thought.
He pointed to the photo. ‘That’s him, isn’t it?’ he said.
Sophie didn’t reply.
‘In the photo. That’s him, your brother. Heston. Hester. Is that right?’ He didn’t wait for an answer, kept talking. ‘The husband doesn’t exist, does he? There’s just your brother. That’s why he wants these babies. Because he can’t have children himself. That’s it, isn’t it?’
Sophie didn’t raise her head, just nodded.
Phil was breathing heavily, like he’d just run a marathon. ‘Hillfield. Wrabness. Croft… yes?’
She nodded again. ‘But he won’t be there…’
He looked down. Sophie was still curled in on herself.
‘What d’you mean?’
‘I phoned him. When I was brought in. If he’s got any sense, he’ll have gone by now.’
‘Where?’
She shrugged. ‘In the wind…’
‘Shit…’
The door opened. Phil turned, ready to shout at whoever was there, throw them out physically if need be. But it was Adrian Wren. And Phil knew he wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important. The look on his face told him so.
‘Boss…’ Adrian gestured to him.
Phil told the tape the interview had been terminated, stepped outside.
‘We’ve had Wivenhoe on the phone,’ Adrian said. ‘Marina’s place has been trashed. Her… partner?’
‘Tony,’ said Phil, remembering his name this time.
‘Right. He was found lying on the floor, head smashed in from the look of it. Ambulance is on its way.’
‘Any sign of-’
‘No, boss.’
Marina. The baby…
Phil felt the familiar bands stretch across his chest. His head was spinning, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He hoped he had heard wrongly, but he was sure he hadn’t. Then something struck him. ‘Ambulance? He’s still alive?’
‘Barely. But they’ll see what they can do. Attacked with a hammer, it looks like.’
‘Just like Caroline Eades…’
Phil nodded, eyes on the floor. He remembered his promise to Marina. He would always be there for her. He would never let her be harmed again. Panic rose within him. He fought it down. He looked at the closed door of the interview room.
‘And she knows? Sitting in there, she fucking knows…’
He lunged for the door, ran inside the room. Sophie looked up from the table, startled, then terrified as Phil came hurtling towards her.
He didn’t get far. The door opened and two uniforms rushed in, restraining him.
‘Bad news?’ said Sophie, once she realised she was in no immediate danger. She laughed.
He was screaming as they pulled him away. Out of the door and into the corridor.
‘Oh God,’ he said. ‘Marina…’
75
Marina opened her eyes. It made no difference. It was as dark with them open as it was with them closed.
She tested her arms. They were sore, as was the rest of her, but untied. Was that a good thing or not? Was it an oversight by her captor? Or had she been placed somewhere she had no chance of escaping from?
She stretched out one hand, felt around. Slowly, cautiously, not sure what unpleasant, unexpected surprises she would find in the dark. Nothing. Just a hard-packed earth floor. She lowered her head, smelled it. Musty, damp. Underground, she thought. A cellar or basement?
Panic began to well inside her. Trapped. Underground. Palpitations took hold of her chest, made her breathing difficult.
‘No, oh no…’
And there was Martin Fletcher in her mind. Standing in her office, blocking the only escape route. And she was once more praying for Phil to come and rescue her but fearing he wouldn’t.
‘No, not again, not again…’
Sobbing now, in terrified desperation, she stood up. Stretched her hands tentatively towards the ceiling. It was low, crossed by wooden beams. Definitely underground.
She sat back on the floor once more. Curled into herself.
Phil said he would never let her down. Never place her in danger again.
Phil had lied.
She screwed her eyes up tight, opened them again quickly, hoping that light from somewhere would filter in once they became adjusted. Nothing. Just pitch-black darkness as before.
She felt her stomach. No rest now. No relaxation now.
She tamped down the hysteria that was rising once more within her.
Hoped that Phil – or someone – would be coming to get her.
Ignoring that little voice in the back of her mind that said she had been lucky with Martin Fletcher. She had got out alive. She wouldn’t be that lucky again. No one would find her. She had been abandoned.
She hugged her arms about herself.
Not daring to move.
And cried.
‘I don’t know what came over me,’ said Phil. ‘Very unprofessional. Won’t happen again.’
He was in Fenwick’s office, facing him over the desk. Sweating and dishevelled and wanting to get moving but knowing he had to go through this before he could do anything else. He had been hauled in as soon as he had been pulled off Sophie Gale. Anni and the rest of the team were following up the leads that had come from the interview.
Fenwick regarded him from the other side of the desk as coolly and levelly as possible. It looked like he was also struggling to remain calm and professional.
‘I shouldn’t have done the interview, sir. I was too closely involved. And you probably don’t want me to go to Wrabness now. I understand.’ Phil’s voice, his stance said he didn’t understand at all.
Fenwick sighed. ‘What a mess,’ he said. ‘All round. And I can’t have a go at you for what you’ve done because you can just come back at me for…’
‘Your earlier interference.’
‘Thank you for reminding me.’ Another sigh from Fenwick. ‘But at the end of the day…’
Here it comes, thought Phil, King Cliche rides again…
‘At the end of the day, we’ve got to work together. So you’re still CIO on this case and you’re going to Wrabness.’
Phil felt relief flood through him. ‘Thanks, boss.’
‘But no more mistakes. If we screw this up, the CPS will be on us like a ton of bricks.’
‘Sir.’ Phil turned to leave the office.
‘And Phil?’
He stopped.
Fenwick looked pained and tired. As if he’d learned something but that knowledge had been forced on him. ‘I don’t blame you. I’d have probably done the same. But well done on the interview.’
‘Thank you, boss.’
Phil left the office, went to the bar. It was alive with activity. The team were getting suited and tooled up, uniforms putting on protective gear. A firearms unit had been called out. Anni was in the centre of it, co-ordinating.
