Хилари Боннер - Death Comes First

Tanner shrugged. It was ill advised. He winced as the pain from his injured shoulder coursed through his central nervous system.

‘I’ve told you all I know, Detective Chief Inspector,’ he said. ‘You know who I am and what I do. Does Mr Vogel also know?’

Vogel confirmed that he did, adding: ‘That does not in any way put you above or beyond the law, Mr Tanner. I hope you are aware of that. If you have broken the law in any regard you will be dealt with exactly like anyone else. And that includes withholding information.’

Clarke frowned at Vogel as if she thought it unnecessary for him to have made that point in the way that he did. He didn’t care.

Henry Tanner seemed oblivious to the undercurrents between the two detectives.

‘You must appreciate, Mr Vogel, that there are people in the world who might like to harm me,’ he said. ‘People who blame me for certain events. People who could seek revenge.’

Vogel had no idea what he meant. It was Clarke who responded.

‘Neither DI Vogel nor I know nearly enough about your activities, business or personal, to be able to pass comment on that, Mr Tanner,’ she said. ‘I was sent here from London simply to lead the investigation into your grandson’s disappearance, whilst at the same time dealing sensitively with you and your family because of the work that you do. Since then there have been further disturbing developments: you have been shot, and two other members of your family are unaccounted for. I believe it is likely that you have information that would be of assistance to us in locating your missing grandchildren and their mother, and apprehending those responsible.’

Henry Tanner stared hard at Clarke through bloodshot eyes, but remained silent.

‘For God’s sake, Henry!’ interjected Felicity. ‘For years I’ve put up with your silly bloody games. You and your father, thinking you’re some sort of master spies. Now is the time to stop. Joyce and the children could be in terrible danger. Somebody took a shot at you and tried to kill you. Are these secrets you’re guarding worth losing your life over? Your daughter and your grandchildren’s lives? Please, tell the truth. Before something worse happens.’

Henry lifted himself up on his pillows, wincing with pain. He looked directly at his wife.

‘I know, darling, I do understand. I realize it may be time to put an end to all the secrecy...’ he began.

It seemed he had finally given in.

Then the door opened and in walked Stephen Hardcastle.

‘Henry,’ he exclaimed. ‘Felicity. I wanted to come before but the hospital wouldn’t let me. How are you, Henry? I’ve been so worried...’

He stopped, apparently noticing Vogel and Clarke for the first time.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ said Vogel.

‘No,’ said Henry Tanner.

‘Mr Hardcastle, it may be better if you come back later,’ DCI Clarke told him.

‘Oh yes, of course.’

But Hardcastle looked uncertain. Perhaps out of habit, he immediately deferred to the man in the bed.

‘Henry?’

‘Makes no difference. I have nothing more to tell these officers. I am unable to give them any help.’

If Henry had been about to reveal all, the arrival of his visitor had caused him to change his mind. Or perhaps merely given him the time to do so.

‘Please leave us, Mr Hardcastle,’ DCI Clarke repeated.

‘Right,’ said Stephen. He turned and headed for the door, where he paused.

‘I’ll be outside if you need me, Henry,’ he said.

Clarke returned her attention to the man in the bed.

‘Mr Tanner, I have full clearance at the highest possible government level to deal with your family. I do not understand your reticence.’

She remonstrated with him in exactly the same way that Vogel had earlier remonstrated with her. Repeating her earlier warnings.

‘Your daughter and two of your grandchildren could be in grave danger,’ she said.

Henry tightened his lips. His one good arm lay at his side, fist tightly clenched.

‘I do not feel that I am at liberty to help you any further, DCI Clarke,’ he said stubbornly. ‘And I am no longer sure that you are the person to help me, to help any of us.’

Felicity sighed in exasperation. ‘What does that mean, Henry?

‘It means what it says. I need to make phone calls. I’m still waiting for a phone call...’

‘Mr Tanner, I understand that you may wish to make certain phone calls, but I would suggest you do so immediately. For the sake of your family. You could all be in great danger.’

Henry seemed to think again.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘I can make no promises, but I will call Mr Smith. I can be guided only by Mr Smith.’

He reached for his phone on the bedside table.

In doing so he seemed to cause himself considerable pain again. He fell back against the pillows, dropping the phone on the bed. Then he started to shake. The blood had drained from his face. He was fighting to breathe. Just like before.

His wife made no move to help him. She didn’t seem to care.

‘Get a nurse,’ said Clarke to Vogel.

He did so. Even though he had a strong suspicion that Henry Tanner could be faking the whole thing. And that maybe he had done so the first time too.

Joyce reckoned the journey from Landacre was going to seem much longer than the couple of hours it would actually take. Assuming Charlie was taking them home. At least he seemed to be heading in the right direction. He had turned on to the M5 and was driving steadily northwards, keeping to the speed limit — which was a relief; she’d been afraid he might drive faster. Then again, the last thing he’d have wanted was to attract attention by driving erratically.

Fred was, for him, strangely silent in the rear compartment of the vehicle. Then again, there was nothing strange about being silent in the face of such a terrible experience. Molly, too, was so traumatized she couldn’t speak; she huddled next to Monika, sobbing non-stop.

Joyce was exhausted. It had been a long day and she’d driven for several hours. The husband she had believed to be dead had suddenly turned up alive, albeit half out of his mind. His account of the events that had led to his staged death had been shocking and at the same time ludicrous. On top of that, she’d witnessed a brutal attack on a young woman who, it seemed, had been having an affair with her not-so-dead husband.

At least she had Fred back, that was the main thing. All she needed to do now was to get her children away from her husband. And then find a way to deliver him into the hands of the police. She had no doubt that was where he belonged.

As to how she was supposed to achieve her two aims, she hadn’t a clue.

Charlie had indicated that he was prepared to take Monika to hospital. It seemed Joyce had got through to him: rather than risk being accused of murder, he’d see to it the girl got the medical treatment she needed.

In addition to helping Monika, Joyce hoped that a stop at A & E would give her a better chance of freeing herself and her children from Charlie’s clutches than if they went straight home. At the hospital there would be people — doctors, security guards, people in authority. The Firs would most likely be empty; with the family absent, any police presence would surely have been withdrawn.

She noticed that they were approaching the Exeter turn-off.

‘Why don’t we come off the motorway here, Charlie, and take Monika to A & E at the Devon and Exeter,’ she suggested, more in hope than expectation. ‘The quicker she gets medical attention, the better for all of us.’

Charlie made no reply.

Right on cue, Monika, who’d been drifting in and out of consciousness, let out a horrible, incoherent cry.