Deborah Crombie - Where Memories Lie

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Erika Rosenthal has always been secretive with her friend and neighbor, Detective Inspector Gemma James, about her past, except for one telling detail: She and her long-dead husband, David, came to London as refugees from Nazi Germany. But now the elderly woman needs Gemma's help. A unique piece of jewelry stolen from her years ago has mysteriously turned up at a prestigious London auction house. Erika believes the theft may be tied to her husband's death, which had always been assumed a suicide.
Gemma has a tough challenge. She must navigate the shadowy and secretive world of London 's monied society to discover the jewelry's connection to David's murderer. However, the cold case needs to be put back on the books and possibly into the hands of her partner, Duncan Kincaid. When a second, present-day murder kicks the investigation into high gear, Gemma becomes more determined to exact justice for Erika – in a case that will have lasting repercussions.

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But how, Gemma wondered, did Ellen intend to get Erika out of the house and into the street? She couldn't drive the car up on the pavement, as she had with Harry Pevensey-the cars parked either side of Arundel Gardens would block her access.

"Erika-" The burr of the phone made them all start, even though they'd been prepared.

They looked at one another, then Gemma nodded. "Easy now," she whispered to Erika. "And whatever she says, agree."

"Hello?" Erika clicked the phone on, sounding only a little breathless, as if she'd had to cross the room to answer. "Yes. Yes, it is," she said, then listened intently, and Gemma heard the faint sound of a woman's voice issuing from the handset. "You do?" Erika sounded a little befuddled, and Gemma thought Wendy Chen wasn't the only one with a flair for drama. "But that's-Well, it's rather late, but-Are you sure you won't-Yes, I see." She nodded, as if the caller could see her. "Yes, all right. Five minutes, then. Across the street. Thank you," she added, then disconnected.

"Of all the bloody nerve," she said, turning to Gemma and sounding not the least bit confused. "She said she worked at Harrowby's and knew something about my brooch, but that if anyone knew she'd spoken with me, she'd get into trouble. She said she'd be waiting in a red Fiat across the street."

"Is there a red Fiat?" Gemma asked Wendy.

"Yes. She's scouted."

The knowledge that Ellen Miller-Scott had been spying on Erika made Gemma felt cold. Had she seen the unmarked cars? "I'll ring Duncan. Wendy, countdown."

"I'll just make sure my hair's on straight," said Wendy, showing her first sign of tension. "We want to be certain she's in position before I go out."

Stepping into the conservatory in order to get the best reception on her mobile, Gemma called Kincaid. "She's on her way," she said when he answered. "She said five minutes, and we're down one. She told Erika she'd be waiting in a red Fiat across the street."

"Right. Tell Sergeant Chen to be careful, but she has to give her a chance to make the attempt."

"She knows," said Gemma, but he had already rung off. She looked at her watch. Two minutes.

Hurrying into the sitting room, she found Wendy emerging from the loo, patting her hair and straightening her long jacket. "Feel like I'm going for a bloody audition," she said.

"They'll be right behind you." She glanced at her watch once more. "Showtime." Then the absence hit her.

"Wendy, where's Erika?"

"She went into the bed-"

The front door latch snicked.

"Shit." Gemma felt the blood draining from her face as she met Wendy's eyes. "She's done a bunk-"

"I'll get her," said Wendy, starting for the door.

"No." Gemma grabbed her sleeve. "We can't let Ellen see two Erikas. Stay inside."

Then she dashed for the door. If she could pull Erika back, maybe they'd still have enough on Ellen to prove intent.

But when Gemma emerged from the flat, she saw Erika just stepping in between the two cars parked in front of the building. And then Erika was in the street, and a dark shape came hurtling down the chute of Arundel Gardens, straight for her.

Gemma leaped for the pavement, shouting, as the world erupted into a barrage of sound and motion. Erika seemed to bounce back from the Land Rover's front fender, disappearing between the parked vehicles, just as two cars came screeching round from either side of Kensington Park Road, blocking both lanes of traffic.

