‘Of course, he is. He got a false driving licence for Mark Brown to hire the Range Rover. He knows the right people and he’s not short of money so he could afford a decent one.’ I thumped the steering wheel again. ‘I should’ve asked Lily.’
‘Would she know? She didn’t seem to know much about his work life,’ DI Blaine said.
‘Perhaps not, but I should have asked, Guv.’ I didn’t thump the steering wheel a third time since my right hand had gone numb.
‘Indeed,’ said DI Blaine. ‘Come and see me when you get back.’
With that, the line went dead, and I was left with a droning sound and an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach, considering the bollocking I was going to get when I returned to West Hampstead nick.
I grabbed a sandwich and a tea from the vending machine and strolled into the squad room. DI Blaine waved me into her office as soon as she saw me.
‘We’ve had a lead,’ she said, a gleam in her eyes. She’d never lost her enthusiasm for the chase. I half expected her to shout “the game’s afoot” but she didn’t.
‘How,’ I mumbled through a mouthful of cheese and tomato. I grimaced as my tongue encountered the soggy bread. I should have gone for something else.
‘Barman remembered him. Never leave a pub’s newspaper in a puddle of beer. It annoys the bar staff and they remember you.’ She rubbed her hands together and smirked. ‘I’ve got uniform bringing in the CCTV footage from the station. It’ll be easier for you now we’ve got an idea of time.’
‘I’m sorry I didn’t ask Lily about the passport,’ I said.
‘Oh, this isn’t a punishment,’ she said. ‘I just thought you’d want to nail the bastard for your friend.’
‘I do,’ I said. ‘Thanks.’
I finished my sandwich as I waited for the video footage to be brought in. As soon as it arrived, I signed the chain of evidence log and practically snatched the DVD out of the PC’s hands. I trembled putting the DVD in the drive on my laptop. I fired up the program and clicked on the day and time in question. There he was. Unmistakable with the short blond hair and his height. I followed his progress to the bar. I couldn’t see inside but that footage was on the other disc the PC had brought in. After twenty minutes he left and I watched him walk away to the Eurostar Terminal. Bastard. He did have another passport after all. I flicked back to the footage of the pub again. Just in time to see another man leaving and putting some keys in his pocket. Pulling his baseball cap down over his face, he headed to the underground. I was going to need the other footage too to see where he went. Damn, but it was going to be worth it to get that smug git Gundersen for Stephanie’s murder.
I called DI Blaine at home. ‘We’ve got him boss,’ I said. ‘Gundersen is on CCTV going to the Eurostar Terminal. He doesn’t come back again so he must have had another passport hidden away somewhere.’
‘Get onto Eurostar and find out what name was used for the ticket,’ she said.
‘Yep, on it, boss,’ I said. I dial the number for Eurostar ticket enquiries and spent several minutes on hold. I spoke to someone, repeated my question, and was put on hold again. After thirty minutes of my life that I will never see again I finally got to speak to someone who could understand my question.
‘I’m looking for a ticket which was booked online only a couple of hours before the train left. One person. Travelling alone. Yes, male. You have? Brilliant.’ I clutched the handset scarcely able to breathe. I’d got him. I was sure of it. And then he slipped away. ‘Three single male travellers? And all booked online shortly before departure?’ Damn. ‘Did they all take their seats? Only one. Good and his name? Hendriksen. Tajo Hendriksen. Thanks, yes. You’ve been very helpful.’
I slammed the handset in place and slumped back in my chair exhausted. Hendriksen was the name Mark Brown had used to collect the hire car rented to kill Lily. So who was travelling on the false passport? My guess was that it was Gundersen on the Eurostar to Brussels. If I was right, he was heading for Denmark. I called DI Blaine again. Getting the Danish to arrest one of their own was far above my pay grade.
‘Good work DJ,’ she said. ‘I’ll get the super onto it. The Commissioner will need to call the Danish Embassy. But well done. Looks like we’ve nearly got him.’
