Deadly Deceit (11 page)

“Yes, of course, I have. I got back late last night, and left early this morning. Must’ve forgotten to check the machine.”

He sounded unusually tense, which wasn’t like Simon. He was always cheerful, annoyingly so sometimes. “Anything wrong?” she asked.

There was a pause. “Everything’s fine.”

He didn’t sound fine, but she let it go. “Well, I’ve got this new mobile now, so you can ring me anytime you like.”

“I heard about the Governor’s accident on the news,” he said. “That’s why I was so worried.”

“Yes, I did mention it in my voicemail last night. It’s been a real shock for everyone here.”

“I phoned our Consulate in Miami earlier to see how he was getting on,” he said. “They say he’s still critical.”

“He’s in a coma apparently.” She paused. “It was a strange accident though.”

“Why? What makes you say that?”

She wasn’t sure herself. “Well, the Governor was driving himself, in the early hours of the morning, when a truck smashed into him.”

“So what’s unusual about that?”

“Well, the police think the truck was stolen from the local supermarket just before the accident. It was a hit and run. But they haven’t found the truck, and they’ve no idea who was driving it.”

“Kids out joyriding, I expect.”

“Mm. Maybe.” She paused. “I don’t know why, but it just doesn’t feel right somehow.”

“Well, I hear from the Washington folk that it’s not an easy Territory to govern. They’re a maverick bunch down there.”

Simon wasn’t telling her anything that she hadn’t worked out for herself. She wanted to tell him about Mrs Pearson’s murder, and about the tales of voodoo, but something stopped her. He sounded stressed. Was that because she’d come down to work here? Or something else?

“Is David Evans still there?” he asked.

“No, he left this morning.”

“So you’re on your own?” He sighed again. “Honestly, Jess, you do manage to get yourself into some tricky situations. I’m afraid I can’t come down to help you.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“But how will you manage on your own?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not on my own. The Governor’s PA Sally is here and our local staff. We’ll be fine.” In truth, she felt anything but fine, but she wouldn’t say so. “You sure everything’s all right?” she asked again.

“Yes,” he said, quietly. “I’m just busy, that’s all. I’ve… er, I’ve got to fly to Los Angeles this evening to cover a couple of meetings for the Ambassador.”

Jess knew Simon had a busy job as First Secretary Political in the Washington Embassy. He travelled a lot around the States, attending conferences, and meeting high profile figures. He often represented the Ambassador on these occasions. “Oh, I see. Will you ring me when you get there?”

There was a pause. “I’ve got a whole series of meetings lined up. I’m going to be pushed for time over the next couple of days.”

Surely not too tied up to phone or send a quick text, she thought. But she didn’t want to put him under any more pressure, and said nothing.

He added quickly. “Look, can you just tick things over down there until London send reinforcements, as I’m sure they will in the circumstances?”

“What else would I do?” she asked, lightly.

“You do tend to throw yourself into everything, Jess.”

“Throw myself into everything?”

“You know what I mean,” he said. “Well, I’ve got to go home and pack before getting on that plane.”

“Right, well, I hope it goes well in LA.”

“Take care,” he said, softly. “See you soon, Jess.” And with that he was gone.

Jess sat staring at the phone. That was the strangest conversation she’d ever had with Simon. It was almost as if they didn’t know what to say to each other. They’d sounded more like colleagues than lovers. There was something up with him, she could sense it.

She sat back in the seat and looked out to sea. It was so beautiful, she wished Simon could see it too. The trouble with him was that he worked too hard. Never mind what he said about her, he was the workaholic in the family. What he needed was a good break. She’d try and persuade him to come for a holiday the next time they spoke. It would do him good.

She started up the engine again and set off for the Governor’s Office. As she drove along, she was so lost in her thoughts she soon found herself in unfamiliar territory, and pulled up outside some gates. The sign said it was the Government Garage. Great, she thought, she’d have a quick look at the Governor’s car while she was there.

