In Cold Daylight (20 page)

I watched her head towards the car park. Would she do as I asked? The two men inside the marina office didn’t turn round. She started the engine.

I ran through the boatyard until I came out by the entrance to the marina with the hotel opposite me. She climbed out, a puzzled expression on her face. I jumped in.

‘I’ll be in touch.’

I sped away. In my rear view mirror I saw her looking after me. No one followed me.

Just beyond Petersfield I pulled into a service station and sat for a few minutes before heading inside for something to eat. I stared into my coffee and ate my bacon sandwich. Blotting out the tinny Christmas songs that pervaded the steamy warmth of the café I tried to put the pieces of the jigsaw together. I didn’t believe that cock and bull story she’d given me about just bumping into Jack. I didn’t believe anything she had said except that her father was Drake and I knew that for a fact. What was she doing now? Had she called her accomplice and told him I was driving her car? She didn’t know where I was heading though.

And the two men in the marina? I guessed they were Special Branch. Perhaps they had been following Jody? Would they question her? Maybe they had already done so. Had she called them when I had telephoned and asked her to meet me? That made some kind of sense if she didn’t want me to discover the truth about her father; if she couldn’t kill me then she could have me arrested. Sure, I could spout something about Drake and his research project, but Special Branch would ensure that either I wasn’t believed, or that I would never be allowed to speak out about it. Special Branch didn’t need to silence Jody because they knew that she would never want her father’s treachery to be made public. And the person who had worked with Drake – was there one? Or was that pure fabrication too?

I finished my coffee and the last of my sandwich without tasting it, and called Simon from the public telephone in the corridor between the ladies’ and gents’ toilets. Harriet answered.

‘He’s not here, Adam. He said he had to go to London to sort out your father’s affairs.’

I could hear the wariness in her voice. ‘Then he’s staying at the house?’

‘Probably.’ Then she added, ‘He might not be alone.’

Faye? Was Simon with her? I rang off after telling her that I’d be in touch later.

The service station car park wasn’t very full. I crossed to Jody’s car but before I had gone half way a car pulled in behind it. I slowed my steps.

In the car were the two men I’d seen in the marina office. How had they followed me here?

Jody didn’t know where I was heading. But then perhaps they didn’t need to tail me. Perhaps Jody’s car had some kind of tracking device in it.

Was she aware of that I wondered?

I tapped my pockets as if I’d forgotten something then swiftly did an about turn and headed back to the service station. I called into the café area and my table as though to collect what I’d forgotten and glanced out of the window at the car. One of the men was missing from it.

I quickly left the café but instead of turning out of the exit I headed for the gents’ toilet.

Before reaching it I did a swift turn to the left with a quick glance over my shoulder; no one was behind me. I ran outside and as luck would have it a lorry driver was just climbing into his vehicle.

‘Could you give me a lift, mate?’ I called out.

The man poised, one foot on the step up into his cab. ‘Where do you want to go?’

‘London.’

‘Then you’re in luck. Hop in.’

He dropped me outside the Embankment and I caught the circle line to Victoria, from where I walked to Father’s house. I pressed my finger on the bell and kept it there until a light went on in the hall.

‘What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?’

Simon raged throwing open the door.

‘I rather think that’s my line.’ I stepped over the threshold, surprising my brother with my assertiveness. ‘You can tell Faye to come down, or shall I go up.’ I paused with my foot on the bottom stair.

Simon looked as though he had dressed hastily, since his shirt was hanging out. He wore no tie, socks or shoes. He seemed to be on the point of denying that Faye was there, then shrugged and headed towards the kitchen calling as he went,

‘Faye, it’s your husband.’

As if she doesn’t already know! Simon must have peered out of the window and seen me. I stayed where I was, my body rigid with tension, wondering what emotions would course through me when I saw her. Within a few seconds she appeared at the top of the stairs and glowered at me. I couldn’t help smiling to myself. With Faye I would always be in the wrong.

‘What on earth are you doing here?’ she declared angrily.

I was amazed at her cheek. ‘Aren’t I suppose to say that?’

She raised her beautifully plucked eyebrows.

