Chapter Twenty – All Our Lies

Gemma Harrison felt a knot forming in her stomach as she gathered herself, working up the courage to walk into the nondescript police station.

A lieutenant who obviously recognized her walked up to her and nodded curtly. "Mrs. Harrison," he said politely. "Come this way."

She was lead through a long corridor and into an interrogation room and felt her mood plummet.

"Please wait here while I bring Captain Rodgers," he said.

She sighed wearily and took a moment to glance at her wristwatch. That's as much as she had time to do before the door opened to reveal the lead investigator and an unknown man dressed in an expensive suit.

"Mrs. Harrison," the police captain said. "May I present Agent Ross, Interpol."

The long and lean man in his forties gave her a friendly smile and reached out his hand for her to shake. "A pleasure Mrs. Harrison," he said.

The two men quickly sat down opposite Gemma, their faces serious.

"What is it?" she asked worriedly, not liking the looks she was given, unsure of what they meant. "You have found something, haven't you?"

"How much do you know, Mrs. Harrison?" Agent Ross asked simply.

"I know I've been living a lie," she said darkly. "Recently I've learned things that makes me doubt whether or not I'm a good judge of character."

"Please explain," the captain said.

"With all due respect," she began as she clasped her fingers at the table in front of her. "You already knew all this but you didn't tell me."

Ross and Rodgers shared a solemn look.

"You failed to mention that my husband was involved in illegal business in third world countries," she said in an accusatory tone of voice. "Maggie Whelan kindly told me so and showed me some documents and then felt the need to add that she and my husband had been lovers."

"Mrs. Harrison-" Ross began.

"No, I'm not finished," she interrupted coldly. "I was told that my husband died of a stroke but the truth is that he committed suicide. Maggie is convinced that he did so because he realized that with the documents in her possession she would be able to bring him down. He must have believed those documents to be real otherwise he would never have committed such an act of desperation."

"The papers that Miss Whelan brought to our attention has been carefully evaluated and I can confirm that they are real," Ross informed her.

Gemma chuckled ironically, shook her head and looked away for a moment. "I can't believe he actually signed those papers," she whispered. "It involved weapons, he handed weapons to villains just to get his hands on more money. Those were blood money."

"His death has been investigated," Captain Rodgers admitted. "It is routine to look into every death that hasn't occurred naturally. Suspicions was brought to our attention by the coroner and the attending physician at the hospital. A man presenting himself as your family doctor and friend suggested he would break the news to you."

"I see," Gemma said gloomily. "Then there is one more thing. It sounded so far-fetched the first time I heard it that it caused me to laugh at the absurdity of the statement. However, the more I think about it the more it makes sense."

The two men's expression never wavered but the faint twitch of Rodgers lips encouraged her to go on.

"Miss Whelan claimed the Buzzard failure was planned. That it was programmed to go after the Federation World Airlines' flight 28 heading for Paris," she said. "That it was an assassination attempt on her life that would have taken out all evidence of Harrison Industries' illegal business for good."

Ross pursed his lips and nodded at Rodgers who slowly got out of his chair and headed for the door. Ross then refocused on the woman before him and said; "There is someone you should meet."

The door opened a second later and a man clad in a green dress uniform walked in. He nodded curtly at her with a stern look on his face. "Mrs. Harrison, my name is Major Ford. It has been my duty to look into the Buzzard incident."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"It has been done without the knowledge of Harrison Industries," he added. "As a potential buyer of the lethal attack drone the military has been very thorough when reviewing the incident."

Gemma red between the lines and sighed wearily, she'd clearly underestimated her husband's ruthlessness. "So you mean to tell me that Miss Whelan's statement was not one of a deranged or injured woman," she guessed, dismayed at the revelation.

The Major nodded. "His associates stirred a hornet's nest within the French Airforce," he said cryptically and then seeing her confused look added; "You might recall that some of the passengers claimed the airliner was being shot at even after our boys had neutralized the drone. The FWA and the Airforce demented such an act but the truth was another matter."

