Relatively Dead (25 page)

Sarah was interested in that. “I’m studying psychology, myself, working on becoming a therapist. I think you may be right. He’s out of his controlled environment. Perhaps you can use that to your advantage. He’ll also be tired and have jet lag.”

I wasn’t used to sitting on the left side of the car and not driving, but I knew I’d driven during the two years I lived in England. I watched Jason shift with his left hand. I could do that. Although I was glad I wasn’t driving here at night. While he drove, we tried to put together a plan of action.

We left the car in a parking lot within easy walking distance of the modern looking terminal building. Tom’s plane was coming directly from Chicago, so he’d have to go through passport control here. We headed for the doorway with a yellow sign that said “International Arrivals” over it. Inside, a small crowd of people awaited with noisy anticipation the appearance through swinging doors of passengers from Tom’s flight. Jason surveyed the situation and gestured with his hand.

“If you wait behind that potted tree, he won’t see you, what with all the people. I’ll greet him and introduce myself. When you follow us to the car, stay out of sight.”

“How will you know him?”

“I think I can pick him out from your description, but I’ll look at you for confirmation. I’ll stand there on the edge of the crowd where I can see both you and the passengers spewing out.”

The passengers straggled rather than spewed out, and after some time watching them I wondered if Tom was really on the flight. I didn’t remember his seat assignment, but he’d probably be sitting in the back of the plane, which meant he’d be slow going through passport control and claiming his luggage.
Have patience.

Suddenly, there he was, walking alone, carrying a small bag, and rolling a single suitcase behind him. He walked tentatively, not sure of himself, trying to become familiar with his new surroundings. I looked at Jason but he wasn’t looking at me. Then he turned and inclined his head toward Tom, and I gave him a nod and thumbs up.

Jason confronted Tom just as he cleared the group of people waiting for the passengers. For a moment Tom looked like a scared rabbit, and I wondered whether he was going to run. However, he had no place to run to, and he couldn’t move very fast with the suitcase and carryon bag.

Although Jason was considerably larger than Tom and could appear intimidating, he gave Tom the Boyd smile and extended his hand. Tom appeared to relax a little. They stood talking for a minute while I waited, impatiently. Would Tom go with him? Then they turned and headed for the exit. Jason’s charm was working. Somehow, Jason had gained control of Tom’s suitcase, so there was nothing Tom could do but follow him.

I followed too, but at a discreet distance. Jason engaged Tom in spirited conversation. There wasn’t much chance he’d turn around. It was as if Jason had Tom hypnotized. What story was he telling Tom to explain how he’d found out about him? Jason had told me he’d mention Tom’s DNA test results and dazzle him with bullshit while welcoming him to the family.

They exited the terminal. I did the same a few seconds later, along with several others so I wouldn’t be conspicuous. When I didn’t see them, immediately, I crossed a roadway and entered the parking lot. Then I saw the pair ahead of me, walking between the cars, dimly lit by lights on tall poles. They were headed toward Jason’s car. When they reached his car I waited behind a double row of vehicles diagonally across the aisle from them in the shadows while Jason opened his trunk—which I remembered was called the boot here—and placed Tom’s suitcase inside.

Tom instinctively went to the right side of the car. He realized his mistake and walked around the front of the car to the left side. The doors were still locked. As Tom waited, Jason gave an “oh shit” movement and spoke rapidly. I was too far away to hear what he said, but the plan was for him to invent a reason they had to go back to the terminal—for Tom to make an ATM withdrawal, get a bus schedule, whatever.

He talked fast and furiously, but Tom wasn’t buying it. I could see him shaking his head. In desperation, Jason started walking toward the terminal. Tom followed him, voicing loud objections, rather than being left standing outside a locked car alone in a strange country. As soon as they cleared the parking aisle I went between the cars I was hiding behind and hotfooted it across the aisle to Jason’s car.

