Jack entered the squad room with an uncharacteristic spring in his step and came to an abrupt halt. Maggie was sitting in Ridley’s office. She should have been in bed, resting before her night shift. Jack slowed to a snail’s pace.
Maggie stood to meet him.
‘Penny called.’
She was looking at Jack in exactly the same way he imagined she looked at the relatives of dying patients, with an air of professionalism that allowed her to speak without becoming emotional.
‘Charlie’s in hospital in St Lucia. DCI Ridley knows and he’s agreed to let you go.’
Chapter 34
On the interview table in front of Geoffrey was a pile of tissues, and Ridley was seriously considering whether to send Laura for a second box. Normally, an interviewee would get upset when asked a specific question, or when reminded of details that were worrying them, or just before they were charged with something. But Geoffrey was simply mourning the woman he loved with all of his heart and soul. He had been a client of Ester’s since the mid-eighties and, when she got out of prison for the murder of Dolly Rawlins, he had volunteered to take her in. He hadn’t been the most exciting man in the world, personality — or sexuality-wise — but he’d been a very fast learner and, in the end, Ester and Geoffrey had made a formidable team. Between them, they’d alienated half of the Isle of Wight with their elaborate antics — Ester had once taken Geoffrey to the post office on a diamante dog leash. They’d thought it was the funniest thing in the world.
‘What can we do to help you, Mr Porter-Lewis?’ Ridley asked. ‘Would you like a drink?’
‘Sparkling water, please,’ Geoffrey whispered.
Ridley rolled his eyes and sent Laura to the canteen.
‘You know you’re not in any trouble, right? We don’t think Ester revealed her plans to you, so all we really want to know is whether you have any idea where she was heading after Southampton.’
Geoffrey shook his head in a series of short, sharp movements.
‘She never loved me,’ he sniffled, blowing spit bubbles as he endeavoured to smile. ‘I gave her half of my life and all of the love I had, but she never loved me back. I was OK with that because she liked me — and Ester never liked anyone.’ He paused long enough for Ridley to inch towards the door. ‘Love would have been an awfully big adventure, if only she’d allowed me to show her the way.’
It was the most Geoffrey had said since arriving at the station. He seemed to want Ridley to stay; Ridley would have done if he’d thought for one second he’d get something remotely useful from him at the end of all that dribbling. But that wasn’t going to happen.
The flight to St Lucia was long. Jack was silent and Maggie didn’t push him for conversation. He was in a world of his own, so all she did was hold his hand as a sign that she was there for him when he needed her. She glanced to her left every now and then to see if his furrowed brow had lifted, but it hadn’t. In all of their time together, Jack had never lost anyone close; she imagined he’d now be flicking through the memories of his life with Charlie, and longing for those unrepeatable years gone by.
In fact, Jack was wondering how a bunch of old-school women, who’d learnt their tricks and cons back in the eighties and nineties, would go about getting new passports more than twenty years later. He was convinced that, since the train robbery in ’95, they’d have had no connection with the criminal world at all — Ester went to prison and the others went straight. What Ridley and his team should be doing now is looking back at forgers from twenty years ago. Eddie Rawlins would know exactly whose door to knock on. God, he wished he wasn’t flying to St Lucia! He glanced to his right and saw Maggie’s face. He softened his brow and squeezed her hand.
‘We’ll get him home,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve boxed up your “evidence wall” and put up some old family photos for them. I’m sure your mum and dad don’t want to lie in bed looking at ex-cons and crime scene photos.’
Jack forced a smile. ‘You’ve done exactly the right thing,’ he said. ‘And I’m sorry for leaving it all to you.’
‘I know this case is important to you. I know it’s revealed some unexpected things from your past but, Jack, all of that can wait. Ridley has the case in hand, and as for your revelation about Harry Rawlins, well... he’s not going anywhere, is he?’ Maggie’s face lost some of its empathy. ‘I can’t see how he’s a man to be proud of, Jack. Charlie’s a man to be proud of. The next few days will be so important for you as a family, so don’t let anything distract you.’
‘Days?’
Jack suddenly looked like a little boy coming to terms with the loss of his very first loved one — it didn’t matter how much you explained about the cycle of life, the hurt would be overwhelming and it would be Maggie’s job to rock him to sleep when the end had come and gone.
Maggie leant her head on his shoulder.
‘Life goes on.’ Her words were oddly upbeat.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Jack.
‘Nothing,’ she said.
But he could see how her eyes sparkled.
‘This is completely the wrong moment,’ Maggie went on, floundering.
Jack let out a laugh.
‘You’re pregnant!’ he shouted, so loud the whole cabin could hear. ‘It’s exactly the right moment,’ he said, showering Maggie with rapid-fire kisses. ‘Marry me!’
Jack blurted the words out, and they were as much of a shock to him as they were to her. Marriage had been mentioned in the past, but they always said they’d wait to be more settled, more financially comfortable, more secure. It was nonsense. They’d been doing things in order and now, 35,000 feet above the North Atlantic Ocean, everything was suddenly out of order. Charlie was dying, Maggie was pregnant and Jack was proposing. The world was turning, however painful that might be, and they had no option but to turn with it. The entire cabin had heard the question, and although Maggie whispered the answer only to Jack, the instant round of applause showed they thought she must have given the right answer.
Maggie’s words swam around in Jack’s head: the pregnancy; boxing up his ‘evidence wall’; accepting his proposal; Harry not being a dad to be proud of; Charlie only having days left.
Thinking of Charlie made Jack feel comfortable and safe; thinking of Harry made him feel edgy and excited. Men wanted to be like Harry and women wanted to be with Harry. It must be amazing for someone to have such an impact on those around him. But would Harry fly for nine hours to collect his dad and then care for him until the day he died? Would he feel this much weight in his heart at the thought of losing the man who’d taught him to ride a bike, chat up girls, make a bow and arrow, and appreciate the beauty of the English countryside? Had Harry ever really loved anyone? Jack was proud to belong to Charlie Warr. And he hoped that his child would be proud to belong to him.
Robert Chuke’s face was now on the evidence board, alongside Angela’s. Ridley had just got off the phone to Police Captain Gallatos of the Hellenic Gendarmerie in Greece, who had said categorically that the coach they were searching for had not crossed his borders.
‘Right!’ Ridley barked as he emerged from his office. ‘We’re going to focus on Angela Dunn and Robert Chuke. She’s the youngest. She went from being a maid in a brothel, to being a housewife and mother. She wasn’t even trusted to be at The Grange on the night of the train robbery — she was off somewhere babysitting Kathleen O’Reilly’s kids. And she wouldn’t have had the nous to lie to her own kids about going to Greece, so I still think that’s where they’ve headed. Maybe they dumped the coach. But she’s our weak link. We find her, we find them all.’