by Olly Jarvis
Ella looked up to see Jay wipe the tears from his eyes and head towards the bedroom. He came back with a sheet and carefully covered the body. Then he went over to Lizzie and wrapped his arms around her.
Ella shook her head in slow motion. ‘Why did we come here?’
‘He wanted to help,’ Broady implored her, taking hold of her hand. ‘He didn’t give us away.’ He squeezed it tighter. ‘A real hero.’
Her mouth formed into a grimace. ‘Bastards.’
‘You said it,’ Broady replied. ‘Don’t let this be for nothing.’
Ella felt her heart breaking all over again.
The sun was rising and found its way between the skyscrapers, casting incongruous shafts of light on the windows.
Motionless and without a sound, they remained huddled around the sofa. Suddenly, there was a noise – they all jumped.
Music – Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.
It was coming from Jim.
They all stared at the figure under the sheet.
‘What is it?’ said Jay.
Broady went over and gently moved back the cover. ‘Sounds like a ring tone.’ He went through the coat pockets and pulled out a phone. ‘No Caller ID,’ he said, covering the body up again with his free hand.
Jay was the only one who showed any interest. ‘Are you going to answer it?’
Broady held out the handset in Ella’s direction.
With a listless arm she took the phone and swiped across.
‘Hello?’ said a woman. ‘Hello, who’s this?’
Ella recognised the voice. She pressed speaker. ‘You’re too late.’
A pause. ‘Ella, is that you?’
‘What do you want?’ she replied, her voice devoid of emotion.
‘It’s Agent Harris, thank God you’re OK. Stay where you are, we’ll be with you in fifteen minutes.’ Another pause. ‘Stay on the phone, you’re going to be OK.’
Ella didn’t reply at first. Then, looking at Broady as she spoke. ‘Meet us in Trafalgar Square in two hours, there’s something we need to do first.’
Broady nodded at the misdirect.
‘No, Ella, it’s too dangerous, stay—’
She pressed end call.
Still in shock, they took the lift down and exited the building. Somehow the default tactic of keeping moving drove them on. The morning light glistened off the glass-covered buildings.
Ella walked to the front of a queue of taxis and tapped on the passenger window.
The driver closed his newspaper and wound it down. ‘Where to, love?’
‘My husband’s a barrister, he forgot this,’ she said, holding up Jim’s phone. ‘He’s waiting outside the Old Bailey – needs it for work.’
The driver eyed the phone with disdain. ‘I ain’t a delivery service – could lose me licence.’
She took a wad of cash out so that he could see it. ‘Two hundred?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘What if he ain’t there?’
‘Then keep it,’ she said, putting the notes in the same hand as the phone and reaching across the inside of the cab.
He tutted. ‘Go on then.’ He took the money and the handset and put them in his shirt pocket.
They watched him leave then jumped in the cab behind. ‘Victoria Station,’ Ella said.
Chapter Seventy-Four
The train journey from Victoria to Gatwick passed without a word. Mother and daughter huddled up. Ella took comfort from the sensation of her daughter leaning against her shoulder as she tried to make sense of events. But even that and the rhythm of the train speeding along the tracks failed to soothe her nerves. She had no confidence that they would make it onto the flight without being pulled but Ella was now more determined than ever.
They got off the train and walked into the airport complex.
‘Look out for earpieces,’ Broady whispered as they walked through the departures hall.
The check-in queue was short; mainly lone travellers, businesspeople in suits, a few in traditional Islamic dress. One man, standing a few passengers in front, wearing a beige salwar kameez, gazed around aimlessly then smiled at Broady.
Ella noticed it. Was he just being friendly? It was impossible to tell.
‘Passports?’ asked the young lady behind the desk with a scarf around her neck, the knot pushed off to one side. She only half looked up as Ella plonked them down.
‘Any baggage to check-in?’
‘Hand luggage only,’ came Ella’s flat reply.
The woman gave Ella a second glance.
