The George Elms Trilogy Box Set

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘I can imagine.’ Sarah said.

  George bit down hard on his tongue. There was no way she could have a clue. ‘So are you back down this way for good?’

  ‘Probably — I mean that’s the plan. We’re in with my mum at the moment until we can get a place sorted. But it will be in the area.’

  ‘Okay.’ George tried to quell another feeling that came on quickly: excitement. His wife and child were going to be a twenty-minute drive away. The last year had been nothing but sporadic phone conversations and messaging — and now this! And from nowhere.

  ‘So we won’t be far. We can sort out some regular arrangement for you and Charley. At least once a week or something, but starting with her birthday. She’s missed you.’ Sarah smiled. She was so beautiful, the more so when she was happy.

  ‘Oh God, I’ve missed her too!’ George took a rushed intake of air as his emotions threatened to get the better of him. ‘I’ve got Tuesday booked off. Her birthday. Just let me know times.’

  ‘We’ll sort something. You can have her all afternoon. I didn’t want to bring her today, but does the afternoon suit?’

  ‘That’s fine. Are you not going to be with us?’

  ‘Well, I thought I would give you some time on your own, just the two of you. We can have dinner in the evening maybe? After you’ve done the cinema or whatever you want.’

  ‘Is that what she wants to do? There’s something on at Leeds Castle, I was thinking of taking her there.’

  ‘She’d like that. She can’t wait to see you — I don’t think she’d mind if it was a few hours on a park bench to be honest! She wanted to come today, but I wanted to speak to you first. I didn’t want her here, in case . . . you understand, right?’

  ‘Sure, I understand about today.’ George leant back in his seat. He had been disappointed about today but there was no need to share it. Not now. He was about to get Charley for the best part of a whole day. And on her birthday! He knew he had a stupid smile on his face; there was nothing he could do about that.

  ‘So, an inspector now!’ Sarah was back to watching for his reaction. She peered out over her raised coffee cup.

  ‘Yeah, it’s all pretty new. Just a couple of weeks really.’

  ‘How did that happen? Detective Inspector George Elms! No offence, George, but I had you as the last person they would promote.’

  ‘I know! None taken. I don’t think anyone saw it coming — me included. I suddenly got a nudge in that direction and I sort of went with it. I never expected to actually get the promotion. I just wanted to see look on the faces of certain people when I turned up for my interview. As it turned out I had some really good evidence in my portfolio, I passed the exam and then the interview. Then I was endorsed by someone in senior management and they had no choice but to make me up.’

  ‘Senior management? Who stuck their neck out for you?’

  ‘John Whittaker.’

  ‘Whittaker?’ Sarah seemed to be mulling the name over. ‘Ex-army, right? Older fella. Always stands to attention. We met him at some award ceremony.’

  ‘Well remembered.’

  ‘He’s not the sort of man you forget. We liked him, right?’

  ‘We did yes. We certainly do now. He’s one of the good guys.’

  ‘Few and far between at that place.’

  George couldn’t disagree, not with Sarah. No one had been affected by bad apples in his police force more than her. No one except him, maybe. ‘So here we are.’ George tried to move away from his work. ‘I feel like I’ve missed out on so much. Thanks for all the photos by the way, but I still feel like I’ve missed it all.’ The photos — Sarah had sent through photos of their daughter at significant events. Dressed up for a Harry Potter party, a witch at Halloween, surrounded by presents at Christmas and on a sun-drenched beach during a summer break on a Spanish island. In every one their daughter was beaming with delight, in every one she was getting older, and every one had the ability to stop George in his tracks and bring him to his knees.

  ‘I know. You shouldn’t miss any more George. You understand that I needed to take her away. We both needed space — and time.’

  George did understand. He didn’t like it, but he did understand. His job had brought evil right to their doorstep, to his family home, and George had made the mistake of thinking he could control it. But he hadn’t been able to. Now the threat was gone but the scars and the fear . . . they would take longer.

