One terrible November evening in 2004 Helen came home from work in such a happy mood. She was looking forward to John taking her into Bath to watch the rugby. She wasn’t overly keen on the game but he was an avid fan. “The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll be back” I told her. I never saw her alive again.
When he hadn’t returned her home by midnight, I was surprised but I still didn’t think anything was wrong. John would talk to anyone, particularly about rugby, for hours. Then suddenly the police were at the door. Elizabeth had retired to bed early so I was alone when they told me the devastating news that Helen and John were both dead.
My wife had heard the door bell however and was just at the foot of the stairs as the police were telling me what had happened; I remember Elizabeth collapsing on the hall floor; nothing was ever the same again.
Finding out exactly what happened was devastating. Helen and John had been walking along the pavement towards a pub John and several of his friends used on match nights, when they were hit from behind by a VW Golf travelling at about sixty miles an hour in a thirty zone.
The driver was a foreign chap, an Adam Bosko; he was three times over the drink drive limit in a stolen car without a license or insurance. He’d been in trouble with the authorities in his home country of Poland since he was fifteen. He had been in a UK court seven times before in the few years he had been here; he had been charged with dozens of other offences on those occasions. He had overstayed his work visa by eleven months and should never have been in the country.
I felt sure his background would mean he’d get a long sentence. I was appalled when he got just seven years. For taking the lives of two people, let alone the other charges of theft and drink driving — it was a shattering blow. We were still reeling from the death of our beautiful daughter and by the time of the sentencing, Elizabeth was being treated for depression. As I said, nothing was the same again. I lost both of them that night.
This Bosko’s wife and family back in Poland were all set to appeal to the European Court of Human Rights. They argued that as he was due to be deported back to Poland anyway he should be sent back to serve his sentence so they could visit him in prison more easily. The Home Office caved in and I learnt subsequently he was released after serving only four years. That didn’t feel like justice to me. I couldn’t get my head around it at the time, and I still can’t. Adam Bosko got a few years in prison but Elizabeth and I have had to serve a life sentence.
Perhaps you can understand now Phoenix, what motivates me? My wife’s condition has never improved. Living here at Larcombe, with all the memories of her only child, became intolerable. I got rid of the horses and the stables stood empty for a while but this was of no use. Her black moods led me to imagine it was always night time here in my beloved house. I longed for the days when my Helen would breeze into the drawing room with a piece of toast, eagerly passing on a shred of news concerning whatever project she was working on; I couldn’t forget how she had ridden across the grounds on one of her horses, waving to me as I sat on the patio reading the newspaper of a morning. She had been just like Hemera scattering the dark clouds and bringing blessed sunlight into my life.
I arranged for Elizabeth to go into a nursing home; at least she’s well cared for there and I visit her frequently; although she hardly knows me at all dear boy. While I was here at the Manor alone for a time I formulated my plans for Olympus. In due course I wrote to The Times and my quest for a return of true justice to our courts began in earnest.”
Colin looked down at Helen’s face again in the photograph; he stood up and collected the picture of William and Elizabeth that Erebus was still holding. The old man was somewhere far away; perhaps on the high seas with one of his destroyers; perhaps with Elizabeth and Helen in happier times. Colin understood his motivation totally now.
Anyone who has lost a wife and daughter in such a cruel fashion would want to lash out against the people who had taken them from them; when Sharron had been killed it was the final straw for Colin. He had lashed out against the thugs who strutted around his town, arrogantly believing they were untouchable; above the law. He had shown them they were wrong!
He had waited patiently for her killer to be released from prison. He was even glad in some strange way that Neil Cartwright had been released after only a decade; as Erebus had remarked; no sentence in numbers of years for Adam Bosko would ever be enough to pay for taking two lives with such callous disregard for the law and human life.
Colin returned the two photographs to the drawer in the side table and walked over to where Erebus was still seated. The old man looked up at him and Colin sensed for a second that tears were very near, but Erebus collected himself and stood up, back ramrod straight as ever and took his place on the bridge; in this case it was in front of the period fireplace. He invited Colin to sit down again and continued:-
“Right then, my story is now completed Phoenix. We’ve got a few minutes before the others join us in the dining room for dinner; do you have any questions?”
CHAPTER 6
Colin paused for a second; he was on the verge of asking about the considerable sums of money he had in various bank accounts in Switzerland and the Caymans; he wanted to know what was going to happen to that now he was ‘missing presumed dead’. He decided to start on another tack however; he didn’t want to appear greedy!
It was never about the money anyway, it just helped get the job done and one thing he needed was his own style of clothes. He felt like a tailor’s dummy in all this smart casual stuff that Erebus had provided him with. He longed to get into the nondescript type of gear that had served him so well in the past; clothes that didn’t make him stand out in a crowd. Clothes that helped him remain invisible.
“What about the operatives you have in the field already?” he asked “You can’t merely have been waiting for an opportunity to pick me up in order to get some direct actions underway.”
Erebus nodded sagely.
“Naturally dear boy, you are far from being our first operative. As you can imagine, the men we have selected thus far were ex forces personnel; we found a whole raft of potential killers and intelligence experts who were disillusioned with life after leaving their particular branch of the services. Many of us find it difficult to adjust to the humdrum nature of civilian life, particularly when those careers were curtailed through injudicious cuts and the like.
They were brought here like you, mostly at night, in secret and their training was reviewed and their skills were upgraded and modified where appropriate. They have since moved out into their specified theatre of operation, ready to be called into action at a moment’s notice. They are akin to the ‘sleeper’ that was prevalent during the ‘Cold War’. You may be familiar with the concept from watching films or TV programmes.
They have acquired jobs and identities; to all intents and purposes they have blended into everyday life as normal citizens. Most have been able to evade the counter-espionage agencies in their target country; sadly, we have lost a few people over the last couple of years when their cover was blown, or in the execution of a direct action itself
As they are in gainful employment we do not pay them directly; this avoids any possibility of payments transferred to them from here at Larcombe Manor being traced. Exactly like you, these agents have code names and very infrequently they return here for debriefing or additional training. We can provide them with extra funds in their local currency if they are about to ramp up the scale of their activities too.”