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‘I don’t get it,’ Rourke said. ‘You’re talking about a plot to undermine Broadwood and ruin me. What could Watson’s death achieve?’

‘Precisely; so why was he murdered? Tell me everything you can about him.’

Rourke told them all he knew. His last sentence gave Marshall the motive.

‘Now we know the worst. What the hell am I going to do?’ Rourke asked.

‘I’ve been thinking about that. I’ve come up with a plan.’

‘If you want my advice, Tara,’ Lisa told her, ‘you’ll emigrate immediately. Alan’s plan will probably have you robbing a bank or kidnapping someone. He’s got some very immoral ideas since he was in Durham Prison.’

Marshall ignored her and began to outline his idea. When Marshall finished Rourke looked at him in awe. ‘You really think this will work?’

‘Why not?’ Marshall countered. ‘It depends on you. Do you think you can do it?’

‘How long will it take?’ Rourke asked.

‘I reckon it should be wrapped up by Friday. Probably Thursday will be the critical day.’

‘It would be ideal if you could keep out of the way during tomorrow, Wednesday and Thursday,’ Lisa suggested. ‘But I don’t suppose that’s practical.’

‘Actually it is. I’ve been planning to visit all our sites since the vandalism. I go round the bigger ones regularly, but it would do no harm to visit the others as well. I can do that over the next few days without raising suspicion. If I didn’t appear in the office between now and the weekend they wouldn’t think it out of the ordinary.’

‘The way your temper’s been recently they’ll probably think their prayers have been answered,’ Tara commented.

Rourke smiled ruefully, but Lisa picked up on Tara’s implication. ‘That’s a good point. You can’t afford to seem suddenly cheerful, in case word gets back.’

‘You don’t need to worry about that,’ Rourke assured them. ‘All I’ll have to do is think about how much this has cost me.’

‘That’s fine, but you must give the impression you’re going to reject the bid. I’m not sure how, because nobody else is supposed to know there is one. It must be something big enough to get everyone gossiping. Hopefully that’ll catch them off balance. Then we can hit them.’

Rourke was beginning to enter the spirit of the game. ‘I’ve got some quotes on my desk for replacement excavators. I haven’t done anything with them yet, but I could get them faxed through to home and ask the office to ring the salesmen and make appointments for next week. It’ll give the salesmen a stiffy, but commit me to nothing specific. The last thing anyone considering accepting a bid would do is order expensive plant and machinery. More important, the news will go round the office like wildfire.’

‘That sounds perfect.’

‘So what do I do after that?’

‘Sit back and wait for things to happen. They’ll move pretty fast but you can’t do anything more. I’ll keep in touch and tell you when it’s safe to break cover.’

‘Suppose nothing happens?’

‘It will,’ Marshall reassured him. ‘And when it does the tremors will be felt far and wide.’

Tara broke in. ‘What intrigues me is how you found all this out?’

Marshall glanced at Nash for approval. ‘Go on,’ Nash told him, with a smile. His only reaction so far.

Marshall told the whole story. As he spoke, Lisa watched the expressions of his audience. Rourke shook his head when Marshall had finished. ‘It’s as well you did. I’m not sure I’d have believed you if you’d come to me without evidence.’

‘If I hadn’t turned into a criminal, we wouldn’t have discovered the plot until it was too late, if at all.’

As their visitors were preparing to leave, Harry and Tara escorted them into the hall. ‘You know, Alan, I still find it incredible that you’ve managed this, especially with the police chasing you. Are you still wanted for murder?’

‘I don’t think so.’ Marshall looked at his companions.

‘Tell him.’ Nash nodded.

‘I’m afraid I didn’t complete the introductions. This is Detective Inspector Nash from Helmsdale CID. Lisa’s, or should I say DC Andrews’, boss. I couldn’t introduce him until we were absolutely sure about you, Harry. As to the rest, well, I had an incentive, didn’t I?’

Rourke nodded soberly. ‘I did wonder. We forget with all this talk of business and plots that behind it are people’s lives. So you’re doing it for revenge?’

‘Partly, I had to clear myself too.’

‘If you hadn’t, I’d have spent the rest of my life in prison. Whatever the reason I’m bloody glad you did. I owe you; big time.’

‘You can repay me later.’

‘That’s a promise,’ Rourke told him.

‘It’s time we were off, Alan,’ Nash reminded him. ‘Mr Rourke, for the time being all communication should be through me, or from mobile to mobile.’ He gave Rourke his card. ‘And, one more thing. I want you to take extra care until this is all wrapped up.’ He looked across at Tara. ‘That applies to both of you. Make sure no harm comes to you and that nobody can get at you via Tara. Remember, these are desperate men playing for very high stakes. They’ll stop at nothing. We’re only talking a matter of days, but you now know what they’re capable of. Be on your guard.’

