by Abi Silver
‘Oh this is just a little blip along the way of our near text-book defence preparation. Now I know why I hate public law. As soon as you get any government entity shouting “public interest” or “national security” or one of those other signifying-nothing buzz words, you know you’re screwed. Apologies. The profanity was uncalled for but liberating. When you next see James, make sure you tell him what tremendous progress we’re making on his behalf. We don’t want him getting depressed about his prospects.’
43
MARTINE ARRIVED home from her volunteering to find James packing a suitcase.
‘I bought lamb,’ she mumbled, wide-eyed, standing in the doorway of their bedroom.
‘Oh, sorry, darling.’ He crossed the room and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Something’s come up and I need to go to France.’
‘You didn’t say. I was going to make it Tuscan-style, how you like it.’
‘My mouth is watering as you’re speaking. Will it keep till tomorrow?’
‘Probably.’
‘There’s been a problem at our Toulouse plant,’ he explained. ‘I had no warning. I’m catching the Eurostar so I can get there for an early meeting in the morning. Try to sort things out before they develop into something more serious. Will you be OK?’
‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll have a long bath and watch another box set.’ She forced a smile. ‘But, do you think it’s a good idea for you to go?’
‘I have a business to run.’
‘Didn’t your lawyers say not to go abroad?’
‘They said I might get asked to surrender my passport. I wasn’t. And it’s been days now and I haven’t heard anything.’
‘Nothing at all?’
‘No.’
‘So it might disappear?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘The older one looked down her nose at me, you know,’ Martine pouted.
‘What? Who?’
‘Your lawyers, when I met them for coffee.’
‘Are you sure? You can be oversensitive. What did she say?’
‘It wasn’t what she said.’
‘Ah.’ James sounded unconvinced. ‘Would you like me to complain, to the police, to the, whoever it is…Law Society?’ he asked.
Martine took a step into the room.
‘No. I’d like you to understand, that’s what I’d like.’
James swallowed hard. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I should have asked, before, how it went when you spoke to them. You didn’t have to see them.’
‘How would it have looked if I’d refused?’
‘I’m grateful that you did.’ Martine was still pouting. ‘How did she upset you?’ James asked.
‘It was her attitude. They see themselves as working women, don’t they? Career women. And I’m just a “trophy wife”.’
‘I’m sure you’re wrong. The older one, Judith, is very direct, as I remember, but I didn’t see her as judgemental.’
‘Well I did.’
‘You do your bit, at the shelter. You’re just as clever as they are and twice as beautiful. You don’t need a career to prove it. You don’t have to speak to them again, if you don’t want to.’
‘I’m sorry. The last thing you need is me feeling sorry for myself. I wish you’d let me help you more. Everyone else is doing something to help. Your mind is probably not on the business at the moment.’
‘You are helping me. Just by being here for me. And keeping going. That’s what I need right now. And I’m getting Toby more involved at work.’
Martine sauntered over to James’ suitcase. Each item of clothing was neatly folded and set out in ordered lines. One good thing about living with James; she never had to pack for him.
‘You’re not bored of this life, are you?’ James asked. ‘I know it’s not been as glamorous as I promised. Not many tiaras to wear recently.’
‘Don’t be silly. I didn’t mean that. Look at all this.’ She waved her arms around and, as she did, her eye alighted on the camera in the corner of the room. She turned her back on it. ‘Not bad for a girl from Sheffield,’ she said. ‘OK, it’s taken longer than we expected to win the jackpot, and this is a bit of a setback, but that’s all.’
‘You are fabulous, you know that,’ he murmured. ‘What about, tomorrow night, when I get back, instead of you cooking, we go to a really nice restaurant, Le Chien Blanc, your favourite? We haven’t been there for ages.’
‘Great.’
‘I’ll get Toby to make us a reservation. Is eight o’clock good? I know it’s your night at the shelter, but you can miss that once, can’t you?’
‘Yes, yes of course I can.’
Twenty minutes after James left, Martine picked up her mobile, lying back on her bed and kicking off her shoes as she anticipated the caller’s voice.
‘Hi.’
‘He’s gone away again.’ She sighed.
‘I’m sorry, it’s been a bit difficult...
‘...Just tonight...
‘...No, there’s no news...
‘...That would be nice. I hate being on my own at night...
‘...See you then. Looking forward.’
44
CONSTANCE AND Judith sat side by side in Constance’s office, reading through the preliminary report on the SEDA’s software, taken from the EDR. When the message heralding its arrival pinged on Constance’s phone, she had quickly replenished their coffee supplies and printed off a paper copy for Judith.
After a couple of minutes of skim-reading, Judith scrunched the report into a ball and threw it across the room. Constance raised her eyes once and then lowered them again to her screen. Then Judith stood up and began to pace in military fashion.
‘If only we’d got there first,’ she shouted, waving her arms around. ‘We’ll have to get our own report now, but who knows whether it’s all been compromised? How could Dawson let them do this? We’ll have to make an official complaint.’
