Scared to Live

38

Rain spattered on the glass roof of the Lowthers’ conservatory and ran down the windows in long, slow streaks. The stone angel had turned a darker shade of grey, puddles were forming on the backs of the flattened tortoises. Inside, the atmosphere was humid, condensation forming on the leaves of the tree ferns. It almost made up for the icy stares from Henry and Moira Lowther, sitting together on their settee.

Fry gritted her teeth, steeling herself to resist the waves of resentment surging through the foliage. For a few moments on the doorstep, she’d wondered whether they were even going to be allowed into the bungalow. Now, that would have been awkward.

‘Luanne — she’s still alive somewhere, surely?’ said Mrs Lowther. ‘The fact that you haven’t found her yet … I mean, we will see her again, won’t we?’

‘I’m sorry, we can’t say, Mrs Lowther. We’re still looking.’

After that, the Lowthers just looked at her expectantly, offering nothing, asking no questions. And why should they? It wasn’t their job to make it easier for her.

‘I want to go back to what you told me about the adoption,’ said Fry eventually. ‘I understand the procedure for international adoptions can be rather complicated in Bulgaria.’

Henry Lowther grunted angrily. ‘Complicated? You don’t know the half of it. The whole business is like some nightmare from a Kafka novel.’

‘A lot of hurdles in the way.’

‘Absolutely. Right from the beginning, it was made as difficult as possible.’

She detected instant relief from the Lowthers at the direction of her questions. More obvious from Moira than her husband, perhaps. But Henry was prepared to talk now. Eager, in fact.

‘Prospective parents have to obtain the consent of the Bulgarian Justice Minister in advance, before they can even think of starting court proceedings,’ he said. ‘And the application has to refer to a particular child, so you’ve got to find the child before you do anything else.’

‘Hence the orphanage being the first port of call.’

‘Exactly. Then we had to go to the ministry and demonstrate adoption would be in the child’s best interests. Lindsay and Brian had to provide information about themselves: age, health, criminal records, that sort of thing. You need declarations of consent from the child’s natural parents — or the chief physician of the orphanage, in our case. It was only when the minister gave his say-so that we could apply to the regional court in Sofia.’

‘A lot of documents required, were there, sir?’

‘Documents? A whole bloody library of documents. I could reel them off for you now, they’re so imprinted on my brain. I used to go through the list every night before I went to sleep, I was so afraid we’d missed some detail that would bring the whole thing crashing down. Lindsay and Brian had to testify in writing to their motivations. They had to produce their birth certificates and marriage certificate. They had to give evidence about their home, their employment, their income, proof of their financial assets.’

Mrs Lowther was nodding in agreement. ‘And their religion, their ability to raise children … They had to provide references, as if they were applying for a job.’

‘Absolutely,’ said Henry. ‘And they had to produce doctors’ reports — not just a physical examination, but their psychiatric condition, too. There had to be background checks, even for motoring offences. They had to make a declaration of intent, stating that they wouldn’t use the child for medical experimentation. Medical experimentation! What sort of people do they think we are, for heaven’s sake?’

‘And all those documents had to be translated into Bulgarian, and certified by a notary public,’ said Mrs Lowther, trumping him with what must have seemed like the final straw.

Her husband took a breath. ‘Yes, the process was far too complicated. There were insurmountable obstacles put in our way at every stage, and we were defeated by the sheer bloody weight of bureaucracy. It was an emotional and financial drain on the whole family.’

‘Financial, sir?’

‘Oh yes, financial. Didn’t I mention that? With lawyer’s fees and notary’s fees, and the cost of travelling backwards and forwards to Sofia all the time, the expense was crippling. And the worst thing was, we couldn’t foresee any end to it. Not ever. Even Lindsay was so worn down by it all that she thought we’d have to give up.’

‘But you didn’t give up, did you?’ said Fry. ‘You found a way around the system, am I right?’

Lowther twisted in his chair to glance at his wife. They exchanged a look that carried too many meanings for Fry to interpret.

‘Yes,’ admitted Lowther finally. ‘It was then — at the darkest moment in the whole process, when we were all at our lowest ebb — it was then that a miracle happened, as far as we were concerned. That was when we were contacted by Rose Shepherd.’

‘So you weren’t put in touch by a business contact, as you said earlier?’

‘No, that wasn’t quite true.’

‘How did she first contact you?’

‘She phoned the hotel we were staying at. Don’t ask me how she knew where we were staying, or even how she knew about us. It was all a bit hush-hush — we had no way of getting in touch with her while we were there. We always had to wait for her to phone. But it was obvious from the start that Miss Shepherd had plenty of … well, contacts within the system. I’m certain she must have been working with some of the people at the orphanage, but it was never stated, and we didn’t ask.’

‘All right. What did she offer you?’

