twenty-eight

At the Bells, Ben had explained that Darrell Brewster forwarded the digital recording of the dress rehearsal to him before allegedly catching his plane to the States, and the sound engineer had burned the audio-visual file to a DVD and given Penny a copy. Had Rex known who shot the video before Trey told him, he would have been on to Darrell sooner, but that was the nature of investigations; they rarely took the course of a straight line.

He fumbled with the key under the porch light and was just stepping through the front door with Helen when Trey called him in a panic.

“Speak up, lad, and slow down,” Rex said in a calming tone of voice.

“He’s here! Darrell, I mean. At Manchester Airport, Terminal Three. I spotted him a minute ago, checking in at the KLM desk for the next flight to Amsterdam. I’d dropped my sister off while I went to park, and the little ninny got lost. But it’s as well she did, or I would never have seen him.” Trey was talking a mile a minute, and Rex had put a finger to his mouth to motion to Helen not to make a sound as she followed him into the hall. “I sent Abby over to listen in at the desk,” Trey went on explaining. “He has a one-way ticket. What should I do? I want to kill him!”

“Don’t do anything rash, lad,” Rex urged, concerned by the anger mounting in Trey’s voice. “Let the police do their job and justice take its course.”

“But he might get away! He took Cassie from me. I don’t care what happens to me now.” Trey’s tone had become desperate.

“You still have your whole life ahead of you. You won’t believe it now, but you will love again. I did. Trust me on this, Trey.”

The young man said nothing for a moment, and Rex feared the worst. “Okay,” Trey finally said, his voice thick with emotion.

“So just stand by,” Rex instructed. “Keep eyes on him but don’t let him see you. I’ll alert Inspector Fiske.”

“What about my mother? She’s at Baggage Reclaim. She just flew in from Hong Kong.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand under the circumstances. I’ll ring you as soon as I’ve spoken to Inspector Fiske. Stay put,” Rex repeated firmly before he cut the connection to call the inspector.

Fiske answered immediately. “What’s new, Rex?”

Rex told him.

“Amsterdam, eh? Well, you can get a cheap flight there. And most of them speak English in the Netherlands, if he’s planning on staying there. But at this point, there’s probably more panic than planning going on in Brewster’s head. Right, then. I’ll let you know when we nab him.”

After an hour and a half of anxious pacing in the sitting room, during which time Helen managed to get him to eat a sandwich and drink a mug of strong coffee, Rex finally heard back from the inspector.

“We got Darrell Brewster, and in the nick of time. Airport Police arrested him at the gate about to board his flight. He had Cassie’s mobile on him. We’re taking him to Derby North. Should take us ninety minutes to get back there. Care to watch the interview, always assuming he doesn’t cry for a lawyer?” 

“Oh, I’ll be there, never fear.” Rex turned in elation to Helen after the call ended. “Mike is bringing him in.”

“Good,” she said from the sofa. “It was lucky Trey spotted him or he’d be over the Channel by now.”

“I think I’ll take advantage of Julie’s absence to have a shower before I head to the station,” Rex said. There was only the one bathroom.

Helen glanced at the mantelpiece clock. “She shouldn’t be long, assuming she doesn’t end up staying the night with Jeff. I do hope she doesn’t go rushing into things.”

“What’s this coach like?”

“Younger,” his wife stated.

Oh, dear, Rex thought, and headed up the stairs.

The shower felt relaxing on his tense shoulders, and he would have stayed under it longer had he not been worried about using up all the hot water. He dressed in a shirt, jeans, and pullover, and went back downstairs, where he found Helen watching a TV interview with Prime Minister Theresa May.

“Julie just called from her car,” she told him.

Rex settled in beside his wife. “I’ll wait until she gets here. I have bags of time yet, and I’ll fill up the tank so we don’t have to stop tomorrow on the way to Edinburgh.”

Helen lowered the volume on the television and they chatted about the trip. A quarter of an hour later, they heard Julie enter the house.

“Hello, you two.” She strutted into the sitting room in black suede ankle boots and a short skirt, and threw her handbag with abandon into an armchair. “Jeff is so fantastic! And dishy,” she gloated. “And he has this really wicked sense of humour.” She giggled at some remembered joke.

“Are you hungry?” Helen asked.

“We ate at the pub and talked for ages. And then we snogged in the car park, but I didn’t let it go any further.”

“Right, well, I’ll leave you girls to it,” Rex said, getting up from the sofa, wishing to be spared further details. “I’m off to the station. Inspector Fiske has made an arrest.”

“Helen told me on the phone. Haven’t we all had an interesting time tonight?”

Rex thought it might get a lot more interesting yet.