I put the phone down. There was no point in mentioning she’d never suspected Topher Gundersen. Not even once. But if he was out of the country and not likely to come back voluntarily, it was safe for Lily to go home. I couldn’t wait to tell her.
Chapter Sixty-Six
Lily
Sally passed me the handset with a smile. ‘Good news,’ she whispered.
I nodded, but I was still anxious until I heard Denise’s voice. ‘Hi. We’ve tracked him down. He’s on his way back to Denmark,’ she said. ‘We know the name he’s travelling under so he’ll get stopped by the Danish Police. You can go home, Lily.’
I knew it was inadequate, but all I could think to say was thank you. I passed the phone back to Sally and collapsed at the bottom of the stairs. My heart pounded. I was free. I was really free.
‘The children,’ I said to Sally and she passed the phone back to me.
‘I’ll go and get us both a drink to celebrate,’ she said. She bustled to the kitchen and I heard glasses and a bottle opening. I dialled my father’s number and waited for him to answer.
‘It’s me,’ I said.
‘Who else would call me from London, sweetheart?’ I smiled to myself at how different the responses were from my parents. With Mummy I could always envisage the telephone lines freezing as she spoke.
‘They’ve not been able to arrest Topher,’ I said. ‘he’s left the country. Heading back to Denmark’
‘Really,’ he said. ‘That’s a pain, I wanted to see him punished. I know it’s great news for you, though. I’ll drive back in the morning with the kids.’
‘Thank you, Dad. I couldn’t have done this without you. Thank you for believing I’m innocent and I can go home with my children,’ I said. I was shocked at how firm my voice sounded. Gone was the usual tremor. I had finally grown up? ‘The police seem confident that they’ll get him back.’
‘Good,’ Dad said. I heard the smile in his voice. ‘Have you told your mother yet?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’ll let her know when it’s all over.’
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Goodnight darling.’ The single tone sounding in my ear told me he’d put the phone down. Tears pricked my eyes but instead of biting them back I let them fall and sobbed. All of the pain of the last few months flowed out of me and, for once, I let it.
Denise
I sat back in my chair, resting my feet on the desk and clutched a hot coffee in my hands. Not the outcome I’d hoped for. Slipping handcuffs on Topher Gundersen’s tanned wrists had begun to fill my dreams. Wiping that smug smile off his face. I sighed; it was not to be.
The St Pancras station CCTV was still running and I watched as Mark Brown strolled away tossing car keys in his hand. Time to bring you in as well, I thought. He walked towards the exit, as I sipped my coffee and struggling to keep my eyes open.
My head lolled onto the chairback, and I gave up on the struggle with my eyes, allowing them to close. Above my head the fluorescent light shimmered, causing a pale orange flicker against my retina. Just five minutes and then I’d request a warrant for Mark Brown.
I took in a deep breath and released it, and another. With the third breath I knew I was going to fall asleep. I gave myself a shake, placed the coffee mug back on the desk. Reaching forward to switch the laptop off, I swore softly. Why had Mark Brown come to meet Gundersen at the station. Not to bring him his car if he was now walking away with the keys. What the hell was going wrong. Then I saw it. I swore loudly.
I flicked to the footage of Gundersen going into the bar, then I watched him leaving. When he left he was a foot shorter and his overcoat was baggy.
The baseball hat guy, on the other hand, had gown taller and the jacket was too small f
or him to do up.
‘Guv,’ I yelled. ‘Problem!’
DI Blaine was by my side in moments. ‘What,’ she said.
‘Look.’ I pointed at the screen, rerunning the footage of Gundersen entering and leaving the bar.
‘Oh fuck,’ she said. ‘Go. Go now. I’ll call uniform. They’ll meet you there.’
I ran for my car. Taking the stairs two, three at a time. Placing the blue light on the car roof I hit the button and squealed out of the station car park like a boy-racer. I could only hope I wouldn’t be too late.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Lily
I stepped back into the house and noticed the stale smell. It had only been locked up for a few days but it was still stuffy. Dust lay on all the polished surfaces making them dull. Taking Denise’s advice I only opened the small windows at the front of the house. I opened up the roof lanterns at the rear and ran up the stairs to fling open all the windows allowing light and fresh air to flood the first floor and the master suite on the top floor.
