Chapter 70
‘They’re in a sorry state,’ says Eric Jacobs, bending over the bed of marigolds in Steve’s back garden.
‘Can we save them?’ Steve asks.
Eric considers this. He runs his hand across his head. ‘It’s going to take a lot of patience and a lot of mulch. But I’ve got both.’
‘So it’s something you might be able to help me with?’ says Steve. ‘I don’t know if you have to be off home?’
Eric shakes his head. ‘I can stay today.’
‘Thanks, Eric,’ says Steve. Funny to see this man bent over his marigolds. This familiar face, this familiar head he’s known as a master criminal for the last two weeks.
‘No problem,’ says Eric. ‘But can I ask you a question in return?’
‘Course,’ says Steve. ‘I love questions.’
‘Why did Mr Blackwood do that to me?’
Steve puffs out his cheeks. ‘He wanted a bogeyman. Someone to blame for everything he did.’
‘But why me?’ says Eric.
‘When did it all start?’ Steve asks. ‘I’m guessing about 2001?’
Eric nods. ‘I was mowing the lawn, they had a ride-on, when Mr Blackwood stops me and asks if I like to travel.’
Steve nods. ‘And you said yes?’
‘I did,’ says Eric. ‘I do like to travel. He said, I just need you to make a few trips abroad every now and again. First trip was Morocco. He gave me the Jakob Eriksson passport, I knew it wasn’t legit.
But there didn’t seem much harm in it. He just wanted me to be in certain places at certain times.
Make sure I was caught on camera somewhere. How did you know it was 2001?’
‘He killed Connor Brooks in 2001,’ says Steve. ‘And the two of you … well … you shared characteristics.’
Eric points to his head. Steve nods. Eric smiles.
‘Blackwood wanted to cover up his murder of Brooks,’ says Steve. ‘And he wanted the criminal world to believe Eriksson was real. He made them believe that Connor Brooks was still alive and kicking, that he’d faked his own death and come back as a bald Swedish guy.’
‘That’s why he told me not to wear hats in airports,’ says Eric.
‘Make sure the camera got a good look at that beautiful dome of yours,’ says Steve. ‘Make sure the police knew Jakob Eriksson was always around when there was trouble. Make sure everyone knew he was real, and it wasn’t Vern doing all of these things.’
‘What if they’d arrested me?’ says Eric.
‘For what?’ says Steve. ‘That was the smart part. You never actually did anything. He’d always have Korbin on the flight with you. Korbin would do the killing, and you’d draw all the attention. He took the police for idiots, and he took all his business rivals for idiots.’
‘But I must have been in danger when he took me to Las Vegas?’
‘I wanted to ask you about that,’ says Steve. ‘How was Vegas?’
‘That’s when I knew the whole thing wasn’t right. But I kept quiet like I was told, and I got to see Celine Dion. She’s the one who did Titanic. I think Mr Blackwood took me for an idiot too though.’
‘Well, look where that got him,’ says Steve. ‘He’s dead, and I’m about to make you a cup of tea. Who’s the idiot in that equation?’
Eric is probing the marigold roots. Trouble has made his way out into the garden and is now rubbing himself against Eric Jacobs.
‘What’s next for you, Eric?’ says Steve.
Eric shrugs. ‘Not much of anything. I’m retired, to be honest.’
Steve understands that feeling. He has been brave with Georgie Glazier, and that was good, but he knows the question he has to ask.
‘Did you work for Mrs Blackwood too? Was she around?’
‘Georgie?’ Eric says with a big smile. ‘Oh yes, she was a lot of fun. She’s not in trouble too?’
No, thinks Steve, not in trouble. So Georgie had known all along who the photo was.
Known it was Eric Jacobs. Must have pieced the whole thing together in that heartbeat.
She’d lied, and of course she had, he would have done too.
But even on their date she hadn’t come clean.
You do have to open your heart, Steve has learnt that at least, but you still have to protect it too. He’s proud that at least he tried.
Trouble rolls on to his back, demanding attention. Eric Jacobs rubs Trouble’s belly, and Trouble starts to purr.
‘What do you think’s gone wrong with the marigolds?’ asks Steve. Better to focus on something he has control over.
Eric looks at him, as if considering something.
‘What?’ says Steve.
‘You’ve been very honest with me,’ says Eric. ‘Can I be honest with you?’
‘About my marigolds?’ says Steve. ‘I think so.’
‘Cat urine,’ says Eric. ‘It’s destroying the roots.’
Trouble now has his head rested on Eric’s arm.
‘You wouldn’t have any idea, would you,’ asks Eric, ‘where the cat urine was coming from?’
Eric looks at Steve. Steve looks at Trouble. Trouble starts digging a small hole in the flower bed.
‘There’s a ginger cat sometimes comes by,’ says Steve. ‘Big lad, chunky, mean face.’
Eric nods. ‘Sounds like the source of the problem.’
‘Yep, I’ll have to keep my eye out for him,’ agrees Steve.
Trouble starts eating one of the flowers.
‘I’ll get you that cup of tea, Eric,’ says Steve. ‘I think we can forget about the marigolds for now.’