“How can I be her? I mean, she had a life up to this point, so what the hell happened to her?” Tamsyn asked, trying to make sense of it all.
“I took the liberty of calling your uncle, Thomas.”
“My Uncle?”
“He wasn’t in, but I managed to speak to Helen, your aunt. She told me that you were in Portsmouth, or somewhere. I got the impression that things are a little strained between you?”
Tamsyn shrugged. This was all weird. She felt that things were getting out of hand.
Gwen paused.
“Now, you think this is peculiar, wait until you hear this,” she said, tapping the newspaper report.
“This comes from the website of the local paper, dated the day after the event, supposedly.”
Supposedly?”
“Yes, you see, I’m an amateur historian, and, as it happens, I was researching this crash for someone just five days ago. I printed out a copy of the report from the same paper. Here it is.”
She handed over another sheet, dated the same day, and in the same page of the newspaper.
Coach Crash Tragedy in Italy
The small community of Perranarworthal
was stunned last night over the death of
two of its residents – John (41) and Martha (38)
Morrghan from Perrinpow Farm. The couple,
in their early forties, were on holiday in
the beautiful region of Lake Garda when
their coach left the road and fell down a steep
embankment. Six died, and another eight were
seriously injured, including the driver.
Police stated that they suspected that the driver
may have fallen asleep at the wheel.
The couple have no children, but John’s brother
Thomas Morrghan and his wife Helen, were devastated
by the news and will look after her at their farm next
door – Penhallow Farm until the funeral and the
estate can be dealt with. It is understood that
John left the farm to his brother in his will.
The Morrghan family have been in the area for
many generations. The two brothers’ father,
William Morrghan, bought Penhallow farm
just before retiring. He gave each of his sons
one farm. Thomas is now assuming control
of Perrinpow farm until the will is divulged
and probate completed. The travel company –
Ace Travel from Falmouth is considering
legal action against the coach company.
“I don’t understand. How can they be childless one day, and then, a couple of days later, I pop up?”
Gwen smiled.
“There, you answered the question – you popped up. History had to be rewritten, so you slotted into the fabric of time as a real person. I’m sure that if we looked, there will be photographs in the home, records with the local hospital, even a birth certificate. And I very much doubt that any of them existed before you ‘popped up’.”
They looked at the paper, and as they watched, the writing blurred and changed before their very eyes. Now, both articles were identical, as the older report had changed to mirror the new one.
“This is crazy,” the confused girl said.
“Yes it is. It’s as if the past is being rewritten subtly. So, who were you up until the moment you placed that thing round your neck?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does, because if she still exists, then you can’t exist.”
“It wasn’t a she,” Tamsyn admitted reluctantly.
Gwen stared at her.
“Ah, the American!” she said, as the penny dropped. “You killed him off?”
“In a way. Look, you can’t mention this to anyone!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, who the hell would believe me, anyway?”
“How did this... I mean, how could I, um... how?” Tamsyn said, still reeling from the realisation that somehow, her fictitious character from an RP game was now rewritten into reality with a root in the ancient history of this region. It was a mindboggling concept, and her mind was still well and truly boggled.
“My goodness, I haven’t the foggiest, dear girl. I think, though, you and I need to have a complete and open talk about the past, present and future. This is a lot more serious than the disappearance of an overweight American tourist and the arrival of a blast from the past. First though, why don’t I make a nice cup of tea?”
Detective Constable Ray Howard received a phone call from the forensic people. The laptop had been given to them to discover what was on the hard drive and to see if there was anything of any evidential value on it.
“Clean as a whistle, whoever did this was a pro,” said Hugh Greenwood, the computer nerd at HQ.
“Did what?” asked Ray, who could just about play solitaire and use the word processor to write a statement.
“The hard drive is wiped almost clean. There is the OS, Windows 10 and a few programs, but nothing personal at all. No documents stored, no photographs, no music and not even any games apart from the basic that came with the OS.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Oh my, yes. There are no emails, no social media sites, nothing. What did he use it for?”
“His wife said that he was always playing games.”
“Not according to any programs on this he wasn’t. Oh, it’s a very different machine to the case. It’s way more powerful than most modern laptops, and it’s quite old now, at least three years old. This man, was he into IT?”
“He did it for a living, I think. He was an IT engineer.”
“Soft or hardware?”
“I have no idea. Look, this is a misper enquiry, so there’s not a lot of background.”
“My guess is that he built this machine himself, and it has a lot of hardware crammed into a small package. He’s very good; I’ll give him that. His computer at home must be a real beauty. Is there any way we could get a hold of that?”
“I doubt it, but I can ask; why?”
“Look, if his wife got a hitman to take him out for the insurance, it stands to reason there might be something on the main computer.”
“She’s on her way back already, if not already there,” Ray pointed out.
“Then call the FBI, or someone, as this could prove motive and opportunity.”
Ray had always thought that Hugh was a bit of a geek and didn’t really exist in the real world. Now, he had mentioned things that got him thinking.
“Okay, how about fingerprints?”
“Three sets; the wife’s, the guesthouse woman and what I assume belong to the owner’s. There’s only the owner’s on the keyboard.”
“Okay, I’ll speak to the DI (Detective Inspector).”
“No, absolutely not!” DI Williamson said. “Is there any evidence of criminal acts?”
“No, sir, but...”
“Any foul play at all?”
“No, sir, but...”
“Has the wife an alibi for the time of the man’s disappearance?”
“Yes, sir, but she could have employed a contract killer.”
“Have you been talking to Hugh again?” the DI asked.
“Um, yes sir, why?”
“That young man watches far too much CSI and NCIS if you ask me. Have we any evidence of a third party, such as phone records, letters or dare I ask, a witness?”
“No sir.”
“What do we have?”
“A note from the man stating his intention was to take his own life.”
“Handwriting verified?”
“Yes sir, but with the wife.”
“Any witnesses?”
“Not of the actual incident. We have one phone call from an elderly female who stated she thought she saw a body in the water, and we found his clothes near the scene of the alleged sighting.”
“So, apart from our computer nerd’s gut feelings, what do we have to suggest this might be anything other than a suicide?”
“There may be mileage in seeing what life insurance policy exists. Just as a possible motive, sir.”
“You also need to establish opportunity and intent. Have you either of those?”
“No sir, not as yet. The insurance may assist to prove intent.”