by Gian Bordin
He does, with a slight tremble in his voice. I take back the cell phone and return to the desk.
Ignoring the boxes, containing jewelry I guess, I work slowly through the folders. The top few are indeed ownership papers for the house, the two cars, insurance policies and so on. A re-sealable plastic bag contains birth certificates and the children’s passports. In a blue plastic sleeve I find what I’ve hoped for all along — the copies of the closing papers for the purchase and sale of the Sanvino shares. Slowly sweat pearls start forming on Garland’s high forehead. I set the papers aside. The last file I search contains information about a numbered bank account with a Liechtenstein bank, as well as a copy of the approved application form for opening the UBS account of I-Consolidated. I add this to the blue plastic sleeve. There in front of me is all the evidence to clear my name.
I right the desk chair that fell over when I brought down Garland and sit in it. The gun is in my lap. "And now we wait for DI Willis."
After a few minutes, I hear the siren of an ambulance, the sound coming rapidly closer. It stops abruptly, the sudden silence eerie. Tires crunching gravel announce the approach of a vehicle, its headlights briefly shining through the office windows. Half a minute later, there is a knock at the door, and Mrs. Garland shows in two ambulance officer. They take a quick look at the broken window and shattered glass. I point to Carlo, partially hidden by the open door, and say: "The man with a bullet wound is behind you. His name is Carlo Walker."
They help Carlo into the other chair. While one of them removes the soaked handkerchief, the other opens a medical bag. They cut away the right sleeve of Carlo’s sweater and shirt, and disinfect the wound.
"This needs a few stitches. We’ll have to take him to A and E."
"Fine, but make sure he doesn’t abscond. He may well try. It may be better to wait for the police to arrive and arrange it with them."
Both shrug their shoulders. They must have experienced stranger scenes.
One of them goes to Garland, whose face still shows traces of blood. "May I?" he asks, looking uncertainly from him to me and back.
"I head butted him," I comment, "so he may have a broken nose."
The two officers look at each other, shaking their heads. One then carefully probes around the nose. "No, it isn’t broken, just badly contused. It will swell up a bit. Take some painkillers if you’re in too much pain," he says to Garland.
Mrs. Garland has remained in the door. I look at her and say: "Mrs. Garland, it may be a good idea to get your husband two Paracetamols or something like that."
She nods and disappears.
One of the ambulance officers points to the window and asks: "What happened here?"
"A brick to create a distraction," I answer.
"But nobody got through these pointed shards."
"No. Look officer, I realize you’re curious. You stumbled into a rather bizarre situation, but it’s really a matter for the police and until then, the less said the better."
"Sure," he replies with a grin and helps his colleague finish cleaning up Carlo and pack away their things. Then he turns to me. "Miss, since neither of these two are in serious danger, we’ll now return to base. The police can bring Mr. Walker to A and E."
"That sounds fine with me."
After they have left, Carlo gets up.
"Carlo, sit down and wait for the arrival of the police."
He hesitates for a moment, then lowers himself carefully back onto the chair. One of his endearing smiles makes his haggard face look handsome. "Ceci, you’re not serious. You won’t hand me over to the police. Not your brother. You’re just trying to frighten me."
"Carlo, I gave you a chance to get out of this." No smile on my face this time. "You promised to go to mother. I paid for your ticket. You checked in, even went through security, only to play a dirty trick on me, and then tried to squeeze Garland. Now it’s too late to get out. I can’t help you anymore even if I wanted and I’m not sure I want to. You’ll have to front up to the police and face the consequences. I guess that if you tell them truthfully your small part in this affair, you might get away with a suspended sentence."
The smile on his face freezes as I speak. He gets up once more. So do I, placing the secured gun on the chair. His eyes dart to the door. He makes a sudden run for it, but I’m prepared. My right foot shoots forward. He trips, falls forward, and crashes into the door, moaning pitifully, clutching his injured arm. I help him up and lead him back to his chair. No word is spoken.
