“How did your husband feel about that?”
“He put up with her, that’s all. As I did. I learned to take Eva’s slings and arrows and lob them back with an ace.”
“Were you and your husband on good terms?”
“Of course. I can’t believe he’s gone. I don’t understand this, I don’t.” She burst into wrenching sobs.
Chloe leaned across and pulled her sister into her arms. “My sister is clearly distraught. Can we leave this now?”
“On that topic, yes. But I do have some questions for you. What was your relationship with your brother-in-law?”
She stared for a moment as if weighing how to reply. Honesty must have won as her shoulders straightened and her chin jutted out. “Jess is thirteen years older than me, and I was sixteen when she married Kurt. Our parents are dead, so I came to live here. Kurt was great, really welcoming, and all was fine as long as I did as he said.”
“He was a bully?”
“Not exactly, but he was a powerful man and didn’t like to be crossed. Look at Rudy and Nils. They loved their dad, yet he controlled their lives through money. If they annoyed him, and that could mean they had their own opinion, he’d threaten to disinherit them.”
“What did Kurt do to you?”
“To me? Not much. Kurt treated me well. To be fair, he was kinder to me than his own sons. To those I care about or class as friends, he could be an utter bastard.”
Jessica had quietened and turned to her sister. “Don’t go there.”
“It will all come out eventually, so it may as well come from us.”
Chloe turned back to Le Claire. “Kurt wouldn’t let Jessica breathe without his permission. She was as much his possession as that bloody art collection. How she dressed, did her hair, who she spoke to and befriended—it was all down to Kurt.”
“It wasn’t as bad as you paint.”
“It was worse. You wanted a child.”
Jessica sat up straight, pale. “Chloe, no more. That is immaterial. It’s in the past.”
Chloe rounded on her. “No, it demonstrates exactly what he was like.” She faced Le Claire, her eyes fired with fury. “When they got married, Jess was full of how they’d try for a kid straightaway. Kurt was all for it. A couple of years went past, and nothing happened. She got checked out, and there was nothing wrong with her. She asked Kurt to go and get checked out, and that’s when he told her that he’d had a vasectomy before they met, but—and this is laughable—he hadn’t wanted to tell her in case she didn’t want to marry him. Said he loved her so much he was blinded. Blah, blah, blah.” The last ended on a bitter snap.
“I should never have told you,” Jessica said. “I didn’t tell anyone for years, but things got worse, and I needed to offload.”
Le Claire considered her words. “In what way did things get worse?”
“Look, my marriage wasn’t perfect, but Kurt was distant this last year and was away on business a lot. The trips to London were more frequent.”
There was an edge to her tone that caught his attention. “Did you believe your husband was seeing someone?”
“I don’t know. Kurt changed, and so did our relationship. He had form, after all. He left Eva for me. I can trot out as many explanations as you like. That they had grown apart, that they’d only stayed together until the boys were grown, but the truth is he left his wife for me.”
Le Claire couldn’t help the unbidden thought—marry the mistress, create a vacancy.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The sullen expression left Riley’s face, but Susan knew he was still mad at her. “We have gone over this a hundred times before. Kurt has only ever been my boss.”
“I don’t believe you, Mum. I want to, but I don’t. I can’t stop thinking about it. Maybe it all weirdly makes sense. All those big bonuses, the free trips.”
“Don’t be a fool. I worked damn hard for that money. I got the bonuses because I made Kurt even more money. As for the trips, yes, they were a gift, but I went with you. It’s not like I was sloping away with him.”
Riley threw himself into the armchair. “But I don’t understand it. Why would he leave you that land? It’s worth a lot of money. And its importance to the island is huge.”
“I know you better than anyone. You can run around fooling as many people as you like that all you’re interested in is the right-of-way for that land, but I know what you were up to.”
He was still, his gaze unblinking. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“I didn’t say anything to you because I was hoping Kurt would win the appeal and your interference would be for nothing. I know about the development Kurt was planning. I saw the papers in his study. I also saw the report saying the value of the land was depressed, and the development couldn’t take place unless the right-of-way was rescinded. I met the developer today. It could be big money. You’ve been at odds with Kurt these last few years. Did you get involved with the land dispute purely because it was about Kurt’s land? Because you wanted to piss him off? Did you use the right-of-way as a way of getting back at him?”
He threw his hands up and shook his head. “What for?”
“You grew up and saw Kurt for the man he truly was, flaws and all. And that tarnished something in you, I know. He was a father figure to you, and he ruined it. Tell me truthfully that you had nothing to do with Kurt’s death.”
