The Trouble With Time (26 page)

Kayla had always accepted that Quinn would not be in a hurry to marry again. She had been sympathetic and understanding, and made every effort to be agreeable when she met his children – not easy, they clearly took their mother’s side and were stiff and monosyllabic with her, especially the girl. Though Kayla felt herself established in Quinn’s life, she fitted in with him; he made no accommodation for her. For instance, she never saw him on a Thursday evening. This, he told her, was his time for contemplation and planning, an essential oasis of calm in his busy life. Quinn breezed through a packed diary each week that would have felled a lesser man, worked weekends and frequently attended breakfast meetings and business-related evening occasions; he was certainly entitled to one night to himself a week. Still, she had niggling doubts. Perhaps he kept Thursdays clear for a regular-as-clockwork liaison with another woman . . .

The months and years passed. Quinn took her to Glyndebourne, to a garden party at Buckingham Palace, to grand dinners at City livery companies, to the Mediterranean for a week on a chartered yacht. He did not ask her to move into his apartment. Her daydreams of Ansel presenting her with an enormous diamond engagement ring over dinner at an expensive restaurant remained just that; dreams.

Now she wondered if her situation would be the same in five or ten years’ time, whether the current arrangement suited Quinn so well he felt no need to change it. He was impervious to hints (showing him pictures of gorgeous houses on the fringes of London – “Oh, Ansel, you must look, this house is to die for!” – telling him about Sarah’s baby and how sweet he was) and she did not dare to broach the subject of marriage, let alone give him an ultimatum. Perhaps she should look for someone else while she was still young enough . . . but she didn’t want anyone else. She wanted Quinn.

Most likely she only needed to be patient for a little longer. Persistence would win the day.

A knock on the door interrupted her ruminations on their relationship. It must be a neighbour or the janitor, since the bell hadn’t rung. Not Quinn, who had his own key. She walked impatiently to the door and flicked the screen switch. Jace stood there, Floss Dryden by his side. Kayla gasped and backed away, got out her phone and speed dialled Quinn’s number.

“Kayla. What is it?”

Her voice low, almost a whisper, she said, “Ansel, Jace is outside my door with Floss Dryden.”

His tone changed, became intent and authoritative. “Where’s your gun?”

“In my jacket.”

“Put it in your pocket. Let them in and keep them talking. I’ll come straight over.”

“Will you ring the police?”

“Leave it with me. He’s dangerous, don’t try to do anything yourself, just keep them talking. Don’t let them go. Put the phone away and open the door. Be very nice to him and wait for me.”

“I’ll do my best . . . it might be awkward . . .” He had disconnected. Kayla ran to the wardrobe and swapped the phone for her gun. Her dress had no pockets, so she tucked the gun behind a sofa cushion, swiftly checked her appearance in the mirror and went to open the door.

Ignoring Floss for the moment, she cried, “Jace! After all this time! What are you doing here?”

Jace smiled as he took her in from head to toe, a complicated half smile that was both tender and wary. Kayla had time to notice his brand new old-fashioned clothes; he looked older, leaner than before, but otherwise hadn’t changed. Quinn had said he was dangerous; he was a wanted criminal; but seeing him now, she could not believe he would ever hurt her.

He said, “Hi to you, too.”

“What happened to you for five years?”

“Bad stuff. Good stuff. Life.”

Kayla gazed at him, shaking her head. “Same old Jace. You look terrific. You know there’s a warrant out for your arrest?”

“Yeah.” He gave her the old slow smile. “Are you going to arrest me, then?”

“I ought to.”

Kayla became aware of Floss stirring. She wasn’t smiling; her expression was guarded. “You’d better come in. Both of you. Tell me what’s going on.”

They walked into the room and she closed the door. Jace followed her to the sofa where they sat facing each other. Floss perched bolt upright on the edge of a chair opposite them. Having got the sofa to herself and Jace, Kayla rose gracefully to her feet again.

“Let me get you a drink. Coffee? Wine?”

As Floss said, “Nothing, thanks,” Jace said, “Wine.”

Kayla disappeared briefly into the kitchen, and returned with two champagne flutes and a chilled bottle of Pol Roger, which she handed to Jace to open and pour.