From the corner of my vision I see Garland make a sudden dash for the desk. I’m on top of him as he leans over its surface to grab the gun, scattering some of the contents of the safe. I slam his head down. He screams like a wounded animal, any resistance gone. I twist his right arm up his back, pull him off the desk and lead him back to the chair. He slumps into it, moaning.
A few seconds later, Mrs. Garland rushes into the room with a glass of water and pills, as well as a wet face cloth. When she sees his nose, blood dripping again from it, she puts the glass and pills on the desk and goes to him.
"Oh, Fred, what happened? You’re bleeding again." Then she turns angrily on me. "Why did you have to hurt him again? Wasn’t once enough?"
"He tried to get the gun, and I had no choice but to prevent him."
"Oh, my poor man. Let me wipe the blood off." She carefully wipes away the blood without touching the nose. "Fred, what is this all about? … Tell me."
He doesn’t answer.
"Please, Fred, I need to know."
He pushes the hand wiping his forehead away. "Marjorie, just leave. Stay with the girls."
She turns to me. "Will you tell me, Miss Walker?"
I hesitate for a second. She has the right to know. "Mr. Garland fed the police false information that led to my arrest on suspicion of defrauding one of the firm’s clients of two million pounds. In truth, it was Mr. Garland who engineered the fraud. The evidence for this is on the desk. DI Willis, who is investigating the fraud, should be here any minute now."
"All lies, Marjorie," Garland exclaims, "don’t believe a word this woman says. She assaulted me. When Willis arrives, they will take her into custody."
Her eyes turn back to me, pleading.
"I’m sorry, Mrs. Garland, that I have to cause such grief to you and your two daughters. Why don’t you now give your husband the painkillers and then it may be best, as your husband says, that you go back to your daughters."
"Oh, Fred," she murmurs, casting him a worried glance. Two tears run down her cheeks. Then she rushes out of the office. I hand Garland the water and the pills. He takes them without thanking.
I rearrange the papers scattered on the desk and pick up the tape recorder that slid onto the carpet. I turn it off.
Sunday, 8:05 p.m.
The sound of police sirens is rapidly coming closer. Suddenly they stop, creating a pregnant silence. A short time later, headlights again briefly cast a flicker into the office. Through the shattered window I see two cars pull up in front of the house. Willis and Somes emerge from the first, two policemen from the second. I place the secured gun on a corner of the desk, closest to the door, again turn on the tape recorder, and then retreat against the bookshelves. Within a few seconds the office door opens, and Willis enters, followed by Somes and one of the other officers.
Willis briefly lets his eyes roam over the scene, while Garland jumps up from his seat and shouts: "Detective Inspector, arrest this woman for breaking and entering and assaulting me."
Willis raises his eyebrows, casts a quick look at the gun sitting on the desk, and then his gaze turns on me. Somes pulls handcuffs from a back pocket and approaches me, her intentions obvious.
"Miss Walker, I place you under arrest for —" she announces pompously
"Detective Inspector," I interrupt her, "call off your bloodhound, unless you want me to teach her another lesson in karate."
A fleeting smile crosses his face. "OK Somes, cool it. Miss Walker wou
ld hardly have called me here if she doesn’t intend to cooperate."
Somes stops short — her reptile eyes even colder than usual — holding the handcuffs in her left hand, still ready to jump me, should I make a wrong move.
In the meantime, Garland resumes shouting: "I demand that she be arrested. Can’t you see she broke the window, broke my nose, threatened to shoot me unless I opened the safe and then rifled through its content?"
"Let’s talk calmly about what happened here, Mr. Garland. Once I have the facts, I will take appropriate measures."
"Can’t you see she’s —" Garland launches into another tirade, but Willis holds up his hand, saying: "Please, Mr. Garland, let us do our job. First, who was shot and by whom?"
This time, Garland keeps his mouth shut.
"My brother over there, Carlo Walker, was shot in the arm by Mr. Garland," I say. "I don’t know whether it was intentional or by accident."