Gemma suddenly felt sick, not sure she'd heard him correctly. "No," she whispered.

"Your husband had a wide network consisting of people on both sides of the law, Mrs. Harrison," the major said grimly. "However, some of them could be bought for the right amount of money or the right amount of persuasion."

She shuddered at his words.

He produced a large folder and threw it on the desk in front of her.

Gemma reached for it with a shaking hand.

"That is a report, spanning over two hundred pages. It consists of information from the NTSB, FAA, the airplane manufacturer, software experts, the police, Interpol and various institutions ranging from economical aspects to civil rights," he informed her politely. "It is a draft, the ongoing investigation will continue for several months to come but what's written in there is enough to begin processing against Harrison Industries and its associates. We have the company under surveillance."

Gemma nodded dourly and somewhat in shock at the report. "Thank you for telling me," she whispered. "I wish I could have stopped him somehow."

"You listen to me, Mrs. Harrison," the major said in a friendly manner. "Doctor Harrison chose what path to walk a long time ago. There would have been nothing you could have done to stop him."

"Forgive me Major but that's not reassuring," she said hollowly.

OOOOOO

Claude Bonn sighed wearily as he cast one last look over his shoulder at the empty passenger cabin of the Boeing 747. All was quiet, the passengers were long gone, and the only thing remaining was the trash that filled the bins to the brim. Despite the fact that he was exhausted and that his ears were still ringing from the sound of screaming children he was smiling. It had been his first international trip since the accident and he'd been quite nervous before takeoff. Now as it had been completed all that was left was a jovial weariness and a desire for a beer to celebrate.

He'd come a long way since the accident in the process of understanding it and understand his reactions to it but there was till times when it haunted him at nights. He took a deep breath and exited the aircraft, his soles echoing as he walked down the narrow corridor toward the tarmac of Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. He nodded politely at the security guard posted at the gate and halted in mid-step as stewardess Mary Clark walked up to him and gave him a friendly hug.

"Mary," he whispered happily albeit a little surprised.

"I've missed you Claude," she said with a dazzling smile.

He chuckled in amusement at her statement. She missed everyone and she worried about everyone. It was like she was the mother of all the cabin crew personnel at the company. He didn't mind, he actually appreciated her very much and loved her warm and easygoing persona. The fact that she'd been onboard the Concorde seemed to have tightened their bond to each other.

"So, no thoughts about retiring from the service?" he teased lightly.

"Cheeky bugger," she exclaimed as she gently slapped his shoulder. "I'm only forty-nine. At my age I'm at peak efficiency."

"I've missed you too, Mary," he said. "What plane where you on?"

"AirJets," she said cryptically. "I called in a favor and ended up in the first class cabin – as a passenger of course."

"So, did you pick up something on your little tour that we should copy?" he asked curiously.

"Claude," she complained lightly, "You think I spied on their job routines?"

He shrugged.

"Actually-" she began.

"I thought so," he interrupted with a hearty laugh. "Now, how did you get that favor? There are rumors you're seeing someone in a very, should I say, forwarded position-"

"Oh, get over it already," she cut off cheekily. "Now, go and get some sleep. I came to tell you that there'll be a party early in the morning."

He frowned. "In the morning?" he asked in disbelief.

Mary nodded and chuckled. "Captain Patroni is back in town."

OOOOOO

Exhausted by the day Gemma longed for her bed, to drape the duvet over her head and be left alone in her misery. She threw the car keys on the bench inside the door and slowly walked the staircase to the next floor. She draped her clothes over a chair and walked into the bathroom to take quick and hot shower when the phone shrilled. With a sigh she walked out in the hallway to pick it up.

"Yes?" she said wearily as she rubbed her tired eyes.

"There's a call for you, Mrs. Harrison, he did not say his name. Would you like to take it?" the operator asked.

"Put it through," she answered.

"Gemma," an all too familiar voice said over the line.

"Willie," she acknowledged.

"I'll help you," he said.

OOOOOO