Shadows to Ashes

by Tori de Clare

  Ask Dan questions about what? She hadn’t known then and didn’t know now. Did Dan have his phone with him? She doubted it. She’d run to Annabel’s villa to get hers, to try and make contact. No signal at all. She’d hurried to the water villa and couldn’t find Dan’s phone there either.

  Now what? She didn't know where the police had taken Dan. To a station somewhere, obviously. But where? She’d crossed the bridge linking the two islands and returned to Annabel’s villa and slumped in a chair where she’d stayed most of the night, clutching her phone, waiting for news, Joel making intermittent trips to the water bungalow to check if Dan had returned.

  Next day, she'd asked some questions about police stations and was told that there was one in Male. So she’d taken a seaplane to the capital, located the police station and begged for news. No one would help. No one knew what she was talking about. She was referred to as madam an awful lot. Sorry was brandished around unceasingly, but ultimately, she was left to rot in a waiting room while a ceiling fan whirred round and round. She did have a signal on her phone though. A voicemail was on there. Eagerly, she opened it. A woman with an Indian accent informed her that Mr Stone had been sent back to the UK. What? She tried to return the call five times. No answer.

  That evening, she took the last seaplane back to the island. Annabel and Joel were waiting anxiously for news. There wasn’t any. Just a message on Naomi’s phone saying that Dan was no longer there. The holiday was pointless now. Naomi begged Annabel and Joel to stay. They wouldn’t hear of it, not under the circumstances. So they booked the next flight home, all three of them. Naomi texted her parents from the airport to tell them they were returning. And here she was now, fretful and exhausted, Camilla demanding an explanation she didn’t have.

  ‘Well?’ Camilla said again, louder this time.

  Naomi slowly raised her head. ‘I have no answers, Mum. We didn’t get married, OK? Annabel didn’t either, not after what happened with Dan. For some reason that I haven’t been able to fathom, Dan was ripped from me at the ceremony and I haven’t seen him since.’

  ‘He’s in police custody,’ Camilla said. Her eyes were like marbles, hard, shiny, unblinking.

  Naomi was winded. ‘Here in Manchester?’

  ‘He’s wanted here in Manchester, but no, he’s still there. They’re trying to get some sort of international warrant to bring him back.’ Naomi sat, stunned. She’d returned home only because she’d been told Dan was no longer there. She’d been duped? ‘Like I said, his mother rang me in a terrible state. The police went round to her house to arrest Dan. She told them he was in the Maldives. Turns out he’s been arrested there too on other charges. She had no idea you two had been seeing each other either. I didn’t know what to say to the woman because I knew no more than she did. She was beside herself and I had no answers. None at all.’

  Naomi shook her head. Too much to absorb.

  ‘Why do the police want Dan here?’

  ‘For murder, Naomi. He’s being questioned for murder.’

  ‘Murder? That’s insane.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Of course it is.’ Naomi felt sick. The word murder with all its hard consonants had crashed into her thoughts. She couldn’t shift it. ‘Who’s he meant to have murdered? How do you know all this?’

  ‘The police have been here wanting to question you, that’s how.’

  ‘Question me?’

  ‘Yes. They want to know your level of involvement. It’s only a matter of time before they release details to the press and we’re back to square one.’

  ‘Level of involvement? We haven’t done anything wrong.’

  ‘Maybe you haven’t, but –’

  ‘Mum!’ Naomi stood up. Something snapped inside her. ‘He’s innocent. Get that? Whoever Dan’s supposed to have hurt, he didn’t do it.’

  Camilla’s voice was suddenly hushed.

  ‘How can you possibly know that? You’ve been blinded to that family, first to the oldest boy, and now . . . to him.’ Her tone started to rise. ‘You’re telling me you have no answers and I think you’re absolutely right. You know nothing. You’ve ruined your career and dragged our family’s name through the mud. And worst of all, you’ve done it all behind my back.’ She paused. Naomi felt empty of any kind of response. She could offer no comfort, no explanation. All she knew was that Dan was being wrongly accused and that she had to help him. ‘Have you nothing to say?’ Camilla erupted.

