by Pip Drysdale
‘And of course they deleted his hard drive – they would have panicked when Oliver died, and wanted to delete any incriminating evidence. And Justin knew where Tess lived, how close we were, and that I’d been there recently; I told him. That explains the break-in this morning. Also, like you said, that’s all clearly illegal, right?’ I said, nodding to the documents in front of her. ‘All that money flowing in?’ I swallowed hard. ‘When do you think you’ll be able to arrest them?’
‘Not yet,’ Holland said slowly.
As she said those words my pulse sped up further. Because that was a real problem. I’d asked Justin too many questions: Machado, Alyssa, Lucamore. A flash of Tess’s flat. What would happen to me if he told Machado; if they thought I was on the verge of piecing things together? If they thought I might find these documents and show the police?
‘Well, when?’ I asked.
‘Investigations like these take a while to pull together,’ she said. ‘But we have Oliver’s killer – that’s a win, Charlie. It doesn’t always go that way. It’s been a good day.’ She gave me a small smile.
‘They broke into a crime scene. And into Tess’s flat this morning.’ I said, trying my best to appear rational. ‘You should have seen the place. I’m scared.’
‘We don’t know for sure that it was Justin or this man Machado,’ she replied, her tone measured. But I could tell from the expression in her eye that she knew I was right. It’s just that she had a procedural manual she knew she had to follow. ‘We will investigate.’
‘And what about me in the meantime? If they think I know any of this, do you really think they’ll just leave me alone?’
‘Has anyone ever threatened you? If they do, come straight to us.’
‘No,’ I said. But something inside me knew I was in danger. My mind scrambled for a solution; I needed something, anything, to spur her into action. ‘But what about what Brooke said? About her sister. Have you looked at the timeline?’ I said, pointing to the list of transactions beneath her finger.
‘The first payment to Machado happened in November. When did you say Alyssa lost her money?’ Like I said before, I already knew the answer to this question. I’d seen the email in Brooke’s inbox when it all went down.
She reached for her notepad, flipped through a few pages and then looked up at me: ‘November’.
‘Exactly. Doesn’t that seem like a big bloody coincidence to you? Brooke might be telling the truth about what Oliver and Justin did to Alyssa. This might be why they took her money. And if they did something like that, shouldn’t we do something about it?’
Now, please don’t get me wrong, I did care about what happened to Alyssa, really I did, but I cared even more about what might happen to me. Or to Tess. If Oliver was scared of them, we should be too.
‘We can’t just rush in and arrest people, Charlie. We need something solid first.’
‘Then let me give that to you.’
‘How are you going to do that?’
I reached for the paper in front of her, the one with the yellow highlights, and took a picture.
‘Charlie, what are you doing?’ she asked.
Then I sent it to Justin with the text: I think I’ve found what you’re looking for.
I did it before I’d really thought it through. And then we both stared at my phone as I thought Shit.
A moment later my phone beeped.
Brilliant, Charlie, thanks. I need those urgently. Can you swing by my flat or should I come to you? 8?
My pulse sped up. I handed my phone to DCI Holland. ‘See? And now I really will be in danger if you don’t help me. Now he knows I’ve seen this.’
From the look on her face I could tell this was not in her manual.
She looked down at the screen. ‘That was so irresponsible!’ she said, glaring at me. She looked at her watch, exhaled loudly and rushed to the door. ‘Wait here.’
She banged the door shut behind her and, a moment later, in came another text from Justin: ???
Fuck. What had I done?
5.03 pm
When DCI Holland first asked me to wear a wire, I thought I was going to be sick. I had visions of her taping something to my chest, something that could be found if Justin thought to look, something that could get me hurt.
But it’s not like that in real life.
Holland was holding a device that looked just like the USB stick I’d copied all of Oliver’s information onto. Except this one was black, not silver. There were no red lights flashing. No wires. Nothing to give me away. According to Holland, even if Justin suspected something and plugged it into a computer, it would just come up as an empty flash drive that required formatting.
‘I’m going to put it in like this,’ she said, pushing the device into the front pocket of my handbag. ‘You don’t need to do anything except try not to bump it. The mic is facing up so we’ll hear everything.’
I nodded and swallowed hard as she handed my bag to me. It felt hot now. Heavy. Scary.
‘We’ll be right outside the door.’ The moment we hear anything off we’ll come in. Just remember, you’re going over there to give him what he wants and have a chat. But you don’t have to do this.’
The truth was I wanted to do it. I needed to do it. I needed to know the truth about what had happened.
So that was my job.
Under the guise of dropping off the documents Justin had been looking for, I had to get him to incriminate himself. It didn’t really matter what I got on him – admitting he’d broken into our flat, or Tess’s flat, looking for those documents; that he’d wiped Oliver’s hard drive clean; or ideally, something to do with Lucamore and Machado – just something DCI Holland could call him about. Something that put him in the cross hairs. I’d be safe if they knew they were being watched and it would be a breakthrough in the investigation. So it was worth the risk. But even so, my hand was trembling when I followed Holland’s instructions to text him back to say: Great, see you then. I’ll come to your place.
