The Price, page 22
‘Please tell me this is all going to be all right,’ she implored again.
‘It’s fine mum, I’ve got this,’ I said, but I could tell she didn’t quite believe it, and neither did I. I had been way out of my depth since the night of the Tesco robbery where I committed the first of what had now become many crimes. It had spiralled out of control, and I couldn’t find a way out of the mess I was making. And yet when I felt close to cracking, as soon as I looked at Tabatha, it mattered less. Nothing mattered now, besides getting on that plane. I had to keep going and make a start banking some of that stolen money, and moving it into the fund. I’d start small, maybe only five of the twenty-seven grand I had stashed above my head, and tomorrow I would add a little more. Some into my bank, some into George’s and Mum’s too. I’d rob and lie and cheat and risk the lives of others and myself, for her.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
George
I hated that I had to leave the flat knowing Mantel was about to arrive to speak to Clara, but she was right, if he even got a sniff of me being there, he would come for us both. So I left for work, and even though I knew Mercer would probably have to suspend me for losing it with Mantel, I didn’t go to the station straight away. I should have, but my wife needed me to do something for her, for our daughter, first. So I made my way to Mantel’s garage instead. If Mercer was at the crime scene, Clara’s crime scene, I’d be sent away. I just hoped she wasn’t, because I needed to discover if the hatch in the floor of his office was really there.
Arriving at the garage, I saw a police car sat outside. Mercer’s car was nowhere to be seen, so I had some time. As I got out of the car, I saw a handful of Mantel’s staff were being spoken to by officers. Outside, hung a crude sign written on card using a sharpie saying that due to unforeseen circumstances, the garage was shut. I approached the officer taking statements and he shot me a quizzical look as if to say, ‘What are you doing here?’
Word got around fast.
I ignored him and made my way over to the scientific support officer.
‘Morning. I’m DS Goodwin.’
‘Morning, Sir. I’m Jake,’ the scientific support officer said.
‘Have you found anything?’
‘Nothing yet. There are hundreds of prints on everything, so until we can rule out employees, this is a waste of time.’
‘And when will that likely be?’
‘For this, a botched break-in, nothing of value stolen? Probably never.’
‘I see. Is there anything else to go on?’
‘There’s CCTV by the front, and inside the building, too. We are waiting for that now.’
‘Who has the footage?’
‘The owner of the garage.’
‘I see. Well, if you get anything, let me know?’ I wanted to know what they found in case anything incriminated my wife. I knew that if it did, I would have to tamper with the evidence.
‘Of course,’ Jake replied.
I moved through the workshop, recalling what had happened last night. My eye was drawn to everything Clara had turned over or looked inside. I tried to recreate what she had done, but even knowing the truth, I couldn’t see her doing it. Clara smashing these things, Clara committing this crime.
I heard a car arrive outside and turned to see Mantel getting out of his black Range Rover.
‘Shit,’ I whispered under my breath. I had hoped I would have more time. He must have only spoken to Clara for a matter of minutes, and raced here after. Ideally, I’d wanted to be in and out before he saw me. I needed a diversion. Whistling, I caught the attention of the PC who was taking the statements outside and he came over.
‘I need you to stop the owner and get his statement.’
‘Now?’
‘Please.’
‘Sure thing, DS Goodwin. But is it a good idea you being here? I heard that—’
‘Never mind what you heard, just keep him outside, I need to look at something.’
‘I’ll try,’ the officer said before heading back outside and approaching Mantel. I didn’t hear what the young PC asked, but I did hear Mantel’s response, two words which bought me just enough time.
‘Be quick.’
Without looking back, I slipped up the stairs and into his office. From the forecourt, it looked like I was investigating the scene, and I was – but only to find out if I was right and Mantel had a secret space in the floor. It didn’t take long; looking at the spot I thought I saw Mantel that day, I noticed a slight difference in the carpet tiles. Dropping down, I carefully peeled back the edge of one of the tiles, and underneath I could see a wooden hatch. Satisfied I could describe it to Clara and she’d find it in the dark, I left and began to make my way back down the steps. As I hit the ground, Mantel turned from the officer, and we made eye contact. He smirked and I felt my confidence waver.
‘Well, good morning DS Goodwin, fancy seeing you here.’
‘Morning Mr Mantel. I’m sorry for your circumstances.’
‘Are you? I thought you lot were sure that Garrett was the crook.’
‘You mean Billy Garrett, who was murdered?’
‘That’s the one. I heard about his death.’
‘Or maybe it was Wayne Tower?’
‘Maybe.’ He smirked again.
I leant into him, so no one else could hear, though I saw the officer twitch, no doubt thinking there would be another altercation.
‘I’ll prove what you have done one day.’
‘Good luck with that, George. After last night I’m pretty confident you’ll be off this case and out of my hair.’
‘Maybe, but I will still come for you, Henry.’
‘That sounds like a threat to me.’
‘It’s a promise.’
Mantel laughed out loud and those around looked over. He shook his head and mock wiped a tear. ‘I cannot fucking wait for that day, George. You know where I am. Now, you wanna fuck off? I’ve got a business to run, and as you pigs are too incompetent, I’ve also got a thief to find.’
