by Jay Gill
Monica looked serious for moment. ‘I wanted to be alone with you. I didn’t want to have to share you with anyone else. This is nice, just you and me. It means we can talk without interruption.’
I had to admit she was right. We’d both dressed up and she looked stunning, and I was really enjoying being alone with her. Equally, I would have enjoyed the feeling of walking into a restaurant with her by my side. That was a feeling I still had to look forward to.
The meal wasn’t a complete disaster. The risotto was a little overcooked but I think I got away with it. I poured us both another glass of wine.
‘Are you ready for desert?’ I asked as I began to clear the plates.
‘Not right now. There’s something we need to talk about. I can’t leave it any longer.’
I put the plates on the side and sat back down. Monica looked concerned and I was worried she’d had second thoughts about us. My throat went dry as I tried to read her expression. Was she ending this before we’d even started?
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Is this about anything in particular?’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
‘I’m not quite sure where to start so I’ll just come straight out with it,’ said Monica. She looked serious and I could feel my chest tighten and my heart begin to pound. I took a sip of wine and sat back to listen.
‘This is really bad timing; I know that. For a long time, I’d wondered whether you and I might turn into something. Eventually, I decided I was being selfish and that I needed to move on with my life. I needed to plan for the future.
‘Don’t get me wrong. I love Alice and Faith, you know that. I love them more than anything else in this world. But for a long time, I’ve felt I was living in a kind of fantasy and that one day that fantasy would end. I’ve decided the best thing for all of us is for me to find my own way.
‘I want to help you heal, and I’m worried you might never do that. Helena will always be a big part of your life. I don’t see you truly moving on, James. You can’t let go. It’s like she’s still here – and that’s fine. Don’t misunderstand me. That is absolutely fine. Maybe it’s as it should be for you and the girls.’ Monica took a deep breath before continuing. ‘But it’s time I moved on, to give you space to find who you are now. I have a new job and I will be leaving. I’m sorry. This isn’t how I had expected this to be when I told you.’
I was stunned. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.
‘I don’t understand,’ I said. ‘I thought this is what we both wanted. I’m not sure what to say.’ I felt hurt; I felt stupid. I felt like I’d missed my opportunity to feel love again. My chance of happiness was being snatched away from me before it had even begun. ‘You make it sound like this is final and we’re over before we start. Where are you going? We can still see each other, surely?’
‘I do want to see where we might go. I still do. I just wonder whether you need to find yourself first. And that is fine.’ Monica reached out and held my hand. ‘I’m not asking for anything. It’s simply time for change, and it has been for a long time. I just didn’t want to face it before now.’
‘What are you saying? I want to make this work. I want to give it a try. I may have taken my time but I am ready now, for us. I’m confused. This is your home, Monica. I work here. The school is right on the doorstep. The girls grew up here; we all have memories here. It was Helena herself who invited you to stay when you needed a refuge from Scott. Doesn’t this feel like your home too? This is your home.’ But even as I said it, I knew she was right. All the examples were about me or the girls. In truth, she would always feel like a guest. My mind was going so fast I was finding it difficult to separate emotion from logic.
‘I’ve been offered a position at a school in France,’ Monica said. ‘I’ll be teaching English to French children. It’s a private school for the children of wealthy French families. It’s very well paid and a terrific opportunity. I think it’s for the best, James. I think it’s best for the both of us.’
I was reeling and frantic inside. My thoughts tumbled over each other. I couldn’t lose her. Why did I have to understand my feelings too late? What were these feelings? Why hadn’t I considered that Monica wanted a life and that life might not include me? I felt foolish. I’d taken her for granted, something I vowed I’d never do, and now it was too late to tell her how I felt about her. I wanted to say so much but instead I felt nothing but loss.
‘When do you leave?’ was all I could manage.
‘They would like me to start as soon I can. They are just waiting for me to sign the agreement.’
‘How long will you be gone?’
‘Three months initially, and then, assuming everything goes well, the agreement is for three years.’
I’d hoped for an evening of surprises, just not a surprise like this. I needed time to let it all sink in. ‘Does anyone else know?’ I said numbly.
‘Not yet. Only you.’
We sat in silence for a moment, both thinking the same thing: How would we tell Alice and Faith.
‘I’ll speak to the girls,’ I said. My voice sounded like it was coming from another room.
‘Why don’t we talk to them together? It might be easier.’
‘Yes, that would be nice.’ My head and my heart were in turmoil. I needed to feel happy for Monica, but how could I? I wanted to say so much but I couldn’t think. I was so shocked I couldn’t form a sentence. Instead, I asked inane questions about accommodation and which part of France and the working hours. Deep down, I knew this would be a good opportunity for Monica, and I could tell she’d thought a lot about it. Was I being selfish? Probably, I thought glumly. Monica was a strong, independent woman and she’d put her life on hold for us. No matter how much it hurt, I needed to let her go.
‘Is this what you really want?’ I said, trying not to let my voice break.
Monica squeezed my hand. ‘I think it’s best for all of us. Yes, it’s time to start over.’
I reluctantly held up my glass. ‘To starting over.’
‘To starting over.’
