Silent Truths (30 page)

He nodded. ‘My biggest fear now, and it should be yours too, is that they’ll dispense with the niceties and eliminate all risk by getting rid of you anyway. However, that’s probably not too likely to happen when people know you’re here – the coincidence would be too much – but it’s another reason to go straight to Russell when you leave.’

‘What about your lawyer? Where does he stand in all this?’

‘He doesn’t know as much as you do even, and that’s the way I want it to stay. At least for now. If things get … Well, if anything happens to Beth, or Heather – or you, come to that – I’ll know that it’s not worth carrying on. In other words, what my lawyer knows he’ll be obliged to bring up at trial, and that might not be a good idea.’

She took a moment to digest that, then said, ‘Marcus Gatling is a name that has come up a few times recently.’

Ashby’s eyes were instantly cautious. ‘In what context?’ he asked.

‘Nothing really specific. But I know he’s an
extremely wealthy and influential man who’s been a Party supporter all his life. He’s also been a personal friend of yours and the Prime Minister’s for many years. It seems to me that he’s the kind of man the media is much more interested in than the public.’

He nodded. ‘You’re right about that.’

‘So was it him who invited you to join the syndicate?’

He regarded her with something that looked like disappointment, until finally he said, ‘Even if I told you who it was, you still won’t get to them from where you are now.’

‘But it was him who made you the offer?’ she persisted.

‘Actually, it was his wife. But with the Gatlings it’s the same thing. Husband, wife, take your pick. They’re in this together and you probably won’t ever meet a more devoted or a more lethal pair in your life.’

‘What’s his wife’s name?’

‘Leonora.’

‘Do you think they had something to do with Sophie Long’s murder?’

His laugh had no humour. ‘If they did, you’ll never pin it on them, I can promise you that now.’

‘But we can try.’

To her surprise he reached across the table and took her hands between his. ‘I can’t say this strongly enough: the Gatlings are
exceptionally
powerful people, which in itself makes them extremely dangerous enemies to have. But they’re only a part of the syndicate, they’re not the whole. This means there are others you need to search out,
and people who move in that league don’t enjoy being sought, believe me. Picture a fat Texan in his big game hunter’s lodge when the prey gets wind of him and starts to move in. He won’t even hesitate, and his aim will be sure, right between the eyes.’

Reflexively she blinked. ‘So who else is in it?’ she asked.

‘I’d only be guessing, but in order to work it has to be international, and the players are almost certainly going to have close attachments to high-level government insiders. Take a look at those who make particularly large campaign contributions in the US. Study the trends in certain currency exchange rates over the past few years, particularly the euro and how it’s been reacting to the dollar. There are many routes to go with this. Russell’s bound to have some good suggestions, and the names I just gave you will hopefully come up with some too.’

Laurie’s eyes were moving searchingly between his.

‘What?’ he said. ‘What are you thinking?’

‘Actually, I’m wondering how you explain being half undressed next to the body when the cleaning lady came in?’ she said frankly.

At that he let go of her hands and buried his face. Then he told her about the sexual game he and Sophie had played, of him coming in the door, partially undressing, then going in search of her.

Laurie listened carefully. It was so incredible that she was almost tempted to believe it, but if he really had been framed, as he was claiming, the timing
would have had to be so exact, she just couldn’t work out how it could be done.

‘Tell me a bit more about Sandra Chettle and Philip Buck,’ she said, returning to the contacts he’d given her.

‘Sandra’s a senior executive with the Bank of England. She’s given me several tip-offs in the past, when I was in the game. I don’t know whether she’ll come through on this, or not, but if you mention my name there’s a chance she’ll see you. Philip Buck’s an old friend of my wife’s – mine too, I suppose. His and Beth’s families were neighbours in Devon. He’s head of the foreign exchange at Morton Shields, which makes him pretty well informed on all matters of currency. Whether he’ll be willing to help out on this …’ He shrugged. ‘You won’t know until you try. Once again, can’t stress this enough: the amount of money and heavyweight contacts this syndicate has to call on gives them more power than God above. You’ve only got to look at how the police are handling my case, and the press is keeping quiet. Someone knows the right buttons to push, and they’re pushing. I’d like to say it would all come out in the end anyway, but I don’t know how many years the syndicate’s been going, and even if I did those running it will have their funds stashed away in places no one will ever think to look, and then we get started on the lawyers.’

