by Mark Sennen
‘Kelly was an accident. Believe me the last thing I wanted was for her to die. That was Forester’s fault for soiling her. Mitchell got to him as well. Used him to shoot the videos after I had gone. Drugs, sex, poor Kelly couldn’t resist and in the end she turned out to be dirty too, they all were. They made their choices before I ever met them.’ Harrison’s eyes rolled upwards to the ceiling and he placed his hands together as if in prayer. ‘Dear God I wished they hadn’t, but that is the way of things. Like I said, the world is decaying. My only wish is to find somebody like my girls. They were clean and I loved them and there was nothing dirty about my feelings. Lust is evil. I learnt that long ago, but it seems impossible to escape because there is so little left that is pure.’
He suddenly reached out across the sofa and grabbed a handful of Samantha’s hair, dragging her down onto the floor.
‘Mummy!’
Harrison pulled her across the room towards the door and she scampered along trying to keep up. Her eyes pleaded at Savage with desperation.
Savage made a final effort, levering the handle of the knife on one side of the tie and the blade on the other. She would either break the blade or make the cut. Harrison reached the hall now and he looked straight at Savage with a wide grin as he took her car keys from where she had dropped them. He put them in his pocket and opened the front door, dragging Samantha behind him like a sack of rubbish.
Snap!
The cable tie parted and Savage had her arms free. She flicked the knife upwards, slicing through the parcel tape, and jumped to her feet. Harrison stood at the front door and met her eyes again, but this time there was no grin. She leapt at Stefan, cutting the tie and the tape. Harrison ran out the door, Samantha screaming as he pulled her by the hair. Savage rushed after him. Through the front door and Harrison was halfway across the driveway. He saw Savage and let go of Samantha, sprinting down the drive and into the lane.
Savage reached Samantha and knelt, embracing her. At the same time she heard the sound of an engine start up and in the lane headlights beamed out into the night sky.
‘I’m OK, Mum.’
Stefan was at the door and Savage ran back to him.
‘999 and shut yourself in the house.’
She pushed past him and grabbed a single key from the bowl on the table. She rushed out of the house again, across to the garage and jumped in the little MG. Fumbling to get the key in the ignition and then the car was firing up with a roar. The car shot forward as she floored the accelerator, wheels spinning and spitting gravel.
The car skidded as she turned hard into the lane, the lights of Harrison’s car not far ahead. The heavy 4x4 struggled to get up to speed and its width meant the vehicle took up most of the road. Once it was moving it lurched along, Harrison fighting for control as he went faster; the MG was much more suited to the switchback run towards Plymouth and the main road. Harrison slammed right at a junction into a smaller lane, the Shogun crashing into the hedge, but ploughing back onto the road and hurtling onward. Savage flicked the handbrake as she took the turn, slid round and accelerated out of the corner. She was gaining by the second and Harrison increased his speed as they plunged down into a valley.
Fifty, sixty, seventy miles an hour on a road no wider than the car. Then Harrison reached the bottom of the hill where the road crossed a stream and Savage remembered the humpback. The first Harrison knew of the bridge was when the Shogun left the ground. It landed on two wheels, bounced back onto four and rolled again, crashing onto its side and flipping onto its roof. Two tons of upside down car screeched along the lane spinning in a circle before colliding with the corner of an old stone barn.
Savage braked hard to stop and jumped out of her car and ran across to the upside down 4x4. The roof had crumpled and the windscreen and side windows had shattered. Inside the airbag had exploded, but the white balloon hadn’t prevented the seat from deforming, crushing Harrison and trapping him against the steering wheel. He groaned and Savage crouched down to peer into the car, her heart pounding. Little sparks began to jump from the dash as some of the wiring shorted out and the plastic started to burn with a fierce, sooty flame. She thought she had better reach in and remove the ignition key to cut the electrics. She’d also need to phone for an ambulance and the fire brigade to cut Harrison out.
Savage put her arm in the window and groped for the keys. Her hand brushed against them and they jingled, ding-ding, ding-ding. The noise made her pause for a moment. Then she smelt it.
Petrol.
Petrol? The car was a diesel. She had noticed the letters TDI on the back and remembered the data Riley had obtained from the DVLC. She looked in again and now she saw a green plastic container on the upside down roof, a spread of liquid seeping into the headlining. What did Harrison want with a can of petrol?
Harrison’s eyes darted back and forth, manic and then she knew. And could see that he knew she knew. She left the keys where they hung and withdrew her arm.
‘You bastard!’
‘Please, help me,’ he said. ‘I only wanted someone to love, someone to love me. None of this is my fault.’
Harrison shuddered, his body quivering, and he appeared all of a sudden fragile, human even. Savage smelt something else now too, something strong enough to overpower the petrol odour. Urine. Harrison had pissed himself.
She looked again at the keys dangling in the ignition, they danced in motion, swinging back and forth like a little pendulum on a clock counting down the passage of time. Every second marked a moment that could not be lived again. Every second offered new possibilities. That was what life came down to in the end. Choices. Harrison had made his long ago. Now it was her turn.
