“I’ve checked the metadata for the images, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Billy looked morose. “They changed it, so it has the right date and time for that night. Of course it’s not difficult to change the metadata, you just program the camera with the date and time you want it to imprint on the images. But even so, there’s three of them that will claim they were in Boston when it happened. Plus James and Oscar left their phones there, so their cell records will look right too. Like I said, they were clever.”
“You’ve still got to try! You’ve still got to tell them. You’ve got to put your side of it.”
Billy took a while answering. “I keep wanting to. But think about it. What’s actually going to happen? That bomb killed the security guard, and I’m the only person linked to it. That’s murder, as well as domestic terrorism. In fact, I researched it, and because of how it happened they’ll class it as aggravated murder. The sentence is life without parole. Plus they’ll think I faked my own death to escape, which is going to make me look even more guilty. And I don’t have any proof that James and Oscar were ever here, while they’ve got loads of proof they weren’t. If I go to the police now, I’ll go to prison, and I’ll never get out.
“But you can’t just sit here forever, pretending to be dead.” Amber’s happiness at finding Billy alive was slowly being replaced by a frustrated understanding of just how much trouble he was in. She remembered her interview with the FBI, the woman agent had seemed calm and decent, but there was no doubt she was serious. Of course they would prosecute him. They had plenty of evidence. In their minds he was guilty.
“The FBI agent knew you, by the way.”
“What?” Billy frowned, surprised for the first time in the conversation.
“She met you, when you got involved with that case with Olivia Curran. Years ago. She said you were eleven the last time she saw you.”
“I didn’t meet any FBI agents on that case. What was her name?”
Amber searched her mind. “I don’t remember. West. Agent West.”
“Jessica West? Detective Jessica West? She was with the police, not the FBI?”
Amber shrugged. “I guess she changed. Anyway, she knew you. I just thought I’d tell you.”
Billy frowned but didn’t reply.
“So what are you going to do?” Amber said again, a while later. “You can’t just wait here forever.” She was feeling the pressure now, she had to get the car back to Kelly. She had to explain to her mom why she was still on the island. But her own issues paled to nothing when she held them up against Billy’s.
“I’m not quite waiting here forever. I was waiting for you, because I’ve got a sort of plan.”
There was a change in his voice, and Amber snapped to attention.
“What plan? What can I do?”
Billy didn’t answer her, but instead got up again and walked to the fore cabin, she saw inside it was still a mess of cardboard boxes and sails. He picked up one box and brought it back. He opened it in front of her. She recognized some of the contents.
“Oh no. Not this again.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Years before, when she had first met Billy the two of them had started a detective agency. For her part, Amber was simply bored with her life, and wanted to capitalize on the notoriety that Billy had already established with his involvement in the Olivia Curran case. And it was kids’ stuff, barely serious – although once they managed to attract one client, a rich, batshit-crazy old woman, the attraction of getting some of her money had kept Amber interested. One result of the madness that followed was that Billy had developed an obsession with collecting all sorts of spy gear. He had listening devices, covert trackers, and a pile of software on memory sticks and CDs that she didn’t understand at all. And while it had seemed cool to her for a while, she’d quickly lost interest. She knew that Billy probably hadn’t, but it was a couple of years since she’d seen any of it, but now here it all was, piled up in the box.
“What’s this?”
“It’s my old kit I kept. Back from when we had the detective agency.”
“I know that. I mean what do you want to do with it?”
Billy didn’t answer at first. He pulled out what looked like a cellphone charger from the box, but one which, Amber knew, would also secretly record and transmit audio from wherever it was plugged in.
“Ideally I’d get you to buy some new ones. These are a bit old now.” Billy went on. “But they should still work.”
Amber didn’t reply, and Billy went through how they operated, showing her one cell phone charging device that secretly listened in to conversations, and another that was able to actually record video.
“But what do you want me to do with this?” Amber interrupted him.
“Lily’s got this house. In Boston. I need you to find a way to get inside, and set all this stuff up.”
Amber was silent for a few seconds. “Why? You said it wasn’t her that did it.”
“I know. But she’s back with James. So he’ll be there. And he might say something incriminating. If he does, I need to record it, and take it to the FBI. That way they might believe me.”
“Why would he say something incriminating? Does she know about it?” Amber asked, but Billy shook his head.
“He might say something though. They must talk about it, and it might give us a clue as to what this is all about. Something we can focus on. Of course it would be better to set up it all up in James’ rooms, but I can’t think how you’d get in there,
