Authors: Angie Smith
“We need to destroy the phones and the sims we’ve
been using,” she said.
“Have they been compromised?”
“You booked the flights on yours. When they finally
work out I’m not in the flat they’ll start digging into everything. Eventually
they’ll uncover how you booked the flights, then they’ll look at the texts to
and from the number. They’ll discover we’re working together and then look at
the CCTV from the airport.”
“And all they’ll see is Pamela, Laura and I going on
holiday,” Woods pointed out.
“That’s the plan, but we still need to stay in touch
while we’re in the Seychelles, so I purchased these.” She took a couple of new
phones out of her pocket and placed one in the centre console. “We’ll use the
second set of sims; I’ve already got mine set up.”
“How will they know you’re not in the flat?”
“I’ve rigged it so it appears I am, and I’ve programed
my intercom to ring this number,” she held up her mobile, “but sooner or later
they’ll break in. There’s a limit to how long they’ll be fooled. They’ll
discover I’m not there, and then they’ll start looking for me.”
Woods frowned.
“They might check on Holly and discover Laura’s with
her,” Barnes said.
“Fingers crossed then.”
She shook her head slowly, and sighed purposely. “Crossing
your fingers is about as much use as hoping for the best. Anyway, I’ve spoken
to the girls and advised them on how to give the impression there’s only one of
them staying with their aunt.”
“You told them not to be seen together and to stay
inside as much as possible.”
“Amongst other things,” Barnes said, smiling to
herself.
They reached Woods’ house and he drove up the drive
and parked next to the back door. Barnes jumped out and went straight in,
leaving him trailing behind. When he joined her in the kitchen she was smiling.
“That’s what Laura would’ve done. She wouldn’t have waited to be shown in.
You’ll have to get used to me acting in character, particularly at the airport
when we’re being filmed on CCTV.”
“You’re awfully good, Maria. Where did you learn to
do this?”
“From now on, it’s Laura, not Maria, and what I’m
doing is common sense.”
Woods scratched his head, “Of course it is,
Laura
.
Now would you like a cup of tea before you go upstairs to pack? I understand
the girls have left you some of their holiday clothes on the bed.”
She laughed and was tempted to say
‘yes please
dad’
, but refrained. Instead she replied, “milk and two sugars, please.”
Woods parked in the multi-storey
car park at Terminal One. It was 5.20 p.m. Pamela was sitting in the passenger
seat, with Barnes in the back. He took the keys out of the ignition and turned
to Barnes. “Let’s run through this again,” he said.
She leaned forwards. “We walk into the check-in hall.
As we do I’ll hand you my case and dash off to the toilet. You and Pamela
stand, look up at the large screen with the departure information on, as though
you’re trying to locate which gate we need to go to. You then walk towards the
right of the hall and our gate is at the very far end near the toilets. After a
couple of minutes I’ll join you and we’ll check-in at Etihad’s first class
desk.”
“I appreciate the reason for this, but you’ll have a
similar problem when we go through security.”
“It’s not just about avoiding looking straight at
the camera, which is in the information screen; the people monitoring it watch
out for that. As I’ve explained, usually only seasoned travellers know which
gate they’re checking in at and therefore don’t look up at the screen. They
walk straight to their gate and stand in line. But we’re a family going on
holiday, so we need to give that impression. If I stand with you and don’t look
up, when Dudley’s chums check the footage they’ll know something’s up, but if I
look like I’m desperate for the loo and only you two stop and look, I avoid
direct eye contact with the camera and also I won’t have airport security
taking an interest in me.”
“What’s the plan as we go through security?”
“I’ll handle that. Because we’re business class
passengers we’re allowed in the express security check-in aisle, so we don’t
have to queue. We can walk straight up to the row of scanners. We place all our
bits and pieces in the trays and onto the conveyor with our hand luggage. We’ll
then, when directed, walk through the detectors and, if asked, the body
scanners. You two go through first and try to avoid looking back at me, just
follow the instructions of the security staff. I’ll be behind you avoiding the
cameras.”
“How do you know where they all are?”
“Someone in security is a good friend of mine.”
Woods scowled. “Who in security?” he asked, opening
his door.
“A good friend,” she repeated, stepping out of the
car.
“Maria, there’s nothing untoward going on here is
there?”
“It’s Laura,” she snapped. “And no of course not.
That is except for me using a false passport to exit the country.”
“Why would you know where all the security cameras
are?”
“I’m a detective, and over the years I’ve obtained a
detailed knowledge of how, where and why security cameras are located. It’s
something I’m particularly interested in; airport security is one of the most
fascinating areas of surveillance.”
Woods sighed. “Okay, come on then, let’s play happy
families.” He removed three suitcases from the boot; Pamela took one, Barnes
one, and he took hold of the largest.
“The lift’s this way,” Barnes said, heading off.
“Interested in where, why and how elevators are
located in airports are we?” Woods muttered, struggling to pull the retractable
handle up on his suitcase.
Barnes spun round; she’d heard him. “Dad, you know
I’m interested in lots of things. That’s why you love me so much.”
Woods looked at his wife who was laughing. “She
bears an uncanny resemblance to both Laura and Holly,” she said. “It must be
you who influences their behaviour.”
Woods threw the suitcase down and picked it up by
the carry handle. “Bloody thing’s broken,” he said, wandering off after Barnes.
Foster came out into the Incident
Room and looked around for McLean. “Have you seen Pete?” he asked Jacobs.
“In the loo,” Dudley replied.
“Ask him to pop in when he gets back.”
Five minutes later McLean knocked at the door.