Conscious that her face was drawn and her eyes puffed up, Ella forced a smile which seemed to placate the woman. She handed over the boarding cards. ‘Have a nice flight.’
Stifling a sigh of relief, Ella took the cards and they followed the sign for departures. One more hurdle. They joined the queue for the security check.
Broady had taken off his bandage to lessen the chances of his injury being felt in the body search. Ella had made sure his t-shirt was tucked in and his top pulled down. ‘I’ll go last,’ he murmured to the others.
Ella grabbed a tray and began emptying her pockets whilst her companions kept their heads down. Ella went through without a problem and waited for her tray to arrive. Lizzie and Jay did the same, slowly putting belts and shoes back while watching Broady.
A man holding an electric wand waved him to one side. ‘Need to do a quick search.’
Without a flicker of emotion, Broady took a couple of paces towards him and held out his arms.
The security guy ran his hands along Broady’s limbs and finished with a quick brush of his chest. ‘That’s fine, you can go.’
They were clear. Without celebration they went into the main hall and found a table outside Pret. Beginning to refocus on the task ahead, Ella handed Lizzie a wad of cash. ‘Change this for Turkish Lira,’ she said as the tannoy announced the last call for a flight.
‘I’ll grab some coffees,’ said Broady, giving Ella an encouraging smile.
‘Use cash,’ she said, handing him some notes. ‘Get some food as well.’ She sat down next to Jay. ‘Check if the visas have come through.’
‘I daren’t go online,’ he replied. ‘Could give away our position.’
Ella tutted to herself. ‘Yeah, sorry, I’m still not with it.’
‘That’s understandable,’ Jay replied, placing a hand on hers. He shifted in his seat. ‘Do you think they found us because of me going on that Costa Wi-Fi?’
‘What do you mean?’ Ella replied, then seeing the anxiety on his face, said, ‘Jim? I doubt it.’ She put her free hand on his. ‘I know all about blaming yourself for other people’s actions.’
Jay opened his mouth to say something else but at that moment Broady came back with the coffees and he closed it again.
Lizzie joined them with the currency and announced, ‘Gate’s open.’
Ella took a breath. ‘We won’t know if the visas have come through until we land.’ She looked at each of them in turn. ‘Are we all sure we want to do this?’
There was no dissent.
‘Right,’ she said, picking up her coffee. ‘Let’s do it.’
They fell in behind the flow of travellers making their way towards the gates then chose a row of metal seats behind the main waiting area at their gate and scanned the other passengers for familiar faces. No one seemed to be paying them any attention; they were more interested in a toddler with a dummy in his mouth running up and down between the seats. Only the child was laughing.
Ella felt detached from the world. If only those people knew what they had been through, why they were making this journey.
A woman by the gate announced over the tannoy that the flight was ready for boarding.
They waited while the other passengers rushed to form a queue.
‘Good morning, Ella.’
The voice came from behind them and made them all jump.
It was Harris with a couple of men in suits and some security people.
Ella’s heart sank. There was nowhere to run. She noticed that her captor looked different, same razor-sharp creases in her trouser suit but dark circles around the eyes. She looked like someone under pressure.
Harris’ expression betrayed a glimmer of satisfaction. ‘I’m not as stupid as you think.’
The laughing child came running over and grabbed Harris’ leg, then, after looking up and seeing Harris’ frosty glare, thought better of it and waddled off to the sound of her mother gently chastising her.
‘Bring them,’ Harris barked at the security people, who proceeded to surround the fugitives, each taking one by the upper arm and pulling them off their seats.
Broady yanked his arm away. ‘OK, OK. Where are we going to run?’
Harris nodded at the underling, who took it as a signal not to pursue physical contact. His colleagues released their grips as they marched them back towards the concourse. Travellers stopped as they passed, staring at the spectacle.
Ella tried to come up with a strategy, reminding herself she’d come through a thousand times in court when all had seemed lost. They were too close to fail now.
