Buried

Chapter 34

On the interview table in front of Geoffrey was a pile of tissues, and Ridley was seriously considering whether to send Laura for a second box. Normally, an interviewee would get upset when asked a specific question, or when reminded of details that were worrying them, or just before they were charged with something. But Geoffrey was simply mourning the woman he loved with all of his heart and soul. He had been a client of Ester’s since the mid-eighties and, when she got out of prison for the murder of Dolly Rawlins, he had volunteered to take her in. He hadn’t been the most exciting man in the world, personality — or sexuality-wise — but he’d been a very fast learner and, in the end, Ester and Geoffrey had made a formidable team. Between them, they’d alienated half of the Isle of Wight with their elaborate antics — Ester had once taken Geoffrey to the post office on a diamante dog leash. They’d thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

‘What can we do to help you, Mr Porter-Lewis?’ Ridley asked. ‘Would you like a drink?’

‘Sparkling water, please,’ Geoffrey whispered.

Ridley rolled his eyes and sent Laura to the canteen.

‘You know you’re not in any trouble, right? We don’t think Ester revealed her plans to you, so all we really want to know is whether you have any idea where she was heading after Southampton.’

Geoffrey shook his head in a series of short, sharp movements.

‘She never loved me,’ he sniffled, blowing spit bubbles as he endeavoured to smile. ‘I gave her half of my life and all of the love I had, but she never loved me back. I was OK with that because she liked me — and Ester never liked anyone.’ He paused long enough for Ridley to inch towards the door. ‘Love would have been an awfully big adventure, if only she’d allowed me to show her the way.’

It was the most Geoffrey had said since arriving at the station. He seemed to want Ridley to stay; Ridley would have done if he’d thought for one second he’d get something remotely useful from him at the end of all that dribbling. But that wasn’t going to happen.

The flight to St Lucia was long. Jack was silent and Maggie didn’t push him for conversation. He was in a world of his own, so all she did was hold his hand as a sign that she was there for him when he needed her. She glanced to her left every now and then to see if his furrowed brow had lifted, but it hadn’t. In all of their time together, Jack had never lost anyone close; she imagined he’d now be flicking through the memories of his life with Charlie, and longing for those unrepeatable years gone by.

In fact, Jack was wondering how a bunch of old-school women, who’d learnt their tricks and cons back in the eighties and nineties, would go about getting new passports more than twenty years later. He was convinced that, since the train robbery in ’95, they’d have had no connection with the criminal world at all — Ester went to prison and the others went straight. What Ridley and his team should be doing now is looking back at forgers from twenty years ago. Eddie Rawlins would know exactly whose door to knock on. God, he wished he wasn’t flying to St Lucia! He glanced to his right and saw Maggie’s face. He softened his brow and squeezed her hand.

‘We’ll get him home,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve boxed up your “evidence wall” and put up some old family photos for them. I’m sure your mum and dad don’t want to lie in bed looking at ex-cons and crime scene photos.’

Jack forced a smile. ‘You’ve done exactly the right thing,’ he said. ‘And I’m sorry for leaving it all to you.’

‘I know this case is important to you. I know it’s revealed some unexpected things from your past but, Jack, all of that can wait. Ridley has the case in hand, and as for your revelation about Harry Rawlins, well... he’s not going anywhere, is he?’ Maggie’s face lost some of its empathy. ‘I can’t see how he’s a man to be proud of, Jack. Charlie’s a man to be proud of. The next few days will be so important for you as a family, so don’t let anything distract you.’

‘Days?’

Jack suddenly looked like a little boy coming to terms with the loss of his very first loved one — it didn’t matter how much you explained about the cycle of life, the hurt would be overwhelming and it would be Maggie’s job to rock him to sleep when the end had come and gone.

Maggie leant her head on his shoulder.

‘Life goes on.’ Her words were oddly upbeat.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Jack.

‘Nothing,’ she said.

But he could see how her eyes sparkled.

‘This is completely the wrong moment,’ Maggie went on, floundering.

Jack let out a laugh.