  Naomi looked up, dazed. She’d almost forgotten Camilla was in the room. ‘I love Dan,’ she said, spilling what was in her mind. ‘I won’t apologise for that. He’s innocent and I’m going to do everything I can to get him out of trouble.’

  ‘I forbid you to have anything more to do with him.’

  ‘What do you mean, you forbid me?’ Naomi said, standing, raising her voice. ‘I’m an adult, not a kid.’

  Camilla paused, steadied her gaze. ‘Cut ties with him completely or you’re no longer a part of this family.’

  Naomi shook her head. ‘You can’t mean that.’

  ‘I do. I can’t take any more, Naomi. I’ve done my best for you both.’ Her voice was quivering. She paused to take control. ‘If that isn’t good enough and you’re going to reject everything I’ve tried to do, then you’re on your own, same as Annabel.’

  ‘Loving Dan isn’t a rejection of you, Mum. People fall in love –’

  ‘He’s a criminal,’ she yelled. ‘He’s being questioned about the death of his own brother.’

  Naomi’s legs buckled. She dropped back into her chair. ‘Nathan?’

  ‘Does he have another one? And the police are very interested in your involvement. So wake up, Naomi.’

  Naomi dropped her head into her hands and felt all the fight leak out of her. Nathan? How? ‘I don’t understand,’ she whispered, thoughts slipping into words.

  ‘Well, isn’t that the truth!’ Camilla said, before thundering through the door.

  5

  Unable to find solace in sleep, Naomi stayed in her room and attempted to gather her thoughts. But after hours of effort, she’d collected very little. At four p.m., unable to make sense of anything, she picked up her phone to call her friend, PC Kerry Marshall. They’d kept in touch. Kerry had saved her life which had initiated a bond between them. After the ordeal of the train collision, Kerry seemed to need the contact as much as Naomi did. Kerry had even been through counselling for the trauma she’d endured following the accident – when Nathan’s life had been snatched by a moving train.

  How had an accident turned into a murder inquiry? The only murderous intentions that day had been in Nathan’s eyes when he’d wanted to prevent Naomi from escaping the car and living her life.

  And now Dan was wanted for his murder? It was senseless.

  Kerry’s mobile number only brought the message: this person’s phone is switched off. So she rang her home number, which rang six times before her answering machine clicked on. Naomi left a message and hung up, then sat in an exhausted stupor until Kerry rang back two hours later.

  Naomi snatched up her phone. ‘Kerry, I’m home. Do you know what’s happening with Dan?’

  ‘Slow down.’

  ‘What’s going on?’

  Kerry paused. ‘Look, I’m limited in what I can tell you. You understand?’

  ‘Kerry, come on. Police led Dan away during our wedding ceremony. Since then, I’ve been picking up clues wherever I can.’

  ‘Someone’s currently on their way to Male to retrieve Dan and accompany him back to the UK. That’s all I can tell you.’

  ‘He hasn’t done anything.’

  Kerry sighed at the other end of the phone and Naomi was becoming agitated. ‘Look, you’ll have to be questioned too, Naomi. Just to clear things up.’

  Naomi cut in, ‘You know this is a heap of crap, right? Someone set Dan up over there on assault charges or something, then I got a message telling me that Dan had returned to the UK. Bull, all of it. The phone that sent me tha
t message has been unobtainable ever since.’

  ‘I believe you. But police procedure is police procedure. I don’t have any power to change what’s happening now.’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you something could happen? Have you been investigating Solomon? That’s where you need to be focusing your attention.’

  ‘Look, Naomi, I can imagine how difficult this is for you –’

  ‘No you can’t, Kerry, because it's unimaginable. Can you imagine having your wedding stopped like that?’ Her voice began to falter. ‘He’s done nothing wrong and now he’s being held over there and I can’t even talk to him? We brought his stuff home. He has no clothes, no money, nothing.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ was all Kerry could say.