Chapter Thirty-Nine
‘The hotel manager found the body when she came to check the rooms. The fire alarms went off around four this morning. When checking the bookings list, she discovered a guest was missing. Guests also believe they heard gunshots right before the alarms went off.’ Rayner pushed open the bathroom door to reveal the slumped body of Redwood.
‘So, who have we got here?’
‘We’re not sure yet. We’ve not had time to identify him. He has no ID on him.’
‘And this is the missing guest, I presume?’ I crouched beside the body.
‘Nope. According to staff, this fella isn’t a guest. The missing guest is a male called Jared Vaughan, and that’s why I called you.’
I got to my feet and followed Rayner out of the room to a quiet spot in the corridor.
‘Are you ready for this?’ Rayner was almost whispering now, as if saying it loudly might somehow change what he’d uncovered. ‘I think the missing guest, Jared Vaughan, is your man. That’s why I called you. I think he’s your sniper.’
I moved Rayner further down the corridor, away from the flurry of people at the crime scene. ‘You’ve got my attention,’ I said.
‘This is all a bit sketchy right now, so bear with me. Jared Vaughan has a dead body in his hotel room and he’s nowhere to be seen. I spoke with reception and they confirmed Vaughan checked in a few hours after the shooting of Ben Drummond in Leicester Square. I’ve spoken to his wife and she confirmed he hasn’t been home for the last few days. Seems they had a bit of a domestic, if you know what I mean. She couldn’t tell me his movements for the last few days. What she could tell me, though, was that until eighteen months ago Vaughan was a Royal Marine. I’m getting some images from the hotel’s CCTV. We should have a face we can match to his military record in no time.’ Rayner had a big smile on his face.
‘Is that it? Bloody paper thin, isn’t it? I thought the way you were
talking you’d smashed the case wide open. I hope you’ve got more than that.’ I was tired, and I was far too frustrated with this investigation for Rayner to be pissing around.
Rayner pretended to look hurt. ‘Of course I have. I was saving the best for last. What do you think Vaughan’s specialism was in the Marines?’
I had no problem guessing. ‘When was your sniper last seen?’
‘We’re going to have to go over local CCTV footage to work that out, too. We’re also trying to get hold of the night manager and night receptionist. They went home before we arrived.’
‘That’s bloody handy.’
‘I know. It’s all a bit of a mess right now, but I think we just got our first break.’
I thought about my conversation with Olsen and how anyone associated with this investigation might be in the firing line. Was the dead guy back in the room a loose end? Was that why he was dead? ‘Who else knows about this?’
‘No one. As far as anyone else is concerned, the dead giant back there could be just another dead pimp or dealer.’
‘I need you to keep it that way. And I need you to watch your back.’
Rayner was excited and feeling invincible, the way he sometimes does. ‘Always do – when I’m not watching your back, that is.’ He laughed and slapped my back.
‘I’m serious. If this Jared Vaughan is our man, then we’re closing in on him and the others behind these killings. I’m telling you, you need to watch your back.’ It had been a while since Rayner had seen me this on edge.
‘Okay, okay. Friends in high places – I’ve got it.’ He was finding it hard to contain his excitement, but he could see I was serious.
‘What’s the address for Jared’s wife? I want to speak to her today.’ Rayner copied down the address from his notes and handed it to me. ‘Call me as soon as you know who that lump is, lying dead back there. Hopefully, that’ll help us figure out why Vaughan killed him. And I do believe Vaughan killed him. The only question is why he killed him. Why were they fighting? Was he Vaughan’s partner? Was he a loose end? Did they argue over money? Why leave the body for us to find?
‘If Vaughan is the shooter, then why has he made no effort to cover his tracks here? Is he sending a message? What does Vaughan’s wife know? Is she going to be straight with me or lead me around in circles for a while?’ I was talking to myself now, the way I sometimes do when I have more questions than answers.
Rayner watched me and smiled to himself. He was probably imagining the puzzle pieces trying to align themselves in my brain as I tried to work out where they all fit.
‘If you want to catch a killer, it helps to think like a killer,’ I said to him by way of explanation.
Trouble is, that often leads you to very dark and uncomfortable places.
Chapter Forty
I had no idea I was being watched. The hotel car park was full, so I’d parked a few metres away in a side road. For my shadow, that was a stroke of luck.
I left the hotel and walked the short distance to my car. It was mild out, and after the stale air of the overheated hotel, the fresh air felt good.
He waited until I unlocked the car and got in. He sprinted the short distance to the car, threw open the back door and got in directly behind me. He immediately pressed a gun to my head.
‘Don’t do anything stupid. Just start the car and drive.’ He pressed the end of the gun hard into the side of my head again to let him know he was serious. ‘Start moving the car now or I will blow your fucking brains out.’
Whoever it was wanted something. If that wasn’t the case, I’d be dead already. I started the car and calmly headed down the one-way street. I checked the rear-view mirror to see if I could get a glimpse of who was behind me. No luck. He’d ducked down behind the seat.
‘Which way do you want me to go?’
‘Up ahead is a multi-storey car park. Go there, and head to the lower floor. People don’t like to walk, so there are usually spaces furthest away from the lift.’
