Charlotte’s face paled with the shock she was feeling.
‘ I’m afraid there’s more,’ said Steven. ‘Perhaps you’d like a brandy? A glass of water?’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘Tell me,’ she said, blowing her nose and then crumpling the tissue in her clenched right fist as she straightened her back and looked Steven in the eye.
Steven told her that Little had AIDS and how he’d got it. He watched her fall apart before his eyes.
‘ Oh my God,’ she gasped. ‘This is all my fault. I should have believed in him in spite of… I should have known there had been some kind of a mix up and put up a fight for him. I let him down when he needed me most…’
Steven continued trying to assure her that she had nothing to be ashamed of although he could see that it was a losing battle. He could only hope that at least some of what he was saying was getting through. He took a deep breath and continued, ‘The man who did this to David wasn’t content with ruining his life,’ he said. ‘He wanted to do the same to yours. I know this man as John Merton… but you knew him as John Mission.’
Charlotte remained silent for fully half a minute. She seemed stunned but once she had taken on board what Steven was saying, he could see her take some comfort from the fact that she had to a certain extent shared her ex-husband’s suffering.
‘ He set out to get both of you,’ said Steven.
Charlotte hung her head and said quietly, ‘It all makes sense now, the accidental meeting, the charming manners, the attentiveness, the sympathy and understanding. I was completely taken in. I thought he was such a… sensitive man.'
‘ He’s a clever, scheming psychopath,’ said Steven.
‘ That would explain the change,’ said Charlotte with a rueful shake of the head. ‘Once he had cheated me out of my money he treated me like dirt and enjoyed it. He got pleasure from humiliating me. He actually smiled when he was hitting me as if he was enjoying some kind of private joke.’
‘ The police need your help to find this man,’ said Steven.
‘ I haven’t seen him in years,’ said Charlotte. ‘I can’t think what possible help I could be.’
‘ Maybe not but perhaps we could talk some things through if you feel up to it?’ said Steven.
‘ Of course,’ said Charlotte although she seemed far from comfortable with the idea.
‘ I understand from your father that Mission told you he was some kind of businessman with premises up north.’
‘ He said he was a computer graphics expert. His company made promotional material for other companies, films, advertising material, websites, that sort of thing.’
‘ You never visited the company?’
Charlotte shook her head and said, ‘Never. He said that there was no point as he was looking for premises down here. He’d be moving as soon as the bank had agreed to the loan.’
‘ That’s what he told you he needed the house for? The one you bought but put in his name?’
Charlotte nodded. ‘Fool that I was.’
‘ Did he ever say where his premises were up north?’
‘ He said that they were in the middle of the North Yorkshire moors. They needed absolute quiet when they were making films.’
‘ I’ll bet,’ thought Steven.
‘ Did he ever mention a name? Some place it was near perhaps?’
‘ Not exactly,’ said Charlotte. ‘Just that it was in the middle of nowhere but I once heard him talking on the phone in his study. He told whoever he was speaking to that he would see them at The Abbey on Monday.’
‘ The abbey? Nothing else?’
‘ Fraid not.’
‘ Well, it’s a start,’ said Steven.
‘ I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help,’ said Charlotte.
‘ You’ve been wonderful in the circumstances and I’m very grateful to you,’ said Steven. ‘I’m sorry I had to be the bearer of such shocking news but if it’s any comfort, your folks already know.’
‘ It is,’ said Charlotte. ‘Thank you for being so thoughtful.’
Steven phoned Sci-Med as soon as he got back to the car.
‘ You’re kidding! There must be a million places all over the country called, The Abbey,’ said the duty officer.
‘ You are looking for one in the middle of the North Yorkshire moors,’ said Steven. ‘It may be registered as the business address of a firm concerned with making promotional material for other companies. Films and websites and the like.’
‘ Glossy lies,’ murmured the man as he made notes. ‘I’ll do my best and call you back.’
Steven called McClintock to tell him the state of play.
‘ Not much to go on,’ said McClintock. ‘Want me to contact the Yorkshire Police and ask them?’
‘ Sci-Med’s on the case,’ said Steven.
Steven drove back to London feeling a sense of relief that Charlotte Little had now been told. She had taken it well although he suspected that all the implications of the news had not yet got through to her. The next few days were going to be extremely unpleasant when the press started to camp out on her doorstep.
It was eleven thirty when the phone rang. The duty man at Sci-Med said, ‘It’s about your enquiry this afternoon.’
‘ You’re working late,’ said Steven, recognising the same voice he had spoken to earlier.
‘ I like to see things through,’ said the man. ‘I didn’t come up with any place called, The Abbey, in Yorkshire that wasn’t a pub or a tea room.’
‘ It was a tall order,’ said Steven. ‘But thanks for trying.’
‘ I did however, come up with a place called, Friars Gate Abbey,’ said the duty man. It’s in the middle of the moors and it’s registered to a Belgian company called Cine Bruges. They make PR films.’
‘ Well done,’ murmured Steven approvingly. ‘You are a star.’
The man gave Steven details of the location of Friars Gate Abbey and asked if there was anything else he needed.
‘ Not right now, I’ll go up there in the morning and take a look at the place.’
‘ Do you want us to inform the Yorkshire Police that you’ll be on their patch?’
‘ No need for that,’ said Steven. ‘I’ll contact them directly if the place looks interesting.’
‘ Thought you might say that,’ said the man. ‘I’ve got the number for them in case you need to use it.’
Steven punched the number into his mobile phone memory as the man read it out. ‘You think of everything,’ he said. ‘Who needs a wife when I’ve got Sci-Med?’
‘ You don’t even have to take me out,’ said the duty officer.
Steven was on the road by six in the morning. After some thought he had decided not to go straight to The Abbey. The story of Little’s innocence was due to break in the morning papers and if Friars Gate was really Merton’s place then a fair amount of activity or even panic might be predicted. His plan now was to reach the general area by lunchtime and approach it on foot.
He had dressed for the task, wearing camouflage gear and lightweight combat boots suitable for fell walking. He had packed a small rucksack containing what he thought he might be likely to need. This included Carl Zeiss binoculars and a Canon camera equipped with a telephoto lens. He was also carrying a hand-held GPS navigation unit that would enable him to establish his exact position on the moors to within a few yards thanks to signals from several satellites. He would use this to navigate and record his approach the abbey, for which he had the grid reference thanks to a late night session with the on-line ordnance survey map of the area. He had also packed bottled water and a few energy bars in case he was there for some time. He made sure that his mobile phone was fully charged before setting out.
From the map he knew that there was only one access road to Friars Gate Abbey. It was a single track road stretching for some four miles across open moor land. Leaving his vehicle anywhere along the route would be bound to attract attention so he decided to abandon it well before the turn off from the B road and tab the remainder on foot. He didn’t have a heavy pack to carry so he was counting on being able to cover the distance in under an hour.
There were times on the way north when it seemed that rain was likely — not a cheering prospect for a trip across open country on foot — but a west wind kept the clouds on the move and the sky was still relatively bright
