Launch Code

FOURTEEN

Brooke, Megan and Justin were hanging out in the kitchen when Toby and Lars returned.

‘Want some coffee?’ Megan asked.

‘Thanks,’ said Toby, accepting a cup. ‘Where’s Alice?’

‘Upstairs,’ said Megan. ‘Working on her big deal, I guess. I don’t know how she can think about that with all this going on.’

‘Alice can focus,’ said Toby. Although he agreed with Megan.

‘Hey, Lars,’ said Justin. There was an ominous tone to his voice that Toby hadn’t heard before; Justin was usually a model of politeness. He was sitting upright at the kitchen table, arms crossed, his shirt pulled tight over his bulging chest. ‘I just talked to Vicky on the phone.’

‘Who’s Vicky?’ said Lars.

‘You know who Vicky is,’ said Justin coolly. ‘Craig’s sister. My aunt.’

‘Oh yeah, yeah. Vicky,’ said Lars. ‘I know.’ He sat down at the kitchen table opposite Justin. Brooke was seated next to her husband looking hunched and miserable, gnawing at her thumb.

‘Can I have some of that coffee, Megan?’ Lars asked.

‘Sure,’ said Megan, pouring him a cup.

‘I called Mom first,’ said Justin. ‘To tell her what had happened to Sam Bowen. She said Sam had come to visit her in New London but she hadn’t told him anything. Apart from to speak to Craig’s sister Vicky. So I called Vicky in New Jersey. She was really upset that Sam had been murdered.’

‘Of course she was,’ said Lars.

‘She told me what she had told him.’

‘Told him?’

‘Yes. About that last patrol. And Craig.’ Justin was staring directly at Lars as he spoke.

‘Oh.’ Lars shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

‘You told Vicky right after the patrol that my father’s death wasn’t an accident. You said he was killed.’

‘What? Poor Vicky must be confused. I never said that.’

‘She says you did.’ Justin’s voice had become quieter, but they could all feel the anger. ‘She says you told her exactly that: “Craig was killed.”’

Lars’s discomfort increased. ‘Like I told you, she got confused. It was late one night. We had both been drinking, we were both upset about Craig. “Craig was killed” doesn’t mean someone killed him. She just got it wrong, is all.’

‘She said you wouldn’t tell her what really happened.’

Lars sighed. ‘I did tell her what really happened. It was an emergency drill and Craig was sliding down one of those metal ladders on submarines. They’re steep, you hold on to the railings on either side, and slip down. People do it all the time, they never fall. Never. But Craig must have caught his foot in a step or something, because he tumbled and hit his head. He was out cold for an hour at least. We were worried, but then he came round. And a couple of days later he got a headache, lay down and just died.’ Lars took a deep breath. ‘Right there. Just died.’

Lars stared at Justin. ‘They said afterward it was bleeding in the brain caused by the fall. But I told Vicky all that.’

‘And she didn’t believe you?’

Lars rubbed his moustache. ‘She thought I’d said it wasn’t an accident. Wait! She told Sam Bowen that, didn’t she?’

‘Yes, she did,’ said Justin. ‘And he had told her about the false launch order. She thinks the two are related.’

Lars snorted. ‘So that’s why Sam asked about Craig’s accident? Bill explained it all to him. They can’t have been related. The argument about whether to launch the missiles took place in the control room. Craig was in the missile control centre. It’s a whole different department. It’s on a different level.’

‘Were you there?’ Justin asked. ‘In the control room? When the order came in?’

‘Yes, I was,’ said Lars. ‘I decoded it. With Bill.’

‘What happened?’ said Justin.

Lars hesitated. ‘I can’t tell you, Justin. I’m sorry but I really can’t tell you. All I can say is your father wasn’t involved.’

‘What is this?’ said Justin, his voice rising for the first time. ‘You left the Navy decades ago. The Cold War is finished. Which enemies of ours are going to care about what happened on that submarine? Arab terrorists? The Taliban? Just tell me! Tell me what happened to my father!’

Brooke moved her hand to clasp her husband’s but he flicked it away. He looked angry and he looked determined.

