The One You Fear (7 page)

Emma should have realised then that there was more to this.

‘I still can’t believe that this person said his name was Stephen Myers.’ Lizzy looked disturbed. ‘I can’t believe it.’ She glanced across at Will.

‘What is it?’ Emma said, noting the look in Will’s eyes.

‘You’d better just tell her,’ Will said.

‘Tell me what?’

Lizzy grabbed the bottle of red and poured herself a generous glass. ‘I need some of this.’ She took a gulp. ‘Now, Em, this is going to sound crazy, absolutely crazy, and I can’t believe I’m actually going to say it. But the person who sent you those flowers, who said they were Stephen Myers, what if it actually is Stephen Myers?’

‘What? You’re not serious, are you?’

‘I know, I know, it’s mad, I told you it would be. But just what if?’

Emma was stunned.
‘I don’t understand.
Stephen Myers is dead. We saw his grave, remember?’

‘I know, I know.’ Lizzy seemed to be struggling with what she was trying to say.

Emma looked at Will again. ‘Something’s happened. Tell me what.’

Will exhaled and looked up at the ceiling, then back towards his sister. ‘That journalist, Adrian Spencer, he said he went to speak with Peter Myers in prison. And Peter Myers told him that Stephen isn’t dead.’

‘Isn’t dead? But you saw him.’

Will looked away.

‘But you did, didn’t you? You saw him.’

‘I didn’t see his face,’ he replied, suddenly looking upset. ‘I couldn’t look at him properly, so I don’t know for certain that it was him.’

Emma shook her head. ‘The police would have made sure they had the right person. Peter Myers is just playing games with us again. He knows how to get at us, even when he’s locked up in jail.’

‘Probably,’ Will admitted.

Emma focussed on her best friend. ‘Lizzy, you don’t think so?’

Lizzy shrugged.

Emma had another idea. ‘Maybe Adrian Spencer is making it up – maybe he’s just trying to get us to talk. Maybe he hasn’t spoken to Peter Myers at all. Maybe he’s trying to provoke a reaction.’

Lizzy closed her eyes. ‘No, that’s not it.’

‘But how can you be so sure?’

‘Because he told me the same thing.’

‘Who?’

‘Peter Myers. When he was holding me captive – he told me that Stephen Myers was alive.’

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ Emma said, shocked that her best friend had kept that from her. But then why should she be surprised? Lizzy had been through the same traumatic experience as Dan, and like him, she hadn’t said much about anything that had happened inside Peter Myers’ house.

‘Because I thought it was rubbish,’ Lizzy responded. ‘And I thought it would just freak you out. I was going to tell you, but then you became so anxious, thinking you were seeing Stephen Myers when we were out shopping, for instance. I thought that telling you that would make things worse. And I thought that’s just what he would have wanted, to scare you – to bring the one you fear back from the dead.’

‘I understand. What else did Peter Myers tell you?’

Lizzy hesitated.

‘Tell her,’ Will said.

Lizzy took another drink of wine and steadied herself. ‘He said that Stephen Myers was coming back for you.’

‘He can’t be alive,’ Emma said, as they sat rather nervously in the lounge after dinner. ‘He can’t be.’

The others remained silent, letting her statement hang in the air.

‘Think back,’ she said to Will, ‘the night Stuart called you over. You might not have looked at Stephen’s face, but Stuart told you it was him, didn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, why would he say it was Stephen Myers if it was really someone else?’

‘I don’t know. He wouldn’t, I guess.’

‘Exactly. There was no reason for him to lie.’

‘But the person in Cornwall…’ Lizzy said.

‘Was someone who just wanted to frighten us,’ Emma replied.

‘Em’s right,’ Will said. ‘Stephen Myers is dead. He has to be.’

‘But you said before…’ Lizzy began.

‘I got carried away,’ Will said. ‘If you think about it, it doesn’t make sense.’

‘Maybe,’ Lizzy replied, ‘but it still leaves someone else out there, pretending to be him.’