That was strategic: DCI Holland said he was far more likely to speak freely in his own surroundings where he felt safe. There was likely to be less ambient noise there too. Then we constructed a loose script; a way for me to steer the conversation. And I got ready to play the most important role of my life.
8.02 pm
Justin buzzed me into his apartment building a split second after I rang the bell. I’d only been there once before and that was when Oliver and I had just started dating. I moved towards the elevator, pressed the button and waited. My stomach was a swarm of wasps.
Ping.
The doors slid open and I pressed ‘8’.
As I stared at my reflection in the mirrored walls, I reminded myself that I was there to strike a deal that would benefit us both. Justin was my friend.
The hallway leading to flat 817 was carpeted in a beige green swirl, no doubt to complement the avocado shade of the walls, which were lit by a series of small circular lights. The walls were covered in abstract art that fitted the colour scheme – in fact, they looked like they had been chosen entirely for colour not content.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Footsteps sounded from the other side of the apartment door and Justin’s voice called out: ‘Coming’. Then the gold handle moved, the door opened and there he was.
My pulse sped up.
He was wearing a light pink shirt with silver cufflinks, the top button had been undone and if he had been wearing a tie when he arrived home it was gone now. His trousers were a dark beige and matched the room beyond him. Yes, you notice everything when you’re scared.
‘Hi,’ I said, and he moved aside to let me pass. I could feel his eyes on me and then the sound of that heavy door shutting echoing through the room.
I took long, confident strides into the room. It was all beige, green and black, as if the same designer of the hallways had been at work here too. I remembered it from last time. And he hadn’t changed a thing. It was still sparse. Empty. A
single orchid sat on the big marble kitchen island. A brass fruit bowl full of oranges. A large free-standing metal lamp I wasn’t sure I’d be able to lift. Those were the only potential weapons in this room if he tried to hurt me.
I took a seat on one of the sofas, resting my bag beside me.
As he poured a glass of wine for me and a Scotch for himself, I could see the twinkling lights of London through the floor to ceiling windows. I took care with my posture – I needed to seem perfectly at ease – as Justin came towards me, his strawberry blond hair flopping over one light blue eye as he handed me a glass. He looked at my bag.
‘Thanks.’ I smiled, taking a sip. Then I put my glass down on the black coffee table, zipped open my bag and pulled out the orange envelope.
‘Here it all is,’ I said, laying the envelope beside me.
‘That’s great,’ Justin said, reaching out his hand in a well-give-it-to-me-then gesture. But there was something in his eyes. Something questioning. Like he was trying to figure out if I knew what it was I was handing over. The relevance. Was I a threat?
I stuck to script, picked up the envelope and handed it to him. He opened it and looked inside.
‘Thanks, Charlie,’ he said. ‘This is so helpful.’
I nodded and he sat down on the chair opposite me, pulling out the documents and leafing through them. The sound of flicking pages filled the room.
Beat.
It was my line. I knew what it was. But I had stage fright: dry mouth, tight throat, wild heart. But I needed to say it. Say it, Charlie.
‘I know what those are,’ I said.
His eyes moved up. Quickly. Snake-like. Now they were on mine.
‘Yes, they’re to do with a company we have interests in,’ he said. ‘Oliver should never have taken this information out of the office. But you know Ollie, he always was a bit of a cowboy.’
I swallowed and nodded.
‘Justin, I know it’s not normal to pay those sorts of sums to a man like Machado. I know he was blackmailing you.’ Smile. ‘He still is.’
A small frown. Barely discernible. If I hadn’t known what was most likely taking place in his mind I might have missed it.
‘Oh god, Charlie, do we have to go through all this nonsense again? I already told you the other day—’ His voice took on that authoritative tone it did sometimes. But I cut him off anyway.
‘I know, Justin.’
A silence hung in the room. We’d both stopped breathing.
‘You know what, precisely?’
I let out a big sigh. Like I was about to say something he should already have guessed. ‘Oliver told me a lot more than you think he did. So you really don’t need to lie to me. Like I know it was you who broke into our place and deleted all his files. I also know why. That’s not exactly the only damning evidence out there, is it?’ I said, nodding to the envelope in his hands.
‘I did no such thing!’ he said, his voice rising an octave with indignation.
‘Oh really?’ I laughed contemptuously like he was a silly, silly boy. I knew that would rile him.
‘Justin, I know it was you because I know what needed deleting.’ I stopped laughing, my face serious. ‘Of course, you could have just asked me to do it. It’s not like I have anything to be gained by anyone finding out what Ollie was doing. I do want an inheritance, you know. And I would have done it properly.’ Quick. Confident. I needed to act like I had every base covered.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I wouldn’t have missed anything.’ Shrug.
Beat.
He was watching me. Wary.
‘I didn’t miss anything.’
There it was. Our confession.
I raised my eyebrows in a you-are-dead-wrong expression. ‘Maybe not on that computer.’
‘Are there other copies somewhere? Is that what you’re saying?’
I paused for dramatic effect here, giving a little smile. ‘I don’t know, is that what I’m saying?’ There’s a confidence that comes with knowing the police are right there, that they have your back. It’ll make you cocky.