Mantel stared me down for a long moment before turning to talk to one of his staff. Before yesterday I would have brushed off his last comment, but knowing now he was talking about finding my wife, I felt myself panic. I needed to throw in a curveball to keep him guessing.
‘You think you’re smarter than us?’
‘I know I am.’
‘So you can clearly see what I can see?’
That caught his attention, and he looked at me. ‘Fine, I’ll bite.’
‘This isn’t connected,’ I said, hoping he’d take the bait.
‘What do you mean it isn’t connected?’
‘I’ve read up on the other robberies. This one is different.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘It’s too chaotic, too rushed. The other crimes, the guy took his time. This was a botched break-in. It isn’t the same person.’
‘So, who the fuck is it then?’
‘That’s what I’m trying to find out.’
I tried to walk away; being this close to the man made me uncomfortable. But I’d only managed a couple of steps when Mantel grabbed my arm.
‘Don’t you think it’s all too much of a coincidence, DS Goodwin?’
‘Let go of my arm, Mantel.’
He did, raising his hands in mock defeat.
‘And to answer your question, not really. Work it out. The town knows you’ve been targeted, everybody knows. You’re on the ropes, your power is fading, and if you’re a common or garden thief, it presents an opportunity.’
‘Are you saying it’s someone taking advantage of the situation?’
‘If they knew Garrett and Tower were suspects, if the blame is elsewhere.’
‘How would anyone know? Surely that kind of information stays with the police?’
‘It should, yes. But you have people everywhere, don’t you?’ I said, enjoying the look on his face as he processed what I was telling him. I almost told him that I knew he had a copper on his books, but I stopped myself. ‘If you notice anything or remember anything that will help, call the office. I’m sure you know the number.’
‘You’re not holding out on me are you, DS Goodwin? Not got a secret you wish to share?’
‘Goodbye, Mr Mantel.’
‘See you DS Goodwin, looking forward to when you come for me.’
I didn’t reply, instead, I headed back to my car. I didn’t know how Clara did it. However, even with her patience, her strength, cracks were beginning to show, and the sense of time running out both for her and our daughter surrounded us.
28TH JULY 2023
3 days until the deadline …
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Clara
George came home shaken, and we agreed that we needed to keep a low profile until we knew exactly what our next steps were. Mantel would be watching. Watching me as I was now in his pocket and watching George following the threats he had made. We needed to make sure we had a contingency for everything.
‘Clara, how have you been doing this? I’m a wreck.’
‘I am, too. I really am. I need this to be over.’
‘Yeah, Mantel is dangerous, we need to get out of here as soon as we can.’
‘I am worried that he will find the link, though. He knows you let someone go last night, if he finds out it was me …’
‘Yeah.’
‘I don’t know what he’s capable of, so I want us to be careful. I think we need to get burner phones. Only you and I know the numbers so we can talk without the risk of anyone – Mantel or the police – finding out. We’ll get rid of them before we leave.’
‘Good idea,’ he said.
As George recovered from his encounter with Mantel, I went out and bought two pay-as-you-go phones. I no longer doubted that at some point I would be dragged into the investigation. Before that happened, I hoped we would be out of the country.
I couldn’t help but note that I was now a woman who carried three phones, two of which were burners. I was a real criminal.
Safely back inside and sure Mantel hadn’t seen me out and about, we kept low profiles, caring for Tabatha and spending the rest of the day and night planning the final push to raise the remaining money we needed. Once we had cleaned the money in the wardrobe, we needed just twenty-one grand. We were so close. As we talked about what we would do, I felt for the first time since Tabatha’s diagnosis that we were a real team.
We prepared to shoot one last video asking for help, and we planned our final hit on Mantel. It was ironic – two things, the same end result, polar opposites in approach. We hoped to find enough to finish this, and if we even got close, that was a lot of money to clean before we put it through the FundMyCause page. We looked at the hospital policy and discovered that they would take up to 10 per cent of the money in cash. We just had to get it out of the country. For the rest, we would have to use our banks and the bookshop accounts, to get it into the system. Three days was not long in the grand scheme of things, but too long for us.
The plan was set. We ran over and over it to make sure we hadn’t forgotten or overlooked anything. Even feeling as confident as I could, we had to wait for the right moment to act.
‘I don’t know how we’re going to make sure Mantel doesn’t come for us,’ George said. ‘It’s not like I can call Mercer and get her to drag him in for questioning.’
‘No, she won’t see you as being objective,’ I agreed.
‘No, I still have yet to face her wrath for last night. So what do we do?’
‘I tipped him off that he’s under surveillance, and I bet he has seen the police around.’
‘Yeah.’
‘So, let’s make sure he knows he is being watched at home, too. That way, he won’t want to leave.’
‘And then with him at home feeling the eyes on him—’
‘I could go to the garage, and get it.’