One of the suits entered a code on the door which led onto a corridor with interview rooms down one side.
Harris tapped a window with a wire mesh inside the glass. ‘Put Blake in there.’
Ella suddenly felt clear on what to do. ‘Don’t tell them anything,’ she shouted over her shoulder as she was shoved into the room, empty but for a small table and two chairs bolted to the floor. It was soundproof; she stood at the glass watching Harris’ mouth shouting orders before she entered the room accompanied by one of the men. His chiselled features and muscular build gave Ella the impression he was military. He stood in front of the door with his arms folded and legs slightly apart.
‘Sit down,’ Harris said in a gruff voice, then used both hands to tuck her hair behind her ears, as if readying herself for a fight.
Ella watched her for a moment, then complied.
Harris couldn’t keep still. Her eyes bored into her captive. ‘Why Istanbul?’
Ella stared back at her. ‘Am I under arrest?’
Harris slammed a hand down on the table. ‘Just answer the question.’
‘You do know about the Police and Criminal Evidence Act?’ Ella replied, trying to remain cool. ‘An interview must be tape recorded.’ She gave a theatrical look around the room. ‘I don’t see any equipment?’
‘We’re not police,’ said Harris.
‘Makes no difference,’ Ella replied, sounding matter of fact. ‘All agencies are bound by the Act.’ Seeing Harris’ frustration, Ella continued. ‘And I want to see my lawyer.’
‘Where were you going?’
‘No comment.’
A contemptuous scoff from Harris. ‘Think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?’
Ella stared straight ahead. ‘I’m not answering any questions until you to tell me the grounds for detention.’
‘How about stupidity?’ Harris replied. ‘For getting James Hodges killed.’
The unexpected comment felt like a bullet shooting through her. Ella shot Harris a look. She wanted to scream. She had to fight to control her emotions. ‘I know what you’re doing.’
And what’s that?’ Harris replied.
Ella stared her down. ‘You’re trying to mess with my head, soften me up.’
Harris’ tone became more assuaging. ‘Why does this inquiry matter so much to you?’
Exhausted by the emotional roller-coaster of the last few days, Ella let her head drop.
Harris took a step closer. ‘Why risk everything just to know?’
Ella let out a cynical laugh. She decided to just say what was in her heart, which in that moment seemed clear to her. ‘Because I can never know the answer to the question that really matters to me.’
Harris took a seat. ‘Which is?’
Ella looked up at her interviewer. A weary blink. ‘Why did my husband kill himself?’ Her eyes welled up.
Harris didn’t react at first. She turned to the guard. ‘Wait outside.’
His eyebrows raised. ‘Ma’am?’
‘Just do it.’
He hovered for a moment, then left the room, keeping a close eye through the glass.
‘Look, Ella, why don’t you tell us what you know.’ Her tone had changed. ‘Just come out of the field until this is over.’ She took a pack of tissues out of her pocket and offered one.
Ella refused the offer and studied the woman sitting opposite. She could see the anxiety behind the façade. ‘You have no power to stop this inquiry.’
‘Your husband’s death…’ said Harris, tentatively.
Ella came back with a jolt.
‘I can help. He had secrets,’ Harris said softly.
Ella felt her heart begin to race. ‘What are you talking about?’
Harris fiddled with her hands. ‘He had an addiction.’
She could feel the blood rushing to her face. ‘Addiction?’
Harris tilted her head sympathetically to one side. ‘Yes, to opioids.’
Ella’s mouth fell open. ‘What, you mean heroin?’
‘Yeah, and pills. There’s a lot of addicts out there, hiding it from family for years, holding down jobs.’
‘I do know that,’ Ella snapped. ‘I am a barrister.’ She stopped. ‘But that’s impossible. I would’ve known.’ She stood up. She went to the door and turned the handle – locked. She stood still, staring at the door. ‘How do you know?’
Harris got up. ‘It was by chance, investigating something else.’ She came over and rested a hand on Ella’s shoulder.
