Recall, page 14
‘Let’s take it one step at a time, Phil,’ she says. She looks at her watch. ‘We should be going.’
You gather up the plates, unload the clean crockery from the dishwasher and replace it with the dirty plates, then you pull on your Armani leather jacket and leave by the back door. The two of you walk across the grass to the hedge at the bottom of the garden. You take off the leather jacket and roll it up. You don’t want to damage it when you squeeze through the hedge.
You spend a few minutes checking that there is no one looking out, then you and Adeya slip around the house and along to where her car is parked.
It takes almost half an hour to drive to Dulwich Park, and most of the drive is in silence. You’re running through what you’re going to say, and rehearsing answers to the questions that they are sure to have. Adeya seems to realise you need time to gather your thoughts so she concentrates on driving.
Eventually she pulls over at the side of the road. The park is to your left. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ asks Adeya. ‘Moral support.’
You grin. ‘You could be my appropriate adult,’ you say. ‘But seriously, best you stay out of it. When they find out that you work in the hospital, it’ll raise all sorts of red flags. They might think that you helped me escape.’
‘I hope they don’t give you the third degree, that's all.’
‘As you said last night, they must know who I am by now. So they’ll know that I’m the victim here.’
‘They’ll want to know about Maggie and the other men on her team.’
‘And I’ll tell them what I can,’ you say. ‘Which isn’t much.’
You wince a little at the memory of what happened in the warehouse. You killed the Russians in self defence, all you could do was hope that the police would see it that way.
‘When are you going to call them?’
‘When I’m in the park. I want you to be well away by the time they arrive.’
‘You have a phone?’
You nod. It’s the one you took from the dead Russian but you haven’t told her that. ‘I’ll call you when this has all been settled,’ you say.
‘You saw the bedroom and the bathroom. There isn’t a woman living in the house. Not now, anyway. Look, I’ll call you. Can I have your number?’
‘Best my number isn’t on your phone, just in case they check it,’ she says. ‘You know where I work.’
You want to say more but there isn’t much you can say because you have no idea what the future holds. Plus most of your past is still missing. ‘Okay,’ you say. You put your hand on the door handle. ‘Thank you,’ you say. ‘For everything.’ You want to lean over and kiss her, but she’s right. You could well be a married man, with children. Any kissing would have to wait.
She smiles as if she has read your mind. ‘Good luck, Phil.’
You return her smile. ‘I’ll always be Phil to you, won’t I? Whatever happens.’
‘I think so,’ she says.
You open the door and climb out. She puts the car in gear and you watch her drive away. Only when the car is out of sight do you walk into the park.
You sit down at an empty bench, take out the phone and turn it on. You have no idea which police station Detective Inspector Linklater works out of, and you figure that dialling 999 probably isn’t the way to go. You Google Metropolitan Police New Scotland Yard and call the phone number listed. An operator answers and you explain that you need to speak to DI Emma Linklater as a matter of urgency. The operator puts you on hold for a minute or so and then transfers you to the switchboard of Lewisham Police Station and you explain what you want to another operator. He puts you through to CID. A man answers and you ask to speak with Inspector Linklater.
‘She’s not here.’
‘I need to talk to her as a matter of urgency,’ you say.
‘That might well be, but she’s still not here,’ says the man. ‘If you leave me your number I’ll have her phone you when she gets in.’
‘Okay,’ you say, then you realise that you don’t know the number of the phone you’re using. ‘Is DC Harry Wilde there?’
‘Who shall I say is calling?’
That’s a good question. ‘Tell him it’s Robert Johnston. He’s looking for me.’
The line goes quiet. The guy had probably put his hand over the receiver. After a few seconds, Wilde comes on the line. ‘Who is this?’ he barks.
‘It’s me. The guy from the hospital. You had me down as James Connolly but it looks like I’m Robert Johnston.’
‘So your memory is coming back?’
‘No. Not yet. But I know that I’m Robert Johnston now.’
‘How does that happen if you’ve still got amnesia?’
‘It’s a long story. I need to talk it through with you and Inspector Linklater.’
‘Just pop along to Lewisham Police Station. We can do all the talking you want.’
‘I’d prefer to meet on neutral ground. Do you know Dulwich Park?’
‘Is that the park in Dulwich?’
‘It is.’
‘I was being ironic. Yes, I know it.’
‘I’ll wait for you there. Please just come on your own. You and DI Linklater. I’m not armed, I’m not a danger to anyone, I just want to talk.’
‘Stay put, we’ll be right there.’
He ends the call and you sit back and sigh. There’s no way they’ll be coming alone. Wilde would already be arranging back up, and that back up would almost certainly be carrying guns.
CHAPTER 26
You sit and wait, enjoying the feel of the morning sun on your face. The park is busy with people walking through it on the way to work, joggers exercising and dog walkers carrying plastic bags to be filled. You start looking through the phone. You had left it switched off most of the time as the battery was running down and you didn’t have a charger. The phone is set to the Russian language but there are no names or numbers in the contacts list. There are no messages on the phone, any that were there have been deleted. You look through the calls list. There are several dozen calls received from five different numbers, and ten calls were made, two to each of the numbers. Presumably they were all burner phones. You open Google Maps. The App opens onto a map showing the location of the warehouse. That makes sense. No locations have been stored in the App.