“What do you take me for? Of course, I didn’t have anything to do with him dying.”
“And what about the land? Am I right?”
“You may be, but it doesn’t matter now. Kurt is dead. You own the land. Sounds like you’ll be rich, Mum.”
An icy hand of fear clutched at her throat, chilling her nerves. Riley had once been close to Kurt, admired him and perhaps wanted to grow up to be like him. But Riley got older and became a man whose beliefs were diametrically opposed to Kurt’s. Had it turned to hatred? She brushed the thought aside. He was her son; she couldn’t think that way. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with the land. I may sell it.” She stood and leaned over him. “I may give it back to its rightful owners. That would be either of the boys. What do you think of that?”
“You can’t do that. Rudy and Nils don’t deserve it, and Kurt wanted you to have it. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I do know that land wasn’t meant for me. I’ve got something to do. I’ll catch up with you later.”
◆◆◆
Susan had a photographic memory, or at least that’s what she supposed it was. All she knew was that she only had to see a document or a set of numbers once, and, by concentrating hard enough, she could recall them exactly.
That was working in her favour right now. Kurt had had the office re-kitted out a few months back. She’d seen more than she needed to at the time and recalled it all. She dumped her bag and coat on her desk and headed through the closed door towards Kurt’s private office.
She didn’t hesitate. There wasn’t long. She assumed the family would look to empty the office soon, at least of its valuables. They wouldn’t have the access codes to any of the private stuff. Kurt never shared those with anyone. The family would need to bring in someone who could effectively break into the safes and locked drawers. She did have the keys to the drawers, and she’d be checking those as well.
She stood in the middle of the room and carefully, slowly spun around, her eyes scanning the ceiling, the walls and in each corner and crevice. One wall was shelved from floor to ceiling. She pulled a chair across and carefully stepped onto it, bracing her arms against the shelving as she hoisted herself to standing. She’d seen the bill from the tech company. She knew there was a security camera in this room somewhere. She glanced over her shoulder at the facing wall, noting the height and position of the painting, a particularly expensive one. She would bet anything she owned that the camera would point directly at it.
She concentrated her search on the third shelf from the top. The array of, frankly, tac
ky memorabilia that was prominently displayed seemed at odds with the Kurt most people knew, but she understood the significance of every piece. Her knuckles grazed a plastic frame that contained a faded Polaroid of two young men. Kurt and his brother. She lingered on their faces for a moment. Both gone long before their time. She brushed the memories away and smiled at the next objects, a row of clumsily hand-painted plastic cartoon characters. The boys had done these when they were small and gifted them to their father. Kurt didn’t appear to be a sentimental man, yet he’d not only kept these pieces from his sons and Riley but displayed them here in his private study.
A wooden box sat centre stage. She opened the lid and took out the pictures it contained. Jessica would have gone crazy had she known that Kurt kept some pictures of Eva. Admittedly, the boys were also in the photos, but it was obviously a reminder of the times when his first family had been intact. The boys were around three and four. Perhaps he’d even been faithful to his marriage vows at that time. She quickly moved past an unbidden memory and considered the last few objects. A framed incorporation certificate of the first fund he ever launched, a small plastic medal and tin sporting cup from his first marathon and a picture of Susan herself. That was the day they had closed the first big fund. She was on the central administration floor of their Mayfair offices, flanked by Kurt and his brother, Jan. A lifetime ago. She pulled back and considered all the objects, lifting them, peering to see if one could conceal a camera.
As she discarded object after object, her eyes were drawn to the wooden box. She peered inside. The interior seemed smaller than the exterior. She grabbed the box and jumped to the floor. She tapped the wood. The base and sides sounded hollow. She quickly ran back to her own office. There were some Fund Institute awards ranged against a console table. She picked up one that looked like a model skyscraper. She went back to Kurt’s office and, using all her force, smashed it against the base of the box. Again and again. The wood splintered with a loud crack, exposing a jumble of coloured wires. She pulled at them; whatever they were attached to was stuck, but a purposeful yank sorted that out. The camera was tiny but unmistakable. It looked to be Wi-Fi connected. She guessed the signal would be sent to the same location as the other cameras. Only Kurt had access. She assumed his family wouldn’t even know where to look.