Unknown to Tom, Jason had left the trunk unlocked. I opened it, turned on my recently purchased small flashlight that replaced the one I’d left at Tom’s house, and stuck it in my mouth. I had to work fast.

Tom’s suitcase showed wear. He’d done some traveling with it before. It was a good thing suitcases couldn’t be locked anymore. The bag had a number of zippers. This wasn’t going to be easy. I unzipped one zipper and found an empty compartment. I zipped it again. I pulled the suitcase part way out of the trunk and with some effort flipped it over. Fortunately, it wasn’t terribly heavy. Tom had packed light. On the second try I managed to unzip the twin zippers leading to the main compartment.

I pulled up the top part of the suitcase and gazed at the neatest packing job the world has ever seen. Each piece of Tom’s clothing was rolled and set precisely in place. I was searching for a weapon. If I moved his clothes around, I’d never get everything back in the same position. Being the person he was, he’d immediately know someone had been in his suitcase. Maybe we could blame it on airport baggage screening.

The most obvious weapon was a knife, but that could easily be hidden in one of the items of clothing. Did I have to squeeze each piece, individually, to see if something hard lurked inside its folds?

I heard a shout and belatedly realized it was Jason shouting. I looked up and saw someone bearing down on me, running at full tilt. A ray of light from a pole touched the face of the runner and I recognized Tom. I dropped the top of the suitcase and frantically tried to work the zippers.

Tom reached me and hit me with his carryon bag. That knocked me against the side of the trunk opening. I staggered to maintain my footing. Tom took a look at me.

“You! First you trash my house and now you follow me here and steal my suitcase.”

He grabbed the handle of the bag and jerked it out of the trunk. It flew open and all of his clothes spewed onto the asphalt. He dropped the suitcase and stared at the mess. For a moment he looked as if he were going to cry.

Jason came running up and surveyed the scene. He saw me holding onto the car for support. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” I didn’t want any more violence.

Tom started picking up items of clothing and placing them in the bag. I didn’t see any weapons. He didn’t just throw them in; he put them in place, but not as carefully as they’d been originally packed. Jason reached down to help him and Tom almost screamed.

“Leave me alone.”

Jason backed off, uncertain. “Look, we can explain. This isn’t what it looks like.”

Tom yelled louder. “Leave me alone.”

He was in no mood for explanations. I wondered if his shouts would attract attention. I saw the light of my flashlight, still faithfully shining in the trunk where it had fallen after I spit it out of my mouth when Tom hit me. At least I hadn’t swallowed it. I picked it up.

Tom finished placing his belongings in the suitcase, zipped it, extracted the handle, and picked up his carryon. Jason was standing in the middle of the aisle, so Tom ran in the opposite direction with the suitcase banging along behind him.

Jason made a move as if he were going after him. I grabbed his arm.

“Let him go.”

“But…” He looked at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“If you like a girl with one flat breast.” I felt my breast, gingerly. It was sore but my ribs had taken the brunt of the blow from his bag. They ached, and I hoped they weren’t cracked. “I’ll be fine.”

Jason looked after the fleeing Tom. “The farther away we got from the car the more he exhibited signs of hysteria. He must have thought his suitcase was going to be stolen.”

“It’s his control thing.”

“When he started running back I followed him. I tried to warn you but I guess I was too late.”

“It’s my fault. Given his eccentricities, I should have known we’d never get away with this.”

“What do we do now?”

We needed to keep track of him. “We should try to find out where he’s staying.”

“When I first talked to him, he said he was planning to take the Air Link bus into Edinburgh. I had a hard time convincing him to change his plans.”

“He likes everything to be orderly. Did he book a place to stay?”

“Yes, but he didn’t tell me where it is.”

“If it’s close to you, he’ll get off at Waverley Station, same as I did. Maybe we can follow him from there.”

