The Fault

by Kitty Sewell

  ‘Get up, Mohammed, get off the floor,’ she said. ‘What about all that money she had? Do you know anything about that?’

  He stood up and looked at her, his eyes filling with tears. ‘It’s too late. I’ve done it already.’

  ‘Done what?’

  ‘I’ve given the money to Mr. Montegriffo.’

  She shook her head in perplexity. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘She told me to do it. She insisted. It worked. Mr. Montegriffo signed the receipt and I am free. He had no choice. Everyone saw him take the money. But there is lots left. I’ll give it back to her. I wasn’t going to keep it. She knows that. I told her absolutely. I was waiting—’

  ‘Stop, stop. Calm down,’ she said putting her hands up. ‘Come and sit down and tell me what the hell you’re talking about.’

  She led him to the rattan sofa, in the shade of the sail. ‘Talk me through this slowly, one step at a time, please. And then tell me how we can find Mimi.’

  He burst into tears. ‘I have no idea where Mimi is. Allah forgive me.’

  Eva put her arm around his heaving shoulders. For every moment that went by, she felt colder.

  *

  Once Mohammed had left, she began to try and locate Sebastian. She scanned the contacts on his mobile and found Azzopardi’s number.

  No, said the man at the other end of the line. He no longer worked at the site, so he had no idea of Mr. Luna’s whereabouts. He gave her several phone numbers for other team members, but subsequently saw that the numbers were already on his contact list. She wondered about all these people he interacted with on a daily basis. She’d known from the start that he was a loner, but she hadn’t realised that none of them were his friends.

  She went through his list and called the numbers one by one. Nobody had seen Sebastian or knew where he might be. She poured herself a glass of neat gin and sat down at the kitchen table. It probably wasn’t a good idea to drink, but she did it anyway. A warm glow spread around her limbs, relaxing her body if not her mind.

  Finally the phone rang, and she grabbed it.

  ‘Mimi!’ she called out, and when no-one responded, ‘Sebastian?’

  ‘Eva?’ a man said.

  ‘Is this the police?’ she blurted.

  ‘No…this is Henry Saunders from SeaChange. Do you remember me? We have met.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Hello, Henry. Sorry, Sebastian is not here right now.’

  ‘I expected as much,’ he said in a exasperated tone. ‘I’d better talk to you, actually.’

  ‘It’s not a good time,’ she said impatiently. ‘I’m expecting a call.’

  ‘This is important, Eva.’

  She frowned. What could he possibly need to speak to her about? ‘What is it?’

  There was a short silence while Henry Saunders cleared his voice. ‘How is Sebastian?’

  ‘Worried right now,’ she said. ‘His sister, Imogen… Listen, can we talk some other time?’

  ‘Give me two minutes of your time, please,’ he said forcefully. ‘Yesterday morning I received a hand-written letter from Sebastian. I won’t bother you with the contents, but I found it quite disturbing. I’ve been trying to call him ever since, but he’s clearly not wanting to pick up my calls.’

  ‘There is a good reason for that, Henry. His sister has been missing for the last couple of days.’

  Saunders was silent for a moment. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. But I do need to tell you this. Whilst trying to speak to him I did some heavy-duty detective work and spoke to a Dr. Liam Matthews who signed the medical report we request from all our employees. He admitted that there were inconsistencies in Sebastian’s report.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘In case you were unaware, he’s not attended his routine medical appointments for many months; since leaving London, in fact, and he’s not renewed his prescriptions, nor does it appear that his treatment has been transferred to any doctor in Gibraltar.’

  ‘What treatment?’ Eva felt goosebumps rise on her arms. ‘Are you talking about his migraines?’

  There was another pause. ‘I don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with here because medical records are strictly confidential, but I’m drawing some conclusions based on Sebastian’s letter and my subsequent chat with Dr. Matthews.’

