Cherringham--Too Many Lies Page 9

  Jack froze. The word “gobsmacked” came to mind.

  Sarah continued. “Er, yes. Natalie Coleman. And Chloe we’re guessing that—”

  “Oh, you two. We all know about that thing. He hasn’t exactly been good at hiding it.”

  Jack watched as Sarah gave him a confused look. After all, wasn’t Chloe supposed to be upset at all this?

  Instead …

  “Ohhhh, wait, I get it, Mum. You thought me and Syms were like — together or something?”

  Chloe looked as if she couldn’t quite suppress the humour in all this.

  “Sorry, not my type. Especially someone who cheats. Look, I’m there to save the hall. That’s it. Me, the others, that’s what we want. If Syms can help, good. But that’s the only reason.”

  The most amazing look of relief came over Sarah’s face.

  “That’s great, Chloe. And I’m proud of you for doing what you’re doing, standing up for what you believe, and—”

  Suddenly from outside, the sound of sirens, getting louder, closer.

  She looked at Chloe and Jack — both faces looking worried.

  “Fire engines,” she said. She got up quickly, went to the window overlooking the Village Hall, threw open the window and peered out.

  Racing down the High Street, the two Cherringham engines — two tones on, blue lights flashing, reflecting off the shop windows.

  “And smoke,” said Jack. “You smell it? The fire has to be close!”

  Her phone pinged. She looked down.

  “Tony. I’d best take it.” Phone to her ear. “Hi Tony. What? God! Anybody hurt? Okay, okay …”

  She put the phone down.

  “The ‘Save Our Hall’ headquarters. Just been firebombed. Tony asking if Chloe was there with the other volunteers.”

  “Mum!” Chloe said. “I gotta go, my friends, a lot of them there tonight.”

  “We’ll come with you,” said Sarah.

  And Jack wasted no time.

  He had feared that this battle over the hall could turn dangerous.

  Desperate people do desperate things

  “We’ll all go.” A breath.

  As they raced to the door, Jack thought: No telling what we will find when we get there.

  No telling at all.

  14. Scene of the Crime

  Sarah stopped well away from the “Save Our Hall” storefront, her heart racing from the sprint, the scene ahead — horrifying.

  “Jack. God! Look!” she said, seeing Jack arrive behind her, Chloe with him.

  The fire team was already in place, hosing down the entire building, while billowy clouds of black smoke gushed from inside.

  People were staggering away from the site of the fire, some leaning on members of the fire team or others who just happened to be nearby.

  The village was together, at least to help in this.

  “Mum!” Chloe said. “Those are my friends. I have to go—”

  Without waiting for an answer, Chloe ran across the street to her friends — some coughing, others standing outside the building, frozen, in shock.

  Sarah looked at Jack.

  “Who would do this?”

  Jack’s face was grim.

  “Let’s see if we can find out.”

  *

  Sarah hurried closer to the building, the smoke lessening a bit.

  Chloe was with her friends, hugging them, and even — Sarah observed — crying. The danger … so close.

  She saw a fireman standing with a few of the volunteers, notepad out, asking questions.

  “Guess they got everyone out,” Jack said. “Good thing. Looks like the place went up fast.”

  Sarah nodded.

  “Where’s Syms?”

  “Dunno. Maybe not here or—”

  But then Sarah — spinning around — saw Syms, with the Cherringham station officer, Gary Scott.

  Nodding, talking. Gary obviously trying to get details of what happened here — what Syms had seen, if anything.

  “Jack — he’s over there. Maybe we can talk to him?”

  “Best do that fast. Once Alan catches up with him, be hard to get any answers.”

  Sarah nodded, Chloe seemed okay, still with her friends who had been working late in the office.

  “Your lead?” Jack said. “We may have only minutes.”

  Again, a nod as Sarah walked over to Gary Scott, whom she’d known growing up.

  Cherringham — that kind of village.