I changed all the towels in my bathroom and put fresh sheets on the bed. It looked strange with only one set of pillows, but I would never need pillows for someone else in my bed ever again. When Topher was found he would go straight to prison and I would divorce him and keep my children.
I made my way downstairs and had a cup of tea before tackling the children’s rooms. I collected their clothes together and took them downstairs to be washed. Then I changed their bedding. They’d be home soon and I couldn’t wait to see them. I heard the front door open. I frowned; they’d made good time. I hadn’t realised my father had kept a key for himself and I rushed to the landing to greet them. I was halfway down the stairs when I realised that it was not my father in the hallway. It was Topher. Scruffy and dishevelled, but it was definitely Topher.
‘Ah, my darling wife,’ he growled. ‘How good it is to see you. It’s been far too long.’
‘What are you doing here? You can’t be here. The children are coming home any minute.’
‘Yes, then we can all go away together,’ he smiled at me. That slow treacherous smile which never reached his eyes.
‘I’m going nowhere with you,’ I told him. ‘I’m calling the police. They’ll arrest you and send you to prison for killing Stephanie.’ I turned to go to the bedroom and the land line. All at once I was face down on the stairs. Topher had hold of my foot and was dragging me down the stairs.
I twisted around and tried to kick at his hand, but he only gripped tighter. I dug my fingernails into the stair carpet and heaved, desperate to escape from his grasp. I felt my ballet pump loosen and my foot was free. Without looking around I raced up the stairs into the master suite. I locked the door and looked around. Damn, I’d trapped myself in the bedroom. I went to the window and opened it but it was too far down to jump on to the extension’s roof. I picked up the phone and dial 999, but before I heard an answer Topher was pounding against the door His fists and feet thumped the wood and the door was vibrating under the torrent of abuse. I knew it would not be long before he was through the door and it would be my flesh meeting his fists and feet, not wood.
I looked around frantically and, then I remembered. I scrabbled over the bed to the side which had been Topher’s and pressing my index finger on the hidden button, I opened the eaves cupboard. Hoping against hope the police hadn’t found it and taken it away.
I reached in and laid my hands on cool, smooth metal. Breathing in the unmistakable smell of gun oil. I pulled the shotgun out of the cupboard but, as I looked back inside the cupboard for the box of cartridges, the bedroom door finally gave way.
Topher burst into the room and stood in the doorway heaving. Breathless and angry.
I picked up the gun and nestled the stock into my shoulder as Dad had taught me.
Topher stepped toward me. ‘Oh don’t be bloody stupid, Lily. Give me the fucking gun.’
Trembling, but with the gun still resting under my cheekbone I backed away from the bed, so he couldn’t dive across it at me. Topher took another step forward. I sidestepped to the end of the bed.
‘You killed Stephanie,’ I said. ‘You killed my best friend.’
‘I am your husband,’ he said, holding his hands out towards me. ‘You should not need any other friends. You should only need me.’
His brave words, didn’t to terrify me today, he’d taken a step back. His smile strained and eyes wary. I edged forward. He took another step backwards.
‘I’ve called the police,’ I said.
‘I doubt it,’ he said. He cocked his head to one side. The grin was unbearably smug. ‘I cut the line before I came in and I’m sure you haven’t a clue where your mobile is.’
Damn, I knew he was right. My phone should have been in my handbag in the kitchen. I wilted momentarily and then smiled when I realised I did know where my phone was.
Topher frowned. ‘Why are you smiling?’ he said.
‘Because I do know where my phone is, Topher,’ I said. ‘It’s in my back pocket.’
He blinked, a flicker of disbelief washed across his face and I moved closer to him. He glimpsed behind and backed out of the bedroom. I eyed the door. Could I barricade myself in here until the police arrived? But that would mean dropping the gun and he’d be free to roam the house.
