Sidney Sheldon's the Tides of Memory

by Sidney Sheldon

  There was no bell, so he knocked firmly on the front door. To his surprise, it opened.

  “Sergei?”

  It wasn’t like him to be so lax with security. Then again, the boy could drink, especially when he was agitated, as he had been recently. He’s probably passed out on the bed with a bottle of Stoli.

  But no. The bedroom was empty, a pile of neatly folded clothes the only sign that Sergei had been home at all. Did he leave in a hurry and forget to close the front door behind him? Maybe. But again, there was nothing lying around to suggest such a rush. Everything was as it should be, ordered, organized, clean.

  Sir Edward Manning pushed open the door to the bathroom. If Sergei had left town, he’d have taken his toiletries, his personal things. The boy’s mind might be a depraved sewer, but his hygiene habits were irreproachable.

  The bath was on a raised platform, a sort of marble pedestal. The first thing Sir Edward Manning noticed was that it was overflowing.

  The second thing he noticed was that it wasn’t overflowing with water.

  It was overflowing with blood.

  Sergei Milescu’s corpse bobbed grotesquely in the water, sliced down the middle like a butchered pig. He’d been disemboweled.

  Sir Edward Manning turned and ran.

  Emerging from the QC’s office into the bright afternoon light, Alexia walked down Gray’s Inn Road with no sense of where she was going or why. With Teddy by her side, she felt strong, capable, resilient. Without him, and without her political career to anchor her and give her focus, she was lost, drifting, as insubstantial and helpless as a feather in the wind.

  I’m frightened.

  The realization came as a shock. She stopped. Part of her wanted to run back to Angus Grey’s office, to have Angus reassure her that Teddy was bound to be released tonight, that it would all be all right. The police could only hold him for forty-eight hours unless they charged him. But Angus would be on his way to court by now.

  She could go to Oxford and wait for news, but where would she stay? The thought of another night in a hotel depressed her deeply. I can’t live my life on the run. But she could hardly go home either, not with her resignation about to be announced tomorrow. Kingsmere was still a crime scene, and would be crawling with police and news reporters for the next few weeks at least. Cheyne Walk was her best bet, but that too would be surrounded by journalists awaiting news of her resignation like wolves slavering at the prospect of fresh meat. I can’t face them yet. Not alone. Not without Teddy.

  “Excuse me.”

  An unseen hand tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped.

  “What? What do you want?”

  The hand belonged to a woman. She looked at Alexia curiously.

  “Your phone’s ringing.”

  In a daze, Alexia pulled the cell out of her bag. “Hello?”

  Lucy Meyer’s voice was like a message from another planet. “Alexia. Thank Gaaad you picked up. What on earth’s going on over there? We saw something on the news about a murder at Kingsmere, but Summer hasn’t told us anything. Is it true?”

  “It’s true,” Alexia said bleakly. “They found a body. It was Andrew, Roxie’s ex.”

  Lucy gasped. “No way.”

  “I know. It’s insanity, Luce. The police are still questioning Teddy.”

  “But surely they don’t think Teddy—”

  “I don’t know what they think. I’ve resigned from the cabinet.”

  “Oh my God, Alexia, no! You can’t.”

  “I had to. Roxanne’s had a collapse. I really . . . I can’t begin to describe how bad things are.” Her voice was breaking. Aware that people on the street were staring at her, Alexia ducked into an alleyway. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to go.”

  “I do,” Lucy said immediately. “Come here.”

  Alexia pictured Lucy in her kitchen at Martha’s Vineyard, apron on, hands covered in flour. How she longed for that wholesomeness, that normality, that safe, stable predictable cocoon in which Lucy Meyer lived her life. A life without ambition, without risk, without tragedy.

  “You’re so sweet.”

  “I’m not sweet,” said Lucy. “I’m serious. Come here. You need to recuperate anyway. It was only a couple of weeks ago that you got shot, for God’s sake. You’re not superwoman.”

  “So it would seem,” Alexia said sadly.

