âI'm not an anything. I'm a me.'
Deacon recognised the unconscious arrogance in that. âI have a friend who's an atheist,' he said. âThe most passionate atheist you can imagine. He goes at it with what can only be described as religious zeal, and I swear to God if the cause ever needs martyrs again he'll be first in the queue. Which makes him a dangerous man. You believe that strongly in anything and you have the potential to be a dangerous man. What is it you believe in, Dev?'
âNothing,' said Dev Stretton firmly.
But Deacon shook his head. âNo one wakes up one morning and thinks he'll crucify himself because he's got nothing better to do that day. We're all here because you believe there's something more important than your future. If that isn't faith, I don't know what is.'
âIt wasn't like that,' insisted Stretton. He sounded desperate for Deacon to believe him. âI told you, I killed Loomis. After that, I wasn't thinking straight. I just needed a way out.'
Deacon was unconvinced. âIf you cared so much about the death of a petty gangster that you wanted to end it all, you wouldn't have waited nine days. And we wouldn't be sitting here chatting about it when you have the means to do it at your fingertips. No, that's not what this is about.'
âYes, it is,' said Stretton, his tone growing increasingly urgent. âI killed Loomis. He hurt my mother. In the street. I let a week go by so no one would suspect, then I went and stuck a knife in him.'
âThen you thought, what a terrible thing to do! And after another nine days you decided to blow yourself up.'
âYes. Exactly.'
âGo on, then.' Jack Deacon had never done a course in siege negotiation, and it showed.
There was a stunned pause. Then: âI don't want to kill you.'
Deacon clambered stiffly to his feet. âSuppose I move off a bit? Let's get it finished, shall we? You tell me you're so ashamed of killing Joe Loomis you want to die. Well, here you are, sitting on two tonnes of blasting explosives. What's stopping you?'
Stretton's voice was small. âI changed my mind.'
âYeah, right,' snorted Deacon derisively. âDev, you never wanted to die. I think Daniel's right and you're a diversion. The question is, a diversion from what? What is it you don't want me seeing or thinking about? What is it that's worth risking your life to stop me investigating â but only for the next half-hour? And the only thing any of us can think of is, someone needs that half-hour to plant a real bomb. If we're wrong, if there's something else going on, something that doesn't threaten hundreds of lives, you need to tell me. You need to tell me now.'
âI can't,' whined Stretton. âNot yet. Can't you just wait half an hour?' His voice was a plea.
âTill these co-conspirators you say don't exist have had time to do their job?' Then Deacon's voice softened. âOr ⦠until whoever it is you're trying to protect is safe?' He found himself glancing at the sky again. But the helicopter had gone.
âThere are no bombs! At least,' stumbled Stretton, âas far as I know there are no bombs. Maybe you know better. You put this town on a terror alert because you thought an attack was imminent, and maybe you were right. But I don't know anything about it. All I know is, it gave me an idea. You're right about me. There is something I believe in more than the future. It's my family. Joe Loomis hurt my family. I had to deal with that.' He gave a despairing little laugh. âYou know how excitable we Asians are. Look at our women the wrong way and you're taking your head home in a sack!'
Deacon gave a knowing little grin. âAh yes, but that's
them, isn't it, and you're you. I guess that's the advantage of being half one thing and half another: you don't come ready-packaged. You can decide for yourself who and what you are. You can make your own choices â about what's important, and what you do about it. And you're as much your mother's son as your father's.
âYes, I think you'd take risks to take care of your mother. I think you might have gone to The Rose the day Joe Loomis slapped her, and punched his lights out even if it meant having his heavies on your back as you did it. I
don't
think you thought about it for over a week and then ambushed him in a dark car park â
and
relied on him bringing the knife! And then waited
another
week before making a public exhibition of your remorse.'
âThat's exactly what happened,' insisted Stretton. Then, a shade defensively: âNo one's at their best and brightest in this kind of situation.'
Deacon chuckled. âNo, but people don't behave that much out of character either. You didn't kill Loomis. You know how I know? Because if you had you'd have done one of two things. Either you'd have come straight round to Battle Alley and told me what happened, or you'd have kept your cool and waited to see if I worked it out.
