‘So you decided to take hers. Just like that.’
He looked as if he were going to respond straight away, then changed his mind. Dramatically he switched tack.
‘No, no, I will not give in to you, I will never admit it, never, not any of it,’ he cried. Swiftly he got up from his chair, came around to the front of the desk, took me by both shoulders and began to shake me.
‘How could you do this to me?’ he shouted in my face. ‘How could you? I love you, you stupid bitch. I was obsessed with you from the start. Do you think I would have chosen to get involved with a fucking police detective? I couldn’t help it, I loved you so much.’
‘And I have loved you, Robin,’ I said. Although I was becoming afraid of him I remained surprisingly calm. ‘More than you will probably ever know.’
The words made some kind of impact, I think. He stopped shaking me, and stood back. I could see him physically pulling himself together, trying to clear his thoughts. That public-school training again, I thought obscurely. I had managed to keep hold of the key. Curiously, perhaps, he hadn’t even tried to take it from me. I put it back in my pocket.
‘As for being obsessed with me, Robin, the only obsession you have ever had is Abri Island,’ I carried on. ‘You once told me that you loved the place more than life itself. I now know, without doubt, that to be the absolute truth, and that you were prepared to do anything, put hundreds of lives at risk and even commit cold-blooded murder, anything at all, in order to keep your island.’
His eyes were still blazing. ‘Think what you like,’ he snapped. Then he seemed to make another resolute effort to regain control.
‘In any case,’ he said, in a quieter, less hysterical voice. ‘The evidence you have is still flimsy. Whatever you think you might know and proving it are two different things.’
‘It is my professional opinion that there is enough evidence on which to build a substantial case against you,’ I replied evenly.
He stared at me for a few seconds. You could almost see the wheels turning over inside his head. Once more he changed direction dramatically. He had always been quick to react, quick to grasp at any advantage he might have in however tight a spot. He even conjured up a small to-die-for smile as he played his final card. The card which had invariably been his trump.
He reached out very gently with one hand and touched the side of my face. Suddenly his eyes were smouldering instead of blazing, and his voice was husky when he spoke again.
‘You won’t be able to do it,’ he said. ‘You’d miss what we have too much, wouldn’t you? Remember last night? Remember how you felt inside? I think you must have known then, or very nearly, but you couldn’t stop yourself wanting me, could you? Couldn’t stop your body exploding for me. I’ll bet you’re still tingling from it.’
I could feel the heat of his breath now. He leaned abruptly forward and kissed me on the mouth, his tongue pushing my lips apart, seeking my tongue. He was so confident of his power over me. The nerve of the man was staggering. I willed myself to feel nothing.
Outside I heard the sirens of police cars. Brakes squealed. Doors slammed. Robin heard it too. He stepped back and he looked more surprised than anything else.
‘It’s all over,’ I told him, and I rubbed my mouth against my sleeve to rid myself of his taste.
Epilogue
Three months have passed. Robin has been charged with the murder of Natasha Felks, attempting to murder Julia and the manslaughter of the forty-four people killed in the Abri disaster.
I am still in shock. I feel numbed by the immensity of all that has happened. It takes a huge effort of will for me just to get out of bed in the mornings. I don’t know how long it will be before I can function properly again. Nonetheless, I am also aware of a certain relief. At least it has ended. I know the worst now.
I am being helped to cope — allegedly — by the attentions of assorted doctors and, of course, those strange people called counsellors who read into my state of mind peculiarities that I haven’t previously considered. Mostly they want to give me drugs of one sort or another, usually hiding under fancy names, but still drugs. I continue to prefer to drown my sorrows in The Macallan, which both Julia and I consider to be one of the few signs of hope around.
Robin was arrested the same day that I summoned the police to his office and has been remanded in custody ever since. I have not seen him again, and neither do I ever wish to do so. I have received several letters from him which I have returned unopened. Sometimes, just sometimes, there really is nothing to say.
He will stand trial before the end of the year. Predictably, however, he plans to plead not guilty, which means I will have to face a Crown Court cross-examination, from a brief no doubt already looking forward to having wonderful fun with a Detective Chief Inspector who has failed so dismally both professionally and personally.
The Crown Court cannot force me to give evidence against my husband, of course, but what choice do I have? I really couldn’t live with myself if I refused.
I suppose I always realised that my overwhelming passion for Robin made it impossible for me to be objective about him. I still cannot believe, though, quite how blind I was. Julia, who seems to be totally well again, thank God, says it wasn’t like that — I saw, but I wouldn’t accept. That might be worse, I reckon. Julia also says I’m to remember that a government enquiry which sat for several months completely exonerated Robin — and even she did not really suspect that he was guilty until almost the very end.
‘Surely nobody expects intelligent reason in anything the Government does, and you have the excuse of having suffered brain damage,’ I told her glumly.
‘Thanks,’ she said, raising her eyebrows at me. But I knew she didn’t mind. She is as glad as I am that I am recovering — if not my sense of humour — at least my sense of the ridiculous. I reckon I’m going to need it.
I have resigned from the force, of course. Ultimately I felt I had no choice. I didn’t see how I could go back, or even how I could expect The Job to have me back. I no longer even want to remain a policewoman. Curious, I suppose, as my career has always been the driving force of my life. But I now know with absolute certainty that it cannot continue.
Peter Mellor has been promoted to Detective Inspector and not before time. He came to see me when he heard that I was quitting and told me he was going to miss me. I’m not sure if he was telling the truth but if he was fibbing, then I’m grateful to him for bothering. He also told me he would continue, on my behalf, to drive Titmuss the Terrible barking at every opportunity.
On the day Robin was arrested, and I eventually stopped kidding myself that there was even the slightest chance that he might be an innocent man, it felt as if my life was finished, not just my career. Now I am trying to make myself believe that I can start again. I have to build from scratch. Even the basic foundations of my old life have been ripped from beneath me.
Abri remains unlikely to be inhabited for a very long time to come, if ever. The Japanese consortium AKEKO backed away from any plans to resurrect the island faster than the speed of light after Robin was arrested. They have launched proceedings to sue him for every penny they paid him to lease the island. I am advised that they are likely to get it, and they are merely heading the queue of victims and victim’s families who are now suing Robin for damages.
My sister Clem called me a few weeks ago. I think Julia may have told her of the part we both played in Robin’s arrest. I was overjoyed to hear from her, particularly as I had deliberately held back from contacting her.
‘Now do you understand how I feel?’ she asked.