  “So do it. Get on the plane. Ride out the storm somewhere private and far away. Summer said you were thinking of coming anyway.”

  “I was. But that was before.”

  Why am I saying no? What’s wrong with me? This is exactly what I want. What I need. I need to be far away. I need to be safe.

  “I can’t. Thanks for the offer, but Teddy’s still in Oxford being questioned, and Roxie’s in a terrible way.” An insistent beep beep on the line told her someone else was trying to get through. “That might be the hospital,” Alexia told Lucy. “Or Teddy. I’ve gotta go.”

  With infinite reluctance, she dropped Lucy Meyer’s call.

  “Hello?”

  “Are you still in the vicinity?” Angus Grey sounded shaken.

  “Yes. I thought you were in court.”

  “I should be. I will be in five minutes. But I just received a call from Thames Valley police.”

  “Oh, thank God. They’ve let him go. Is he on his way to Kingsmere?”

  “I’m afraid not, Alexia.”

  “Then what?”

  “Teddy’s been charged with murder.”

  For a moment Alexia slumped back against the wall of the alley, winded with shock. But she quickly pulled herself together.

  “That’s impossible. That’s ridiculous. You said so yourself, they don’t have any evidence.”

  Angus Grey said, “Unfortunately, they don’t need any evidence. Not anymore. Teddy’s made a full confession.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  The room was more like an office than a prison cell. Teddy sat at a desk, his legs stretched out in front of him as if he were at home in front of the fire, while Alexia paced nervously back and forth.

  Things had moved quickly. By the time Alexia and Angus Grey arrived in Oxford, Teddy had already been in front of a crown court judge and remanded into custody pending trial. In less than an hour he’d be transferred to a secure wing of Oxford Prison.

  Alexia asked, “Is it true?”

  “Is what true, my dear?”

  “Did you really kill Andrew?”

  She felt as if she were talking to a stranger. As if this were all some awful, bizarre dream and she would wake up at any moment.

  “I did,” Teddy said calmly. “Somebody had to. I hadn’t planned to confess, but there was no other way. Not with that dreadful man Wilmott on the scent, like a dog with a bone. If I’d kept quiet any longer, it would only have dragged things out. I didn’t want the family name sullied any more than it needs to be. Better to get the thing over with now.”

  Alexia clutched her head. This can’t be happening.

  Angus Grey said, “Can you tell us exactly what happened, Teddy?”

  “Surely.” Teddy smiled, as if recounting an amusing anecdote. “I went to meet Beesley at the Garrick, as Alexia knows. I offered him money to push off back to Australia.”

  Alexia nodded. “He took the money. I checked our accounts myself. That check was cashed.”

  “So it was, my dear.”

  “And he moved back to Australia.”

  “He did. But some vestige of conscience must have got the better of him, because about a month later, blow me down with a feather if the little shit didn’t come back. I remember it vividly. I was at Paddington station about to catch the train when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and there he was, bold as brass. Beesley. Told me he’d had a change of heart, that he was in love with Roxie and he wanted to return the three hundred grand.”

  Angus Grey asked, “What happened then?”

  “Well, I was shocked, obviously. Had to think on my f
eet. He was talking about marrying Roxie. Clearly I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “But why not? He came back for her, Teddy!” Alexia had tears in her eyes.

  Teddy’s expression darkened. “Came back for more money, you mean. He knew we’d never cut her off. That if he married her, he’d be set for life. Besides, darling, be reasonable. The man was a tennis coach! Hardly an appropriate match for a De Vere.”

  Alexia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The man opposite her looked like Teddy. He sounded like Teddy. But the things he was implying—that he’d murdered a man out of nothing more than snobbery—that wasn’t the Teddy De Vere that she knew. Thought she knew.

  Teddy went on. “I told him to come and see me the following day, at Kingsmere. We’d go shooting and talk about things.”

  “Did you intend to kill him?” Angus Grey asked bluntly.

  “I did. I was worried I might not be able to go through with it. I didn’t know for sure if I could . . .”

  “If you could shoot him?” Alexia whispered.

