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Authors: Susan Lewis

Tags: #Crime

Missing (32 page)

BOOK: Missing
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‘Och, you say the nicest things,’ he chuckled. ‘But just one word before we go on to the auction, if you speak to Miles tell him not to forget who his friends are. I like to count myself as one, but he’s not answering my calls or emails.’

‘Nor mine, but don’t worry, if I do hear from him, I’ll be sure to pass the message on.’

‘OK, so now that’s out of the way, here’s what I’m proposing for your auction. First, we could be interested in televising the whole thing, but I’m not sure the transmission time I’m going to suggest will work for you.’

‘Al, we’d stage it at midnight if you’ll give us that kind of coverage,’ she cried.

‘Nothing so drastic,’ he laughed. ‘Nine on a Saturday morning is what we have in mind.’

‘Absolutely no problem. Anything you want—’

‘Let me finish,’ he interrupted. ‘Second, we’re going to match what you raise, pound for pound, but before you start cheering, there’s a condition attached. We’ll
want
our own people to administer the funds, which isn’t to say you, or anyone else you nominate, such as Angus, won’t be invited onto the committee, but there could be a lot of dosh coming in if it works well, so our accountants will want to keep an eye on it all.’

Vivienne was smiling all over her face. ‘You’re right about one thing, Al Kohler,’ she said, ‘you really have made my day. Thank God someone, somewhere has finally remembered Sharon Goss. I take it it’s all down to you.’

‘I have to admit it, but it’s a damned good cause, and there are a lot of women, or families, in her position who need financial support during times of crisis, and who aren’t lucky enough to have the contacts Sharon does. If this auction proves a success, there’s no reason not to run more in the future, and those in need can apply for help and we can assess them … Well, the administering of it will come later, we don’t need to go into it now, but for tax reasons I think we need to be contacting established charities, which I’m sure you’re already onto. And we should set a date for lunch sometime soon to go over everything. How’s your schedule looking?’

Vivienne quickly reached for her BlackBerry. ‘I’m going to Devon tomorrow,’ she told him, ‘but I’m looking pretty clear for next week. What suits you?’

‘Let’s say Tuesday. I’ll take you to the Rose and Crown on Kew Green. They do great Thai mussels, as you know, since it was you and Miles who introduced me to them. I guess your office is still on the river, in Chiswick?’

‘Pier House, Strand on the Green.’

‘I’ll try to book a table and pick you up at twelve thirty.’

As she rang off Vivienne punched both fists in the air. ‘Yes!’ she cried. ‘Alice, where are you? You’ve got to hear this.’

‘Vivi, another call holding,’ Kayla told her, as Alice came out of the kitchen. ‘This one’s from Stella in Devon. She says it’s urgent.’

‘You are going to be so impressed,’ Vivienne told Alice as she pressed the flashing light on her console. ‘Stella? Hi, it’s Vivienne. Sorry to have kept you. Is everything all right?’

‘Course it is,’ Stella laughed, ‘everything’s always all right with me. Seems like you’m having a bit of a time of it, though. Lovely little boy, I must say. Almost makes me wish me own was that age again. Anyway, not why I’m calling. We’ve had some news down here, well Sharon has. She’s got to go and see her doctor this afternoon, because they think they might have found a donor.’

Vivienne’s heart leapt with joy. ‘You’re not serious,’ she cried, though her head was already spinning at the mere thought of how fast they might now have to turn this around.

‘Nothing’s been confirmed yet,’ Stella told her. ‘We’ll know more later, but I thought you’d like to be kept informed of what was happening. Soon as I has any more news I’ll give you a call. Or Sharon will. She asked me to send her love, by the way, and tell you we’m all looking forward to seeing you. And that boy of your’n, if you wants to bring ’im. Got plenty of babysitters in us, don’t forget.’

‘Thank you,’ Vivienne smiled, her heart swelling with their warmth. ‘And tell Sharon not to worry, everything’ll be all right. We’re all rooting for her.’

Stella chortled with pleasure. ‘You’m a good girl,
Vivienne.
Knew that the first time I met you,’ and without as much as a toodle-pip she was gone.

‘What was all that about?’ Alice demanded as Vivienne put the phone down.

‘Pete, where are you?’ Vivienne shouted.

‘Making a Lego car,’ he shouted back. Then, carrying his fellow mechanic into the office, ‘I heard some of the call, so what’s going on?’

