The One You Trust: Emma Holden Trilogy: Book Three

by Paul Pilkington

  At this, Guy affected not to hear her, instead glancing at a clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I’ve got an important call coming through from New York in a few minutes.’

  It was the moment Lizzy had been waiting for – now she knew she had him under pressure. ‘Feeling uncomfortable at the line of questioning?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  But his expression told the true story. It was time to go for the jugular. ‘Why does Firework Films exploit the people who take part in its programmes?’

  ‘We don’t exploit anyone.’

  ‘So you don’t try to bribe people who complain about how you have treated them?’

  ‘I think you should get your facts straight before you start making such wild accusations.’

  ‘Oh, I have. How many people have you threatened to keep quiet?’

  ‘Who have you been talking to?’

  ‘That really doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘Your company, it’s criminal in the way it works. I’m sure the police would be very interested in hearing about it all.’

  ‘Adrian Spencer,’ he said. ‘He’s been telling you all this, hasn’t he?’

  Lizzy didn’t answer.

  Guy smiled, seeming to have regained some of his bounce. ‘Your silence is your answer, Lizzy. Let me guess, Adrian Spencer made contact with you a few days ago. Am I right?’

  Again Lizzy stayed quiet. She hadn’t wanted to bring Adrian Spencer into this, although it now seemed impossible to avoid.

  ‘Adrian Spencer was, we had thought, a hard-working and loyal member of the Firework Films team. That was until last week, when we discovered that he had been intimidating an old lady into taking part in an up-coming programme. Given how he had behaved with you, coupled with this new complaint, we had no choice but to let him go.’

  ‘You’re lying.’

  ‘Believe what you want to believe. We sacked him, and he’s obviously now aggrieved. So he takes his revenge by going to you and saying what he said. It’s all lies, Lizzy, the man can’t be trusted. He’s bitter and out for revenge.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?’

  Guy frowned. ‘How so?’

  ‘Well, aren’t you still bitter about Emma rejecting the part in the movie? And isn’t the docudrama about you taking revenge?’

  ‘Absolutely not. I’ve already told you, it’s purely a commercial decision.’ His face was stony. But was that a twitch?

  ‘It’s going to cause us a lot of pain.’

  He shrugged. ‘Don’t watch it if you feel it will negatively affect you.’

  ‘Thank you for your very helpful advice. I take it you’ve heard that Peter Myers has escaped from prison?’

  ‘I had heard that, yes.’ He still didn’t show any emotion.

  ‘I bet you’re happy. It’s more drama for your programme.’ Lizzy had decided not to tell him about Emma’s disappearance. She didn’t think she could cope with his feigned concern.

  ‘Maybe it’s time you left. My transatlantic call will be coming through any minute.’

  On cue, the phone in the corner started to ring. He looked relieved to be able to end their conversation. ‘Lizzy, you don’t mind seeing yourself out, do you?’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’d be more than happy to.’

  As Lizzy left the room she heard Guy Roberts pick up and say hello. He was gushing to someone called Brad, talking loudly enough that Lizzy believed it was for her benefit: ‘Oh, yes, glad to hear the film is going so well, Brad, my man. I have a strong feeling about the Oscars.’

  Lizzy paused at the bottom of the staircase near the front door, now out of earshot, and shook her head in frustration. She felt as though she hadn’t played that very well. She had got off some shots, yes, done a little bit of damage – at one point he had definitely been struggling. But she hadn’t inflicted the significant blow that she had sought. Indeed, he seemed to have ended the conversation in the ascendancy. And for that, Lizzy felt that she had let herself, and, more upsettingly for her, Emma down.

  She stood there for a moment, tempted to wait until his phone conversation was over before going back in for a second attempt. Then she heard a noise coming from upstairs. She listened carefully. There was another noise. It was definitely another person. Guy Roberts lived alone, she knew that.

  It seemed ridiculous, but her first thought was: Could it be Emma?