Garland grabs the opportunity to shout again: "She smashed the window. I shot in self-defense."
"And how come you had a gun in your hand before I smashed the window?" I question. Turning back to Willis, I continue: "It may be useful if you first heard from me what happened here tonight and then hear Mr. Garland’s side and question him."
The latter interjects again: "It’s all lies what she is going to say —"
"Please, Mr. Garland, we will get to the bottom of this. You will get your turn," Willis interrupts sternly. "Go ahead, Miss Walker."
"My brother is a drug addict. He was invited by my ex-boyfriend, Gary Buxton, to a luncheon where Buxton introduced him to Mr. Garland. A few days later Mr. Garland approached my brother, offering him one thousand pounds for a small service, namely sign a document, the application for opening the account for I-Consolidated with UBS. His signature is similar to mine. I happened to learn about that last Friday when Carlo mentioned that Mr. Garland owed him more money. Since I didn’t want my brother to get into trouble with the police, I arranged for him to fly to Milan to be with his mother. Unfortunately, he didn’t take that flight and I immediately suspected that he was going to approach Mr. Garland and demand money —"
"Why didn’t you immediately report this to me?"
"First, I figured that Somes would be able to convince you that my brother is the accomplice that so far has eluded her search, and second, I saw this as an opportunity to trap Mr. Garland. So today at five I began spying on his house. My brother came around five thirty, but then went away again, I presume because Mr. Garland refused to let him in."
Willis cut in: "Is this correct, Mr. Garland? You refused to open the gate?"
"Yes, it’s all lies what she says. I don’t know this fellow. I’ve never seen him."
Again, Willis only raises his eyebrows.
I continue: "I shadowed my brother, because I knew he would not give up that easily. He returned to the house an hour later. For some reason the gate was open and he entered —"
Again Garland interjects: "They scaled the fence. The security alarm went off three times. This is private property. They trespassed."
"Didn’t the security firm investigate?" Willis questions.
"They did, but claimed it was only falling branches."
"May I continue?" I ask.
Willis nods again. "Yes."
"So, when my brother entered, I followed in too, but away from the driveway and went to the only lit windows of the downstairs. I saw Mr. Garland sitting at his desk and speaking on the phone. I placed a microphone in the partially open window and got my tape recorder going. Mrs. Garland ushered my brother into the office shortly afterward. The conversation between the two is all on the tape. At one point, my brother threatened to tell me, his sister, about his role. I saw Mr. Garland open the left-hand top drawer of his desk and remove this gun here. I was afraid that he was going to shoot Carlo, so I grabbed a brick from the side of the path and threw it into the window to create a distraction, and then entered via the other open window. I knocked my brother off his feet — that’s when Mr. Garland fired the gun — and then brought Mr. Garland down, taking the gun from him."
"You see, she admits assaulting me when I was only defending myself," shouts Garland.
I ignore his interjection and go on: "I then forced Mr. Garland to open his safe and place all its contents on the table. Among his papers I found two folders, these two, which prove that Mr. Garland purchased the Sanvino shares and then sold them two days later. You see, he is obsessive about keeping complete records on any financial transactions and I was counting on this. I also found a copy of the application form to open the I-Consolidated bank account, as well as information about a numbered bank account with Bank Schwabe of Liechtenstein."
"These are not my documents," Garland shouts again. "She put them there to incriminate me. That’s why she forced me to open the safe."
"I’m certain yours are the only fingerprints on them," I reply, removing my skin-colored nylon gloves with deliberate slowness, noticing Willis surprised look. "So, Detective Inspector, here is all the evidence, including the tape recording. In fact, our conversation is till being recorded. I’ve done the job for you. Mr. Garland is yours."
Another smile flits across Willis’ face. "So it seems. We’ll investigate this thoroughly, I can assure you. In the meantime, all of you will have to accompany us to the Snow Hill Police Station, where formal statements will be taken and recorded." Turning to me, he says: "You reported that you called the ambulance service. I presume they have already looked after Mr. Walker’s injury."