‘What about you, Toby? Did you hear Sam Bowen say anything about my father’s death?’

‘No, Justin. Only what Lars just told you.’

Justin seemed on the brink of accusing Toby of being part of whatever cover-up he imagined was going on, but he thought better of it.

‘Why does nobody ever tell me the truth?’ he said, his voice quiet again. ‘It took me thirteen years to discover that Craig was my real father. And now you are hiding from me how he died.’ He glared at Lars as he said this, but also at Megan and Brooke as representatives of the Guth family. Toby suspected his real anger was directed at Bill.

‘I’m out of here.’ Shaking his head, he got up and left the room. A moment later the front door banged and they saw him head out to the cottage next door. With a look of contempt at Lars, Brooke hurried after him.

‘Well this is a fun Thanksgiving, huh?’ said Megan, now left alone with Toby in the kitchen.

Toby grinned. ‘The turkey was good.’

‘That’s true. My sister is a good cook.’

‘Your sister is a very good cook.’

Toby sat with Megan in companionable silence, staring at his coffee. His phone chirped and he checked it. He looked up and saw her watching him, a long dark curl hanging over her glasses. She looked very little like her sisters. She was shorter than them, darker, less leggy. Her eyes were almost black, compared to Alice’s grey, or Maya and Brooke’s clear blue. But she had the Guth sisters’ chin, of course.

‘Do you know what happened on that submarine?’ he asked.

‘Not really,’ said Megan. ‘No more than you do. Mom told us all before she died, which was, like, seven years ago now. She spoke with us one by one. She had cancer, the treatment hadn’t worked and we knew it was terminal. She said Dad would never tell us himself, but she wanted us to know that he had stopped his captain blowing up the world. She just said that the submarine had received orders to launch their missiles, that the captain of the ship was about to obey them and Dad stopped him.’

‘She didn’t say how?’ Toby asked. ‘Because I was wondering whether your father… ’ he hesitated. ‘Whether your father might have stopped him permanently.’

‘What, you mean killed him?’ said Megan.

Toby nodded. ‘It’s just a guess. But if the captain was dead, presumably he couldn’t order the missile launch. And Sam did imply that the captain was no longer around.’

Megan raised her eyebrows. ‘You realize that’s my dad you’re accusing of killing someone? Your father-in-law?’ She seemed surprised rather than offended.

‘Yeah, I’m sorry. I have no proof. It’s just a guess. Did your mother say anything about it?’

‘A wild guess,’ said Megan. ‘And one I wouldn’t share with Alice if I were you. No. Mom gave me no details. But she did say we weren’t to tell anyone, and we weren’t to let on to Dad that we knew. She told us we could tell our own children eventually. Obviously we talked about it among ourselves. We were amazed and really proud, which is of course why Mom told us.’

‘But now Bill knows you know?’

‘Yeah. That was my fault. Naturally. He and I were having a fight. I think it was about me dropping out of college to be with my boyfriend – what a bad idea that was – and I said something dumb like: “Just because you stopped us all from getting blown up, doesn’t mean you get to decide what we do with our lives.” Oops.’

‘He wasn’t pleased?’

‘No. You’ve seen how seriously he takes that Classified crap – as if it still mattered. But to Dad it does. He signed up to serve his country when he was eighteen and, as far as he’s concerned, he’s never going to stop doing it, however dumb it may be.’

She winced at the memory. ‘The worst bit was he thought Mom had betrayed him. But after a while I think he realized it was a good thing. It was like a bond between us: our own family secret. And we did a pretty good job of keeping it. I haven’t told anyone. Neither has Maya, I don’t think. And Alice didn’t tell you, did she?’

‘No. But she seemed pleased when Bill asked me to join him with Sam.’

Megan smiled. ‘That was his way of cutting you in, without him or Alice having to tell you directly. That’s so typical. Of both of them.’

‘Brooke told Justin, though, didn’t she?’

‘Yes. Brooke tells Justin everything.’

‘That has something to be said for it,’ said Toby.

‘Maybe. It pissed the rest of us off. But we figured Brooke felt bad about Craig being Justin’s father and no one telling him. You heard Justin just now, didn’t you?’

