Billie winced, the new phone back in his hands after removing the password protection. A message typed he didn’t want to send. Dictated by Meredith, its purpose to procure a response that might locate Emma. He felt sick to betray the trust she had placed in him, but Jaeger’s story and Meredith’s presence had left him cowed and intimidated. The former SIS agent stood over him now, demanding to inspect what Billie had typed. Accustomed to taking control at the highest levels, these men had the power to snuff out his life like a candle. What chance did he have? He passed the phone over without a word.
Meredith glanced at the screen and spotted something immediately. He handed it back to Billie. ‘Nice try. No doubt intended to get a subtle message across. I didn’t tell you to use a Christian name, did I?’
Billie’s heartbeat started to sprint. He hadn’t intended to do anything. He gave Meredith a puzzled look before scanning the message again:
Hi Emma. This is Billie. Thanks for your message. I think we should meet to talk about the document. I’m in Lancashire. Where are you?
‘You and I both know it’s the other twin. Not a very lucky mother, Marion Dearing. Lost two children out of three. Don’t try and be clever with me, Billie Vane. Change that to the correct name if you’re going to use one: Emily.’
Billie kept his eyes on the screen, carefully amending as instructed, while wondering if Meredith had just scored an own goal. So there really were twin sisters, and the girl he and Ed had met at the flat was the other one. But then… that meant… what? God, his head still hurt!
‘Give that to me… good… that’s gone. Let’s see if Emily’s curiosity is piqued by that. If not, we’ll try Plan B.’
*
Billie had been left alone with Helen Vinke in the kitchen, polishing off a fried breakfast. Meredith was on an errand outside somewhere.
‘God, I needed that. Thanks.’
Helen nodded and reached for his empty plate. ‘You did. Wish I had your appetite. I can’t eat anything other than biscuits.’
‘I surprised myself, to be honest. Didn’t think I’d be able to eat a thing. How long is it since your husband—?’
‘Weeks.’ She bowed her head, closing the door on the dishwasher. ‘Months, maybe. I don’t remember. I have short-term memory loss. I’ll make some more tea. What month is it?’
‘August.’ He found himself wondering about her apparent acceptance of this curious domestic situation. Helen Vinke had the air of someone he remembered in Glasgow, a former teacher who eventually lost her job after a nervous breakdown. This woman was definitely on the edge of something. ‘Is Jaeger really your brother?’
He thought she hadn’t heard him at first, watching as she refilled the kettle before holding out a hand for his mug.
‘Why? What did he say?’
‘He said you were his sister. Said you had the same eyes.’
‘Do we?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Thank heavens for that. I don’t want to feel… his father was… mine too.’ Tears on her cheek at the images in her brain. ‘I never knew my mother. She died in the blitz. I was two months old, so he… he had complete control. I didn’t know it was wrong, at first. Ran away after… a party… gave me to his friend Peter as a birthday present. I was nine-years-old, Peter was sixteen. I idolised him, you see. He was nearer my age and… gentle. But later, it got to hurt more. Antony showed him other ways and I didn’t like doing it. I’m sorry. Did you want sugar?’
Billie was taken aback. The mug of hot water she placed in front of him had not been infused with either tea or coffee. ‘Er… no. No thanks, this is fine. Go on. Did you not want to run away?’
‘Oh, yes. I was nearly twelve when I finally did it.’ She spoke about her escape with as much pride as if she had won a gold medal. Then something more hurtful made her voice crack. ‘I left everything behind and got on a bus with another family. Don’t know where it was going, but I ended up in a squat with a couple of older girls in Birmingham… I suppose I was the lucky one!’ She gave Billie an embarrassed look, pouring herself a large gin and topping it up with a dash of lemonade. ‘There was always someone else with a worse story than mine. Took me under their wing, fed me and… kept me out of trouble.’
Billie looked on as she reached up to a shelf in a cupboard and found a small jar of pitted green olives. Her body language gave everything away: a glance at both doorways before scooping out a small handful, then throwing him a conspiratorial grin as she returned the jar to its hiding place.
‘Better than biscuits.’ She popped an olive between her lips before continuing. ‘You won’t tell him, will you? I told Meredith we’d run out.’
He admired the rebel within. Perhaps the hearty meal and the aspirin had helped, coupled with the thought that even a skilled assassin like Meredith could make mistakes. But he sensed Helen had not yet finished her story.
‘And after Birmingham?’
She seemed to ignore the question, holding out one of the olives. ‘Would you like one?’
‘No thanks. You haven’t told me what happened to you after Birmingham.’
‘Social Services. Or whatever they were called in those days… don’t remember. I got put in a home.’ Her eyes drifted towards the garden, searching for happier days. ‘He didn’t want me anymore. My father. So, I was put up for adoption. That was when I met Marion.’
Billie could relate to her story, having lost his own parents at an early age, but he could not understand a father deliberately giving up a child for adoption. Now he saw the light transform Helen’s face. Marion had clearly been someone she felt close to.
‘Who’s Marion?’
‘We were like sisters. Looked alike even though she was what… three years younger? She was an orphan. Don’t remember what happened there, but she just latched on to me. Slept in the same bed. Did everything together. When the Palmers took me on, she had to come too! They adopted both of us, you see? That’s why it was so hard, finding out about Peter…’
She started to sob, burying her face in her hands, leaning against the kitchen island for support as Billie skirted round it to place a concerned arm across her shoulders. Supporting emotional females was not his strong point, but he felt he needed to return a favour. Besides, from that corner of the room he had spotted a linen basket—bulging with clothing that looked familiar.
*
Upstairs in Eric Vinke’s former office space, Jaeger and Meredith were listening to the conversation over an audio speaker wired to a device planted in the kitchen.
‘Switch it off. She’s only spewing up vomit from the past. And he’s come out with nothing useful.’
Meredith did as he was bid. ‘I don’t think he even knows about the other letter. It’s not listed here, so I still say she kept it herself.’
‘You may be right,’ Jaeger agreed. ‘Or you may be wrong. Either way I don’t want to take any chances. We need the girl, but he may not even know where she is. Why go to Bootle? So, if your whatsit message doesn’t flush her out—’
‘WhatsApp.’
‘All right! Stupid name. Whoever came up with that one needs a painful lobotomy… I was going to say, if your… message doesn’t achieve the desired result, then we need another angle. Preferably one that produces both the document and the letter.’
‘If you’d let me have a go—’
‘NO! I want no more violence. Unless it’s a last resort. God gave us each a brain, so bloody well use it. What else have you got that might persuade Mr Vane to cooperate?’
‘His daughter?’
Jaeger’s cold eyes gleamed. ‘How old is she?’
‘Looks like she had her tenth birthday a few months ago. Sounds like an only child, and from his reaction earlier I’d say he feels very protective.’
Jaeger nodded approvingly. ‘And the mother?’
‘I think it’s the American called Chrissie. He’s been in touch with her a lot lately too. I get the impression they’re living apart but still seem friendly. She’s been helping him research stuff, and she knows about the document.’
‘Interesting. I wonder what might happen if our guest thought his daughter might be at risk from a certain quarter? Or… if one of his circle thought the same?’
Meredith sat in thought for a moment before picking up Billie’s new phone and searching his contacts. ‘I’ll do this one myself.’
Slowly and carefully he typed a new message:
Hi, Is Tina okay? I think Gris is after her. Can you put her somewhere safe and let me know where? I’ll explain later. Thanks—Billie.
Once Jaeger had checked it over, he pressed “Send”. ‘If that doesn’t get a reaction, I’ll shave my head.’