Way beyond a lie, p.33
Way Beyond A Lie, page 33
‘I’ll tell him.’
She gave Ross a little wave as she stepped onto the bus, almost tripping over her bags.
As the bus pulled away, he leaned back on the shelter and belted out a sigh that could have been heard clean across the busy road. ‘Jesus. That was close.’
Then he remembered he hadn’t taken a photo of Celia Luckhurst for the record. Hey ho. You can’t have everything. Walking back towards the car, he could feel his heartbeat was falling to within normal tolerances, and his hands had almost stopped shaking.
Leona’s list was now down to twenty-three addresses.
The fifty-four miles from Cheltenham to the next address would only take Ross about an hour and a half even if he used minor roads for part of the journey. Truth was, he was fed up to the back teeth of motorways and dual carriageways. It wasn’t yet eight o’clock, but he wouldn’t reach Devizes, a small market town perched on the northern edge of the Salisbury Plain, by nine, the latest time he and Martin believed most people would be heading out for the day. So breakfast became his first priority.
On Saturday, two days away, Martin would be flying into Bristol before returning home from Gatwick. All things being equal, Ross hoped he’d tick off three or possibly four addresses before hooking up with his friend but that depended on a host of factors, most of them out of his control.
The most thunderous cloud on his horizon was the possibility he’d actually find Carla. Ross knew that Oliver, his colleagues, Martin and the twins were all working on the assumption he was putting himself through all this because he was determined to run Carla to ground. But, as time passed, as he scored more addresses off, in his heart he was now quite certain that locating his thieving, deceitful wife was the last thing he wanted. On the contrary, if he could have turned back the clock he’d have stuck to his guns and told Oliver where to put his stupid list. Eventually he’d have swallowed the crushing pain of what was surely the last treacherous act of Carla’s betrayal.
But he’d acted in haste and was now repenting at leisure. As a result, his overriding aim was to reach the end of the list as quickly as possible, confirm she wasn’t any of the women living in these houses and return home to get on with his life. Of course he was still devastated at the loss of his family’s jewellery, that wouldn’t ever disappear completely. But his anger was gradually diminishing as his quest progressed. He just didn’t possess the stamina to maintain it. Or was it the balls? Would even the slightest setback encourage him to take the cowardly option and bail out? He rationalised all these arguments by convincing himself there was no chance of recovering the jewels. They were long gone so why go through the pain?
He would never confess to all this internal agonising, of course. He didn’t want to fail or disappoint anyone, especially given how much effort and emotion they’d invested to support him. And he preferred not to think of how much money had been spent. Martin in particular was well out of pocket. Luckily he’s not short of a bob or two, Ross reflected, then immediately indulged in a prolonged bout of self-flagellation for allowing that uncharitable thought even to approach the outskirts of his mind.
The morning was becoming increasingly warm and sunny, and the country road taking him south from Cheltenham passed through some gloriously picturesque villages and hamlets, typical of this part of the world. Whatever anyone says about the English, there’s no denying they do villages really well.
Driving through Colesbourne he spotted an inn with tables outside in full sunlight. A sign in chalk on a blackboard proclaimed:
Full English £5.99 – includes tea / coffee and toast
‘That’ll do just dandy,’ he said to his rear-view mirror as he reversed into a space. While he was slogging through a plate piled high with every fried breakfast constituent known to man, he decided he deserved some time out from sitting in that damn car. Just across the road was a green metal heritage signpost that pointed to a two mile walk along the River Churn. It was still only ten o’clock so he reasoned he could easily justify an hour for a head-clearing walk, especially given the amount of time he had spent in the car the previous day and the rather fraught start he’d had to the morning.
Wandering downstream along the river bank he reflected on the Luckhurst’s flat back in Cheltenham, and how he’d been unable to spy on it as easily as the others. He pondered if he might be able to predict the settings of his target houses for the day. Alex had shown him how to use Google Earth but when he checked out his own street, it turned out the area was still a construction site. He looked up a couple of other places like Edinburgh’s New Town and the street in Leith where he’d been brought up but the novelty had quickly worn off. He wasn’t even sure he could access it from his iPad but thought he would experiment with it later on.
