Alex Barclay - Harm's Reach

‘How will we work this?’ said Janine.

‘I’m going to arm myself with some religious research and give that lying man a call,’ said Ren.

‘Speaking of religion... I have an interesting one for you. You know I watched those Jesse Coombes videos. Remember the comment about the flames underneath one of them? Her username was worriedmom354 .’

‘I love the insight the numerics brings,’ said Ren. ‘We know that there is a minimum 354 worried moms out there. Who knows how many more? “We are now boarding Worried Moms 294 through 327”... Yes, though, sorry... what about her?’

‘I did a couple more searches and she’s shown up on other sites,’ said Janine. ‘And commented on the Coombes again too; none of them favorable. She’s from Texas. She seems to know them personally. There’s nothing specific enough that will get our bosses to put us on a flight there, but I’ve emailed you her details — maybe you can get someone from the Dallas field office to go talk to her. Her name is Terry Ragland, she’s a nurse, doesn’t seem too crazy, but definitely has an issue with the Coombes. Her posts about them specifically start about two years ago. Her most recent one was last week. The stand-out phrase for me was “deviant firestarting sociopath”.’

Ren got off the phone and looked up the Dallas field office. She got an email address for one of the Assistant Special Agents in Charge and forwarded Terry Ragland’s postings and contact details.

Ren spent the next half hour researching the Catholic Church’s teachings on surrogacy, before she called Robert Prince.

Holy shit do I have some shocks for you, Robert Prince.

He picked up immediately. ‘Agent Bryce,’ he said.

‘Hello, Mr Prince, I would like to set up a meeting.’

‘I’m flying into Denver in the morning,’ said Robert. ‘We can meet then. But I don’t want anyone else present. I presume this is about the results of the paternity test...’

Ren stood in front of the mirror in the ladies’ room in Safe Streets, dressed in a fitted silvery gray cotton shirt, navy blue pants and belt, and navy blue patent high heels. She powdered her face.

There’s only one way I plan on shining this morning.

By whupping Robert Prince.

She grabbed a fistful of hair and turned to the side.

Hair up or down? Up or down? What do misogynists take more seriously? When a woman spends an extra five minutes pinning her hair up to look less whorish? Or when a woman is too busy cleaning the house and baking cookies to even consider her appearance?

Ooh.

Be fair to this man...

... who is a dickhead.

Stop.

Be fair.

Ren twisted and pinned her hair into a tidy knot at the base of her neck and walked down the hallway to the conference room. She stopped dead when she saw Gary Dettling standing inside with Robert Prince, both of them laughing, neither of them aware of her presence.

WTF?

Ren stood, watching, as the laughter stopped and they both turned serious. Gary was nodding intently. He shook Robert Prince’s hand and left. Ren stepped back into the shadows before he had a chance to see her.

What was that all about?

Ren went to Gary’s office and knocked on the door.

‘Hi,’ she said, sticking her head in. ‘Just checking is there anything I need to know about Robert Prince before I go in there?’

Gary put down his pen and looked up at her. ‘In what sense?’

‘In the sense of you laughing and joking with him in the conference room just now...’

Gary looked at her with great patience. ‘Don’t hate the player...’

‘So that’s all that was...’

‘Yes, Ren,’ said Gary. ‘You do remember that I got a call on day one to hover around this bullshit because he’s an important man. But you and I both know that important men are behind some of life’s shittier events. So though I’m laughing, and hand-shaking—’

‘Deep inside you’re blue?’

‘Yes,’ said Gary. ‘If you set aside your suspicion of Robert Prince, and imagine him as a victim in all this, you would see him as someone who has lost his child, along with an employee/family friend, and it is perfectly reasonable for him to ask for an update on the investigation. My interaction with him was carried out with an open mind and a keen eye on what I have to do to keep my superiors happy.’ He paused. ‘You should try it...’

Ren smiled. ‘Will do. Sorry.’

Robert Prince stood up as Ren walked in.

‘Good morning, Mr Prince,’ she said. She shook his hand and sat down.

‘Good morning,’ said Robert.

‘Why didn’t you come to me earlier about this?’ said Ren. ‘When I took the swabs.’

‘Why would I do that?’ said Robert.

Liars often reply to a question with a question.

‘To assist right away with the investigation,’ said Ren. ‘This is a significant development.’

‘It’s not a “development”,’ said Robert. ‘It’s a simple fact.’

‘You’re a smart man,’ said Ren. ‘You know it’s not that simple. You have told an extraordinary lie to the surrogate who was carrying your baby — both now murder victims — and to the mother of that baby — your wife. That’s no small lie. It’s lying on a grand scale. These women made huge life decisions based on false information. How is it possible that you can’t see the repercussions that could have?’

‘I can see that,’ said Robert. ‘But I know that neither of them knew.’

‘Really?’ said Ren. ‘You really think you can be absolutely sure that your wife hadn’t found out about this?’

‘What is the scenario you have in mind?’ said Robert. ‘That my wife became aware of this and... what? Killed her unborn child and the woman who was bearing it? Don’t be ridiculous. Ingrid wouldn’t hurt a fly. You’ve met her. I’m sure that it’s as obvious to you as it is to everyone else. Ingrid is gentle, she’s kind, she’s...’

Trusting? Easily manipulated? Malleable? Easy to lie to? Which is it?

‘She’s?’ said Ren.

‘She doesn’t deserve any of this,’ said Robert. ‘She just doesn’t deserve this pain. And I hope you’re not going to make it any worse for her.’

‘Me?’ said Ren.

‘The FBI, the Sheriff’s Office...’ He leaned forward. ‘Let me explain. Ten years ago, I had a vasectomy.’

‘Were you trying to buy time by not telling us this right away?’ said Ren.

‘Excuse me?’ said Robert.

‘Were you trying to buy time?’ said Ren. ‘It’s been — what — nearly two weeks since I took the swabs? Did you need that time for some reason?’

‘Why would I need time?’ said Robert.

‘You knew we would find out,’ said Ren.

‘I’m telling you now, am I not?’ said Robert. ‘To get back to what I was saying... ten years ago was the height of the “Robert Prince, what a catch” nonsense in the media. I was a wealthy man, the perfect target for a gold-digger. At that time, I chose to protect myself by having a vasectomy. It’s a reversible operation, I knew that. Now, though, my fear is about the health of my child because of my age. It may be an irrational fear, but it’s a very real one. I don’t have any specific health problem, just fears.’

‘Did you consider genetic testing?’ said Ren.

‘I did, but I rejected the idea,’ said Robert. ‘It may sound selfish, but I didn’t want to know if there was a death sentence hanging over my head.’

‘I understand that,’ said Ren. ‘Why did you not discuss your concerns with your wife?’

‘I... I didn’t want to appear weak to her,’ said Robert. ‘I love my wife, I want her to be happy, that’s all I want. I didn’t want her to pay the price for falling in love with an old guy.’ He smiled.