The One You Love (Emma Holden suspense mystery trilogy)

by Paul Pilkington

  ‘I can understand why you’re angry,’ said Guy, who had obviously been pre-warned by David Sherborn, ‘but just hear me out.’

  ‘You paid that man to follow me, take photographs and sell them to the newspapers,’ Emma said. ‘You exploited this whole situation, for money. How much did you get for those photographs?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Guy replied. ‘I didn’t receive a single penny for any of them.’

  ‘You expect me to believe that,’ Emma responded.

  ‘You can believe whatever you want to believe, Emma,’ Guy said, taking a more confrontational tone. ‘But the only money paid for those photographs went straight to David Sherborn – not to me.’

  ‘Then why? Why commission him to do it?’

  ‘You really don’t know much about the entertainment business, do you?’ Guy smiled wryly.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Emma said.

  ‘The movie business, Emma, is a fickle industry. In my career I’ve been involved in countless films – some successes, some failures. Often the films you think will really do well just don’t. Sometimes it works like that.’

  ‘I still don’t see what this has got to do with everything.’

  ‘What I’m trying to say, is that making a movie is a risky business. As an actress or an actor, being involved in a commercial flop is, how should I say it? Undesirable. But they can just move on, put it down to a bad decision on their part. For the investors though, it’s more serious: a lot more serious. They have the financial risk.’

  ‘I understand all that, but…’

  ‘As an investor,’ Guy interrupted, ‘they want to see their movie generate interest. And I don’t just mean interest when it opens to hopefully rave reviews. Often it’s too late by that stage. The big Hollywood studios trail their films up to a year in advance. The stars do the chat shows all around the world, generating interest in the movie well before the release date. The studios know what they’re doing – they throw a lot of money at generating this interest. They can. But people like us, making a movie on a shoestring budget, can’t afford to do even a quarter as much as that. We have to be more creative in how we generate interest in our movie. Now are you beginning to understand?’

  ‘It was all to publicise the movie,’ Emma stated. ‘To generate interest in the film, even before we had started shooting.’

  ‘Yes,’ Guy said. ‘That’s exactly it. And I must say, the strategy was more effective than we hoped for.’

  ‘We?’ queried Emma.

  ‘The investors, the director, producer, me,’ he expanded. ‘Everyone is very happy at the way things have gone.’

  Emma shook her head in disbelief. ‘You exploited us all. My fiancé might be dead, Stuart is dead, and all you could think about was getting column inches in a newspaper?’

  ‘Try to understand things from our perspective, Emma.’

  ‘You’re unbelievable.’

  ‘This is the life you’d better get used to. If you want all the rewards that come with being an actor, then you’ll have to accept that sacrifices have to be made.’

  ‘When you found out Stuart was dead, were you really sorry?’ Emma asked. ‘Or did you just see it as another headline?’

  ‘That’s not fair,’ said Guy, wagging a finger at her. ‘The last thing I wanted was for that to happen.’

  ‘You said he called you just before he died,’ Emma said. ‘Did he ask for help? Did you ignore him and let him kill himself?’

  ‘No,’ Guy said. ‘I told you that I didn’t know.’

  ‘And this morning, when you told me that you thought Stuart hadn’t taken Dan – is that just a way of keeping the story going? You make out that someone is still out there, needing to be caught, when all along Stuart did do it.’

  ‘I truly believe that Stuart did not take your fiancé.’

  ‘It suits your purpose,’ Emma said accusingly.

  ‘You’d better leave,’ Guy said, ‘before you say something that might jeopardise your big break.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Emma replied, understanding the threat. ‘I don’t want anything else to do with your film. I’ve got more important things to think about. C’mon,’ she said, turning to Will, who looked quite stunned. ‘Let’s go.’

  ***

  ‘You sure you did the right thing back there?’ Will asked, as they walked back towards the tube.

  ‘Yeah,’ Emma replied. ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘But you’ve wanted to be in a film ever since I can remember.’

