The Fake Date Read online

  ‘Court adjourned,’ someone from behind her shouted and everyone turned as the judge stood up.

  Ella spun around. She could see the judge more clearly from her chair and could tell that within a moment he would leave the court and disappear into his chambers.

  ‘Judge, please, can I speak to you? I … I need to speak to you.’ She held up a hand in an attempt to gain his attention. ‘Please, you can’t let him walk,’ she screamed. ‘Did you see what he did to me? Did you see the photographs?’ She reached across John Burgess, grabbed the pictures that still lay on his table and began clawing her way over the benches. She tried to pull herself towards the witness box where she’d previously stood. But pain shot through her arms and legs, making her stop and scream.

  The judge kept walking. The door to his chambers opened and closed behind him and Ella watched as he disappeared out of sight. The noise in the courtroom exploded. Everyone began chatting, laughing and hugging all at once. But all Ella could hear was the distraught, hollow squeal that appeared to come from her mother, who still stood in the gallery.

  The hands of her barrister, John Burgess, grabbed her carefully by the shoulders and she felt herself being physically eased back and into a seat.

  ‘It’s over, Ella. Please. You have to sit down. Do you hear me?’ John Burgess moved forward, crouched down before her and stared into her eyes, making Ella take in numerous rapid deep breaths. ‘You ever do anything like that again, young lady, and you’ll end up being in contempt of court. So please, sit down.’

  She sobbed while looking over his shoulder and towards where Rick Greaves stood. Waiting to be released.

  ‘THIS WILL NEVER BE OVER, GREAVES. DO YOU HEAR ME …? NEVER,’ Ella screamed, but then immediately looked up at John and whispered an apology.

  Ella turned and searched the public gallery; she needed to see her parents. She needed the comfort of seeing them, and needed to know they were okay.

  ‘Let’s take you home,’ Carol Hope mouthed as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and made an attempt at smiling. Ella held her gaze and once again held out her hand in an imaginary hold. She then glanced at her father who once again looked strong; his arms surrounded her mother and, for just a moment, the whole room blurred and there was no one else in the room but Ella and her parents.

  Tears filled her eyes, but Ella stared through them as one by one each person began to come back into focus. The courtroom was still full of secretaries, barristers and solicitors who now packed away their files into huge suitcases, which they pulled behind them as they began to file out of court.

  The room seemed busier than it had before and, looking up at the public gallery again, the number of women who were sitting alongside her mother suddenly struck Ella. They were all dabbing at their eyes, all showed some form of emotion that ranged from happy or sad, to relieved or indifferent and Ella wondered how many of them were friends, girlfriends, family, or soon to become lovers of Rick Greaves. On the front row were his staff. Michelle, the tall one with short blonde hair who smiled incessantly, looked like she would begin bouncing around the courtroom at any given moment. And then there was Tim, the gym’s manager and Rick Greaves’ former business partner, who sat with his arms crossed, his biceps bulging and his teeth practically grinding as he continually seemed to monitor everyone else in the room. No emotion crossed his face, but Ella came to the conclusion that he didn’t look very happy. And then there was the young one, Nina. She was slim with long dark hair. She stared at an area beyond where Rick still stood, as though she were looking right through him with her eyes filled with tears. All of these people had befriended her in the past. All had helped her with equipment at the gym. They’d jumped on rowing machines by her side, chatted endlessly, laughed, joked and had shown her how to get the most out of each piece of equipment. Yet here they all were, all on Rick’s side, as though he was the victim. None of them had been in touch with her, not once. So how come none of them, except Michelle, appeared to be happy about Rick’s release?

  The courtroom continued to empty.

  Ella’s eyes ran across the other faces, many that she’d never met and probably would never see again. But then she caught sight of Will Taylor. He stood by the door and smiled, noticing that Ella had seen him and lifted a hand in acknowledgment.

