CHAPTER 50
DI Shirley meets us at the Royal United Hospital in Bath. Harry and I sit in the corridor nursing plastic cups of lukewarm coffee.
‘Is he alive?’ I ask as soon as she walks towards us, her long coat fanning out behind her. She has a harassed look on her face and her hair is even more dishevelled than usual.
‘Yes. He’s very lucky – or unlucky, depending on how you view it.’
Ironic that Harry saved his life when he was trying to take ours.
‘And is it him?’ I know it is, but I want to hear her say it.
‘Yes. It’s Dominic Filcher. He’s told me what happened and how you helped put his father away for corruption and then went after him too.’
Jeremy Filcher’s son. All this time I’d assumed this was something to do with Dorothea’s death and it was all about Filcher.
I’ve already told Harry all about it on the drive over.
‘And Dennis? Did Dominic admit to attacking him too?’
‘Well, no. That’s the strange thing. He’s adamant he had nothing to do with Dennis’s attack. He said he only ever wanted to frighten you, not hurt you.’
‘And you believe him?’
‘I’m not sure, yet. He’ll need to be questioned further.’
‘I know it wasn’t him who broke into Dorothea’s study. That man was a lot younger. But what about locking me and Dennis in the bunker? Did he admit to that?’
‘He said he’s never been on your property.’
‘And it wasn’t him who damaged the keypad on the gate?’
‘Apparently not.’
‘So we’re still no closer to finding out who killed Dorothea?’ I can hear the disappointment in my voice. I feel like I’ve failed her.
‘There is no “we”, Imogen,’ says DI Shirley sternly.
She takes a seat next to me on one of the plastic chairs and leans forwards to put her empty coffee cup on the lino.
‘Now can I take a statement from you while you’re here?
I need to know everything that happened with Dominic Filcher. Start at the beginning.’
Harry pulls up outside the villa. A shimmer of sunlight beams in through the windscreen, highlighting the tawny patches in his green eyes.
‘Will you be okay?’ His face fills with concern. ‘All a bit of a shock.’
I’m tempted to say no, I won’t, mainly because I don’t want to be on my own in the villa, especially now anyone can gain access through the side gate. But I decide against it. It’s about time I stood on my own two feet.
‘Thanks, Harry. But I’ll be fine.’
I notice the flash of disappointment in his eyes.
‘Thanks for the lift.’ It feels too final to end it there, so I say tentatively, ‘Maybe we could go for dinner one evening?’
His face brightens. ‘Sure. I’d love that. Let me know when you’re free. And, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call me.’
I touch his arm in thanks and then head back to the villa, alone.
As I’m letting myself into the house, I receive a call from Rachel. I’m so excited to hear from her that I tell her everything: about Josh and the cameras, about Dennis being Sidney S. Crane, about Dominic Filcher. She’s suitably shocked.
‘Do you want me to come over? I can stay?’
‘That’s kind, honestly, and I’d love you to stay soon, but I feel I need to face up to being here on my own if I want to make my life here, you know?’
‘I get it. I do have some positive news,’ she says. ‘It might be nothing, but I think I’ve managed to track down Robert Falkner. In Australia.’
My heart falls. How can I tell her that she’s been wasting her time? That Bobby is dead and that Dorothea killed him, when I promised Annette I’d keep it to myself?
‘Oh, that’s great,’ I say with false enthusiasm, guilt tugging at me that I can’t tell her the truth.
‘I mean, it’s a long shot,’ she says. ‘But he’s around the same age and is a British national, and he has a sister who doesn’t live very far from you.’
My interest stirs. ‘Oh my God, really? What’s her name? Where does she live?’
My eyes go to the old photograph of Dorothea sitting around the table at the art therapy centre with Maisie, Rosemary and Annette. Could this sister know that they covered for Dorothea and be seeking revenge?
‘Her name is Irene Fuller,’ she says. ‘I’ll text you her address.’