‘You’re pregnant!’ he shouted, so loud the whole cabin could hear. ‘It’s exactly the right moment,’ he said, showering Maggie with rapid-fire kisses. ‘Marry me!’

Jack blurted the words out, and they were as much of a shock to him as they were to her. Marriage had been mentioned in the past, but they always said they’d wait to be more settled, more financially comfortable, more secure. It was nonsense. They’d been doing things in order and now, 35,000 feet above the North Atlantic Ocean, everything was suddenly out of order. Charlie was dying, Maggie was pregnant and Jack was proposing. The world was turning, however painful that might be, and they had no option but to turn with it. The entire cabin had heard the question, and although Maggie whispered the answer only to Jack, the instant round of applause showed they thought she must have given the right answer.

Maggie’s words swam around in Jack’s head: the pregnancy; boxing up his ‘evidence wall’; accepting his proposal; Harry not being a dad to be proud of; Charlie only having days left.

Thinking of Charlie made Jack feel comfortable and safe; thinking of Harry made him feel edgy and excited. Men wanted to be like Harry and women wanted to be with Harry. It must be amazing for someone to have such an impact on those around him. But would Harry fly for nine hours to collect his dad and then care for him until the day he died? Would he feel this much weight in his heart at the thought of losing the man who’d taught him to ride a bike, chat up girls, make a bow and arrow, and appreciate the beauty of the English countryside? Had Harry ever really loved anyone? Jack was proud to belong to Charlie Warr. And he hoped that his child would be proud to belong to him.

Robert Chuke’s face was now on the evidence board, alongside Angela’s. Ridley had just got off the phone to Police Captain Gallatos of the Hellenic Gendarmerie in Greece, who had said categorically that the coach they were searching for had not crossed his borders.

‘Right!’ Ridley barked as he emerged from his office. ‘We’re going to focus on Angela Dunn and Robert Chuke. She’s the youngest. She went from being a maid in a brothel, to being a housewife and mother. She wasn’t even trusted to be at The Grange on the night of the train robbery — she was off somewhere babysitting Kathleen O’Reilly’s kids. And she wouldn’t have had the nous to lie to her own kids about going to Greece, so I still think that’s where they’ve headed. Maybe they dumped the coach. But she’s our weak link. We find her, we find them all.’

‘Sir?’ In Jack’s absence, Laura felt she had to remind Ridley how much Jack rated the intelligence of the women. ‘These women have stayed under the radar for so long because we underestimated them. They’re relying on it. They hid guns from Craigh, they hid their involvement in the train robbery from Newman and Thorn. With all due respect, sir, I don’t think we can dismiss any one of them as being a weak link.’

‘So what do you suggest?’ asked Ridley.

‘It’s all smoke and mirrors, and misdirection,’ she said. ‘Angela was banking on the kids mentioning their holiday, so we’d assume that’s where they were heading. But if you ask me, I think Greece is the only European country they’re definitely not in.’

Laura sat alone in the squad room. All the desk lights were off, apart from hers. Behind her, Ridley’s door was open, meaning he must be in Superintendent Raeburn’s office. She had demanded daily updates since the dead-end accusations thrown at Barry Cooper’s army buddies.

They didn’t know the exact day the women had left the country, but they did know that it had to be after Darren’s arrest, so Laura had put out an ‘all ports’ warning requesting CCTV spanning three days. Now, she was watching CCTV footage of a coach matching the one Rob had bought in London, pulling off the Amsterdam ferry and heading south along the N236. Thirty minutes later, the N236 split into the N238 and the A28, and a faulty intersection camera resulted in Laura losing sight of the coach.

Ridley walked in at that precise moment and sat down at Jack’s desk.

‘Pick a road to follow,’ he said. ‘I’ll take the other one.’

And together, they worked into the early hours.

By 11 p.m., Maggie and Jack had arrived at Victoria Hospital in St Lucia. Charlie was asleep in a private room, and Penny was at his bedside, struggling to sew a rip in the knee of his jeans.

