Tell Tale: A DI Charlotte Savage Novel. Mark Sennen

her hands grasping at the door sill, her head bowed. When she looked up, tears were streaming down her face. ‘Whatever’s happened?’

      ‘The air-conditioning,’ Fox said. ‘Positive pressure.’

      ‘What are you talking about?’

      ‘Kept me alive. Despite everything. I fucked up. Again. I should have known better than to even try and make things right.’

      ‘Simon. Please.’

      ‘I tried, didn’t I? Made sure the reports got mixed around. The teams checked the wrong cars. They never found out. Until now.’

      ‘I don’t understand. What are you on about, darling? Tell me.’

      ‘Tinkering, bloody tinkering.’ Fox moved a hand to the top of his wife’s head and stroked her hair. Then he reached for the ignition and pulled out the keys. ‘Let’s go inside.’

      In the living room, Fox bade his wife to sit. He stumbled across to the drinks cabinet and took out an unopened bottle of premium malt and two tumblers. The glasses clunked down on the occasional table and he unscrewed the whiskey and poured a generous measure into each.

      ‘No,’ Jennifer said. ‘You had enough last night and it’s not even breakfast time.’

      ‘Drink up, you’re going to need it.’ Fox considered his own glass for a moment and then returned to the drinks cabinet. He selected a fistful of mixers: bitter lemon, ginger ale, tonic water. With an opener in one hand and the bottles in the other he went and sat on the sofa. The bitter lemon fizzed open and he took a gulp straight from the bottle. Three more gulps and he’d drained the contents.

      ‘Simon, I—’

      ‘You remember a few years ago that lass was killed up on the moor? A hit-and-run accident?’

      ‘No, I can’t—’

      ‘DI Charlotte Savage’s kid. Nine years old. We never caught the driver, never traced the vehicle.’

      ‘Oh yes, of course, I remember now. The poor woman. Losing a daughter must be awful. I can’t imagine what I’d have done had anything like that happened to our children.’

      ‘No, I dare say you can’t.’ Fox pointed to Jennifer’s glass. She’d drunk a mouthful. ‘More.’

      Jennifer took another sip. ‘What’s this got to do with you, Simon? Have you caught the driver?’

      ‘In a manner of speaking, yes.’ Fox fizzed open another mixer. Tonic. He downed the bottle, the bubbles catching at his throat. He swallowed a burp. ‘Owen was up on the moor on the day of the accident. He’d camped out the night before, somewhere north of Princetown, with a few friends. They’d had a party way off in the wilds. Plenty of beer, a couple of bottles of spirits, other stuff as well. Lauren was with him too.’

      ‘Other stuff?’

      ‘I’ll come to that. Back then Owen drove that Impreza, didn’t he? All souped-up like a rally car. The important thing is, Owen’s route back the next day took him past the spot where DI Savage and her family were picnicking.’

      ‘He was a witness to the accident? He saw the hit-and-run car?’

      ‘Oh yes, he saw the car alright. Owen and Lauren were in the car. Owen was the driver.’

      ‘What?’ Jennifer’s hand went to her mouth. ‘Our son? He killed the young girl?’

      ‘Yes.’ Fox paused. His wife’s eyes glistened as they filled with tears. Fox wanted to move across and hug her, but he couldn’t. He had more to say. Much more. ‘Owen drove off. He panicked. He called me and I went round to his place. He showed me the damage to his car, confessed everything. He wanted me to bring him in. He was a complete mess, blubbering and ranting. Crying like he was a baby again.’

      ‘So what happened?’

      ‘The other stuff I mentioned along with the drink? Drugs. Amphetamines, cocaine, cannabis.’

      ‘Owen was taking all those?’

      ‘He was on speed, yes. The other drugs, he was selling. That night on Dartmoor he’d shifted a load to his friends. Wouldn’t have looked good on the news, would it? Chief Constable’s son arrested on drug and murder charges.’

      ‘Murder?’

      ‘I don’t know what the CPS would have come up with but you can be sure it wouldn’t have been a speeding ticket.’

      ‘But you said Owen wanted to turn himself in?’

      ‘Yes, but I told him I’d handle it. And I did.’

      Jennifer put her hands to her face. Fox rose and walked across to her. He knelt in front of the chair and reached out for her.

      ‘We’d have lost all this. Our son, my job, this beautiful house. For God’s sake, Lauren was pregnant with our grandson, I had to do something to protect my family. The child was dead. It was a terrible accident, but why compound the situation by bringing Owen, Lauren and the other kids into it?’

      ‘So you covered it up?’ Jennifer stared at Fox, her mouth half-open, as if she didn’t believe he was capable of such a thing.

      ‘Owen sorted out the car with a new front wing. He got a rush job done. The place I sent him to was suspect and dealt in stolen motors, dodgy insurance, that sort of thing. Besides, they didn’t know who he was and he paid cash. The police team investigating the accident began to trace Imprezas and I made sure Owen knew when to expect a visit. The car remained in his garage and when an officer came round and inspected the Impreza nothing was spotted. The officer knew I was Owen’s dad. No way was he going to press things any further.’

      ‘And after that?’

      ‘The team worked on, but got nowhere. Using contacts I’ve got with Special Branch I had a flag put on the registration number of the car. If anybody did a search for the details on the DVLA system I’d know about it. I told Owen to wait a few months and then sell the car, which he did. A year went past, then another. Apart from a parking infraction for the new owner, the car fell off the radar. It changed hands again and ended up somewhere in the Midlands. I thought that was the end of the matter. It was hell for a while, but I believed it was for the best, that the past could stay that way. Then a couple of months ago we had another hit-and-run on Dartmoor. You’ll remember a prison officer was killed? That got me worried, as I knew old accidents would be investigated. Yesterday I get an email from my Special Branch contact. He’d been away on holiday and had returned to find that the flag on the vehicle registration database had been triggered. An officer from Devon and Cornwall Police had requested the full details of the Impreza. He’d viewed all the records, going back years. The officer was a detective in the same squad as DI Savage. I knew then the game was up.’ Fox sighed and then went on. ‘Last night was stupid though. I drank way too much. All I could see was how my life was going to be destroyed, piece by piece. The newspaper stories, the media circus. Imagine me – a senior police officer – serving a long prison sentence. To be honest, I was a coward. Ending it seemed like the only way out.’

      ‘Oh, love.’ Fox bowed his head and let Jennifer stroke his hair. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? We could have worked through this together.’

      ‘The fewer people who knew, the better. Now of course there are others. What I can’t understand is why I’ve heard nothing from this officer or Savage.’

      ‘Perhaps he hasn’t told her.’

      ‘Possibly. More likely he’s got plans to blackmail us or, worse, DI Savage does know, but she’s got plans too.’

      ‘So if neither of them has made this official, what does that mean?’

      ‘I’m not sure.’ Fox shook his head. ‘But I know what I have to do now. It’s time to stop digging myself deeper into a hole. It’s time to face the music. I’m going to turn myself in, admit to what