  Chapter 35

  ‘Tell me what you think,’ Mark Gasnier said to DS Davies, as they sat in the stiflingly hot station office that Thursday morning. Davies pulled at his shirt collar, to relieve the pressure on his wide neck – there was a time when he had had no trouble fitting into a size seventeen. Maybe he should try to lose some of that excess weight he’d put on a few years ago. The heating was on full blast, and they were waiting impatiently and uncomfortably for the CCTV recording to be delivered. A couple of uniformed officers were currently en route from the private contractor who operated the cameras for the local council. ‘What’s your gut feeling about Emma Holden?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Davies replied.

  Gasnier raised an eyebrow. ‘All those years of police training, thousands of hours of case experience, and that’s all you can come up with?’

  Davies shrugged. ‘Something doesn’t make sense to me.’

  Gasnier seemed more satisfied with that response. ‘Feel free to expand . . .’

  ‘Well, I know I didn’t see the flat but, from what you said, there were no signs of a struggle. If she’d been abducted, then you would expect there to be some signs of violence. Unless the person came to the front door, pulled out a gun or knife and led her outside without needing to use any force. What do you think?’

  Gasnier picked up a pen from the desk and twirled it around his fingers. He wasn’t ready yet to reveal his own opinion. ‘Have you got any other theories about what’s happened to her?’

  ‘Well, the most obvious explanation is that she left of her own accord. Either on her own, or with someone she knows.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Gasnier said, placing the pen carefully and deliberately back on the desk so that it lay parallel to the grain in the wood. He sat back. ‘So, what about the first option. How likely do you think it is that she just walked out and left?’

  ‘Hopefully the CCTV will answer these questions in the next few minutes.’

  Gasnier smiled. ‘But it’s fun to hypothesise. It keeps the brain active. And we’re passing time. So, do you think she could have just walked out?’ He sipped from his plastic cup of water. Coffee would have been his drink of choice, but the machine was playing up again, spouting sludge that resembled something that might be found on a beach after an oil spillage.

  ‘Possibly, although if that’s the case, she would have known that she would be causing a lot of hurt to her friends and family. And from our dealings with her, my instinct is that Emma isn’t the kind of person who would be comfortable doing something like that.’

  ‘You might have got her wrong.’

  ‘I might. But I don’t think so. She seems like a genuine person to me.’

  ‘Are there circumstances in which you think she might consider doing it, despite the hurt it would cause?’

  Davies thought. ‘Well, if she thought that the benefits of leaving would outweigh the negatives.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘She might have done it to protect them. She might believe that she’s the one placing them at harm, that Peter Myers is out of prison and after her, so if she leaves, her friends and family are in less danger.’

  ‘Possibly. Do you think that’s likely?’ Gasnier looked hard at the younger man.

  ‘No, not really. I don’t think she would do it – just walk out without any explanation. She didn’t need to do that. She could have left a note, called them or sent a text, and still achieved the same outcome. That would have avoided the suffering. So I think if she wasn’t taken by force, it’s more likely that she left the flat with someone she knew and trusted.’
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  ‘So who could that be?’

  ‘Any of her friends and family.’

  ‘No one specific in mind?’

  ‘No, not really. It could be anyone – maybe someone we don’t know about.’

  ‘And what about a motive?’

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘We can speak to them all, see where they were yesterday morning. That’s if the CCTV doesn’t answer the questions for us.’

  ‘Should be here any minute,’ Davies said, referring to his watch.

  Gasnier exhaled and glared at the door. ‘You said the same thing ten minutes ago. They should blue light it over here.’

  Davies nodded. ‘You haven’t given your opinion yet. What do you think is the most likely scenario?’

  ‘I’m of the same mind as you. Something doesn’t feel right about all this – not right at all. I agree that the lack of any struggle in the flat is very suspicious. And when I was talking to Lizzy and Dan, I got a sense that there was something they were holding back.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know. But I just had a feeling there’s more going on than they’re telling me. I had the distinct impression that I was getting half the story, which wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest when it comes to that group of people.’

