SHADOW OVER THE FENS a gripping crime thriller full of suspense (23 page)

Confusion flooded his brain, and in the absence of a better idea, he moved numbly towards the other chair and sank slowly into it. ‘Bry? The phone call? I don’t understand.’

‘My poor sweet Joseph, of course you don’t understand, and why should you?’ There was something like compassion in her voice. ‘This is all such a mess, such a terrible mess.’

He stared at her, trying to make out the woman he cared so much about, but she was little more than a wraith in the darkness of the armchair. And he had been wrong about the camouflage trousers and boots. Maybe that was what he had expected to see. Actually she was wearing a dark long-sleeved T-shirt, khaki cargo pants and casual suede short boots. It was the gun that really couldn’t get his head around.

‘Do you love me, Joseph?’

He swallowed. It was not what he had expected her to ask him. And not at gunpoint. His mind twisted itself into knots. What was expected of him? What should he say? He took a few deep breaths and calmed himself. The truth had always worked in past ‘I was beginning to think that way, yes.’

She eased forward in the chair and the light from the tiny lantern caught her eyes. For a minute he thought he saw hope in them, along with the traces of recent tears.

‘Then we need to talk, Joseph. Because a lot depends on it.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Dave placed a sheaf of papers on her desk and stepped back. ‘I don’t get it. Bryony is loaded! Accounts everywhere, both here and abroad, and they are just the ones we’ve managed to identify. Heaven knows what other offshore ones she has.’

Nikki jutted her jaw forward. ‘God! We need to know more about her. Especially what she was doing from Germany onwards.’

‘Sorry, but I’m stuck there, ma’am,’ said Dave. ‘She had no regular wage, but very large amounts of money were being paid in, and all untraceable.’ Dave gave an exasperated sigh. ‘I reckon she’s one of those spooks. A spy.’

Nikki stared at him and a picture of Bryony swam into her mind. Strong, athletic, by her own admission a very strong swimmer, and highly intelligent, even if she made out otherwise. A highly qualified scientist.

Dave raised his eyebrows. ‘I
was
joking, guv.’

‘Maybe you’re not so wrong,’ breathed Nikki. ‘I think I need the super to make some delicate enquiries to see if any other departments or agencies have interests her.’

Five minutes later the superintendent appeared in her office doorway. ‘There have been some very hot secure lines active on your behalf, Nikki, but I’m sorry to say that she is not one of ours, and as far I can ascertain, not military or government either.’ He looked anxiously at her. ‘And as I wasn’t warned off by anyone, I’m pretty confident that she’s not in deep cover either.’

Nikki felt a rush of foreboding.

‘Be careful, Nikki,’ the super turned to leave. ‘There are other agencies out there. Powerful ones that we have no connections to, so tread warily, okay?’

She nodded and watched him go. As the door closed, she lifted the receiver and dialled her own number. ‘Come on, come on!’ The phone rang on until the answerphone cut in. She banged it down and rang Joseph’s mobile, praying he was on the road to the nick. ‘Damn you! Why switch your bloody phone off at a time like this?’

She threw the phone down, then grabbed it back up as it rang again.

‘Joseph?’

‘Sorry, dear heart, it’s me, Rory. Just something I thought I needed to mention regarding the late Mr Kurt Carson. I said he had old injuries, and although this may mean nothing, at least two of them were gunshot wounds.’

‘What?’

‘Doesn’t quite tie in with pretty Dutch flowers and plants, does it? I’m sure it’s a cut-throat business, but one does not generally shoot the competition, does one?’

Nikki replaced the receiver, and stood up. Something told her that Kurt Carson was the odd man out regarding the killer’s executed victims. If he’d been shot sometime in the past, maybe he had also been a soldier or a mercenary. She needed to get Joseph to look at the body. There was a chance he would recognise him and fathom out what the hell was going on. She pulled on her jacket. It was an outside chance, but if nothing else, it was a damned good excuse to go find Joseph and drag him back to Greenborough.

‘Dave! Keep me posted on any developments. I’ll keep the radio open.’

* * *

Joseph’s eyes were becoming accustomed to the gloom in the tiny cottage, but he wanted to see Bryony’s face as she spoke to him.

‘Can we have some more light in here? I don’t like talking to a shadow. I want to look at you.’

‘No. It’s better as it is. The things I’m going to tell you belong in the darkness.’ There was a shaky sigh. ‘I just don’t know where to start.’

