The Fourth Friend (DI Jackman & DS Evans #3)(74)

‘And Tom couldn’t have proved otherwise?’

‘No. She was far too cunning for my lovely brainwashed mate, Tom.’ Carter took a long drink of his malt. ‘So I told Ray to tell the others to get out without being seen, and I raced over there and helped Ray. I used all my copper’s know-how to make it look like she had been attacked and abducted.’

Silas looked at him. ‘Wasn’t there blood?’

‘Oh yes, a lot, but there was no use touching it. No matter how hard you try to get rid of it you always leave traces that luminol will pick up. Better to let it look like a violent attack.’ He lifted his glass in the direction of the black plastic bundle, now bound round with lengths of weighty chains. ‘Then I brought her down here while I decided where to hide her. Luckily no one knew that she had had visitors that night. Their cottage had no near neighbours and there was no CCTV for miles. Even so, I put on a ponytail wig and glasses. We had worn them once, a piss-take of Suzanne’s pervert of a brother. I reckoned if anyone saw me while I was there, they would think I was him. I didn’t know until this week that Ray and I had been seen by a dog walker.’ He stared into his drink. ‘I got all the guys together and we worked out watertight alibis, and finally, to make it all seem really kosher, we decided to carry on with the arranged stag trip to Amsterdam. Tom never knew a thing about what happened. Suzanne’s blood wasn’t discovered for several days, and by that time they were all dead.’

Silas grunted, took another mouthful of whisky and fondled his dog’s ears. ‘I’m guessing Tom was never suspected, even though she had been spreading lies about him.’

‘It turned out that very few people believed a word she said. Most thought she was someone it was best not to get involved with. No, Tom Holland was never a suspect. Until now. Things have taken a turn for the worse, Si, and I’ve had to sort it out, once and for all.’

‘Life. I’ll never fathom it, young’un.’

‘Me neither.’

‘But, it’s a lovely morning to be going to sea with good friends.’ Silas bent down and drew his dog a little closer to him.

‘That it is.’

*

‘Run that past me again, Sam. Now that I’m awake.’ Laura sat up in bed and ran a hand through her sleep tousled hair.

Sam started again, this time more slowly. ‘We’ve been looking at Carter McLean’s problem all wrong. We’ve assumed that what he told us about his friends manifesting themselves, and then him experiencing the terrible smell of burning flesh, was correct. But that’s incorrect.’

‘But he swears that’s the case.’

‘He’s wrong. He gets the smell of burning first, and then the imaginary friends appear.’

Laura scratched her head. ‘There’s a difference?’

‘Phantosmia.’

Laura frowned and dredged up some of her medical knowledge, ‘Olfactory hallucinations?’

‘Phantom smells. Smelling something that isn’t there. Do you have his medical record with you?’

‘In the office, yes. I have it in a secure file.’

‘Go down and check something for me, will you? It’s important.’

Laura pulled on a dressing gown, grabbed the office door key and ran downstairs. She had never heard Sam so intense.

‘Okay, it’s accessing it now, what do you want to know?’

‘After the accident, what does it say in his injury assessment?’

Laura scrolled back to the first report. ‘He sustained a fracture to the right humerus at the surgical neck. Three broken ribs and a hairline crack to the sternum. This was attributed to the crash itself. Then there were minor topical burns, temporary deafness and concussion, all sustained from the blast when the plane exploded.’

Sam groaned. ‘That’s what I wanted to hear, Laura. Concussion. And what causes olfactory hallucinations?’

‘Tumours, epilepsy . . . oh, brain damage.’ She let out a long sigh. ‘This isn’t simply post-traumatic stress at all, or panic attacks. He has suffered a brain trauma.’

‘Or maybe a tumour that has manifested itself since the accident. He’s not suffering a psychological reaction at all. He has a very real, physical symptom of a brain injury.’

Laura was horrified. ‘I’ve been treating him for the wrong thing! And I never saw the truth. What have I done?’

‘Don’t worry, Laura. If I’m right, and we have no proof yet, his psychological condition masked his illness. What we need to do now is tell him.’

Laura ended the call, found Carter’s home number but got the answerphone. ‘Carter, it’s Laura. I have to speak to you, it’s urgent. Ring me as soon as you get this.’

She tried his mobile, but it was switched off. She had never felt so frustrated. Wait! Marie! He could be with her, or she might know where he was.

Marie answered on the second ring, and in a rush Laura told her what Sam had said.

There was a long pause, and then Marie said, ‘He’s taking the Eva May out later this morning for her maiden voyage. We might be able to catch him before he sets off. Shall I come and get you?’

‘Yes, please, Marie, and hurry. I need to tell him this. It will make such a difference to his life.’ She stopped abruptly. ‘When did you say he was going?’