âYou're a pretty tough character, Dev. Not like Joe â you don't feel the need to pick your teeth with a stiletto to prove it. You're quiet, polite, conscientious â but you're strong. Going to Pakistan after the earthquake wasn't the easy option â you did it because those people needed your time more than you did. I know, and you know, you could do prison if you had to.'
Deacon paused while Stretton worked out that it was a compliment. âYou could also handle being a wanted man. If you'd decided Joe got no more than his just deserts â and who among us would argue? â you'd have gone to work the next morning as if nothing had happened, and carried on as if what happened was nothing to do with you unless I could prove differently. You were never going to panic and draw attention to yourself.
âSo like I say, that isn't what this is about. You're not a suicide bomber, and I don't think you're a murderer. I think you
are
here to be a martyr â but not to any cause, least of all a religious one. You told me what mattered to you â your family. You're covering for your mother, aren't you? Faith killed Joe Loomis. And she's doing a runner right now, while every policeman on the south coast is watching this blockhouse.'
Â
If Brodie had still been on the motorcycle, that was the moment at which she'd have fallen off. She felt the jolt travel from the top of her head to the soles of her booted feet, and for some minutes afterwards her brain felt like a crime scene, where intruders had thrown the contents into a pile in the middle of the floor.
So Pervez Tarar was â¦
Then Joe Loomis wasn't â¦
Then what the hell were they all doing here?
âSomebody's going to have to help me out,' she stumbled. âMr Tarar â I didn't misunderstand, did I? You're Dev Stretton's father.'
âIndeed I am,' said Tarar warmly. âAnd I didn't
misunderstand either, did I? Dev is in danger. Right now.
âYes, he is,' nodded Brodie. âReal and immediate danger. Not just the explosives, which I imagine he knows how to handle, but the Counter Terrorism arm of the police which I don't suppose he does. They think he's part of an al-Qaeda plot. And he isn't, is he? All he's been plotting is how to get his mother beyond the reach of Dimmock CID, who â when they've a bit less on their plates â will remember they're in the middle of a murder investigation.'
âWhat?' said Tarar; and, âMe?' said Faith.
Brodie ran a distracted hand through her thick hair. âOh shit. Is that not right either?'
Faith shook her head. âI'm not going anywhere. When I'm finished here I'm going to the construction site. I'll explain and the anti-terrorist guys can go home. Dev will give himself up and we'll sort it all out. More or less,' she added tiredly. âThere'll be hell to pay, of course. But rather that than â¦' She let the sentence die away, as if everyone knew what she meant. And they didn't. Brodie didn't. Actually, Graham didn't either, but he wasn't even trying any more. He was admiring the Lycoming engine on the helicopter.
âI'm sorry.' Tarar was looking at Faith with compassion. âThis stops here. I can't do what I promised. Not now. For myself I would take the risk. I told you that, and I meant it. But you haven't been honest with me. You didn't tell me that helping you would mean leaving Dev to face the consequences.'
âIt's what he wants.' Faith's eyes were imploring. âThis
isn't something I told him to do. It was Dev's idea. His idea to ask you for help â and when the no-fly zone was imposed, his idea how to get it lifted. You have to go through with it, Pervez. Not for me, not for old times' sake â for Dev. If you don't, he'll still pay the price, he just won't get what he wants in return.'
âI am his father,' said Pervez Tarar quietly; and it was clear to Brodie that the plain words meant something very special to him. âIt's not my job to do what he wants. It's my job to do what is best for him.'
And this, Brodie supposed, was pretty much how Daniel had got involved with the Stretton family: watching Faith, intense and committed, trying to move by sheer willpower a man who had no intentions of giving her what she wanted.
She and Tarar had been lovers a quarter of a century ago. And something of that time had stayed with them: an affection, a regard. If she'd needed money she'd have got it. When she needed him to break the law for her, to risk everything he'd worked for to get her out of more trouble than she could handle, he was willing to do that too. But Dev was his son, and fond as he was of the mother he wasn't going to sacrifice his child to save her.
