Pauline Rowson - In for the Kill

‘Of course she doesn’t.’ I rubbed a hand across my eyes. I felt exhausted.

‘And the police? Have you been to the police?’

‘Get real! How can I tell the police? They’d never believe me and Rowde would know the minute I did.’

‘What are you going to do?’

I pulled myself up. ‘ You’re going to tell me where the money is and then I’m going to get it and give it to Rowde.’

He stared at me as if I’d grown two heads. ‘I don’t know where the money is.’

‘Wrong answer, Gus.’

‘You still think that I’m Andover?’ he cried incredulously.

I remained silent but kept my eyes on him.

Surely it was him? It had to be.

‘You must believe me for the sake of your sons and Vanessa, I am not Andover. I admit I saw her when you were still married to her and I’m sorry for that. I also admit that I never stopped loving her from the moment I met her years ago when she was at university. But I am not Andover and I didn’t frame you.’

Either he was telling the truth or he was a very good actor. But would I know the truth if it was staring me in the face?

‘Go to the police, Alex. You have to for the boys’

sake.’

I hesitated, holding his stare. I could see he was in earnest. I had got it wrong. My body slumped. What remaining energy I had drained from me. My quest to find Andover and save my sons seemed hopeless.

‘Rowde might get to them first. He knows where they are and he has probably seen me make a dash for the airport. He may think I’ve already run away with the money.’

‘Then we need to act fast. Come on.’ Gus had the door open and was striding down the corridor before I could blink. I scrambled after him. The security guard eyed us curiously.

‘Are you OK, Mr Newberry?’

‘Get me a car, Johnson, and now. Ask someone to pack my things and check me out of my hotel.

They can bring my luggage to the airport. Get two seats on the first flight out of here and if there isn’t one, hire me a private plane. Alex, did you check in anywhere?’

‘No, I came straight here. I haven’t even got an overnight bag,’ I stammered, stunned by his swift course of action.

He mumbled something to the receptionist who looked very upset and then we hovered outside until a car drew up about a minute later and Gus urged me to climb inside.

‘If we can get back to England before Rowde gets to Vanessa and the boys, I’ll get them out of the country and make sure they’re safe. I’ll call Vanessa.’

I watched him stab at his mobile phone, his fingers impatiently tapping against the side of his leg as he waited for an answer.

‘Damn, her mobile’s not switched on. I’ll try the school.’

I felt my stomach muscles go into spasm. I was beginning to get nervous. I had a terrible premonition that we were already too late and that instead of making love to a beautiful woman, and then haring here like a mad man, I should have been taking my boys and Vanessa away from that school and into hiding, just as Gus now proposed. I couldn’t even get that right. I heard Gus ask for Mrs Newberry.

‘When?’

He cursed and called the house, throwing me the look of a man who’d just seen his winning lottery ticket go up in flames. I knew what he was going to say even before he said it. He left a curt message for Vanessa to call him urgently as soon as she got in. I didn’t think she was going to pick that message up, just yet.

We kicked our heels round the airport for a while. Whoever the security guard had instructed, she had managed to get us both on the 16.10

flight to Southampton. Soon we were in my car heading for Petersfield. Neither of us spoke.

The house was empty. You could tell that as soon as you stepped inside. There was a note on the kitchen table. Gus read it, took a deep breath and fetched two glasses of whisky. He put one down in front of me.

‘They’ve gone?’ I asked, already knowing the answer to my question.

Gus nodded and tossed back his drink.

I said, ‘Do you know what the saddest words in the English language are? Too late.’

‘What do we do now?’ Gus sat down opposite me. He was deathly pale.

‘We wait for Rowde to call.’

‘Shouldn’t we go to the police?’ Gus’s cool composure had gone the way of the dodo. His tie was awry, his jacket off, sweat patches showed under his arms and his hair was all over the place.

I began to pace the room. ‘No. Rowde won’t hurt them if he thinks he’s got a chance of getting the three million. So I’ll give it to him.’

‘You have it?’

‘No, but Rowde doesn’t know that.’ Suddenly it was quite clear what I had to do. ‘I’ll say that it’s in a Swiss bank account and that I have to go in person to withdraw it. He can come with me.’

‘Will he believe you?’

I didn’t blame Gus for looking sceptical ‘I’ll make sure he does. It might be a good idea if you lie low for a while. Get away from here and stay away until I tell you it’s OK.’

‘I can’t do that.’

‘Rowde will keep hold of Vanessa and my sons, knowing that I’ll do anything to protect them, but you took them from me so you are expendable. In Rowde’s reckoning I hate you and he won’t hesitate to kill you, or have you killed.

He’s a cruel bastard. Why they ever let him out I don’t know, but then that’s the system for you.’

What colour was left in Gus’s face drained away. I thought he was going to faint. In barely a whisper he said, ‘I’ll stay at –’

‘I don’t want to know, that way I can’t tell. I’ll call you and let you know as soon as Rowde makes contact.’

I drove back to Portsmouth and caught the Wight Link ferry to the Island. By the time I reached my houseboat it was late. My eyelids were scratching my eyes. I was so damned tired.

I had only just put my key in the lock when a soft voice hailed me. I was surprised to see Scarlett step out of the shadows.

‘What is it?’ I began irritably. I didn’t have time to think about her mother or look for her if she had gone missing again. Then something in Scarlett’s expression made my heart leap into my throat. I knew it meant trouble, and for me. I could see it. I could smell it.

‘It’s that woman, the blonde one who was on your houseboat,’ Scarlett began.

Deeta. I felt cold and full of dread.

‘She’s dead. She’s been murdered.’

CHAPTER 12

Deeta dead. I couldn’t believe it. It was impossible. I must have said as much aloud because Scarlett picked up on it:

‘It’s true. Percy found her on the beach. He was out with his metal detector. He’s being treated for shock.’

I bet, and then he’ll live off the tale for the next ten years. But that was unkind, and probably untrue. God, what a mess! Poor Deeta. ‘How?’ I asked abruptly.

‘I don’t know.’

Who could have killed her? Why? My mind raced as I saw Scarlett scan the wrecked interior of my houseboat. When her eyes came back to rest upon me they looked puzzled and a little hurt. I felt a stab of guilt as though I had betrayed her. It was ridiculous. Scarlett meant nothing to me.

‘I saw her leaving here the morning she was killed,’ she said.

‘I didn’t kill her.’

‘I know. I watched you leave about half an hour after she did. You climbed into your car and drove off in the opposite direction.’

‘I could have doubled back.’

‘You could have, but you didn’t.’

She said it so confidently and dismissively that I could have hugged her.

‘When did Percy find her?’ A terrible thought had entered my brain and blotted out everything else. How long was it after she had left me and after we had made love?