While he was thinking about the iPad he wondered what would come up if he Googled the addresses. If they’d had any building work done recently, perhaps there would be architects’ drawings or land registry information.
Then there was satnav. Did it possess any other features that might help? Martin’s car was the first time he’d ever been exposed to the navigational aid so, again, he didn’t know what it was capable of. Worth a quick look, I suppose.
Ross had just reached the halfway point on his walk, and was about to turn and head back to the village, when he met a young woman pushing a buggy in the opposite direction. The screaming child it contained was in stark contrast to the peaceful rural setting. He smiled as he stood aside to let her pass but she ignored his cheerful, ‘Good morning.’ Leaving them to get well away, he sat down on a tree stump. It was a good opportunity to return Oliver’s call.
After the standard opening pleasantries and a quick update on progress since they’d last spoken, Ross told Oliver about Alex. While the other man was sympathetic, he thought Ross was correct to break off the relationship. Oliver agreed there was no proof that Alex was this mythical secondary operative but the fact she’d been caught impersonating her deceased sister certainly placed a decent sized question mark against her.
But Oliver hadn’t called the previous day just for a chat. It was to tell Ross that two days earlier, one of the women he and Martin had photographed in Cheshire a couple of weeks before, had been arrested by the police and charged with carrying out a fraudulent activity. Sadly, the man she had originally defrauded had been the one who died after falling from a ladder the previous year so no one benefitted from her arrest, apart from the poor soul she was setting up this time around. Ross was quietly pleased to have played his part but strangely, it only confirmed that his desire to track Carla down was waning fast.
He ended the call, stood up and stretched. He was enjoying the late summer sunshine and he wouldn’t have taken much persuasion to tarry a while longer but it was time he was on the move.
Back in the car he tried Googling the Devizes address but apart from confirming its postcode, no other useful information came up. But, fiddling around with the Audi’s multi-media centre, he unearthed a diamond the size of his fist. Martin, bless him, had installed a SIM and enabled Google Street View. Ross thought it was odd his pal hadn’t mentioned it but the SQ5 was fitted with so many bells and whistles, he figured Martin couldn’t be conversant with them all. He’d only had the car a few months. About a quarter of an hour later, with the help of the vehicle handbook and a YouTube video, the media screen was displaying an image of 38 South Downs Crescent, Devizes. Just wait until I tell him. Ross could probably have slotted a banana into the grin that decorated his face, he was so chuffed with himself. The screen showed a modern mock-Tudor mini-mansion complete with turret, leaded windows that were unlikely to be genuine, and what he suspected was fake grass. All it was missing was a moat, drawbridge and portcullis, which would have had to be plastic to match the overall effect.
Unfortunately, that turned out to be the highlight of the next twenty-four hours. Parked with an uninterrupted view of the house, Ross’s early impression was that no one was home, and nothing around the place gave any indication that was likely to change. Everything was just too neat, too well-ordered. Then he noticed all the blinds had been pulled down to the same level, one-third of the way down each window. These guys are away, aren’t they? Not long after dusk, lights in two of the downstairs rooms came on, followed a while later by one upstairs. Over the next hour or so, the house did a reasonable job of pretending it contained humans, as different rooms were lit then plunged back into darkness, sometimes within just a few minutes. The only trouble was, even a passing glance would have proved conclusively that the inhabitants were conspicuous by their absence.
While he was sitting there, he thought some more about the woman who’d been arrested in Cheshire. He considered telling Mel about her. Perhaps she would liaise with her colleagues in that jurisdiction to see if they could prove a connection between the two cases.
Gail had shown him how to disguise his number when making calls. One of the potential downsides was the recipient might choose not to pick up. But he was lucky this time.
‘Mel Cooper.’
‘Oh, hi Mel. It’s Ross McKinlay here.’
‘Hi, Ross. Sorry, your number wasn’t displayed. How are you doing?’
