Final Justice (Lorne Simpkins thriller (Book Three)) (12 page)

When he opened his eyes, the girl’s head had flopped to the side, her tongue hanging out of her mouth. He pulled himself out and casually slung the girl over the side of the boat. Her lifeless body hit the water with a loud splash.

Seconds later, Baldwin was reclining on the steamer, acting as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Julio arrived on deck, out of breath, his eyes searching.

‘Problem, Julio?’

‘Umm, boss … where’s the gi—?’

‘Where’s the girl? Oh, she fancied a swim.’ He laughed.

 Julio ran to the side of the boat, first the port then the starboard. His eyes locked on to the naked girl lying face down in the water.

A scream made both men turn. The other girl looked petrified and visibly shaken. Julio moved to comfort her, but Baldwin threw out an arm blocking his way. ‘You’ve had your fun with her, now get rid.’

‘What?’

‘You heard me, unless her fucking screaming has made you deaf. Get fucking shot of her. Now.’

Chapter Twenty-Three

Despite Michel telling them their moonlight adventure would be discussed over breakfast the next morning, it wasn’t mentioned at all. The four sat around the breakfast table glaring at each other in a stony silence. But then, at nine, true to Michel’s word, a car arrived and drove them back to Charles de Gaulle Airport.

Lorne had tried talking to Michel in the reception of the hotel, but it proved to be a waste of time. She only tried the once, as the hatred filling his eyes pierced her heart and left her wondering how she could have ended up in bed with such a cold, heartless man. She shuddered when she thought that only a couple of hours before she had compared him to Jacques, the love of her life. How foolish and misguided could one woman be?

Tony spent the two-and-a-half hour flight back to London lost in his thoughts, a relief for Lorne, it meant she didn’t have to worry about empty apologies or banal conversation, and left her free to concentrate on her own confused thoughts.

After finding his car in the vast airport car park, Tony drove Lorne home. Since eating breakfast five hours ago, they’d barely spoken a word to each other. Finally, as he pulled up outside her house, Lorne had had enough.

‘I get the impression you blame me for this, Tony.’

‘For what?’

‘Don’t give me that crap. You know exactly what I’m talking about.’

‘As it happens, I’d say it was fifty-fifty.’

‘How the hell do you work that one out? It was your plan that got us kicked out of France.’

‘My plan, oh was it, now?’

She turned to look at him, her nostrils flaring with rage. ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean,
agent boy
?’

His eyes narrowed as she called him that confounded nickname again. ‘I have no doubt my plan was partially to blame, but if …’

‘Oh, don’t you dare stop there. Let’s have it, smart arse. I’ve had one of the worst journeys of my life stuck with someone I thought was a friend, who totally ignored me for five hours. Come on, lay it on the table.’ She had a feeling what Tony was going to say and prepared herself for the onslaught, her fists clenched till her knuckles turned white.

Tony stared ahead of him, and she followed his gaze to watch a mini trying to reverse into a space twice the size needed for the car, and still managing to cock it up. ‘I said it was fifty-fifty. Yes, I screwed up the plan, well kind of. I’ve still got some evidence we can work on, but if you …’ He paused, to watch the mini screw-up its second attempt to park and Lorne bashed his thigh with her clenched fist, urging him to continue. ‘All right, all right. Maybe, if you hadn’t slept with the guy things wouldn’t have gotten out of hand.’

He had a point, she’d told herself the same thing more than a couple of hundred times during their journey, but she had no intention of admitting that to him. ‘That’s utter rubbish and you know it, Tony.’

‘Is it? If he hadn’t come looking for an encore, he wouldn’t have known we were missing, would he?’

‘Did he say he’d come to my room last night?’

‘No … but …’

‘There you have it, Tony. No. For all we know he might have had the receptionist keeping an eye on us. Here’s a novel suggestion for you, he might’ve even telephoned your room with a query about the case.’

‘I doubt either one of those scenarios is correct, Lorne.’

‘Why? Because in your eyes it’s always the women who screw-up, isn’t it?’

‘Bingo, hon. But they don’t just screw up, they screw around too …’

Before he had the chance to carry on she slapped him, hard, across the face. A red mark appeared instantly and the force left her hand tingling. She couldn’t help wondering what was wrong with him, why he felt the need to be judge and jury about the way she led her life, or if there was another underlying reason behind his vicious, accusing words. Maybe a past girlfriend or his wife had done the dirty on him. If that was the case, maybe he was the type of guy who tarred all women with the same brush.  

