The Half Truth (22 page)

John almost tripped over the threshold as he staggered into the back garden. He tried desperately to ignore the memories of the fateful day.

‘John!’ It was Neil’s voice. The security fencing rattled as Neil shook it, trapped on the outside of the building site. ‘Oi! Armed police!’

Sasha paused and turned his head to look towards where the voice was coming from. John felt a slight relax in Sasha’s hold and seized the moment. With a two-handed shove, he threw the Russian to the ground.

‘There’s a gap just down there!’ shouted John, pointing towards the far end of the fencing.

Neil ran the twenty metres or so to the opening, his gun drawn and aimed at Sasha. John pulled Sasha to his feet by the scruff of his jacket collar.

‘You’ve got exactly five seconds to make your mind up, or I’m throwing you to the lions and that goes for your wife and baby too.’

The first shot rang out and screamed past John’s ear. What the hell was Neil playing at shooting at him? In the next second he realised that it couldn’t have been Neil who fired, the shot had come from the other direction. His pushed Sasha to the ground and simultaneously threw himself into the dust, drawing his gun at the same time.

The third shot came from Neil’s gun; the bullet whistling above John, missing its target on the other side.

The fourth shot made contact. John yelled in pain as a searing heat bore into the flesh of his shoulder. He dropped his gun as he writhed in pain. It was only for a second or two but it was long enough.

Neil shouted his name, distracted momentarily. It was all the distraction needed. Pavel Bolotnikov stepped out from behind a concrete pillar and aimed his gun straight at Neil. The semi-automatic pistol sent three rounds to its intended target.

John shook his head, he gasped for breath, throwing his head up to the sky above him. The red blood seemed to stain his vision, everything around him looked crimson.

‘John! John. It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay. I’m here.’

He could hear Tina’s voice to his left. He turned his head towards her. Her face blurred in front of him. He forced himself to fix on her eyes and listen to her soothing voice of reassurance. Gradually, the distortion faded, the red paled to pink and then washed away to white. It took a supreme effort of concentration on his part, but finally the world around him came back.

He rested his hands on his knees, dipping his head. He felt Tina’s hand on his back, firm yet gentle, small circular movements of reassurance.

‘I’m okay,’ he said, straightening himself up. ‘Really, I’m fine now.’ The look on her face told him she probably didn’t believe him.

‘Let’s sit here,’ she said, guiding him towards the garden bench. ‘What happened that day, John? What is it that tortures you so much?’

John sat down on the bench. His automatic reaction, one honed by years of practice, was to brush the incident off. To put it down to feeling unwell or a hangover or having eaten something that didn’t agree with him. He had told the lie so many times, for so long, he almost believed it himself. It was far easier than having to face up to the real cause.

Something today stopped him. He realised that he had to tell the truth sooner or later. Tina deserved to know what happened that day. She needed to know for her own peace of mind, so that there were no longer any unanswered questions stopping her from moving on. She also needed to know so that she knew everything about him. If he didn’t confess, then there would always be a secret between them.

It was a gamble, an ember of hope. She might never want to see him again, but he knew they had no future while there was a secret between them.

She looked expectantly at him. Pale-blue eyes rested on him. Her face, as always, so easy to read, so open; no shutters hiding her thoughts and feelings.

She listened as he relayed the events of that day to her. Patiently she sat next to him. Her hand a constant reassuring touch, moving from his back and to his head. He felt her body wince as he came to the part where he had chased and cornered Sasha. There was a deep sigh of sadness as he recounted the scuffle. A shake of the head, despair and resignation filtering across her face, emphasised by a dull pain in her eyes. And finally, a sharp intake of breath at Pavel firing the gun. Then her whole body stiffened as she learned of Pavel and Sasha taking flight.

‘I’m sorry,’ said John. ‘Truly, I am.’

