Saving Tara Goodwin (Mystery Book 1) (14 page)

Staring out of the window, Frank became aware of Monty, shuffling around the room, and turning, saw that although the cabinets were ordinary, he seemed to be absorbed by them.

‘Miss Goodwin, there are no locks on the cabinets, why so?’

She turned, and following his gaze, looked around at the old, olive green filing cabinets.

‘Well actually, I did raise the same question, but it was thought that given the overall level of security, it was not necessary to have locks fitted to the cabinets themselves.’

‘Ah. Now there we have it. And which, may I ask, is the Pale 1 cabinet?’

Tara pointed to the far wall, ‘It’s that one over there.’

Monty looked around the room, and gazing up to the ceiling, saw there were three cameras all located into the ceiling rose of the lamp holder, and each camera was fixed and dedicated to its own particular cabinet.

‘And where, exactly, are the camera monitors located.’

Looking up, she frowned and wondered why he was so interested in the cameras.

‘They’re in the security office, the one outside the chamber where we signed in.’

‘And the guard, does he watch the monitors?’

‘Yes, well that is one of their duties.’

‘And how long is their shift?’

‘They work twelve hours.’

‘I see, and the DVD recordings of the shift, are they kept and stored forever?’

‘No, of course not, they’re verified and reused.’

‘Verified? And by whom?’

‘Well the guard of course, he was the one on duty.’

‘So does the guard, re-watch the recordings of the cabinets in order to verify them?’

Frank thought,
'Not unless they’ve got big tits, and a nice, soft, round arse.’

‘Well no, if the shift has been uneventful, the DVDs are wiped and reused.’

‘And would you say the shifts have been uneventful for months, if not years?’

Tara began to wonder where this old man with the electric blue eyes was taking her.

‘Yes, I would say so. Well, until our recent embarrassment.’

‘Indeed, and would you agree, that to expect a security guard to look at filing cabinets over a twelve hour shift, was asking just a little too much?’

Tara winced, ‘I suppose so, but they do have other duties to alleviate the boredom, and they’re only obliged to check the screens every once in a while.’

‘But that’s my point, they check once in a while, but they do not watch.’

Tara felt uncomfortable as Monty stared at her, his bright blue eyes boring into hers.

‘And unfortunately, there’s yet another worry. You see, there’s something in this room that makes the situation even worse. So look, don’t you see something odd?’

Looking around, they saw nothing out of the ordinary, then Monty jerked his thumb up, ‘Look, don’t you see?’

Studying more closely, Tara suddenly pointed up when she realised.

‘The ceiling rose, it isn’t in the centre of the room.’

Monty smiled and clapped his hands, his tired eyes shining warmly to her.

‘Exactly, dear lady, bravo ... The ceiling rose was obviously positioned there in the infancy of electric light, and due to light refraction, don’t you understand?’

Tara slowly shook her head while Frank looked quizzical.

‘You don’t? Well maybe you’re just too young to know. So let me try to explain. You see, in the infancy of electric light, the rules of the day stated, the ceiling rose would be placed where the incoming daylight refracted, or bent down, and in this room, as it is in so many older houses, it would be just a short distance from the window glass, and it’s obviously never been altered, and probably because no-one wanted to interfere with the original integrity of the old manor house.’

Frank agreed, ‘Yeah. Well I see what you mean, but is it important?’

‘Yes, I think it is, and now I’d like to ask Miss Goodwin, two vital questions.’

They looked at him and wondered what was coming.

‘Miss Goodwin, if my memory serves me correctly, I seem to remember from your file that Merlin not only switches on the house lights but uses a central light indicator to determine the time of dusk, so would that be right?’

Tara nodded, ‘Yes, correct on both counts, but I’m lost, so why is that important?’

‘Light refraction. You see, Cabinet No 1 would be standing in semi-darkness long before dusk, and long before Merlin switched on the house lights.’

Frank began to feel a prickle running up his spine.

‘And also, if you look closely, you will see that the dedicated camera for Cabinet No 1 has been sighted with its lens shielded from what light there may have been available, and by the very lamp holder itself.’

‘So if you combine a dark and murky monitor screen with the occasional disinterested glances of a very bored and weary security guard, it comes as no surprise to me that the file was indeed successfully violated.’

Tara inwardly sank, because she had simply not known about the light refraction.