  ‘Sebastian has not mismanaged his work in any way, has he?’ she said. ‘He’s been thwarted by so many issues that have nothing to do with him. He’s put a super-human effort into everything that—’

  ‘Yes, I know, but that’s a different matter. I would like you to tell him he’s suspended from his duties until we have a legitimate medical report on him. Preferably carried out by a medical team of our choice with Sebastian’s full authorisation. I was going to send him an email to that effect, but perhaps it would be less…upsetting, coming from you.’

  Eva could not find her voice.

  ‘Hello, Eva? Are you with me?’

  She took a big gulp of gin. ‘Yes.’

  ‘What’s your own assessment of Sebastian’s state of mind?’

  ‘As I said, he’s frantic with worry. Finding Imogen is the only thing we can deal with at the moment. I’m sorry.’

  She pressed the little red button and hoped that she could erase from her mind the conversation she’d just had. At least for now.

  Sebastian

  He stepped out of the shower and dried off a little by patting his clothes with a towel, leaving a trail of pink puddles on the floorboards as he went into the living room to get his gear.

  He stopped short and stared at the crumpled heap on the floor. If it hadn’t been for the lake of blood, it would have looked like a booze-addled vagrant sleeping off a binge. There was nothing menacing about it. The blood was real, however; the blood was everywhere.

  He thought back to his altercations with the man, and accepted that perhaps the first killing had been a fantasy after all. It had been so convincing, down to the last detail. When he was a child, he would sometimes wreak revenge on some deserving person, and then find to his relief that he’d not actually caused any harm. At other times, of course, he had caused harm.

  Approaching the body, he nudged it with his foot. Fantasy or not, dead or alive, the state of Montegriffo had no bearing on his plan. His plan had been conceived in that spell of all-encompassing clarity, and he knew it was flawless. When confusion set in, he brought himself back to this plan. It was clear and must go ahead, each step ticked off in turn. He’d got hold of Jonny Risso before leaving home. Risso had hesitated but as soon as Sebastian had suggested a fee of three-hundred pounds, it was a done deal. He’d remembered to grab the cash from his drawer. He’d ticked Eva off the plan, left her with words of his love. Now it would all be just steps, each one implemented in turn.

  Glancing at his watch, he realised he still had an hour or so left before calling for a taxi. He was glad to have spotted a landline in the hall; had he not, he’d have to have risked a meeting with Eva in the hall as he made his way to the taxi ramp. There was nothing to do but wait, so he sank down into the sofa with a sigh. His eyes closed and, after just a few minutes, he dropped into a twilight state not unlike sleep. Eva’s footsteps could be heard pacing around the rooms above. He even perceived the faint sound of her voice talking on the phone, no doubt arranging her own evacuation.

  He’d had an inkling of some ulterior purpose the moment she arrived in Gibraltar. Then finding the hidden passport with her alias, Chantelle Hepping, should have alerted him, but he was so hopelessly in love and blinded by a need to be loved in return. Eva Eriksson was no doubt another fictitious identity, just another assignment. It was only since she disappeared to the meeting in Spain that the mist had cleared from his eyes and he’d come to realise the full extent of her involvement. Her target had been the blueprint for Luna’s Crossing; he’d known it really since the drawings began to disappear. She’d waited patiently, lovingly even, for him to complete the first set of plans, then she and Bri
an had driven to some meeting point on the Costa del Sol to pass them over to his rivals and sell him out. She’d even had the gall to show him the money they’d paid her for the job, pretending Mimi had given it to her. As if! She was sharp and skillful, and it had been almost impossible to catch her out, though he’d tried in a variety of ways. The phone calls had confused her – made her nervous, de-stabilised her – but not enough to let slip who she was working for…except those couple of times she’d given the code-name away: Adrian.

  Though it seemed far-fetched, it was even possible that she’d engaged Montegriffo to do her bidding, especially when she’d discovered how Montegriffo’s seduction of Mimi would send him into a frenzy of anxiety and make him drop his guard. She’d always condoned the bizarre relationship, almost goaded him with it. Having Montegriffo get Mimi out of the way had perhaps been part of their plan, and Montegriffo would no doubt take personal pleasure in putting Mimi where he could have unlimited private access to her. But they had no idea just how badly this would backfire, how far he was prepared to go to protect his sister.