  ‘I know. But I don’t regret what I just did. Sometimes you just have to do what you think is right, and to hell with the consequences.’

  Will smiled. ‘You know, Em,’ he said, putting an arm around her, ‘I really admire you. I wish I could be as brave.’

  ‘Hey, you’re here supporting me,’ Emma said. ‘You shouldn’t put yourself down all the time.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  Emma’s mobile rang just as they entered the tube station – the number was coming up as unrecognised. She doubled back away from the ticket machines and headed back outside, with Will in tow. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Em, it’s me, Richard.’ His voice was shaking with emotion.

  ‘Richard, what’s the matter?’ She glanced up at Will who looked concerned.

  ‘He called me,’ Richard said. ‘The man who took Dan called me.’

  Emma listened as Richard relayed the details. ‘Have you told the staff?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘The police are coming.’

  ‘Good. We’ll be right over.’

  ‘What’s up?’ said Will, the second the call had ended.

  ‘Richard said a man called him today, saying that he had taken Dan,’ Emma explained.

  ‘Hell,’ Will said, taking in the news. ‘Looks like Guy Roberts was right, and Stuart didn’t do it after all.’

  ‘Maybe Guy Roberts did it himself,’ Emma suggested.

  ‘You really think he could have done?’

  ‘Who knows,’ Emma said. ‘Maybe he engineered this whole situation just to get the publicity he wanted.’

  62

  Emma and Will watched through the glass as Gasnier and Davies questioned Richard. They’d been waiting there for five minutes now, having been told by the nurse not to disturb them. It was frustrating, not knowing what was going on.

  ‘You really think that the person who called Richard is responsible for all this?’ Will asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Emma admitted. ‘I’ll tell you after we speak with Richard.’

  As if on cue, there was movement in the room, and Gasnier swept out of the door, followed by Davies.

  ‘Emma,’ Gasnier said, flashing a smile, ‘good to see you.’

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you to call,’ Emma said, the words slipping out, sounding more accusing than she had intended.

  ‘I know,’ Gasnier acknowledged, his voice hinting at regret. ‘I was waiting until we knew something for definite, but I’m afraid, so far, we have no clue as to your fiancé’s whereabouts. There was nothing at Stuart’s flat, or on his computer, apart from what we had found already, of course.’

  ‘Don’t you think that’s strange?’ Emma asked.

  ‘Strange?’

  ‘That you haven’t found anything else linking Stuart with Dan, especially when the original evidence was just waiting there for someone to see.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be too quick to believe that someone else is responsible,’ Gasnier said, reading her mind. ‘Richard is still very confused at the moment, and he’s got more drugs running around his body than a junkie – the phone call might have been a dream.’

  ‘Or it could have been a prank,’ Davies chipped in.

  ‘That’s what you said about the other letter,’ Emma countered.

  ‘Yes, and it was from Stuart,’ Gasnier said. ‘I still believe that Stuart Harris was responsible. Look Emma, I know you want to believe that someone else has Dan – it increases the likelihood that he’s still alive, after a
ll. But I doubt it’s the case. Talk to Richard, and make your own mind up as to whether he really knows what he is talking about.’

  ‘I have an idea of who might be responsible,’ Emma said.

  Gasnier looked only vaguely interested. ‘Go on.’

  Emma explained to them about Guy Roberts, how he had paid the photographer to follow her, and also how his relationship with Stuart had gone back several years.

  ‘We’ll talk with him,’ Gasnier promised. ‘But I very much doubt he has anything to do with it.’

  Emma nodded – it was the best she could have got from this stubborn man.

  ‘Before you talk with Richard,’ Gasnier said, ‘have a look at these.’

  Emma examined the photographs that Gasnier presented, one by one. Each one showed Stuart and the same girl – kissing, holding hands across a table, his arm around her.

  ‘Where did you find these?’ Emma asked.

  ‘Hidden in Stuart’s flat,’ Gasnier replied. ‘Do you recognise the girl?’

