“Just be thankful he’s alive,” said Harry, placing an arm around his wife’s shoulder. “Will they let me see him?”

“Yes, but only for a few minutes. And be warned, darling, he’s covered in plaster and bandages, so you might not even recognize him.” Emma took his hand and led him up to the first floor, where they came across a woman dressed in a dark blue uniform who was bustling around, keeping a close eye on the patients while giving the occasional order to her staff.

“I’m Miss Puddicombe,” she announced, thrusting out her hand.

“Matron to you,” whispered Emma. Harry shook her hand and said, “Good day, Matron.”

Without another word, the diminutive figure led them through to the Bevan Ward to find two neat rows of beds, every one of them occupied. Miss Puddicombe sailed on until she reached a patient at the far end of the room. She drew a curtain around Sebastian Arthur Clifton, and then withdrew. Harry stared down at his son. His left leg was held up by a pulley, while the other one, also encased in plaster, lay flat on the bed. His head was swathed in bandages, leaving one eye to focus on his parents, but his lips didn’t move.

As Harry bent down to kiss him on the forehead, the first words Sebastian uttered were, “How’s Bruno?”

* * *

“I’m sorry to have to question you both after all you’ve been through,” said Chief Inspector Miles. “I wouldn’t unless it was absolutely necessary.”

“And why is it necessary?” asked Harry, who was no stranger to detectives or their methods of extracting information.

“I’m yet to be convinced that what happened on the A1 was an accident.”

“What are you suggesting?” asked Harry, looking directly at the detective.

“I’m not suggesting anything, sir, but our back-room johnnies have carried out a thorough inspection of the vehicle, and they think one or two things just don’t add up.”

“Like what?” asked Emma.

“For a start, Mrs. Clifton,” said Miles, “we can’t work out why your son crossed the central reservation where he so obviously risked being hit by an oncoming vehicle.”

“Perhaps the car had a mechanical fault?” suggested Harry.

“That was our first thought,” replied Miles. “But although the car was badly damaged, none of the tires had burst, and the steering-wheel shaft was intact, which is almost unknown in an accident of this kind.”

“That’s hardly proof of a crime being committed,” said Harry.

“No, sir,” said Miles, “and on its own, it wouldn’t have been enough for me to ask the coroner to refer the case to the DPP. But a witness has come forward with some rather disturbing evidence.”

“What did he have to say?”

“She,” said Miles, referring to his notebook. “A Mrs. Challis told us she was overtaken by an open-top MG which was just about to pass three lorries that were in convoy on the inside lane, when the front lorry moved into the outside lane, although there was no other vehicle in front of him. This meant that the driver of the MG had to brake suddenly. The third lorry then also moved across into the outside lane, again for no apparent reason, while the middle lorry maintained its speed, leaving the MG with no way to overtake or move to the safety of the inside lane. Mrs. Challis went on to say that the three lorries kept the MG boxed in this position for some considerable time,” continued the detective, “until its driver, without rhyme or reason, careered across the central reservation straight into the face of the oncoming traffic.”

“Have you been able to question any of the three lorry drivers?” asked Emma.

“No. We’ve been unable to track down any of them, Mrs. Clifton. And don’t think we haven’t tried.”

“But what you’re suggesting is unthinkable,” said Harry. “Who would want to kill two innocent boys?”

“I would have agreed with you, Mr. Clifton, if we hadn’t recently discovered that Bruno Martinez didn’t originally intend to accompany your son on the journey to Cambridge.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Because his girlfriend, a Miss Thornton, has come forward and informed us that she had planned to go to the cinema with Bruno that day, but she had to cancel at the last moment because she’d caught a cold.” The chief inspector took a pen out of his pocket, turned a page of his notebook and looked directly at Sebastian’s parents before asking, “Do either of you have any reason to believe that someone might have wanted to harm your son?”

“No,” said Harry.

“Yes,” said Emma.

3

“JUST MAKE SURE you finish the job this time,” Don Pedro Martinez almost shouted. “It shouldn’t prove too difficult,” he added as he sat forward in his chair. “I was able to stroll into the hospital unchallenged yesterday morning, and at night it ought to be a whole lot easier.”

Tags: Jeffrey Archer The Clifton Chronicles Historical
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