There were others that had made her life miserable. She remembered them well. She ticked them off in her mind: 8, 9, 10.
It was a good number, but first she had to get back down south. She felt in the front pocket of her backpack; the ten thousand pounds in cash was still there. She could always buy new clothes, new disguises, and this time they would be quality.
Chapter 23
Fiona Hamilton died twenty-four hours after her daughter had visited the cottage. Her husband said it was a blessing.
Once they had been well liked and respected, but they had become outcasts. Rory Hewitt could only feel sadness for the man.
‘Broken heart,’ Hamilton said.
The doctor’s official statement was heart failure exacerbated by a weakened physical condition due to poor nutrition.
Rory phoned the team in London. Wendy, although she had not met the woman, cried on hearing the news, as did Sara Marshall. It brought a lump to Isaac’s throat as well.
Rory left the hospital at the same time as Charles Hamilton. He intended to return to the cottage on his own.
Back in London, Isaac called the team together. ‘The car she stole has been found.’
‘Where?’ Larry asked.
‘Consett, County Durham.’
‘Was she seen?’
‘We’re checking, but the local police believe she would have taken a bus and left the town.’
‘Direction?’
‘She can’t go to Newcastle unless it’s to deal with unfinished business.’
‘Gladys Lake,’ Larry said.
‘She will not find her.’
‘Safe location?’
‘Very safe. There’s no way Charlotte Hamilton can find her.’
‘That’s what you said about her parents, sir,’ Wendy reminded him. Isaac chose not to answer.
Sara Marshall and Sean O’Riordan joined the team at Challis Street.
‘Why can’t we find this woman?’ Sara asked. She looked nervous.
‘What’s the problem?’ Isaac asked.
‘We’re targets. You realise that?’
‘It had crossed my mind.’
‘I have a child. This woman is willing to kill her own parents. She would not have any issues with an infant.’
‘You’d better find somewhere for your son,’ Isaac said.
‘She can’t do that,’ Wendy said. ‘No mother would part with their child indefinitely.’
‘Not even when their child may be at risk?’
‘Isaac’s right,’ Sara said. ‘If I stay with my son, she will find us eventually, and besides, I can’t disappear. I know her from three years ago, and so far, Isaac and myself are the only ones who have been close to her.’
Larry felt inclined to make a comment. Isaac was still smarting over the rollicking that he had received from Richard Goddard, and was not in the mood to be reminded of the scurrilous reports in the newspapers and on the internet, not to mention the remarks in the police station.
Sara left the office. If Charlotte Hamilton were on her way, it would only be hours before she arrived. Sara had a place to take her son; she only hoped he would be safe there.
Isaac, aware that he was also in danger, organised a gun for himself. He offered to arrange one for Sara, but she declined.
Wendy and Larry went out to the Chalmers’ home. Eventually, after the kitchen had been cleaned and repainted, Stephanie Chalmers had moved back in. The area where her husband had died had been bricked off. It reduced the size of the kitchen, and Stephanie did not like to spend time in there. She had organised a cook to prepare all the meals.
Charlotte Hamilton was coming back, and it was important to visit all the places, all the people that she had been involved with, to reanalyse any item of interest that could possibly help them to find her. The police had been given a directive to approach the woman with care, as she was extremely dangerous. If she did not accede to an order, they were licensed to use a Taser. If there was further resistance, they had the authority to shoot.
Charlotte’s website had been updated. Her ramblings were more incoherent, although that did not seem to concern her followers, whose numbers continued to increase.
***
Stephanie Chalmers had not been able to help much. Her life appeared to have returned to pre-Ingrid Bentham. Wendy and Larry saw little to be gained by interviewing her more. Gloria was out of the country and safe, and there could only be three obvious targets: Isaac Cook, Sara Marshall, and Gladys Lake.
The movements of all three were being monitored, although Gladys Lake was the most difficult to protect. She had an agenda, and a presentation at a conference on mental health in London was more important to her than her personal safety. She had been warned not to go out on her own enough times, but she continued to ignore the advice.
There had been a couple of times at St Nicholas Hospital when she had absent-mindedly wandered off on her own. The assumption that she was safe within the confines of the building were incorrect. It was not a prison, purely a secure location.
After the death of Fiona Hamilton, Rory had kept in contact with Charles Hamilton. His wife was buried in a moving ceremony attended by Hamilton’s immediate family, a few morbid onlookers, Rory, and three members of the press. Apart from that, there was no one else.
The priest had followed the traditional service, omitting any mention of the Hamilton’s children. Charles Hamilton read a eulogy. He mentioned the son, but not the daughter. Rory thought the man looked old, even though he was only two years older than him. He had been a university lecturer, but at the lectern in the small church he had mumbled, sometimes incoherently, as though his mind was going. Rory put it