  *

  She saw Syms look from Gary to the two of them.

  “Hi Gary. You think we might have a word? I mean, my Chloe worked there.”

  Like everyone else in the village, it was no secret to him as to what she and Jack did.

  “Sure. Got to make sure the thing is completely dead inside.” Then, as if sensing why Sarah wanted to talk to Syms, “He’s all yours.”

  She saw Syms look from the fire officer to her, as if alarmed by this.

  “Ralph. You alright now?”

  The man nodded, his face marked with smoky blotches.

  “Yeah. Damn near thing. I could have been trapped in there. And God — all those kids …”

  She thought. One of those kids could have been her daughter.

  “Any idea who might have done this?”

  Syms took a breath. That air laced with the stench of whatever had been in the roaring flames only minutes ago.

  “An idea?”

  A quick glance to Jack who just stood there, just listening.

  That was all. But even that — effective.

  “Sure I do. Had to be the same bastard who made the threat against me, the same—”

  Sarah put up a hand.

  “And that ‘bastard’?” She repeated. “You have any thoughts as to who that might be?”

  Even in the dark, night fully descended, she spotted a look of caginess in Syms’s eyes.

  “I … er … don’t …”

  Then it was time for Sarah to put the squeeze on Syms.

  *

  “We know about you and Natalie Coleman.”

  Syms shook his head as if it was mere rumour and could be shaken away.

  “I have no idea what you’re—”

  Still Jack kept quiet, as if letting Syms wonder.

  When is the big Yank going to say something?

  Sarah had to admit, despite her fears of what might have happened to Chloe, and all the shocked group of young workers, the building a blackened mess …

  Moments like this — she loved.

  “Everyone knows, Ralph. My daughter, your team. And we spotted Natalie leaving your place. What did they call it back in my day? The ‘walk of shame’.”

  And finally, Jack cleared his throat, the next moment perfectly queued.

  “Oh. And that attack? The guy we saw in the hoodie? Seems like you have some associates who fit that description. Interesting, hmm?”

  Syms eyes widened.

  Jack’s hunch — that the stabbing was a staged ploy to gather support for Syms and his cause — was turning out to be a good one.

  Now, it was Sarah’s turn again to tighten the screw.

  “We also know about your free stay at Repton Hall. Courtesy of Callum Ross. So very interesting. I wonder how that will play with your faithful supporters, hmm Ralph?”

  She saw Syms predictably glance from side to side, as if to check they weren’t being overheard.

  So far, though, no response.

  Jack waited. “So as to our question? The ‘bastard’ who did this? Maybe all of it a scam by you to raise the stakes? Or was it Callum Ross perhaps? For a reason yet to be uncovered. Or possibly Carl Coleman? I mean, you carrying on with his wife. Damn good motive, don’t you think?”

  But Jack’s words brought an unexpected response.

  Syms actually grinned at that.

  “Ha. So you think me having a little fling with Natalie … that her husband would do this?” Syms pointed to the smouldering building as he repeated, “Fi
rebomb the place, just because of his wife’s cheating?”

  To which Sarah thought, Well, that does seem to be a likely hypothesis.

  “Well. All right. I’ll tell you. The stabbing — yes, I put my hands up to that. Little trick from the old days. Always works, gets the media round pronto.”

  Sarah watched Ralph now, enjoying his audience, the showman smirk back on his face.

  “But that note. And this fire? You got the right person all right. No doubt about that. But I think you got the wrong reason.”

  Sarah looked at Jack.

  What on earth could Syms be talking about?

  She pressed. “Wrong reason?”

  “Yeah, I mean, I don’t have any proof. All I’ve got is what Natalie told me. You know how such little snippets of information slip out, hmm? When you’re having fun together.”

  Sarah watched him carefully. That smug smile. Was he telling the truth now?

  With that card out in the open, he no longer had any reason to lie.

  “Proof — well, that might be hard to get. But sure … Coleman, he bloody well did this.”