She stared into his eyes. “It’s
so
good to see you, Jace. I thought you’d gone forever and I’d never see you again.” She lifted her glass. “Here’s to you. Now tell me everything that happened, why you disappeared.”

“First, I didn’t steal the TiTrav.”

Kayla’s eyes widened. “It never sounded the sort of thing you’d do. So who did?”

“Quinn. That’s why he killed McGuire.”

“
Quinn?
” There was a pause. “But . . . Scott killed McGuire.”

“No. He got the blame, but it wasn’t him. It was Quinn, because he’d taken the TiTrav from McGuire and he didn’t want him talking.”

Kayla stared at him. Jace had been gone since 2045, and now turned up out of the blue with this extraordinary story. It occurred to her that her ex-boyfriend might be suffering from paranoid delusions – a mental illness could have been responsible for his abandoning home and friends and running away five years ago. She said gently, “Jace, I really don’t think that’s what happened. What makes you think it did? Everyone knew Scott killed McGuire.”

“Scott wouldn’t have shot him through the heart by accident. He learned to shoot pistols in the US to competition standard.”

“Even so, it was the first raid he’d been on. He was young, he was over-excited, he made a mistake.”

“No, Quinn used him as a fall guy. That’s why he was there. Remember at the briefing, you didn’t want him to come? And Quinn insisted?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything. You could just as easily say Scott had the TiTrav and killed McGuire to cover it up. Do you have any concrete proof at all of what you’re alleging?”

Jace’s surface calm began to crack and break up round the edges. His voice became louder, insistent. “Quinn told me himself!”

Kayla looked at him dubiously. “Why would he do that?”

“Because I sussed him. Then he wanted me to join him time travelling. He thought I could be useful. He said he was going to make himself obscenely rich. He offered me money.”

Kayla just shook her head. None of this rang true at all. Quinn was Chief of IEMA Intelligence, highly paid to enforce time laws. He had a private fortune made from shrewd investments on the stock market. He didn’t need more money, he wasn’t a criminal; he was a pillar of society, on friendly terms with the Prime Minister and King William. Jace was living in a fantasy world.

Seeing her expression, Floss pushed up her shirt sleeve, displaying a TiTrav. “Look.”

Kayla stared and caught her breath.
So Jace did steal it
. . .
and for some reason he’s given it to her
. . .

Floss said, “D’you know where I found this? Hidden under Quinn’s ottoman in the dressing room in his flat.”

Kayla didn’t ask what Floss had been doing at Quinn’s home. If she’d been invited there by Quinn, Kayla didn’t want to know. “Why were you searching his apartment? That’s quite an odd thing to do.”

“To find his TiTrav. I knew he’d got one.”

“How did you know?”

Floss hesitated. “I can’t tell you that. But I can tell you when Jace wouldn’t play ball Quinn tied him up and dumped him in future London and he nearly died. He spent five years there on his own struggling to survive. Quinn’s a liar, a killer and a time criminal.”

Kayla didn’t know what to say in the face of these wild, unsubstantiated accusations. Clearly mistaking her silence for shock, Jace took her hand. “I’m sorry. Floss told me you were . . . seeing him.”

“Yes – well, I thought you were gone for good. We’ve been together for nearly four years.”
I don’t know what’s going on, but Jace is crazy and God knows what that girl’s up to. I wish Ansel would hurry up and arrive, he’ll know what to do
. . . Jace looked away, as if he didn’t want to think about her and Quinn being together for four years. Surreptitiously, she turned her wrist a fraction in order to glance at her watch.

Immediately, Floss jumped to her feet. “Jace, it’s time we went.”

Jace frowned. “What’s the rush?”

“You agreed you’d leave when I said. I’m saying we go now.”

“I haven’t asked Kayla yet.”

“Come
on
!”

“Asked me what?”

He turned back to her. “The moment my chip passes a reader I’ll get arrested. That makes life difficult. I wondered if you’d put me up while I get the evidence together to bring down Quinn. You’ve got access to the department files, too, which would help me work out what he’s been up to.”

Floss said urgently, “Jace, we’re not safe here. I don’t trust her. We need to go.”

At that moment the door opened and to Kayla’s relief, Quinn entered the apartment, gun in hand.

“Hands in the air, Jace. You too, Floss.”