‘I’m fine, thanks. Listen, do you have five minutes for a chat?’
‘I do. What’s up?’
He related his story. According to Oliver, the woman’s name was Sylvi Hutchinson but, apart from an address in Wilmslow and the fact she had been arrested on the Tuesday for crimes similar to Carla’s, he couldn’t give Mel any more information than that. He finished by suggesting she might consider it worthwhile comparing notes with her counterparts down south.
‘You could be right, Ross. If I’m honest with you, I’ll be surprised if anything comes of it. But I’ll give them a bell and let you know.’
‘Thanks, Mel. Appreciate it.’
‘No problem. But before you rush off, may I ask how you found out about this woman? Was it in the papers?’
Ross put his hand on his forehead, he hadn’t worked this through. ‘I, em, heard about it from a friend. I’m not sure where they got it from but they called me, em, yesterday so I thought I’d let you know.’
‘Not particularly convincing, Mr McKinlay, I have to say. But leave it with me and I’ll get back to you.’
‘I’ll need to give you my number.’
‘That won’t be necessary, Ross.’ Mel’s words were drenched in sarcasm.
He closed his eyes and had to work hard to keep his tone light and airy. ‘Okay, Mel. Thanks. Speak to you later.’
As the evening wore on and boredom settled on him like a shroud sewn from chain mail, he was tempted to pack it in and find a hotel. But he remembered what Oliver had said about this being vital drudge work so he stuck it out. He became rather obsessed with the people who owned this house, and their elaborate attempts to indicate it was occupied. He amused himself by penning an open letter:
Dear housebreakers, cat burglars and miscreants of nefarious intent,
We are uncertain if people in your profession still ‘case the joint’. Assuming you do, you could probably drive past our house at twice the speed of light and still have time to figure out we’re away on holiday. Truth is, we couldn’t make up our minds on the best look to fool you guys. Leave the blinds fully open? Shut them all, or just some of them? Nothing seemed right so we’ve opted for the part-way-closed disguise. You’ll notice the missus is a bit OCD as they’re all closed to exactly the same level. Millimetric precision, don’t you think?
We really hope you like our light show. We gave the kids free rein to set timers all over the house. They really went to town, didn’t they? Bless ‘em.
Anyway, the house will look exactly like this until next Saturday so, please, come on in.
Signed,
The Owners
PS. We forgot to set the alarm so you don’t need to worry about that.
At ten o’clock, Ross gave up, crestfallen as he drove away. Bound to happen eventually, he thought. But it hadn’t been a total waste of time. He’d checked out the locale for the next few houses, two of which looked like they would cause him problems. One was behind high walls and solid wooden gates on a twisting country lane, with great clumps of leafy rhododendron bushes obscuring every angle. And he couldn’t find the other one on Google Street View. Its address was Burrell Farm, Stour Row, so he guessed that would be the reason why.
That same evening, Sally and Amanda were in town for dinner and a couple of drinks. It wasn’t meant to be a heavy night because they both had work the following day but Amanda suspected her friend already had a head start on her.
Sally was particularly voluble that evening and Ross was the hot topic. Amanda had been listening to Ross this, Ross that, and Ross the next thing, practically since she’d walked in the door. They had just put their main course cutlery down when Amanda spoke. ‘Come on, Sal. I know you’ve made it clear, crystal clear in fact, that he can have you if he wants. But—’
‘But what?’
Amanda being Amanda would normally have given Sally both barrels but deliberately chose to keep her tone gentle and kind. ‘Don’t you think he’s made it just as clear he’s not interested in you sexually? I mean …’ she hesitated. ‘I mean, after the night at his house when you …’
‘Took my kit off in his front room?’
Amanda spread her palms wide. ‘My point exactly. You served it up on a silver platter, and he still said no thanks. Anyway, what about Rob?’