She gripped his hand harder. ‘What are you sorry for? You were doing your job. I understand that. I may not like what you have to do or how you have to do it, but I do understand it comes with the territory.’

‘If I hadn’t pushed Sasha into becoming an informer, then he and I would never have been at that building site having that conversation. Neil would never have been there and Pavel wouldn’t have been either. You were right when you said I put Sasha in an untenable position.’

‘But you were also right when you said that ultimately, Sasha was responsible. He made the wrong choice at the very outset. I can see that now. I was wrong blaming you.’

‘You’re a very understanding woman, do you know that?’ Not for the first time, the breadth of her compassion and understanding, amazed him. ‘If I can bring Pavel in and charge him for murder, then I can at least have some sort of closure. I can give his wife some feeling of justice.’

‘Is it justice or forgiveness you’re looking for?’

God, she was perceptive.

‘Truthfully? Both.’ He paused before he spoke again. ‘From Neil’s wife … and …’ He couldn’t finish the sentence. It was too much to ask. She didn’t deserve to be put on the spot like that.

‘And from me.’ A statement, not a question.

He gave a small nod, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. He needed to see what she was really thinking, what she was feeling. Her look could say so much more than her words. He saw his answer before he heard it.

‘I forgive you. I really do.’ She held him and he felt like a child. He clung to her, a sob escaping his throat. ‘I understand the reasons behind the … the deceit. And I’m trying really hard, so very hard, to accept it. But, I do forgive you, John.’

At the sound of the back door opening and Dimitri’s voice calling out to his mother, John and Tina pulled apart. John drew his forefinger and thumb together under his eyes to remove any trace of tears.

Dimitri stood in front of them. He cocked his head sideways looking at John.

‘Your eyes are all red,’ he said.

‘Hay fever,’ said John, then stopped. ‘Actually, that’s not quite true. I was feeling a bit sad, but I’m okay now.’

‘Were you crying?’

John exchanged a look with Tina, a small smile of compassion rested on her mouth. John turned his attention back to Dimitri. ‘Yes, I was. Only a little, but your Mummy made me feel better.’ He forced a smile of reassurance.

‘Mummy gave me a plaster when I was sad and hurt myself.’

‘I needed a hug.’

‘Okay.’ Dimitri seemed satisfied. ‘Can we play football now?’

‘Yeah, sure.’ John smiled at the boy. He was glad he had been honest with him. Kids could be very accepting, this one, clearly, inheriting the trait from his mother. ‘There is one thing I wanted to say, while we are all here.’ He put a hand out to draw Dimitri further into them. The five-year-old sat himself on John’s knee. ‘I have to go away for a couple of weeks. It’s to do with work, but when I get back, I’d like to come and see you both again. If that’s okay?’

‘Work? A couple of weeks?’ Tina said, a look of alarm crossed her face. ‘A new case?’

John sighed. He wanted to be honest with her, but this was work and at this stage he couldn’t. He looked apologetically at Tina.

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.’ She waved her hand as if clearing the air of the question hanging between them.

Dimitri jumped up. ‘Let’s play football!’ He ran across the grass to the shed. ‘I’ll get the ball. You be in goal, John.’

‘Go on, John. Get in goal,’ said Tina, a smile tipped the corners of her mouth. ‘Do as you’re told.’

John jogged across the grass to where Dimitri was now waiting with the blue plastic football. His steps may have been light, but his heart was heavy. She hadn’t answered his question. Perhaps he had misjudged it all?

Tina stood at the kitchen window watching John and Dimitri play football. The look of pleasure on her son’s face warmed her heart. The two of them looked so happy and natural together, it was a mutual friendship. Having a male role model was good for Dimitri. She acknowledged that John wasn’t perfect, but then she wasn’t naïve enough to believe that there was such thing as perfect. She might have done once upon a time, but not any more. Perfect was overrated. Good, happy, content were worth just as much; they were honest. Perfect wasn’t.