  Eva had fulfilled her mission, and Luna’s Crossing was irrevocably gone. Despite what she was, he still loved her. Human beings were faulty, greedy and easily corrupted – he himself was a bundle of defects – and his beautiful Eva was no exception. But all of that was water under the bridge.

  He smiled at his own pun, he smiled as he thought of the future. From now on, his focus would be on Mimi alone. It was on her he should have concentrated his care and his watchfulness. He’d got his priorities all wrong.

  Mimi

  She was beginning to feel that she was in the centre of everything: the Rock, the world, the solar system, the universe. It was not a bad place to be, if she could just hold on to that feeling. Sometimes minutes – even hours – went by, and she spun slowly in that centre. She knew she wasn’t God (in the way that Sebastian often believed he was) but nothing and everything mattered when you were at the centre. You were part of everything, and everything was part of you. She easily conjured up a vision of the world, the seas and the skies, the stars and suns and beyond: the ever-expanding universe of which she was the centre.

  Sometimes she woke up with a start, clear-headed and realising that this heightened state was some sort of delirium, probably caused by fear, and by lack of food and water. She’d read somewhere that severe mental and emotional stress can lead to hallucinations. The next phase of sustained trauma was catatonia, a state of mute numbness, a kind of living death. It was a horrifying possibility, but at the same time, she knew that if there were no hope of leaving this hellish cave, it was the most bearable way to end. In a place like this, the idea of death lost its sinister meaning. It was just another state, another phase of non-existence. In some ways, it was a logical choice.

  She crawled over to the recess where the ‘food’ was stored and, from one of the boxes, tore open another packet of biscuits. She filled the water bottle from the cistern and scuttled to the toilet pit and back to the safety of her raft. She would leave the choice till later. Perhaps someone would come for her, after all.

  Sometimes she was spoken to. ‘Yes, ok, you’re adopted,’ said Jane. ‘We just lied to you both; your dad insisted.’ Esther Cohen soothed her brow with her cool hand. ‘Don’t worry, little one; at least now, I have a daughter.’ ‘Silly,’ said Eva. ‘Why didn’t you tell me everything?’ Carlo looked at her lustfully, ‘we will learn together, Imogen. We have a lifetime…’ Dad was on the other side. He reached out his hand to her, beckoning. ‘No,’ she pleaded, ‘not yet. I need time.’

  Again she retreated into that centre. She lay still, knees touching her chin, her mind focused on her breath, sometimes on the loud pulse in her body. Her heart beat louder and her blood thumped through her veins. And so it came that she began to hear the clash of sound, at odds with the rhythms of her heart, her blood or her breath.

  First, a scratching, rasping, clawing. It was the nameless horror – the phantoms of the Rock – scrabbling to get to her. She felt the damp walls of the cavern begin to move in towards her. She tossed hysterically on her mattress, wanting to wake and fight back, before stone slowly enveloped her and crushed her bones.

  ‘Imogen, Mimi. Are you in there?’

  Her eyes snapped open and she yanked herself into a sitting position. It was the voice of a human being. A man. Frantically she patted the space around her and found the torch.

  ‘I’m here,’ she shouted weakly. Her voice had lost its strength from not talking for a long time, or perhaps it was permanently damaged by her screaming and the dry-cleaning fluid she’d inhaled. Her words seemed to thud to a stop against the cavern walls. She scrambled up and shone the torch towards the narrow metal door. On trembling legs, she ran forward and beat on it with her fists, then with the torch itself.

  He heard her.

  ‘I’m coming. I’m almost in. Imogen! You’ll be okay. I’m here.’ His voice sounded as though it came from the bottom of a well.

  There was the sound of rocks being moved. They clonked and clanged as though they were being shaken inside an enormous metal drum. When he finally came through the door, she stumbled forward and fell into his arms.