She drove through the gates and pulled up in a gravel courtyard. With the sun now gone and the light fading, it was all pretty gloomy. Ahead, she could see three timber garages, or sheds, all standing in a row, on the far side of the courtyard. To the left stood a small brick building which looked like some kind of office.

She grabbed her bag, got out of the car and went over to the office. She poked her head in the door. There was a desk cluttered with papers, but no sign of anyone. She walked across the gravel courtyard, over to the nearest garage. Its doors stood half open, and she looked inside. A car was up on the ramp, and tools strewn about underneath. Still no-one.

“Hello?” she called out. “Anyone here?”

No reply. She walked back outside. Where was everyone? They wouldn’t go home and leave the garages open and their tools out, surely? She suddenly felt uncomfortable walking around the place and going into all the garages without permission. Still, it was the Government Garage, she told herself, and she did work for the Government.

The doors to the next garage were closed. She went over, lifted the latch, and pulled them open. It was dark inside, with no windows. She didn’t need much light to know the vehicle was the Governor’s wrecked Land Rover.

As she stood looking at the mangled metal, and smelt the burning residue, her heart started racing. Memories came flooding back. She could see her Amy and Jack being ripped apart by the explosion and flames as they sat trapped in the car. She struggled to push the image out of her head.
Don’t go there!
she told herself over and over.
Not now!

Resisting the urge to run out, she took a deep breath and opened the garage doors wide to let in the last of the daylight. Then she forced herself to inspect the car.

The driver’s door, and passenger door behind, had taken the full impact of the collision. No wonder the police thought a truck had hit it. All four wheels had collapsed on their axles, and the paintwork was burnt. None of the windows had any glass in them. She noticed there was no glass on the garage floor either, which made the clean-up job at the crash site even more impressive.

How on earth had the Governor got out of that alive, she wondered? The driver’s door was completely buckled in, so he must have climbed over and somehow got out the front passenger door.

She pulled her camera out of her bag to take some photos and email them to London. They needed to see the intensity of the crash. It was so dark in the garage, she put the setting on automatic to enable the flash if necessary. As she moved around the Land Rover, photographing it from every angle, she was surprised to see so much of the inside of the vehicle burnt out, as well as the boot.

She felt guilty about taking photographs with no-one around, and was eager to get away. Quickly, she closed the garage doors, leaving them in the same position she’d found them, and got back into her car. Her hands were shaking as she gripped the wheel and put the gear in drive. That burnt out car had disturbed feelings she thought were well under control. She glanced in the driver mirror and saw her face was wet with tears. She wiped them away, sadly, and drove on.

*

By the time she got back to the office, everyone had gone home, and the building was in darkness. There was no external security lighting on either. Why was everyone so relaxed about security on this island, she thought, crossly? She parked the car, let herself in with David’s keys, and flicked on the lights.

On her desk, Sally had left a message from the Police Commissioner. He wanted Jess to attend a hurricane planning meeting in Provo the following morning. It had been postponed twice already, and was now urgent because the hurricane season had started. He would be happy to chair the meeting in the Governor’s absence, as Jess was new to the island.

Jess re-read it with irritation. What about Mrs Pearson’s murder? Not even a
mention
of that, and she’d been waiting hours for him to phone with more details for her to report to London.

Sally had left a postscript on the note to say she’d booked Jess a seat on the 9am flight to Provo in the morning, in case she wanted to go.

Jess was in two minds about going. It would be a good opportunity to see Provo and meet some people over there, but she didn’t want to leave Sally and the local staff here on their own.

She heard the bleep of a text message and opened it.

I’ve phoned the police about Benji and his collar. They’re sending an officer round now. I’ll keep in touch. Rebekah.

Jess was pleased Rebekah had done that. At least the police were taking it seriously and sending an officer round. She picked up the telephone directory to call the Police Commissioner. But when she tried to make the call, she found the switchboard was shut down. Using her mobile to phone the central police station, she got a recorded message saying they were closed for the night. There was an emergency number, but she decided she couldn’t ring that. She’d have to phone again in the morning. She’d make sure she got his mobile number then too.