She thought of Rozalina and Nikolay and wondered what the future held for them. Relying on John’s boss organising the money wasn’t ideal but it was the only option. She picked up the photograph John had given her of Nikolay and took it into the living room. She wanted to keep it safe. One day she would show it to Dimitri and explain about his half-brother.

Tina opened the back of the photo frame with a picture of her and Sasha and tucked Nikolay behind them. A symbolic gesture of merging the two lives of Sasha, she decided. She went to put the frame back on the mantelpiece, but hesitated. Instead she placed it on the bookcase in the fireplace recess. No longer the focal point of her life. Another symbolic gesture.

As she turned away, the sun emerged from behind a cloud. It streamed in through the window and the sun-catcher, spreading a shimmering sea of colours across the room. Sparkles of silver bounced off the mirror above the fireplace. The words Sasha had written on the postcard of Windermere came back to her.

And the sun’s rays reflected back from the water like gems of tears.

‘You look miles away.’

She turned at John’s voice and smiled at him. ‘Do I? Mind wandering, that’s all.’

‘Sure?’

She hesitated. So far she hadn’t mentioned the second postcard, more because she had forgotten about it than a deliberate omission. She thought about leaving it that way, but immediately corrected herself. No more secrets.

‘In the safe-deposit box … there was something else.’

John raised his eyebrows. ‘Do I want to know about this?’

‘It was a postcard.’

‘Another one? Any cryptic messages this time?’

‘Don’t joke.’ She scanned the room for her handbag, locating it on the armchair. She paused with her hand in her bag. ‘Where’s Dimitri?’

‘He’s now burying his ball in the sand pit. Apparently, I need to practise my goal-keeping skills as it makes it too easy for him.’ John gave a grin. ‘That will teach me to go easy on him.’

Tina laughed. ‘Nothing to do with you actually being rubbish in goal, then?’

‘Certainly not.’

The conversation came to a halt. Tina looked at John, his smile distracted her. He spoke first. ‘Are you going to stand there all day with your hand in your bag or is there something you wanted to show me. You know, like a postcard?’

‘Oh, what? Sorry. Yes, here.’ She retrieved the card and handed it over to John. ‘I’ve no idea what he means, but I was simply standing here and the light from the sun-catcher caught my eye and it reminded me of the postcard.’

John looked up at the window. ‘What’s the connection?’

‘The card, it’s of Lake Windermere. We went there on our honeymoon.’ She turned to the window as well. ‘We bought the sun-catcher in a little gift shop there.’

She watched John re-read the card. ‘And it doesn’t mean anything to you, what’s written here?’

Tina shook her head. ‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing.’

‘Gems of tears. That’s an odd expression. I don’t think I’ve heard that before.’

‘Neither have I, but sometimes words and expressions used to get a bit lost in translation with Sasha. He might have misquoted something he’d once heard or read.’

John looked thoughtful. He studied the card for a third time and then went over to the window. Tina watched him lift the sun-catcher down and inspect it thoroughly.

‘It’s only a cheap gift. It’s not worth anything,’ she said.

John seemed to spend a long time examining the glass trinket. He glanced up from under his eyelashes and raised an eyebrow.

‘What?’ said Tina.

John didn’t reply. He held the sun-catcher up to the window, the light once more streamed through the coloured glass. He turned it over and back again, then tucking the postcard under his arm he picked with his finger at the glass stones glued to the blue glass.

‘Has this ever been broken and repaired?’ he asked.

Tina came to stand beside him, looking over his shoulder as he ran his finger over the glass.

‘No, not that I’m aware of.’

‘And nothing looks different about it to how it looked when you first bought it?’

‘Not that I remember. We used to have it on the wall behind the counter at the deli. When I moved here I packed it away and forgot about it for a long time. It wasn’t until I was going through some boxes about a year ago that I found it and hung it up.’

John nodded. He read from the card again. ‘And the sun’s rays reflected back from the water like gems of tears.’ He looked at her. ‘You don’t get it, do you?’