  “Yes. But it was easier than I thought. He was such an oaf, trying to play the big man, telling me he would marry Roxanne with or without my permission, that there was nothing I could do to stop him. You should have heard him, Alexia. If ever a fellow got what was coming to him, it was Andrew bloody Beesley.”

  Angus and Alexia exchanged horrified glances. Neither of them had ever seen this side of Teddy before. He told the story without a shred of remorse.

  “What happened after you shot him?” Angus asked calmly. As Teddy’s senior counsel, he needed to have a handle on all the facts, however damning.

  “Nothing happened,” said Teddy. “That was the beauty of it. I dug a hole, buried him, and that was that. I kept waiting for something to happen, for the police or his family to knock on the door. But there was nothing.”

  Alexia looked away. She remembered a time, long ago, when she too had waited for retribution, for justice that never came. Thinking about it now, she could still feel the prickle of anxiety on her skin, the gnawing fear churning in her stomach and tightening like a knot in her chest. How did I not see that in Teddy? I was there. How did I miss the signs?

  “Then poor old Rox had her accident,” said Teddy. “To be perfectly honest, I forgot about Beesley after that. Roxanne was all that mattered.”

  “You forgot?” asked Angus.

  “I’m afraid so. The years passed. I had no reason to remember. Beesley was dead and buried and the secret was safe. I didn’t think I’d left him so close to the pagoda site, but I suppose I must have. In any case, when I buried him it was far too deep for an animal to uncover. Michael must have found the body and moved it.”

  Alexia shook her head. She had to believe in Michael’s innocence at least. “No. He would have said something.”

  Teddy said gently, “I suspect that he recognized the watch, just like his sister did, and put two and two together. Remember, as far as Michael knew, it was you who’d scared Beesley off, not me. That was the story we agreed on, you see,” Teddy explained to Angus. “For Roxie’s sake. Michael probably thought you’d done Andrew in. I imagine he was trying to protect you, Alexia.”

  Alexia began pacing again, walking faster and faster until she was almost running. Teddy’s theory had a hideous ring of truth to it.

  Michael crashed that bike believing that I’d done it. That I’d executed that boy in cold blood. That’s why he was so distracted. He thinks I’m a murderer, and now I may never have a chance to tell him I’m not.

  Angus Grey tried to be practical. “All right, Teddy. Well, you’ve been very honest. As far as sentencing goes, I think the key will be to acknowledge that honesty and to make it clear that you sincerely regret what you did.”

  Teddy looked confused. “Regret it? Why should I regret it, Angus? My duty, my purpose in life, is to protect my family and to preserve the good name of the De Veres. Andrew Beesley got what was coming to him. He threatened the family and I neutralized that threat.”

  Alexia started to cry. What happened to my Teddy, my gentle giant?

  “Angus, would you leave us for a moment?” said Teddy. As soon as he and Alexia were alone, he put his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “Why are you crying?”

  “Because I don’t know you!” she sobbed despairingly.

  “Yes you do,” said Teddy. “Everything I’ve ever done, I’ve done to protect our family. I killed Andrew to protect Roxanne. I’ve killed for you too, you know.”

  At first Alexia thought she’d misheard him. “What?”

  “Oh, come now,” said Teddy. “You don’t mean to tell me that you never suspected.”

  Alexia’s head was spinning. She felt as if she were drunk, or high, two feelings she hadn’t experienced in forty years. “Suspected what, Teddy?”

  Teddy looked her in the eye and said:

  “That it was me who killed Billy Hamlin.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  The blood drained from Alexia’s face.

  “You killed Billy?”

  “I had to. I did it for you, darling, don’t you see? He was going to bring you down, to dredge up your past and all the scandal you’ve spent your life trying to hide. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  Alexia sank down onto a hard metal chair. Her knees would no longer support her.

  “You know about my past?”

  “Of course.” Teddy smiled. “I’ve always known.”

  “What do you know, exactly?”

