THIRTY-FIVE

'I've always done my best for my children, Umber. You may find that

assertion ironic in the light of what you know. And you may find it even

more ironic in the light of what you're about to learn. But it's true. I've done

everything in my power to protect them. Everything.

'I'm going to tell you a story. In every important sense, it's the story of my

life. It begins — and I suppose it ends — with money. The making of it. The

multiplying of it. And the spending of it. I don't do much of the last. No

need, really, with Marilyn on hand. And the first isn't strictly my line. But

the second? I'm a past master at that. One of the best. One of the very best.

The keeping, the concealing and the breeding of wealth. That's my

speciality. My vocation, if you like.

'You could call it a gift, this skill of mine. Many have. I have. I don't any

more, though. I understand all too clearly now how big a curse it can be. Not

because of the money itself, but because of the sort of people it's brought me

into contact with. My particular kind of talent attracted a particular kind of

client. The kind I should never have trusted. Because they never trusted me.

It's lack of trust that does for you in the end, every time.

'My career in banking was entirely above board until I met… let's call him

Smith. I suspect you may have met him recently yourself, in Jersey. You

may also have seen his oversized yacht moored in St Helier Harbour. At the

outset of our relationship, I believed Smith was a bona fide businessman.

Likewise the friends he recommended me to. Later, I realized they were all

criminals. I could have stopped acting for them at that point. I should have.

But I didn't. The commission they paid was generous. And there was a thrill,

I don't deny, to working for them. Plus a good many fringe benefits. They

were difficult people to say no to. Though, to be honest, I never put that

seriously to the test. They weren't the sort of criminals you ever read about,

of course — the sort who get caught. They were the big fish.

'I referred to Smith's network as the consortium, though needless to say they

never called themselves anything of the kind. They thrived on caution and

anonymity. They were powerful, with interests and associates around the

world. But they were also invisible. And they wanted to stay that way. They

had money to invest. Lots of it. More than they could handle. Which is

where I came in. I made their money work for them — discreetly.

'I also laundered it, of course. The profits they made through me left no trail

that could be followed to their doors. That was easier to do then than it is

now. But I don't have to involve myself much in that kind of activity any

more. After a certain point, which we passed long ago, the process becomes

self-replicating. The system takes over. And it's a good system. Foolproof. I

should know. I designed it.

'Let's be under no illusions. The crimes these people made their lavish

livings out of were as vile as you can imagine. They wore smart suits. They

spoke softly. But that was merely the side of them they chose to show me.

The other side… I didn't want to see.

'I persuaded myself I deserved the considerable rewards that working for the

consortium brought me. I acquired responsibility for managing the greater

part of their finances. I set up my own business and became wealthy in my

own right. I maintained a notional presence in conventional banking, but it

was only cover for my activities on behalf of the consortium. I was their

banker, exclusively, piloting the proceeds of their crime through legitimate

and lucrative investments around the world via respectable institutions and

untraceable accounts. It was a great time. I loved my work.

'I don't any more. I haven't for many years. I still act for them, of course. I

don't actually have any choice in the matter. It's not the sort of job you can

resign from. But I would if could. Like a shot.

'What it boils down to is this. They decided they couldn't continue to rely on

my discretion. I knew too many of their secrets. I was their one potential

weakness — an unacceptable risk, but also indispensable. They needed a

way to bind me to them, to guarantee my loyalty absolutely. And they found

such a way: the theft of my youngest child. That was their plan. Brutal,

simple, effective. Such is the nature of men like Smith.

'Their calculation was that to ensure the safety of my other two children and

in return for evidence of Tamsin's continued wellbeing, I would serve them

unquestioningly. And so I did. Ironically, Miranda's death, which formed no

part of their plan, rendered it even more effective. I only had Jeremy left

then to fear for. And my fear was all the greater as a result.

'Carrying that secret dread around with me destroyed my marriage. But what

could I do? Tamsin's life would have been forfeit — as well as Jeremy's —

if I'd told anyone the truth. I had no choice but to do their bidding. Tamsin

was lost to me. But she wasn't dead. She could lead a happy and fulfilled life

under another name provided I never tried to find her and let the world

believe what Jane believed: that both our daughters were dead.

