‘I’m pleased you’ve done well at work, that you’ve got to where you always wanted to be. Head of Major Crime. Detective Superintendent. I like that, it sounds good, sort of suits you.’
He smiled. ‘Thanks.’
‘And you’ve got the son you always wanted. Noah’s a nice name. Very biblical.’
‘Yes, I suppose it is. We both just liked it. So you’ve heard my download; now tell me what’s been happening in your life. I’ve heard bits and pieces.’
She gave him an almost guilty smile. ‘I expect you’ve heard the bad bits, the drugs and depression and failed relationships. I’ve got some good bits too — I’m independently wealthy and I’ve got a son who’s ten.’
‘OK, so what I have to know is why you left me? What happened, where did you go? Did I do something wrong?’
‘It’s a long story, Roy, but not for today. I will explain, I promise.’
‘OK, tell me about your son. Bruno, is that his name?’
She nodded.
‘Who’s the father?’
‘That’s also for another day, Roy.’
‘OK, let’s focus on the future then. How’s your recovery going, what are your plans when you get out?’
‘I haven’t been doing that well. They told me a while ago that I was lucky to be alive — that when they brought me in they didn’t expect me to survive. I’ve had a serious head injury, I’ve got a spinal injury and I don’t know yet if I’ll ever be able to walk properly — without a limp or a stick. They’ve removed my spleen. My face is a mess, I’ll be permanently scarred — who’s going to want me? And I worry about Bruno.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘Friends are looking after him for the moment. It’s not been easy bringing up a child as a single mum, even with the money.’
‘Have you spoken to your parents?’
‘No.’
‘Do you want me to call them?’
‘No, I’ll speak to them when I’m — when I’m ready.’
‘Are there any other people you’d like me to contact?’
‘No, certainly not. How did you find me anyway? I didn’t want you here, I really don’t want to be doing this. I don’t need this right now, it’s too much, Roy.’
‘You know there are all kinds of legal ramifications. I’m going to have to report this to both the German and Sussex Police.’
‘You had me declared dead.’
He started to raise his voice. ‘What the hell did you expect me to do?’
She closed her eyes for some moments and appeared to have fallen asleep again. Suddenly, she said, ‘I’m due to see the consultant this week, he’s going to talk about my treatment in the future and my prognosis. Now I’m starting to get stronger, slowly, they’ll be wanting to move me out of this hospital. But I’m quite worried about that, I don’t know how I’m going to cope on my own. I feel so alone, Roy. So alone in the world. Now you’re bringing me all this, I can’t face it.’ She began to cry.
He took her hand again and held it tightly. ‘You’ll be fine. I’ll do what I can to help. It wasn’t my intention to upset you, but I have to know the truth — you turned my life upside down, and now you’re doing it again.’ He paused for a moment. ‘There’s something that might make you smile. Remember Marlon? The goldfish I won at that fairground on the Level in Brighton by target shooting — I guess about eleven years ago? We brought it home in a plastic bag, and we didn’t know if it was a him or her. You named him Marlon, after Marlon Brando, because you thought he was such a moody creature. You said that fairground goldfish never live for long and it would be dead in a few months. Well, you know what, he’s still alive! Still going strong. Still miserable as hell! I’ve bought him several companions over the years, and each time the sod has eaten them! I love that fish because — it may sound daft — because he’s been the one connection I still have to you. Every day when I wake up and go downstairs, I hope he’s still alive and that I’m not going to find him floating on the top of his tank. And when I see him, I smile. You probably think that’s daft, don’t you?’
‘I think you should leave now, Roy, I didn’t ask you to come. I’m getting tired,’ was all she said in reply.
He let go of her hand. ‘Well, I still need answers. I’ll come back and see you again soon.’
He turned and walked out of the room, looking back at her one last time.
Sandy lay there, tears streaming down her face.
74
Tuesday 10 March
The plane touched down at Heathrow Airport, shortly after 4 p.m., slowed and then began taxiing. A cabin crew member’s voice crackled through the intercom that passengers were now welcome to use their mobile phones.
Roy Grace had already jumped the gun and switched his back on. As soon as he got a signal, his phone beeped with a series of text and voicemail messages.
The first was from Kelly Nicholls, the financial investigator he had tasked to find anything she could on the names he had given her. Nicholls asked him to call, saying she had some information for him.
He rang her back and it went to voicemail. He left a message.
The next was a text from the Coroner’s Officer, Michelle Websdale, saying that Jodie had cleared Heathrow immigration that morning at about 7.15 a.m.
The next was a text from Branson.
He rang him. Glenn answered after two rings.
‘How did it go, mate?’ Branson asked him.
‘Didn’t get many answers, she looked bloody terrible. But she is awake and getting stronger, so we’ll see her again soon — and hopefully find out just why on earth she left. And she’s got a kid. There are all kinds of legal questions I’m going to have to sort out — God knows how she’s going to start explaining it to everyone. Especially her parents. It’s a complete mess.’ He looked at his wife. They’d spent the entire short flight from Munich talking about Sandy.
‘Jeez,’ Branson replied.
‘How about you, what’s your news, mate?’
‘I have a significant development to report regarding Crisp. The French police are dropping charges.’
‘What?’
‘Seems he wasn’t the killer of the sex worker. Her boyfriend has confessed. According to the police here he was her pimp, high on crack cocaine, and had a row with her about money after seeing her get out of Crisp’s car. He thought she was pocketing some of her clients’ money. Apparently he’s made a full confession.’
‘So our dear, sweet, Dr Crisp is an innocent little baby?’
‘So far as the French police are concerned, yes.’
‘Great. So now we can move forward with the extradition process?’
‘As I understand it, they’re very happy to get him off their hands. Formalities for his extradition are being fast-tracked and the paperwork authorizing his release to the Extradition Unit should be signed later today by a French Presiding Magistrate. The Extradition Unit are arranging to bring him back to the UK tomorrow.’
‘So where are you now and what are your plans?’
‘We’re checking into a hotel at the moment. Norman’s been trying to chat up the receptionist. We’re going to liaise with the Extradition Unit and see Crisp tomorrow morning.’
‘Good man.’
‘Doesn’t seem the French police are over the moon to see us. No one’s invited us to any gourmet dinner. Looks like it’s going to be me and Norman — and the receptionist if he pulls.’
‘Good to know he’s getting back to his old form.’
‘Yeah? That stingy sod Tony Case has booked us into a double room. I’m going to have to share with Norman and put up with him snoring. Just hope he doesn’t get anywhere with the receptionist. Don’t fancy the idea of having to listen to him shagging his arse off all night.’