by Sally Rigby
‘I don’t know.’
‘Have you introduced him to your friends?’
‘I don’t know anyone to introduce him to, apart from work colleagues, and that’s not going to happen.’
‘I’m sorry, I forgot you don’t mix with many people.’
‘I have a wide range of acquaintances, but no one I see socially.’
Whitney could relate to that. She was so busy with family and work she hadn’t caught up with any of her friends in months. They probably didn’t even remember who she was.
‘Why don’t you bring him to my concert?’ she suggested.
‘When is it?’
‘We’ve got one coming up in a few weeks, in a local hall. We’re also preparing for a big one in November. All the Rock Choirs in the Midlands are getting together. I’ve been asked to do a solo.’
‘I’d definitely like to come to that one. I haven’t heard you sing before.’
‘I’d love you to be there.’ She rarely invited people to see her perform, as she liked to keep that part of her life separate. But with George it was different.
‘I can bring Tiffany with me, too.’
‘You can, but there’ll also be Mum and Rob.’
‘No problem. I’ll bring everyone.’
‘What about Ross, can you get him in the car as well?’
‘We’re talking about over four months’ time. I’ve no idea if I will be seeing him then.’ George shrugged, but Whitney wasn’t fooled. She was being fobbed off.
‘Except you’ve already asked him to the wedding, so my guess is you think you will be.’
‘How did we get back to talking about my relationship again? You’re so devious.’
‘Not devious, just interested. Hopefully, you’ll still be seeing him. I like the change he’s brought out in you.’
‘I think you’re talking nonsense,’ George said.
The train jolted and Whitney’s attention was diverted as they pulled away from the platform. They were finally on their way.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sunday, 23 June
‘Right, we’re just coming into Rugby, the stop where Thackeray might be getting on,’ Whitney said.
George peered out of the window as the train pulled into the station. There were fifteen people on the platform. Four men on their own. Two had their heads down and one was wearing a baseball cap. Impossible to see their faces clearly.
Witney’s phone pinged. ‘It’s Matt. He said there’s a man on his train he’s keeping an eye on.’
‘Has he got a scar on his face?’ George asked.
‘He didn’t say. I’ll text and ask.’ Shortly after, a text arrived back. ‘They can’t get close enough to him, but they’re on the alert. I’m going for a walk. Sitting still is driving me crazy,’ Whitney said, jumping up from her seat.
‘Do you think that’s wise, in case he’s on here?’
‘I’ll go through the next carriage to the toilet. It might give Ellie peace of mind if she actually sees me. Also, everyone’s got their earpieces and mics on, so we’ll be in contact.’
‘Okay, I’ll see you when you get back.’
George watched Whitney leave their carriage. Although Whitney didn’t stop to speak, she briefly turned her head in Ellie’s direction and gave a small nod. In her earpiece, George heard Whitney whispering, ‘Are you okay,’ and Ellie replying, ‘Yes.’
She was distracted by her phone ringing, and when she pulled it out of her bag, she saw it was Ross. Should she answer? She supposed it wouldn’t hurt.
‘George here,’ she said.
‘Ross here,’ he said.
She smiled to herself. She liked his sense of humour; it was easy and light. ‘I’m working at the moment.’
‘I thought there were no students in over the holidays.’
‘I’m working with Whitney on a case.’
‘Is it secret?’
‘I’ll tell you when I see you. Well, not all of it, but certainly some.’
‘I’d like to meet Whitney sometime,’ he said.
‘Not you too.’ Did they have a hotline to each other?
‘What do you mean?’
‘That’s what she said about you.’
‘In that case, we’ll have to arrange something.’
‘She’s invited us to one of her concerts. She sings in the Rock Choir and there’s a big concert in November.’ Why did she mention the November date? He’d think she had long-term plans for them.
‘That’s a long time to wait. Why don’t we fix a time for us all to go out for drink? Does she have a partner?’
‘No, but we could invite her daughter, Tiffany, along.’
‘Okay. I’ll leave you to arrange it.’
‘Did you phone for anything in particular?’ she asked.
‘I wanted to share my news, and you’re the first person I’ve called. I’ve won an award for one of my sculptures.’
He phoned her first. Why?
‘Congratulations. Tell me about it.’
‘It’s the Havelock Prize for Sculpture, which is awarded for significant contribution to modern sculpture. There’s going to be a fancy awards dinner in London. Will you come with me?’
It was strange that she was the first person he wanted to tell, and not his family or friends. Did it mean their relationship was becoming more serious? How did she feel about that? She wasn’t going to move in with him. She’d had her fingers burnt with Stephen and was nowhere near ready for commitment. But she didn’t want her relationship with Ross to end. She enjoyed where they were at the moment.
‘I’d be delighted to go with you.’
‘We can stay in a nice hotel overnight. It’s on a Saturday in six weeks’ time.’
‘I’ll look forward to it. Thank you for inviting me. I really need to go now.’
‘Very secret squirrel,’ he said.