'The flaw in any plan, of course, is the unpredictability of events. Griffin saw

what happened and followed the van. He had to be disposed of. And he was.

But then someone else had to be found to account for the car you saw

driving past the pub. And Miranda's death raised the stakes. The planned

abduction became a callous murder. Worse, it was an unsolved murder,

which meant it didn't fade from the public mind. So then I was required to

hire Wisby to give the impression I was doing everything in my power to

crack the case. And eventually it was decided someone had to be found to

admit he'd killed both girls. Step forward Brian Radd. As a sex offender, he

needed the kind of protection in prison only someone like Smith could

arrange for him. In return for that, he was willing to confess to anything.

And he got his protection, didn't he? Until the day he died.

'Then there was Tamsin herself — Cherie, Chantelle — growing to

rebellious adulthood. And Sally, driven by her certainty that Radd's

confession was false, looking, always looking, for the girl she believed was

still alive. And then finding her, by chance, in the pages of a magazine.

'So they killed Sally, dressing it up to look like suicide. The man you know

as Walsh was good at that kind of thing. He wasn't so good at hide-and-seek,

though. Cherie gave him the slip, became Chantelle and, eventually, last

year, contacted Jeremy.

'Well, you know about that. So do I now. Flushing out Marilyn. Sending the

letters. Stirring up all the secrets. And what you don't know you can guess.

Someone must have tipped the consortium off about Sharp's intention to

question Radd. Taking him out was an overdue precaution on their part. But

they had to tread carefully. They probably considered killing you, Sharp and

Wisby. But that would have risked splitting the official version of events

wide open. So, they played it softly. Softly by their standards, anyway.

'It didn't work, did it? In the end, there were too many hatches to batten

down. Jeremy's death has made them doubt my reliability. I just don't have

enough to lose any more. But I'm untouchable. I've wrapped up their

investments so tightly they know they can't unravel them without me. If I

went without putting matters in order, most of their money would go with

me. They had me where they wanted me. Now they're not so sure. I was a

problem solved. Now I'm a problem all over again.

'I'm glad to be paying them back in some small measure for the hell they've

forced me to live through these past twenty-three years. I didn't deserve to be

treated as they've treated me. Recently, I've discovered that it was even

worse than I thought. I never doubted Marilyn was a gold-digger. I was

happy to overlook mat for the fun she brought back into my life. But now I

realize she was one of them all along, steered into my path after Jane and I

split up to give them early warning of any backsliding on my part.

'How can I be sure of that, Umber? Her possession of the Junius letters

proves it. That's how. She was there when they grabbed Griffin. They'd have

wanted a woman on hand to look after Tamsin. That must have been

Marilyn's role. She took the books from Griffin's car and hid them. Why? As

ammunition to use against the consortium if the need ever arose. That would

be my guess. When Jeremy started pressurizing her, she panicked and tried

to get rid of them. But she kept the fly-leaves. That was a big mistake. She

should have destroyed them. She really should.

'I found them, you see. I don't think she realizes yet they're not where she hid

them, but she soon will. I spoke to Tamsin on the telephone earlier today.

Chantelle, I should say. But she'll always be Tamsin to me. She sounded

desperate. Well, she must have been, mustn't she, to phone me of all people?

We agreed to meet tomorrow morning. She told me the truth about the

letters. And I agreed to tell her the truth about her life.

'I've had Sharp on to me as well. He hasn't worked everything out yet, but

he's getting close. Enforced idleness in La Moye has given him time to think

a lot through. He believes he might be in a position to squeeze the truth out

of me, or at least some of it. He might be right. I fixed his release on bail,

just to show Smith and his friends they couldn't always have things their

own way. I didn't tell Sharp that, of course. Nor did I disabuse him of the

notion he seems to have got into his head that you've been nobbled.

'I'm supposed to be meeting Sharp tomorrow as well as Tamsin. It promises

to be a busy day. The burial of a son. The resurrection of a daughter. And

then… the sky falls in.

'That's what it would mean, Umber. Be in no doubt. If Tamsin returns to life,

twenty-three years' worth of lies collapses around her and the truth emerges.

