The One You Love (Emma Holden suspense mystery trilogy)

by Paul Pilkington

  ‘I don’t know. I really don’t.’

  ‘But you know what this means,’ said Emma, realisation suddenly dawning. ‘Whoever has Dan knows us all. It’s probably someone close to us, Lizzy.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’ Lizzy looked shocked at the suggestion.

  ‘Well, they must do, otherwise how would they know about you, to include you in the letter? If it was someone that just knew Dan, they probably wouldn’t know anything about you.’

  ‘Okay,’ Lizzy said, not sounding as convinced. ‘But if it is someone who knows all three of us, then that narrows it down quite a lot. We’d be talking about someone really close, Em. Why would one of our friends kidnap Dan and attack Richard?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Emma said, trying to think.

  ‘And why would they pretend to be Dan and say I was having an affair with him?’

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘Em,’ Lizzy said. ‘There could be another explanation.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Maybe the person who sent the letters, and the person who threatened Eric, was Dan after all.’

  ***

  Will replaced the receiver and moved across to Stuart, kneeling next to his head. ‘Don’t worry, mate, you’re going to be okay. The ambulance is on its way.’

  He felt completely useless, and just had to hope that the ambulance would arrive quickly. He thought back to how his dad had just walked out. How could he have done that?

  Then there was a knock on the outside door.

  Will raised himself up and poked his head out of the kitchen, looking down the corridor at the door.

  Again a knock – maybe his dad had come back, having had a change of heart. He took a step out and moved closer.

  ‘Stuart Harris?’ an unfamiliar voice bellowed.

  Will froze to the spot.

  ‘Stuart Harris – this is the police. We’d like a word.’

  Hell, Will thought. What would it look like if the police found him in the flat with Stuart dying? Would they think he’d forced him to take those tablets, in some sort of attempt to murder him?

  He ducked into the room opposite, which turned out to be Stuart’s bedroom. He closed the door. His heart was pounding and his breath shallow. He just stood in the middle of the room, listening for the police.

  But no one else spoke.

  Had they gone?

  He waited for a few more minutes, taking a look around the room. Stuart had a computer set up in the corner, and Will was surprised to find it on – currently the screensaver was running. Intrigued as to what Stuart had been typing just before his death, he slid into the chair and hit the space bar.

  ‘What the hell…’ he mouthed as the sickening image appeared on the screen.

  51

  The photo had been taken up close. Dan’s head was thrust back, his eyes bulging as if they were about to explode out from his head, and a gag visibly tight around his mouth – Will could make out marks on either side of Dan’s mouth where the gag had rubbed his skin raw. He was tied to a chair – you could just make out its back, and what looked like rope around Dan’s waist.

  ‘My God.’

  Will’s first reaction was to switch the computer off, to get rid of the image. Then he wondered what else the computer might contain. But as he was about to grasp the mouse he suddenly thought of the police. They would be taking this computer as evidence. It was best if he left it alone. He rose from the chair, unable to keep his eyes from the image of Dan. He had been in trouble, all this time.

  And it had been Stuart all along – just as he had first suspected. If only he had mustered the courage to tell Emma the truth at the outset.

  He prayed it wasn’t too late to save Dan.

  That’s when he began to search each room of the flat, just in case. But Dan wasn’t there.

  He moved into the kitchen, breathless and panicky. Stuart was still out on the floor.

  ‘What the hell have you done?’ Will shouted. ‘What have you done?’

  He looked towards the phone. The ambulance should be arriving soon. Then he remembered about the police. They might not have gone yet. And the sooner they were told about this, the better chance Dan might have.

  ‘I should have left you to die,’ Will said, before rushing out of the room. But even as he said those words, heading for the door, he knew he didn’t mean them. Whatever Stuart Harris had done, Will didn’t want any more blood on his hands. He was glad he had called the ambulance. At least then Stuart would face justice.

  He would also be able to tell the police where Dan was – and if he was still alive.

