Authors: Rhys Bowen
Evan's Gate (26 page)
“I hope so. I think she’s being held at this Ferndale Cottage, so we need to be careful. I’ll give you my mobile number so that your blokes can contact me. Tell them I’m watching the place now.”
“Ooh, how exciting,” she said, most un professionally. “Right. I’ll get them onto it straightaway.”
Feeling more confident now, Evan pocketed his phone and was about to head for the road when he heard a sound behind him.
Instinctively he turned toward it. A door had opened and somebody had come out. She was standing on the doorstep, looking directly at him. It took him a second or two to recognize her in the gathering twilight. It was Shirley Sholokhov.
Instinctively he turned toward it. A door had opened and somebody had come out. She was standing on the doorstep, looking directly at him. It took him a second or two to recognize her in the gathering twilight. It was Shirley Sholokhov.
Before he could hide in the bushes that flanked the path, she spotted him and the look of surprise on her face matched his own.“Bloody hell,” she muttered. “What you are doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Evan said, coming steadily up the path toward her. “But I think I know the answer to that one. I’ve been on a wild-goose chase looking for you in Leeds, where your boyfriend assured me you’d be back any moment.”
“This is my auntie’s house,” she said. “I decided to stay with her for a few days. I felt trapped in Leeds. I needed to be with family at a time like this. Is there anything wrong with that?”
“Nothing at all. I think family members should stick together. I just don’t go along with lies and deceit.”
She had her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do.” He was eye to eye with her now. “It’s funny, but I felt that something was wrong all the time. There never was a kidnapping, was there? You brought Ashley here, out of the way, and then pretended that your husband had kidnapped her.” He shook his head. “I could never really believe that a child had been
playing on that beach. No child goes to a beach without digging in the sand. It’s part of their nature.”
playing on that beach. No child goes to a beach without digging in the sand. It’s part of their nature.”
She was still looking at him defiantly. “All right. What if I did? I only wanted to make sure we were free of him forever. He had some high-powered lawyer paid for by his Russian friends—they were trying to make out I was a bad mother, and they were going to give him custody of Ashley. I couldn’t give her up—I just couldn’t.” She stared at him for a moment. “So how did you find us?”
“We’ve been running a hot line. Some hikers spotted a little blonde girl playing outside the cottage this morning and called us. I just happened to be trying to visit you in Leeds. If you’d come to us and told us you were going home, I’d never have come looking for you.”
“Bloody stupid of me, wasn’t it? But I just didn’t want you blokes questioning me again. I did tell your local Mr. Plod.”
“Who conveniently forgot to mention it to us,” Evan said. “But you left some other clues too. You had her prescription filled in Skipton—that’s the nearest big town, isn’t it? And that was also something that never made sense to me. If my child had had a major operation like Ashley, I’d have been frantic about her medications. You never even mentioned it to us the first time.”
“Shit,” she muttered. “So what will happen now? It’s not a crime, hiding my own child, is it?”
“Falsely reporting a crime and mobilizing all those policemen is not going to be taken too kindly. It could also go against you when you have your custody hearing.”
“Have you found Johnny yet?” she asked.
“No. He may have gone into hiding when he heard we were looking for him. He may have feared being deported.”
“That’s rubbish. I bet he’s gone home to Russia like I told you. He did nothing but talk about it and how much he missed it.”
“Not according to his friends,” Evan said. “They say he wanted to stay in England. Look, are you going to invite me in? I’d like
to meet Ashley for myself, since we’ve all been so worried about her.”
to meet Ashley for myself, since we’ve all been so worried about her.”
“All right. I suppose so,” she said grudgingly and passed through the door ahead of him. Evan followed her into a lowceilinged, dark kitchen. The lights had not yet been turned on, and the house was in strange, flickering shadow. Evan saw the reason for this, as he looked through the doorway to a living room beyond. A television set was showing cartoons and in front of it a blonde-haired girl was sitting. At that moment a stout, older woman came through into the kitchen and gasped when she saw Evan.
“Who’s he?” she demanded.
“North Wales Police. He’s found us. The game’s up. Still it was worth a try, wasn’t it?”
