Page 122 of She Saw What He Did

*

Lester watched the minute hand as it clicked onto the hour and he let out a long breath. It was done. Finally, it was done. He started the engine. In the distance he thought he heard sirens. So soon, he wondered.

Blue flashing lights blinked in his rear-view mirror and the droning sound of a helicopter got louder. He needed to get away. He realised he was soaked in sweat. The past hour had been the most stressful of his life. But it was over. Thank God, it was finally over. He pulled off his jacket and leant over to the glove compartment for a bottle of water.

It was then he saw it.

Chapter Seventy-Five

Lester’s hand shook as he reached for the water. What was that under the seat? The sirens blasted through his head and the glare of a helicopter searchlight dazzled him. He felt sick. He tried to reach down to the shiny box, but his hand wouldn’t move. How could this be? It wasn’t possible. The box was with Abby Miller. The Prime Minister is dead. The roar of the helicopter pounded through Lester’s skull.

‘Get out of the car,’ his jumbled brain told him.

Bright lights surrounded him. Why couldn’t he move? Why couldn’t he fucking move?

He tried to reach out to the door. Air, that was all he needed, he’d be alright if he could just get some air, but he was trapped in a dead body.

He heard voices. He thought maybe they were angels. Was that Ellen calling him? Had she changed her mind? Was she coming to South America after all? He wanted to get the box. If he just could. Blinding lights and screaming voices made his head throb. His bloodshot eyes focused on the scribbled note that lay beside the box on the car floor.

I hope you die in agony.

His heart lurched as the realisation hit him. What the fuck had she done, the fucking little bitch? His lungs felt like they were on fire. It couldn’t be, he told himself. It wasn’t possible. He’d activated the box. He’d heard it click. How had she done it?

*

Abby

He was never going to win. I’d always been determined on that. No one takes my child and gets away with it. He’d underestimated the power of a mother’s love. He made us suffer unbearably. I could never have forgiven that. As soon as I knew someone else was after the box, I realised we had no choice but to have a replica made. My daughter’s life depended on it. If someone else had got the box, that bastard Lester may never have revealed where my daughter was. A mother doesn’t just sit back and wait helplessly. Not this mother anyway.

*

Several days earlier

Abby

‘We can’t risk anyone else getting the box,’ I’d said.

Joe had handed me five hundred pounds and a Barclaycard.

‘No matter what it costs,’ he’d said, ‘one thing we have is money.’

Jared had nodded.

I twiddle my wedding band and stare at the exterior of the small workshop. ‘Hannah’s Bespoke Jewellery Workshop’ is lit up in fairy lights across the window and inside I can see several lit candles. It looks cosy and peaceful and I wish I could stay here forever. A small sign next to a doorbell instructs, ‘Please ring me.’ I push the button and moments later a pretty woman wearing large hooped earrings and a kaftan opens the door.

‘Hi,’ she says, ‘are you Abby?’

I nod.

‘Are you Hannah?’ I ask.

She seems nice and I feel guilty immediately. She’s innocent and kind. I shouldn’t be asking her to do this. I want to tell her about Sam, but I daren’t.

‘You want a box copied,’ she smiles.

‘Yes, that’s right,’ I say, pulling the box from my bag.

She looks at it with interest.

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