Down to Earth

I remembered that Calum hadn’t been the only person dragged off to the police station because of me. ‘What about Matt?’ I asked in a tremulous voice.

‘Mr Matthew Treguier is still helping us with our enquiries.’

I realised with a jolt that I hadn’t even known Matt’s surname. Matt Treguier … I toyed with the name, letting it flow over my lips. Then I saw Dr Patel watching me intently and I closed my mouth with a snap. Matt was in enough trouble because of me.

But it was too late. Like the vastness of the ocean, this institution was bigger and infinitely more powerful than me. DI Smith narrowed her pale eyes behind those glasses, her expression intent. I remembered what she’d said about hostage dependency and realised I’d been swept right into her clutches.

‘Can you tell us about your feelings for Mr Treguier?’ Dr Patel asked in that deceptively soft voice. ‘Do you feel responsible for him, protective of him, perhaps?’

‘I hardly know him,’ I replied.

‘Then how do you account for the fact that the jumpsuit you were wearing when you went missing over six years ago has been found, along with a toothbrush, which we are currently testing for your DNA, in the back of Mr Treguier’s car?’

I felt as if a particularly icy wave had slapped me in the face. I’d forgotten to mention in my statement that I’d brought the jumpsuit back with me from Kent when recounting the incredible events of the previous day.

‘I put them there.’ I tried to regain some semblance of control. ‘Matt hasn’t done anything wrong. Ask Kevin – he was with us.’

‘Would that be Mr Kevin Wheeler?’

‘Yes.’

Dr Patel leaned towards me, her expression intense. ‘And what can you tell us about your relationship with Kevin?’

The DI gave a triumphant smile as I reeled backwards, shocked that every word that escaped my lips seemed to implicate someone else. ‘We were rather hoping you would mention Mr Wheeler. He’s been of interest to us for some time. He was one of the last people to see you before you disappeared, I believe?’

I nodded reluctantly. My case had been left open and now they could see a chance of solving a six-year-old mystery; a statistic to add to their end-of-year clean up rate.

‘Can you tell us why Mr Wheeler might be in possession of an unusual amount of documentation concerning your disappearance?’

‘He was interested in what happened to me, I suppose. It seems my so-called disappearance did make quite an impact on his life.’

‘ An obsessive amount of documentation,’ DI Smith declared as if I hadn’t spoken. Her eyes watched me closely for a reaction. ‘Newspaper cuttings, photos of you, computer printouts of other disappearances; the sort of collection someone with an unhealthy interest in your case might accumulate. He and Mr Treguier are friends, I believe?’

‘I think they have become friends recently – since the jump. They had never met each other prior to the day … it … happened.’

The DI leaned forward, her eyes fixed on mine. ‘Would you be surprised to learn that Mr Wheeler did know Mr Treguier before you and your other colleagues went down to the airfield that day?’

A picture of the four of us – Graham, Kevin, Ingrid and me – arriving at the airfield and being introduced to our instructor swam before my eyes. Neither Matt nor Kevin had given any indication of having already met.

‘I don’t believe it.’

‘We have records showing that Kevin Wheeler had already completed a static line jump the week before he went with you to the airfield on the day you vanished. According to the parachute company’s log book, Mr Treguier was his instructor.’

Calum had told me to fight, but the breakers just kept toppling over my head. No matter what I said, no one was going to believe me. They’d decided I’d been kidnapped by Matt or Kevin, or both. I gulped in a desperate breath of air. Hadn’t I fleetingly suspected both Matt and Kevin myself? Perhaps it was time to give up the battle and simply sink beneath the waves. Maybe DI Smith and Dr Patel’s theory was right and I had been drugged and abducted by Matt and Kevin and simply couldn’t remember anything about it. After all, it wasn’t as if I had a better explanation …

Chapter Thirteen (#ulink_dd03de9b-60a4-5b46-b786-cdcd07b69599)

The defeated, sinking feeling lasted no more than a few minutes. Pulling myself upright, I lifted my chin and looked DI Smith in the eye. Fight, Calum, my one-time hero had said. He might not be fighting in my corner any more, but that didn’t mean I had to give up.