As she began filling them in Vivienne was searching for Al Kohler’s mobile number. ‘I’ll have to warn him that we could be up against the clock now,’ she said. ‘Just pray it doesn’t affect their decision. They won’t know whether it will, of course, until we can tell them how soon they need to set up the transmission.’ Connecting with Al’s voicemail she quickly left a message explaining what had happened, and after telling him to get back to her, she said to Pete, ‘We should take a camera with us tomorrow to record an interview with Sharon, just in case they admit her before we can get her on air. Or maybe Al will be able to spare a crew to come with us.’

‘He’ll have to send someone to recce the auction room,’ Alice pointed out.

‘We need to find out what sort of schedule our firemen are on,’ Vivienne continued, glancing at Kayla who was saying into the phone, ‘No problem, I can hear you. I’ll buzz you in, but make sure no one forces their way in with you,’ and pressing a button on the wall behind her she released the downstairs door. ‘Theo’s arrived,’ she announced, an enormous grin lighting up her face.

Vivienne turned to Alice. ‘Who arranged for all my prayers to be answered at once?’ she demanded.

Laughing, Alice said, ‘I’m sure I told you he was
coming
today, but I should have reminded you.’

‘You mean I shouldn’t have forgotten.’

‘You’ve had a lot on your mind.’

The door opened and a tall, dark-haired young man with eyes the colour of a tropical sea and a smile to dim the sun strode into the office, wearing a full complement of motorbike leathers, including the boots, with a helmet tucked under one arm and a huge bunch of flowers in the other.

‘Oh my God,’ Pete murmured, starting to swoon.

Grinning, Theo said, ‘Hey Pete, see you’ve got yourself a new car,’ and as the others laughed he dumped the flowers on Alice, kissed her roundly, then went to swing Rufus up in the air. ‘Hello, little fellow,’ he cooed. ‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.’

Rufus gurgled with pleasure and tried to reach for the dark lock of hair that fell over Theo’s brow. Letting him take it, Theo leaned sideways to plant a kiss on Vivienne’s cheek. ‘I suppose that lot down there are hanging about for you,’ he said, ‘but they got me instead. I told them I was your other son.’

Vivienne spluttered with laughter, loving him for being so relaxed. ‘Welcome on board,’ she said, moving round the desk to give him a proper hug, and enjoying the way he held both her and Rufus in such an encompassing embrace. ‘I’m afraid you could find the ship is sailing much sooner than you think,’ she warned. ‘I’ve just had a call from Sky, they’re going to televise us.’

‘Fantastic news!’ he declared. ‘Apart from a couple of things I can’t get out of, I’m yours for at least the next month. So make use of me in any way you can.’

Behind them Pete whimpered weakly, and slumped down in his chair.

‘Sssh,’
Kayla
said sharply as they laughed, ‘they’re saying the police are about to make some kind of announcement in the Avery case,’ and reaching for the remote control she turned up the sound on the TV.

With trepidation gathering like weights in her heart, Vivienne turned to watch the plasma screen on the wall. DI Sadler, apparently in conversation with someone out of shot, was standing behind a small bank of microphones while the gathered press waited with notebooks, recorders and cameras poised.

‘Bet they’ve found her,’ Pete murmured.

As though sensing Vivienne’s reaction Theo’s arm closed a little more tightly around her shoulders, while he held the bouncing Rufus on his other side.

‘OK, right,’ DI Sadler said, leaning towards the mikes. ‘This is just a short statement to keep you up to date. The search around the area where Timothy Grainger’s body was found is continuing, but I should stress that, contrary to some rumours we’ve been hearing, there has been nothing so far to suggest that Mrs Avery herself was ever at the location. Some of you have been asking for details about the person who came forward with information about Mr Grainger, but I’m afraid the person concerned has asked not to be identified. We are satisfied at this time that neither Mr Grainger, nor the person who was with him at the scene, is in any way connected to the Avery family.’ He looked off camera as someone spoke to him, then to the mikes he said, ‘Thank you. I think that’s about all we can tell you for now.’

A front-row reporter cut in quickly. ‘Have you found any fingerprints or DNA that doesn’t match Mr Grainger’s or his friend’s?’ he asked.

‘At this time there is no evidence to suggest anyone
else
was at the scene,’ Sadler replied affably. His head went up as he pointed to someone close to the back.

‘Rob Logan,
News of the World
. Is it true you’re reopening the case of Mr Avery’s missing son?’

