The Cinderella Plan
Page 34
Martine checked the time. She had at least four more minutes until James’ car would reach the place she had chosen for the accident. A tricky spot to navigate, with a contraflow and temporary traffic light and, of course, that solid, impenetrable concrete barrier. That would help justify things after the event. But she also knew it would be quiet at this time of day, especially because people were being urged to avoid the roadworks.
Martine checked the coordinates on the black box, her eyes darting from one screen to another, her feet, crossed beneath the desk, tapping out a lively tune, her breathing laboured.
She thought briefly of Juan and the huge amount she had learned just by sitting next to him, these last weeks, together with the odd ‘random’ question. He had been so keen to impress her and she had taken full advantage of his enthusiasm. And the two courses on hacking he had recommended to his colleagues had been invaluable to her too.
She checked the time again, closed her eyes, opened them, coughed once and then flicked the switch on the black box.
The effect was amazing. Most of the coloured shapes on the Connect screen disappeared immediately, the ones representing the road signs Martine knew lined that stretch of road, the street lights, the temporary traffic light, the zebra crossing. It was as if they no longer existed.
She watched the dashcam. Nothing yet. She could hear James humming along to the music and the rustling of paper in his hand. She began to apply pressure, gently but firmly, to a button on the keyboard, which was now connected to James’ accelerator pedal, and his speed increased correspondingly. She needed to find the right balance, sufficient for a crash into the barrier which would look terrifying to the outside world but not enough for him to notice any sudden change or to be seriously injured. Naturally, he would be out of action for a week or two afterwards, just long enough for her to work her magic, quietly, behind the scenes. And Toby was unlikely to object, given their recent interaction. No, she was surer than ever that she could count on his support.
Reluctantly, SEDA would blame James, of course, “human error” which would well and truly keep the Cinderella project on track, if a little delayed. And James would have to swallow his pride. She could just see the headline now. If only I’d let the car drive! SEDA king reflects from hospital bed.
Now Martine had to stop thinking too far ahead and focus on the task in hand. She mustn’t overdo it. Not only would skid marks on the road give away any excessive speed and lead to more questions, she had to ensure James was not badly hurt.
Suddenly the dashcam witnessed a rapid shift to the right, followed by a jolt to the left. Martine heard James call out.
On Common Lane, Bertie Layton had broken his cover and darted into the road. Georgia trailed him, calling his name. Therese pursued them both, flinging the pram forward as James’ car tossed her up in the air, like the ragdoll tucked into Georgia’s backpack.
Martine saw their blurred figures cross the right-hand screen, she saw something, someone, a bundle of clothes and flesh and hair smash against the dashcam for an instant with a sickening thud. ‘Whoosh!’ she heard the air bag engage and more moans from James as he hit it at 36mph.
‘No!’ Martine screamed, slamming her free hand down on the table.
Then everything stopped.
The dashcam showed the car, stationary, at an angle, just short of the target concrete barrier. Trembling, she called up the CCTV, but in this area there was little coverage. It revealed a line of cars progressing steadily towards James on the other carriageway, but that was all. On the left-hand screen there was almost nothing, the green square representing James’ car, sitting alone in the road, surrounded by black.
Martine held her breath. Nothing. She could hear voices around James’ car, shouts and crying out and hooting. A minute passed and she waited. A man crossed the path of the dashcam and crouched down in front of the grille. He stood up again with blood coating his hands.
Martine opened her mouth and closed it again. Then, she disconnected her laptop from Juan’s machine, she switched off Juan’s second screen, logged out of Connect and locked his first screen. Finally, although it mattered little now, she flicked the jamming switch to ‘off’ and planted Juan’s security pass, which she had filched from his pocket less than half an hour earlier, in the centre of his desk. If he had any sense, he would keep quiet about “leaving it behind” (a breach of James’ stringent security code) and no one would know that she had used it to gain entry to the lab.