  “Why?” said Jack.

  “My guess, he must have a dog in the fight, see. The hotel, the restaurant. What Natalie told me — her husband’s a big investor. And — you’ll have to forgive me if I get your village politics wrong here — but it seems to me you shouldn’t really sit on the council and vote on your own developments, now, should you? Hmm?”

  Sarah looked at Jack. But before she could say anything more, Alan came over, pad still out, ready to launch his line of questions.

  His look — none too friendly. He had, after all, warned them to keep out of this.

  It was now quite apparent, they hadn’t.

  Still the police officer didn’t say anything to them about that — at least not yet.

  While Alan started to question Syms, Sarah and Jack stepped away from the crowd of onlookers.

  *

  “What you think?” said Jack.

  “I believe him,” said Sarah. “Though I wish I didn’t. Doesn’t say much for how our council is run, does it?”

  “Stuff like this — it happens. But listen — I got an idea.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Based on what Syms just said, what you found earlier, think there’s only one way to get at some truth tonight.”

  “That is?”

  “We go to Coleman’s house. Talk to him.” A breath. “Confront him.”

  Jack watched Sarah consider this.

  “Might work,” she said. “Full-on attack. But Jack — you know what — if there’s some way I can get into his office for four, five minutes … Find his computer. I can see whatever he’s been protecting with his firewall.”

  “Home computer easier to crack?”

  “Doubt it will be as well protected. So, I think … Yeah. It’s worth a try.”

  He saw her look over to Chloe. “Let me just make sure Chloe’s okay. But she seems good, helping her friends.” He watched his partner-in-crime hurry over to Chloe, give her a hug. Quick peck on the cheek as she held her shoulder. And Jack sensed everything had changed between Chloe and Sarah.

  For the better.

  And he was glad.

  15. Finally, the Truth

  Sarah pulled the car into the gravel driveway that curved around the front door to Carl Coleman’s expansive home, and parked next to a shiny Tesla.

  A lot of lights on, almost as if he was expecting visitors.

  And maybe he is, she thought.

  She had suggested that Jack go to the front door, while she found the back entrance.

  The Coleman home … very likely to be open.

  In which case — a quick and simple break-in to get to Coleman’s office.

  “You know,” Jack said, “I’m beginning to think you enjoy break-ins!”

  Sarah grinned and, with a plan in place, they got out of the car together.

  Then, as Jack walked up the broad yellow steps to the front door, Sarah slipped away into the shadows.

  Company calling.

  Expected? Unexpected?

  They would both soon find out.

  *

  Carl Coleman opened the door, a sturdy etched-crystal glass in one hand, ice cubes rattling, but otherwise overflowing with an amber liquid.

  A man who wanted the stiffest of drinks, Jack thought.

  “What? Ah, Jack. What a surprise. Why, er—”

  Jack nodded. “Carl, I assumed you heard …”

  “Heard? Heard?”

  “The ‘Save Our Hall’ headquarters? Firebombed. I just came from there.”

  Carl’s hand was still locked on the doorframe.

  “God, really? That’s terrible.”

  But the door hadn’t opened any wider.

  “Wondering if I might have a quick word? Something has come up.”

  Jack saw in Coleman’s eyes that hint of, well, fear. A trap slowly being sprung on someone who wasn’t expecting it.

  “Think I could come in?” Jack nudged.

  “Yes, of course, old boy,” said Coleman, finally releasing the arm that barred the way.

  The door to his near-mansion opened, and Jack followed the man with his sturdy drink.

  Cubes rattling like inappropriate chimes.

  *

  Sarah crept round to the back door, aware that Coleman might not be alone in the house. Early evening — perhaps Natalie was here somewhere?

  She peered in through French windows into a massive kitchen, the room brightly lit. She waited for a second, watching and listening. No sign of anyone — the kitchen deserted.

  She knew she didn’t have much time. She was going to have to risk it.

