Page 109 of She Saw What He Did

Ellen struggled to understand everything Scott had told her.

‘I’ll be home this evening,’ she told him. ‘You need to report Ryan missing to Porthaven police. Ask to speak to Weis.’

‘Right,’ said Scott. ‘What do you think this all means?’

Ellen had no idea. Had Ryan discovered something about the murder and for some reason wanted to take all the credit? It seemed odd. He never seemed that interested in his job.

‘I don’t know,’ she said truthfully.

She was grateful Scott didn’t mention the photos again. Why on earth would Ryan have photographs of her? It didn’t make any sense.

‘I’ll speak to Weis when I get to the Millers, but you really must report it.’

‘I was going to. I just wanted to speak to you first if I could.’

Ellen hung up and thought through everything Scott had told her. Who could have stolen Farmer Richard’s cartridges? Surely not Ryan, why would he?

She put the car into drive and turned on Google maps. Half a mile later, another sign instructed her to ‘Drive carefully through the village.’ She was in Combemill. She lowered her speed and was about to round the bend. Her mind was on Ryan so when the white Fiesta tore around the bend, it took her completely by surprise. It was coming straight at her. She swerved to the left and mounted the verge. The Fiesta missed her by inches.

‘My God,’ she gasped.

The driver was way over the speed limit. The police officer in her took over and before she realised what she was doing, she’d turned the Mini around. The nutcase had almost forced her off the road. He could kill someone driving like that. The car looked pretty battered too. She wouldn’t be at all surprised if it was uninsured. It didn’t take the Mini long to catch up with the Fiesta and Ellen was gripping the steering wheel tighter than ever. He was bombing it along the country lanes and she wished she had a siren. She’d be stopped herself for speeding soon. She really ought to turn back. If she could only get close enough to get his registration. She could then report him.

*

Sparrow cursed as he narrowly missed the Mini.

‘Jesus,’ he yelled as he passed.

The Mini mounted the verge and thankfully he didn’t hit it. That was too bloody close for comfort, he thought, wiping his sweaty hand on his trousers. In his rear-view mirror he could see the damn Mini had turned around and was behind him. Fear tugged at his insides. It was following him and it was a far better car than the Fiesta. He pushed his foot down on the accelerator. He couldn’t have trouble. Not now. It was all so close. The Mini was managing to stay with him and he slammed his hand down angrily onto the steering wheel.

‘Fuck it.’

Were they after the box too? He swerved around a cyclist and shot forward. He smiled when he saw the Mini slow down. There were too many oncoming cars for the driver to risk it. He tried to go faster but the Fiesta shuddered under the strain. The Mini caught up, and he saw that the driver was a woman.

‘What the hell?’ he mumbled.

He turned into the road that led to the cottage and picked up the carrier bag that held the gun. He had no choice. He’d have to confront her. He couldn’t keep driving. The Mini was right behind him and it stopped a short distance away. He watched through his rear-view mirror but the driver didn’t get out of the car.

*

Ellen hesitated as the Fiesta pulled onto a dirt track. She didn’t want to take any stupid risks. She’d take his registration and then get out. The Fiesta stopped abruptly, and Ellen braked. She didn’t want to get too close. She made a quick note of the Fiesta’s registration on her phone and was about to drive off when the man climbed from the car. He was wearing a police uniform and Ellen stared in disbelief.

‘What?’ she said to herself. ‘This doesn’t make sense.’

She climbed from the car and walked towards him.

*

Herman watched as the kitchen staff prepared the dining room for the big banquet the following day. He’d arrived early. He wanted to check everything before the PM arrived. He didn’t want anyone asking questions. So far everything was going like clockwork. He didn’t want to think about collateral. What they were doing was for the greater good of the country. There were always casualties in situations such as these. In the distance was the familiar whine of a helicopter. He’d arrived, and on time. Several others would arrive this evening, and the rest tomorrow. He’d try to relax this evening. Maybe have a few drinks after the briefing. He had a good feeling about everything. This time tomorrow, if everything went according to plan, the country would have a new Prime Minister.

Herman had no idea how Sparrow planned to carry out his mission and he didn’t want to know. The more bungled it was the less likely it would lead back to him. The authorities would never guess it was an inside job. The Ukrainians would get the blame, Herman would make sure of that. He looked down at his hands and was surprised to see they were shaking. Who would it be, he wondered? Not Sparrow. He was stupid but not that stupid. It’ll be the woman, Abby Miller, thought Herman, picturing her in his head. Collateral damage, he thought. Still, two casualties weren’t bad at all. Herman was prepared, more prepared than he’d ever been for anything in his life. He’d be the comforting shoulder for Lucinda Preston to cry on. Luke Herman, the strong politician who would take the country forward. He’d make sure Preston got a good funeral. It would be a terrible tragedy; one that would go down in British history. He’d have to have a day of official mourning. It would be expected.

The door opened, and Herman pulled himself back to the present.

‘The PM is here, Luke,’ said Alistair.

Herman nodded.

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