you covered it up?’ Jennifer stared at Fox, her mouth half-open, as if she didn’t believe he was capable of such a thing.
‘Owen sorted out the car with a new front wing. He got a rush job done. The place I sent him to was suspect and dealt in stolen motors, dodgy insurance, that sort of thing. Besides, they didn’t know who he was and he paid cash. The police team investigating the accident began to trace Imprezas and I made sure Owen knew when to expect a visit. The car remained in his garage and when an officer came round and inspected the Impreza nothing was spotted. The officer knew I was Owen’s dad. No way was he going to press things any further.’
‘And after that?’
‘The team worked on, but got nowhere. Using contacts I’ve got with Special Branch I had a flag put on the registration number of the car. If anybody did a search for the details on the DVLA system I’d know about it. I told Owen to wait a few months and then sell the car, which he did. A year went past, then another. Apart from a parking infraction for the new owner, the car fell off the radar. It changed hands again and ended up somewhere in the Midlands. I thought that was the end of the matter. It was hell for a while, but I believed it was for the best, that the past could stay that way. Then a couple of months ago we had another hit-and-run on Dartmoor. You’ll remember a prison officer was killed? That got me worried, as I knew old accidents would be investigated. Yesterday I get an email from my Special Branch contact. He’d been away on holiday and had returned to find that the flag on the vehicle registration database had been triggered. An officer from Devon and Cornwall Police had requested the full details of the Impreza. He’d viewed all the records, going back years. The officer was a detective in the same squad as DI Savage. I knew then the game was up.’ Fox sighed and then went on. ‘Last night was stupid though. I drank way too much. All I could see was how my life was going to be destroyed, piece by piece. The newspaper stories, the media circus. Imagine me – a senior police officer – serving a long prison sentence. To be honest, I was a coward. Ending it seemed like the only way out.’
‘Oh, love.’ Fox bowed his head and let Jennifer stroke his hair. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? We could have worked through this together.’
‘The fewer people who knew, the better. Now of course there are others. What I can’t understand is why I’ve heard nothing from this officer or Savage.’
‘Perhaps he hasn’t told her.’
‘Possibly. More likely he’s got plans to blackmail us or, worse, DI Savage does know, but she’s got plans too.’
‘So if neither of them has made this official, what does that mean?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Fox shook his head. ‘But I know what I have to do now. It’s time to stop digging myself deeper into a hole. It’s time to face the music. I’m going to turn myself in, admit to what happened, plead for leniency.’
‘No, Simon. The man I married all those years ago would never give in so easily and he certainly wouldn’t plead.’
‘What?’ Fox felt his wife’s hand under his chin. She lifted his head and met his eyes. ‘What else can we do?’
‘We’re going to fight this. What about Owen, his wife and children? We can’t let this destroy everything. There must be friends who can help us.’
Fox stared at Jennifer. All these years she’d stood at his side; doing the little wifely things he’d always dismissed as largely irrelevant. She cleaned the house, raised the kids – a life on the sidelines done well, but a life anonymous and largely meaningless. Now he realised just what she was made of. How hard she was willing to fight for them and their family. She was stronger than him, no doubt about that.
‘Yes,’ Fox said, thinking his wife was correct. On Sunday night he’d given in too easily to the feelings of self-pity and guilt. Now the effects of the alcohol had worn off, he could see that. He smiled at Jennifer. ‘You’re right as ever, darling. There are friends who can help us.’
Savage was woken by Jamie at a little after nine on Monday morning.
‘Mummy?’ he said, bouncing on the bed. ‘Daddy says it’s time to get up.’
Savage glanced at the clock and groaned. She hadn’t arrived back until four a.m. and it seemed mere seconds ago she’d collapsed on the bed. She reached out and pulled Jamie to her and gave him a hug.
‘No huggles, Mummy!’ Jamie wriggled free, slid off the bed and ran to the door. ‘Breakfast time!’
A couple of minutes later Jamie returned with Pete, her son holding a glass of orange juice, Pete a tray with toast and tea.
‘What’s this?’ Savage said as Jamie plonked the glass down on the bedside table while Pete placed the tray on the bed. ‘Room service?’
‘You were working all day yesterday and had a late one last night,’ Pete said. ‘Thought you might need a lie-in and then a pick-me-up.’
‘Thanks. Both of you.’
Jamie grinned and then scampered off.
‘It’s all over the news,’ Pete said. ‘Sounds horrible.’
‘They always are. Especially close up.’
‘Look …’ Pete sat on the edge of the bed. He said nothing for a few seconds and then touched Savage on the shoulder. ‘I’ve been thinking. This break I’ve been having since I’ve been ashore … well, it’s done me the world of good. Training the cadets, spending more time with you and the kids, getting out on our boat. Perhaps you—’
‘No.’ Savage shook her head and then, aware she had snapped, smiled. ‘I’m fine. Really.’
‘But seeing this sort of thing week in, week out. Can’t be good for you. And this latest one. Another girl. I mean …’
Savage knew what Pete meant and there was an element of truth in what he’d said. ‘The girl isn’t the problem, is she?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘I’ll get over it. I am getting over it. It takes time.’
‘It’s been years, Charlotte. None of us find it easy, but lately I’ve been wondering if time’s moved on for you at all. You haven’t slept well for months. You’re tired, grumpy. The last few weeks—’
‘I’m sorry,’ Savage said. ‘I’ve had things on my mind.’
‘You need to talk to me, love. Tell me what’s going on. I know I haven’t always been here, but now I am … I want to help.’
‘You are helping,’ Savage said. She indicated the toast and then reached for the cup of tea, wanting to bring the conversation to a close. ‘And everything will be OK, I promise.’
Pete leant over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Sure?’
‘Yes.’ Savage blinked. Saw Clarissa tumbling over the bonnet and hitting the road. Imagined putting the gun Fallon had given her to Owen’s head. ‘I’m sure.’
Despite the grand name, the Agricultural Crime Squad had been allotted but a small corner of the crime suite. The ‘pigsty’, as
