thrust his hands in his pockets and shook his head, embarrassed at what an idiot he had been. Going home was just what he needed; he’d spent too much time in the city recently. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out and looked at the screen.
It was his contact inside the Met.
Chapter 45
Kelly stared at her computer screen. A text from Matt informed her that he was on a train travelling north. She groaned inwardly: he hadn’t wasted any time. She was desperate for distraction and to avoid the problems of the moment; she wanted to be anywhere else right now, and was thankful that she was meeting Ted and Johnny for a quick lunch, though she wasn’t hungry.
She called Tilly Knight to see if she’d got hold of Alexandros. Tilly told her that she had, and that he’d taken his mother to the villa in the mountains, but before he left, he’d seen two men watching his house. No one outside of the Met knew that Skarparis was in Cyprus, except the brigadier and the colonel at the MoD.
Kelly went next door to talk to Rob, mainly because she couldn’t sit still, but also to ask if his matrix had thrown anything else up.
‘Those solicitors are digging their heels in,’ Rob told her. ‘I’ve spoken to our legal department, and special warrants apply to disputed wills. It’s complicated, that’s all, and might take a bit more time. If they were amenable, it would take minutes, but they’re making us jump through every hoop.’
‘I wonder why they would do that. Surely they wouldn’t be that awkward by choice. Do solicitors have solicitors?’
Rob laughed. ‘Yes! Can you believe it?’
‘Who are they? Can you find out who else they represent? I’m popping out to sort Mum’s house. I’ll be about an hour.’
She walked into town and saw Ted standing outside a sandwich shop. He looked like any other smart, respectable gentleman and she felt affection inside her chest. Before she reached him, Johnny arrived and she watched the two men embrace. They laughed at a shared joke and Ted put his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. She stopped walking. Her throat constricted and the unexpected wave of emotion overwhelmed her. The two men in her life, waiting for her arrival; decades and lives apart but together because of her. She composed herself and went to greet them.
Ted kissed her on her cheek and Johnny on the lips. It always amused her to see him in an urban environment because he stuck out like a sore thumb, with his flip-flops (albeit an expensive leather pair), shaggy hair and tanned skin. She’d never envisaged ending up with such a man, and she hadn’t really stopped to ponder his attractions. She walked in between the two of them and hooked her arms through theirs. She could swear that Ted stuck out his chest a little.
‘In here?’ she suggested. It was a small, locally run bakery that did fabulous baguettes. They went inside the shop and chose lunch to take away.
Wendy’s keys were due to be handed over in two weeks’ time, but there were various items that still needed to be moved out. Nikki had already trawled through the property, taking what she wanted to remember her mother by, but Kelly had avoided it. Ted had said he’d go with her, and finally they’d found time. Not going in alone appealed to Kelly, and she felt better equipped with the two men by her side. It wasn’t that she was in danger of breaking down; it was more that she didn’t know how she’d react to being inside the lifeless property without her mother in it. She was scared of the silence more than the threat of hysterics. In a way, she wished her sister would turn up and throw things, bemoaning her misfortune. It would offer a diversion from the realisation that soon they wouldn’t be able to visit their childhood home. When she considered it properly, though, she knew that she wanted her last experience of the tiny terrace to be peaceful.
They drove in silence and the reason for their gathering sat heavily inside the car, their delight about seeing one another fading. Johnny munched hungrily on his ham and cheese baguette, while Ted ate an oat biscuit. As they approached the street, familiarity mixed with strangeness swept over Kelly. Even the facade of the house looked different. Her stomach churned over and Johnny reached from the back seat to squeeze her shoulder. Ted took out a handkerchief and dabbed the corners of his eyes.
Johnny got out of the car first and closed his door. Kelly turned to Ted.
‘I wish you’d got back together earlier and enjoyed more time.’
‘You have no idea how much I agree with that,’ he said. His eyes were red and she reached out to take his hand. Johnny waited outside, allowing them to take their time. Finally they got out of the car and Kelly found the keys.
Once inside, she instantly wanted to run away. The smell was the thing she hadn’t expected. It was her mother – her hair, her perfume, her clothes: her whole memory was etched into the fabric of the place. She put her hand up to her mouth and turned away from Ted and Johnny. Her eyes took in the furniture and trinkets still standing in their places. She saw nothing obvious that she wanted to keep: just everything.
‘I don’t know what to take.’ It was a simple statement.