‘This is serious.’ Why would he make light of it? She’d explained she was working on something.
‘I know. I was only joking.’
Why hadn’t she realised?
‘Oh. Okay.’
‘Are we still on for Wednesday evening?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I’ll be over at seven,’ she said, remembering they’d arranged for him to cook her a meal.
‘Bring your overnight bag and you can stay over.’
‘That would be nice.’
She ended the call and stared out of the window, imagining how the meeting between Ross and Whitney would go. It would—
A sound from behind made her start. Who was there?
She turned her head and gasped.
A man with brown hair, falling in clumps around his pointed jaw, towered over her. Down the side of his face was a jagged scar.
Ben Thackeray.
Her phone fell from her hands, and her mouth went dry.
‘Whitney,’ she yelped into the mic, only to be met by dead air. It was off.
She reached to turn it on, but before she could his arm shot around in front of her, a cloth in his hand. Chloroform. She lifted her arm, attempting to stop him from smothering her, but he was much stronger than she was. Using every last bit of strength she could muster, she managed to turn her head and at same time switch on the mic.
‘Help,’ she cried as she pushed back and knocked him away. But he came back and grabbed hold of her hair. She kicked out and caught him on the leg, causing him to yell out. She tried to stand up and shove him out of the way, but he regrouped and pushed her back in the seat, while grabbing hold of her head and managing to bring his arm around to her face.
She didn’t want to die.
She fought again as the cloth in his hand got closer to her face. As if in slow motion, a sickly-sweet smell enveloped her and she began to feel woozy. In the distance, she heard the carriage door open, and suddenly he was being pulled off her.
Whitney held on to Thackeray’s arm, but he pulled away and took off through the open carriage door, pushing aside the two officers
who’d been following as she’d come to rescue George.
Someone had pulled the emergency stop lever and the train had come to a halt just as it was coming into Banbury station. Thackeray opened the exit door, jumped, and ran along the tracks. He leapt onto the platform.
Whitney followed—no way was he getting away. ‘Suspect heading along platform,’ she yelled into her mic. She could see him up ahead and pushed herself forward, gradually making up ground. He turned to look at her and tripped over a suitcase belonging to a woman waiting for the train. He hauled himself up, but in those intervening seconds Whitney managed to reach him. She grabbed him from behind, pulling him on top of her, just as her officers came running off the train. She rolled him off her, leapt to her feet, then grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a standing position. He didn’t resist.
‘Ben Thackeray, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murders of Hugo Holmes-Reed, Lena Kirk, and Neil Thomas. And the attempted murder of Georgina Cavendish. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?’
Whitney handcuffed his wrists and gave him to the two officers standing behind her. ‘Make sure he doesn’t move. We’ll transport him to Lenchester as soon as we can.’
As they took him away, Whitney got back on the train and ran to find George.
George opened her eyes when she heard the carriage door open. Whitney charged in and rushed over to her. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I think so, yes.’ She swallowed hard. ‘My head hurts and I feel a bit sick, but he didn’t actually press the cloth over my nose. It was being close to the smell that’s made me a bit out of it.’
‘I don’t want you passing out on me,’ Whitney said.
‘Thank goodness you got here in time. I can’t believe we didn’t see or hear him come into our carriage. He came at me from behind.’
‘The main thing is you’re okay. We’ll find out more when we get him back to the station.’
‘I want to be there when you speak to him.’
‘Once we get back to Lenchester, we’re getting you some medical attention. We don’t know whether the chloroform is going to have any lasting effects. It’s got to be checked out.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, her voice weak.
‘It’s not up for discussion. You’ll be heading straight to the hospital for a check-up. If they say you’re okay, then I’ll allow you to watch the interview. Oh, no …’
‘What?’
‘Jamieson’s going to go off on one, big time. He made me promise not to involve you. Those were his terms for allowing you to be here.’
‘It wasn’t intentional.’
‘No, but we should have put you in protective clothing, just in case.’
‘Don’t tell him.’
‘That’s it. We’re definitely getting you checked out. The chloroform has obviously affected you. No way would the George I know suggest we keep something like that a secret.’
‘Don’t be silly. I’ve told you nothing’s wrong with me. All I have is a slight headache, and that’s not going to hurt me. Chloroform can be lethal, but not the slight amount I inhaled.’ She tried to sound normal, but it was an effort. More than she was prepared to let on. If Whitney knew, she’d feel guilty, and it wasn’t her fault.
‘I hear you, but like I said, it’s not up for discussion. I want you fit and well because we’re going to have a big celebration once we’ve sorted out this guy.’
The furthest thing from her mind was attending a celebration, but she’d keep that thought to herself.
‘Okay,’ she agreed.
‘I’m going to have a word with Ellie. Will you be okay on your own for a few moments?’ Whitney asked.
‘Yes, I’m fine. You go.’
George closed her eyes, hoping it would ease the headache. But all that happened was her mind flew back to the incident. To how close she’d been to being killed. If Whitney had been much longer, he could well have stabbed her, and she’d be dead. She hadn’t even considered that a possibility when she’d asked to be on the train. Her breath caught in the back of her throat. If she’d died, she would never have seen Whitney, Tiffany, or Ross ever again.