She’d even had time to renew her lipstick. ‘I don’t know what you mean. I’m here helping Simon sort through your father’s things.’

Oh, that was good. It was almost believable.

The old me would have probably apologised.

Now I saw the steely glint in her eyes that betrayed selfishness, the tightness of her mouth and the tilt of her chin that should have warned me years ago that Faye always got what she wanted.

‘It won’t work, Faye, not this time. I’m not interested in who you’ve been screwing, including my brother.’

She stared at me for a moment, as she calculated which way to jump: a straight denial or something serpentine? Seeing my expression, she must have decided the time for more fairy tales was over. As she descended the stairs, I thought I saw relief on her face. She pushed past me and I followed her to the kitchen where Simon was sitting at the table with a whisky bottle and glass in front of him. He glanced at us and took a swig of his drink.

It was Faye who spoke first. ‘I don’t think you’ve got any cause to be so bloody righteous, Adam. You do realise the police have been to see me at work. You’ve put my whole career in jeopardy.’

‘I doubt it.’

‘You’re wanted for murder, for heaven’s sake!’

She reached across Simon and poured herself a glass of whisky. Neither of them offered me one. Simon glanced up at me a wary expression on his face, which, now that I looked closer, I could see was etched with worry. To him Faye had just been available and willing. I guessed that Simon’s need for sex was a compulsion and already he was beginning to regret being involved with her.

‘Simon’s told me about Alison.’ Faye shuddered beautifully, but instead of making me angry or defensive it made me laugh. That stung her to retort, ‘I don’t think it’s anything to smile about. God, if only I’d known all these years that I’d been living with a madman and a probable murderer.’

‘Lucky I don’t want to kill
you
, then.’ I marvelled at my ability to be so flippant about something that would certainly have sent me over the edge a few weeks earlier. Simon’s head came up; he had obviously noticed the change in me.

‘Don’t worry, Faye. You can have your divorce,’

I said. ‘If Harriet leaves Simon, perhaps the two of you can team up. I think you suit one another admirably.’

‘What do you want, Adam?’ Simon interrupted sharply.

‘I want her to leave.’

‘You’d better go, Faye,’ Simon said, glancing at her. Faye looked furious.

‘I will not.’

‘For Christ’s sake, get out.’ Simon shouted.

Faye flushed. Her eyes flicked between us, and clearly aware that she was not going to be the focus of attention, replied vindictively, ‘Sod you then. Sod you both. You’ll be hearing from my lawyers, Adam.’ She flounced from the room.

‘You can collect your things from the house, including your sodding cat and don’t bother coming to my parents for Christmas.’

If I hadn’t been so worried I might have cheered.

Neither Simon nor I spoke until we heard the front door bang shut a few minutes later. Then I said, ‘OK, I want to know who was working with Drake?’

‘What is all this about Drake?’ Simon said wearily. ‘What is going on, Adam? The police haven’t been to question me yet but no doubt they will. I can’t afford to have a brother of mine splashed across the Sunday newspapers, wanted for murder. I’ve already lost the American finance deal but I’ve got the chance of going in with someone else. You’re not going to ruin that for me.’

‘Just tell me who Drake was working with, Simon,’ I said.

‘I don’t know.’

I made to leave. ‘Have it your own way, but if I get caught by the police I’m going to tell them that I don’t think Father fell down the stairs. You pushed him.’

Simon paled. ‘They won’t believe you.’ He tried to bluff it out but I could see he was nervous.

‘No? Who had a private detective follow me to make sure I stayed away? Who inherits everything? Who spent hours with him before he died? Who is in debt?’

Simon sprang out of his chair and paced the room. The terrible truth of how far my brother might have gone to get hold of the money sucked the breath from me.

Simon said, ‘He was old. He was ill and confused. He fell.’

‘Convenient, though, for you. Were you really in meetings in Bath that morning? Perhaps I should check. Just think what the newspapers would do with that. Then there’s Faye; my brother screwing my wife. The tabloids will love it.’

I heard Simon’s laboured breathing above the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. I couldn’t see his expression because his back was to me.

‘Who gave you Drake’s name?’ I said quietly.