  “Everything. I know everything. You don’t think that I would marry a woman without knowing who she was? That I would put the De Vere family name at risk, without knowing what I was getting into? I know that you were born Antonia Gilletti.”

  Alexia gasped.

  “I know that you’re American by birth. That you dabbled in drugs in your youth. That you were involved in a murder trial after the death of a little boy named Handemeyer. That Billy Hamlin was your lover.”

  “Stop. Please stop.”

  Alexia was shaking. It felt so wrong, hearing Teddy say these things. All these years she’d been terrified about him finding out about her past. Terrified of losing the one good, decent thing in her life. But he knew! He’d known all along. The fear, the deceit, the loneliness. It had all been for nothing.

  All these years, I felt guilty for having fooled him. But it was really Teddy who fooled me. He knows me inside out. And I don’t know him at all.

  “Don’t look so sad,” said Teddy, reading her thoughts. “I loved you from the first moment I saw you, you know, behind the bar at the Coach and Horses. I’d heard rumors about the beautiful girl temping for Clive Leinster, and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Of course, once I saw you, it was clear. You were utterly out of my league.”

  “That’s not true,” said Alexia on autopilot.

  “Of course it’s true. I knew from the beginning that you weren’t in love with me,” Teddy continued with a sweet, self-deprecating smile. “Why would you be, a boring old duffer like me? Or young duffer, as I suppose I was then. But I also knew I had to have you. Naturally my family disapproved. They hadn’t envisaged a barmaid becoming the next Lady De Vere. But I didn’t care. Nothing would have stopped me marrying you, Alexia. I want to be clear about that.”

  Teddy took her hand and kissed it. Alexia tried not to think about that same hand stabbing poor Billy Hamlin in the heart, or pulling the trigger that ended the life of young Andrew Beesley.

  “But I am a De Vere,” Teddy went on. “And I take that seriously. I needed to know what I was getting myself, and the family, into. I needed to know more about you. So I did some digging.”

  “How?” asked Alexia. All these years she’d been in the public eye, and not once had a single journalist come close to unearthing the truth about her past. How on earth had Teddy managed to learn the truth, and without her hearing a thing about it? Whom had he talked to?

  “One has one’s ways,” he said cryptically. “I
t’s hard to change your identity completely without leaving some form of a paper trail. You told me you’d studied at UCLA, so I started there. It didn’t take me long to discover that you hadn’t always been Alexia Parker. Once I unearthed Toni Gilletti, the rest emerged in dribs and drabs. I found the formal warnings you’d been given for drug offenses and shoplifting in your teens. Nothing so terrible there. Then I stumbled upon Camp Williams, and the Handemeyer murder trial. There were rumors that Billy Hamlin had covered for you about the little boy’s death, that you’d somehow been involved in it.”

  “Why didn’t you ask me? Confront me?”

  Teddy shrugged. “Because you clearly didn’t want me to know. Besides, I didn’t care about any of that. It all happened long before I met you. What mattered to me was that Hamlin must have loved you very deeply. If the rumors were true, and he took the blame. That’s quite a sacrifice.”

  “Yes,” said Alexia. “It is. It was.”

  “I assumed that when Billy got out of prison, he might come looking for you. So I decided to keep an eye on him. Nothing sinister, mark you. I simply made sure I knew when he was due for parole, that sort of thing. I didn’t want him spoiling things between us. I didn’t know how you felt about him.”

  “Oh, Teddy! Why didn’t you talk to me?”

  “For the same reason you didn’t talk to me, I imagine,” Teddy said. “Fear. I was terrified of losing you, Alexia.” Reaching out, he stroked her cheek tenderly. “Anyway, as it turned out I needn’t have worried. Not then, anyway. After he was released, he sniffed around your old haunts for a while, trying to find you. But after a few dead ends, he gave up. Got married, started a business, had a child. He seemed to be happy and I believed, I hoped, that that would be that. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. You were appointed home secretary, and everything changed. Barely a week later, Hamlin shows up at Kingsmere like a rotten penny.”

  Slowly it dawned on Alexia. “You thought he’d come back to blackmail me.”