‘Come on, Lily,’ he cooed at me. ‘You don’t want to do this. I’m your husband. You love me. We’re happy together. We make a great team.’
I heard his words but it wasn’t a version of our marriage I recognised.
We continued the strange dance. He stepped back as I moved forward. Like a waltz with roles reversed.
‘I’ll change, Lily,’ he said. ‘I’ll go to counselling. Everything will be better. You’ll see.’ I shook my head. Part denial and partly to remove his insidious voice from inside my mind.
At the top of the stairs, he wobbled for a moment and clutched at the newel post. I moved forward and Topher lunged for the barrel of the shotgun. He wrestled with it. Twisting it in my hands as I tried to hold on to the gun. I slipped two fingers into the trigger guard hoping I’d be strong enough to hold on. If I let him get hold of the gun… I gritted my teeth and gave one final pull. Topher fell backwards down the stairs.
The smell of cordite and blood mixed in the air, assaulting my nostrils and I vomited. My ears still ringing from the sound of the blast, I collapsed in a heap, clutching my fingers, sore from where the gun had been wrenched from my hand. I leaned my head against the cool wood of the banister as I sobbed. I cringed, expecting Topher to run up the stairs, to pull my hair and kick me but, when he didn’t, I took a peek at him. He was still lying at the foot of the stairs. The barrel was still in his right hand, but what was left of his chest, was bloody. Blood dripped down the wall behind him.
I sat at the top of the stairs, reflecting on what Topher had said about intruders not taking the gun from us. Funny the mistaken assumptions we make.
I sighed and then reached in my pocket for my phone and called DC Jones.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Denise
I arrived at Lily’s house under blues and twos. The ambulance had already arrived although Lily had assured me Topher was dead, paramedics can pronounce life extinct and give a time of death. Once Kendra had finished with the crime scene they could take Topher’s body to the morgue.
Inside I beckoned Lily down the stairs and we went into the kitchen. She had blood splatter on her face which Kendra needed to photograph. She had the grey face of someone in deep shock and I called a paramedic to take a look at her.
‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Just a bit dazed. I thought he was my Dad back with the children. You told me he wouldn’t come back. What happened?’
‘He tricked us,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t Topher who left the country. He got Mark Brown to bring his car into central London and then take his place on the train. They swapped coats. A simple trick but it had me fooled for long enough. Brown has now disappeared in Belgium.’
I was on the point of telling her how sorry I was when there was a commotion at the front door.
I had started to learn to recognise the dulcet tones of Lillian Stanton.
She burst past the police officer on the door, bustled into the kitchen. ‘What the hell is going on here?’ she demanded. ‘I saw about Topher on the news. I’ve come to take the children home with me.’
‘This children aren’t here,’ Lily said. ‘They’re with Dad.’
‘What on earth have you done that for? Have you lost your mind?’
‘Be quiet mother,’ she said. ‘There’s been an accident.’
‘What kind of accident? Why have you got blood on your face?’
‘I can’t tell you,’ Lily said.
‘I’ll do it,’ I said. I took Lillian by the elbow and marched her into the rear garden. In the kitchen I could see Lily sat dazed. Kendra had come into the kitchen and was photographing her face. Taking blood samples. Lily wandered to the sink and washed her face.
‘Well, sergeant, I’m waiting,’ said Lillian. ‘What kind of accident?’
‘Mr Gundersen has been shot,’ I said.
‘You mean Lily’s murdered him!’ She turned to the scene in the kitchen and began to stride towards the woeful setting inside.
I grabbed her arm and she yelped. ‘I’m sorry, but you need to listen,’ I said. ‘Your son-in-law came back here tonight, assaulted your daughter and was shot when he tried to wrestle the shotgun from her.
‘So you’re just taking her word for it!’
‘No, we’ve obtained access to an application on Mr Gundersen’s mobile phone. The footage on there backs up Lily’s version of events.’
‘Version. Yes, that’s a good word for her constant lies.’ She rubbed her arm where I had grabbed it. ‘I only came to collect the children.’
The Love Trap: an unputdownable psychological thriller Page 24