‘She offered us a shortcut through the bureaucracy. She said she could arrange the necessary paperwork and deliver Zlatka directly to us. For a fee, of course. But frankly, the amount she asked was a good deal less than the cost we’d calculated for continuing the adoption process through the regional court. She told us she’d done it before for other foreign couples, and she even offered us testimonials.’

‘And you believed her, Mr Lowther?’

‘Certainly — especially after I met her for the first time. Rose Shepherd was very plausible, you know. She gave the impression of being completely nice and harmless, but a bit secretive, like a sort of maiden aunt. And it helped a lot that she seemed so… well, British. We were reassured by the fact that she was very like us — but she was Bulgarian, too. She was familiar with the ways of the country, so she knew how to deal with officials. She could play the system, if you like. Well, the upshot was that Miss Shepherd promised us an end to our frustration. She offered to provide exactly what we weren’t achieving through the official channels.’

‘And did she happen to mention that what she was offering was illegal?’

‘No, certainly not. It was never hinted at. She led us to believe that it was entirely above board. She described herself as an international adoption agent.’

‘Oh well, a bit of fancy language makes all the difference, doesn’t it?’ said Fry.

Lowther pulled a face and looked at her accusingly, as if disappointed rather than offended by her sarcasm.

‘She seemed like a godsend at the time, you know. Particularly for Lindsay. Bear in mind that she’d already met Zlatka several times and they’d bonded like mother and daughter. Lindsay had already made a place in her heart for that child. The official process had demanded it, almost. It’s very cruel to make a woman go through that experience and then tear the child away from her again. Don’t you think so?’

‘It’s not my place to pass judgement on another country’s legal system,’ said Fry.

Mrs Lowther smiled sadly. ‘You don’t have any children yourself, I imagine.’

Fry stiffened. ‘Are you really telling me that neither of you, nor any member of your family, ever suspected that what Miss Shepherd was proposing would be against the law?’

Lowther sighed. ‘I think the only person who had any doubts was Brian. But he only wanted whatever would make Lindsay happy, you know. So he went along with it, despite his reservations.’

‘And who paid the fees?’

‘I did. And I was happy to do it. Miss Shepherd knew Bulgarian, and she was able to arrange things that we couldn’t do for ourselves. She knew the system.’

‘Was it difficult getting Zlatka out of Bulgaria?’

‘Not so far as I know.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It was Miss Shepherd who brought the child out of the country. The arrangement was that we would travel to Promahonas, just over the border in Greece, and she would deliver Zlatka to us there. So that’s what we did. We stayed at the Hotel Olympic in Sidirokastro, about fifteen kilometres from the border.’

Lowther fiddled with the leaves of one of the pot plants, releasing a few drops of water that scattered on the oak floor. Fry waited for him to continue, recognizing it was best not to interrupt.

‘From the balcony of the hotel, we could see a hill with a white church on top,’ he said. ‘Or it might have been a mosque, I’m not sure. But I remember it very well. The night we arrived, we spent some time on the balcony looking at it, because we didn’t know what else to do with ourselves. I could see Lindsay didn’t want to talk about the meeting — she was too anxious about it.’

‘Was she worried that Miss Shepherd wouldn’t keep her part of the arrangement?’

He shook his head. ‘I think we both trusted her. Partly because she was British, like us. But also she seemed a very genuine person when we met her. No, it wasn’t Rose Shepherd we had any doubts about. But we didn’t know what problems might crop up, what could go wrong along the way. I’m sure Lindsay was imagining the worst — imagining that she would never see the child again.’

‘So you were due to meet up the next day …’ prompted Fry.

‘Yes. In the afternoon, to give Miss Shepherd time to drive down from Pleven. That meant we had some time to kill. So the morning was even more difficult. But Miss Shepherd was as good as her word. She came down the E79 from Sofia to Promahonas, and the exchange took place in the back of our hire car. She handed over Zlatka, and the documents we needed. Everything seemed in order. Perfect, in fact. We were delighted.’

‘And the money?’

‘I paid for everything. I always wanted to help Lindsay as much as I could, financially. For example, I helped buy some of the things for their house.’

‘A Smeg dual-fuel cooker, for example?’

‘Yes, that was something Lindsay particularly wanted. Brian would never have been able to afford it himself. But for some reason, he seemed to resent accepting my help. It was very shortsighted of him. I only ever wanted to do the best for my little girl.’

‘So how did the arrangement with Rose Shepherd work?’

‘I paid half of her fee up front, and the remainder when she delivered the child. That was the agreement. It seemed very businesslike, and it was one more reason to trust her. I paid in pounds sterling, which was what Miss Shepherd had specified. I suppose they must have done it before.’

‘In fact, they had quite a business going.’