‘I’m sorry, Tony, that was uncalled for,’ she whispered.

He shrugged and continued to watch the mini try for the fourth time to park. When that didn’t work the driver revved the engine and set off down the road. ‘Obviously a woman driver,’ he said, his dry sense of humour trying to break the tension.

‘It’s bound to be, if my parking is anything to go by,’ she chuckled.

‘I rest my case. I apologise, you had every right to hit me. I allowed my past to cloud my judgement and that should never have happened.’

So she was right, he had struck out at her because of a past experience, her interest piqued. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

He shook his head. Patted her leg and said, ‘Let me do some digging and I’ll get back to you in a few days.’

‘Digging into what?’

‘Aren’t you intrigued to know what those murdered men were doing in France? I’m not satisfied with what Amore dug up, so I’m off to HQs to do some digging of my own.’

‘But he didn’t dig
anything
up on those guys.’

‘Precisely, that seems odd to me. I’ll get back to you later, okay?’ He stepped out of the car to retrieve her overnight bag from the boot. She joined him, apologised again for hitting him, took her bag, then turned and walked up the path to her home. 

The air in the car had been frosty, but it was nothing compared to how cold the house felt when she stepped through the front door. Lorne walked through to the kitchen and turned the heating up then she boiled the kettle and poured herself a mug of coffee.

Feeling warmer she went back through to the lounge to ring her father.

‘Hi, Dad, it’s me.’

‘Lorne, how are you, sweetheart? More to the point, where are you?’

 It was a relief to hear how happy he seemed to hear her voice, while in the background, she heard Henry whimpering. ‘I’m fine, and I’m home. Is that my boy I can hear?’

‘That’s the pest, yes. And you, my girl sound tired. Have you just got back?’

‘Yep, I thought I’d ring you first. All right if I pick "pest" up in the morning, Dad?’

She chortled when she heard him let out an exaggerated sigh.

‘I suppose so. What time?’

‘I’ll be there nice and early, so don’t bother taking him out first thing. See you about nine.’

‘That’s half the morning gone by then, girl. Old Henry has been waking me up at seven expecting his daily walk. You have a lie in, love, I’ll take him tomorrow, it’ll be a farewell gift from me. Come round about twelve and we’ll go and have a nice pub lunch at the Harvester down the road, my treat.’

‘Thanks, Dad, you’re a real gem. See you tomorrow. Give Henry a cuddle and kiss from me.’

‘I’ll do no such thing. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a dozen times, it ain’t right to kiss a dog, not when they lick their own … well, you know what I mean.’

She laughed. ‘Till tomorrow, Dad.’ A quick sip of coffee gave her enough courage to tackle the next person or persons on her "to ring" list.

‘Hello … who’s speaking? And what do you want?’

She rolled her eyes when she heard the voice of her forthright fourteen-year-old daughter. ‘Well, at least you had the courtesy to say hello before you started your interrogation.’

‘Mum … Where are you? Can I come and stay? Did you bring me a gift?’

‘It’s good to hear your voice too, sweetheart. I’m back home, sorry, I didn’t have time to pick up a gift and sorry again no you can’t come and stay, it’s a school night and your father and I agreed that you could only visit at the weekend.’

She expected the teenager to groan and throw a tantrum but she didn’t, maybe the doctor was doing a better job than anyone gave her credit for. ‘Worth a try, huh, Mum? You know what they say, "God loves a trier." Can I see you at the weekend then, Mum … please?’

‘I don’t see why not, hon. Is your father there?’

Instead of handing the phone over to her father, Charlie prattled on for several minutes, talking about the latest celebrity gossip she’d read in her girly magazine, before swiftly moving on to tell her mum about what had happened in the soaps that week. Lorne found it impossible to get a word in edgeways. Finally, an out-of-breath Charlie passed the phone to her father.

When she heard his voice, Lorne’s stomach tangled in knots and she didn’t have a clue why, she knew any love she’d had for him had long since disappeared. Maybe she was still feeling tense after the argument with Tony.

‘Lorne?’

‘Hi, Tom, how’s things?’