The little girl spun around too at the sound of voices. She jumped to her feet and rushed to her mother. “Have they come to take me away?” she wailed.
“Hush. No, love. You’re quite safe.” Her mother stroked her hair as the child clung to her leg.
Now that Evan had a chance to look at her, he saw that she didn’t bear that strong a resemblance to Sarah, apart from the hair. She had a rounder, flatter, more Eastern European face, like her father.
“Don’t worry, Ashley,” Evan said, smiling down at her. “Nothing bad’s going to happen to you, I promise.” Even as he said it, he wondered if this was a lie. Shirley would almost certainly be charged with parental abduction and custody could well be handed to the father, as soon as they located him. Which of them would be better for her? he wondered. It was hard to tell.
“I suppose you’d like a cup of tea?” the old woman asked in a broad Yorkshire accent. She pronounced it coopatee.
“Thanks. I would. I’ve been up a mountain and down looking for this place.” Evan sat at the bench at the kitchen table, glad that the whole thing was going to be civilized. D.I. Watkins would have no complaints about the way he’d handled it until the local
police got there. A cup was put in front of him. He hadn’t even taken his first sip when he heard the sound of an engine straining as it climbed the track toward the cottage. So the local police had got here quickly after all. Shirley pulled back the curtain, then ran to open the front door.
police got there. A cup was put in front of him. He hadn’t even taken his first sip when he heard the sound of an engine straining as it climbed the track toward the cottage. So the local police had got here quickly after all. Shirley pulled back the curtain, then ran to open the front door.
“It’s all right, Mrs. Sholokhov, don’t be alarmed,” Evan started to say, then heard Shirley shouting, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I came to warn you,” the voice shouted back. “There’s some damned copper nosing around the house today. He said he wasn’t leaving until he’d seen you. I think we may have a problem if you don’t—”
Evan came to stand beside her at the door. “If she doesn’t what, Mr. Bingham?” he asked.
Joe Bingham reacted quickly. “Shit. How did he get here?”
“You and your big mouth, I expect, Joe.”
“I swear I didn’t tell him nothing, Shirley.” He came up to them, not taking his eyes for a second off Evan. “Still, no matter. He’s all on his own, is he? I didn’t pass a car as I came up here. They send out one lousy constable on foot? That was rather stupid, wasn’t it? We’ll just get rid of him like we did the other one.”
And with a mighty shove, he pushed Evan back into the house. Evan was unprepared for it and fell against the kitchen table, knocking over crockery and making the little girl cry out in alarm.
“Get her out of here,” Joe Bingham instructed to the aunt.
Evan had regained his balance. “Don’t be so bloody stupid,” he said, fighting to keep his voice calm and reasonable. “You’re in minor trouble at the moment. You touch a police officer and you’ll be away for life.”
“He’s right, Joe,” Shirley began, but Bingham cut her off.
“Who’s to ever know, eh? We dump him down a pothole, and they’ll never find him. I’ll get his car and drive it back to Wales and leave it somewhere. They’ll never know he’s been here.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Joe,” Evan said, still amazed that he could sound so relaxed when his heart was racing a mile a minute,
“but I called in my location just a few minutes ago. We’ve got squad cars on their way right now.” A thought suddenly struck him, with such remarkable clarity that it was almost like having a vision. “And you’re wrong about something else, too. They found a body in a pothole today. I’d like to bet it turns out to be Johnny Sholokhov.”
“but I called in my location just a few minutes ago. We’ve got squad cars on their way right now.” A thought suddenly struck him, with such remarkable clarity that it was almost like having a vision. “And you’re wrong about something else, too. They found a body in a pothole today. I’d like to bet it turns out to be Johnny Sholokhov.”
He was satisfied to see the look of alarm that passed between them.
“It wasn’t me. I didn’t want to do it,” Shirley said quickly. “It was his idea.”
“Shut your mouth, woman. Of course you wanted to do it. You begged me to get rid of him. Come on. Let’s take our chances again. We get rid of this bloke, and we can be out of here before the rest of them turn up.”
“You won’t find me so easy to get rid of,” Evan said.
“Won’t find you easy?” Joe Bingham laughed, opened a kitchen drawer, and produced a long carving knife. “I’ll slice you to ribbons, mate.”