  ‘You suspect one of them might be involved in Emma’s disappearance?’

  ‘Possibly. But probably not Lizzy.’

  ‘You’re still not sure about Dan, are you?’

  ‘You know my suspicions about what happened. I know there’s no evidence that Dan wasn’t the innocent victim he claims to be, but I still have concerns. It’s as if the jigsaw was put together, but there were a few pieces out of place.’

  ‘So do you think Dan is a greater suspect here than Peter Myers?’ Davies started making little doodles on the jotter that was on the desk. He found it helped him link ideas, and his boss was throwing out some good ones.

  ‘I’m not saying that. And I’m not saying categorically that there was something else about his disappearance. After all, Peter Myers did confess. But I’m keeping an open mind. We both know that sometimes danger lies much closer to home than most people would ever want to believe.’

  ‘We certainly do.’ They’d investigated many murder and disappearance cases where the perpetrator was found to be the grieving spouse or loving family member. Sometimes the level of deception – and performances given by those individuals – was astounding.

  There was a knock on the door.

  ‘At last,’ Gasnier said to himself. ‘Come in.’

  A young, uniformed constable entered with a padded envelope in hand. ‘Sir, the CCTV recording. Sorry we were so long. Got stuck in an accident on Hammersmith Bridge.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Gasnier said, taking the package. He looked over at DS Davies. ‘Time to see whether any of our theories are correct.’

  Chapter 36

  Without really thinking through the consequences, Lizzy decided that she had to find out who it was in Guy Roberts’ house.

  She began to climb the first few stairs, hoping that they didn’t creak. But she didn’t need to worry – the thick pile of the carpet muffled any sound of her ascent. She reached halfway and stopped to listen. The stairs curved around to the right towards the top, and she could only see up another few steps before the bend. No noise from above. But below, she could hear Guy Roberts again. He was still on the phone. That was good.

  As she went to move, she caught sight of the picture – one of a series – hanging nearest to her in the stairwell. It had been shot using soft focus, but that was the only gentle thing about the image. It was raw and savage, and Lizzy could only hope that the clearly underage girl in the photograph had been happy to pose like that.

  Shaking her head to clear it of the image, as she moved on up the stairs Lizzy realised that her heart rate was fast, her breathing shallow. What am I thinking, going further into Guy Roberts’ house?

  She continued, and turned the corner; four more stairs and she was on the landing. A noise came from her left. It sounded like someone moving around behind the door at the end of the landing.

  Only then did Lizzy really consider the potential ramifications of what she was doing. She was snooping around someone else’s house. How would she explain it? Roberts might call the police. She looked back towards the staircase. But before she had had the time to really consider whether to abort her actions, she heard a lock click open on a door in front of her, and it swung open.

  A pretty girl emerged from a mist-filled bathroom. She was wrapped in a towel, with another towel twisted around her hair. ‘Oh, oh my god!’ she said, jumping back at the sight of Lizzy standing there.

  Lizzy felt the warmth of the steam against her hands as she held up her palms. ‘It’s okay, don’t be scared.’ The girl took another step back. She looked panicked, as if at any second she might shout out for help. Lizzy thought quickly. ‘I was just looking for the bathroom. I didn’t realise there was anyone else up here.’

  The girl nodded, but she still looked spooked and avoided eye contact, maybe out of embarrassment at being caught unawares.

  Feeling uncomfortable for the girl, Lizzy averted her eyes. But not before she had got one last look at her. She looked vaguely familiar. ‘Sorry for scaring you. I’ll go now.’

  ‘You don’t want to use the bathroom?’

  ‘I’m okay. Thanks, anyway.’

  Lizzy retreated back downstairs. Guy was still deep in conversation. She let herself out and was relieved to breathe in the fresh air and feel the sun and breeze on her face.

  Dan was waiting on the pavement, and turned around on hearing the door close. ‘Hey, you okay?’ he said, as Lizzy approached.

  ‘Not really. Have you heard anything from anyone?’

