11
Cahill stood and stretched.
‘Is that it?’ Logan asked.
‘It’s as much as she can tell us, and she shouldn’t even have said that. We can’t push it with her any further.’
‘So what are you going to do now?’
‘I’m going to make a very difficult phone call to Melanie Stark to tell her that her husband is dead. I need to do it alone.’
Cahill left Logan and Hardy in the War Room and walked to his office at the south-west corner of the building. It was bigger than Logan’s office, but not ostentatious. He had a couch as well as a similar desk and shelving unit. His desk was covered with photographs of his wife and two girls.
He sat at the desk and lifted his phone. After a moment, he dialled Melanie Stark’s number. A man answered.
‘I’m looking for Melanie Stark,’ Cahill said.
‘This is her son. Can I help?’
Cahill thought: your mother will need your help shortly.
‘No, thanks. I need to speak to Melanie.’
‘What’s this about?’ He started to sound tense.
Cahill heard a woman’s voice in the background asking who was on the phone.
‘My name is Alex Cahill and I’m a friend of your dad. Your mom will want to speak to me, son.’
‘Hold on.’
The phone clattered down on a hard surface. Cahill pulled his own phone away from his ear at the noise. He couldn’t blame the boy for being upset – angry even. Cahill felt some of that himself.
‘Alex,’ Melanie Stark said, picking up the phone. ‘What have you heard?’
‘Does the name John Reece mean anything to you?’
Pause. ‘No. I mean, I don’t think so. I never heard it before.’
‘Never seen that name written down anywhere in the house?’
‘Alex, what’s this about? Does this man Reece have anything to do with what Tim’s caught up in?’
‘Sort of.’
‘Alex …’ She knew that he was stalling.
‘Melanie …’
Always the bad news is preceded by the name, spoken softly. Like it helps.
‘No …’
‘I can’t be totally certain, but the information I have makes me believe that Tim was on that flight out of Denver.’
No sound this time.
‘I’m so sorry, Melanie. I really am.’
He could hear the scream starting way down inside her, rising up from a place so deep inside that no person should ever have to know the pain it brought as it burst up and out. Cahill had heard it before. Too many times.
‘If it helps,’ Cahill said, ‘I can’t believe that Tim was involved in something illegal. That’s not the Tim I knew.’
He knew he’d said it already today, but what else was there to say?
‘Are … you … sure?’ She was barely able to get the word out between sobs.
‘As sure as I can be. He was on that plane when it went down.’
‘I can’t …’
The line disconnected.
Cahill stood and went to the window, looking down at the people passing by outside.
What were you doing on that plane, Tim?