"Yes. They left fifteen minutes before you arrived, but they said that he needs to be taken to A and E to stitch up the wound."
"Police Sergeant Henley will take him there and then bring him to Snow Hill too."
He orders Somes and Henley to place the folders I indicated, the tape recorder, and the gun, and the spent cartridge they find next to the desk, into plastic bags. I pocket the microphone, and then follow Somes out to the car. In the entrance lobby I hear Willis talk to Mrs. Garland. Her eyes are dry. She hugs her husband briefly when Henley leads him out.
Henley and the other officer take Carlo away, while Garland and I share the backseat of Willis’ car. Somes sits in front. The only words spoken are by Garland.
"I insist on the presence of my lawyer for any interrogation."
Sunday, 10:25 p.m.
At the station, Willis first listens to the first half of my tape recording up to the point where the window is shattered. Then he interviews me again. I repeat more or less word for word what I said in Garland’s office. It is recorded. While we wait for it to be typed up for me to sign, he confirms that he will apply for all charges against me to be withdrawn. He adds that it is unlikely I will be charged with breaking and entry.
"Sir, why did you send Somes to my place Saturday afternoon?" I question after that.
"How do you know she was there? You never showed up?"
"I saw the black sedan with the unmistakable unpainted patch outside my building, and then called my land line number. Somes couldn’t resist and answered."
"So you were Anne Fields and decided to give us the slip. I could have you charged for that."
"Sir, the bail conditions do not prohibit me from spending the night at a friend’s. So I didn’t violate them."
"No, strictly speaking, you are in the clear. I forgot to mention that you were to spend each night at your place," he replied with a somewhat embarrassed chuckle.
"And the reason you wanted to take me into custody again is because Gary Buxton claimed that my brother was the accomplice Somes was looking for."
"How do you know?"
"Because my brother told me that it was Buxton who gave him Garland’s home address, and Buxton promised me that if I didn’t retract my statement about him confirming the Sanvino rumor he would pay me back. Sir, you may find it revealing to discover from where Gary Buxton got the thirty to forty thousand pounds to finance the Porsche he started driving recently."
>
"Is this a guess or do you have evidence?"
"I would call it a compelling inference."
He chuckles again and then writes a reminder in his notebook.
"There was though a second reason for arresting you again. Buxton also told Somes that you have a Swiss passport, hence you could abscond at any time. Why didn’t you tell me that?"
"Because you never asked."
"Right," he replies, pressing out a short laugh, "one learns new things to watch out for every day. One final question. What was that remark about teaching Somes another lesson in Karate?"
"Do I have to answer this? The matter is closed for me."
"Only off the record."
I briefly recount what happened in my apartment. He seems amused.
It takes almost two hours for Carlo to come from the hospital and give his statement. Since he heard my description of the events and, in particular, my statement repeating his own to Garland about the gate having been open, I’m pretty sure he stuck to the same line. That small lie doesn’t disturb my conscience. Willis does not charge him with any offense, but warns that a charge of forging a document might ensue. He orders him to remain in London under my supervision until further notice.
Henley brings me my British passport, as well as Fausto’s empty tape recorder, and makes me sign a form. He then drives Carlo and me back to my apartment. I’ll have to call the hotel tomorrow about no longer needing the room and asking them to hold my sports bag until I pick it up in a day or two.
Back in my own quarters, I first give Carlo something to eat and two aspirins. Once he is safely in bed, I call Fausto, although it is past midnight by that time.
The first thing he says is: "Cecilia, you really are something else. I watched you from behind the bushes until the police arrived, just in case you might need my help. Then I left and took away any evidence of our entry. I continued watching from beyond the fence."
I tell him what happened with the police. "And here are some important pieces of information for you. The bank where Garland has stashed away the two million pounds is Bank Schwabe in Liechtenstein. You got that? Schwabe. I now leave it to you and Signor Carvaggio to retrieve that money from them. I’m certain you have your ways for doing that. Just don’t scare Garland’s girls. They are innocent."