CHAPTER 27

We drove out of the airport and Jason parked along the bus route. We waited for the first Air Link bus to come along and followed the double-decker coach, assuming Tom was aboard. We hoped he wasn’t looking out the back window.

We checked out the people who got off at each stop. No Tom. As we approached Waverley Station, I remembered the bus had to make a right turn just before it made its final stop. We couldn’t follow it because that would put us on the route Tom would probably take when he got off the bus.

Instead, Jason turned left, pulled into a side street, and stopped the car. I extracted the map I’d used to walk to my B&B from my purse and we studied it by the dome light. Jason, who knew the area well, was confident Tom would follow the same route I had.

“I’ll go back to the corner and make sure he got off the bus. Wait here.”

I followed Jason’s progress in the rearview mirror. He tried to remain hidden, but it wasn’t a tragedy if Tom saw him. What could he do? Jason ran back to the car several minutes later and jumped in.

“He’s on the forecast route, heading in this direction. I doubt he’ll notice our car even if he looks this way. It’s in dark shadows. We can’t follow him in the car because traffic is too heavy to allow us to go slowly, and besides, we’d be conspicuous. I think I can follow him on foot, but that would mean leaving you here in the car for as much as half an hour.”

“I’m not staying in the car. I’ll go with you.”

“What about your ankle—and your ribs?”

“I can walk as fast as Tom can with his suitcase.”

Jason argued that two people would be easier to spot than one, but I said so what if he saw us? Jason agreed leaving me alone in the car wasn’t a good idea. We saw Tom pass the corner in the rearview mirror. We got out of the car and walked back to that corner.

There he was, ahead of us, pulling the suitcase in one hand, holding his carryon in the other, which didn’t leave him a hand to hold the map while he read it. That meant he stopped, periodically, and not just to cross streets. We had to stay well behind him.

He had to cross a major street at a crosswalk—one I had also crossed. The locals played tag with the buses and crossed when the crossing light said to wait, but Tom, wisely, decided not to take any risks. This kept us pinned to the wall of a building some distance away, hoping he wouldn’t look around.

After he crossed the street we hurried to the crosswalk, only to find a slew of buses going by. Not only did they prevent us from crossing, they blocked our view of the other side. When we finally got a clear look, Tom had disappeared. Jason, being a local, grabbed my arm and guided me across between vehicles with drivers who didn’t seem to care one way or another whether they hit us.

We hurried to the next corner and looked to the right. Tom wasn’t in sight. I now knew one thing I hadn’t thought to ask Jasmin about.

“He’s not going to my B&B or he’d have gone straight.”

He must have turned right and then turned again. We took the side street to the next intersection and looked both ways. Tom had disappeared. I was dejected.

“This reminds me of when the police and I staked out a store where we thought Tom would try to pick up some money from my grandmother. I spotted him but then he disappeared, just like he did this time. He must have the hypnotic power to cloud men’s minds so they can’t see him like The Shadow did in an old radio show my grandmother likes to listen to on an oldies station.”

Jason wasn’t quite so dramatic. “He’s obviously a slippery character.”

We agreed there was nothing more we could do. We walked back to the car and Jason drove me to my B&B and told me to be careful.

“It’s you who need to be careful. I’m sure he knows where you live.”

“Don’t worry. We’ve got our own moat. I’ll fill it with water and stock it with alligators.”

***

I didn’t sleep on my right side. I didn’t know whether I had cracked ribs, but I’d heard the treatment was the same whether they were cracked or not—do nothing. I discovered it wasn’t a wise idea to sneeze.
Memo to self: Don’t use pepper for a few days.
At least my poison oak had cleared up and my sprained ankle was feeling better.

I was up early, partly because of my discomfort and partly because my head wasn’t adjusted to the local time. It was Sunday morning and Jasmin wouldn’t be serving breakfast for a while. I came down the long, curving stairway and opened the big front door. I walked out into the predawn drizzle, glad I was wearing jeans and a sweater under my rain top.