‘Are you sure it’s necessary? You’re not overdramatizing?’

‘You haven’t seen the files on the murders Brown’s committed, and the “accidents” he’s arranged. If they’ve one person like Brown, they may have others. Don’t forget we haven’t identified everyone yet. Until then, trust nobody. Keep clear of tall buildings and out of the way of excavator blades and deep trenches whose sides could cave in. When this is over I’ll need a statement from you.’

On the return journey they discussed the meeting. ‘What still surprises me is how easy it was,’ Marshall said. ‘I admit I wasn’t thinking straight at the time, and later I didn’t want to dwell on the past, but I never doubted that letter originated from Harry.’

‘And he simply took Harrison’s word for it,’ Nash replied. ‘He believed you’d resigned without asking to see your letter. I bet Harrison had one ready in case Rourke asked for it. As you say, it was dead easy.’

‘That’s because Harrison was in a position of trust,’ Marshall said quietly. ‘What possible motive could he have for lying about something that was apparently no concern of his?’

‘Even tonight, I don’t think Rourke would have believed you, had you not taken the evidence along,’ Lisa added. ‘Unless we’d introduced Mike earlier.’

‘Harrison’s worked for him over twenty-five years. It must have come as a hell of a shock.’

‘What do you remember about Harrison?’ Nash asked.

‘Not much really. Not in a business sense anyway. He was the perfect second in command, quietly efficient. A good manager and administrator. Apart from work I can only recall a couple of things.’ Marshall thought for a moment, ‘No, three actually.’

‘What were they?’

‘He’d a passion for gardening; roses and orchids in particular. He used to win lots of prizes at local shows with his blooms. Gardening and girls were his two main hobbies. He was forever chasing women, without much success. Freddie had a sort of smarmy charm. Some girls fell for it; others found it a turn-off.’

‘And your other memory?’

‘Nothing important; just one of those small things that mark people out. He’d spent time abroad with the RAF. That might have been where he met Corps. Whilst he was out there, Harrison developed a craving for curry. We used to go out for a drink when a contract was completed and we’d almost always finish up at an Indian restaurant. Freddie used to order a curry so hot nobody else could go near it. He must have a stomach of steel.’

‘I have to say, none of it makes him sound like the monster who’d calmly order all these murders, just like ordering a curry,’ Lisa commented.

‘That’s what people always say after a murderer’s identity is revealed,’ Nash told them. ‘You must have heard it dozens of times: “He was such a polite, quiet man. Helped old ladies across the road, carried their shopping”, that sort of remark. I know, because I’ve met a lot of them. And the very worst ones seemed perfectly normal, average blokes you wouldn’t give a second glance to. Until you found out what they’d done.’

‘Is everything going to plan, Harry?’

‘More or less. Rourke’s been like a bear with a sore head recently and we know why. He asked me to work out the cost of the vandalism.’

‘I bet that came to a pretty penny, didn’t it?’

‘It did by the time I’d finished manipulating the figures – and the projections. It was under £1 million but I made it up to almost £3 million by adding in everything I could. Including a few things that definitely won’t happen.’

‘I should imagine he was a little upset?’

‘Not half as angry as he was after he received the offer Darren Cowan sent him. That nearly provoked a heart attack. Whilst he was still seething about the bid, I rang the auditors and told them Rourke wanted the latest quarterly results as soon as possible. I asked them to add in a notional cost for the vandalism of £2.75 million. What with that and the £400,000 I’d paid Brown via Valley Services, I knew the results would make bad reading.’

‘How did he react to them?’

‘At one stage I thought half the office staff would walk out. Except
the SFO had arrived by then and the mayhem got worse. I thought we’d succeeded in every respect, but for some reason they stopped their investigation and left. Maybe something more urgent has come up.’

‘What about the next phase of the operation?’

‘I can’t do much until I contact Brown. I tried all last week without success. I’ll try again later this week and then let you know.’

‘OK, but don’t ring on Thursday evening. I have a by-election meeting that night.’

‘How’s that going?’

‘Couldn’t be better. We’re streets ahead in the polls. My agent’s ecstatic. He reckons if it’s decent weather on polling day we might even top the general election majority. The party hierarchy are making some very encouraging remarks as well. On Thursday I’ve got the deputy leader speaking on my behalf. He’s actually staying at my house overnight on Thursday. The leader in the upper house will be on the platform as well.’