‘Yes. What was that all about?’

‘Justin’s mom Maria was married to Craig. Then, soon after Craig died, she married a guy called Tony Opizzi. Justin was born, and everyone assumed he was Tony’s son. Justin’s older than us, but we used to see him a lot when we were kids. He used to come to stay with us when we were living in Europe; he even went on vacation with us a couple of times. We all thought he was great: the big brother we never had.

‘Anyway, as Justin got a little older he started looking a lot like Craig. I mean, a lot like him. Mom and Dad noticed. Justin’s mom noticed and Tony noticed; but they probably knew right from the beginning. Obviously they didn’t tell us kids. Or Justin. Then Alice and Justin were looking at that photo of Dad and Uncle Lars and Craig in the living room. We were living in England at the time, in Cobham; Justin was about sixteen and Alice must have been ten. And Alice was like: “Hey, Justin, this guy Craig looks just like you.” And Justin figured it out.’

Toby winced.

‘Yeah. Justin lost it. And you know what? He was right: they should have told him. After that, he stopped coming to visit us. We didn’t see him until a few years ago when Brooke went to grad school in Chicago and hooked up with him there. I think she always had a thing for him. She’s seven years younger, but that matters a lot less when you’re twenty-four than when you’re nine. We all worshipped him, even Maya who was only little. He played with her all the time and she loved it.’

‘All of you? Even Alice?’

Megan’s dark eyes flashed and she smiled. ‘Especially Alice.’

Toby opened the bedroom door with some trepidation. Alice was sitting on the bed, her arms wrapped around her bunched-up knees. Her face was flushed but there were no tears. ‘Oh, Toby,’ she said.

Toby closed the door and hopped on to the bed next to her.

‘Toby, you’re not going to ask me any questions, are you?’

‘No, Alice. No I’m not.’

Alice gave everyone, even her family – especially her family – the impression of extreme competence, of absolute self-confidence, of an ability to deal with any crisis. But Toby knew that underneath she was just as vulnerable and insecure as anyone else. More so. She had spent her girlhood, her adolescence, her adulthood working to hide this from everyone. But Toby knew. It was their secret.

‘Come here.’ Toby pulled her towards him. After a minute or so, she looked up and kissed him, softly at first and then with more urgency. Toby’s groin knew what was coming next before his brain did, and within a minute they were naked and entwined on the bed, moving against each other with just enough restraint not to be heard downstairs. But then the bed creaked and Alice let out a little cry.

Afterwards, he lay on top of her, spent, resting his weight on his elbows, protecting her.

She smiled up at him.

‘What’s that?’ she said.

Toby raised his head. A gentle murmuring seeped into the bedroom from the marshes outside.

‘I don’t know.’

‘I think it’s the geese.’

The murmur became a clamour. They both climbed out of bed and went to the window. The sun had just set, and the sky above the marshes to the west was on fire, as red and gold burnished the underbelly of dark clouds. Beneath these, a swirl of hundreds of long black shapes with sweeping wings beat their way northwards towards the sea. They were coming in waves of V formations, which elegantly shifted shape as if in response to a set of complex commands or a mysterious pre-arranged routine.

Geese. Hundreds of them. No, thousands. Making a hell of a racket.

‘They’ve come from the fields inland and they’re headed back out to the mudflats to roost,’ said Alice.

‘They’re magnificent.’

‘Aren’t they?’

Still they kept coming. Alice and Toby watched as the fire in the western sky slowly burnt itself out and darkness took over. The last V had just passed overhead when two pairs of headlights approached the house along the lane outside. Two cars pulled up, one with police markings and the other a silver Ford Fiesta, presumably belonging to a detective.

‘Oh, shit,’ said Alice as she drew back from the window and picked up her clothes.

‘They may not want to speak to you,’ Toby said.

‘I think they probably will,’ said Alice, as she wriggled into her jeans.

Toby pulled on his own clothes and followed his wife downstairs. DC Atkinson and two other police officers were waiting for them in the hall, with Bill. Megan was watching from the kitchen door.

The detective took a step towards the staircase, his expression grave.

‘Alice Rosser. You are under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Sam Bowen.’