  Sebastian

  The two men watched in silence as the evening light faded. The crests of the waves glowed red and the soaring limestone ridges of the Rock looked magnificent. Why everyone was so enamoured with the Atlantic side, Sebastian could never understand. This was beautiful beyond belief. He could see his development hovering on the sea, the slender buildings, the domes and towers, the lights reflecting on the water. It made him sad that it would never come to pass. Or if it did, he would not be there to build it.

  He scanned the whole of the world around him. It would be the last time – perhaps ever – that he saw the sky and the sea. It was beautiful, all right, but he knew he preferred the depths, the darkness. He wanted to be anchored. He wanted safety. He yearned for that womb to which he would return.

  ‘What is it you’re looking for down there? Be honest now, Mr. Luna,’ said Jonny Risso.

  ‘Call me Sebastian, for heaven’s sake, man.’ Sebastian was starting to gear up. ‘This is the site of my development and there are problems that need to be solved.’

  ‘But I read in the paper that your development will probably be scrapped.’

  ‘By God! People take everything they read in the papers as given.’

  The boat rocked on the rollers. ‘The tide’ll turn in half an hour. You have forty minutes, all right? Don’t make me nervous, now.’

  ‘What do you think? I’m not mad!’

  ‘Set your watch,’ Jonny admonished. ‘Your missus would have my guts for garters if the tide carried you out through the strait.’

  ‘Yes, yes. I’m setting my watch. Anyway, she worries too much.’

  ‘They do, don’t they?’ Risso said with a knowing smirk. ‘Women!’

  By the time Jonny steered the boat in towards the barge, it was almost dark and he was lighting up the black waters with his headlights. He threw his anchor in. Sebastian slipped into the water and turned on his torch. The sooner he found the little window to the cavern, the sooner he could be down in the bowels of the Rock and reunited with Mimi. He hoped that she wasn’t suffering alone, in the dark. She would know that he was coming. She trusted him, she always had. They shared the same genes; were one and the same entity.

  As he prepared to ditch his tank onto the seabed, to leave the necessary evidence of his drowning, he felt a sudden rush of terror. What if Eva had lied to him, and the alleged passage from the dry cavern did not lead to a manmade tunnel, but to a dead end? He would never be able to swim out again without the tank. But perhaps that was his fate. And Mimi’s. To die alone, in their separate caverns. His death would be swift, with no food, just water. Hers could take years.

  He was within metres of the hole in the rock-face when he began to unclasp and unstrap himself from his gear. He struggled with one of the clasps that h
ad become wedged sideways, but couldn’t dislodge it. He tried to shrug the harness off but it sat too firmly around his body. The seconds passed and he felt the prickle of panic. He groped for his diving knife, and began to saw at the strap. It was made out of tightly woven nylon, but at least the knife was sharp. A hazy memory floated by, of cutting the tresses of a mermaid, far under the sea.

  The knife made inroads into the nylon until suddenly it snapped free. He took twenty deep inhalations of air from his mouth piece, then shrugged his gear off and saw it sink, disappearing towards the seabed. There was not a second to lose. He pushed himself through the hole, using his hands to propel himself between the pinnacles and columns of the outer passage. Once inside the vast spaciousness of the inner cavern, he blindly swam upwards, upwards…for an eternity. He hit the surface with a long gasp, his blood begging for oxygen, his lungs aching from the strain.

  He climbed up onto the ledge, disorientated and nauseous. The strain of the day finally caught up with him and he collapsed onto the smooth rock, shivering with cold despite his wetsuit. Half an hour passed before he could move. His limbs had stiffened, so he crawled on all fours, the beam of his torch searching the narrowing channel at the end of the cave. As long as this cursed passage ended at the roof of a tunnel, he could find his way to Mimi. If it didn’t, he would slip back into the water and draw it deeply into his lungs. It was quick, he’d heard, and he still felt some compassion for the tormented man that he was.