‘That’s excellent, Julian. It seems as if everything is about to fall into place quite nicely. As soon as I contact Brown we can start implicating Rourke.’

‘Have you worked out how?’

‘I’ll give the police an anonymous tip-off that should lead to Brown’s arrest. Then I’ll point them towards Valley Services. The police will follow the money trail back from Brown via Valley Services to Broadwood Construction. With that and Brown’s confession they’ll arrest Rourke, and Broadwood will collapse. We step in. Buy Broadwood and the future’s plain sailing.’

‘You don’t foresee any last minute hitches?’

‘Relax, Julian, every detail has been taken care of and there’s nothing to connect us with any of it. Nothing, I repeat, nothing can possibly go wrong.’

Their subterfuge to deceive those watching the Dickinsons’ cottage the following morning involved nothing more
complicated
than Marshall and Lisa hiding under a blanket in the back of the Dickinsons’ Land Rover. Seeing the keeper pull up near a pheasant release pen and take a sack of feed out, the officers lost interest and returned to their post. Once the coast was clear, Barry let them out and told Lisa, ‘Your car is parked at the other end of this ride where I moved it to last night.’

Once again they headed for Leeds. To ensure complete success for the scheme concocted by Marshall and Rourke, they had one more visit to make.

Linda finished loading the washing machine and glanced at the clock, 11.15. She was making coffee when the doorbell rang. A man and woman stood by the front door. Their car was parked across the drive. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Good morning. My name’s Alan and this is Lisa. It’s Linda, isn’t it?’

Linda looked at the couple questioningly. As she was still puzzling over their identity, Marshall began to tell her the reason for their visit. As he spoke, her mouth widened. As fact followed fact, surprise turned to shock, shock to astonishment and astonishment to horrified acceptance. She invited them in. They sat and talked for hours. By the time they finished they’d convinced her. Once she was persuaded, Linda was eager to help. Her keenness should have raised suspicions. When Marshall put forward his plan, Linda suggested a couple of modifications before they agreed the final details.

After they left, Linda walked over to the picture window
in the lounge. She stared out for a long time, at the
immaculate
lawn, the neatly stocked flower beds and the shrubs and numerous rose bushes that marked the border of the property. She pondered all that her visitors had told her; then turned and began to make preparations. She’d a busy couple of days ahead.

‘Superintendent Dundas, DI Nash here. Sorry I couldn’t get back to you before. Things have been pretty hectic here, makes things worse when we’re so short staffed. Still, I’ve got some good news for you.’

‘Really?’ There was a wealth of sarcasm in the single word. ‘That’s not what I’ve been hearing. I understood one of your officers has been suspended for consorting with Marshall. More than just consorting by all accounts. Do members of your force often sleep with convicted murderers who are on the run?’

‘Ah, you mean DC Andrews. Actually, that’s part of the reason I rang you. Yes, the girl’s been stupid, criminally so, as it turns out. But we’ve been able to turn it to our advantage. We’ve been leading her to think we believe the story she and Marshall have cooked up between them. That way, she now thinks he’s about to be cleared of all charges. Utter nonsense of course, but she’s swallowed it, and more important, so has Marshall. I’ve actually had a phone call from him. I’m not sure where they’ve been hiding but I managed to convince him it was safe to come out. I’m supposed to meet him sometime tomorrow night. He’s going to phone me with the details. When we do so, I think it would be a good idea if you and some of your officers were present when I make the arrest. It’ll likely be on your turf. What do you think?’

‘That sounds perfect. Well done, Nash, a splendid piece of police work. So good I reckon it would be an ideal opportunity to have the press and media there. It’d make a pleasant change for them to see us succeed in such a high profile case.’

‘Great idea. Of course, we can’t tell them much until I know the venue.’

‘Leave it to me. I’ll clue them in to begin with. Then I’ll have my men ready to tip them off as to the time and the place when
you give me the word.’

Nash put the phone down and looked across the room at Ruth and Clara. ‘Hook, line and sinker,’ he told them.

Freddie Harrison felt completely relaxed. He wandered through to his lounge after dinner and flopped down in his armchair to watch TV. He’d intended popping out to the greenhouse to check some seedlings he’d planted a couple of weeks ago. They were a new strain and he wanted to ensure their progress, but it was a cold, frosty night and they could wait another day. He really couldn’t be bothered.

He belched slightly. A reminder of the curry he’d just eaten; hot and spicy. Freddie burped gently again, then settled back to watch
Coronation Street.