âWell, bully for you,' cried Faith, red hair flying in her passion. âI don't have the luxury of always putting my son first. I have two children.'
And it was only then, minutes into the confrontation, that Brodie realised there was someone else in the car. She wasn't hiding: she just wasn't very big, and the dark hair fell around her scared little face like a screen. Evie.
Of course, Brodie thought then, she should have guessed. If Faith was on the run, she wasn't leaving her teenage daughter behind. That was what all the packing had been about. They'd have been gone days ago if it hadn't been for the security alert.
Evie â¦
I have two children.
And this was Dev's idea, something he cared enough about to sacrifice his own future. And Faith cared enough to let him.
I have two children â¦
Moses, hearing the voice of the burning bush, could hardly have been more staggered than Brodie was then as the implications hit her. It had seemed barely credible that Faith would let her son go to jail in order to keep her out. Now Brodie realised that wasn't what was happening at all. Faith Stretton had two children. Dev didn't just have a mother to think about, he had a sister.
Brodie had hardly noticed the girl, except as a figure in the background. She wasn't even sure how old she was. Eighteen, nineteen?
Twenty?
She looked at her now, taking in the long straight brown hair, the pale skin, the expression of a frightened rabbit cornered by a weasel. She didn't share Dev's colouring: no anonymous Kashmiri was needed to account for her. It wasn't Dev who was Joe Loomis's child â it was Evie.
And it wasn't Faith who was on the run. That was why Dev Stretton was ready to do hard time and why Faith was ready to let him. Because, much as it was to ask, they both knew that he could cope with it and Evie couldn't.
Evie Stretton killed Joe Loomis? Drove a knife deep enough into his side that he bled to death? Killed her father, and walked away and left her brother to face the music?
Brodie leant down slowly in the open door of the car, and tried to give her a reassuring smile. It wasn't easy because she felt like someone trying to outrun a landslide, with things she'd thought solid suddenly tumbling round her. She fought to keep her voice level. âEvie â what happened?'
Now Faith was there too, leaning past her into the car as if she could block the question, and the consequences that would inevitably flow from it, with her body. âDon't answer that,' she commanded. âIt's none of her business. It's none of your
business
!' She twisted angrily towards Brodie. âGo away. Let me deal with this!'
âBut you can't deal with it,' snapped Brodie impatiently. âI'm not sure anyone could deal with it now. It's not a snowball any more, it's a bloody great avalanche â it won't stop when you say it can. It'll keep rolling, and it'll bury you and Dev and half of Dimmock, and it won't even notice.'
âThen what do you want me to do?' cried Faith.
âHe's right.' Brodie jerked her head at Tarar. âIt stops here. Tell the truth â the whole truth. And just hope there's still time to salvage the situation.'
âI have to get Evie away first!'
Brodie shook her head. âThe moment that helicopter takes off, none of you can turn back. I know Dev was willing to do this. That doesn't make it OK to let him.' Something occurred to her. She looked at the girl's pale, frightened face and tried to read behind it. âDoes she even know?'
Fear and fury warred hotly in Faith Stretton's cheeks. âShut up! Go
away
!'
She tried to push her, but Brodie was solider than she looked and barely swayed. âShe doesn't, does she? She doesn't know what it's going to cost to get her to safety.'
Evie mightn't have played much part in the conversation till now but she had been trying to follow it. She mumbled,
âDev said he'd keep the police occupied.'
âYes,' said Brodie softly. âAnd I expect that's all he said, isn't it? Because he wouldn't want you to know what keeping them occupied is going to cost him.'
âWhat?' She didn't look twenty. Scared, she looked about twelve. But Brodie detected a streak of her mother's stubbornness. Evie Stretton wasn't stupid. She'd worked out that she'd be better not knowing. But she wanted to know anyway.
âJust about everything,' said Brodie honestly. âHe's certainly going to prison. That's assuming he gets away with his life.'