Monty looked into her eyes and knew she was re-thinking the past events.

‘Miss Goodwin. You mentioned in your file that Thornley Manor has its own security cleared maintenance crew, and its very own clerk of works, a Mr Anderton, who would appear to be either a very ignorant engineer, or quite possibly, a very clever one.’

Tara stared transfixed at the ceiling rose as everything began to make sense.

The clerk of works would have known of the light refraction, and the sighting of the camera being useless. So through no fault of her own she’d been tricked yet again.

Shuddering in revulsion, she remembered following her instructions with Anderton. She’d let that foul, disgustingly awful man, take her, she’d let him take her on her hands and knees in that filthy, disgusting maintenance hut, but he hadn’t been helping her at all, he’d only been using her, just like all the others.

She hadn’t been head of security at all, they’d just given her a fancy title and let her act out the part, playing their games with her, using her like a toy.

It hadn’t been a proper job after all, she’d only been placed here to give them sex, that’s all she’d ever been, just a doll, a doll for them to use whenever they wanted her.

Deep in thought, Frank turned to Monty.

‘Now look, don’t get me wrong because this light refraction stuff is very interesting, but how does it help? We’re way up here on the top floor, there’s no way out, and that mad computer controls everything, there’s more security in this place than Fort Knox.’

Monty sagged, ‘I know, but I’m quite sure it’s part of the answer.

Coming out of the hurt of her darkest thoughts, Tara suddenly remembered something.

‘I don’t know if this helps, but that Pale1 file is huge, it’s listed as eighty pages long, and every single page would be automatically ferrous sprayed, so nothing could pass through the gate without Merlin going crazy, and as the file couldn’t have left Leonardo, what could have been the point of the violation? Surely no-one could possibly remember all of that material, but of course, we do know …’

Watching, wide eyed, she saw Monty crumple down to the floor.

13

Sheverill’s Farm was bathed in warm sunshine as Lucinda drank wine from the bottle, and as the aromatic scent of the herb gardens came wafting through the kitchen door, her smile deepened as she gazed fondly to Christiana from across the lunch strewn table.

‘Oh Chrissy, isn’t life wonderful.’

She smiled back, ‘It sure is, honey, and so are you.’

Gazing at her, Christiana saw Lucinda’s eyes begin to glaze over, and easing up her T shirt, picked up the bottle and began dribbling the deep red wine down over her breasts.

‘Lucy, honey, come to me, come and lick my wine.’

Lucinda twitched as she stared, and taking off her T shirt, slid down under the table, and crawling across, came up between Christiana’s thighs, and sliding her hands around her bottom began to lick the wine as it fell from Christiana’s nipples.

As Lucinda suckled, Christiana listened to the house, and hearing the muffled sounds of Martha come plodding down the stairs, whispered softly to Lucinda.

‘Lucy, let’s have some fun in the summer house. Come on, honey.’

Pulling her to her feet, Christiana held her close as she watched the hall door.

Martha came through, and seeing them, stopped abruptly and nodded to Christiana.

Easing Lucinda away, she gently turned her round and helped her totter outside.

‘Lucy, let’s have a party. Now stay right here and I’ll fetch a bottle. Don’t move.’

Running back to the kitchen, she saw Martha waiting nervously for her.

‘Well, Martha, did you have any luck?’

She nodded, but her eyes were scared, ‘I found this in a trunk. Is it any good?’

Christiana’s heart leapt, because there in Martha’s hand was a small black diary.

‘Oh yes, it sure could be.’

Slipping it into the pocket of her jeans, she gathered up the wine, tobacco tin and lighter, and with a smile, walked out. ‘Thanks Martha, and please, keep on looking.’

Arthur sweated at the compost heap, his bushy white hair glistening in the sun, and looking up, his piggy eyes narrowed as the two women walked bare breasted along the path to the summer house, and stabbing the fork into the heap, walked off along a path that ran all the way through the bushes to the summer house.

Peeping through the window, his breath came hot when the two women stripped off their clothes and let them fall to the floor, and settling themselves on the large soft mattress began to kiss and fondle, their bodies entwining while hands searched and soft lips kissed, their lovemaking growing more and more intense.