Tabs was awake for most of our talk, comforted in my arms. She eventually drifted around 6 a.m., and once she was settled, we set her on an activity mat on the living-room floor and perched down there too, our backs against the sofa as we watched her sleep. My head was on George’s shoulder, his hand on my knee. When Tabs was better, once she was well, I was going to try and save my marriage. There was hope; we were so close to being able to begin to put this past six months behind us if we could forgive each other, if we could forget what we had lived through.
From behind us, we heard the sound of the internal door between the flat and bookshop open and close. ‘Your mum is here,’ George said, lifting me from my sleep-deprived thoughts.
‘Yeah.’
‘We need to tell her the plan.’
‘I know.’
‘I’ll go put the kettle on. Want one?’
‘Please, thanks George.’
He didn’t reply but heaved himself up onto his feet. A moment later I heard Mum calling softly.
‘Hey.’
‘In the kitchen,’ George replied, and with Tabs sound asleep, I lifted her from the mat, placed her in her cot and joined them. As I walked into the kitchen, Mum smiled weakly.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, are you?’
‘I am,’ she said, and I wanted to hug her but stopped myself. Now was not the time.
‘Do you forgive me?’ I asked.
‘Nothing to forgive,’ she replied, her smile a little stronger than before. ‘Is Tabs asleep?’
‘She was up a lot in the night, finally settled properly about a couple of hours ago.’
‘Have you two been up all night?’
‘Uh huh.’
‘Oh God. You must both be exhausted.’
‘We’re fine.’ It wasn’t true, really I was so exhausted that everything hurt.
‘Sit down, let me make these.’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ I said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. George put the mugs down and sat beside me, his head resting in one hand while the other found mine under the table and held it.
‘Mum, we need to talk to you.’
‘Oh?’ she said, looking from me to George and back again.
‘Before we do, George and I are going to put out one more video asking for help. Would you film it?’
‘Now?’
‘Please, Mum.’
‘You sure? You both look, well …’
‘I know we look like shit, but it’s important. We want this done. We want our daughter on that plane.’
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Clara
With Mum filming us, George and I got comfortable on the sofa, me holding a sleeping Tabatha in my arms. Once I had wanted to hide her disease from the world, but now I wanted people to see how ill she was. We needed their generosity.
Mum nodded to tell us she was now recording, and taking a final look at George, I began to speak.
‘Some of you might know who we are. Some of you have already helped, and to you, I want to start by saying thank you. But lots of you don’t know who I am, or why I am posting this video. We need your help. Here, sleeping in my arms is my …’ I looked at George ‘… our daughter Tabatha. She has cancer, and she needs …’ My voice began to crack, the emotions I’d tried to suppress coming to the fore.
George stepped in. ‘We are raising money to get her into a treatment programme in America. We need to be out of the UK in the next three days to make the window for this to happen; the next window for this specialised treatment is six months away and by then we might …’ It was George’s turn to trail off. He was still looking into the camera, trying to find the words. For the first time in this whole ordeal, I could see him begin to cry, too. ‘We need to go now,’ he finally said in such a way my heart ached even more than it already was.
‘So far,’ I continued, ‘we have raised a massive £186,000, which is so much money. And we are so thankful to everyone who has donated and given what they can. But it’s not enough to save our daughter. We need two hundred and thirty to get her onto the programme. We are proud people who have spent our lives not asking for help.’ I had to pause to wipe my eyes. ‘But now, we need it, we need so much of it because this disease in my daughter is killing us all. We are doing all we can, and it’s not quite enough.’
I looked over to George once more, and he looked back, his eyes red raw.
‘This is who we are doing it for,’ I said, looking at Tabatha. Mum lowered the camera, so she was on the screen. ‘This little girl who is too innocent, too young for this pain she is going through. Please help us, even if it’s only a few pence, help us.’
Tabatha wriggled in my arms and began to cry, and as I got up and moved away from the camera, I heard George continue to speak.
‘Below this video is the link to our FundMyCause page. If anyone out there is able to donate, please, please, take a look. We have less than seventy-two hours to help Tabatha, to save her. Thank you.’
As Tabatha took a little milk, I watched as Mum stopped recording.
‘People will help,’ she said quietly.
Within minutes of posting the video, people began to comment and share and over on the page, new donations were coming in. Small amounts, but every penny counted.
Tabs didn’t manage to get back to sleep, three hours was all she got in the end, and knowing it would do her good, would help her rest, I got her ready to go out to our Stronger, Better, Together session Gary spoke of. I didn’t want to go, not after we were told poor Sophie had died, but I knew I needed to. If Mantel was watching, I wanted it to look like I was still the same old Clara, bumbling through and stealing hope from where I could. The support group wasn’t that for me now, not after Sophie, but he didn’t know that. I had to hide what I was doing in plain sight, anything else might make him suspicious. Thinking of Sadie, I checked my phone. She still hadn’t read my messages. I wouldn’t either if I was her.
As I was about to load Tabs into her buggy and head out the door, George appeared in the hallway, fully dressed.
‘Wait. Let me grab my shoes.’
‘You’re coming?’ I said, trying not to sound too surprised.
‘If I’m still welcome?’