âMa!' It was almost a scream. Brodie's insides clenched at the distress in it. She wasn't much more than a child, and circumstances had led her to perform one dreadful act that her whole family was going to spend the rest of their lives paying for. And they hadn't told her. Faith and her son had discussed the situation without her, and decided what they had to do. Knowing what it would cost them both, and believing it was worth it.
They were a strong family, a close family. They shouldn't have been in meltdown over the death of a man like Joe Loomis. A man with so much blood on his hands that by the end he hardly noticed the smell.
Brodie turned to Faith, trying to ignore the agony in her eyes. âYou know it's over. Blame me if you want to, hate me if you must, but they had to know. Both of them. It'll be hard getting through what comes next, but you'd have lost them all if you'd done what Dev asked. When they found out that while his father was taking his sister
out of the country Dev was playing a game with the police that involved explosives and sniper rifles, and that if he survived he'd take the rap for what she'd done,
and that you'd known
, neither of them would ever have forgiven you.
Finally she'd got it right. No one was arguing. All of them looked shocked. Brodie knew she'd hurt them all, in ways that would reverberate long after she'd passed from their orbit, and her only consolation was that there might still be time to prevent a worse disaster. She shook herself, making an effort to take control.
âThere'll be time to talk this through later. Between yourselves, to the police, with Dev â all of that. The important thing now is to get word to Jack Deacon at the construction site. The last thing the police were told was that Dev was keeping them occupied while bombers targeted Dimmock. We need to let them know he isn't, he's just looking after his little sister.'
Pervez Tarar stared, thunderstruck. âBut â¦who would
tell
them such a thing?'
Brodie shuffled uncomfortably. âWell â¦actually â¦it was me. I'm sorry, it seemed to make sense at the time. I knew
something
was going on that wasn't what everyone thought was going on. I put it all together and I got it wrong.' She gave Faith a pre-emptive glare. âBut not
that
wrong! If you'd been honest with me I could have helped. Now all we can do is try to make sure Counter Terrorism know it's a stupid, overprotective brother they're dealing with, not a mad mullah. Get on your phone and tell Dev to come out with his hands up, and I'll call Jack.'
But the network was still down. Brodie cast around desperately for a solution. Maybe Graham could get her to the site on his bike. Maybe in the time it took to get there, to find someone who'd let her through the police cordon and to convince Deacon that the crisis was over â that there never was, in fact, a crisis â Dev wouldn't have shown enough of himself for the marksman from Counter Terrorism to draw a bead â¦
âOne moment,' said Pervez Tarar. He opened the door of his helicopter and beckoned to Brodie. âCome with me, please.'
As the rotors began to spin he explained. âWe need to be above the Downs to raise Air Traffic Control. They'll be able to radio a message to the police.'
The aircraft had been ready to depart when Evie arrived. Within seconds it was airborne. Brodie screwed in her seat to see the car and the motorcycle, indeed the whole of the airstrip, falling away below. She'd never been in a helicopter before. It was tiny, noisy, scary and rather exciting.
As soon as he'd cleared the radio blindspot, Tarar raised Air Traffic Control.
Air Traffic Controllers are used to dealing with emergencies. But not this kind of emergency. Brodie had to explain three separate times before the one she was talking to understood what she needed. But he confirmed he could relay a message to the police.
Brodie thought quickly. âThen get word to Detective Superintendent Jack Deacon of Dimmock CID that Dev Stretton isn't a terrorist and if there's a plot to blow up
Dimmock it's nothing to do with him. Tell him no one's in any danger from him. Tell him Dev's mother's on her way, and he'll come out when she gets there. And tell him to please keep the Counter Terrorism guys from thinking one well-placed bullet could secure the monarchy, the Union Jack and the British way of life for generations to come.
When Brodie had delivered her message, Pervez Tarar spoke to ATC again. âPlease be advised we are returning to Menner strip soonest. There is no need to scramble the RAF.'
Brodie gave him a disapproving look. âI'm not sure a joke is appropriate just now.'
His expression was sombre. âMrs Farrell, no joke is intended. A no-fly zone is imposed only when there is considered to be a realistic prospect of attack from the air. Not only would RAF fighters scramble to intercept an unidentified aircraft in a no-fly zone, if they couldn't escort it down they'd shoot it down.'