  How would he ever forgive himself if Dan were already dead? How would he face Emma?

  Will caught sight of the car, parked a hundred or so metres away from the flats. There were two suited men standing next to the vehicle, deep in discussion.

  ‘Hey,’ he shouted, trying to attract their attention.

  Gasnier and Davies turned around.

  ‘Are you the police?’ Will asked, screeching to a stop in front of them and shielding his eyes from the sun.

  ‘Who are you?’ Gasnier asked, refusing to answer the original question.

  ‘Will…Will Holden.’

  ‘Emma Holden’s brother?’ Gasnier was unable to hide his surprise.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m DI Gasnier. This is my colleague, DS Davies.’

  ‘Look,’ Will said, ‘you’ve got to come up to the flat. I’ve found something – about Dan.’

  ‘Tell us here,’ Gasnier demanded in a soft voice. ‘We’re not going anywhere until you explain everything.’

  ‘There’s an image on Stuart Harris’s computer.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘It’s a photograph of Dan – tied up. He’s in trouble. Stuart must have taken him.’

  ‘Do you know where Stuart Harris is?’

  ‘He’s in the flat. It looks like he tried to commit suicide.’

  ‘But he’s alive?’

  ‘I think so,’ Will said.

  Just then they heard the sirens and an ambulance swerved in from the main road.

  ‘You called them?’ Gasnier said, looking back over his shoulder.

  Will nodded.

  ‘Let’s take a look at this then,’ Gasnier said to Davies. ‘And you, Mr Holden, can come with us – I’ve got some questions for you.’

  ***

  ‘How long ago did you find him?’ the paramedic asked Will, as he knelt beside Stuart, carrying out various checks.

  ‘About twenty minutes ago,’ Will said, aware that Gasnier was looming over his shoulder, listening to every word.

  ‘But you don’t know how long he’s been out?’ the paramedic continued. ‘How long ago it was that he took the tablets?’

  ‘No,’ Will said. ‘I found him like this.’

  ‘If you do know, it would be a really big help,’ the paramedic pressed.

  ‘I don’t,’ Will protested. ‘I’m telling the truth.’

  He might have just been paranoid but it looked as if the guy didn’t believe him – the way he just turned away without further question.

  ‘We need to talk,’ Gasnier said, almost whispering in his ear.

  Will nodded, turning to face the detective.

  ‘You said you called the ambulance twenty minutes ago,’ Gasnier said, as they stepped out into the corridor.

  Will nodded. He knew exactly where this was going. He noticed that the other officer had closed the door to Stuart’s bedroom, and was obviously looking on his computer.

  ‘And you remained in the flat after that time?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then you would have heard us knocking on the door ten or so minutes ago.’

  Will remained silent. For all his good intentions, he was scared of what he had set in motion by going to the police.

  ‘You must have heard us knocking, Will,’ Gasnier pressed.

  ‘I didn’t,’ Will said, searching for a plausible explanation
. ‘I was just trying to make sure that Stuart was okay. I can’t even remember what happened – I didn’t hear the knocking.’

  ‘And you’re sure of that?’ Gasnier said. ‘You didn’t hear us shouting “police”?’ He made imaginary quotation marks that seemed to ridicule Will’s ridiculous claim.

  ‘No,’ Will said. ‘Please believe me.’

  ‘You see, the thing is, Will,’ Gasnier said, smiling ruefully, ‘I just don’t believe you.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Because of this,’ Gasnier said, gesturing at his jacket and trousers.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Will said, looking at Gasnier’s clothes for some explanation.

  ‘What car am I driving?’ Gasnier said.

  ‘I… I don’t know,’ Will admitted, now not understanding where the conversation was heading.

  ‘A BMW,’ Gasnier said, answering his own question. ‘An unmarked BMW. DS Davies and I aren’t in uniform. Yet you ran over to us, pretty damn certain that we were the police. How did you know that, Will? And please don’t tell me that it’s because we look like police officers – I don’t want to hear that.’