  ‘How do the police work out that Dan had anything to do with Nathan’s death? I was there. It was an accident.’

  ‘The belief now is that someone tampered with the brakes. The reports filed at the time were done by two separate bodies: mechanics, reporting on every aspect of the state of the vehicle. CSIs gathering their evidence.’

  ‘What’s all this got to do with Dan?’

  ‘Well, the CSIs combed the inside of the car and the general crash site while the mechanics poured over the vehicle itself. It wasn’t the job of the CSIs to check the workings of the car, so they missed DNA evidence left on the cap of the fluid reservoir. When Nathan crashed through that barrier, we now think it was because he couldn’t stop. Evidence points to Dan being responsible. He’s being charged with murder I’m afraid. It’s looking like it’ll go to trial.’

  ‘What evidence?’

  ‘Look, I’ve said all I can. We shouldn’t be talking.’ Her tone was loaded with apology. ‘I’m so sorry, but this is out of my hands now.’

  Naomi closed her eyes and felt a warm tear squeeze out from her eyelids and slip down her face. The conversation had run into a dead end. Kerry was as tied as Naomi was tired.

  Kerry said, finally, ‘We’re doing all we can, but we’re also facing hard facts and evidence. I wish things had worked out for you and Dan. You deserve some happiness.’

  ‘Yeah,’ was all Naomi could manage. Out of energy, she finished the call, collapsed onto her bed and sunk into unrestful sleep.

  ***

  Henry was pacing the lounge while Camilla was sitting in an armchair sipping a cup of tea. It was seven in the evening. A fierce wind was howling outside, the kind that rattled the trees and stripped them of leaves. It’d been an everlasting day.

  ‘That boy is still with Annabel. In her bed,’ Camilla reminded Henry for the fifth time. ‘It’s not right.’

  ‘A little late to be worrying about that, wouldn’t you say?’

  Camilla sighed and put her cup to her lips. ‘We’re going to be grandparents, Henry. I can’t take it in.’

  ‘Nor me.’

  ‘Annabel, a mother?’ She shook her head. ‘In a way, it’ll be a relief to see her leave. I don’t want to be saddled with a problem of their making. They can deal with it themselves if they’re so determined to –’

  ‘Annabel isn’t going anywhere,’ Henry said quietly.

  Camilla put her cup down on a nearby table. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Exactly what I said. Plain and simple.’

  Camilla was confused. ‘It isn’t like we can stop her.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Henry said. ‘But we don’t have to make an enemy of her either so that she feels she has no choice. She needs our support.’

  ‘Why are you so angry with Joel then? They’re jointly responsible for what’s happened.’

  Henry turned his back on Camilla and walked to the window. A volatile autumn evening lay beyond it. Sharp needles of rain whipped the glass suddenly. A violent outburst. Henry switched focus and saw the room in reflection. Camilla was still, watching the back of him, waiting for a response.

  ‘I don’t see the relationship working out,’ he began.

  ‘Why not?’

  Henry shrugged his shoulders and the air seeped out of him. ‘He isn’t good enough for her.’ In the room’s reflection, Camilla was reaching for her cup. ‘Anyway, she’s pregnant which means she’s going to need us. We don’t have the luxury of opting out.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Camilla persisted. ‘Why do you dislike Joel so intensely? It’s out of character.’

  Henry exhaled again, long and loud. Breathing was an effort tonight. He had a tight pain in his chest but he couldn’t talk about that either. ‘I’m out of energy on the subject. I’m taking the dog out for half an hour to tire him out for the night. It’ll help clear my head.’

  ‘We haven’t finished on this subject.’

  ‘I need some air, Camilla.’

  ‘Weather’s awful out there.’

  ‘I’m past caring.’

  Henry turned away from the window and headed for the door. Camilla was watching him closely.

  ‘You don’t look well.’

  ‘Don’t I?’ Henry said, passing Camilla without looking at her.

  ‘Clean him up in the wet room before he brings those muddy paws back inside the house.’