  Had he just walked in or had he been there the whole time? Surely he hadn’t sat through the whole case? She was sure that she would have noticed him; she tried to think of the times she’d looked over to her parents, to the public gallery and felt positive that she’d have spotted him in the crowd, especially if he’d been sitting within a few feet of both her mum and dad. But, then again, she supposed it was possible that he might have just popped in to hear the verdict.

  She mentally kicked herself. How had she not known who’d been in the room? She was normally so very observant. The last time she’d seen Will had been two whole weeks before, when he’d sat in her garden sharing his steaks with a cheeky grin. But today he looked different. He was wearing a dark, expensive suit that made his short strawberry blond hair stand out vividly against it. His hair could easily be as auburn as hers, should it have been allowed to grow and Ella tried to imagine what he’d look like with longer hair, just as Will moved from his position by the door, stepping to one side to allow one of the court officials to pass, which gave Ella a better look at his angular face. His piercing blue eyes caught hers and once again he waved, stared and smiled for what seemed like an eternity, and then left the court without turning back.

  Rubbing her eyes, Ella blinked repeatedly. Once again the whole room had turned foggy and everyone had become blurred. She looked back at the gallery, but only the shapes of people remained and most of those people were now being ushered from the room.

  ‘We’ll be in the coffee shop over the road,’ her mother shouted. ‘We’ll wait for you there.’

  Ella nodded. Something else was said, but now the voices seemed distant, almost like an echo and she stared at the floor, wishing for the feeling to pass.

  ‘Okay, Ella. I need a word? Privately.’ John Burgess stood up from where he’d been sitting. He continued to pack the reams of paperwork, evidence and stationery into a suitcase. ‘Let me just finish packing this lot and we’ll use one of the rooms at the back of the court.’

  Ella nodded and stood up from her seat. Her legs buckled and she quickly sat back down. ‘He walked,’ she whispered. ‘You said he’d go away for years.’ She heard the words that came from within her, but deep down she felt as though someone else had said them. ‘The police must have thought him guilty; why else would they have kept him on remand?’

  John Burgess dropped his briefcase to the floor and grabbed Ella by the shoulders. ‘Look at me.’ Ella could see the emotion in his jet-black eyes; he obviously hated the loss as much as she did. She looked down and away. She couldn’t bear to see his pain, no more than she could bear to show him hers. ‘I said look at me.’ Ella waited momentarily, before looking up. ‘We’ll find a way,’ she heard him say. ‘I’ll bring him to justice. Trust me, I promise.’

  Ella bit her bottom lip. ‘You can’t do it. It’s impossible,’ she growled and pulled herself out of his grip. Breathing in as deeply as she could, she dug deep within herself for strength, but couldn’t stop the tears that had suddenly begun to flow. ‘He almost killed me. Did you see what he did? Did you see the photos? Of course you did.’ She held onto his arm. ‘I’m sure you’ve already packed the photos away, in there, in your great big, fat file.’ She stood up, walked towards the exit and pointed to the suitcase that now stood by his side. ‘He punctured my lung, broke six of my ribs. My left leg and ankle were both broken. My arm,’ she said, waving her left arm in the air, ‘was broken, my fingers, broken. I had muscles that I didn’t know existed torn from my body and I had a bloody aneurism that kept me flat on my back for weeks. They thought I would die, John. No one expected me to live and if I had lived, they expected me to be damaged. It’s a bloody mirac
le that I’m here. But it wasn’t just my bones he broke, he broke everything about the world that I knew.’ She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘How do I even begin to get over that, knowing that he’s back out there?’ The tears continued to fall and she grabbed at the doorway to steady herself. ‘What if he comes after me? What’s stopping him from having another go? What’s stopping him from finishing the job?’ She blurted out one question after the other, then turned away, kicked the door and felt her barrister push her unceremoniously through the corridor and into a small room that lay beyond.

  ‘Ella, keep doing that sort of thing in a court of law and I’ve already warned you, you’ll end up getting yourself arrested.’ He paused and slammed the door behind them. ‘You have to realise there was nothing more we could do. Not today.’ His voice was stern, making Ella cower away. Confrontation made her nervous and she looked at the closed door, looking for a way to escape.

