by C B Barrie
‘If I may, I would ask you to take your mind back to the period just after the disappearance of Holden. Do you recall a detective constable, Meredith, brought in to investigate Holden’s disappearance?’
‘Vaguely, I wasn’t privy to anything surrounding Holden’s sudden absence from the Metlab foundry.
Napier looked at his notes again. ‘But Ellis writes that even Meredith, who was investigating Holden’s disappearance, vanished from the face of the earth. Following which the deaths of the CM executive Gregson, and the investigating Camborne police officer, DCI Neilson, in a multiple fatal car crash, were also strangely subsequent. More disturbing, Ellis writes, that contrary to everyone else’s knowledge you knew the colour of the two cars involved in the ensuing inferno before anyone else did. We know this to be true because sergeant Nichols, at the then St Ives police station, confirmed that Ellis had asked him if the police had already identified the make, models, and colours, of the two cars that were involved in the B3066 fatal collision. He was told no, the forensic reports had not yet been made available and nothing as yet had been identified. If what Ellis writes is true, and I believe it is, then you had prior knowledge that was exclusive to you at the time, and could only have come about if you’d been a witness to the collision. I’m tempted to say therefore that you contrived it.’
Caplin jumped to his feet. ‘I contrived nothing and I’ve had enough of this. You can both vacate my office immediately. I warn you both, you had better be careful what you allege, and any further accusations, private or public, will result in me seeing my lawyers.
The two rose to their feet, wordless and indignant, and not without a deeply resentful look at him. He waited as they closed his office door and the tension in the office from the two visitors seemed to slowly evaporate. But not for Caplin, the wolves were closing in and he had to dispose of the threat quickly.
He returned to his desk and opened the central top draw, withdrawing the Stellite spools and the carrier spool wrapped in the thirty metres of superfine wire. He looked at his implements carefully, knowing that he had need of them again if he was to protect all that he had accomplished over the years. It was not going to be easy but perhaps he might contrive a single accident that would eliminate both of them in one go.
Looking at his watch he saw it was approaching four thirty p.m. There was no reason for him to stay in the laboratory, so he retrieved his overcoat and briefcase and made his way to the car park.
It was as he approached the Aston Martin that he saw her walking towards him. It was Mrs Templeton and she had a grim, determined look about her.
‘I have been waiting for you,’ she intoned softly,
‘Really Mrs Templeton, I have nothing to say to you so I suggest you return to St Ives.’
She refused to relent and moved closer to him.
‘You know Dr. Caplin, I loved Nathaniel Ellis, he was the son I never had. You may have dirtied our relationship by your scurrilous remarks - Nathaniel told me about your views - but I was his mother and lover, the mother and lover he never had, and he adored me for it. You took away the only thing in my life worth caring about and I hate you for it. I know you killed Nathaniel, and from what Professor Napier has told me about Nathaniel’s letters, I know why you killed him; it was your insatiable hunger for glory. You have descended into moral bankruptcy; if not moral oblivion, nothing stops your depraved behaviour, so don’t even think about trying to excuse your actions.’
It was as Caplin was trying to devise a riposte to her coldly expressed statement that she suddenly twisted her body and flung round an arm. For an instant he saw the glint of a steel blade - but it was too late, and he felt something bury itself in his side.
The agony wasn’t all physical, for as he collapsed to the ground he realised that he’d made a fatal mistake, that factual evidence wasn’t necessarily the basis for suspicion or revenge. All it needed was to be convinced of another’s guilt and a conviction that things were not as they seemed.
Murder included.
About the Author
C.B Barrie originally followed a research and academic career resulting in a range of research and technical publications (Google B.C "Blake-Coleman" and/or Barrie "Blake-Coleman" and for research “B.C Blake-Coleman” on Google Scholar ) before taking up fiction as CB Barrie and Brian A Lee-Blackmore, the latter being primarily humour.
Like all aspiring authors, he battled long and hard to get his first fiction title published "To Each Their Own”, but eventually found a home for that and his follow-up title, "The Faraday Cipher.” This was followed by ‘No Man’s God’ in 2018
C.B Barrie doesn’t write conventional stories or ones that follow the typical ‘Jack and Jill character studies’ or ‘poor girl makes good’ storylines. Instead, he writes for those who want to see something that tends to be entertaining, unconventional and raw.
Anyone wishing to comment on any of his novels, please do so (complimentary ones preferred, of course) at [email protected].
P.S To see all of his titles, Google “CB Barrie” – and if you want to avoid millions of other ‘Barrie’s’ please use the inverted commas in the search term!
