‘Woolston could have had a knighthood by now,’ General Claude Smythe said. The second son of a duke, he had chosen the army over politics. His brother, Cameron, the first son, the secretary of state for defence, sat opposite.
‘That’s the trouble with these idealistic fools,’ Claude Smythe said. ‘They somehow believe that the best security for this country, the world, is if we all universally disarm and live together in peace and harmony.’
‘When the strength is in having the ultimate deterrent,’ his brother replied. Since the formulas had been discovered on the internet, their meetings had become more regular. Neither man was idealistic, not even men of the people. As the sons of a duke they believed in their superior breeding. Men such as Woolston were expendable unless they had something to offer, something that would benefit them.
‘Do we take Barrow into our confidence?’ Claude Smythe asked.
‘The man went and married Woolston’s widow. Can he be trusted?’
‘Uncertain.’
‘Expendable?’
‘If he makes the wrong decisions.’
‘Is that likely?’
‘We’ve kept a watch on him over the years. He’d been instructed to keep a watch on the man’s wife, see if he had kept a record of his work somewhere, but what does he do?’
‘He beds the damn woman and then marries her. Even offered to adopt her daughter.’
‘The wife and daughter, can we use them as levers?’
‘Why not. What do a couple of women matter?’
‘The weapon is more important. We need Woolston alive.’
‘The police want him arrested.’
‘Pressure can be brought to bear.’
‘You’d do that?’
‘Why not? The defence of the realm is at stake here. Do we care that Woolston has committed murder?’
‘Getting rid of Hutton was a benefit to us. Woolston saved us the trouble.’
Chapter 19
Gwen Barrow was disturbed by all that had happened. She knew that she had married Ed out of loneliness, and although she loved him, it was not the same as the passion that she had felt for Malcolm. Back then, they had been young and carefree, optimistic for the future, discussing a family, and then Sally had come along. Both of them had loved her equally, but then there had been the rough years when their daughter had strayed off the track and had found bad men and bad drugs, a result of Malcolm not being there for her.
She knew she should feel anger for what he had put them all through, but she was confused by the love that she still felt. Now he was around again, had been around for years. She wondered if he had seen her making a fool of herself the first few times she had tried the dating market. She hoped he hadn’t. She felt embarrassed about what he might have seen, her attempts at relieving the sexual frustrations that she felt, the inappropriate men, the inappropriate places. If he could remain hidden for so long, then he had probably seen her, presumably seen their daughter making the same mistakes.
Where had he been? Was he watching her now? She looked out of the window. A couple on the other side of the road, a child on the way home from school, a man of about the right age but not tall enough. She knew she was concerning herself with a man who had died in her mind, not in her heart, a decade previously, and now he was back, and he was killing people. The thoughts were too much. She poured herself a glass of wine, switched on the television, switched it off, poured another glass of wine. A knock at the door. Was it him? Was it the man she had given herself to as a teenager, the father of her child? What would she say? What would she do?
The knocking continued. Gwen got up from her chair. She knew instantly that she had drunk almost a full bottle of wine and that she was lightheaded.
Opening the door, she could see that it wasn’t either of her husbands, it was her daughter. ‘Mother, what have you been doing?’
‘I’ve just had a drink.’
‘A few drinks.’ Sally walked to the kitchen and put on the kettle.
When she returned, carrying two coffees, one with milk, the other black, her mother was curled up in a foetal position in one of the chairs. ‘Why?’ her mother said repeatedly.
Sally had only come to see her mother, as she was troubled as well. She had intended to keep the meeting with her father a secret, but with her mother, she knew she could not. ‘I’ve seen him,’ she said.
‘Where?’ Gwen sat up and sipped her coffee.
‘He approached Susie and me.’
‘Did you recognise him?’
‘Not at first, but it was him. It was hard. My father was dead, I’ve known that since I was a child, and there he is, in front of me.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He said he was sorry, and that he loves us.’
‘The murders?’
‘He said he had saved countless thousands by his actions. Susie liked him.’
‘He held her?’
‘No, but he gave her back her toy after she had dropped it. She held onto his finger, almost as if she knew who he was.’
‘Did he tell you why he faked his death, and where he’s been?’
‘Not there. A policeman came over and disturbed us.’
‘I want to see him,’ Gwen said.
‘We cannot tell anyone,’ Sally said.
‘Ed?’
‘Especially not Ed.’
‘Did he say that?’
‘No, but there is animosity.’
‘Why?’
‘You married