At some stage during the programme Freddie remembered he still hadn’t contacted Brown. That would also have to wait until the following day. Freddie wouldn’t risk phoning from his own number. As always he would ring from the office.

At the end of the programme Freddie flicked the TV remote and was transported in an instant from Manchester to Albert Square, London. He had just started to watch
Eastenders
when the doorbell rang. He heard voices. Obviously visitors were being greeted. A few minutes later Freddie heard the lounge door open. ‘Who was it?’ he asked without turning his head.

‘Hello, Freddie, you murdering bastard.’

Harrison looked round. Shock and fear combined, the room swam before his eyes. ‘Marshall,’ he whispered.

But it wasn’t only Marshall. Beside him was a strikingly handsome girl Freddie didn’t recognize; and behind her was another man. Harrison tried to speak but fear clogged his throat.

‘Cat got your tongue, Freddie?’ Marshall moved forward two paces. ‘Surprised to see me, are you? Of course you are. It means everything’s gone pear-shaped, doesn’t it?’

Harrison’s head jerked slightly. Little more than a twitch but it was a tangible sign he understood. He stared back in shock as Marshall continued, ‘What’s going wrong with the world, Freddie? You can’t rely on tradesmen any more, can you?
Sending Brown to slit my throat and frame me for murder. And here I am, large as life, and twice as ugly. Oh, but pardon me. I’m forgetting my manners, I haven’t introduced you, have I? This is Lisa Andrews.’ Marshall’s tone was light, almost conversational. Then suddenly the voice changed, took on a harsher note. ‘Lisa, this is the man who paid Brown for killing Anna, just as he paid him to kill Moran. Tell me, Freddie,’ Marshall leaned forward again as if seeking a confidence, ‘did Brown ask for extra for killing Lesley Robertson, or did you get a two for one discount?’ He turned and began pacing the room.

‘He told Brown to make mine look like suicide, but Brown messed up, didn’t reckon on “man’s best friend”. I bet Freddie would have been wild about that, but fortunately it wasn’t his money.

‘Brown’s confessed, Freddie. But first, he told me lots of
interesting
things. Now he’s visiting with the police and telling them lots and lots of interesting things. Things like the death of the former chairman of the planning committee and the way he pushed Gary Watson off a building. Oh yes, Freddie, we know it all.’

Harrison was stunned at the scope of their knowledge. He wished he could act but he felt rooted to the chair.

Marshall spoke again. Again his tone was severe, like that of a judge or an executioner. Harrison was beginning to loathe the sound of his voice.

‘All those killings because you hatched up a plot to rob Harry Rourke. Rob him of his contracts, his company, and finally, to rob him of his liberty as well. Such a neat scheme, but one that was bound to have teething troubles.

‘When Anna found out, you knew if she told me you’d finish up inside. So you had her killed and framed me. It worked so well you decided to repeat it by framing Rourke.’

Harrison spoke for the first time, his voice a barely audible whisper. ‘You can’t prove a word of this.’ There was no denial.

‘Oh but I can, Freddie.’ Marshall held up the documents from Hobbs & Hirst. ‘These are copies of course. The police seized the originals this evening, shortly before they arrested Corps.
We arranged that little event to take place at his election rally. I thought you might appreciate that dramatic touch.’

On and on Marshall continued, taunting Harrison all the while. Harrison realized he should resist but couldn’t. He wanted to rise, to leave his chair. To leave this room, leave his house. To be anywhere, except here within the range of Marshall’s voice, Marshall’s rage, Marshall’s knowledge, Marshall’s judgment, and Marshall’s hatred. He thought it must be shock; he felt strangely weary. He realized denial was useless. Marshall knew everything. Marshall hadn’t come seeking
information
. Marshall had come seeking revenge.

Freddie found his voice. ‘I hope you don’t expect me to confess or beg for forgiveness. Is that what you want?’

‘No, my original plan was to kill you. After all, I served time for a murder I didn’t commit. Perhaps I could trade that one against one I did commit. What do you think, is that fair?’ Marshall spread his arms wide like a prosecuting counsel appealing to a jury. ‘You robbed me of my wife. You framed me for her murder and you robbed me of my love for her.’ Marshall leaned forward and his cold, pitiless eyes drilled into Harrison’s. ‘You robbed me of that love when you got Moran to lie.’ Marshall’s eyes were no longer cold, they were as hot as molten lava. ‘You robbed me of that love,’ Marshall’s voice was quiet now, quiet but deadly, ‘when it was all that I had left of her. You killed Anna twice. You slaughtered her body then you besmirched her memory. Can you think of a good reason why I shouldn’t kill you, Freddie? Can anyone here think of a good reason why I shouldn’t kill Freddie?’