I did as I was told. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?’ I asked solemnly.
‘Just drive. Take a right up here and the car park is up on the left side. There – see it?’
‘I see it.’ We drove in silence for a few minutes as I followed instructions. Eventually we parked on the bottom floor, in a quiet area, well away from the stairs and the lifts. I kept my hands on the steering wheel. We sat quietly for another short while, but I knew I needed to engage with my passenger. ‘You know, I don’t have any change for the ticket machine. If you have any change on you, now would be a good time hand it over. Perhaps you could just drop it on the front seat beside me. And if you’re going to confess to any criminal activity, could you do it quickly? These London car parks are daylight robbery.’
‘Detective James Hardy, the comedian. Who would have guessed? Instead of thinking up crap jokes, you should be thinking about whether your brains will soon be all over your lap.’
I relaxed a little. Unless I was very wrong, I was in no imminent danger. The tone of this guy’s voice didn’t imply he was an out-of-control junkie or angry and looking to hurt someone. In fact, he sounded calm and in control.
‘It’s my guess you’re not going to kill me, or at least not right away. So how about you lower the gun a little and let’s talk?’
‘You really have got some balls. You know, I’ve read up on you and you’ve really seen some sick stuff. If the devil is real, I figure you’ve met him more than once. What one human being will do to another for pleasure, self-gratification or to simply stay ahead of the game is sickening. Ever wondered why that is? Ever wondered what makes us do the evil things we do? I think everything comes back to fear.’
‘I think about it every day. You’re right; fear is one trigger, I suppose. Fear of a father’s hand. Fear of repeating mistakes. Self-preservation can be motivated by fear. Addicts fear they’ll never get the same high they had their first time. Fear of loss.’ The man had moved into my line of vision in the rear-view mirror, and I noticed the slightest flicker in his eyes.
I turned in my seat and looked at the man, who was now pressed against the corner of the back seat. Jared Vaughan’s eyes were bloodshot and his face pale and bruised. His top lip was swollen and crusted with dried blood.
‘I know loss,’ I said. ‘I’ve lost good friends and family. Loved ones. The pain can be unbearable at times and it never really leaves us. It simply lessens until it’s bearable. We learn to live with it. Sometimes we cherish it. It becomes the reminder of the one we lost. The only remaining emotional connection.’
‘But what if you could prevent it? What if you could stop it from happening? How far would you go, James Hardy? How far would you have gone to prevent your wife’s murder? Would you have killed someone the world is better off without?’
‘No,’ I said. I tried to sound convincing.
‘Bullshit. I can see it in your eyes. I see the hate you carry for the man that did it. You’re no different to me, and I think you know it. I know you would have killed him without hesitation. If you’d known ahead of time, you would have cut out that fucker’s heart. Think about it: Alice and Faith – he took away their mother. No man would allow that given the choice. Especially a man like you. Don’t lie to me. You and I are the same: we do what we must to protect our family. They’re all that matters – so don’t you fucking lie to me. Don’t you dare.’
Chapter Forty-One
A Toyota Prius moved slowly past and parked a few spaces away. We watched as a mother dragged a pushchair from the boot then strapped her young child into it. Carefully, she tucked a soft blanket around the child’s legs, then looked left and right before deciding on the best route out of the car park. I was keen to keep the focus on the here and now and to sustain the conversation.
‘Why are we here? Why like this? You could have just picked up the phone if you’d wanted to talk.’
‘Why not? It’s good to get up close and look a person in the eye.’
>
‘But why take the risk? My guess, Jared Vaughan, is that you’re out of your depth and need help.’
‘So you guessed who I am. I won’t applaud.’ I could see alarm in his eyes; it contrasted sharply with the lack of concern his demeanour suggested. ‘Hand me the gun and I can protect you.’ Vaughan ignored my request and I watched as he looked around to check we were still alone. I decided to push my luck a little more.
‘How did a decorated Royal Marine like yourself end up where you are right now?’ I had no idea whether Vaughan had been decorated but pressed on regardless. I needed to get the conversation moving in a new direction. ‘Afghanistan, I presume. I have a brother who served there. He didn’t say much more than that it was hell. He lost good friends, and even more friends came home either psychologically or physically damaged.’
‘Enough!’ barked Vaughan. ‘The bastards tried to kill me in my bed. My little girl is dying, I did what they wanted and they tried to kill me. Don’t you get it?’
‘Tell me,’ I spoke calmly. ‘You tell me and I can help you.’
‘Listen, I am not giving any names. If I do that, they’ll kill my family too. I need you to understand I was set up from the very start. They squeezed me. They squeezed me so tight. They knew I’d do what I had to, to save her. Every single day I think of nothing but saving her.’
‘Who squeezed you?’ I could see pain in Vaughan’s eyes. His body language spoke of a man trapped. A man looking for answers, a man looking for an exit strategy and knowing he had neither.
‘The deaths are about influencing public opinion. As far as I can make out, I was used so government can push through their legislation. Despite what they say publicly, there are some in government who want war. Probably so they can line their pockets from oil, or trading weapons. I don’t know and I don’t care.’
‘Do you have proof of any of this?’