‘No.’ She felt frustrated. ‘You obviously do, but then you are the detective.’

‘Gems of tears,’ said John. ‘What are gems?’

‘Precious stones.’

‘Such as …’

‘Diamonds, rubies, sapphires … come on, John.’

‘Tears. You cry when you are sad. Tears can look like little gemstones. I’m thinking diamonds.’ He ran his finger along the glittering stones glued to the sun catcher.

Tina’s hand shook as John passed it to her. ‘You think these are diamonds?’

‘Remember, I said that money was taken during the robbery?’ He paused while Tina nodded. ‘Well, initially it was thought that other items were stolen as well. Like jewellery and precious stones. However, they were never listed on the final report. The victims of the crime decided not to admit to having anything else stolen other than money. Probably because they had come by those things in a dubious manner themselves or had no proof of officially owning them.’

Tina looked up at John. ‘But there were and somehow Sasha ended up with them?’

John shrugged. ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’

Tina pushed the sun-catcher to John. ‘You’ll be wanting this to hand in too, like the money.’

John took a step back. ‘I can’t do that. There’s no proof that that’s where they came from. They weren’t reported missing so, therefore, can’t be returned. They belong to you.’

‘They do?’ Tina’s mind rushed ahead. ‘So, if they are technically mine, then, technically, I can do what I like with them.’

John smiled. ‘Whatever you like.’

‘I can sell them?’

‘If that’s what you want to do. And, if it helps, I know someone who would be happy to take them off your hands.’

‘You do?’

‘Yeah. A guy called Baz. He lives in Ireland now but he used to own a café in London.’

‘And he will buy diamonds?’

‘He’s got contacts. I’ve known him a long time. In a professional capacity.’

‘I think this may be one occasion where I don’t really want to know the whole truth.’

‘I think you may be right.’ Tina looked down at the sun-catcher. The excitement of the discovery faded and a warm feeling of realisation took its place. ‘I can help Nikolay after all.’

John’s phone vibrated and sounded out, the ring tone breaking the silence that had fallen between them. He pulled it from his pocket, looking at the screen.

‘Sorry, I need to take this.’

Tina went down to the kitchen to give him some privacy and to check on Dimitri.

His dark head was bent as he knelt in the sandpit, happily pushing a plastic seaside spade into the sand, withdrawing a scoop and letting the yellow grains cascade over the football.

She turned as John came in to the kitchen.

‘Look, I need to get off. Work,’ he said. He went out into the garden and again Tina looked on from the window. She watched John crouch down next to Dimitri. They appeared to be chatting, before John ruffled her son’s hair and made his way back into the kitchen. ‘Let me know if you want me to arrange someone to look at those diamonds.’

‘Can you take them with you now and sort it before you go away?’ She didn’t want to waste any time. ‘I want to get it sorted as soon as possible and then you can tell your boss not to worry. I don’t suppose they will argue with you, seeing as they aren’t keen on the idea anyway.’ She wrapped the sun-catcher in kitchen towel and handed it over to John. ‘I’ll text you over the bank details of the clinic. You can pay the money straight in. If there’s any left over, send it to Rozalina. She doesn’t have to know it’s from me. You can tell her it’s from Sasha.’

‘Nothing else?’

Tina considered for a moment. ‘Actually, if she asks, tell her the truth. If it was me, I’d want to know.’

John leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the head. ‘Take care of yourself, Tina.’

A sudden feeling of panic swamped her. He was going. Possibly forever. She hadn’t answered his question earlier. ‘John, wait.’ She put her hand on his arm. ‘You be careful too. Ring me.’

‘I can’t, I’ll be working.’

‘No, I mean when you get back. Call me. I’d like to see you again.’

He studied her, his eyes measuring every inch of her face, every ounce of her body language analysed. ‘You sure?’

‘Positive.’