Jace’s face closed and hardened. He dropped Kayla’s hand, but didn’t raise his own. Taking his lead, neither did Floss. She cursed herself; she had noticed Kayla’s elegant black dress without drawing the obvious conclusion, that her having changed from work clothes meant she was expecting company, and the fact that Kayla hadn’t mentioned this was damning. How stupid she had been, not to have worked it out earlier . . .

Quinn said to Jace, “Do as I say, or make no mistake, I will shoot you.”

Jace turned to Kayla and said bitterly, “You knew he was coming, didn’t you?”

Quick as a flash, Kayla produced a gun from behind a cushion and pointed it at him. “I’m sorry about this, Jace. Best to do as he says.”

Quinn lowered his weapon a little and transferred his attention to Floss. His eyes flicked to her left wrist and up again.

Though scared and shaking all over, Floss felt hyped-up, super-aware of every detail, adrenaline racing through her veins. Quinn was looking at her differently, with a new respect in his eyes, she was gratified to see. She stared back with all the insolence she could muster.
I’ll give him sweet timidity
. . .

“Aren’t you a tiny bit worried about what might come out in the investigation after you arrest us or kill us?”

“Why should I be? An innocent man has nothing to worry about. And I’m not going to kill you. Hand over the TiTrav you have on your wrist.”

“What, you mean this one, the one that you stole from McGuire before you killed him?”

Quinn raised his eyebrows. “Did Jace tell you that?” He smiled. “And you believed him?”

“Certainly did. After all, I found the TiTrav in your apartment. Quite a strange thing for a time cop to own. But do tell me your version of how it got there, I’m fascinated.”

“I have no idea how it got there – assuming you’re telling the truth.” He shrugged. “Perhaps Jace planted it in my apartment for you to find. As for why he would do that, I can only speculate.”

Kayla said, “I think Jace is delusional – paranoid – he needs psychiatric help.”

“No I don’t,” Jace said. “How about, I’m not mad, your boyfriend’s a crook?”

She shook her head sadly. “Jace, please let us help you. We’re your friends, we’re on your side, we understand you aren’t in control of your actions. They won’t charge you if you’re ill, you have nothing to worry about. We need to get this sorted out.”

Quinn was still focused on Floss. “I advise you to give me the TiTrav. Now.”

“Else you’ll shoot me?”

“No. I won’t shoot you. Although it’s highly irregular, I’m going to make you an offer. It’s not your fault you’ve somehow got mixed up in this. IEMA should never have brought you here, so I’m prepared to make a concession in your case. Give me the TiTrav and I’ll take you straight back to your own time. I’ll ensure you are left there in peace, that the Time Police won’t come again to fetch you. The whole thing will be over as far as you’re concerned. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Come on, Quinn, what kind of pathetic offer is that? I don’t need you to take me. I have my own TiTrav. I can take myself any time I want,
to
any time I want.”

“It’s up to you, naturally. I thought you might prefer my suggestion to the alternative, which is my arresting both of you and letting the judicial system take its course.”

“What you mean is
you’d
prefer it, because you’d get to keep the TiTrav. Plus you know if I was arrested I won’t keep quiet. Once they’ve worked out where you got the TiTrav from, being done for timecrime will be the least of your worries. You might find yourself trying to talk your way out of a murder charge.”

“Very well. Have it your own way.” His manner became formal. “Florence Dryden, I am arresting you on suspicion of committing timecrime, and being in illegal possession of a TiTrav. You will be given the opportunity to contact a lawyer in due course.”

Jace butted in. “Floss, take yourself out of here. I’ll be all right.”

Floss highly doubted this. She wasn’t going to go, leaving him behind, unless there was absolutely no alternative. She’d hoped Jace had been working out a plan while she and Quinn were sparring. A glance towards the sofa told her Kayla was following the conversation, but keeping her eyes fixed on Jace. Her hand holding the gun was steady. If she could only distract her, maybe he could grab the gun. He was near enough. But how? She could always tell Kayla about Quinn’s other girlfriends mentioned in his journal, but that seemed kind of low . . . on the other hand, she couldn’t think of anything else that might get them out of this mess. She went for it.

“Hey, Kayla, I bet you didn’t know Quinn keeps a journal? A very private one. I took a quick look at it when I picked up the TiTrav. There was loads and loads, he’s been writing it for five years, but I could give you edited highlights, just all the stuff he hasn’t told you . . .”