Proxy, page 14
Amy’s gaze darted away from his and she swallowed, looking defeated.
Jackpot, thought Ray.
“You need to tell me everything,” he continued, “or I’ll tell the police what I know about this case and they can ask you questions instead.”
“You wouldn’t—!” she started, her eyes flashing with anger.
“I very much would.” She might no longer be married to Raphael Markov, but he was damned if he’d allow himself to be screwed over by yet another member of the same family. “And they wouldn’t be nearly so nice about it as me. So tell me whatever it is you’ve been keeping from me.”
Amy sucked in a deep breath, then tossed her trowel down next to a row of plants. “It’s a nice day,” she said briskly. “Perhaps we should go for a walk.”
Ray waited out in front of the cottage until Amy reappeared a few minutes later wearing Wellington boots. It had been raining the night before, and even though the sun was out and the day increasingly warm, the grass was still dew-damp and the air fresh and moist. He followed her through a cattle gate further down the lane, then along a rutted path that ran by one side of a fallow field.
“I’m sorry I didn’t respond to your calls,” she said at last, “but what I saw on the news frightened me terribly. It made little sense to me. I thought somehow it might have happened because I’d got you involved.” She glanced sideways at him. “I suppose that was silly of me.”
“In fairness,” said Ray, “the whole thing scared the bejesus out of me.”
She nodded. “If you don’t mind, do you have any idea about what happened at the Peartree?”
“Nothing. The whole thing is baffling.” One of Ray’s trainers sank into sticky mud and he pulled it back out with a grimace. “I barely glimpsed your daughter before those people charged in and grabbed her. I tried following after her, but there were dozens, if not hundreds, of them all working together in perfect unison. Once they had her outside, they most likely bundled her into a car. By the time I managed to get back out and onto the street, it was chaos.”
“But surely if someone took Stacy in a car, there’s some way to trace it?”
Ray nodded. “The police did trace the car. They found it abandoned in a ditch in Surrey. It looks like the kidnappers switched vehicles a number of times and the police lost track of them.” He shrugged. “Right now, she could be just about anywhere.”
“And how do you know all this about the police?” Amy asked him.
“With the help of an old friend,” Ray replied after a short pause.
Amy Cotter stopped briefly to stare at Ray. “The same one that helped you find my address, perhaps?”
Ray’s responded with an enigmatic smile. The less Amy knew about Eunice, the better.
They walked in silence for another minute before Amy spoke again. “What exactly is it you want from me then, Mr Thomas?”
“Everything and anything you can think of,” he said, and shot her a look. “And I mean everything, Miss Cotter. I’ll know if you’re holding back. I’ll decide what’s important and what isn’t.”
She let out a sigh that sounded like it came from the depths of her lungs. “Some things aren’t easy for me to talk about.”
“Some things never are.”
“Very well.” She licked her lips and swallowed. “I don’t know how this can possibly help you, but…if you must know, Raphael Markov isn’t Stacy’s biological father.”
Ray stared at her, unable to hide his surprise. “Go on.”
“I need to explain myself,” she said, “for this to make sense. I was very young when I met Raphael. I wouldn’t call it a whirlwind romance, but we were married less than six months after we met. It was wonderful at first.” Her expression darkened, sodden soil squelching beneath her boots as they walked. “But after we were married things were rather different.”
“How so?”
“The only time he paid attention to me after I joined him on his family’s estate was when he wanted sex, and then only rarely. Except then he…”
“He what, Miss Cotter?”
“As I said,” she replied, “some things are hard to talk about.”
“If Raphael isn’t Stacy’s father, then that puts things in a whole different light, surely you can see that? It makes the question of why he would hole her up in his own private hospital even more pertinent—assuming he knows Stacy isn’t his daughter. Does he?”
“He does.”
Jesus. It was one thing to hold some things back, but this…this was more than he’d expected. Even so, he could feel his patience wearing thin.