  Now … if only these doors are open.

  She gave the handle a twist. Waited. The slightest of clicks … as it opened.

  *

  Coleman stood in the centre of his expansive sitting room, all leather sofas and glass coffee tables, shaking his head.

  “Not sure why you want to speak to me, old chap, has to be—”

  “Carl, this firebombing. You have an idea who might have done such a thing? All those young people inside. Could have been bad.”

  Coleman took a quick gulp of his drink. Jack also noticed … no niceties on display here, no casual offer to pour Jack a glass.

  The councillor too absorbed in this visit in the night, and what it might mean.

  He shook his head.

  “Well,” Jack said, “Sarah and me … We think we know.”

  Wide-eyed, Coleman looked at Jack. Hanging on every word.

  *

  Now — door closed behind her, breathing as controlled as she could get it — Sarah took a look around the enormous kitchen, with its black granite island big enough to play table tennis on. The stainless-steel appliances glittered in the ultra–bright lights embedded in the ceiling.

  Ahead, she guessed — from the sound of voices — a hallway led to the sitting room where Jack had to be confronting Coleman. To the right, another open door to what must be one of the many other reception rooms in this giant house.

  But that’s not what she needed to find.

  No. Back here, overlooking the garden somewhere, away from the kitchen and sitting room, away from the bedrooms upstairs … was where an office should be.

  She turned from the kitchen, and walked to the left, parallel with the back of the house, down another hallway … to where another room lay ahead. A soft yellow glow emanating from it.

  Please, she thought, let that be the office.

  Carl’s — not Natalie’s.

  When she reached the entryway and peered in, she saw bookshelves, a massive dark wooden desk, leather desk chair. A vintage lamp on the desk — not so bright that it would make seeing the computer screen difficult.

  Next to the keyboard, a wet ring on the glass-covered desktop.

  Where Coleman must have — only moments ago — rested his drink as he looked at his computer.


  The computer still on, just sleeping. The last screen he looked at probably there.

  And if not, well, if there were any firewalls, she was sure she could crack them.

  She sat down in the man’s leather chair.

  Tapped a key and the screen lit up.

  *

  “You see, Carl. We had a little chat with Syms.”

  Coleman stood over by the fireplace, flanked by two white marble gryphons Jack imagined might spring to life and protect their owner.

  Jack expected Coleman to say something, maybe once again label Syms a bastard for all the trouble he brought to the village.

  But nothing.

  “And Syms, well, we kinda knew. Turns out a lot of people did.” Jack waited. Another deep slug of whisky by Coleman. “A lot of people.” Coleman didn’t even bother asking the question … knew about what? “About Syms — and your wife. Carrying on. Pretty much in plain sight.” Jack took a step closer to Coleman. “Guess you knew about that, hmm Carl? Your wife cheating on you?”

  And that finally cracked it.

  Coleman took a step towards Jack, the cornered man stepping up.

  *

  Sarah started navigating the digital folders and files.

  Getting in had not been hard at all. But now to find something, anything, that would back up what Syms had suggested.

  But then there was the factor of time.

  How long could she do this before Coleman realised Jack was just playing for time?

  *

  “Now listen to me, Brennan. Of course I knew about the two of them. Not the first time my wife has done that, and damn well probably won’t be the last. But if you think … if the two of you think I would hurt anyone because of any of that? Ha! You’re …” he took time with the next word, sounding confident he had won whatever this argument was about “delusional.”

  Which is when Jack — hoping that Sarah would come in very soon, with exactly what they needed — said “Oh, that’s not what we think at all. And that’s not what Syms told us either.”

  The man’s eyes widened. This was unexpected.

  “See, he said you have leveraged everything you have into making sure that the new Village Hall project happens. Without it, you’ll be wiped out.”

  Jack looked around the great room, the type of place most people would only see in movies.

  All in danger.

  “And how …” The man rocked. “How the hell would Syms know that?”