To Love and to Perish

by steve higgs

  Before anyone could answer, the doors behind us burst open. The person coming in did so with such force that almost everyone in the room jumped, and I turned to find Chief Inspector Quinn glaring at me.

  ‘DS Atwell I hope you have a very good reason for this woman to not be in cuffs,’ he growled. The two constables from outside now flanked him on either side and he’d brought more officers with him.

  With nonchalance DS Atwell said, ‘I’ve always found it best to only arrest people if they are guilty, sir.’

  Quinn’s head and eyes snapped around to face the detective in his rumpled too-big jacket. ‘What?’

  An amused flicker played across DS Atwell’s face. ‘Well, sir, Mr Bleakwith wasn’t pushed. Not by Mr Ramsey and certainly not by Mrs Philips. Mr Bleakwith jumped. As for Mr Ramsey’s unfortunate demise, sir, I believe the official verdict is still accidental death because his car’s brakes failed due to poor maintenance. Half of the Maidstone constabulary are looking for a killer when no one has, in fact, been killed, sir.’

  A muscle was twitching in the chief inspector’s jaw. It didn’t show, but I gauged his rage level to be somewhere close to apoplectic.

  With a snarl, and without taking his eyes from DS Atwell, Chief Inspector Quinn said, ‘Constables Romanov and Barton, place these two women under arrest and make sure they are secure.

  The two constables who had been manning the door stepped forward, pulling handcuffs from their belts.

  A voice rang out to stop them.

  ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Chief Inspector.’

  Mindy bounced up onto her toes to see over the heads of the officers crowding the doorway.

  ‘Dad!’ she cried in excitement and relief.

  The chief inspector’s jaw tightened as he pulled an irritated face.

  Shane begged and pardoned and stepped around and between the officers to arrive in Derek’s now almost full-to-the-brim hospital room.

  ‘What are they charged with, please, chief inspector?’

  ‘Do you want a list?’ Quinn replied, his expression showing amusement.

  Shane nodded. ‘Yes, please.’ He quickly turned to give me a wink and put an arm around Mindy for a quick hug.

  Quinn held up his right hand and lifted his index finger. ‘Breaking and entering.’

  Shane interrupted to ask, ‘Where?’

  ‘167 Mewhurst drive, Godmersham. The property of Mr John Ramsey who I still suspect Mrs Philips of murdering.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Shane with a nod as he put down his briefcase and extracted a sheaf of paper. ‘I believe you mean the home of Mrs Philips’ business partner. I am sure you will concur that there was no sign of any forced entry. That is because Mrs Philips has a key and a pre-existing agreement that she could enter the premises at any time of her choosing. Mrs Philips used to water his plants when Mr Ramsey went on holiday. Isn’t that right, Mrs Philips?’

  I opened my mouth to agree with his lie, but Shane cut me off before I could.

  ‘You are under no obligation to answer any questions, Mrs Philips. Please refrain from speaking.’ Shane’s eyes were firmly locked on the chief inspector’s when he asked, ‘Anything else?’

  Quinn extended his next finger and a smile the Grinch would have been proud of creased his lips. ‘Your daughter assaulted a police officer.’

  Shane smiled back. ‘No, she didn’t.’

  Quinn argued. ‘Yes, she did. I can produce the officer in question very easily.’ I felt for Mindy’s hand and gave it a squeeze. If she was arrested and I got to go home tonight, I would never forgive myself.

  Shane drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Quinn’s smile only broadened.

  When Shane’s eyes snapped open a second later, he demanded to know, ‘Did your officer identify himself?’ Quinn’s smile froze in place. ‘He was inside the home of a personal friend of Mrs Philips and failed to identify himself at any point. That being true, there was no way to know he was anything other than a burglar. Shall I continue, Chief Inspector? Or can we wrap this farce up now?’

  The muscle in Quinn’s jaw looked like it might explode. I swear, if the top of his head had started emitting steam, it would not have shocked me one little bit.

  Without a word, he turned to his left and stormed from the room.

  The officers in uniform were all looking at each other, all trying to work out what they were supposed to do now.