‘Screw Rob. That died a death a long time ago. I’ve no idea why we’re still together. All he’s interested in is sodding football and his sodding darts team. The only time I ever get a shag is if I instigate it. In fact, he won’t even perform—’
Amanda stuck a flat palm in her friend’s face. ‘Enough, Sal! I shudder to think what you were about to say there.’ Sally opened her mouth to continue her line of conversation but Amanda held up both hands this time, and looked away over her shoulder. ‘Sal! When I used the words “I shudder to think”, that actually meant “shut the fuck up”. Mental images of you and Rob having it off would give me nightmares, and I’d prefer it if we didn’t discuss your sexual preferences. We’re not students any more, after all.’ She was well aware her friend had been promiscuous at university. Her maiden name was Sally Day, and around campus she had been christened ‘Sally Day, the Easy Lay’. Sally had been well aware of her nickname and did nothing to refute it. Quite the opposite, in fact.
They lapsed into momentary silence as the waiter cleared their table. After he walked away, and both women had stopped checking out his rear end, Sally leaned forward on both forearms. She spoke at a much lower volume. ‘Anyway, you’ll never guess what. You know how Ross kept all his mother’s jewellery and all the expensive stuff belonging to Liz?’
‘Yeah. Why?’
‘Well, he’s just discovered it’s all gone.’
‘What do you mean, all gone?’
‘I mean.’ Sally paused to enhance the effect. ‘It’s all been stolen. All Liz’s good stuff, his mother’s, and his mother-in-law’s too, I think. Carla, the thieving cow, must have taken it and he’s only just realised it’s missing.’
‘Shit, no!’ Amanda had her hand over her mouth.
‘It’s true.’ Sally looked like she’d just lost a pound and found a tenner. ‘And, guess what else.’
Amanda sat back and stared at her friend as if to say, Go on then.
‘He dumped Alex. They’re finished.’ That tenner had just turned into a twenty.
‘Bloody hell! Didn’t see that coming.’ A thought occurred to Amanda. ‘Wait a minute. How on earth did you find all this out? Did Ross tell you?’
‘No, he bloody didn’t! He’s only gone off on holiday somewhere, hasn’t he? On his lonesome, too. If only he’d told me, I could have—’
‘Yeah, Sal.’ Amanda being kind to Sally had quickly worn thin. There’s only so much a girl can take. ‘So how did you find out then?’
‘Well, I happened to be talking to one of Martin’s twins.’
‘You mean, you happened to be pumping the poor girl for info about Ross.’
Sally picked up the dessert menu, and peered down her nose at it. ‘You say tomayto …’
Amanda left her menu where it was, coffee would do for her. ‘Was it Gail or Beth?’
Sally didn’t look up. ‘I’ve absolutely no idea. I’ve never been able to tell the difference. Can you?’
Amanda sighed. Twenty-odd years you’ve known those girls. What planet do you live on, Sal?
Chapter Sixty-Three
Friday
The following morning Mock House, as it was now known, looked exactly the same as the previous night. Ross compared it with a photo he’d taken. The blinds had neither been raised nor lowered so clearly no one had come home. I’ll just have to come back at some point. Damn! The prospect depressed him. The end of the list, his personal pot of gold, was now further away than it had been yesterday. This definitely felt like two steps back.
From Devizes, he made the relatively short hop across the Salisbury Plain to the village of Codford. The area truly was ‘Beautiful House Central’. Thatched roofs and leaded windows were ten-a-penny and the honey-coloured stone, local to the area, lent a warm hue to the proceedings on this bright and sunny morning.
By noon he was on his way again. He’d watched as Ivan and Jill Cooke pottered around the front of their cottage. According to a plaque on the wall it had once been an important staging post between Shepton Mallet and Salisbury. Ivan was polishing the resplendent bodywork of a vintage Riley Kestrel that dated back to the forties, but still was younger than its owner. Meanwhile, Jill had several plant pots on a wall by a seriously crooked porch, and was enthusiastically repotting them with what looked like winter pansies. By Ross’s reckoning, neither of the Cookes would ever see eighty again, but he admired their cheerful dispositions and the energy they were putting into their respective tasks. If Jill was in the process of defrauding Ivan of his life savings, as far as Ross was concerned she was leaving it quite late.