Constance sat in silence. She knew better than to take on Judith on the rampage.
‘Who’s the author of the report?’ Judith demanded.
‘It says “Department of Transport”…’
‘More like Department of Nonsense. I should have expected they would blame it all on James. It’s a whitewash and no self-respecting person would put their name to it.’
‘But it’s signed off by a forensic crash examiner. He has lots of qualifications. I looked him up.’
‘Who has, no doubt, been sat upon very hard by the Right Honourable Alan Tillinghurst MP, or someone else in the industry, to say this. I should have intervened. Why didn’t you insist I appeal? Now it will just look like sour grapes. Oh, why am I even surprised?’
Judith retrieved her copy of the mangled report and began to smooth it out.
‘Do you want me to call Dawson? We could speak to him together?’ Constance asked.
‘We both know this is above Dawson’s pay grade,’ Judith said huffily. ‘Although it would make me feel better to let off steam and he’s probably expecting it. Perhaps I have contacts who know Alan Tillinghurst.’
‘I don’t understand how the data could show for certain what they’ve concluded,’ Constance said.
‘I’m more interested in what’s missing, rather than what’s there. I mean, we can see how many revolutions per second the wheels were making, but that doesn’t mean they were necessarily functioning properly. There’s a kind of sweep-up on page sixteen which seems to say that all the systems were working correctly, but it doesn’t explain how they know that. Ah! Not a good start to our evening session. Has James seen it?’
‘Not from me. Should I call him?’
‘No. I’d rather see his response in person. Let’s go and see him tomorrow, early, as his devoted wife tells us he’s a “morning person”.’
; ‘We can’t. He’s away.’
‘Where is he?’
‘Just France, I think. He went on the Eurostar.’
‘Didn’t you advise him not to?’
‘I tried. But Dawson hadn’t said and, technically, he isn’t under arrest or anything.’
‘Find out when he’s coming back.’
‘He said tomorrow night. Agh.’ Constance checked her phone.
‘What is it?’
‘From Dawson. He wants to see James. They’re going to charge him.’
‘Well there we are then. Good job we didn’t just give Dawson an almighty telling-off. You’ll need to sweet-talk him. The last thing we want is them arresting James at the train terminal and it’s all over the newspapers again. It will look like he was running away.’
‘Does this report mean we give up on all the things we’ve been working on?’
‘Absolutely not. The report doesn’t convince me one bit. We need to work on all those other areas of defence. And I have a few more ideas, too.’
45
MARTINE HAD screened and rejected three calls from Toby already that morning. The fourth came as she was attempting to leave the house.
‘Hello?’ She tried to hide the annoyance in her voice.
‘Martine?’
‘Yes. That’s me.’
‘It’s Toby.’
‘Yes. I can see.’
‘Um. Look. James is away.’
‘I know that.’
‘And, um, well, he’s taking me to this big meeting, when he gets back. I thought you should know.’
‘Does he need his bag carrying or something?’
‘He asked me before to come along, before the accident, but now he wants me to prepare all this stuff and work up a paper afterwards. I wanted to thank you, for putting in a good word for me. It was you, wasn’t it?’
Martine hesitated. She could hardly tell him she hadn’t said anything to persuade James to involve him, more the opposite.
‘What meeting is it?’ she asked.
‘His Cinderella meeting, you know.’
Martine was suddenly alert. ‘Yes. Listen, Toby. Make really careful notes of what they all say at the meeting. He needs them to accept that the cars are safe. Don’t let James give in to them, not now when he’s vulnerable. He’s putting on a brave face but he’s pretty devastated by what happened to that family.’
‘Wow. Thanks. I mean, he said he needed me. But I wasn’t sure if he was just being polite.’
‘Don’t thank me,’ Martine said. ‘I’m sure James has just realised, on his own, how much help you can be. I don’t think he appreciates quite how fragile his own health is.’
‘OK. I get it. I’ll stick close.’
‘Was that all? I have a lot to get through today.’
‘Yes. I’m sorry. I know you’re busy. I…have a lot of respect for your views…as a person. I wanted you to know.’
‘Thank you. That is nice to know.’
‘And, even though James sometimes gives me things to do that are, well, not so challenging, like booking hotels and restaurants, I always do my best, for the company.’
‘Of course you do. James knows that.’
‘I might have, well, said stuff before which would have made you think I’m ungrateful.’
‘If you did I don’t remember.’
‘And are you keeping well? I haven’t seen you at work recently.’
‘Is there something else you want to tell me?’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘I get the feeling that you’re leading up to something?’
‘He’s going to be really cross.’
‘What is it?’
‘It’s the report about his car.’
‘Oh?’
‘James told me to check his emails while he’s travelling. It says there was nothing wrong with the car and that James was driving when it crashed.’
‘Oh!’
‘And, I don’t know how, but Bruce sent it.’
‘Bruce?’