  ‘No,’ Emma said, unable to take her eyes off the images. ‘Why did you show me these? Do you think they’re relevant?’

  ‘Not really,’ Gasnier said. ‘We just wanted to be sure.’

  ‘Someone took these without them knowing, didn’t they?’ Emma asked, looking up at Gasnier.

  ‘Looks like it. Do you think they’re recent?’

  ‘No,’ Emma said with certainty. ‘He’s wearing the gold watch I gave him as a present. When he left me, he left the watch too.’

  ‘So what you’re saying is, these photos were taken when you two were still together?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  Now it all made sense. He had left her for another woman.

  ‘But you don’t know who might have taken these photographs?’ Gasnier enquired.

  ‘No,’ Emma replied. ‘Unless…’

  ‘Go on,’ Gasnier encouraged.

  ‘Unless it was Stephen Myers.’

  ***

  ‘The police don’t believe me,’ Richard said, lolling his head off and onto the pillow. ‘They looked at me like I was delusional. You know, they even suggested I dreamt the telephone conversation. Can you believe that?’

  He laughed bitterly.

  ‘Gasnier doesn’t seem to give away much,’ Emma said. ‘He might believe you more than he’s letting on.’

  ‘He thought I was crazy. Maybe I am. Just before the police arrived I fell asleep, and dreamt about the attack. But Dan was the one attacking me – he just kept screaming something, bawling right into my face. I can’t remember what. I didn’t tell the police about it. I would have just confirmed what they were already thinking.’

  ‘It was just a dream,’ said Emma soothingly.

  ‘I wish this was all a dream,’ Richard replied. ‘I wish I would just wake up and it would all have been one bad dream.’

  ‘So do I.’

  ‘Don’t take any notice of me,’ Richard said, noticing her pained expression. ‘Things will be okay.’

  Emma reached out and held his hand. ‘We’ve all got to stick together. Right, Will?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, of course,’ Will said, seeming somewhat distracted. ‘Stick together.’

  ‘I didn’t imagine it, Emma,’ Richard said. ‘The guy did call me. He said he had done it. I think he’s out there – you should be careful.’

  ***

  ‘You okay?’ Emma asked Will as he walked back over. She had been waiting at the entrance to the hospital while Will spoke to someone on his mobile, just out of hearing distance.

  ‘Yeah, fine,’ Will replied, slipping the phone back into his jeans pocket.

  ‘It’s just that you seemed a little subdued in the hospital.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ he reiterated. ‘I just can’t help thinking about what Richard said. If someone is still out there, then maybe we are all in danger.’

  Emma’s phone rang. ‘Hello?’ she said.

  ‘Emma, it’s Sarah here. Sarah Forester – I’m performing with Lizzy in the musical. We met a few weeks ago.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Emma asked, automatically thinking the worst.

  ‘It’s probably nothing,’ Sarah replied. ‘But the show is due to start in less than half an hour and Lizzy hasn’t turned up yet. We’ve called her mobile and home number but there’s no answer. I just wondered whether she was with you.’

  63

  ‘You’re really worried aren’t you?’ Will said, catching his breath as they ran along the pavement towards Lizzy’s apartment.

  ‘Something’s happened,’ Emma replied, dodging an elderly couple and picking up the pace. ‘Lizzy wouldn’t just disappear like that.’

  They reached the apartments, sprinted up the stairs and got to Lizzy’s door. As Emma banged on the door and struggled for the keys it all seemed horribly familiar.

  ‘Lizzy?’ she shouted as they burst into the flat. ‘Are you okay?’

  They moved around the flat together, room by room.

  The place was deserted.

  ‘Something’s happened,’ Emma said, pacing around the living room. ‘I know it.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’ Will said, looking at his feet.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Then Emma spotted the open book on top of the television. She moved over and picked it up.

  ‘What is it?’ Will said.