You put the phone back into your pocket and stretch out your legs. Time ticks slowly by. Wilde had said Lewisham Police Station. That was less than half an hour’s drive from Dulwich Park but almost an hour passes before you see Detective Inspector Linklater and Detective Constable Wilde walking through the park from the south. They are dressed as they were when they visited the hospital. She is wearing a long beige overcoat that is flapping around her calves and he has a black overcoat and a red scarf loosely tied around his neck. You stand up but they are already walking towards you so you sit down again. Wilde is talking on his phone. Probably reporting in that they have eyes on you.
DI Linklater smiles as she reaches your bench. ‘Thank you for calling us, Robert,’ she says.
‘I didn’t really have anyone else I could call,’ you say.
‘So your memory hasn’t returned?’
You don’t answer the question. ‘Did you come alone?’ you ask.
Linklater’s eyes narrow a fraction and she looks away, which answers your question. ‘Of course,’ she says, but her body language has already given her away.
‘Don’t summon them until we’ve talked,’ you say. ‘I’m not planning on running. Besides, I’m going to need your help.’
Wilde glances over at the road to the west. That’s probably where their team is parked, waiting to be called in.
‘How did you find out that you’re Robert Johnston?’ asks Linklater.
‘I went inside the house in Beckenham,’ you say. ‘Or should I say, my house? You were in there too, right? And you saw the photographs in the Beckenham house? Photographs of me?’
She nods. ‘And we found your prints all over the house,’ she says. ‘So has your memory come back?’
You shake your head. ‘No. But I was in the house and it was definitely familiar. I saw the photographs of me and my family. Where are they? My family?’
‘You don’t know?’
‘If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.’
She grimaces. ‘I’m sorry, Robert, your family died, five years ago.’
You don’t feel anything. No sorrow, no sense of loss. You can visualise the woman and the two children in the photographs but you have no memory of them as living, human beings. ‘What happened?’
‘You really don’t remember?’
‘It’s all a blank. I keep telling you, I can’t remember anything before I woke up in hospital. So what happened to them?’
‘It was a car crash. In Florida. You were flying out to join them and there was a pile up on the way to the airport. A truck smashed into them, the driver was high on speed or coke and they were parked at a red light.’
You try to feel something but you don’t. If what the inspector is saying is true then you must have gone through the most unimaginable grief but you have absolutely no memory of it. ‘What were their names?’ you ask.
‘Your wife was Jenny. Your daughter was Lisa and your son, his name was Noah.’
The names mean nothing to you. You can remember the photographs in the hall but you have absolutely no memories of them as living, breathing human beings. It’s as if they never existed.
‘What were you doing in the house?’ says Wilde.
‘I thought that going back might kickstart my memory.’
Wilde nods. His eyes are ice cold. ‘So answer me this, Mr Memory,’ he says. ‘If you’ve really lost all your memories, how did you find the house?’
You flash him a cold smile. ‘Someone took me.’
‘Who?’
You look at Linklater. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
‘Ask away.’
‘Do you consider me to be a suspect, or am I now a victim in your eyes?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Why won’t you answer a simple question?’
‘Because it’s not a simple question. Initially we thought you were part of the team that robbed the house. Now we know that in fact it was your house that was robbed. But you were still driving a car with a body in the boot. And you haven’t provided an explanation for that.’
‘Except you now know that there was no gunshot residue on my hands. So you know I didn’t shoot him.’
Her eyes narrow. ‘How do you know that, Robert?’
You frown. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, how do you know the results of the GSR test?’
‘I just do.’
‘Well you’re not psychic, are you? So who told you?’
‘That’s not important.’
‘I think it is. So I’ll ask you again, how do you know the results of the GSR test came back negative.’
‘You’re avoiding my question. Do you still think of me as a suspect?’
She wrinkles her nose. ‘We now know that you owned the house in Beckenham. And we know that you didn’t fire a gun which probably means you didn’t shoot anybody. And we are prepared to accept that the fact the front seat passenger was pointing a gun at you which suggests that you were driving under duress.’
‘So am I going to be arrested again?’
‘That rather depends on what you have to tell us, Robert.’
It still doesn’t feel like your name. But it’s better than Fish. Though if you had a choice, you’d definitely prefer Phil.
‘Have you identified the body in the boot?’ you ask.
Linklater nods. ‘He’s a career criminal by the name of Tom Fisher.’
You swear under your breath.
‘What’s wrong?’ asks Linklater.
‘They told me that I was Tom Fisher. Fish. They said that was my name and that I was part of a team who had gone to steal from Robert Johnston.’
‘They told you that you were the dead man?’
You nod. ‘Yeah.’
‘Who did?’
