Chapter 3

Thomas had automatically buckled himself back into his seat and flicked again through the channels on his inflight screen. He clicked it off almost immediately, he never watched much TV and he was in no mood to start. He turned his head to look towards the window, the bright light cutting lines across the panelling and sighed again.

He'd done his research back in his early days at the Lyell. During those days when the hostility towards him burning from Nikki's eyes could have incinerated a water soaked fireproof blanket. He'd asked around and discovered that Leo Dalton was almost universally adored by everyone he spoke to, cleaning staff, security, peers, the top brass. No one had a bad word about him. The man was dead and in tragic circumstances but that shouldn't have stopped people speaking freely. And so he began to believe that the man was as good and kind as everyone said he was. He cut Nikki some slack, ignored those haunted dark eyes that looked at him with such hostility.

He just got on with the job, detached and diligent. That he knew all about.

Jack and Clarissa had known Leo too, but not for as long. Clarissa had gone some way to explain Nikki's behaviour to him but there were more stories. Stories from long before when Nikki had got herself in trouble and someone else had moved heaven and earth to find her and to keep her safe.

Harry Cunningham.

The one who had left and taken a post in New York.

The one who was now filling his voicemail with messages.

Had it been that good a promotion? Had he seen the department cuts coming, fallen on his own sword so that Nikki and Leo could remain together? Had something happened between them?

If he was going to make a success of the Lyell Centre job, he realised he needed to find out; so he'd looked back over the old cases but the dry facts of the reports told him nothing of what he actually needed to know. It was still just Lyell Centre folklore, not facts. He knew what to do with facts; he liked facts. It was only when he discovered the hard copy of the 'accidents at work' book that his luck changed. Here were the facts, pages and pages of them. All he had to do was read a little between the lines and even Thomas Chamberlain's limited imagination could do that.

"N. Alexander knocked unconscious in the line of duty, circumstances currently unknown, head contusions and blood loss. First aid administered by H. Cunningham and ambulanced to hospital. Ongoing amnesia." "Lacerations to left hand, circumstances unclear. H Cunningham refused hospital treatment, first aid and suturing provided by N. Alexander." The list went on and on, contusions, concussions, exposure to cyanide, kidnapping, held at knife point, held at gunpoint. The name of the first responder invariably H Cunningham or N Alexander. What a pair. It was the first thing that had made him nervous about accepting the position. The risk assessments alone would be horrific.

But as he studied the accident log he noticed that the number of accidents recorded in the book suddenly tapered off. He checked against the employment records. The dates did coincide. As soon as Harry left, the accidents and incidents diminished markedly. There was still enough to keep it interesting, "N. Alexander, taken to hospital, unconscious, smoke inhalation. First aider J. Hodgson. He had been right to be nervous. Maybe he should have quit back then, he'd felt like it after Nikki's death stares hadn't let up for three months solid.

Would he have made more of an attempt to save his marriage if he hadn't been so preoccupied with the Lyell? It would have saved him the pain he was in now. Would it have been worth it? He would never know, but he wouldn't have changed his decision, even if he had known.

He'd been so preoccupied at the beginning it was only later that he realised that Harry Cunningham's name, was never been mentioned. It was only after Nikki had run into him again at a conference in Oxford a year or so after Thomas had started, that his name began to crop up here and there. He assumed something of their old comradeship had been rekindled. Maybe it was long enough after Leo's death for them to forget their differences and stand united in a grief that was ever present but no longer raw. Something had changed. Nothing else would explain the sudden rash of phone calls from Dr Cunningham on Leo's old line. She was barely off the plane when the first one had come through.

"Just checking, Nikki Alexander's in Mexico."

Thomas had assumed he was just trying to meet up somewhere. But then the next one came in, and the next, just after he'd put Jack on a plane to go get her back. Even he hadn't been able to disguise the anxiety in his voice. He'd felt himself shudder as he'd listened to Harry's message.

"Just to let you know, nothing good ever happens when she leaves the country…"

Thomas had checked then: South Africa, Zambia, Hungary, Afghanistan and now Mexico. How had he missed that? He prided himself on the thoroughness of his work.

Why hadn't someone told him before?

Why hadn't he known?


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