  ‘Stephen Myers’ journal,’ Emma replied, looking in morbid fascination at Stephen's black scrawl. ‘Lizzy told me she was going to throw it away.’

  ‘Looks like she’s been reading it,’ Will said, moving up to her shoulder.

  ‘It does,’ Emma agreed.

  She read the open page, in which Stephen was rambling in his usual style, talking about how much he loved Emma, how much he looked forward to being with her. It was terrifying and sad at the same time.

  ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to read that,’ Will advised.

  ‘You’re right,’ she said.

  She went to close the book, and that’s when the photograph fell out – the photograph she had picked off Stephen’s bedroom wall, proving that Stephen had been to London. She bent down and picked it up, looking at her standing in the street outside Lizzy’s apartment, with the rows of shops in the background.

  Suddenly realisation dawned.

  ‘You okay?’ Will said, as Emma moved quickly towards the front door.

  ‘Follow me.’ She headed for the stairs.

  They emerged onto the street.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Will, as he followed her down the road.

  ‘Look,’ she said, stopping and pointing across the road. ‘That shop there – the coffee shop – it only opened a year ago. It used to be an electrical store. We went there once when our fuse box blew out.’

  ‘So,’ Will said, ‘is that important?’

  ‘Look at the photograph,’ Emma instructed, thrusting the photo into his face and pointing. ‘Look at the background. I’m standing in front of the row of shops, just across the road from here.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Will, staring intently at the photo. ‘What am I looking for?’

  ‘The store in the background. Look at what it is.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s the coffee shop. The one across the road.’

  ‘Stephen died years ago,’ Emma said. ‘But that coffee shop only opened last year – it means that this photograph must have been taken after Stephen Myers died.’

  ***

  ‘Where are you going?’ Miranda asked, as she stood at the doorway, watching Edward loading up the car.

  ‘I just need to do something,’ Edward said.

  ‘But it’s getting late,’ Miranda replied, pulling her dressing gown tighter around her body as a passer-by sneaked a surprised glance. ‘Can’t it wait until the morning?’

  ‘It can’t wait.’ Edward reached across the driver’s side and fiddled with something in the car.

  ‘What’s the matter? You’re worrying me, Edward.’

/>   ‘It’s nothing. There’s no need to worry.’

  ‘But if it’s nothing, why can’t it wait until morning?’

  ‘It just can’t,’ he stated.

  ‘Don’t go,’ Miranda said, moving out onto the driveway in her bare feet. Small, sharp stones dug into her skin, but she ignored the pain. ‘Please don’t go like this, without any explanation. I worry about you.’

  Edward turned and moved towards her, placing a hand around each shoulder. ‘You know I love you?’ He looked deep into her eyes. ‘I’d never want to do anything to hurt you.’

  ‘You’re not leaving me, are you?’ Miranda asked. ‘If you are, I’d rather you just admit it now.’

  ‘I’m not leaving you,’ he replied. ‘I’ve let people down in the past, but I’m trying to change.’

  ‘You’ve never let me down,’ she said, embracing him.

  Edward held her for a few seconds, taking in her perfume, but this was only wasting time and making things harder.

  ‘I’d better go.’ He kissed her on the cheek before pulling away. ‘I’ll be back in the morning.’

  ‘You’re staying overnight? But where are you going to stay?’

  Edward got into the car and closed the door. He started up the engine, not answering her.

  ‘Edward!’ she shouted, knocking on the car window. ‘Have you got your angina spray?’

  Edward nodded, glancing in the rear view mirror. ‘Don’t worry about me,’ he said through the glass, as the car began to reverse out of the drive.

  He backed out onto the main road, and then moved forward, slipping the car into second gear. He deliberately didn’t look back to see if Miranda was there watching him. Instead he glanced across at the glove box that contained the loaded gun.

  He was going to finish this, once and for all.

  ***

  Emma sat on the sofa in Lizzy’s apartment and stared at the photograph, searching for answers. She looked across at Will, who was kneading the sides of his head.