  ‘You’re back now.’

  ‘I am. I needed to talk about me, too, not just Charley.’

  George was suddenly aware that she had tensed up again, where she seemed to have been starting to relax.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘There’s no easy way, George, you know, I tried to work out how to say it—’

  ‘Just say it then.’

  ‘I’m going to need a divorce.’

  George had picked up his coffee cup. He bumped it back down on the table. Hot coffee slopped over both sides. ‘You didn’t have to break it to me like that!’ He smiled, but he kept his eyes downwards on his drink.

  ‘I did say there was no easy way.’

  ‘I guess not.’

  ‘Are you surprised?’

  ‘Well, yes. I mean I didn’t think we were there yet. Obviously I was way off.’

  ‘We’ve been apart for what, two years? More than that, really. Can you really say it hasn’t even crossed your mind?’

  ‘Divorce? Never.’

  ‘That I might ask?’

  ‘No, never.’ George was aware that his voice carried an edge. He supped back at his coffee to try and calm his mind.

  ‘Well, then, I’m even more sorry if this is a bit of a shock. I didn’t think it would be totally out of the blue. We don’t need to talk about it now, I’ll give you a little bit of time to get used to the idea and we can talk again.’

  ‘Get used to the idea?’

  ‘You know what I mean, George.’

  ‘I don’t think I do. This isn’t changing the wallpaper in the living room, Sarah. This is everything to me. I know we have been spending time apart and I know the reasons for that, but they were all about you feeling safe, you and Charley.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So who is he then?’

  ‘Who is who?’

  ‘Don’t play games. You said you needed a divorce. The only reason you would need a divorce is if you wanted to get married. So who is he?’

  Sarah sighed. She looked flustered all of a sudden. ‘George Elms, detective. It has been two years in total.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘Well, what did you expect?’

  ‘It’s probably best I don’t answer that.’

  ‘You’ve got no right to be angry with me, George.’

  ‘That another one of your rules?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You take yourself off, tell me I’m not allowed to make contact, not allowed to come and find you, that you would call me. Now twelve months down the line you’re back to tell me how I’m allowed to feel about it all.’

  ‘Because when you did contact me, when you did find us, our daughter was taken. I was taken. Who knows what could have happened. I still can’t even think about it, George, after all this time. We were at the mercy of a madman and there was nothing you could do about it.’

  ‘I did do something about it. We survived that. As a family. We came through it. It was a tough period, but that’s all done with now. I can understand you needed a little time away, I know why. But it’s done. He’s gone.’

  ‘Yes, George, that madman has gone, but he brought something out in you. Suddenly my husband was an utter stranger. And can you promise there won’t be another madman further down the line? A queue of them, maybe? Look at what you’ve gone through in the last few years, even if we weren’t directly involved. You couldn’t just come home from that and play happy families. You can’t just be a normal dad getting off early for sports days or being there for Chri
stmas. How damaging do you think it is for Charley when her dad comes home with black eyes, or blown up, or shot at? Or what if you don’t come home one day? Lord knows that would be hard enough right now, but if we’re back as a family unit, if we let you back in? There would be no coming back from that. She would be destroyed. And so would I, George, so would I.’

  ‘I always said that I would quit the job if you said I should. If that’s what it takes, I’ll put my notice in the second I walk back through that door. My family is all that matters to me. There’s nothing else. Just say the word and I’ll do it.’

  ‘Really? You got promoted, George! The last time we saw each other you were waiting it out for the right offer. Then you got it. They said you could walk — full pension, all that you could want. And here we are. What happened?’

  ‘You happened! You left — remember? I had some time off on my own before and I did nothing but self-destruct. I’m terrified, Sarah, that I’ll go back to who I was then if I don’t have anything to get up for in the morning. That’s the only reason I stayed. We go back to being a family and I know I’d be fine. I’d have everything I want. I’ll quit, I’ll go in now and I’ll quit.’