Joseph could think of a hundred places, but all he could do was stare at her helplessly. ‘What’s going on, Bryony?’

‘Your boss told me you hated lies, and I’m afraid I’ve had to tell you some, but that was before I realised how I felt about you. I don’t want to lie anymore. But you may not like the truth, Joseph.’

‘Try me.’

‘I am in trouble, Joseph. Big trouble.’

His shoulders stiffened almost to the point of spasm. ‘Please, Bryony, don’t tell me this concerns Billy Sweet?’

Bryony laid the gun on the hearth, then reached across and took his hands in hers. ‘I’m afraid it does. And I’m out of my depth and I’m scared.’

Her fingers were cold despite the warm evening, and he felt them tremble in his grip. ‘How could
you
know that freak, that animal . . . that . . . ?’ Words failed him, then a feeling of unease crept up his spine. ‘Where is he, Bryony?’

‘I don’t know,’ she shivered. ‘All I know is that I’ve been playing a dangerous game, and I don’t think I’m winning anymore.’

‘Then you’d better tell me everything, lies and all.’ Joseph mustered a smile and looked into those deep brown eyes. Such sadness. ‘Maybe I can help you.’

Still clasping his hands, she blinked a few times then said, ‘You know that I work for the PA laboratory, well, that’s not my only job. I’m a doctor, Joseph. A scientist. I’m employed by a medical foundation. I used to work with a large team, now there are just two of us. We look after, well l
ooked
after, the welfare of a group of very special patients.’

Suddenly Joseph heard Linda Kowalski’s voice.
They even have highly qualified liaison managers to help with problems.
Awareness flooded through him in a great wave. ‘My God!
You
were looking
after
the clinical trials’ victims?’

‘Yes, and very well, until Billy Sweet arrived here.’ She almost spat the name out, and Joseph recognised the venom as almost equalling his own. Bryony let go of his hands and flopped back in the chair. ‘The foundation was closing down, relocating abroad. There were so few patients left from those old trials, that we offered them the chance of relocating with us and having continued care, or taking a very substantial final settlement. The choice was theirs.’

Joseph thought about Martin and his friends, now all dead, bar one that he knew off. ‘How many were there, Bryony?’

‘Forty years ago there were over two hundred. Now just a handful.’

Joseph frowned. He had had no idea there had been that many. Then he remembered Nikki saying that Martin had a bit of interesting news to tell her. Had that been it? ‘And Martin Durham? Did he take your final settlement by any chance?’

‘No, Joseph, he was one of the few who decided to go with us to Germany.’

Joseph screwed his eyes up tight and massaged the bridge of his nose. ‘So . . . what happened to him?’

‘Billy Sweet happened,’ muttered Bryony tightly.

‘What the hell has that psycho got to do with a medical foundation? Or with you for that matter?’ His voice was little more than a growl. ‘And who is it you work with?’

‘I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.’ Bryony shook her head miserably. ‘Well, my colleague is a lovely man called Kurt Carson. He is an ex-army medic, although his cover job is working for a flower wholesaler.’ She bit her lip. ‘And he was due to meet me here earlier but he hasn’t turned up. I’m worried about him, Joseph. His phone is turned off, and we never do that.’

Pictures of Billy swam across Joseph’s mind. He didn’t know this Carson guy, but he certainly hoped that he hadn’t run into Billy on his trip to the marsh. ‘And Sweet’s somehow connected to your organisation?’

‘He had nothing at all to do with us. He was employed abroad mainly, as a troubleshooter. We needed to speed up the closure process and he was sent to help Kurt and I tie up loose ends, only his methods were not what we were expecting.’ She moved in her seat. ‘And then things got even worse. His past caught up with him. He saw you, Joseph, and he flipped.’

‘But why?’ whispered Joseph.

‘He was scared of you. He said you were the only one who ever saw through him. Most people distrusted or feared him, but Joseph Easter understood him.’

‘I could
never
understand that monster!’ Joseph felt bile rising in his throat. ‘But why kill those poor men who resembled him? Why not just kill me?’

‘You are wonderfully naïve, Joseph.’ Bryony sighed. ‘Killing you was his endgame. But before that, he wanted to see you on the other side of the fence for once. To be suspected and accused of murder. You must have realised that he engineered it so that only you ever saw him.’