‘I’ve always prided myself on being a good judge of character,’ I said stubbornly. ‘Whatever happened to me during that parachute jump, I don’t think either Matt or Kevin had anything to do with it. If Kevin sneaked a surreptitious lesson before the rest of us went down, it was more likely that he didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Ingrid.’

‘Ingrid?

‘Ingrid Peters. We work … worked together. I think Kevin has … oh, for goodness sake had, a crush on her. In all likelihood he probably thought if he had already completed a jump he would be one step ahead of the rest of us.’

‘Do you think Kevin Wheeler had a fixation with Ingrid?’ Dr Patel was leafing through notes, which I assumed had been made by whichever officer had investigated the case six years ago. ‘It would have been a lot of trouble to go to, to book and complete a parachute jump only a week before the one scheduled by your office manager. Some people can become obsessed by a member of the opposite sex whom they deem unobtainable.’ She scrutinised me over the open file. ‘Did Matt Treguier indicate at any time that he had met – and in fact already trained – Kevin Wheeler prior to that day?’

I shook my head. ‘No. But he was probably being kind to Kevin and keeping his secret.’ I recalled Matt distancing himself from the flirtatious Ingrid. ‘Perhaps he didn’t want to tread on Kevin’s toes romantically speaking. I’m no psychologist, but I think Kevin is completely harmless.’

‘As you say, you are not a psychologist.’ Dr Patel closed the file with a rustle of papers and a small thud. ‘But I think you are unduly trusting of people, which is not always a wise or safe option.’

I thought of how the wise or safe option didn’t always appeal. I’d taken quite a risk moving in with Calum and his traumatised daughter six months ago, despite my parents’ advice. I’d loved the sense of adventure with which I had embraced Calum’s hobby of body boarding, and the stubbornness with which I had pursued my aim to complete the charity jump, despite Calum’s pleadings. Perhaps there was some daredevil streak in me which shunned the ‘safe option’ as Dr Patel put it. I wanted comfort and security, but that security had to be tempered with a bit of mild adventure or I’d go mad.

I decided I’d had enough of the doctor’s probing and began to lever myself out of the pillow-like sofa. ‘Am I free to go now?’

Dr Patel shook her head. ‘I would like to perform a series of psychological tests on you. It will help us to understand your state of mind and give us more of an insight as to whether you are suppressing certain memories.’

I hesitated. I didn’t much like the idea of the tests, but if they helped in any way to find out where the last six and a half years of my life might have gone, they had to be worth a try. I nodded reluctantly and DI Smith took her leave as I followed Dr Patel into a small office and seated myself at a desk while she opened a second file. She held up the first of a sheaf of papers printed with abstract drawings.

She took a deep breath as I made myself as comfortable as possible on the upright chair. ‘What do you see when you look at this, Michaela?’

Two hours later I leaned back in the hard chair and rubbed my eyes. My mind was swimming with images, all of which had been completely open to interpretation. By the end of the session I had realised that nothing Dr Patel had shown me could possibly help me in any way.

‘Am I free to leave?’ I asked as the doctor finished scribbling her findings.

‘We would rather wait until the lab test results have come through.’ She glanced up at me. ‘Do you have anywhere to go?’

I mulled over my options once more. The only things I’d taken to the airfield were the car I’d been driving, my fleece and my handbag, everything else had been in Calum’s house in Leatherhead. At present I had no money, no clothes, no identification – and nowhere to go.

‘What happened to the things I left at the airfield, my jeep for example?’

She frowned and pushed a strand of silky, black hair from her face. ‘They would have been impounded as evidence. As the case was officially left open, they are probably still in police possession.’

‘Can I have them back?’

‘I doubt they will be released to you until the case is closed.’

‘But no crime has been committed! I’m here and I’m unharmed. What case is there?’

‘You may be physically unharmed …’

‘Have you finished with my T-shirt and jeans at least?’ I cut her short. All I wanted was to get out of there and have my life back.

‘I will see what I can do.’

‘Could I make a phone call? I need to speak to Calum and find out if he still has all my other things.’

Dr Patel nodded. ‘You may use the telephone here while I go and locate your clothing.’ She got up and headed for the door before pausing and glancing back. ‘I am on your side you know, Michaela. I know you think all this is a waste of time, but something has happened to you whether you want to accept it or not and it is our job to find out exactly what that something is.’