‘I like your style.’ Isabel Akkerman climbed elegantly into the passenger seat of the Audi S3 as Chan fired the engine and revved the accelerator experimentally ‘So much nicer than that revolting van you showed up in. I knew you were too pretty to be a postman.’
Chan was glowing. ‘I like to travel in comfort. And I like to change my car often.’
‘Oh, so do I, so do I,’ Isabel purred. ‘But where are you taking me? This is all very mysterious.’
‘Just somewhere we can be private. Alone.’ Chan shot out of the car park and screeched onto the main road. The owner of the Audi had left a mobile phone and purse on the back seat. ‘Would you pop those out of the window when we’re clear of the traffic? There’s a lay-by coming up in half a mile. That will do.’
‘Of course.’
Chan turned her head. ‘I’m so glad you agreed to come.’
‘How could I refuse? I’m intrigued. Perhaps you can help me put things in order, about my childhood … my past.’
‘Your mother, and father. Do you remember them?’
‘They are … shadows. It was a difficult thing, to be exiled, sent away. I was very young, I didn’t understand what was happening to me. I think I blotted them out, to protect myself.’
Chan was following signs to the M25. She overtook a slow lorry, was rewarded by a blaring horn. ‘But we look very alike. There is a family resemblance, don’t you agree?’
‘Perhaps,’ Isabel conceded. ‘But you are pretty. The lines on my face, not so much.’
‘Your age is of no consequence. You are healthy, your lifestyle is good. Living at Simplicity has been a positive thing for you, I think. But you must try to remember.’ Chan felt encouraged. ‘I will help you.’
‘And if we are … related? What then?’ Isabel asked.
‘Then we have each other. Is that not enough?’ Chan smiled. ‘We are two of a kind, I think.’
‘Birds of a feather?’
Chan guided the Audi around the roundabout, took the M25 exit, put her foot down. ‘Oh yes, we are alike, auntie – can I call you that?’ Before Isabel could respond, she added, ‘We are alike … because I know, you see.’ She risked a quick sideways glance. ‘I know what you did.’
‘The Post Office van,’ Moran repeated. ‘I thought you said Sussex knew what they were about?’
There was a pause on the end of the line. ‘I was wrong. Sorry.’ Charlie sounded more distracted than annoyed. ‘They sent someone in to check, guv. Apparently Isabel Akkerman was in residence until early this morning.
‘When Chan waltzed in and stole her away,’ Moran said. ‘Did we get a name, a contact for this Simplicity lot?’
‘An Alastair Catton is in charge. He was very helpful, so I’m told. He confirmed that Isabel has lived there on and off for a number of years. It’s a community, but fairly loosely bonded, not like one of those…’
Moran helped Charlie out. ‘Weirdo cults.’
‘Yeah, I suppose. I mean, they mostly keep themselves to themselves on the manor estate, but members are free to come and go as they please. They do have get-togethers, meetings and what have you, but they don’t spend time doing head counts or worrying about what their neighbours are up to. I suppose it’s a loose kind of hippy-type arrangement. They farm, cultivate, try to avoid modern shortcuts, stick to the basics. That’s the vibe. Nothing overly sinister, as far as I can make out.’
‘Maybe I’ll sign up when all this is over,’ Moran said. ‘But in the meantime, do we have any decent intel regarding Chan’s arrival and exit, or any leads as to where she might be heading?’
‘I’m on my way there now, guv. I’ll let you know.’
‘I’d suggest a quick call to traffic, check out any stolen vehicles early this morning.’
‘Already done, guv. There’s three so far. We’re waiting on updates.’
Moran sighed. ‘OK, Charlie. Thanks. Oh, before you go, any news of Val Savage?’
‘I’ve not heard a thing, guv. Bit odd, I’d say.’
‘So would I,’ Moran agreed. ‘Just when he might be able to help, he goes AWOL.’
‘I’m sure he must have a good reason.’
‘I’ll reserve judgement,’ Moran said. ‘Let me know how you get on.’
He stabbed the red icon to end the call.
So, Bernice’s hunch had been spot on – and for whatever reason, Isabel Akkerman had agreed to go along with Chan’s game plan.
Whatever that might entail.
He allowed himself one consoling thought; at least both fugitives were now together, which meant that he and Charlie could combine forces. But where to start? They had no clear notion where Chan was headed. If she had settled on any permanent or semi-permanent base, its location was still a mystery.
Moran looked out through his internal window. Bernice was making her way towards his office at speed.
This didn’t look like good news, either.