Whitney hurried into the incident room.
‘I’m sure you’ve all heard we’ve managed to capture the Carriage Killer and he’s in custody downstairs. I’m going to interview him soon.’
‘How’s Dr Cavendish?’ Matt asked.
‘The hospital gave her the all clear. She was lucky all she had was a waft of chloroform and no more.’
‘How is she in herself? She must have had a shock being in such a dangerous situation,’ Matt said.
Guilty feelings for what had happened to George hadn’t left her since the attack. She shouldn’t have let her come on such a dangerous operation.
‘I’ll be speaking to her later. Knowing George, I’m sure she’ll be fine and will take it in her stride.’
She only said that because she didn’t think George would want to be discussed in this way by everyone.
The phone on the desk rang. She picked up. ‘Walker.’
‘Detective Superintendent Jamieson would like to see you in his office,’ her boss’s assistant said.
‘I’ll be right up.’
She hurried to Jamieson’s office, gently tapped on the open door, and walked in.
‘Walker, congratulations. This is a huge coup for our team. I’m going to make a big announcement during the press conference later.’
‘Thank you, sir. I haven’t yet interviewed the prisoner, but I’m going there next with DI Gardner. It really was a joint operation.’
‘That’s extremely magnanimous of you, Walker, but I know the bulk of the work was done by our team. Still, I’m happy for us to share the limelight now the murderer is off the streets. Or should I say, off the tracks.’ He laughed at his own joke.
He clearly hadn’t heard what happened with George. Should she tell him? As much as she didn’t want to, it was probably best to do it now, while he was so upbeat about everything, rather than leave him to find out later.
‘There is something you need to know, sir.’
‘What’s that?’
‘When we captured Thackeray, he was attacking Dr Cavendish. She managed to hold him off, so he wasn’t able to sedate her, although she did inhale some chloroform fumes. Not enough to cause any damage, though.’
‘What was she doing in the killer’s vicinity? I told you she wasn’t to be part of the immediate operation.’
‘Until I’ve interviewed the prisoner, I’m not sure how he got into the end carriage. I thought George would be safe there. We’d actually set up DC Ellie Naylor to be the target in the carriage next door. We were all mic’d up, so Dr Cavendish was able to call for help, and we got there in time.’
He stared at her, shaking his head. ‘I’m really not happy about this, Walker. Especially after my explicit instructions. We can’t afford to put Dr Cavendish in danger. She’s not a police officer. She’s here to assist.’
‘Yes, sir. I understand. It won’t happen again.’
‘Make sure it doesn’t. I want you with me at the press conference later. Tidy yourself up a bit before then.’
What the hell was that about? She glanced down. She did look a mess after the scuffle with the prisoner. But of course she’d make sure she was presentable to meet the press. How could he think otherwise?
‘I always do, sir. I’m going to interview the prisoner, now. I’ll let you know if he says anything we can use in the press conference. I’ll liaise with Melissa to find out what time it’s going to be, and I’ll come back here thirty minutes beforehand, so we can go over it. If that’s okay with you?’
‘Yes, that’s fine. You can go now. Well done.’
Why did she feel like a pet being praised for good behaviour?
She left the office and we
nt back to the incident room. When she got there, she saw George and Matt talking.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘You said I could watch the interview if I was given the all clear. Which I have been.’
‘Come with me,’ she said.
They walked through the incident room and into her office. She closed the door behind them.
‘There’s nothing wrong with me,’ George said.
‘Sit down, I want to talk to you.’
‘If this is about the after-effects of the chloroform then—’
‘No, it’s not that. I’m so sorry for what happened. I shouldn’t have put you in a position where your life was in danger. I’m the police officer. Not you. I—’
‘Whitney, stop. It was my choice.’ George held up her hand.
‘But I was in charge of the operation. I also want to talk to you about what happened.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You might feel okay now, but there could be some repercussions for you mentally. You know this from your work, and what happened to Tiffany.’
George nodded slowly. ‘I know. At the time I did feel my life was on the line, but you saved me.’
‘What would you be saying to me if it was the other way around?’ she asked, taking a different approach.
George was quiet for a moment. ‘I’d suggest you talk to someone about the incident.’
‘Exactly. I’d like you to see the police counsellor.’
A pensive expression crossed George’s face. Was she going to agree?
‘I’ll go,’ George said.
‘Really?’ Whitney couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. She’d thought it would be much harder to get George to agree.
‘Yes, really. I’m not stupid. I do know what can happen. I won’t see the police counsellor, though. I’ll go to the woman Tiffany went to. I know she’s good.’
‘That’s great. I’m really pleased. I’ve been in similar situations myself, and I know it can hit you when you’re least expecting it.’
‘Does that mean I can now be part of the interview with Ben Thackeray?’
‘Yes, we’ll collect Terry on the way.’