  ‘It’s not that simple. There’s too much. There’s been too much.’

  ‘This other fella?’

  ‘It’s not just that.’

  ‘He exists then. Who is he?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘What does he do? Sits around at home wrapped in cotton wool, I hope.’

  ‘Don’t start being funny, George. He’s an architect. He’s unlikely to get me kidnapped.’

  ‘Well, he’s off to a good start then.’

  ‘He’s good with Charley too.’

  George bit down hard. The image of Charley sitting on another man’s shoulders, giggling at him with the delightful belly laugh she had when she was tickled, tugging on his hand at the zoo. It made him feel physically ill. He was aware that he was starting to lose control. He needed to get away. ‘I need some time. The irony, eh?’ He was aware his voice broke a little. He stood up. Sarah fixed her gaze on him, those big, brown eyes suddenly full of sympathy. It made George angrier.

  ‘Okay. We’ll be around. I was serious about sorting something for you and Charley for her birthday.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll be in touch.’ George pulled a crumpled note from his pocket and dropped it on the table. He heard Sarah say something but he was already making for the door and he didn’t hear it. He had to get away before he broke down completely.

  George made it back out onto the street. The front of the café was made entirely of glass and they had been sitting by the window. In his periphery, he could see the figure of his wife where he had left her. He pushed his hands into his pockets and dipped his head against the rain. He walked up the steep hill, back towards the town centre. His phone was ringing in his pocket. He ignored it — let it ring out. Almost immediately after, it vibrated again. He peered at the screen; he had missed a call from Emily Ryker.

  George was new in post as the detective inspector for Major Crime covering the east of the county. Emily Ryker was his intelligence officer. They had always gotten on well — too well at one point. But that was ancient history. Soon after, he had met Sarah and settled down. Since that moment he’d never considered anyone else. Never considered that there even could be.

  The second vibration had been a text message. It said simply, urgent. He and Ryker had an understanding: they could ignore each other’s calls, but if it was important they would send a message straight after. George knew he was expected to call her right back, but he couldn’t muster the energy to speak. He wanted somewhere dark and quiet that served something stronger than coffee, where no one could find him. He had taken a Sunday off to meet his wife, hoping that it might turn into an all-day affair with his daughter involved. Sundays used to be his favourite family day. He couldn’t have been more wrong. He switched his phone off. Whatever it was Ryker needed to talk to him about, he was in no fit state to be of any use.

  Chapter 4

  Jenny made it to the grassy verge that ran along the edge of the car park. She half-turned to get a last glimpse of Isobel and the raised lip at the edge of the verge caught her out; she was sent sprawling onto the pavement, her knees and elbows scraping against the tarmac and the air forced from her body as she grunted. She heard another crack! And then a thud that sent a clump of grass and mud flailing towards her. For a second she was frozen to the spot, looking back towards the source of the sound. A man dressed in black had climbed into the back of a large truck. He was facing her. He still had his weapon levelled in her direction. She scrambled to her feet and sprinted down the pavement. It was sloped, down towards where the River Dour rushed against its concrete sides, the natural riverbanks having given way to the straight walls. The path dropped quickly below the level of the car park she had left. It would provide her cover at least.

  She heard another gunshot. This one sounded further away. In the distance she could hear sirens. The pavement sloped back up and the river slipped underground, but Jenny was facing a road. Traffic moved along it but she ran blindly out. She heard the urgent squeals of car tyres and blaring horns but she ignored them and made it to the other side. The sirens had been louder too but she didn’t consider stopping, not even for a second. She needed to get away from there; she couldn’t afford to stop.