Simon spun round. ‘Does it matter? You asked me to find out. I did.’

‘But who told you?’ I persisted.

‘You’ve gone mad. Why this obsession?’ But it was bluster.

‘Simon…’

He returned to the table to pour himself another whisky. Finally he said, ‘Tim Davenham.’

It was my turn to look surprised. I recalled Davenham at my father’s funeral: the tall, good-looking man. My brain began to slot the pieces into place. Davenham must have taken my file from the back of my motorbike. Why? Because he must have been working on the project with Drake. He had given Drake’s name to Simon and set me up so that he could be ahead of me when I went to Devizes, and then he had tried to kill me on Salisbury Plain. Jody and Davenham wanted to ensure that the secret research project remained just that: secret. My fist clenched and a chill entered my heart.

Steeling myself for his answer, I said, ‘What made you ask Davenham?’

‘It was fortuitous really. He called me on Sunday. He wants to put some money into one of my research projects; we had discussed it at Father’s funeral. I told him you wanted to find out about this laboratory on Salisbury Plain.’

Oh yes, how fortuitous. If I wanted proof that Jody was working with Davenham then there it was. It didn’t explain the men in the marina though, or the fact that her car was fitted with a tracking device, unless Special Branch were keeping an eye on her as well as me. I still didn’t have all the answers but I would soon.

‘Davenham’s address, Simon?’ I demanded.

Simon nursed his whisky.

‘I need it now,’ I said firmly.

He stared at me a moment longer, then with a shrug gave it to me.

By the time I reached Davenham’s home in Mayfair it had stopped raining but the wind was gathering in strength.

I wasn’t stupid enough to think that after confronting Davenham he’d let me quietly go back to Portsmouth and resume my career as a marine artist. This was the end of the line. Soon I would know it all. And soon, said the small voice inside my head, you’ll be dead like Jack.

I rang the bell and waited with my heart knocking against my ribs, from anticipation not fear. There were none of the symptoms of the panic attacks that had once tormented me. My fury was making me bold, and perhaps even foolish, but I didn’t care.

The door drew open and Davenham was smiling at me. ‘Adam, come in, I’ve been expecting you.’ His voice was silky smooth.

I wanted to round on him there and then, to hit that smug, smiling countenance, but I forced myself to wait. Time for that later, when I had the answers, I told myself, as he showed me into a large, splendidly proportioned room, elegantly and extravagantly furnished.

Davenham said, ‘You’re very persistent, I must say. It would have been better for you if you hadn’t been.’

I should have been afraid but I wasn’t. This was the end, the truth. And even if he didn’t kill me, or I managed to escape, I was still glad I had come. I vowed that before I went I would do something to hurt him, to take revenge.

I said, ‘You were responsible for giving those fire fighters cancer and for killing Jack.’

‘I haven’t killed anyone.’

I tensed myself in anger; I wanted to ram my fist into his grinning face.

‘Why don’t you take off your wet jacket,’ he suggested politely. ‘I don’t think you’ll be needing it again, and you’re dripping water all over the parquet flooring.’

I ignored him. He shrugged as if to say please yourself and waved me into a seat easing himself in the seat opposite, pinching up his beautifully tailored light grey trousers, and crossing his legs.

I didn’t sit but continued to loom over him. I could take him at any time. I was strong, fit and younger than him. Was he alone in the house, though? If I attacked him here and now would someone come running? Would they call the police? What chance did I have then of setting the record straight? No one would believe the word of a man wanted for murder against an affluent and respected man like Davenham. I listened for any sound that might tell me if the house was occupied, but apart from the ticking of a clock there was nothing.

Davenham went on, ‘If it’s murder you’re talking about, I rather think it’s you the police want.’

‘You took my file from my bike, when I went back inside to say goodbye to Faye.’

‘Of course.’

‘And you tried to force me off the road in a Mercedes.’

‘I don’t normally do that sort of thing but I thought it might be fun. I didn’t expect you to be riding home so slowly.’

‘How did you know where to find me?’ Then I answered my own question. ‘Simon told you of course but you couldn’t have got ahead of me on the dual carriageway,’ I added, puzzled as I tried to work out the timing of the incident.