The Land Rover braked hard, skidding. As the driver threw the car into reverse and looked back, Gemma saw her face clearly. Ellen. They had been right.

But two more cars roared round from Ladbroke Grove and pulled up behind the Land Rover. Ellen Miller-Scott was boxed in.

As Gemma ran down the steps towards Erika, the front doors on the parallel lead cars flew open and four uniformed and armored officers jumped out, shouting, "Armed police!" guns drawn as they crouched behind the shields of their doors.

Reaching Erika, Gemma knelt, mouth dry with fear for her friend, but Erika was already pulling herself up.

"Are you-"

"I'm all right. Just bruised. I-"

The far-side doors of the rear car sprang open. Cullen emerged from the front, then Melody from the back. They were wearing body armor over their street clothes, and they advanced on the passenger door of the Land Rover, guns drawn.

Then, just as Kincaid jumped from the rear car's driver's seat, Gemma saw Ellen's blond head disappear from view.

"Gun!" Cullen shouted. "She's got a gun!"

Kincaid and Melody froze. Cullen, his eyes not wavering from Ellen Miller-Scott, yelled, "Put your hands up! Let me see your hands!"

Time seemed to stop between one breath and the next, and Gemma heard the blood pounding in her ears. Then she jerked into action, throwing her arms round Erika, pulling her down and shielding her with her own body, her heart contracting with terror.

Then Ellen Miller-Scott's blond head reappeared above the seat, slowly, and Doug was shouting, "Open your door! Let me see your hands! Do it now!"

The driver's door of the Land Rover swung open and Cullen screamed, "Take her! Take her!" to Kincaid.

Kincaid sprinted to the car, and then Ellen Miller-Scott was tumbling out, her wrists pinned in Kincaid's hand. He spun her round against the car, hard, and patted her down.

Diving into the passenger side, Cullen emerged holding a small, neat gun. "Bloody bitch!" he said, raising it in the air, and Gemma knew he was feeling the adrenaline dump. "She had a fucking gun! She was fucking going to shoot me!"

Ellen Miller-Scott turned her head to look back at Kincaid. "You've nothing against me." Even restrained against the Land Rover, her voice was a level drawing-room drawl. "I was defending myself against harassment. My lawyer will be in touch with your commissioner before you can draw breath."

Struggling out of Gemma's loosened grasp, Erika stood and limped towards Ellen Miller-Scott. Her hair had come free from its twist, falling in a mass of white about her shoulders, and when she raised a pointing finger, she looked like a Fury unleashed.

"That was your father's gun," she said coldly, clearly. "And you are your father's daughter. I will see you rot in hell."

CHAPTER 23

And I'm not saying love will make you happy-above all, I'm not saying that. If anything I tend to believe that it will make you unhappy; either immediately unhappy, as you are impaled by incompatibility; or unhappy later, when the woodworm has quietly been gnawing away for years and the bishop's throne collapses. But you can believe this and still insist that love is our only hope.

Julian Barnes, A History of the World in 10½ Chapters

On Friday morning, Gemma arrived at the hospital as soon as visitors were allowed on the ward. For the first time, she managed to catch the consultant as he made his rounds.

"I want you to tell me the truth," she'd said, taking him aside. "How bad is it?"

The doctor considered her, as if checking for signs of hysteria, then shrugged. He looked tired, and his skin had the slight gray tinge of someone who slept little and worked too many hours.

"Leukemia is very serious, of course," he told her. "But your mother seems to be responding to treatment. It's early days yet, and there are other options if the chemotherapy isn't successful."

With that Gemma had to be content for the moment. She waited for her mother to come back from her treatment, then sat with her while she dozed. When Vi woke, Gemma told her a bit about Erika and what had happened the night before, leaving out any mention of how close they had come to disaster. She wasn't ready to think about that quite yet.

"Will you get a conviction?" asked Vi.

"It's early days yet," Gemma told her, echoing the doctor. "We've a lot of evidence to sift through."

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