  ‘I panicked,’ Will admitted. ‘When I heard you at the door, I just panicked. I thought that it would just look bad – that you might think I had something to do with it.’

  ‘Why did you come to Stuart’s apartment, Will?’ Gasnier asked.

  ‘I came to… threaten him,’ Will said. ‘Look, I know this sounds really bad.’ He gripped the back of his neck with both hands. ‘And that’s why I panicked. But I’d already called the ambulance by that stage. I wasn’t going to leave him.’

  ‘Why were you going to threaten him?’

  ‘I wanted him to stay away from Emma. He really hurt her when he just walked out a few years ago, and I didn’t want him to do it again. I didn’t want him taking advantage of her when she was so upset about Dan.’

  ‘You didn’t think he was responsible for Dan’s disappearance?’

  ‘No. But I know now that he was.’

  Gasnier waited a few seconds in quiet contemplation.

  ‘If there’s something you’re not telling me,’ he said at last, ‘something that could help us locate Dan, then you’re better off telling me now.’

  Just then the bedroom door opened, saving Will from having to answer.

  ‘You’d better come and take a look at this,’ DS Davies said, beckoning Gasnier. Will made to follow him into the bedroom.

  ‘Not you,’ Gasnier said, placing a palm across his chest. ‘You wait there, and pray that Stuart Harris pulls through.’

  Will watched as the door closed. He turned around just as the paramedics carried Stuart past on a stretcher.

  ‘Will he be okay?’ Will said, following them out of the flat and onto the landing.

  ‘Touch and go,’ the paramedic answered, ‘but we’ll do our best.’

  Will watched helplessly, praying that this affair hadn’t claimed yet another victim.

  52

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  Miranda stood at the edge of the study, waiting for Edward to turn around. But he didn’t – he just continued to stare out of the window. He’d been holed up in the study for over half an hour now, and had returned home without even announcing his arrival. Miranda was getting worried; maybe he was having second thoughts about the baby.

  ‘Is it something to do with Will?’ she ventured.

  ‘You were listening in to my conversation,’ Edward said sadly.

  ‘I… I didn’t mean to,’ Miranda said, edging into the room. ‘I was coming to see if you were all right and I heard you talking, that’s all.’

  Edward turned around. Miranda was shocked at how sad and old he looked. She thought that maybe he had been crying, although she’d never seen him cry before.

  ‘What did you hear?’ he asked.

  ‘Err, nothing really.’

  ‘But you knew I was talking to Will.’

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t hear any details.’

  ‘Couldn’t hear any details,’ he corrected. ‘You tried to listen but couldn’t hear.’

  ‘No,’ she denied. ‘I wasn’t listening in on you, Edward. What is this, anyway? All this secrecy?’

  ‘You don’t want to know.’

  ‘Edward, if this is going to work then we’ve got to trust each other. Love is about trust. You do love me, don’t you?’

  ‘I can’t take this right now. I might go for a walk.’

  ‘But you’ve only just got back in,’ she said, her voice softening into a more conciliatory tone. ‘Can’t we sit down and have a chat? You’ve been acting strange for a few weeks now – I’ve noticed it. Maybe if you talked things through, then it might help.’

  Edward just looked at her. ‘How do you feel about the baby,’ he said, gesturing towards Miranda’s midriff.

  ‘Feel? I don’t understand. I’m happy about it, if that’s what you mean. I hope you are too.’

  ‘I didn’t mean like that. I mean, what are your feelings towards your child.’

  ‘It’s your child too,’ Miranda countered.

  ‘I know. What I’m trying to say is, even though the baby hasn’t even been born yet, even though you’ve never set eyes on the baby, you’d probably do anything for it, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I hope so,’ Miranda said. ‘But I don’t understand, Edward, what’s this all about? Are you nervous about being a father again? I could understand if you were.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been a father,’ Edward replied, sitting down on the edge of his desk.