‘Bruce Debrett. He just called me. He said that he’s advising the company that James should not be allowed to touch the master copy of the data. He said James has “a conflict” in dealing with the crash and that I have to be in charge of anything to do with the crash. That we have to call an emergency directors’ meeting to talk about it. So I’ll be sending out an invitation, to a directors’ meeting first thing tomorrow and you need to come.’
‘You’re right. James won’t be pleased.’
‘It wasn’t me who told Bruce. He says I have to act in the best interests of the company and forget any allegiance to James.’
Martine sat down and closed her eyes to help focus her thoughts.
‘Thanks for letting me know,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell James when he gets back. No point spoiling his trip, is there?’
‘Bruce sent him the report.’
‘All right. But let me tell him about the other stuff, though, the directors’ meeting.’
Martine stared at the screen of her phone long after the call had ended. Then she shrugged, picked up her bag, left money out in an envelope for Lina on the kitchen worktop and headed off to help chop up vegetables at the homeless shelter in Camden.
46
CONSTANCE KNOCKED on the door of Dean McQueen’s house at six o’clock that evening. He hadn’t returned her calls and Martine had not yet provided the list she had requested, but the McQueen’s company registered office was a residential address, and her hunch that he might live there himself was rewarded when she saw his van in the driveway.
Dean was taller than she remembered from seeing him at the Salisburys’ house, and broader, too. She wondered if his ‘security’ exploits extended to barring Essex youth from entry to local popular haunts, as well as protecting people’s homes. She explained the reason for her visit was ‘just a few questions about security for the Salisburys’ and his eyes flicked lazily across her face, before he stepped out into the cool evening in his bare feet, pulling the front door closed behind him.
‘Of course, anything I can tell you,’ he said. ‘I remember you now. You were at the house when Mr Salisbury asked me to check everything over.’
‘Mrs Salisbury says there are a lot of cameras.’
‘Yeah, I suppose there are.’
‘Do you know how many?’
‘If you want the exact details, I can find them for you. From memory, there’s cameras on the gates, three along the driveway, one above each external door and in all the downstairs rooms. They also have them in some of the bedrooms.’
‘The bedrooms?’
‘I just do as I’m told. My dad put them in. I maintain them.’
‘And does anyone check what they are recording?’
‘Not routinely. If Mr Salisbury asks me, then I can do. I keep the recordings for six months, then I delete them.’
‘And you have access to the house?’
‘I have the code for the gate, so I can check the outside cameras. Or if the alarm is triggered, I can come on site. I don’t have a key to the house, no. I wouldn’t want to. Put me in the frame if something happened, wouldn’t it?’ He grinned conspiratorially. ‘But I can access the cameras remotely now, anyway.’
‘Remotely?’
‘Yeah. You must have seen all the stuff you can get nowadays, those smart doorbells. You can see who’s standing outside your house, even when you’re away.’
‘Isn’t that very complicated technology?’
‘The doorbells are quite basic, but the stuff I do, yeah I suppose so. But security’s my business. I have to keep up. That’s why my dad’s handed a lot of it over to me now. Mr Salisbury’s been really good to us, though – gave us the contract for the office too. That’s how I could afford this plac
e. But the stuff we’ve put in at his work, state-of-the-art, that is. Hidden cameras, just where you wouldn’t expect.’
A sudden gust of wind whisked some fallen leaves up in to the air. Constance drew her jacket tightly around her.
‘Have you ever seen anyone, other than Mr Salisbury, touching his car?’
Dean shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘My dad told me when I first started there, about a year back, not to go near it, not to even park near it. He said Mr Salisbury was very particular about keeping it clean.’
‘And does anyone else come to the house, that you know of?’
‘The gardener – Leo’s his name. I have his number if you want. I’ve worked with him on another property where we had to bury some cables and the people were fussy about their flower beds. The others, you’d have to ask Martine or James…Mr Salisbury.’
‘Thank you. That’s all useful.’
‘I’m happy to help if I can. It’s a horrible thing that’s happened. Was he going too fast?’
‘I can’t say.’
‘No, I suppose you can’t. I was just interested. How come you’re doing all the investigating and not the police? It’s maybe not safe for you to be going to people’s houses on your own, at night.’
‘I’m just…filling in the gaps. And I’m sure you don’t need to be concerned about me.’
Dean stepped back on to his doorstep and withdrew his front door key from his pocket.
‘Is that all you need now?’ he asked. ‘I would have asked you in, but the house is full of my equipment and I was just eating my dinner when you rang.’
47
‘HOW WAS France?’
Martine was reading a magazine when James returned that evening, but she pushed it aside.
‘Good. They’re so far ahead of us out there, it’s unbelievable.’ He deposited his case by the door.
‘You sorted out your problem then?’
‘Oh, yes, all sorted. You know I am seriously thinking of applying for our first European licence in France. Forget about the UK for now. I was bluffing when I said it to Peter but now I’m serious. And there isn’t the same interest in the crash over there. It was only in the news for a day.’