There was so much more Laurie wanted to ask, but the visiting hour was abruptly pronounced over and the guard from hell was heading towards them. ‘Can I come again?’ she said quickly, as they got to their feet.

‘If you need to, let Giles Parker know.’

She shook his hand. ‘I really appreciate –’

‘Call Russell,’ he interrupted as the guard growled at her to leave. ‘Call as soon as you leave here.’

Ten minutes later Laurie was in the back of a taxi with those words still ringing in her ears. She stared angrily and miserably down at her mobile, wishing she knew how the hell to get out of making the damned call. She was ready to accept now that she really couldn’t handle this alone, but just what kind of forces were at play here, that seemed to be pushing her at Elliot Russell with every turn?

‘Laurie Forbes,’ she said into the phone as it rang.

‘Hi. It’s me,’ Rhona told her. ‘The proverbial’s really hit the fan over here. Apparently someone broke in last night and stole a copy of the manuscript from the editor’s office.’

Laurie’s eyes rounded. ‘You mean
the
manuscript?’ she said.

‘Tell me it wasn’t you,’ Rhona pleaded. ‘Tell me you weren’t behind it.’

‘I wish I were,’ Laurie confessed. ‘But I can make a good guess who is.’

‘Speak.’

There were two names in Laurie’s mind, Marcus Gatling and Elliot Russell, but now wasn’t the time to voice them. ‘Later,’ she said. ‘I moved into Andrew and Stephen’s house at the weekend. Can you come over?’

‘Six?’

‘Make it seven.’

After ringing off she tucked the phone back in her bag, then almost groaned aloud as she recalled
her dilemma. However, since she hadn’t actually answered when he’d told her to call Elliot as soon as she left, it couldn’t be said that she was breaking her word by not ringing him now, could it? So, in fact, that got her off the hook for the next hour or two or three, and by later she might have come up with another way of getting round the problem.

Chapter 13

HEATHER DANCE WAS
a striking young woman with dark, shoulder-length hair that waved and wandered like a forties movie star’s. Her large green eyes were fringed by long, naturally thick lashes, and her small retroussé nose was sprinkled with freckles. But best of all were her rosebud lips that were as fascinating to watch as she talked, as her lilting Welsh voice was melodious to listen to. Much like the first time they’d met, Elliot wasn’t finding it hard to work out what Ashby saw in her.

They were sitting on a bench on a remote hilltop in Devon. He’d driven down early that morning, after speaking to her on the phone last night to arrange where they should meet. She was staying with her mother in a small town nearby until the press found out where she was, then she’d sort out somewhere else to go.

‘But it might not be necessary,’ she said, lifting her hair for the breeze to waft its coolness around her neck. ‘The fuss is bound to die down sooner or later, then they won’t be interested in us any more.’

Elliot looked at Jessica, the tiny three-year-old who was sitting on the grass, her glossy brown curls stirring in the gentle currents of air as she concentrated fiercely on mashing daisies into a chain. ‘How much does she understand of what’s going on?’ he asked.

‘Nothing, really. She’s too young. Which is a blessing. I’ve got to decide whether or not to take her with me when I go to visit. Colin doesn’t want her to see him where he is, but it’s breaking his heart not seeing her at all, so he’s left it up to me.’ She sighed and gazed out to where a triangle of far-distant sea glittered like diamonds encrusted on the horizon. ‘It seems strange, doesn’t it,’ she said dreamily, ‘when you’re sitting here on what feels like the top of such a beautiful world, that there could be anything wrong with it?’ She smiled wryly to herself. ‘You know, when I fell for him I wasn’t a fool. I was aware of his reputation so I knew I was in for a lot of heartache, and I never believed he’d stay with me, even after Jess was born. But he did, in his way, and now we want him back with us, Elliot. We want him back very much.’

‘When are you going to visit?’ he asked.

‘In a few days. It’s been delayed.’ She turned to look at him and engaged his eyes with the sheer loveliness of her own. ‘Thanks for coming all the way down here,’ she said. ‘You didn’t have to. I could have told you on the phone.’

‘You did,’ he reminded her.

‘Yes, but not everything.’