‘You said you might pack everything and take your time with it,’ Johnny said helpfully. ‘You can keep it at mine until you’re ready to decide. It’s maybe too early.’
‘When do you hand over the keys?’ Ted asked.
‘Two weeks.’ She turned away from them, predictably unexpected tears stinging her eyes.
‘That’s plenty of time to arrange packing and removal. If you’re not ready to part with any of it, then keep it, like Johnny said. I’ve got bags of room as well.’
She smiled at both of them.
‘Take anything you’d like, Ted. It’s what she’d want.’ She left them, heading for the stairs.
The smell was stronger as she walked into her mother’s bedroom. Her hairdryer was still on the dressing table, and a jacket sat on the back of a chair. Her purse was on the bedside cabinet, as well as a whole array of pills, none of which had saved her in the end. It had been almost six months, but it still looked the same.
Kelly knelt beside the bed, because she didn’t know what else to do.
Why had she left it this long? Nikki had taken what she wanted. Kelly felt the familiar pang of self-reproach. Without Mum, there was no point in seeing her sister. The last time they’d been together, Nikki had questioned why Kelly was hanging about with an older man, making a fool of herself, taking him everywhere with her; insinuating some kind of fling with Ted. No doubt Dave Crawley would be sitting in her house right now, given a hero’s return, and they’d be discussing how Kelly had stitched him up. Leave them to it, she thought.
She buried her head in the duvet and took in the strong aroma of a woman who had died far too soon. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up into Ted’s eyes. She hadn’t heard him coming up the stairs and she didn’t know how long she’d been there, on her mother’s bedroom floor. Her vision was blurry and she knew she was crying, but she was making no sound. He struggled to kneel down and sit down beside her, holding her in his arms. It was one of the most pleasant places she’d ever been. They stayed like that for long minutes and Kelly allowed herself to be weak for a moment. Inside his embrace was an unconditional place that she rarely encountered, and the succour was overwhelming.
When she pulled away, it was with a feeling of renewed strength and energy, and she made her mind up that she would phone the removal company and get everything packed up. If she got rid of it all now, she knew she’d regret it. She had room at home to store it all, as well as Johnny and Ted’s offers should there turn out to be too much. She’d been warned by the removal company that people often underestimated what lurked inside the cupboards and drawers of a house inhabited for generations and virtually untouched.
‘Is there anything you’d like?’ she asked Ted.
He shook his head. ‘She’s in here.’ He pointed to his chest. ‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to help me up, though.’
Kelly smiled and did as he requested. ‘I can’t get rid of anything yet.’
‘Good idea. It can’t be rushed.’
‘Thank you for coming with me.’
‘Not at all. You’re working hard – you always work hard – but you need to take care of yourself too. And him down there…’ he pointed to the floor. ‘He’s a good man, and he loves you, Kelly. I should know.’
She smiled. ‘I know. Come on, let’s go downstairs. Wait a minute, there was a photo on her dressing table… Look, here it is. That’s me, I must have been three months old. Would you like it?’
Ted looked at her and his mouth opened, but no words came out. It was something that Kelly was unfamiliar with: a pathologist being lost for words. At last he nodded.
‘Good.’ She walked out of the room and went downstairs to Johnny with a lighter heart. She reckoned she could leave now without regret, and she looked around for one last time. The keys would be handled by the estate agent and the packing company she’d spoken to had said they’d probably only need a day to get everything ready for storage.
She went to Johnny and allowed him to hold her. Ted came downstairs and she smiled at him over Johnny’s shoulder.
‘Can I drop you home, Ted?’ She was more than happy to drive him back to Keswick.
‘No, I’m seeing an old friend in Penrith; you can take me back into town. What are your plans?’
‘My colleague from London is on his way here. I don’t really know why he’s coming – I don’t need him here – but I’ve got to get back to work.’
They left the house and Kelly locked the door. She took a deep breath and they got back into the car. She still had no interest in her baguette.
After they’d dropped Ted back to the centre of town, Kelly delayed turning the engine back on. Johnny asked about her visiting colleague. Her heart rate elevated and she looked out of the window.
‘I would have thought he was better off in London, from what you’ve said. Is it normal for the Met to send coppers to the sticks?’
The phrase jolted her and she heard Matt’s voice.