Sadler’s expression immediately darkened. ‘No, it is not,’ he responded shortly and gestured for another reporter to go ahead.

‘Julia Green, ITV West. Presumably you’ve asked Mr Avery if he knows, or knew, Mr Grainger, so can you tell us what he said?’

‘Mr Avery denies knowing Mr Grainger,’ Sadler replied, looking straight at her.

Vivienne’s heart tightened at the cynicism in Sadler’s tone, never mind the unspoken message he seemed to send to the reporter. ‘Turn it off,’ she said to Kayla, and taking Rufus from Theo she carried him back to her desk.

‘Hang on, someone’s just asked if the search for Jacqueline is happening anywhere else besides Devon,’ Alice said.

Vivienne drew Rufus in warmly against her, while her lacklustre eyes returned to the screen.

‘The TAG team has spread out further onto the moor now,’ Sadler was saying, ‘and another house-to-house is being conducted in the area.’

‘So you’re convinced she never left Devon?’ someone pressed.

‘No evidence has come to light so far to confirm that she did.’

‘Detective Inspector,’ someone else piped up, ‘do you think she’s still alive?’

Sadler fixed the questioner with a gaze that seemed to pass straight through her. ‘If she is,’ he answered, ‘we’d like to know why she hasn’t come forward?’ He
shrugged
expressively and let his meaning drift into the room.

As Kayla lowered the sound Vivienne hid her face in Rufus’s neck, knowing they were all looking at her now.

‘It’s a good point,’ Pete said quietly. ‘If she is still with us, why hasn’t she contacted someone?’

Alice wasted no time answering. ‘She’s not always a rational woman,’ she reminded him.

Vivienne sat up, and as her eyes met Alice’s she said, ‘There’s something I’d like you to do for me.’

‘Of course,’ Alice said. Then added, ‘I have a funny feeling I already know what it is.’

Vivienne nodded, as though to confirm her instinct. Then hugging Rufus to her again, she turned back to Theo, whose mere presence was already making everything seem so much easier to handle. There was no doubt in her mind that his participation was going to make a world of difference from here on in, particularly where the press was concerned. Not that the mystery surrounding Jacqueline was likely to disappear from the front pages, but since the nation at large adored this young man, who wasn’t only a world-class athlete, but a natural-born entertainer, there was finally a fighting chance of getting some proper coverage for Sharon, the firemen and the auction.

The sound of the Critch’s voice made Justine wince as it barked down the phone. ‘Were you watching the news?’ he demanded.

‘Yes,’ she answered.

‘And you got the same impression I did?’

‘They still suspect him.’

The Critch chuckled. ‘It’s only a matter of time,’ he declared confidently. ‘As for you, Justie, you can count yourself lucky you found that email, because without it you wouldn’t just be toast by now, you’d be the scrapings under my boot.’

She made no comment.

‘So, have you followed up on it yet?’ he demanded.

‘No, I’m just—’

‘Well, what the hell are you waiting for? But go careful with it. If it’s real, it’s dynamite, and we sure as hell don’t want it blowing up in your pretty little face now, do we?’

‘I’d appreciate knowing I had your full backing before I go any further,’ she responded tightly.

‘Consider it yours, but you take this anywhere else, Justie, and Avery’s wrath is going to look like a pussy lick in comparison to what I’ll do to you.’

After ringing off Justine continued to sit on the edge of her bed, letting his words recede like grimy water down a plughole while she reflected on the effect the email’s contents had started having on her. At first she’d seen it only as the lifeline she’d needed to rescue herself from a rapid descent into the sad, alcoholic world of Fleet Street has-beens. She’d been as excited and urgent about it then as the Critch was now, but the more she read and considered it, the more it seemed to be sobering her – in fact, it was starting to reach her in a way she wasn’t quite sure how to handle.

With a growing sense of trepidation she went to sit down at her computer where the email she’d stolen from Miles was displayed full-screen. As she reread the words, which she could probably recite by heart, she was thinking of what a cruel and senseless tragedy it would be if Jacqueline’s body was found on the
moor.
She really couldn’t be sure if she suspected Miles now; she only knew that fate had not been kind to that family, and that Miles was as capable as any man of reaching the end of his tether. He wanted his freedom, had become almost desperate for an escape from the hell of never-ending grief into which Jacqueline had dragged them. He naturally wanted to be with the woman he’d loved – more than that, though, he would want to grasp the second chance life had given him to be a father to his son.

BOOK: Missing
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