  Detective Sergeant Mike Atwell helped them out. ‘You can go now, chaps. Report back to the station. There is no crime to solve here.’

  As they drifted away, the room emptied. It left me feeling like once again I was the centre of attention. I was mortified. Minutes ago, I had barged into the room with a head filled with daft ideas and used them to accuse an innocent woman of infidelity and murder.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I mumbled, barely able to take my eyes off the floor.

  I wondered who might speak first and wasn’t surprised that it was Joanne’s voice I heard.

  ‘I should jolly well think so!’ she snarled at me.

  Derek stopped her from saying anything more. ‘This is not Felicity’s fault, love,’ he soothed her. ‘She got caught up in this and did her best to fight her way out. You saw all those police officers. They have been chasing her because they thought she pushed me. It’s all just a terrible misunderstanding.’

  Joanne protested, ‘She accused me of cheating on you.’

  Derek continued to defend me. ‘It was an obvious conclusion to draw, darling.’ I was not so sure it was; Derek was being very generous.

  ‘I think perhaps, I should go,’ I announced quietly. ‘I have done enough damage for one day.’

  ‘I should say you have,’ snapped Joanne, ignoring Derek and his thoughts on the matter.

  ‘But I want her to still be my wedding planner, mum.’ Tamara’s hopeful voice startled me. I looked across the room to find her still holding her mother’s hand but staring at me with trust in her eyes. ‘Can you stay on, Mrs Philips? Dad is going to get better, but I think Tarquin and I would like to keep to the same date if that’s possible.’

  I looked at Derek and Joanne. Derek gave me a nod filled with warmth and respect. Joanne did not look happy, but she wasn’t going to go against her daughter’s wishes.

  ‘Oh, all right,’ she relented.

  It still felt like it was time to go. To Tamara, I said, ‘Please call me when you are able to and I will rearrange this evening’s appointment.’

  The bride-to-be said, ‘Of course. I will do that as soon as I have talked to Tarquin.’

  There being no need to say anything else. I turned toward the door. Shane led the way, heading outside with Mindy on his heels. As I started to close the door, I could hear Detective Sergeant Atwell inside asking about what else might have caused the terrible symptoms Derek suffered if not the cream.

  It was a question still troubling me, but I did not feel that I could involve myself further. Not now. Not after the embarrassment I had just suffered.

  Mindy waited for me to catch up. ‘I guess we need to put Mr Bleakwith’s car back and rescue mine. What do we do after that?’

  ‘You can drop me at home, Mindy. That’s what you can do. Then please enjoy a well-earned weekend off.’

  ‘Don’t you need me to help with all the things we didn’t get done today?’

  I smiled. Mindy was proving to be a good assistant. I hadn’t expected that. I shook my head at her offer. ‘Thank you, Mindy, but they are all things I can manage on my own. You won’t get any time to yourself next weekend on Raven Island. That wedding is going to be full on. So make sure you relax over the next couple of days.’

  Mindy gave up arguing. ‘Okay, Auntie.’ We walked in silence for a few yards before a thought occurred to her. ‘What about Amber?’

  The Truth

  At home, even though I desperately wanted to get a shower, change my clothes, get something tasty to eat and maybe drown myself in wine, I was even more desperate to find
Amber.

  It was dark out and past her evening mealtime. She wouldn’t let me forget that and I hadn’t bought her a mackerel yet. That was going to result in a hairball finding its way into one of my shoes I felt certain.

  When Mindy dropped me at my door, I paused to give her a hug, then ran into the house to fetch the keys to my Mercedes. I also fed Buster; it was that or listen to him howl and whine all the way to Aylesford and back. I only hoped Amber would come when I called her. Otherwise, I might be there for hours trying to find her.

  With the dog fed and car keys in hand we set off again.

  ‘Do we really have to get her?’ Buster wanted to know. His opinion on the matter was in no doubt.

  ‘Yes, Buster. Amber lives with us. I am not going to abandon her in a carpark in Aylesford. Imagine if I did that to you.’

  Buster squinted into the night. ‘I would be right at home. My natural environment is a broken wasteland. That’s where dystopian heroes are bred.’

  ‘Have you been watching Mad Max again?’