He looked surprised.

‘I spoke to Colin again last night. I told him you were coming, so he’s given me another message
which might be a little more useful than the one you got via his lawyers asking you to keep an eye on me.’

He smiled.

‘You know why he asked, don’t you?’ she said.

He probably did, but he was interested to hear what she had to say.

‘As he sees it,’ she said, ‘Beth’s got Bruce and his wife, Georgie, to look out for her, while Jess and I don’t really have anyone.’

‘I guessed as much,’ he replied. ‘And it’s not a problem. In fact, it’s a good excuse to get out of town for a few hours. London’s no place for a human being in this heat, and fresh air and landscapes don’t come much more spectacular than this.’

‘No,’ she agreed, gazing out at the sun-drenched hills and valleys again. ‘So,’ she said after a while, ‘have you heard from Laurie Forbes?’

‘Not yet. I knew she’d been to see Colin, but I didn’t know until you told me last night that he’d made her promise to come to me.’

‘So why hasn’t she?’

‘It’s a long story. It won’t be easy for her, though, so I’ll give her some more time. Then, if I still don’t hear, I’ll make the call myself.’

‘So you two have a history?’

‘You could say that.’

She nodded. ‘Colin thought you might. What’s she like? He said she’s very pretty, but
very
young.’

His eyes filled with irony as he imagined Laurie’s response to that. ‘If it doesn’t sound too unchivalrous,’ he said, ‘she’s probably older than he thinks.’

‘So she’s in her twenties?’

Elliot laughed. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘And because I know she’d want me to tell you, she’s not very far short of thirty. There aren’t many women who have a problem with looking younger than they are, but she’s definitely one of them.’

Heather was watching him closely, her eyes sparkling with humour as she listened. ‘Are you married?’ she asked.

His eyebrows went up. ‘No.’

‘Ever been?’

‘Briefly, just after university.’

‘Where is she now?’

‘Canada. Married again with three kids. I see them whenever they’re over.’

She nodded approval. ‘That’s nice, you remained friends.’

He didn’t disagree.

‘So you haven’t met anyone since who you’ve wanted to marry?’

‘No,’ he answered, his expression full of laughter.

‘Have you come close at all?’

‘No.’

‘I’m surprised. You’re a good catch. But then, I suppose it’s you doing all the resisting, which of course makes you all the more irresistible. Has anyone ever told you that you become quite gorgeous when you smile? When you don’t you’re positively scary. I actually trembled the first time we met.’

He gave a shout of laughter, which made her laugh too.

‘How old are you?’ she asked.

‘Thirty-five.’

The corners of her mouth went down. ‘That’s about what I thought. Where do you live?’

‘I’ve got a flat in the Barbican.’

‘Very swish. Do you entertain many ladies there?’

Still laughing, he raised a hand in protest. ‘Enough,’ he declared. ‘I’m here to talk about you, not me.’

‘Thought that one might hit a wall,’ she grinned. But undeterred, she said, ‘I’ve got some good friends in London. Single, very eligible. Beautiful. Successful. I could offer to give you their numbers if your little black book isn’t already full.’

‘It’s a palm-pilot these days,’ he corrected.

‘Full?’

‘No vacancies,’ he countered.

Laughing delightedly she let her head fall back and squinted her eyes against the sun. The warmth, the nostalgic smell of fresh grass with a soupçon of sea-salt in the air, and the sheer vastness of the wide-open space were the very best cure-all tonic there was. ‘So now,’ she said finally, turning back to him, ‘which do you want first? The message or …’ She stopped as Jessica trotted up with her mangled daisies and dropped them on Elliot’s lap.

He picked them up, turned them over in his hands, then looked down into her big, expectant eyes. ‘I’ll wear it always,’ he promised.

‘It’s not as good as Mummy makes them,’ she told him.

‘It’s better than I make them,’ he assured her.

‘That’s because you’ve got big fingers. I’ve only got small ones. See?’ She put her little hand out and
measured it against his. The entire span of her fingers fitted inside his palm. ‘You’ve got even bigger hands than Daddy,’ she cried, her eyes rounding with awe.

Laughing, he held them both out for her to smack, which she did, heartily, until Heather said, ‘Why don’t you get your crayons out of the bag and draw Elliot a picture?’