Then Smith would need a firebreak between the consortium and me. To

create it, he'd have to kill me. And Tamsin too.

'Plus you, of course. I mention that in case you need an incentive to do what

I'm going to ask you to do. It truly is a matter of life and death.

'I have the fly-leaves with me. Match them to the books Tamsin has and

you've got evidence linking Marilyn with Griffin's murder. If anyone's been

buried in this forest for twenty-three years, it's him. I want you to meet

Tamsin tomorrow morning and tell her what's happened. I want you to

persuade her to turn her back on all this. I want you to take her away. I have

a letter for you to deliver to a man called Ives. He has an office in Zurich.

Ives has access to funds held on my behalf and can arrange new identities

for both of you. With his help, you can disappear. Go wherever you want, as

long as it's far from here. It's an escape route I devised for my own use a

long time ago. But now I realize escape is simply not possible for me. The

consortium would come after me. They'd never stop looking, because they

couldn't afford to. In the end, they'd hunt me down.

'Different considerations apply to you and Tamsin. They'll decide, however

reluctantly, to let you go, because in the wake of all this they'll need to lie

low. They'll have their money, after all. I've seen to that. Smith must already

be worried that they've shown their hand once too often. Sharp's continued

probing will force him to be careful. And the suspicion that I've passed the

missing fly-leaves on to you will prompt Marilyn to urge caution. You'll be

in the clear. My guess is that they'll arrange for the case against Sharp to be

dropped. Maybe the case against Wisby as well, though that will be more

difficult to pull off. They'll want everything dropped.

'This is the deal, Umber. Tamsin says she'll be at Pewsey railway station

when the seven twenty-four for London leaves tomorrow morning. Does she

mean she'll be on the train when it pulls in or waiting on the platform? I'm

not sure. There'll be quite a few commuters at the station. Maybe she wants

witnesses to our reunion. Maybe she doesn't trust me. I could hardly blame

her if she didn't. I used to catch the first train up to London from Pewsey

every weekday, you know. When we were one big happy uncomplicated

family, in those halcyon days I can hardly remember now, before the

twenty-seventh of July, 1981. She's hardly likely to know that, of course.

But I think of it a lot.

'I've booked the pair of you on a noon flight from Heathrow to Zurich. Be

sure you're on it. And be sure Tamsin understands why you have to be. If I

met her tomorrow, I wouldn't have the strength of mind to go through with

this. That's why I mustn't meet her. Because this is her only hope. And she's

the only child I have left.

'Take this envelope. The tickets to Zurich are inside. It also contains the

letter to Ives and the Junius fly-leaves. You'll find the inscriptions on them

very interesting. It's small wonder Griffin wanted to show them to you. I

imagine you might have made quite a splash in the historical world with

such information twenty-three years ago. Not now, though. It'll have to be

your secret.

'This is the only way out, Umber. The only certain way. I have a gun under

my seat. When you've gone, I'll put it to my head and pull the trigger.

Suicide, the night before my son's funeral, in the forest where Radd's thought

to have buried Tamsin's body. I've got a note in my pocket to leave on the

dashboard. It'll make the coroner's job very easy, very straightforward.

"Took his own life while the balance of his mind", et cetera, et cetera. You

follow? Smith and his friends won't have to worry about me any more. And

that means they won't have to worry about Tamsin. Or you. Provided you're

never heard of again.

'I'm giving you a fresh start. Tamsin too. For her sake, naturally, not yours.

But take advantage of it, there's a good fellow. I don't know what she's

planning tomorrow. A graveside confrontation with her mother, perhaps? It

mustn't happen. Talk her out of it. Talk her onto that plane. She trusts you.

She'll go with you when you tell her why she has to.

'What does the future hold? For me, nothing. For you and Tamsin, who

knows? She's young enough to be your daughter. And she is a kind of

orphan. Take her in out of the storm, Umber. Do that for me. And for

yourself. End this. Tomorrow.

'It's time you left. I've said enough. There's no need for you to say anything.

Just take the envelope and go. It's the only assent I need from you. Wait

along the track until you hear the shot. You won't have to wait long. I can

promise you that.'