He exhaled loudly. ‘It is vital that I know this.’ He spoke through his teeth like I was trying his patience. ‘Are. There. Copies?’
I raised my eyebrows. Took my time. I needed to annoy him so he was distracted and off his guard. So he said things he’d regret. ‘Yes, but that doesn’t need to be a problem for you. Nobody is going to find them – unless I hand them over.’
A silence clung to the air. I glanced again at my bag. At the recorder.
‘Do you want something from me?’ he asked, taking a sip of his Scotch.
‘That I do.’
He was watching me with a newfound respect and if I hadn’t known better I might have been flattered. ‘Well, spit it out. What is it?’
‘Money.’
‘How much.’
‘A lot.’
‘How much, Charlie?’ he snapped.
‘Well, you need to understand that I know more than about Machado. I also know about Alyssa. About what happened there. And that drives the price up.’
The air was dead with silence and he was watching me closely now. This had deviated far, far away from what he had expected.
‘Oliver told me,’ I continued, answering his unspoken question. ‘Pretty low, Justin. Not the sort of thing you’d want coming out, is it?’
His gaze snapped back to mine. ‘How much do you want, Charlie?
Surely that was a confession?
I let a moment pass.
‘Five hundred thousand.’
His eyebrows raised. ‘Wow. Starting high.’ His expression was almost impressed.
‘Oh please, Justin, I’ve seen what’s in that envelope. I know you can afford it.’
Beat.
‘Okay,’ he replied.
I glanced at my open bag: were they hearing all this?
‘And then another one hundred thousand every year after that.’
His eyes grew wide. ‘Jesus, have you been getting tips from Machado?’
There it was: strike two. I could leave now. I had what I came for. But I was good at this. And I knew DCI Holland was out there listening. I knew I was safe. And I was so close to getting something that might truly screw him over. So instead of leaving right then, I took a chance. ‘Can I ask you something Justin?’
‘Do I have a choice?’ he replied, downing his Scotch.
I gave a small smile. ‘Why is he blackmailing you?’
His eyes narrowed. He put his glass down on the coffee table. ‘I thought you said Oliver told you?’
Shit.
‘I said he told me more than you realised,’ I said. Calm. ‘I said I knew what was in that envelope. And … I may have done some extra snooping.’ I smiled and crinkled my nose. ‘But that doesn’t mean I know everything. I think I can guess though. But explain to me how these things play out in the real world,’ I said, crossing my legs and leaning forward slightly.
He watched me, cautious. I could almost see the two sides of him fighting it out behind his eyes: the macho know-it-all who wanted to share how clever he was and his instinct for self-preservation.
‘How do I know you won’t take the money and blow the whistle anyway?’
Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom.
‘Because I’m not sure I’d be safe if I did that,’ I said. Truth.
‘That’s a fair assessment, Charlie. Best not to forget it.’ His eyes bored into me but his tone was matter-of-fact. ‘All you need to know is Machado was a rookie error but he’s here to stay, unfortunately. Still, it’s not like he hasn’t been useful.’
‘Yes, but I’m curious, what actually happened to cause that error?’ I asked. ‘It’s not like you to fuck up, Justin.’
I watched his eyes flash. There we go – his ego has been ignited.
‘Simple. We tried to extort money from him and it went wrong.’ He drummed his fingers on the side of his chair. ‘Honestly, it was a stupid mistake but it was right
at the beginning of our operation. I would never make a mistake like that now.’
‘If you were extorting money from him, why are you the one doing the paying?’ I asked. And I was surprised by how willing he was to tell me; that right there should have been my cue to run.
‘Well, in simple terms,’ he started, dumbing things down for me as per usual. ‘The deal was that if he paid us what we asked for into our offshore business account, we’d provide fabricated financials to Hornsby Equity and they’d invest in his shoddy company with no issues, the same way we have for many other happy customers since then. But bloody Machado recorded us, didn’t he?’ He gave a small smile and my blood sped up. ‘You need to be careful who you trust in this world.’
I thought of the recording device in my bag. What if Justin searched it? If he figured out what was going on? How long would it take the police to get in here?
‘So the fucker blackmailed us,’ Justin continued. ‘That’s why we’ve been paying him. You see, we aren’t bad people, Charlie. But it was right at the beginning and we needed to get the money from somewhere to pay Machado off, otherwise he would have blown the whistle and we would have lost everything. Neither of us would have come back from that.’
‘So you made up an investment scheme and Alyssa just gave you her money? Why her? And how could she be so stupid?’ I asked. My tone was intentionally acidic and it made me cringe to hear my voice say the words. But I needed him to believe I was entirely on his side for him to open up.
‘She wasn’t stupid,’ he said. It was the first nice thing I’d ever heard him say about her. It caught me off guard. Maybe he did have some remorse. ‘We were just smarter. And she trusted Oliver. He put the deal to her.’ And there he was: the Justin I so loathed. ‘We were desperate and we knew her family had the money to invest. So Oliver gave her fabricated financials and convinced her it was a sure thing. Anyone would have fallen for it. But that was our business. There’s always collateral damage with these things. And it’s not like we had a choice. We had a deadline and we didn’t have enough in the pot back then.’