“You’re angry with me,” she said, glancing sideways at him.
“I’m not angry with you,” said Ray, although in reality this was far from the truth. “I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me any of this in the first place.”
“I’ve already been through a harrowing divorce and then a court case where Stacy is concerned,” she said. “The latter carried out in the full view of the public eye. Having reporters dog your every waking second is not an experience I can recommend, nor one I wish ever to repeat.”
“Then understand that whatever you say to me, Miss Cotter, is in complete confidentiality. Please,” he said, with all the sincerity he could muster, “if you want me to find Stacy, leave nothing out.”
Amy stopped walking and turned to face him, her mouth set in a thin line. “You have to understand that being married to Raphael felt like being married to two different men.”
“How so?”
“He hit me. Not often, and only on those rare occasions we were in bed together.” Anger showed in her eyes and in the set of her mouth. “I often wished I could have seen that side of him before we were married, but the truth is we waited until our wedding day.” She laughed under her breath. “Like a fool, I believed him when he said he liked that I was old-fashioned. Fortunately, after we were married, and I’d seen him for who he really was, he spent most of his time away from home. He was always away on some business trip or other, sometimes for weeks or even months.” One corner of her mouth turned up. “The longer he was away, Mr Thomas, the happier I was.”
She started walking again and Ray moved to follow. “Then why didn’t you leave him?”
“I wanted to,” she said, “but Raphael threatened me. He didn’t threaten my life, exactly, although by then I very much believed he was capable of such a thing. He intimated that I would be ruined, that his lawyers would first destroy my life, and then my reputation.” She paused, as if steeling herself. “Then I met Isaac.”
Ray shook his head. “Who?”
“Isaac Sizemore. A scientist. He worked for Raphael’s father, David, back when he was still in overall charge of the company. We first met at a garden party held for Telop’s main shareholders and I fell pregnant with Stacy while Raphael was away on one of his trips.” She smiled to herself, and Ray guessed she was thinking about Sizemore. “Do you know,” she added, “I’ve never told another living soul about any of this?”
“How did Raphael find out the truth about Stacy?”
“Well, under the circumstances it would soon have been rather obvious. I told him as soon as I knew I was pregnant. And…he was fine with it. He even offered to bring Stacy up as his own child.”
Ray gaped at her in surprise. “He did?”
She let out a soft chuckle. “I was as surprised as you are. Raphael demanded, however, that I keep all this secret, especially where his own father was concerned. In return, I could live my life effectively separate from his, and without losing the lifestyle I had become used to.”
“So you had to pretend you were still a happy couple.”
“Precisely—all for the sake of Raphael’s father.” The last vestiges of her smile faded. “Nobody was more delighted by my pregnancy than David Markov. It seemed like every time I spoke with him he’d ask if he was a grandfather yet. He framed it like a joke, but he clearly expected Raphael to produce an heir.”
They passed into another field and followed another rutted path. They were, Ray saw, following a circular route that would lead back to Amy’s cottage. “And what about this man Isaac Sizemore?” he asked. “How did he feel about this arrangement?”
“Well,” she said, “that’s the thing. I wasn’t interested in accepting Raphael’s offer. In fact, I had every intention of leaving him for Isaac and taking Stacy with me, even if it meant fleeing in the night and suffering my husband’s wrath. But Isaac disappeared before I even had a chance to tell him I was pregnant.”
She looked sideways at him, her eyes heavy with regret and decades-old pain. “Isaac would never have done such a thing voluntarily. I confronted Raphael, afraid he might have done something to Isaac, and he told me Isaac was a problem that had been taken care of.” Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Do you see now why everything to do with the Markov’s frightens me so much?”
Ray reached out and touched her elbow to bring her to a halt. “I want to be clear about this,” he said, facing her. “Do you have any proof that Raphael Markov murdered Stacy’s biological father?”