Arthur stood perfectly still, his erection straining, but Christiana eased away, and taking the bottle, offered it to Lucinda and helped her to drink, and reaching for the tobacco tin, rolled a cannabis cigarette, and flicking the lighter, gave the cigarette to Lucinda, and as she inhaled deeply, Christiana began to lick and kiss until finally Lucinda fell away into the most incredibly erotic dream.

Arthur panted uncontrollably as he masturbated, his hand moving faster and faster until suddenly shuddering, spilt his seed like a river into the dirt.

Martha watched, her cold eyes hating her brother as he eased himself out of the bushes.

‘You’ll get caught one day, doing that, and when you do, don’t expect any sympathy.’

He scowled, ‘I do enough for them, so why shouldn’t they do something for me.’

As he walked away, fastening his trousers, Martha spat on the ground, ‘Men.’

Tugging the small diary from her jeans pocket, Christiana felt excited.

If this was what she was looking for, she could be out of this madhouse before nightfall.

Smiling, she saw a red S on the cover, but her heart soon fell.

Although there were entries on some particular dates, everything seemed to be in code, just endless groups of 4 random figures that made no sense.

Puzzling over the blocks of figures, she sighed and had to face the truth.

This would take time, which meant she would be trapped here for some while longer yet.

After Monty had fallen in the room of Pale Death it had been a nightmare getting him out of Leonardo, with Frank holding him up for the iris checks while Tara lifted his eyelid for the cameras, and then stripping him naked to hold him up like a scarecrow, front and rear, while the camera clicked for Ambrose Dudley.

And Frank had caused a panic going through the blast doors when he dropped Monty’s personally formatted CD and Merlin had threatened an immediate shutdown if it wasn’t inserted in less than a minute, and after a mad dash through the tunnels, the double doors had presented their own problem, with Tara pushing him in the chair while the guard used Monty’s press and swipe cards.

Finally getting through, Frank called Angela, but she was only interested in an update and he had to insist she called the clinic for an ambulance or he would call the state emergency number and to hell with security.

Standing at the foot of the steps they watched the ambulance take him away, and his condition had seemed so bad, they weren’t quite sure if they’d ever see him again.

For Angela it was a growing mixture of anger and frustration, and now, as she stared down to the silent phone, she could still hear Lewis telling her that Monty had collapsed in Leonardo da Vinci, and as this was barely day one of the investigation, it meant her plans were already going badly wrong.

As Frank sat quietly on the steps, he heard the clickety-click of high heels, and turning, saw Tara carrying a tray as she side-stepped down to him.

‘I thought you might like some coffee.’

He smiled, his thoughts far away, ‘Thanks. That’s just what I need right now.’

‘And I’ll join you if I may. Unless you’d prefer to be alone.’

‘No, not at all. Please do.’

Sitting on the step beside him, she poured the coffee, and he found himself thinking that if this young lady was a dark angel, she was a dark angel with a kind heart.

‘Mr Lewis, do you think Mr Montague will be alright?’

He shrugged, ‘I don’t know, I wish I did.’

After a moment she asked the obvious question, ‘Why is he working?’

‘He’s got no choice, and just like the rest of us, he has to do what he’s told.’

Tara looked away, she knew that well enough, ‘Yes, I do understand.’

Nervously clattering the tray down onto the step, she looked away to the clouds.

‘When you’ve completed the investigation, what happens to the guilty?’

Her worrying question suddenly awoke his dark thoughts of Daniels and Coogan.

‘They’ve got a couple of contractors who specialise in accidents, they’ll sort it out.’

Tara shivered in the sun and looked down to her hands, tightly clasped on her knees.

‘And Mr Montague, does he think I’m guilty?’

‘Well I guess you’re in the frame, but I’m not sure, and we both have to agree.’

She swung round urgently, her eyes bright and shining, her blonde curls dancing.

‘But I’m innocent … I swear it … The violation of the file was none of my doing. Oh please … I was acting under orders, you must believe me.’

Looking away to the far horizon, she pressed her soft pink lips tightly together.

‘You see, I really was trying to find out what was going on. But I was made the fool, I can see that now, our masters are very clever at arranging things.’

‘Yeah, but the trouble is, you’ve admitted having affairs with Sheverill and Bromsgrove, then you all had access to Leonardo, and in spite of all the security, that file was violated, so it just had to be an inside job, which doesn’t make it look too good for you.’

‘Mr Lewis, I told you, those men were instruction.’