She yawned and rubbed her tired eyes. She’d had enough for one day. Swivelling round to her computer, she scrolled to her inbox to check her emails before going back to the Residence.

Dear Jess,

Great – we’re on. I’ll be on the Trans Air flight 556 from Miami to Provo tomorrow, arriving at 4pm. There’s a domestic flight to Grand Turk at 5pm, so I’ll catch that and get over to you for about 5.30pm. Hope that’s okay? If there’s any delay, I’ll call. What’s your mobile number?

Look forward to catching up tomorrow.

All good wishes, Tom.

Jess smiled, happy to finally get one piece of good news. She pressed reply.

Dear Tom,

That’s fine. As it happens, I shall be in Provo tomorrow and will meet you on arrival at Provo airport. We can travel back to Grand Turk together on the 5pm flight. Do please ring my mobile number 09807 103476 if there are any problems.

Look forward to seeing you too.

Best wishes, Jess.

It would be good to have a friendly face around, she thought, and a policeman. She remembered her first meeting with Tom. He’d been so offhand at the time, but he’d turned out to be rather kind under that gruff exterior. And she treasured that lovely sketch he’d done of Amy from an old photo. He’d captured her little face and spirit so well.

As memories of that brutal time in Brisbane came flooding back, she felt a chill shiver up her spine. That had all started with a woman’s murder too, and ended up with four people losing their lives.

It couldn’t possibly be happening again, could it?

The humid night air wrapped around her as Jess stepped out of the office front door. She peered along the drive. There wasn’t a single light along the way to the Residence. Now she knew why there were torches strategically placed on tables at the front and back doors of the house. She only wished she’d picked one up on the way out.

Adjusting her eyes to the dark, she started to walk the couple of hundred yards to the house. It was a lovely night, with hardly a breath of air. The sky was covered with stars, although she couldn’t identify the constellations from this unfamiliar location.

Her stomach grumbled. It was already 8pm. It had taken her ages to send a report to London about Mrs Pearson’s murder, because she was so unfamiliar with the operation of the classified telegram system in the office. She’d got it off eventually. But she was still cross with the Police Commissioner for not phoning her.

As she walked along, apart from the chirruping crickets and waves lapping onto the shore in the distance, the only noise was the sound of her shoes crunching on the drive’s sandy gravel. Even the spiky leaves of the dwarf palms were silent in the still air. Taller trees couldn’t survive the hurricane-force winds that battered these islands.

Now, she could see the Residence. It was in total darkness, except for the light from the chandelier on the top landing. The house had a forlorn look about it. It should be the centre of island life, she thought, full of people and parties. Had it been like that once? What secrets could it tell?

A dark shape swooped across her path. Oh God, bats! Goosebumps rose along her back and arms.

That’s when she heard the crunch of a footstep behind her. It was just one crunch, but definitely a footstep! She looked over her shoulder, but couldn’t see anyone. Heart quickening, she ran down the rest of the drive, and around the verandah to the back of the house. Seeing the light on in the kitchen, she ran across the courtyard and burst through the kitchen door.

“Oh!” Maggie, who’d been dozing in the rocking chair, jumped up.

“Sorry Maggie.” Jess was breathing hard. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What’s wrong, Miss Jessica?”

Jess felt foolish now. “Oh, I … er, I thought I heard someone following me down the drive in the dark.”

Maggie frowned. “Who was it?” she asked, sharply.

“I don’t know. I didn’t stop to find out.”

Maggie went over to the back door and turned the key in the lock. Then she went to the window and looked out.

“Can you see anyone?” Jess asked.

Maggie shook her head.

“Sorry.” Jess sighed. “It was probably the bat that spooked me. I can’t stand them.” She smiled at Maggie now. “Anyway, what are you still doing here?”

“Waiting for you, Miss Jessica,” Maggie said, as if it was obvious. “I’ve cooked your supper.”

Jess felt both grateful and guilty. When Maggie said she would prepare some supper for her, she’d assumed she meant something for her to cook or heat up herself when she got back.