‘I think he’s trying to wind me up. The thing is, we were seeing each other for a while, before I came here, before I met you…’ Her voice was nervy, but Johnny’s face showed no sign of change. She sensed herself blushing and her hands shook, even though they were gripping the wheel tightly.
‘And this week was the first time you’d seen him since?’
She nodded.
‘And he’s working the same investigation?’
Another nod. She stared ahead. The traffic slowed.
‘Is there something you want to tell me?’ He got straight to the point.
‘I think he thinks I’ve still got feelings for him. But I haven’t. I can’t stand him.’
‘Something must have made him believe that’s the case. Did something happen in London?’
‘No!’ She said it far too quickly.
‘You spent almost a week with him, and you never mentioned it.’
‘I didn’t know he’d be the SIO!’
‘God, he must be so pissed off that he let you go.’ He smiled at her and took her hand. ‘Why are you so nervous?’
‘I thought you’d be…’
‘What? Jealous?’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘A bit, but I also love you. He’s coming here?’
She nodded.
‘Can I meet him?’
‘Oh no!’
‘Why? I can wind him up. Is this the one who stabbed you in the back?’
‘Same.’
‘Now I get it. You were sleeping with him. No wonder it hurt.’
She looked away.
‘So you’re not tempted to move back there?’ he asked.
‘Is that what you were worried about?’ She looked back at him.
He stared down at his hands. She brushed hair away from his eyes and leant over to kiss him. Three years ago, she’d thought Matt Carter was ‘the one’; now it was difficult to believe that she’d settle for less than what was right in front of her.
‘Do you want me to beat him up?’ Johnny smiled broadly and winked.
Chapter 46
The white van, with the graffiti still scrawled on the back of it, had been found in London. It had been pulled over for having a number plate hanging off. Upon further inspection, it was revealed that the number was fake and that it was partially covering the genuine one. The vehicle wasn’t registered, but the occupants had been detained under caution and the plate had been put through the PNC. They had a match and they had three more suspects. One of them had mentioned Leo Brown, who’d already mentioned the three of them in interview. Things were falling into place.
They could prove that the van had visited both George and Alexandros’s houses, and the graffiti on the back matched Graeme Millar’s sighting in Portinscale. Soil analysis from the tyres would make it watertight, but that would take time. Fingerprints and DNA had been taken from the three occupants of the van and were being fed through the national database. They were also fed into HOLMES, in the hope of finding a match from evidence gathered at one of their sites of interest. The three men were interviewed at a station in Shoreditch. Each of them was pointing the finger at the other and trying to wriggle out of giving straight answers to straight questions. It was customary to expect this kind of behaviour from groups brought in together: each wondering what the other was saying and shaping their answers to come across in the best light, whilst damning their mates.
CCTV footage showed the three of them in the van near George’s house, and a neighbour
had positively identified them from photographs shown to her by a patrol unit. Pieces were falling into place, but for the investigation to move forward, they needed to find something on the big boys. Brown and the three thugs in custody were mere cogs in a wheel. Matt kept a close eye on the interviews by audio and video as he sipped a coffee on the train.
The first hint that they were close to something was when one of the suspects admitted to seeing a gun. The interviewing officers nailed him down, sensing an unravelling. Each interview was linked by audio and video to the SIO and Hendon.
‘Tell us exactly what happened.’
They’d been questioned for five hours, and fatigue was setting in.
‘I didn’t do nothing, I swear. I had no idea what we were going for.’ It was a usual response.
‘Where were you going to do nothing?’
‘Up north.’
‘Specific?’
‘The lake. I can’t remember the name, I was no good at geography, but it took ages to get there. We stayed in a guest house in this tiny town.’
‘Who drove?’
‘Ken.’
‘Kenneth Chubb? For the tape, I’m showing the suspect a photograph of Kenneth Chubb.’
He nodded.
‘For the tape?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was the town Keswick?’
‘Yeah, that’s it. They speak funny up there, couldn’t understand a word.’
‘Carry on.’
‘We got there Friday but I did nothing until Sunday. I went and got fish and chips and sat in a few pubs. They told me to go with them on the Sunday and we drove into the arse end of nowhere. It was pitch black. But I saw that Leo had a gun. He always carries one, man.’
‘For the purposes of the tape, the witness is being shown evidence number LB/02. Was it this gun?’
‘No idea. It was dark.’
‘The witness has not positively identified the weapon. Was it a handgun, though?’
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