“No,” she admitted, her voice small and so quiet he could barely hear her over the rumble of the nearby motorway and the rush of the wind through trees. “But the way he said it, I was increasingly sure that was what he meant.”
Ray shook his head in confusion, unable to quite yet fit all the pieces together in his head. “I thought Raphael as good as disowned Stacy when you and he divorced. Why go to all the trouble of getting rid of Isaac and taking Stacy as his own daughter, only to disown her later on?”
“Raphael’s father is a strict Catholic, and a very conservative one, to boot. I quickly learned he had been unwilling to give Raphael any measure of control over the company unless he first married and produced children.”
Amy flashed him a tight smile. “In David Markov’s eyes, I was little more than a brood mare. But after the old man had a stroke and wound up in a vegetative state, Raphael took control of Telop. With his father out of the way, he no longer needed to keep up the pretence, and got rid of both myself and Stacy in short order.”
Ray nodded slowly. “So you can’t think of any other reason why Raphael would suddenly be concerned for Stacy’s well-being?”
By now they had arrived back at the same gate near the cottage. “None, I’m afraid. Most likely, Mr Thomas, he’s keeping up appearances for the sake of Telop’s shareholders. As far as the world is concerned, after all, she’s still his biological daughter.”
“And you’ve never told anyone any of this?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
Her story seemed plausible enough, but Ray couldn’t shake the feeling he’d missed something regardless. “There isn’t anything else you can tell me?”
“Frankly, Mr Thomas,” said Amy, “I feel wrung out after talking about all this. If I could add anything more, I would have.”
“You’re sure?”
“Entirely.”
Ray held her gaze, sure beyond any measure of doubt that she was still hiding something from him. But what?
“I want to remind you why I’m involved in all this,” Ray said, not moving. “Your ex-husband ruined me.”
Amy swallowed. “I know you had some difficulties with Raphael back when Stacy…when she got herself in trouble.”
“To be precise,” said Ray, his eyes still locked on hers, “I was carrying out an undercover investigation into an agency offering third-party proxy access to the skins of pretty young girls—including your daughter. When Stacy was caught in a sting, your ex-husband warned me I’d regret it if I didn’t alter my statement and help drop the charges against her.”
“Mr Thomas…”
“I’m not done,” he snapped. “I refused. Except once the trial ended, backdated payments appeared in my personal accounts that made it look like I’d been taking backhanders from proxy dealers. Now, I can’t prove Raphael was behind it, but I can’t think of anyone else with the resources to pull off something like that. It’s a little more than ‘difficulties’, Miss Cotter.”
“Of course.” Amy nodded, clearly embarrassed and perhaps a little overwhelmed. “If I can think of anything else, I’ll let you know. Goodbye.”
She turned and stepped inside her cottage, pushing the front door shut. Ray stared at the closed door, trying to figure out what it was that kept niggling at him, then gave up and returned to his car.
It didn’t hit him until he was halfway back to London.
In sheer frustration, he punched the dashboard with one clenched fist, then told the car to retrace its journey back to Amy Cotter’s cottage.
It took the next off-ramp and Ray paid a premium to qualify as priority traffic. The car swung into a reserved lane and by the time he arrived back outside the cottage the sun had already moved a good distance across the sky.
When he shoved at the cottage’s front door, he found it unlocked. Stepping inside, he found Amy in her living room next to an open suitcase, folded clothes in her hands and a look of terrified shock on her face.
“Going somewhere?” he asked.
“I… thought it best, in case any journalists found me as easily as you did. A friend has a place by the sea. I have the use of it any time I want.”
“When was Stacy born?”
Amy stared at him in confusion. “March 2033. Why?”
“You said Raphael was like a different man when he shared a bed with you.”
“Oh.” Her eyes grew weary. “I did, didn’t I?”
“You were talking about proxy,” said Ray, stepping further into the cottage. “It was Raphael’s body, but it wasn’t his mind in control, was it? Proxy was brand-new back then, but Raphael’s one of the few people who could have had access to the high-end 3D printers needed to manufacture it.”