  ‘I phoned Will. There haven’t been any calls.’

  ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s get back to him.’

  ‘So, how did it go?’ Dan asked, as they crossed the road.

  ‘I let myself down in there. I should have made more of the information we had.’

  They turned right and headed towards the tube.

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He didn’t deny being part of Firework Films. In fact, he was proud of it. He taunted me about not wanting to be involved in the docudrama.’

  Dan shook his head. ‘He really is a low-life.’

  ‘Absolutely. I thought I had him, though, when I brought up the issue of the threats and bribery.’

  Dan stopped. ‘You didn’t say that?’

  ‘Of course I did. I couldn’t resist. But he just denied it. He said Adrian Spencer was lying because he’d been sacked.’

  ‘So he guessed who’d told you?’

  ‘He knew, really. I suppose it’s obvious.’

  ‘How did the conversation end?’

  ‘With a phone call from New York. He told me to let myself out. Except that I didn’t, not at first. I heard a noise from upstairs, so I went to investigate. I know it sounds silly, but I thought it might be Emma. Of course, it wasn’t.’

  ‘So who was it?’

  ‘A girl. Just stepped out of the shower. Younger than us by a few years, I reckon. She seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I’m thinking that maybe she’s an actress who I’ve seen somewhere. Maybe at a party, or an audition. I don’t think I’ve spoken to her, otherwise I’d remember more clearly.’ She blew out a puff of air in exasperation. ‘It’s really annoying me that I can’t remember where I know her from!’

  Dan snorted. ‘I can imagine Guy Roberts using his position to seduce younger girls. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he makes a regular thing of it.’

  ‘He probably offered her a part in his next project, just to get her into his bed.’ Lizzy shuddered. ‘No role would be worth that.’

  ‘Not for you, maybe. But for someone just starting out, desperate to get their big break, they just might do it.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it. I’
ve heard lots of stories of girls doing similar, or worse, to get the role that they wanted. One of my friends slept with a producer, on the promise that he would find a role for her in a new West End play.’ Lizzy broke into a jog to cross the road in front of a taxi, which hooted at her. ‘Of course, it was just a load of rubbish. She never really got over it – she quit acting the next year.’

  ‘Yes, it’s terrible.’ But Lizzy could see that Dan was thinking about something else. ‘Did you tell Guy about Emma?’

  ‘No. I didn’t want to see his reaction. But I did mention Peter Myers, and he knew about it.’

  ‘I wonder how he knows, seeing as it’s not been made public yet.’

  ‘No idea. But it shows he’s got good contacts.’

  ‘I bet he’s loving all this.’

  ‘Oh, he admitted as much,’ she said. ‘I wanted to punch his lights out, but it would only have given him more material.’

  ‘True. Come on,’ Dan said. ‘Enough of that man. Let’s get back to the flat.’

  DI Gasnier rubbed his eyes. This had to be the most mind-numbingly boring thing he had done in a long time: reviewing CCTV footage of a street. Their time frame was more than an hour and a half, so there was a lot of material to go through, and then there was still the chance that they wouldn’t find an answer to their questions: the purpose of the CCTV’s introduction to deter vandalism along the row of shops meant that the direction of focus was not the best for assessing passers-by.

  ‘We’ve seen that woman before,’ Davies stated, pointing to a figure carrying a shopping bag. ‘A few minutes ago, she walked the other way.’

  ‘Just been to the shops,’ Gasnier replied.

  ‘Yes, probably.’

  Gasnier looked at the time. ‘Almost an hour in. Feels like longer.’ In that time, they’d seen quite a number of people walking past, but no one that resembled either Emma Holden or any of the other individuals known to her. He stifled a yawn.

  ‘At least we’ll soon be able to escape this broom-cupboard of a room. It’s so hot in here,’ Davies said.

  ‘Not soon enough,’ Gasnier replied. ‘If I’d wanted to watch CCTV, I would have got a job as an operative. I don’t know how those guys do it, staring at a screen for hours at a time, just in case something happens.’