  ‘But … but … it’s not fair. What was it they said? They had trace evidence.’ She held her hands up in a shrug. ‘They said that it proved that he’d been on the moors.’

  John Burgess shook his head. ‘Listen to me. The trace was just a tiny particle of soil they found in his house. The soil matched the soil where you’d been found. All that meant was that at some point in the days that led up to your attack, he’d been up there. But it didn’t conclude that he’d attacked you. There are still too many unanswered questions, Ella.’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘I did warn you that there might not be enough evidence to convict him. He had reasonable doubt and, between you and me, except for the fact that you’d been with him and that you did a positive identification right after the attack, nothing else pointed to him apart from that trace. We were relying on your positive identification, but as you saw the barrister did his job and got you to admit that even you don’t remember what really happened. Let’s just thank God that you are still alive.’

  ‘But he had one of those hoodies, it was in the dustbin. Why would it have been in the dustbin?’

  ‘Again, not proof. That hoody was identical to hundreds of others. They sell them at his gym; every staff member, gym member or even visitor to the shop could have bought one.’ He lifted his case onto the desk and began rummaging inside.

  She began clutching at straws. ‘They should have tested me for drugs, he must have drugged me.’

  John Burgess once again placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Ella, we’ve gone over this. It was too late. It was ten hours or more after the attack. If you had been drugged, they’d have been out of your system. It was more important at the time to stabilise you. It was imperative that you got the treatment that saved your life.’

  Ella stared at the walls. ‘But he had no alibi. That’s why they locked him up.’

  John’s voice softened and he suddenly turned from being a tough barrister to long-time family friend. ‘You’re right, Ella, there was sufficient evidence to have initially locked him up, but only because you said you saw him, you gave a positive identification. You said it had definitely been Rick Greaves that had attacked you and that with the trace and the hoody in the bin meant that the evidence pointed to him. But ultimately it had to stand up in court. And it didn’t. You just admitted that you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t see his face.’

  ‘But …!’

  ‘No buts, Ella. Both you and I know how little you remember. It could have been anyone who attacked you. The only thing that put him away in the first place was the fact that you recognised a sweatshirt, you told them that without a doubt it was Rick and they found the trace. I’m not really surprised at the outcome. I did warn you that this might happen, didn’t I?’

  There was a silence between them as Ella paced up and down the room. She kicked the wall, yelped and then grabbed at her foot.

  ‘Ella. Stop. I’ve said I’ll find a way. I will search for the truth and when I find it, I’ll enjoy every moment of that court case.’ He now walked over to where she stood, held a hand out to her and manoeuvred her back towards the table and chair. ‘I know you wanted him put away for life and I know you are sure that it was him that hurt you, but even if convicted he’d have only got a minimum sentence of five to seven years.’ John paused. ‘He’d have only got more than that if and only if he had previous convictions.’ He took her by the shoulders. ‘So, you see, he wouldn’t have got life.’

  ‘Life is the minimum that he should have got. He has history. His two wives both died suspiciously. I’ve studied him, read the accident reports and Rick Greaves …’ Her voice broke with emotion. ‘… Rick Greaves just has to be guilty, doesn’t he?’ she whispered, her voice now barely audible, even to herself.

  ‘If you thought he was guilty of killing his wives, why the hell did you go out with him?’

  Ella shook her head. ‘I thought I could look after myself.’ Her shoulders dropped, she felt defeated and looked around the room. Its plain cream walls, a table, three chairs, tinted windows and a water cooler showed it to be a typical interview room, just like the ones she’d sat in on so many occasions after the attack. On each occasion, she’d gone over and over her story. She’d repeated all that she’d known, all that she’d remembered and at times she’d wondered which one of them was going on trial.

  ‘I wanna throw up,’ she suddenly shouted as she reached out, grabbed a waste bin and held it in her arms, hugging it like a child with a giant teddy bear.

  ‘You okay?’ John looked around the room as though trying to find a fast escape, but finally walked towards the water machine, filled a Styrofoam cup full of water and passed it to her.