  The river reappeared on her right. It flowed a little quicker and was shallower, enough that she could hear its gurgling. She was still running, but the adrenalin that had fired into her body and enabled her escape was all but consumed. She was running on empty. She was exhausted. She braved a glance behind her and saw a long, empty pavement. No one was behind her. She heard more sirens. Surely anyone seen brandishing a gun would now be focussed on evading the police? She slowed to a walk and concentrated on filling her lungs with deep breaths, trying to recover. Her leg was painful all of a sudden. On inspection she had ripped her jeans at the right knee and it was bleeding quite freely — her elbow too, and she dusted some grit from her forearm.

  ‘Isobel . . .’ she muttered. She turned back to face the sirens. Maybe the police already had Isobel — maybe she was safe? She’d had to leave Isobel on that police car. The shots were meant for her. Her last glimpse of the gunman had been of him walking away from where she had left Isobel. She was so much faster without her. It had been the right decision; it was the only decision. She considered walking back to the car park, which would probably be swamped with police cars now. Then she thought of Joseph, of how he had been sat in his car in broad daylight, of how that animal had fired through the window. She rubbed at her face — she had to get the images out of her mind for now — at least until she was safe.

  ‘You okay?’

  Jenny spun back round. She hadn’t been aware of anyone approaching. A man smiled at her, he was mid-thirties, overweight and wearing a Goonies T-shirt. He had a tattoo of faded red lips on his neck.

  ‘Not really,’ she said.

  ‘The sirens, they for you?’

  ‘Sort of,’ Jenny’s voice was croaky. She was still trying to get her breath back under control.

  ‘You in trouble?’

  ‘No. I mean, yeah, but I was running away from whoever the police want. I’m not that person.’

  ‘I know the police. I know all of them. They joke. They say, “Stephen, you know us just by our boots!” I got a window, see. I live in the basement flat, and when they come see me they have to walk past my window. I always know who it is by their boots!’

  Jenny patted her pockets. They were empty. She must have left her phone in the hotel room. She last remembered plugging it in and sliding it under the bed.

  ‘Do you need some help? You’re bleeding. I did some first-aid classes. I can put a sling on if you needed that. Or I can do the recovery position.’

  Jenny looked him up and down. He was wearing loose-fitting tracksuit bottoms that were pulled high and stained and gripped tigh
tly at his ankles. He had cheap-looking formal shoes with no socks. He was a little simple, she thought, but she did need some help.

  ‘Do you have a phone?’

  He patted his own pockets. ‘In the flat!’ he said. He seemed delighted. ‘You can use it. I rushed out, I heard the police, see. I must have forgotten to pick up my phone!’

  ‘Is it near?’ Jenny looked around. They were still on the river path. It seemed to cut between rows of housing.

  ‘Just over there.’ He wafted a finger in the general direction in which she had been running. ‘You wanna come?’

  ‘I need to use the phone.’ Jenny said. She tried to smile in a way that was reassuring.

  Stephen led the way. It was less than a two-minute walk. Jenny found that, having stopped, she was now limping from her hip a little as she followed on behind. She could still hear sirens but they were more distant. Stephen’s front door was down a set of tight, stone steps and was unlocked. He had to push it hard to open it enough for them to get through. Jenny stepped in after him. There were reams of unopened post lying behind the door, getting jammed underneath. She pushed it firmly shut and the post immediately slid back. She had to apply her weight to get the door to click shut. The flat was starved of natural light, cluttered and smelled musty. It wasn’t dirty as such, but on every inch of surface stood an action figure — mostly Star Wars. Jenny recognised some of them but there were a lot she didn’t.

  ‘Do you like Star Wars?’ Stephen said excitedly.

  ‘I guess. I’ve seen the films. Look, my baby is back there. I need to call the police and make sure she’s okay. Did you find your phone?’

  ‘You need to call them here? I can do that! They know me, they come here all the time.’

  ‘No, it’s okay. I need to talk to them. I need to tell them what happened. It’s very urgent!’

  Stephen beamed wildly. He plucked a phone from under a toy spaceship on a low table and held it close to his face. The keys looked oversized, the whole thing looked like a toy phone. ‘I’ll call!’ he said again.