‘That’s what really worries me,’ said Dan, who’d been very quiet throughout much of the meal. ‘I’m not worried about Stephen Myers – he’s long gone. I’m worried about the person who is living and breathing – the person who was following us in Cornwall. I’m worried that he’s now back in London.’

They all agreed.

‘So what do we do?’ Lizzy said. ‘Call the police?’

‘We tried that in Cornwall,’ Dan said. ‘They weren’t interested.’

‘What about Gasnier?’

‘Gasnier?’ Knowing how Lizzy felt about Detective Inspector Mark Gasnier, Emma was surprised at her suggestion. Lizzy had taken an uncharacteristic dislike to him: ‘arrogant’ had been one of her more flattering descriptions of the police officer who had led the hunt for Dan.

Lizzy held up her hands. ‘Okay, I know what I said about him, and I still don’t like the guy. But he knows us, and he knows the case. He might be more likely to give us a hearing.’

‘She’s got a point,’ Will said. ‘He might help.’

Emma looked questioningly at Dan.

‘Call him,’ said Dan. ‘If someone’s following you again, we can’t just sit back and wait to see what happens. And if Gasnier can do something about it, then let’s try and get him involved.’

Five minutes later they had their answer.

‘Not that interested,’ Emma said, deflated, as she ended the call.

Lizzy shook her head. ‘I should have known. Sorry, Em.’

‘Not interested at all?’ Will said.

Emma placed the phone on the arm of the sofa. ‘Similar to the police in Cornwall – he said just to be aware of things, not take any unnecessary risks, report anything more sinister if it happens, and then they can take action.’

Dan snorted. ‘Basically it was a total waste of time, then. Sometimes I wonder whether the police actually want to prevent crimes.’

‘Now what?’ Lizzy said.

Emma shrugged. ‘Keep our eyes open, I guess, and be careful.’

‘Hire a private detective,’ Will quipped. ‘They could follow you, see if you were being stalked by this person.’

Lizzy looked interested. ‘Hey, that’s not a bad idea.’

‘I don’t like the thought of a private investigator,’ Emma replied. ‘It sounds too heavy. And anyway, aren’t they expensive, even if we did know a good one to approach?’

‘Probably,’ Dan said. ‘To be honest, you don’t really need a private eye. You just need someone who can follow you, keep their eye out, and maybe take a few photographs of anyone who looks suspicious.’

‘Follow and take photographs…’ Lizzy clicked her fingers. ‘I’ve got an idea.’

8

‘Oh, it’s you.’

Standing at his front door on that bright Monday morning, David Sherborn was visibly shocked. More than that, he looked horrified, which given their history was completely understandable. The man who had been paid by the casting director Guy Roberts to follow Emma, getting photographs for Guy’s perverse publicity campaign, hadn’t expected to see them back at his house.

‘Hi,’ Emma said, trying for a well-intentioned smile. ‘Could we come in and have a quick chat?’

He glanced around the door, biting on his lip. ‘The family are in. Let’s go around to my studio, where we spoke last time.’

As he had previously, he led them around the side of the house to the rear studio annex. The visit certainly brought back all the memories for Emma, and no doubt it did the same for David Sherborn. Lizzy’s idea – to try and enlist his help – was an inspired one and had met with agreement from the other three. Sherborn had already demonstrated his ability to follow people around and take photos. Whether he would agree to such a thing was another matter. The decision for only Lizzy and Emma to visit him was a calculated one; introducing someone new, particularly male, might destabilise things and scare him off.

‘Take a seat,’ Sherborn said, still looking shaken. ‘Can I get you a drink? Tea, coffee? I’ve got a new espresso machine – I can do cappuccinos, lattés.’

‘Lattés,’ said Emma, knowing Lizzy’s favourite drink. ‘Thanks.’

‘So,’ said Sherborn a few minutes later, handing them their drinks. ‘What can I do for you?’

Emma felt sorry for him. Who knew what was going through his mind at that moment? ‘We need your help.’

‘Oh. I thought it might be about what happened.’