  Ella took the cup in one hand as she held the bin in the other, while she stared into its depths. An empty can, a crumpled up crisp packet and various torn up pieces of paper lay in the bottom. Her eyes fixed on one tiny piece. The word ‘truth’ could still be made out and it jumped out from the page.

  ‘I’m going to find the truth.’ She nodded as she drank the water. ‘I’m going to find the truth if it kills me.’ She kicked the table leg, dropped the waste bin to the floor and threw the empty Styrofoam cup towards it. ‘I’m going to find out exactly what happened that night, John. I’m going to find out what he drugged me with, because for me to have forgotten so much, he just had to have drugged me. And not only that, John, there’s his two wives that both died. Two of them. Don’t you think that’s just a little bit suspicious? Because I do. I don’t believe that anyone is quite that unlucky.’ She took in a deep breath. ‘I just don’t know what his motives were or why he married them, only to get rid of them. But when I do find out, I’m going to take great pleasure in putting that bastard away – for life, like he deserves.’

  Your face was a picture. In fact, I can barely believe the not guilty verdict. I knew they wouldn’t listen to you, after all you didn’t sound too convincing and half of me wants to laugh out loud, but half of me isn’t sure that the verdict is a good thing. Because it won’t stop there, will it?

  They’ll keep looking for answers, searching for the truth and digging up the past. And as for you, Ella Hope, I know you won’t let it drop, so I have to put another plan into place. I have to ensure that the truth is never found, and that my involvement in the deaths of so many can never come to light. I try not to think of the three that I did kill. I try to keep them buried deep in my mind, because they are the ones that didn’t speak, fight back, or cause a fuss. For me, they were the perfect murders and in the future I’ll ensure that all of my victims die at the scene, or that they are never found, just like my first who still lays hidden and still to this day, who no one knows is dead. I find myself nodding in affirmation, while staring into the courtroom that’s now emptying of people. I sigh and stand up, while all the time trying to decide on what I should do next.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘I’ve asked the taxi to wait,’ Sarah shouted as she burst in through the back door, her blonde hair hanging loosely down her back. She wore a sequin covered dress, which was far too shor
t. It seemed to imitate a glitter ball and could have easily passed as a very broad and shiny belt.

  ‘Hells bells, Sarah. Do you ever knock?’ Ella sat down on the bottom step of the stairs, and pulled her long, fluffy dressing gown tight across her body like a protective cloak. ‘You could have at least warned me you were coming. You’d have frightened me to death if I hadn’t seen you jump out of the taxi like Flash bloody Gordon.’

  ‘Seriously, Ella, when did I ever knock or announce my arrival?’ She smiled, made her way through to the kitchen and picked up a mug of Ella’s cold coffee and took a sip. ‘Besides, I’ve warned you about leaving the doors unlocked. Do you know how many criminals I lock up every single week for breaking and entry? Do you?’

  Ella pointed to the wall above the cooker. ‘And that’s why I keep my old school hockey stick right there.’ She smiled. ‘It was the stick I used that day I won the championships, but it’s also the perfect weapon if anyone should burst in and surprise me.’

  It was true; Sarah had never knocked, she was always bursting in and surprising her. But she was also a policewoman, and had lectured Ella constantly for years on home security.

  ‘Ella,’ Sarah said, putting on her stern voice. ‘It’d take you an hour to get it off the wall.’

  ‘Okay. I guess you have a point. So, come on, spill the beans. It’s Friday night, so what’s going on? What do you want, and why are you dressed like this?’ Her finger pointed at Sarah and waved up and down. ‘And why is there a taxi waiting?’ She fired the questions like bullets.

  ‘Come on, he’s on the clock.’ Sarah looked at her watch.

  ‘Come on to what? Where?’ Ella didn’t like the enthusiasm that Sarah appeared to have. A giddy, bouncing enthusiasm that normally meant that Sarah was on a mission, and Ella normally ended up agreeing to do whatever she asked.