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Back The Dead Line
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. By the Same Author
  3. Dedication Page
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. Acknowledgements
  86. Also Available by Holly Watt
  87. The Hunt and the Kill

‘You’d let him die?’ Clio said wonderingly. ‘Really, Casey? You’d protect his reputation, but not his life?’

‘What do you gain by killing him?’ said Casey.

‘Fine,’ Clio murmured. ‘Have it your way.’

She threw herself back into the armchair and reached for a laptop, typing in a long password. A hidden projector whirred into operation, beaming a huge image onto the wall. It was Dominic and Emily, Casey realised, side by side. They were in a kitchen. Tilney Cottage: Casey recognised the blue Aga.

‘The thing is,’ said Clio thoughtfully, ‘that it’s always a matter of perspective.’

She pushed a button, and Dominic began to move.

‘They came out of nowhere,’ he was saying, his voice oddly deep. ‘We had no idea what to do. They threatened us. We were completely terrified. They told us we would never see our baby ever again.’

Casey felt her stomach twist, her throat tighten.

There was a pause. ‘Emily?’ a voice asked.

Emily swallowed. ‘Dr Greystone told me that we would be helping women in Bangladesh. He’s a proper doctor. We had no idea . . . We didn’t know . . .’

Her voice trailed into tears, a delicate shape hiding her face against her husband. Emily’s shoulders shook.

‘Live by the sword,’ murmured Clio.

‘They blackmailed us,’ Dominic gritted his teeth on screen. ‘We had no choice. They were absolutely ruthless. They stole our passports, they impersonated us. It was blackmail, all of it. The reporters from the Post blackmailed us.’

Casey felt a surge of fear.

Clio stilled the picture with a click. ‘They go on for quite a long time in that vein,’ she said. ‘These are serious allegations, Casey. Against both you and Miranda Darcey.’

‘They’re acting under duress.’ Casey forced the words out. ‘You’ve kidnapped them, and of course they’re saying whatever you want them to say.’

Kidnap, blackmail; the invisible threat was all. The murder of the soul: just words.

‘Your problem is’ – Clio gestured at the screen – ‘that if you go to the police, they will have to stick to this truth to keep their baby. And they will, Casey. Dominic will happily destroy you to bring that child home.’

‘That’s not why . . .’ Casey’s voice faded away.

‘Not why you did it?’ Clio asked smoothly.

‘No one will believe anything the Burton-Smiths say under those conditions.’

‘Really?’

‘No. And Emily wouldn’t . . .’

‘Emily?’ Clio smiled. ‘Emily wouldn’t what?’

Clio clicked another button, her eyes never leaving Casey’s face. Casey felt her stomach turn.

The kitchen at Tilney Cottage disappeared, a new image flashed up on the wall. And Casey glanced up, and heard herself choke.

73

73

It was Casey herself, standing in a shabby hotel room. The plywood wardrobe, the scuffed magnolia walls, the mirror on the wall. The Easton Hotel. Clio pressed play, and the words echoed round the room.

You took our passports, you blackmailed us. You told us we would never see our baby.