She stood up straight and looked around. A house stood a little way down the road and a dog barked somewhere way off in the distance, but there was no sign of anyone coming to investigate. Savage turned and walked back to the MG, climbed in and closed the door. She sat still, trying to think. Her heart was beating fast, but she took slow, deliberate breaths and after a few seconds she felt calmer. Mind made up she reached for the key and started the engine. She reversed into a gateway and turned round, driving back up the hill. Then there was a sudden flare of light in the rear view mirror and an orange glow flooded the inside of her car. She never heard the explosion, only the roaring in her ears again, the volume subsiding until all that remained was the noise of the little car flying along the lane, its headlights slicing a path through the blackness towards home and Samantha and Jamie.
Epilogue
Two weeks later.
Rain. It never seemed to stop in Plymouth and right now the deluge came down as heavy as ever. The wind had returned with a vengeance too and the crowd of people waiting on the dockside struggled to hang onto their hats and umbrellas and their banners and flags. Everybody seemed in a good mood though, every last face painted with a wide smile. The weather might do its worst but nothing could dampen the high spirits.
Savage stood at the front of the crowd and she felt elated too. Jamie bounced up and down on her right, holding her hand in a clam-like grip and Samantha was to her left. For once she had ceased texting and put away her mobile. Savage noted with some pride she had even switched the damn thing off. Instead she fiddled with her hair, trying to keep it neat under her waterproof hood.
A shout went up from somebody on the dockside and all eyes turned to look down the estuary. Through the driving rain a huge grey shape was coming round the bend beyond the Torpoint ferries. The warship sounded a horn and Jamie jumped with fright and squealed with delight all at the same time.
‘Mummy, he’s here!’ He held Savage’s hand even tighter and she hoped he wouldn’t wet himself in all the excitement.
Now she could see the crew lining the deck, standing to attention in their crisp uniforms, as oblivious to the weather as the waiting crowd. The boat was slowing and Savage spotted a group of officers outside on the starboard bridge wing. She couldn’t see Pete yet, but he was there for sure.
/>
The vessel’s movement forward seemed almost imperceptible now as it stemmed the tide and ferry-glided sideways toward the dock. The ship had been gone nine months and sailed to the Falklands and then circumnavigated South America, returning via the Panama Canal. Tens of thousands of miles lay in its wake and yet the final few minutes seemed to be taking a lifetime.
Savage thought about the past month. It was two weeks since Harrison had died in the car crash and the investigation was winding down. Much work remained to do, of course, but the major part of the inquiry was over. Harrison’s parents had been taken to hospital and his mother had recovered sufficiently to be discharged. Because of the fury whipped up by the press the Chief Constable had decided the good people of Devon and Cornwall posed a real threat to her life and her safety could only be ensured by moving her to a secret location. The father remained in intensive care and in a terminal condition. In private the doctors told the Zebo team that he wouldn’t ever be leaving.
Donal had been charged with the murder of Everett Mitchell, although his brief was trying to get him off on an admission of manslaughter. Savage should have been pleased the law was being upheld, but the events at her home made her more sympathetic towards Donal. He had broken the law, true, and Hardin saw Donal as just another crime cleared up, another point on the score sheet. Somehow that didn’t wash with Savage. Few people would be worried about the death of Mitchell. Many more would be lining up to congratulate Donal for what he had done. Savage understood the sentiment. She had killed Harrison after all.
When the newspapers dredged up all the stuff about Harrison’s parents she had questioned her actions and her judgement. The father had served his time for the abuse of his son and the rape of the nanny, and on his release the couple had moved to London. Many years later they had returned to the West Country and settled in St Ives. Harrison knew nothing of this, but on his eighteenth birthday he had been given the cottage near Gara Bridge and a sum of money, as if that was reparation enough for his suffering. Harrison had been a disturbed young man, but somehow he had managed to control himself until the encounters with Mitchell and the return of his parents pushed him over the edge. The abused went on to abuse, it was a common story and a sad one.
So did that mean Harrison deserved to burn to death in the car? She didn’t know even now. But at night, when she closed her eyes to sleep and lay in bed thinking about the petrol can and Harrison’s plan to torch the house with her, Jamie and Stefan inside and to kidnap Samantha and do God knows what to her, she knew the choice had been right. Just like Donal had made the right choice for himself when he shot Mitchell.
Jamie tugged at her coat and brought her back to the present. He jumped up and down some more and pointed at the ship.
‘Look, it’s Daddy!’
Pete stood high on the bridge wing, a microphone to his lips as he issued instructions to guide the vessel the final few metres. He was too busy to wave, but he caught her eye and smiled. Savage squeezed Jamie’s hand.
‘Not long now,’ she said.
If you enjoyed Touch then you might like to know that the second book in the Charlotte Savage series will be published in 2012.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank everyone who helped me with this book, whether wittingly or unwittingly! Thanks to Sandy Stanton for the brilliant cover design and a big virtual kiss to Joanne Craig for email encouragement and support. Special thanks must go to my partner, Gitte, for allowing me time to see this through, to my daughters for putting up with a dad who is too often lost in his own head, and to my parents for unwavering confidence in my abilities in whatever area I choose to apply them.
There are two worthy organisations that appear in Touch and they would appreciate your interest and support:
Devon Air Ambulance
www.daat.org
Dartmoor Rescue Group
www.dartmoor-rescue.org
Please visit www.marksennen.com for information on the DI Charlotte Savage series.