‘Hello, Mum,’ said Jack, and she burst into tears, running into his arms and putting her head on his chest. He held her there for what seemed like an age. ‘It’ll be fine,’ he murmured, knowing that wasn’t true.

While he comforted her, Maggie unpicked the mess Penny had made of Charlie’s jeans.

‘He ripped the knee when he fell,’ Penny wept. ‘I tried to catch him, but he was too heavy. Oh, Jack, I thought I’d lost him. I thought I’d lost him!’

‘Where are you staying, Penny?’ Maggie asked. There was no reply. ‘You’re meant to be aboard ship tonight, so I’ve booked you in with us.’

Penny nodded, but Maggie could see she hadn’t really taken it in. And even though Charlie was sedated, they had to prise her away from the hospital on the promise that they’d come back the next morning at eight o’clock. It was well before visiting hours, but the rules had been set aside for them.

‘They’re so kind,’ Penny said between sobs, but Maggie knew that it was because they didn’t think Charlie had long left to live.

The Le Haut Resort was only three stars, but it had a swimming pool and almost all the rooms had a beach view. Jack didn’t care where they stayed as long as he and Maggie could snuggle down together. As they lay there, with one thin sheet pushed down over their naked bodies by the powerful draught from the ceiling fan, they could hear Penny crying in the bedroom next door.

‘Since moving to London, I’ve seen Dad three times. And the second time was the day he told me he was dying.’ There was so much guilt in Jack’s whispered voice. ‘I thought I didn’t need to see him all the time, because he wasn’t going anywhere. I wish—’

‘Don’t wish for things you can’t change, Jack. Just love him while you can.’

Jack watched a yellow and green gecko crawl along the ceiling directly above his head.

‘Mags,’ he whispered, and the movement of her fingers in his chest hair told him that she was awake and listening. ‘How far gone are you?’

‘A few months already,’ she said. ‘But I only just found out.’

They went on to have a whispered conversation about practical things such as maternity leave, pay drops, the price of nappies and whether they’d need to move from the flat. They both knew that money was tight now, so when the baby came, it’d be even worse. Maggie pointed out that Charlie would never have got medical insurance, being terminally ill, so their pensions and money from the sale of the bungalow would disappear if they didn’t get him home quickly. She wasn’t begrudging the way Jack’s parents had spent their life savings; she was pointing out that Penny would probably be left with little or no money of her own and so would need looking after financially. Maggie and Jack would soon go from having no dependants, to having two.

At last, as a gentle snoring came through the paper-thin walls, Maggie and Jack allowed themselves to relax and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Maggie dealt with all of the medical notes and the medication they needed to take back to the UK with them, while Penny sat in the chair by Charlie’s bedside, watching the two most important men in her life play dominoes. She smiled as she recalled the days when Charlie would allow Jack to win; now it was Jack allowing his dad to win. By the time the first game was halfway through, Penny’s head was nodding and her eyes were closing. Charlie and Jack exchanged glances. Neither of them needed to mention the terrible stress Penny was under; they just allowed her to sleep.

The German police had found the coach, torn it apart and found nothing. No money, no sign of the women. However, under the guidance of Ridley, they had discovered that the front edge of each seat and the top edge of each seat-back had all been recently re-sewn. Jack’s hunch about the seats being stuffed full of the stolen cash was right. Unfortunately for Ridley, it seemed that the staff at Hyatt House had ‘lost’ the women’s booking information — and the coach park around the back was not covered by working CCTV. The women had switched from the coach to a new vehicle or vehicles, unseen, and Ridley had no idea what sort of transport he was now looking for or the pseudonyms the women were using. So far, no known forger of passports and ID documentation had been connected to the women. Ridley was stumped. And for the first time in this entire investigation, he wished that Jack was there.

In West London, Angela’s neighbour Irene from number 36 had been worrying ever since she’d directed DC Warr to Rob’s garage. Unable to bear it any longer, she opened a secret drawer in her bureau and took out a mobile phone which had one number stored in it. She sent a WhatsApp message:

Then she took out the SIM card and flushed it down the toilet. She watched the water settle, made sure the card had gone, then put the kettle on.