‘The couple who broke me out of the hospital. A man and a woman. The woman has the first name Maggie, and there’s a guy called Peter. Maybe Peter Thornton. He came into the hospital to see me, pretending to be a solicitor. You should be able to get him on CCTV. Also Maggie took me out of the hospital and earlier she had visited me, pretending to be a psychiatrist. Peter was driving the car that took me from the hospital. And the fourth member of the team is a guy called Billy. He’s an alarms specialist. When we left the house, he took the car we’d arrived in. Peter and Maggie were in the car with me. When the car crashed, they got into his car and drove off.’
Wilde has taken out a notebook and is making notes. ‘Can you describe them?’
‘I never saw Billy but Peter is in his early thirties with dark brown hair, tall and well built, as if he spends a lot of time in the gym. He wears wire-framed glasses. Maggie is also in her thirties, with dyed blonde hair tied back in a ponytail most of the time. She’s thinnish, athletic build, and has really white teeth.’
‘And where are Maggie and Peter now?’
‘I assume that Peter is in hospital and if Maggie has any sense she’ll have got the hell out of Dodge.’
Wilde frowns. ‘Why would this Peter be in hospital?’
‘A Russian guy was beating him with a baseball bat. He did a lot of damage.’
‘Where was this?’ asks Linklater.
‘A warehouse outside of Croydon. They took us there to interrogate us.’
‘Interrogate you?’
‘They’re looking for the money. Obviously I have no memory of any money but they didn’t believe me. They hung Peter from his legs and started beating me, figuring that would force me to tell them where the money was.’
‘You say they,’ says Linklater. ‘Who are they?’
‘Russian mobsters.’
‘And what money are you talking about?’
‘Money that belongs to some heavy Russian characters. They think I moved it online but if I did, obviously I can’t remember.’
Linklater frowns. ‘You say they took you to the warehouse. From where?’
‘From the house in Beckenham.’
‘Your house?’
‘I didn’t know it was my house then. They’d told me that I was part of a team that had gone there to rob it.’ You grimace. ‘I know, it sounds crazy.’
‘It does,’ says Wilde. ‘Batshit crazy. And I’m not buying it.’
Linklater flashes him a warning look. ‘Why did they take you to the house?’
‘They were trying to jog my memory.’
‘But if they did that, if your memory were to return, then you’d know that you were Robert Johnston and not Tom Fisher.’
‘I think they were more concerned about getting me to remember where the money is.’ You shrug. ‘Anyway it’s moot because we’d barely gotten there before the Russians grabbed us.’
‘And who were they, these Russians?’ asks Linklater.
‘We were never formally introduced. But they were heavies. And they had guns.’
‘And where are these Russians now?’ asks Wilde.
‘That’s why I need to know that you acknowledge that I’m the victim here. I was the one whose house was broken into, I was the one who was forced to drive the car at gunpoint. I’m the one who has been lied to and manipulated. When you first met me, I was handcuffed to my hospital bed. I need to be sure that you’re not going to put me through that again.’
‘We no longer believe that you killed Tom Fisher,’ says Linklater. ‘Now what is the story about these Russians? Where are they?’
You take a deep breath and exhale slowly. You have no memory of dealing with the police before your accident, but you definitely feel wary about trusting them. But there is no getting away from the fact that you are going to need their help. At some point the Russians are going to come looking for you again, and without protection that will only end well. ‘Four of them are dead,’ you say. ‘And one of them got away.’
‘Dead?’ repeats Wilde. ‘Dead how?’
‘Dead as in not breathing.’
Linklater flashes you a cold smile. ‘What happened?’
‘They were going to kill Peter. Then they would have killed Maggie and me. So I grabbed a gun and shot them.’
‘You did what?’ says Linklater.
‘I got one of their guns and I shot them. It was self defence. Them or me.’
‘And where was this?’ asks Linklater.
‘I told you. A warehouse outside Croydon.’
‘When?’
‘Yesterday.’
‘And you say four of them are dead?’ says Linklater.
You nod. ‘Yes. I shot at a fifth but he got away. That’s the problem. They’ll be back, I’m sure of it. They’re convinced that I know where the money is. That’s why I called you. I need protection. I’m the victim here, you know that now. Maggie and her team broke into my house to steal my money.’
‘Can you describe the guy who got away?’ asks Wilde.
You shrug. ‘He was big. And bald. He was smoking a cigarette and wearing a brown leather bomber jacket. I didn’t get a good look at him but I’d probably recognise him if I saw him again.’
‘Listen to me, Robert,’ says Linklater. ‘Listen to me carefully. You do not have to say anything. But...’
You hold up your hand to stop her. ‘You don’t need to caution me. I haven’t done anything wrong. It was self defence.’
‘I understand that,’ says the inspector. ‘But you have rights and it is my duty to explain those rights to you before you say anything else.’
‘I’m just explaining what happened.’
‘Absolutely, but before you do that, I need to explain your rights to you.’
You shake your head. ‘You’re not arresting me?’
‘We’re just talking to you. But because of what you’ve told me already, I am duty bound to advise you of your rights. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’
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