She brushed it off and turned around. ‘Why are you telling me this?’
Harris held her gaze. ‘We both need answers.’
Ella didn’t respond, only moved back to the table and flopped back onto the chair. She ran a hand across the top of her head. ‘I knew he dabbled at Cambridge,’ she mumbled.
Harris stood next to her. ‘It always leads to depression, over time.’
Ella grunted an acknowledgement. ‘I would’ve known…’ she repeated, but she knew it didn’t sound convincing.
‘Take a few minutes,’ said Harris, sounding conciliatory. ‘I’ll be back.’
Ella didn’t even notice her leave the room. She lost track of time, obsessing over Harris’ disclosure. She’d always known there was something… just not that. It all made sense now. How could she not have seen the signs? A criminal lawyer. Her own husband, the father of her child. She slapped her forehead. The horrible sordid truth had been staring her in the face and she’d never seen it – or maybe hadn’t wanted to. Then she swung the other way. Was this just an interrogation technique? Was it even true about Tom?
Chapter Seventy-Five
Harris came back in but before she had a chance to sit down, she was distracted by someone being led past the window. Ella was just able to catch sight of one of the men in suits pushing someone along. She only caught the back of the man’s head. There was something familiar about him.
Harris went back out and shouted something after them before coming back in.
‘Who was that?’ Ella asked.
‘No one,’ Harris replied, sounding agitated. ‘Now, where were we?’
It was still niggling. Ella got up and moved towards the door, then stopped. ‘Was that Simon Carter?’
Harris’ neck went red.
‘It was, wasn’t it?’
No reply.
‘Why’ve you got him?’
Ella could see Harris was avoiding eye-contact. Ella scratched her head, wheels turning. ‘Has he been helping you?’
‘No,’ Harris replied emphatically.
Ella tried to read her face. ‘You found out about Tom from Simon? He knew?’
Harris got up and went for the door handle.
Ella pulled her arm away. ‘I need to know.’
Finally, a resigned dip of the head. ‘They’d both been junkies since Cambridge.’
> ‘Tom and Simon?’ Ella’s thoughts were whirring. It all made sense. That was the bond between them.
‘Carter was being blackmailed by Kline, threatening to reveal his drug addiction. He was easy to manipulate.’
Ella felt a tide of anger rising up. ‘He was leaking information about the inquiry?’ She already knew the answer. ‘I want to see him.’
‘That won’t be possible,’ Harris replied, her voice cold again. ‘Unless of course,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘You tell me what you know about Genesis.’
Ella sat back in her chair and slapped her forehead. ‘You nearly got me.’ She laughed. ‘You wanted me to catch a glimpse of Carter. I’ve just been played. You’ll have to do better than that.’
Harris’ face twitched. ‘It’s up to you,’ she replied in an obviously over-zealous attempt at sounding nonchalant.
But Ella needed answers. She was going to have to give Harris something. ‘OK,’ she said finally. ‘It’s not about power.’
Harris straightened up. ‘But what about the comets?’
A wry smile crept across Ella’s face. ‘I thought you didn’t know anything?’
Harris leaned forward. ‘We know Kline believes they have an effect on some people.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Sometimes even before they’re born.’ She fell silent for a moment. ‘We don’t know how it’s connected to what he’s planning.’
Ella sniffed, then wiped her nose. ‘Matthew was working on the same theory – Genesis.’
Harris was hanging on her every word.
‘Matthew was trying to understand everything, the cycles of nature.’
Harris fidgeted in her seat, clearly impatient to hear more.
Ella sighed. ‘He was trying to find the one place and point in time that unites us all.’
Harris’ brow furrowed. ‘And do you know what that is?’
Ella sat back. ‘No.’
Harris stared at her captive. ‘It’s in Istanbul?’
‘Maybe,’ said Ella.
Harris was a picture of confusion. ‘What do you mean by unites us all?’
Ella shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