  ‘But you are a good father,’ Miranda said, moving over to put an arm around him. ‘I know you’ve had a few problems with Emma and Will, mostly because of me, but things seem to be improving now.’

  ‘Don’t you dare blame yourself,’ Edward said, pulling away. ‘It started long before I met you. When their mother died, when my children needed me the most, I wasn’t there for them. All I cared about was myself.’

  ‘But you were upset too.’

  ‘I was selfish. And I haven’t changed.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re selfish.’

  Edward turned to look at her. ‘You know, Miranda, I don’t think you know me at all.’

  ***

  It had been worth the journey – ten minutes of frantic motorcycling across the capital, dodging London buses and weaving through lanes of traffic. But that was why he loved this job – the adrenalin rush, the chase for the picture. He imagined hunters got the same buzz. They were both stalking prey, of sorts – one with a gun, the other with a telephoto lens. And in many ways, the lens could be just as damaging.

  ‘Hi,’ he said into the mobile phone. ‘I’ve got some fantastic shots here.’

  The first shot had been of Will talking to the police – fortunately he had parked at some distance, away from the unmarked car.

  Then he got a few great ones of Stuart Harris being carried into the ambulance, including a fantastic close up of his face.

  The guy looked in a really bad way.

  And finally, when he thought things couldn’t get any better, Will Holden appeared at the front of the flats, kneeling down with his head in his hands.

  It was pure soap opera.

  ‘I don’t know what’s going on with all this,’ he said, ‘but Emma Holden’s brother was at Stuart’s flat… I’ve got shots of that, yes. Then the police arrived, followed by an ambulance… no idea… but from what I could see, it looked pretty serious to me.’

  He looked over at the flats. Will was still sitting there, head in hands. If he’d thought about it for too long, he could have felt sorry for him. But there was no time for such emotion, with such money at stake.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, turning his attention away from Will, ‘should be able to get them developed quick sharp. More than time enough for the morning papers – they’re going to love this.’

  53

  ‘So what are we going to do now?’ Lizzy said to Emma, as
they sat in her flat. ‘You tempted to go and look for Eric again?’

  ‘I don’t think it would do any good,’ Emma replied. ‘The state he was in, I don’t think we’d learn anything new.’

  ‘Probably right. I wonder whether the police have found out anything yet about who sent the package?’

  ‘They must have found out something by now.’ Spurred into action, Emma pulled out her mobile and searched for the number Gasnier had given her those days ago.

  Lizzy nodded her agreement.

  The call was answered on the second ring.

  ‘Hello?’ Gasnier’s tone was clipped and impatient.

  ‘Hi, it’s Emma Holden here. I was wondering if you’d found out anything about who…’

  ‘Now’s not a good time,’ he interrupted. ‘We can talk later.’

  ‘So you’ve found something?’

  ‘Not now,’ he said, sounding distracted. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  And with that the line went dead.

  ‘What did he say?’ Lizzy asked.

  ‘That it wasn’t a good time.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Lizzy replied, pulling a face.

  ‘I’ve no idea. But it sounds like something has happened. You could tell – he was distracted by something.’

  ‘I suppose they’ll tell us when they decide to,’ Lizzy mused. ‘But that just leaves us hanging around in the dark.’

  ‘I feel completely helpless,’ Emma admitted, stretching back and looking up at the ceiling. ‘And I don’t like it.’

  Then her mobile rang.

  ‘Maybe it’s the right time now,’ Lizzy smiled, as Emma reached for the phone.

  But the number wasn’t Gasnier’s.

  ‘Hi, is that Emma?’

  ‘Speaking.’

  ‘It’s Sister Donahue here from the hospital. I’ve got some news about Richard – he’s woken up.’

  ***

  ‘Try not to get your hopes up,’ Lizzy said, as they stood in the lift taking them to the ward where Richard was being treated.