Brodie considered for a moment. âDid Faith know what she was asking of you?'
The pilot gave a wry little smile. âNo, I don't think she did. But I did. I thought about it and I thought it was worth the risk. I'd have done it, except â¦'
âExcept that by saving her daughter you'd be abandoning your son,' Brodie finished softly.
âYes.' He considered. âDoes that make me a selfish man?'
Brodie shook her head. âJust a good father.'
She needed more facts. But Tarar didn't have them.
Faith had told him only that Evie had to get out of Britain as quickly as possibly and couldn't use public ports or airports. Of course he'd known that something bad had happened, because people who can't run to the police are usually on the run from the police. He hadn't enquired any deeper. Faith Stretton was the mother of his son. He'd once thought she was the love of his life. He'd been happily married for twenty-two years now to someone else, but the fondness, the sense of attachment, had lasted. When she asked for his help he'd said Yes and then he'd said How?
When they got back to the airstrip Brodie thought the car would be gone. She found it hard to guess Faith's next move, impossible to guess how she was feeling. Both her children in danger, and anything that made things better for one made them worse for the other. A situation she could never have anticipated blowing up round them until it involved Counter Terrorism police and RAF fighters. And with everything she'd risked to get Evie to safety, she was still on the wrong side of the English Channel, just miles from the spot where she'd driven a knife to its hilt into Joe Loomis's side.
Brodie ached to know how that had happened. But she doubted she'd get the chance to ask. Whether Faith was now on her way to the construction site to try to help Dev, or driving wildly anywhere there was an open road in the hope of keeping Evie one step ahead of the police, Brodie thought she'd be gone.
But as the helicopter dropped towards the tarmac Faith's big estate car was clear to see. Brodie supposed she was waiting for Tarar to return, hoping to change his mind.
That having done all he could to protect Dev he'd fulfil his promise to Faith. But no one rushed forward as the aircraft landed. Faith remained standing beside the car, Evie sitting inside.
Tarar started to apologise again. Faith interrupted, dull-eyed. âEvie has something to say.'
The girl's eyes were downcast. Her voice was tiny, as if it was coming a long way, but tucked away at its core was a grain of adamant. âI didn't know,' she whispered. âWhat Dev was doing. He said he'd keep the police off my back while I got away, and I didn't even ask how. I knew he'd do it. He's always looked out for me.'
She looked up. âBut if I'd known what he planned I wouldn't have let him do it. I never thought â I never
wanted
it to be him or me. I never
imagined
him getting into this kind of trouble. Maybe I should have done. Dev was always willing to go the extra mile for people. And ⦠he's my brother. I love him, and he loves me.
âBut I never,
never
thought he'd try to take the blame for this himself. My mother knows that. I want you to know it too.' She was looking directly at Dev's father. âAnd I want you to know that I don't blame you for putting Dev first. Not just because he's your son â because he's the innocent party. Because he deserves it, and I don't. I've told Ma I'm not going anywhere. Except to the police, to tell them what happened. I don't want anything else on my conscience.'
Tarar's eyes brimmed and he hardly knew what to say. âMy goodness, what a splendid family you are! And what a tragedy that so much love should lead to so much heartache! Dear child, I know you're not mine. I wish
you were. But whatever you need to deal with this, let me provide it. I have an excellent solicitor, I'll contact him as soon as I can. Don't think you're alone. Your mother, your brother and I are with you and will do everything we can to make things easier.'
Evie managed a damp little smile. âWhat do we do now?'
With everyone else about to dissolve in tears, Brodie did what she did best â she took over. âWe still can't phone anyone. I think we need to split up. Mr Tarar, take Faith and head for the construction site. When you start meeting police road blocks, tell them who you are and have them radio Detective Superintendent Deacon â he'll wave you through, and he won't do anything else until you get there. I'll take Evie back to the cottage and we'll wait for the police to contact us. OK?'
No one objected. But Faith lingered at the driver's door of her car so Brodie couldn't get in. Pervez Tarar put an arm around her shoulders. âCome on. Everything will be all right now.'