Foster motioned for him to enter.
“I haven’t been able to speak to Maria,” Foster said.
“She’s not answering her phone. It’s continually ringing; it’s not even going
to her mailbox.”
“Bearing in mind what you told us this morning, do
you think I need to go and check on her?”
“Do you mind?”
McLean shook his head and looked at his watch. “I’m
hoping to leave around six o’ clock. I’ll call in on my way home.”
“Let me know how she is,” Foster said.
Barnes was sipping champagne in
the Etihad Escape Lounge. Woods and his wife were sitting on the leather
low-level sofa chairs next to her. Pamela also had champagne, Woods a Scotch
and lemonade.
“Cheers,” Barnes said, raising her glass and leaning
toward the other two.
They chinked glasses.
“Cheers.”
Woods grinned. “You’ve done that before.”
Barnes looked coy. “I don’t know what you are
suggesting?”
“You were really good,” Pamela said. “You selected
that particular security officer, knowing exactly how he’d react to you
flirting with him.”
Barnes smiled. “You weren’t supposed to be looking.”
“Your eyes never left contact with his,” Woods
reinforced. “And the way you stumbled going through the metal detector, well, I
thought you’d really tripped up, it was so realistic.”
“I’m just a sweet, innocent nineteen-year-old girl,
who’s going on holiday with her parents. I can’t help flirting with a young man,
becoming giddy and stumbling right at the very moment I should be looking
straight into the security camera, positioned specifically so it catches
everyone walking through the detector.”
“He even ran to help you,” Pamela said, sipping some
champagne.
“Ten out of ten,” Woods said. “You managed to turn
your back on the camera when you thanked him, and then, appearing embarrassed,
walked away holding your hand to your face.”
“I didn’t want my parents to see how silly I’d
been,” she replied, winking at Pamela.
“There is so much I don’t. . .” Woods stopped as
Barnes’ phone rang.
She picked it up and looked at the screen. Her face
turned deadly serious; she held her finger to her mouth indicating they should
be quiet.
“Hello,” she said in a croaky voice.
“Hello, Maria. It’s Pete. Is it okay to come in?”
She mouthed ‘
McLean’
silently to Woods. “Hello,
Pete. I’m sorry, I’m in bed. I’m not feeling too good. Can it wait?”
“Aye, sorry, I just wanted to know you were alright.
Foster’s been worried and trying to ring you.”
“I’ve got my phone on silent, so I can get some
peace.”
“Aye, I’ll go then. There’s just one thing. You
mentioned you’d worked it all out; could you give me a clue?”
“I’ve sent an anonymous dossier to Foster explaining
everything, but I don’t want Dudley knowing it’s come from me.”
“Aye, Foster’s been explaining all about him. I take
it you knew.”
“I worked it out for myself. They’d been following
me; that’s why I dumped the car and came back on the train.”
“Aye, they’re a set of bastards, by all accounts.”
“You don’t know the half of it. They’re monitoring
my phone; that’s what’s making me so ill. You can tell Foster the dossier’s
from me, but please do not let Dudley know.”
“Aye, don’t worry. That bastard can go to hell. As
long as you’re alright, that’s the main thing. Ring me if you need any help.”
“I will. Thanks Pete.”
“Right, I’ll let you have some peace.”
She ended the call and explained McLean’s half of
the conversation to Woods.
“So Foster’s spilled the beans to him.”
Barnes nodded, but refrained from commenting. She
was thinking about Dudley’s reaction when he was told an anonymous dossier had
been received identifying the killer.
Pauline stood looking over the
lake. The dogs were close by sniffing around, chasing and barking at the
Canadian geese. Plant was on the sun-terrace — taking advantage of the late
evening sun — watching her. She’d told him she needed to be alone with her
thoughts and wandered down to the lake. It held a special place in her heart
and was where she went when remembering Gerrard. Also keeping watch were
Simonstone, Inwood and three other protection staff, stationed at various
points around the farmhouse and grounds. Now that Plant was living with her it
had been agreed the number of protection officers could be reduced from eight
to five. In addition there were still two police officers keeping her under
surveillance and, according to Plant, several — he wouldn’t be specific — others
watching from a distance.
Pauline looked down at her reflection in the water.
The ripples ebbed and flowed as the geese bombed frantically back to the safety
of the lake, chased off the land by the dogs.
What have you done, Gerrard,
and why?
She thought.
Retaliation? Settling old scores? It’s not like
you; not the person I knew. It goes against everything you lived for,
everything you preached to me about the futility of revenge. You were the one
who always said let things go, and move on. What changed? Was it the illness,
the medication, or is there something I’m missing?
She sighed and ambled
over to her favourite tree. She remembered when the willow had blown down in
the gales; consequently it lay on its side at the edge of the lake like a
wounded animal, but the roots still gave it life, beauty and magnificence. She
jumped up and settled on the large branch where she could sit quietly lost in
thought.
Then, Isambard came running up to her, barking.
“What is it boy?” she said, puzzled by his actions.
The dog barked standing prone. “What have you seen?” she asked.
Isambard turned to the woodland and growled.
“Who is it?” she said, as the gunshot cracked across
the valley. The bullet hit the willow and a splinter of bark shot out and
caught her in the neck. She fell out of the tree to the ground and
instinctively placed a hand on her neck. It felt warm; she pulled it away and
glanced down. It was covered in blood. As she looked back at the farmhouse,
Plant, Simonstone and Inwood were running towards her. She felt woozy.
“STAY DOWN, PAULINE!” Simonstone yelled.