The individual notes were suddenly playing a tune in Joseph’s head. That was where it was all heading. He had already been suspended. He was clearly suffering from stress and was always conveniently in the vicinity of the killings, the military-style killings. And who was the sick copper blaming? An imaginary soldier from his past. Very clever! Let’s hear it for Billy Sweet! Joseph tensed as a thought crossed him mind. ‘So what’s this dangerous game you said you were playing?’

Silence spread through the cottage, then the harsh call of a night bird over the marsh broke the quiet and Bryony softly said, ‘I pretended to help him. He asked me to watch you, get to know you.’

‘That’s why you came out with me?’ croaked Joseph.

‘Initially, yes. I needed to know what we were dealing with. I went along with him for a while in order to keep a close eye on him.’ She looked at him unblinkingly. ‘When I realised the danger you were in, and what a madman he was, Kurt and I decided to pull the plug on him. We made a phone call. Billy Sweet should have been removed by now, but . . . ?’ She gave another little shrug of her shoulders, then moved closer to him. ‘The thing is, everything has gone wrong. The foundation is spiriting me away. I will be out of the country by tonight, Joseph.’ She slipped from the chair, knelt in front of him, and placed her head in his lap. ‘Please, come with me.’

* * *

Nikki was about a mile from the town when she heard Dave’s voice.

‘Ma’am, I’ve just had some news from the pathologist. He says to tell you that Kurt Carson was not killed by the same person. There are subtle differences in the angle that the throat was cut, something that tells him Carson’s killer was at least four inches shorter than the original murderer.’

‘Oh shit.’ Nikki put pressure on the accelerator. ‘Anything else?’

‘Plenty, guv. But I have to tell you that our enquiries about both Kurt Carson and Bryony Barton are going to rat-shit, if you’ll pardon the expression. Everything seems to be shutting down on us.’

‘How exactly?’

‘Like when Yvonne rang Carson’s company back, the number is unobtainable. Then she checked them out with the registry of Dutch exporters. They don’t exist.’

‘And Bryony?’

‘Her accounts are closing down, ma’am. Funds are being electronically moved out and transferred, but we can’t find the path they are taking. IT says an automated fail-safe system has been set in motion. One click on a computer or a single phone call could have activated it.’

She’s closing up shop, thought Nikki . . . Whoever she is, she’s on the move.

‘And that’s not all, ma’am. I’ve saved the best till last.’ Dave spoke animatedly for a few minutes, then hung up. Nikki took a moment to assimilate the information, then floored the accelerator pedal and headed for the marsh. The farmhouse was in darkness when she arrived, and the door was locked.

Joseph’s car was still around the back, and Nikki felt a frisson of fear snake across her shoulder blades. She pulled out her own keys and slipped in through the backdoor.

She stood still and listened. She knew the house was empty, but she checked anyway, running from room to room calling Joseph’s name out loud. A few moments later she was back in the kitchen. Either he had been taken by force, and there was no evidence to support that, or he went off with someone he knew, or . . . Nikki paused . . . or he went out on foot.

Nikki ran back outside and stared over the oily black waters of the marsh. There really was only one place that you could walk to, unless you were in training for a marathon, and that was Martin’s place. As soon as she thought it, she knew she was right. Joseph had said he had something to do, and that something, or someone, was waiting at Knot Cottage. Quickly checking that she had her phone safely in her pocket, she began to run down the lane towards the marsh edge and Martin’s old home.

* * *

Joseph ran his hand gently though her hair, then lifted the beautiful face up, and kissed her. For a moment he remembered his dream of cooking for her, of getting a little place where they could be together, of getting to know each other better. But now he knew that would never happen.

‘I’m good at my job, Joseph. My organisation will look after us, and I have money, a lot of money. And contacts. We could start again, Joseph. Another life in another country, somewhere far away from the shadows of the past. Be honest, what is there here for you in this crummy backwater town?’

Joseph methodically listed them in his head:

Friends that I care about. A job I love. Colleagues that would walk on hot coals for me. And I have a beautiful daughter that I want to get to know one day. A daughter who has high ideals and believes that good will always triumph over evil. One that would turn her back on a fugitive father for ever. Oh yes, for all the good it has done me this time, at least I now know that I have the capability to love again.

‘Say something,’ whispered Bryony.

Joseph wished he could. He wished he could have said, “Yes. Let’s go!”, but the alarm bells in his head were drowning out everything. He wanted to believe her. He could have easily convinced himself to do just that. It wouldn’t have taken much, but instead he heard himself say, ‘The telephone call from Sweet. The one that got me here. How did that work?’