‘Okay. But you still don’t get it. Your handlers would have disappeared into the woodwork as soon as they realised Cardinal was involved, and as survival is the name of the game, they’ll play the oldest double-cross in the book.’

Tara wilted, ‘So what will they do?

‘Well, they’ll have a cover file, all ready and waiting for just this kind of situation.

It will be laid out and prepared in detail, and while it will make you look as guilty as hell, it will somehow give the illusion that your handlers were the disciples at the resurrection. So you can believe me, you won’t find any friends out there now.’

Tara felt a dark, hopeless sense of despair coming down around her like a cloak of evil.

‘And you think they’ll use it against me, this cover file, I mean?’

‘Not yet, not while you’re under the Cardinal umbrella.’

‘I see. So what will they do?’

‘Well normally they’d just keep it locked away in case you go blabbing to the media and scoot off abroad - but that wouldn’t be allowed to happen in this case.’

‘And why not?’

He stared at her, ‘Are you kidding?’

She looked down, ‘Oh, of course, I forgot. Thornley is an X Station, isn’t it?’

‘You’re damn right it is, and no-one with your knowledge would be allowed to get up and walk away, it’s too serious for that, and I’m taking one hell of a risk trying to help you. You see, Cardinal doesn’t like people doing their own thing, and especially with someone who might be fitted-up with a charge of high treason.’

She twisted her fingers into knots, ‘So, would you really, help me, I mean?’

He sighed, ‘Miss Goodwin, I can only do my best, but you know how the game works, in return I’ll want something from you.’

Tara fell still. She knew exactly what that meant, so nothing had changed.

‘Alright, but could you be gentle.’

He frowned, ‘Well of course, I only want your co-operation, and after all, you’ve got nothing to lose now, so come on, be a good girl.’

Tara looked out over the beauty of the estate, and died just a little bit more.

She’d hoped with the death of Uncle Freddie everything would fade away and she’d be free at last, but of course, nothing had changed.

‘Alright, Mr Lewis, I’ll do as you wish, so shall we go up to my apartment.’

Going up in the lift, he wondered why she’d fallen into this strange, morose silence, and inside her apartment it was bizarre, with her standing there looking at him but not saying a word, while he waited for her to find the courage to speak out against her handlers.

She watched through low sullen eyes as he just stood there, not saying a word.

So what did he want her to do?

Wondering if she needed more time, he took his cigarettes and pointed to the balcony.

Holding back the tears, she bit her lip as she watched him walk out into the sunshine.

He was enormous and she knew it was going to hurt, just as it had with Marcus.

As the awful memories returned, her mind shut down and slipped into her safe world, and quite suddenly she was back in Uncle Freddie’s country house again, and if she wasn’t a good girl, Jennifer Stacey would teach her a good hard lesson.

Walking through to the bathroom she took off her clothes, and watching the water splash into the basin, lathered the big yellow sponge with Essence of Rose, and humming to her favourite song, washed herself all over, towelled herself dry and brushed her hair, and walking to the dresser, pulled the drawer open.

Tara stared into the drawer, unable to believe her eyes.

The drawer was empty.

She felt inside the empty drawer.

It was empty.

So how could that be?

Her heart pounded.

Where had all the naughty clothes gone?

She looked in terror at the empty drawer.

Everything was gone.

Trembling from head to foot, her heart thumped and pounded as lights erupted in a fireball behind her eyes.

Stacey would beat her savagely, and she just couldn’t bear it.

Quivering, she remembered the beautiful fire.

On the day of Uncle Freddie’s death, she’d burnt the clothes in a hollow in the woods until nothing remained except fiery ash.

She remembered laughing, singing and dancing round the fire as the clothes burnt, she thought she wouldn’t need them again, but now she did and they weren’t there anymore.

Tara’s shrill, high pitched scream brought Frank across the balcony in a rush, but when he saw her, he came to a skidding halt as his eyes grew wide in disbelief.

She was crouching naked in the lounge and bending towards him like a cowering animal, her tiny face contorted with terror while endless tears streamed down.

‘I’m sorry. So sorry. The clothes have all run away, but it isn’t my fault, don’t hurt. Please don’t hurt. Oh, pretty please. Beg, beg.’

He stood frozen.
What was she doing? What in the name of god was happening?

Spreading his hands, he opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come.

Watching him spread out his hands, she backed away in a fearful pleading crouch.