“And how will you clean up the blood before the police arrive? You’re cooked, Bingham. Your fingerprints are all over the room—yours and Shirley’s and Ashley’s, too. The smartest thing you can do now is come quietly.” As he spoke, he was backing, inch by inch, toward the front door. To his great relief he heard the sound of an approaching car engine. “Looks like my backup just arrived,” he said. “Now why don’t you put down the knife before someone gets hurt.”
Joe Bingham glanced at the door, then reached out and made a grab for Ashley, who was cowering in the doorway between the kitchen and living room.
“We’ve got the kid,” he said, holding her in front of him with one big arm while the other hand still wielded the knife. “They won’t dare touch us. We can get away.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Shirley Sholokhov screamed. “Take your hands off my child. You’re hurting her.”
Instead, Bingham eased his way around the table, with Ashley
still in front of him and the knife still ready. “I’m not staying here to be caught. And I’m not going to jail, neither. You made me do it.”
still in front of him and the knife still ready. “I’m not staying here to be caught. And I’m not going to jail, neither. You made me do it.”
“Let go of her, you bastard!” Shirley shrieked. She rushed at him. The moment his eyes turned away from Evan, Evan made a grab for the hand with the knife and brought it smashing down on the table with all his force. Bingham yelled out in pain. The knife clattered to the floor as the North Yorks Police burst into the room.
“So the local police were able to pick up Ashley and her mother with no trouble, then?” Detective Inspector Watkins asked Evan at their eight o’clock briefing the next morning. He had returned home well after midnight and had been so wound up that he had not been able to sleep. He had had a couple of close calls before in his life, but he suspected that this was the closest. If the local boys hadn’t shown up in time, would Joe Bingham have risked the blood in the room? Would he have been able to fight his way out? And what if Joe had had a gun instead of a knife? Evan would be lying now down some deep pothole, maybe not properly dead, but dying in darkness.
It seemed from the autopsy that Johnny Sholokhov had not been dead when he was dropped down an unnamed pothole above the cottage. He had slowly bled to death and died of thirst in the next couple of days. The thought brought Evan out in a cold sweat, and he realized he was suffering from delayed shock. Now he was feeling hollow eyed and frazzled.
“Shirley’s boyfriend was a bit of a nuisance, but otherwise no problem,” Evan said.
“Well done, boyo,” D.I. Watkins said. “Of course, it was lucky that Shirley Sholokhov was stupid enough to come out and let you see her.”
Evan was glad that he hadn’t phrased that the other way around. If Joe Bingham had got there first. If they’d spotted him before he saw them—then he could well have been taken off guard
and now be lying, like poor Johnny Sholokhov, at the bottom of some pothole.
and now be lying, like poor Johnny Sholokhov, at the bottom of some pothole.
“You look terrible,” Watkins said. “Are you coming down with something?”
“I didn’t get any sleep. It took awhile to write reports and identify the body in the morgue as Sholokhov. By the time I got home, it was almost time to wake up again.”
Watkins got up. “Come on, then. Let’s go down to the cafeteria and get something in your stomach.” He marched Evan down the hall and soon he was sitting with a plate of egg and chips and a cup of tea in front of him.
“So now the poor kid’s wound up with neither parent,” Watkins said, stirring his own cup of tea as Evan tucked into the egg and chips. “She’ll be placed in custody, I suppose.”
“They may let her live with the great aunt who was looking after her in the cottage,” Evan said. “She seemed a nice enough old girl. Offered me a cup of tea.”
Watkins laughed. “She was probably planning to poison you.”
Evan didn’t laugh and wondered if that had been true. “I wish I’d followed my hunch all along,” he said. “I kept feeling that something was wrong when we were on that beach. No sand toys, no sign that a child had been playing there at all. And what mother wouldn’t be frantic if her child had had major surgery and might not get her proper medicine?”
Watkins nodded. “No wonder we thought she was a cool customer. Well, she was, wasn’t she? Calmly lying, deceiving half of Britain—and dumping her old man down a pothole. Well, I’m glad we know the outcome. I always hate it in those cases when we never know. Especially when kids are involved.”
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