Instead of issuing a denial, Amy sank wearily into a chair next to a small dining table. “I see now I should have picked my words more carefully.”
“This is the last time you’ll hold out on me,” Ray warned her, taking a seat across from her. “Now tell me everything you left out.”
“I only found out about it myself when Raphael’s blackmailer contacted me,” she explained, looking suddenly older than her years.
Ray felt a jolt of surprise. “Blackmailer?”
“A man named Paul Green. He was Raphael’s driver, back when people bothered with such things.” Reaching into a cabinet next to the table, Amy took out a bottle of sherry and poured a large measure into a tumbler. “I’m glad I saved this. Do you want some?”
“No, thank you. But feel free.”
Amy nodded and drank most of it down, her hand trembling slightly. After composing herself, she continued. “I’d only met this man Green a few times and barely spoke with him. They had a lot of staff on the family estate, so I thought nothing of it when a new driver was hired to replace him. When Green contacted me years later, it was to tell me he’d been proxying with Raphael every time he and I made love.”
Ray struggled to contain his excitement. All these years he’d been looking for leverage that could hurt Raphael Markov, and with any luck, he’d finally found it.
“When was it that Green approached you?” Ray asked, fighting to keep his voice steady.
“This was a few years after Stacy was born.” She poured herself another measure of sherry. “At first I had no idea what he was talking about. Proxy was still very new at that time. When I understood what he was telling me, well, I felt utterly violated.”
“But why would Raphael go to such extraordinary lengths to avoid being intimate with you?”
The look she gave Ray suggested he was an idiot. “Because my ex-husband is gay, Mr Thomas. Not that I knew it before then.”
A sudden warmth enveloped Ray’s cheeks. “That would explain it, I suppose.”
“Indeed,” she said archly. “Green went on to tell me he’d also made a point of telling David Markov everything Raphael had done in order to give his father the heir he so badly wanted. By what I suspect is no coincidence at all, that’s almost the exact same time David Markov suffered the first of a series of devastating strokes.”
It was clear from her tone that Amy felt little sympathy for the old man.
“Did Green say what he wanted from you?” Ray pressed. “Why did he wait so long to contact you?”
“It seems he’d already tried to blackmail Raphael in return for his continued silence, but Raphael, fool that he is, refused to pay up.” Amy lifted an eyebrow. “So Green did as he’d promised he would and told me and David Markov everything. He told me if I couldn’t persuade Raphael to cooperate with his demands, his next stop would be the press.”
“What did you do?”
“What he wanted me to, of course,” Amy replied, her voice dark and laden with emotion. “And only because I was determined to keep Stacy safe. Raphael was badly shaken when I called him and told him that Green had contacted me and what he had said. He clearly hadn’t taken Green’s threats seriously. I told Raphael I wanted to meet with him so we could talk about it.”
Something occurred to Ray. “Were you actually divorced at this time, or still keeping up the pretence?”
“Technically, we were still married, although at that time I’d hardly seen Raphael in years. I had my own house on the grounds of the estate and a townhouse in the city where I spent nearly all my time. Once Raphael had arranged for the care of his father following the first of his strokes, we met at his London office.”
Amy gazed into the depths of her tumbler as if scrying the future. “Raphael was different—colder and more aloof than I remembered him.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how I could have ever believed I was in love with him. He agreed to pay Green off and I told him I wanted an immediate no-contest divorce in return for my silence. We’d maintain the fiction that Stacy was his daughter.” A wry smile crossed her face. “He agreed, of course, and kept his word. But it was difficult going from what I had grown used to, to…a simpler life, you might say.” Her expression grew bitter. “I hadn’t realized how hard it would be on Stacy, however. She was still very young when all this happened, but I hadn’t thought about how it might affect her later on, having such a well-known father whom she never saw. And who showed no interest in seeing her.”