Lowther looked dejected. ‘They told us it would be all right. They said that no one really bothered about what happened to children like Zlatka. You know the sort of children I’m talking about — ’

‘Roma children,’ said Fry.

‘That’s it. They said Bulgarian couples didn’t want them. Well, it didn’t matter to us that she was Roma. She’s a beautiful baby. You’ve seen her, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, sir. Can you tell me who the person was you spoke to at the orphanage?’

‘Her name was Piya. Piya Yotova. I hope she doesn’t get into trouble over this. She was only trying to help.’

‘Piya Yotova is dead.’

The Lowthers gaped at her in amazement.

‘We didn’t know that.’

‘She was shot, along with a colleague, Dimitar Iliev.’

Fry took advantage of the shock clear on the Lowthers’ faces at the news.

‘Mr Lowther, now that we’ve got the truth about the so-called adoption, would you like to tell me again how you came to meet up with Rose Shepherd last Saturday.’

‘I told you, Lindsay wanted to say thank you. She wanted Miss Shepherd to know Luanne was happy and doing well, that it had all been worthwhile. There was nothing wrong with that, was there? No matter how Miss Shepherd might have bent the rules in Bulgaria, she was a caring person. You could see that she genuinely wanted the best for the child.’

‘And you got in touch with her by using the email address she’d given you in Bulgaria?’

‘Yes, that’s what I said,’ agreed Lowther cautiously.

‘Yet you’ve told me you had no way of getting in touch with her while you were there — that you always had to wait for her to phone you at the hotel.’

He hesitated, and Fry knew she was on the right track. There was more to be squeezed out of him yet.

‘Actually, that’s right,’ he said. ‘She gave me that email address when we saw her in Matlock Bath.’

‘I see. And did she happen to give you her phone number at the same time?’

‘Well, yes. So we could keep in touch in the future, you know.’

Fry could tell by the frozen expression in his eyes that Henry Lowther had no idea now whether he was saying the safe thing or not. If he denied having Rose Shepherd’s phone number, would the police be able to prove he was lying? Poor Mr Lowther. He hadn’t been as clever as he thought. He hadn’t planned his story in enough detail.

‘So the question remains, sir, how did you manage to get in contact with her before that meeting?’

‘It was the other way round,’ said Lowther. ‘It was Miss Shepherd who got in touch with us. Perhaps you’ve worked that out.’

‘Why on earth would she do that?’

Lowther had to think about that for a while. His dazed expression was starting to remind Fry of Wayne Abbott’s lamping theory. This was the way she imagined the quarry would look, caught suddenly in a beam of light, not knowing which way it should run to escape.

‘To be honest,’ he said, ‘I think Rose Shepherd was lonely.’

‘Lonely, sir?’

‘Yes. She knew no one in this country. I think she needed some kind of contact.’

‘She risked a lot for a bit of conversation over a cup of tea, didn’t she?’ said Fry incredulously.

Lowther shook his head. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, there wasn’t much in it for Miss Shepherd, was there? She’d gone to a lot of trouble to give herself a new identity and made herself a recluse, all out of concern for her own safety. Why would she decide to risk all that for an hour with you in a tea room in Matlock Bath?’

‘I really don’t know. I just know that she asked us, and we agreed.’

Fry watched him, inviting him to say more, but he remained silent. She looked at his wife instead, and saw that a worried expression had come over her face, a grey wash of despair.

‘It was our fault, wasn’t it?’ she said.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Lowther? Would you repeat that?’

‘It was because of us that Rose died. We got her killed, didn’t we?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t say that exactly.’

Mrs Lowther shook her head, dismissing her denial.

‘The people she mixed with in Bulgaria, they must have come looking for her, to kill her. The same people who shot the couple in Bulgaria. And it was because of us that they found her.’

‘Really? You think so?’

Lowther nodded at what his wife was saying, and sighed deeply. He thought he’d seen a way out, after all.

‘It all makes sense now,’ he said. ‘That’s exactly what happened, isn’t it? It just goes to show what awful consequences the most innocent of intentions can have. I’m only glad that Lindsay never knew anything about all this.’

Fry felt a physical surge of revulsion at his sanctimonious expression. She could see him relaxing now, smug in the belief that everything would be smoothed over and he’d get away with what he’d done. He thought he might escape the light, after all.

‘Actually, Mr Lowther,’ she said, ‘that’s not the way we see it at all. And it isn’t what your former employee, Tony Donnelly, says either.’

Lowther just stared at her, shaking his head slowly from side to side.

Fry leaned forward and spoke to him quietly, fixing her gaze on his. Rain surged against the glass all around them, but she knew that he heard her perfectly well.

‘Nor was it the reason your son killed himself. Was it, Mr Lowther?’

And that was the bullet he was waiting for. Right between the eyes.