  ‘Got it,’ Henry muttered, dodging one of the cats, desperate to be alone. Outside the room, he closed the door and leaned against it and sealed his eyes until the vice loosened inside his ribcage and he could breathe freely again.

  ***

  Shadow was a young black Labrador with brown eyes, just eight months old. Dark as he was, he knew nothing of dark times, or blackmail, or of living under an oppressive cloud without the room to squirm. His world was wonderfully simple. Warm bed, toys, regular food and drink, trips out. Luckily, he was unaware that, come spring, his wedding tackle would be stripped away to abort the possibility of mini Shadows. In the meantime, the big cushion in his bed had become the object of Shadow’s adolescent affection. Camilla refused to be subjected to the sight, so she’d shoved his bed in the unused bathroom near the back door where he could slaver and do whatever young dogs did, in private. In the wet room. Aptly named!

  So as Henry followed him and his thrashing tail down the drive toward the gates, it was no surprise that Shadow’s spirits were not dampened in the least degree by the rain and wind. For that matter, things were so bad that the elements did nothing to affect Henry’s mood either. He was discovering, in fact, that his relief was growing the further away from the house he got, especially given that Joel was in it.

  For months, the threat had eased. Henry hadn’t heard from Vincent Solomon or from his deplorable sister. Annabel had been to Newcastle far more than Joel had been to Manchester, and Naomi had finished her second year at college and returned home for the summer. She’d never mentioned Dan Stone since Nathan’s death. Henry imagined that the relationship had fizzled out. Solomon hadn’t pursued her all summer, to Henry’s knowledge. During a few uneventful months that had some pleasant moments, Henry had walked the puppy, played golf and reconnected – as much as anyone ever did – with Camilla, and dared to hope that life might return to normal again.

  Until the phone call that changed everything.

  The phone call from Valerie Stone, ringing Camilla, mother to mother, a desperate appeal for news and information about the only son she had left. A son who’d been arrested for murder, the murder of the son she’d already lost. And Camilla had no answers for her, no words of reassurance at all. And then Henry had realised that life could never be normal; that events were still unfolding in the background and that his peace was an illusion only.

  The fact that Naomi and Dan had effectively eloped could mean only one thing: Vincent Solomon had made his intentions clear to them as well as to him. So Dan and Naomi had been seeing each other in secret and had taken their plans to the point of marriage. And no one knew! No one except Annabel and Jimmy Solomon’s third child – the man in Annabel’s bed, which also meant that Naomi and Annabel had no idea who he was.

  It was a sickening mess which tangled him emotionally. A problem which had no solution. Watch and wait. Those
were Solomon’s torturous instructions. It was all Henry could do. And now suddenly this: Annabel pregnant, Dan in custody, Naomi in bits.

  And no word from Vincent Solomon. But it was only a matter of time.

  Henry fastened his coat to the top and pulled his hood over his head as Shadow led him out of the gates. Attracted by a nearby lamppost, the dog selected a right turn and Henry followed. Across the road was a parked car that Henry had never seen. His defences prickled. He scrutinised it as he passed by on the opposite pavement. It was a four-by-four, possibly black, hard to tell. No sign of life.

  Shadow pulled Henry along, pausing only to spray anything vertical by cocking his leg. The wind, loaded with vicious raindrops, fired into Henry from behind. A few seconds passed before a car engine roared to life. Henry looked over his left shoulder and caught the four-by-four screeching into the night away from him. He could make out nothing of the registration plate.

  And the knot in Henry’s chest refastened and pulled tighter.

  ***

  Annabel came round and didn’t know where she was or what was happening. The window was blank with night. Joel was next to her, snoozing gently. Her mouth was dry and was generating a foul taste. She sat up and found her phone beside her bed, then examined four senseless numbers. 19:37.

  It took time to establish that it was evening and not morning. Time to realise that she was home and not away. Time to recall why she felt so bad and why she needed to get out of the house and start a life with Joel away from here.