Outside, in the car park, Martine sat in her car, staring straight ahead. When she saw Juan heading back in from his jaunt to Enfield, she started up the engine and pulled slowly out of the complex and onto the road, wondering why she had the noise of a baby crying in her head, and when it might go away.
On Common Lane, only the pram lay intact. When Bertie was struck, it had been sent into a violent spin. Now it rested, upright, part in the gutter, part clambering its way back up to normality, rocking gently forward and back, its occupant blinking her eyes once, twice, before letting out a tentative cry, which quickly became more persistent, when no one came.
THE END
Acknowledgements
My thanks go to all the team at Lightning Books: to Dan Hiscocks for his continued support and belief in my abilities, to Scott Pack for his incredible editing skills and guidance, to Sue Amaradivakara and Simon Edge for their tremendous efforts in publicity and marketing, to Hugh Brune for his enthusiastic sales campaign, to Shona Andrew for the fabulous cover design, to Clio Mitchell for her meticulous copyediting and typesetting, and Rosemarie Malyon for her equally meticulous proofreading.
I must, of course, also acknowledge the enormous contribution of my parents, Jacqie and the late Sidney Fineberg, both inspirational teachers, who encouraged me and my sisters to spend all our waking hours reading.
Special thanks for his input into The Cinderella Plan, at various stages of its journey, go to a particular police officer and serious collision investigator, who spent many hours answering my questions about stopping distances, catastrophic injuries caused by cars and event data recorders. He has asked me not to reveal his identity, but he knows who he is and that I could not have written this story so convincingly without him. And to my dear, wise friend, Pen Vogler (aka @PenfromPenguin), for being so generous with her time, including reading more than one early draft, and for being brave enough to make some (very valid) suggestions for improvement; I am hugely grateful.
Finally, a gigantic thank you goes to everyone who has reviewed The Cinderella Plan, The Aladdin Trial and my first novel, The Pinocchio Brief, for taking the time to read my books and share their views in a variety of ways; including in radio broadcasts, space in some of our most prestigious national publications, for hosting me on their blogs and websites and for taking the time to post online reviews. Their support has provided me with the confidence to continue writing and, without their backing, I would not have been able to reach such a wide audience; I am forever indebted.
About the author
Yorkshire-bred, Abi Silver is a lawyer by profession. She lives in Hertfordshire with her husband and three sons. Her first courtroom thriller featuring the legal duo Judith Burton and Constance Lamb, The Pinocchio Brief, was published by Lightning Books in 2017 and was shortlisted for the Waverton Good Read Award. Her follow-up, The Aladdin Trial, featuring the same legal team, was published in 2018.
The Pinocchio Brief
A SUNDAY TIMES CRIME CLUB PICK
‘A first-rate courtroom drama’ – Daily Mail
A 15-year-old schoolboy is accused of the brutal murder of one of his teachers.
His lawyers – the guarded veteran, Judith, and the energetic young solicitor, Constance – begin a desperate pursuit of the truth, revealing uncomfortable secrets about the teacher and the school.
But Judith has her own secrets which she risks exposing when it is announced that
a new lie-detecting device, nicknamed Pinocchio, will be used during the trial. And is the accused, a troubled boy who loves challenges, trying to help them or not?
The Pinocchio Brief is a gripping courtroom thriller which confronts our assumptions about truth and our increasing reliance on technology.
The Aladdin Trial
A SUNDAY TIMES CRIME CLUB PICK
‘An intense and compelling legal drama – quite wonderful’ Geoffrey Wansell
When an elderly artist plunges one hundred feet to her death at a London hospital, the police sense foul play. The hospital cleaner, a Syrian refugee, is arrested for her murder. He protests his innocence, but why has he given the woman the story of Aladdin to read, and why does he shake uncontrollably in times of stress?
Judith Burton and Constance Lamb reunite to defend a man the media has already convicted. In a spellbinding courtroom confrontation in which they once more grapple with all-too-possible developments in artificial intelligence, they uncover not only the cleaner’s secrets, but also those of the artist’s family, her lawyer and the hospital.