Майкл Ридпат - Launch Code

‘Couldn’t Lars have done that?’ said Megan. ‘He would have been just as worried as Dad about the mention of Pat Greenwald. He could have been worried about Sam claiming he was a Russian spy.’

‘Brooke said that Lars didn’t leave the Cottage,’ said Alice. ‘And until just now I didn’t know that Lars spoke to Pat Greenwald about the near-launch as well as Dad.’

‘Well, then?’ said Megan. ‘Maybe Lars jumped out the back window?’

‘Or maybe he didn’t speak to Pat Greenwald at all back in 1984,’ Toby said. ‘We only have your dad’s word for that.’

‘That’s true,’ said Alice. ‘Maybe Dad lied. And we know Lars didn’t shoot himself.’

‘Oh, you think Dad shot Lars?’ said Megan, with scorn.

Alice nodded. ‘To keep him quiet. Maybe Lars had figured out what Dad had done. Maybe he was going to tell the police. Or Admiral Robinson.’

‘I got the impression Lars knew who killed Sam Bowen,’ Toby said. ‘I think he was about to tell me just before he was shot.’

‘Dad knows how to use a rifle,’ said Alice.

‘But we don’t have one in the house,’ said Megan.

‘And if we did, he wouldn’t have used it,’ said Alice. ‘He’s too smart for that. He would have gotten one from somewhere else.’

‘But he was at home when Toby and Lars went for their walk,’ said Megan.

‘Was he?’ said Alice.

‘No, he wasn’t,’ said Toby. ‘He left the house about the same time as Lars and me. Went out to get plumbing supplies. The police could check on that.’

‘If we let them,’ said Alice.

The three of them stood shivering under the bare branches of the pear tree, thinking about the man inside the house.

Was he really a murderer?

‘No,’ said Megan. ‘I refuse to believe any of this.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Alice, for once showing some sympathy for her younger sister. ‘It’s dreadful to think about, but our father did kill someone. Two people. And that’s not counting Craig all those years ago.’

Toby’s brain was racing through the possibilities. He didn’t want to believe Bill had killed anyone. Nor did he want to believe that Bill had shot at him. But Alice was right: it did make sense.

‘He told me that he believed you had killed Sam,’ Toby said. ‘To protect him. You’re saying he never thought that.’

‘Of course he didn’t,’ said Alice. ‘He knew who had killed Sam. The whole time. He knew.’

‘Did you tell him you suspected him?’

‘No. He and I have this tacit thing going on. He doesn’t ask questions about me, and I don’t ask questions about him. The lawyer’s happy with that. It’s just you and Megan who are screwing everything up.’

‘Sorry,’ said Toby.

No apology came from Megan. She was frowning.

‘So what do we do now?’ said Toby.

‘We stay quiet,’ said Alice.

‘And let the police arrest you again?’

Alice shrugged. ‘It’s my choice. All I want you to do is to respect that.’

Toby looked up as a flight of geese flew low over the house, and veered left over the marsh towards the Wash, honking.

Then he faced his wife.

‘I’ll respect your choice as far as your own freedom is concerned. But if Bill really did kill people, the police need to know. He needs to be brought to justice.’

‘Toby!’ Alice glared at her husband. Then her gaze softened. ‘OK. This is difficult for all of us, you too, Megan. I hate the idea that my father killed anybody. He was wrong. But you heard him, and you heard Sam Bowen. The only reason we are alive today is because of what he did on the Alexander Hamilton all those years ago. And everything he did after that was a result of that day. He made some bad decisions, but they were difficult decisions. He was trying to stop humanity from destroying itself.’

‘I agree he did what he did from the best of motives,’ Toby said. ‘At least as far as speaking to the Russians is concerned. But he shouldn’t have killed an innocent man like Sam Bowen. Or Lars. Or tried to kill me. I’m sorry, Alice: we have got to speak to the police about this, or MI5 or someone.’

‘He’s my father, Toby. I won’t do it.’

Toby swallowed. ‘Then I will.’

‘Shouldn’t we talk to Dad first?’ said Megan.

‘No,’ said Toby. ‘That will just warn him we are on to him.’ He took a deep breath. ‘And he might become dangerous when he’s cornered, right, Alice?’

Alice nodded, reluctantly.

Toby’s phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, but he did see it was a US international code. He answered.

‘Toby? This is Glenn Robinson.’

‘Oh, hello, Admiral,’ Toby said, with a meaningful glance at Alice. He wanted her to know to whom he was speaking. Alice shot him a look: don’t you dare tell him about my father .

‘I’d like to have a little chat with you, and with your wife and her sisters,’ the admiral said. ‘Informal. I’ve got something I want to share with you.’

‘OK,’ said Toby. ‘When do you want to meet?’

‘Is this afternoon OK?’

‘All right. I’ll try to round up the girls. Where?’

‘There’s a pub called The Pheasant in Thurstead. Do you know it?’

‘I know the village.’ Thurstead was a few miles inland from Barnholt.

‘Good. Say three-thirty?’

‘OK. We’ll be there.’

‘And, Toby? Please don’t let Bill know you are coming to see me.’

Toby hung up.

‘What was all that about?’ said Alice

Toby explained.

‘Are you coming?’ he asked the sisters.

‘I will,’ said Megan.

‘You won’t say I think Dad killed Sam Bowen, will you, Toby?’ said Alice.

‘I might,’ said Toby.

Alice shook her head. Fury burned in her eyes. ‘I can’t believe you would do that.’

‘Toby?’ said Megan.

‘Yes?’

‘I know Alice is pretty certain about Dad’s guilt, but I’m not. Let’s just leave it a day or so, eh? Listen to what the admiral has to say. See what turns up. Think about it some more.’

Toby knew that if Bill really had murdered the young historian, he couldn’t let him get away with it. He also knew that if he defied his wife on this, his marriage would be over. The Guth family would be destroyed. He knew Alice, she would never forgive him. And although the logical conclusion was that if Alice was willing to lie to protect her murdering father Toby was better off without her, Toby couldn’t accept that. Part of him admired her loyalty and her bravery. Just as part of him admired Bill.

But she was wrong, and so was her father.

Megan offered a fudge. An excuse to delay a difficult decision.

In theory Toby believed that difficult decisions were best taken sooner rather than later.

He looked at his wife. The anger in her eyes pointed directly at him, hurt. He loved her. Could he really take a decision to lose her that quickly?

‘OK,’ he said. ‘I’ll just listen. So will you come?’

‘I will,’ said Alice. ‘And you had better keep your mouth shut.’

The Pheasant was a large white-painted pub at the far end of Thurstead’s small high street. The village was a cluster of farms, a few houses, a shop, the church and the pub, most of which straggled along a single road in a shallow valley.

The pub was clearly very old, but it had been tarted up in a disconcerting melange of fashionable grey paint and modern fonts. Mid-afternoon in November it was almost empty: a lone walker with his map sat at one table in front of the fire, and at another in the corner sat the admiral, drinking a Coke.

‘Sorry we’re late,’ said Toby, shaking his hand. ‘It took me a while to round everyone up.’