‘It is, in a way. We think someone else might be following me, stalking me. And they’re pretending to be Stephen Myers.’

‘Oh, right, that’s… awful. I’m really sorry to hear that.’

‘Something happened while I was on holiday in Cornwall at the weekend. Someone sent me some flowers, pretending to be Stephen Myers. And I think they also followed me and Dan when we were on a night out. I think I’ve seen the person in London too, a week or so ago.’

‘I can see how that would be concerning. Do the police know?’

‘They can’t really do anything,’ Lizzy said. ‘No crime has been committed. They’ve just advised us to keep alert, and report anything else that happens. Then they might be able to act.’

‘Right…’ Suddenly Sherborn’s face flushed with horror. ‘You don’t think this has got anything to do with me, do you? I mean, I know what I did, and I’m so sorry for it, I really am. But I promise this has nothing to do with me. Nothing, I swear.’

‘It’s okay,’ Emma said, ‘we don’t think you’ve got anything to do with it. That’s not why we’re here.’

‘That’s a relief,’ he said, running a hand across his face and into his hair. ‘You know, it’s been a difficult few weeks, trying to come to terms with what I did. I still feel really ashamed. I never told my wife, although I’ve thought maybe I should.’

‘You shouldn’t feel ashamed,’ Emma said. ‘You really helped us. Without you telling us about Guy Roberts and what he was doing, we might not have found Dan.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t even ask how your boyfriend was. I saw the reports in the newspapers.’

‘He’s okay now. But the events of the past few days have set us all back a little.’

‘I can imagine.’ Then he seemed to remember something. ‘You said you needed my help?’

Emma smiled. ‘Yes, we do.’

He looked quizzical.
‘I don’t understand.
What can I do?’

‘I want to know if someone is following me – we all want to know. The police won’t help, but we hope that you might.’

‘I don’t understand what you mean.’

‘We want to ask you a favour. We want you to follow me, take photographs, see if there is anyone who might be stalking me.’

David Sherborn laughed incredulously. ‘I’m not a private detective…’

‘It’s only what you did last time,’ Lizzy replied. ‘Except that this time, you’d be doing it for the right reasons.’

‘Aren’t you forgetting,’ he said, after a few seconds, ‘that I wasn’t very good at it. You found me out, remember?’

‘Only after a while,’ Emma replied. ‘By then, you’d already been following me for days, hadn’t you? And you’d already got lots of photographs.’

He nodded.

‘Whereas this time you would only need to do it for a few days, maybe just two or three – long enough to be sure whether someone is following me. And if you get photographs, we could give them to the police and maybe they could then take action.’

‘Taking police matters into your own hands. It sounds dangerous.’

‘It wouldn’t be,’ Lizzy said. ‘If there is someone following Emma, we don’t want you to engage with them in any way. And we don’t want you to follow them – only Emma. We don’t want anyone put in danger, including you.’

‘Work’s getting busy again,’ said Sherborn. ‘I’ve been trying to put all this behind me, and I’ve got a queue of clients for family portraits. The second half of this week I’m pretty full with bookings.’

Clearly, he was leading up to a ‘no’. But Lizzy wasn’t giving in just yet. ‘What about the first half of the week?’

‘Quieter,’ he replied, with a slight hesitation. ‘I’ve got some night-time shoots, but during the day today through till Wednesday, it’s clear at the moment.’

‘That’s all we’d need,’ Lizzy said. ‘These three days. See if you can see anybody, hang back as far as you can with one of your telescopic lenses, shoot some pictures, then we can meet up later on Wednesday afternoon and see what you’ve got.’

‘Please,’ urged Emma. ‘I’d be really grateful.’

‘Okay,’ he said finally. ‘I’ll do it. And I don’t want any money for it.’ He seemed to relax now the decision had been made. ‘So how is this going to work? You want me to follow you around the whole time?’

Emma glanced at Lizzy, who was trying to hide her delight. ‘As much as you can. But I’ll text you regularly to let you know where I am.’