  ‘Little bit,’ he admitted.

  ‘Well, I think you would miss your nice warm bed and the supply of gravy bones under the sink,’ I pointed out.

  ‘Ooooh, gravy bones. Yeah, yeah, yeah.’

  I rolled my eyes and pressed the car to get there a little faster. I wanted to have Amber safely back in my arms.

  Going slow as I came into the carpark, I scanned around with the headlights, hoping I might spot her straight away. Of course, there was no sign.

  I gritted my teeth and told myself she would come when I called her. Leaving Buster in the car in the hope this would be a quick thing, I got out and began calling her name.

  ‘Amber. Amber come to Felicity. Let’s go home now. It’s dinner time.’

  No gorgeous ragdoll cat appeared.

  Accepting the need to widen my search radius, I went back to the car to get Buster.

  ‘I want you to help me find her, Buster,’ I made my request sound like there might be an ‘or else’ in the subtext. ‘Use that powerful nose of yours and find my cat, please.’

  ‘Do I have to,’ he whined.

  ‘If you find her, I will buy you steak to have when she is eating her mackerel.’

  ‘Steak? Okay that’s enough motivation.’ He bounded down out of the car, his nose already working. The evening air was cool but not cold. It was many degrees warmer than the previous Friday night at Loxton Hall. Even so, I didn’t want to stay out in it for long and I really didn’t want to think about Amber having to spend the night outside.

  ‘I have her scent,’ Buster told me as he snuffled his way across the carpark. Nose down, stubby tail wagging, he led me to the gate at the back of the Orion Print premises. A sense of DeJa’Vu spread over me. This is exactly where it all started to go wrong just less than twenty-four hours ago.

  Ignoring the warning voice at the back of my head, I opened the gate and let Buster through.

  ‘Mrs Philips?’

  I almost wet myself at the sound of my name being called and pulled the gate shut again as I spun around.

  Tamara was looking at me with a curious expression. Framed in the light coming from a lamppost, she was dressed for going out and had her handbag hooked over one arm. In the other arm, she had a small pile of folders.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, shocked to find her back at work.

  Frowning slightly as if it were not my place to ask, or perhaps because the question might be better posed to myself, she said, ‘I’m behind. I wanted to get some files to work on over the weekend. And Tarquin was working late. I’ve come to collect him. With dad on the mend, I feel like celebrating. Why are you here?’ There was no mistaking the suspicion in her voice.

  Footsteps coming around the side of the row of buildings heralded Tamara’s fiancé, Tarquin, appearing.

  To avoid answering her question, I seized the opportunity to introduce myself.

  ‘You must be Tarquin,’ I beamed, giving him my professional smile. I knew who he was from the pictures I’d seen of him with Tamara. They were a handsome couple and no mistake. ‘Hello, I’m Felicity Philips. I’m helping to plan your wedding.’ I had my hand out for him to shake.

  He took it, gripping my hand firmly but not attempting to crush it. ‘Ah, the wedding planner. So lovely to finally meet you.’

  I froze to the spot.

  He had hold of my hand and he was still smiling. I was looking at his face, a face I recognised from photographs, but I also knew his silhouette. I’d seen it going by the window of Orion Print last night, but I might never have worked it out if he hadn’t spoken.

  ‘It was you,’ I stammered.

  His smile turned curious.

  The truth of it slammed into me. ‘Oh, my goodness. It was you I heard destroying evidence last night!’

  His smile was gone completely now. I knew his voice. There was no question in my mind, and suddenly I saw the piece of the puzzle that had been missing all along.

  ‘Mrs Philips!’ Tamara’s voice cut through the night air. She was angry, and no doubt felt justified to be so. ‘Again, Mrs Philips? Did you not embarrass yourself enough accusing my mother earlier?’

  Tarquin still had hold of my hand. I tried to pull it away, but his grip trebled the instant I tried. I was pinned.

  Tamara closed to where we were standing. ‘I believe I will have to reconsider my previous request to keep you on, Mrs Philips. I do not see how this can possibly work when all you do is accuse people.’

  Tarquin’s eyes were locked on mine.

  ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ I nodded as I said it, certain I had finally worked it out. Tarquin had come into the firm and proved himself capable and worthy of being retained. That wasn’t enough though.

  ‘What evidence were you destroying?’ I wanted to know. My brow furrowed as I tried to work it out for myself.

  Tamara touched Tarquin’s arm. ‘Leave her, darling. The poor woman is clearly deranged. Let’s go to dinner. We can look for a new wedding planner tomorrow.’

  If I lived to be a thousand, I would never have predicted what happened next.

  Holding my right hand with his, he spun off one foot and swung his left fist in a wide circle. It connected with Tamara’s head, slamming it backward. Her body followed suit as the power of his blow sent her flying. One moment his fiancée was standing next to him, the next she was in the air, and a half heartbeat after that, she hit the ground and crumpled into a heap.

  Tarquin didn’t even bother to look at her.

  I was hyperventilating already, terror gripping me. His grip on my hand registered as pain in some distant corner of my brain, but it was masked by the horrifying knowledge that I was in the grasp of a killer.

  ‘If you must know,’ he replied as calmly as if he were asking me to pass the salt, ‘John didn’t want his sexual preferences to become public. There was an email chain in which he foolishly attempted to sway my course. I made sure he crashed – all it took was a little nudge when he realised his brakes no longer worked – then I came back here to erase all trace of the crime.’

  With a jolt, I realised he was talking about John. ‘You were blackmailing him,’ I guessed.

  Tarquin actually grinned at me. ‘It was so easy. Now I can take over the firm. I am the obvious choice to run it and can appoint myself as CEO once I get rid of Derek. How much do you think I should pay myself?’

  ‘What about Tamara?’ I whimpered as the pain of my crushed hand began to really tell.

  He sniggered. ‘That dopey, brainless idiot? She was entertaining to a point. Did anyone really think I was going to be dumb enough to marry her though?’

  I was drowning in a sea of confusion. I was arranging their wedding, but he had no interest in the bride? What planet had I landed on?

  He laughed again and tugged at my arm. It was then that it finally occurred to me that I probably ought to scream.

  I got as far as drawing in a sudden and deep breath, then he pun
ched me in my gut.

  I don’t know when you were last punched in the stomach. Honestly, I hope you never have been, but the air left my lungs as I doubled over, and sparkly lights danced in front of my eyes as I tried to breathe. I wanted to scream but there was no way I could.

  Tarquin followed up the punch by grabbing a handful of my hair. His hand twisted around, yanking strands from the roots to yet again make me gasp in pain.

  He was looking around, checking to make sure no one had seen or heard us. ‘I think, it’s time to go. Wouldn’t you say, Mrs Philips?’

  If he wanted an answer, he didn’t give the chance to provide one. I gasped in fresh pain as he dragged me across the carpark by my hair.

  ‘I should really be thanking you, of course. You coming to me has saved me the bother of having to come up with a way to kill you. Tamara told me all about you trying to solve the case. Well, I couldn’t have you somehow stumbling upon the truth, now could I? I was going to come to your little cottage in the country, but this is much easier.’

  ‘Stop right there.’

  I got to gasp in pain again as Tarquin spun around to face the new voice and dragged me in a circle with him.

  I had to crane my neck to see, probably tearing out even more of my hair in the process, but there, like a knight in shining armour, was Vince.

  ‘Let her go,’ he growled, his hands clenching and unclenching with ready energy.

  ‘Who the fruit basket are you?’ Tarquin snarled. Obviously, the word he used wasn’t fruit basket, but I don’t like that kind of language and I certainly wasn’t going to repeat it in my own head.

  ‘I’m the guy you really need to worry about,’ Vince came a little closer. ‘I’m the guy who knows who you are. It took me a while to track you down. I’ll give you that.’

  I felt like cheering but I was still gasping for breath and felt like my core was on fire.

  Vince circled to his left, his eyes on Tarquin the whole time. ‘John worked it out too, didn’t he?’

  ‘He was a pervert,’ Tarquin sneered.

  Vince shrugged. ‘Whatever. That’s really not a factor in the equation.’

  ‘What equation?’ I asked. Now that I had enough breath back to speak, screaming seemed a little redundant.