‘Like you care. What do you want, Lorne? I’m busy.’

Same old Tom, snappy, impatient and to the point. ‘I’m sorry for interrupting you, is it all right if Charlie stays the weekend?’

‘Oh, you mean like last weekend? Oh no, that’s right, you cancelled at the last minute.’

She closed her eyes, placed her hand over the mouthpiece and expelled a long sigh.
Here we go again. Christ, if ever there was a doubt why I divorced you, you’ve just put paid to that, mate.
‘Circumstances out of my control, Tom. I had to deal with something that simply couldn’t wait.’

‘Such as?’

‘Sorry, Tom, that’s personal and as we’re no longer married— ’

‘Not that you ever told me what you were up to when we were married. That
frog
comes to mind.’

Jesus, not that old chestnut
. She bit her tongue and refused to be goaded. ‘A simple yes or no will suffice, Tom.’

‘Yes.’

The phone went dead. She went into the kitchen to knock up an omelette and found herself shaking her head in frustration all through the preparation, cooking and consumption of it.
Men, why the hell did she bother with them!

Chapter Twenty-Four

The following morning at eleven-thirty, Lorne arrived at her father’s house. Hoping no-one would notice her she dived down the side alley to peer over the fence. She had a feeling if she turned up early she would find her father playing with "the pest".

Bursting through the gate, she shouted, ‘Hah! Caught you!’

Sam Collins collapsed into a nearby deckchair, his hand flew up to his chest and he gasped for breath, ‘Jeez, Lorne … you nearly gave me a heart attack … Why didn’t you come in the front way?’

‘Oh, Dad, are you all right? I thought I’d catch you two out.’ Henry recovered from the fright quicker than her father and bounded towards her, almost knocking her to the ground in the process. ‘Hello, munchkin, did you miss your mummy?’

The dog answered by running in the opposite direction only to return a few moments later with the soggy, bone-shaped toy that had driven her father round the twist the last few days. He dropped the toy at her feet and barked expectantly.

‘Cut it out, what have I told you about not barking, pest.’ Sam chastised the dog, but Lorne could see by the laughter in his eyes, he didn’t mean his harsh words.

‘He loves his mum, don’t you, bud?’

‘Come on, enough of this, I need a drink. Let’s go to the pub before it gets too busy. You can stay here, mutt.’ He added, as Henry trotted after them.

When they walked into the pub, Lorne was delighted to see her sister Jade sitting at a table, holding her baby son. After hugging and kissing each other, Lorne took little Gino from Jade, while their father went to the bar to buy the drinks. ‘How’s the little guy doing?’ Lorne asked, as she kissed and nuzzled the baby’s neck, loving the comforting smell she found.

‘He’s getting there. The hospital is pleased with his progress, they’re monitoring his heart, sometimes he gets out of breath easy, but they say that’s normal.’

‘You look shattered, sweetie.’

Jade shrugged, her brown shoulder-length hair had a kink in it, meaning it had been left to dry naturally that morning. Lorne also noted that her sister was wearing barely any make-up, which was almost unheard of and it did little to disguise the dark circles under her eyes.

‘The joys of motherhood, eh?’

‘Are you sure that’s all it is, Jade?’ Lorne looked deep in her sister’s eyes and saw a spark lying within. ‘Come on, what’s up?’

‘Christ, once a cop always a cop, hey, sis? There are two things actually, one is …’ She looked over at the bar to make sure her father was still busy. ‘I’m pregnant, you’re the first to know, and I’d like to keep it that way for the time being. Luigi and I aren’t sure if we’re going to keep the baby. You know, after what we’ve been through with little Gino, we’re wondering if it would be fair to put another child through all that. The doctors say it’s too early to tell if the baby has the same heart defect.’

Bouncing Gino on her knee, Lorne stretched a hand across the table to cover her sister’s. ‘How awful. I mean, of course, I’m pleased for you, but what a dilemma for you both. All I can say is take your time, don’t make any rash decisions you might regret later, any choice you make, you know you’ll have my full backing, hon.’

‘Thanks, Lorne, and, the second thing is, Judith rang me a couple of days ago.’

Lorne’s attention turned to Gino again and she bounced him harder on her knee, while she struggled to search for an answer to the question she knew her sister was going to ask next.