For the first time Harrison knew he wasn’t going to escape. It was all over. He knew it and was powerless to prevent it.

Into the silence after Marshall’s final question a voice answered quietly, ‘Yes, I can. I can think of one very good reason.’

Everyone turned towards the speaker. The woman standing in the lounge doorway held a small but extremely
efficient-looking
automatic pistol in her hand. ‘Would the three of you go across to that settee and sit down.’ She waved the pistol to
emphasize the point as Freddie stared at her, his expression vague.

She turned to him. ‘Do you recognize this gun? I took it out of your safe yesterday morning when I was showing them all those interesting documents and that very nasty video you have of Chris Davidson with those poor little boys.

‘I loved Gary,’ Linda Watson continued. ‘It wasn’t a perfect marriage but it was a good marriage. I remember the day he died; the day they came and told me he’d fallen from that building. All these years I’ve believed it. Believed it was an accident. I was hurt and upset when he died, grieving and in need of consolation. And there you were: kind, considerate Freddie. A shoulder to cry on. A helping hand for a widow alone. You timed it perfectly, didn’t you? Made your move on me when I was at my most vulnerable: lonely and in need of companionship. So I became your mistress. Not for love;
affection
was the best I could feel for you. It wasn’t the same as what I’d lost, but it was something.

‘That was until yesterday morning, when these two arrived with their incredible tale of murder and plots, of fraud, and lies, and deception. I found it hard to credit what they were telling me. Until they played the tape, and I heard the man you paid confessing. Telling how he pushed Gary from that building. You had him murdered, just so you could get me. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel, Freddie? I’ll tell you, shall I? I feel dirty; cheap and dirty. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel clean again. When I found out, every warm feeling I had for you was washed away in an instant. And what replaced it? I’ll tell you, hatred. You should never underestimate the power of a woman’s love, Freddie, or her capacity to hate. But then it’s a little late for you.’

Linda turned towards Marshall. ‘You asked a question. You asked if anyone knew a good enough reason for you not to kill him.’ Marshall nodded. ‘Well you can’t,’ Linda told him. ‘Because I have already claimed that pleasure.’

‘Go on, then.’ Harrison spoke to her for the first time. ‘Shoot me and have done with it.’

‘You’ll die when I’m good and ready, and not a minute
before,’ Linda snapped. Then she smiled. ‘But at least I gave you a good send-off. After all I’d heard, Freddie, I still made you your favourite meal, a parting gesture. A really hot, really spicy curry to send you on your way to Hell. Don’t you think that was nice of me, Freddie?’

Harrison attempted to rise from his chair, trying to fight this strange feeling of inertia. ‘For God’s sake, get it over with,’ he snarled. ‘Shoot me, damn you.’

‘No, Freddie. I’m not going to shoot you. I’ve something far better in mind. We’re all going to sit here quietly and watch you start to die.’

Harrison stared at her, uncomprehendingly.

‘I made the curry extra hot and extra spicy, to conceal the taste of the additional seasoning. Of course, it does say it’s odourless and tasteless on the packet, but you can’t always trust what the packet tells you. Can you? I checked it on your computer. It told me what the effects were. The nervous system gets attacked first, but the effects can still be reversed at this stage. You’ll be immobile soon, Freddie. That’s because the motor nerves have been attacked. But that’s not fatal. It isn’t until the convulsions start that the irreversible stage has been reached. Then you’ll know. You’ll know that death is inevitable. But what you don’t know, Freddie, the best part of the joke is that it won’t kill you tonight, or tomorrow, or the next day. This poison is so good it’ll keep you alive for years to come. Just think of it, you’ll have all that time to think about what you’ve done. That’s all you will be able to do of course, because if I got the dose right you’ll be totally paralysed. I do hope so,’ Linda added thoughtfully. ‘I measured it ever so carefully.’

‘Where did you get the poison?’ Lisa asked in revulsion.

Linda turned and smiled. There was a sort of sick horror in the sweetness of that smile. ‘That’s the best bit. I think it’s so appropriate. I got it from Freddie’s own greenhouse. It’s his favourite weedkiller, and look, it’s killing this weed.’ She pointed at Harrison and began to laugh.

It was then that the first tremors began. It was then he finally realized that it was all over.

Linda had walked to the lounge door and was through it before Nash reached her. He heard the click of the lock being turned from the outside. ‘Damn,’ he glanced at his watch. ‘Twenty minutes before the rest of the team get here.’ He reached for his mobile and dialled the control room.