It was now or never. She was sure that Jessica would soon be dispensing with her services. She moved towards the painting on the back wall and pressed the small catch under the righthand side of the frame. They had laughed at the time. Kurt had been cockily confident that no one would ever think of the old trick of hiding a safe behind a painting. But that’s precisely what was there. The catch released the mechanism, and the picture swung away from the wall. Susan closed her eyes for a moment, and an image seen long ago flashed behind her eyes. Kurt pressing the keypad, quickly. She could visualise his fingers rapidly pressing the numbers 9483-7-255. She held her breath and punched in the numbers. A shaky exhale escaped at the loud metallic click of the door catch releasing. A mound of papers and bulging folders lay haphazardly along the bottom of the safe. She grabbed the pile and spread it out on the desk. She flipped through some envelopes, quickly checking the handwriting on the front and peeking inside to see what was there. Her heart was starting to pound as she discarded letter after letter. Had he been lying to her all this time? Perhaps he hadn’t kept it after all.
She discarded the last envelope. It wasn’t what she was after. She started on the piles of loose papers. Surprisingly they were contracts. Why would they be here? Kurt had an admin assistant who dealt with all that stuff and an entire team handled business matters.
A fancy letterhead contract caught her eye. She read through it in growing surprise. And reread it for good measure. There were other similar letters, all following the same pattern. They were agreements of some kind. Her mind whirred. The wording was odd. She fumbled in her bag for her phone and dialled. She started speaking as soon as it was answered. “I need to talk to you. I’ve found something.”
“What are you talking about? Can it wait? I’m in the middle of something.” The voice was impatient.
“In Kurt’s safe. I found several documents that seem strange. I don’t understand what it means. I thought you might.”
“This stuff was in his safe?”
“Yes, it looks like legal agreements.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know what that was about unless I had a look, but does it matter? I’m sure there will be plenty of time to sort everything out properly.”
“You’re right, of course you are. Look, I need to go. Talk later.”
“Why don’t you keep those papers on your desk, and I can pop in and have a look at them tomorrow.”
“Sure. Bye.”
She hung up. The agreements had been a distraction. She had more pressing concerns, and she couldn’t forget it. If someone, God forbid it was Jessica, found the letter, her life would be hell. She had to keep looking. The truth coming out wasn’t an option. Why had she been so bloody stupid as to put anything in writing? That letter had kept her working for Kurt for more years than she should have.
She had to think like Kurt. What would he do? She looked back at the safe. It had a metal bottom, but she noticed that it was a lighter shade of grey than the sides. A large screw was in each of the four corners. She grabbed her bag and pulled out the multi-tool Riley had bought her for Christmas. It was pink. She’d often wondered if she’d ever use anything in it other than the nail file.
Using the screwdriver, she carefully loosened the floor of the safe and eased it up. She’d been right. There was a false bottom. Inside was one single envelope. Just the one. She recognised it immediately. It was her writing on the front. She quickly grabbed it, pausing one small moment before taking the letter out and unfolding the heavy paper. She couldn’t help herself. Her eyes scanned the letter, reading the words of her much younger self. She stopped, steadied herself. The words were clear, to the point, but with a pleading tone. She’d been a fool and a stupid little slut. But she’d come to her senses and acted in the right way. It would have come to an end in any event, even if she hadn’t been the one to walk away. She’d had to. She squeezed her eyes tight to block any images from the past. A tension she hadn’t known she’d been carrying left her, floating away, dissolving forever. No one could harm her or Riley now. She would get everything put back neatly and then get out of there. But the letter was going with her. She’d destroy it. But not there.
She looked inside the safe and readied herself to replace the false bottom, then stopped as she realised that what she’d assumed was the base was some form of plastic polymer. She flicked up one edge and pulled it free. It was a zippered file wallet. She opened it up and withdrew a sheaf of papers, quickly flicking through them. “Holy shit!” Oh, this was dynamite. Payback was going to be so sweet.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Le Claire sipped his strong black coffee while he mulled matters over in his head. He looked at Dewar. “We have to consider all the angles. Perhaps Kurt Englebrook was having an affair, but if so, who with?”
“He was wealthy, handsome and sophisticated. I am sure there would have been plenty of takers. With a fortune like that, he could have bought all types of company.” Dewar’s voice was a bit sarcastic for his liking.
“You make affairs of the heart sound decidedly utilitarian. Of course, he was a married man.”
Dewar’s voice was a mumble, but he could still make out her words. “That didn’t stop him the first time around.”
“Indeed, the first marriage broke up due to his affair. However, he did leave that huge house to the ex-wife and, of course, the art collection. Stranger things have happened than for a divorced couple to reconnect.” Or a couple on the brink of divorce as he knew all too well.
“Shame he didn’t leave her some cash as well. She doesn’t appear to have the money to maintain either. You need a barrel of money to look after those types of assets, I guess.”
“Eva said she doesn’t know whether to sell or not. Nils agrees to a potential sale, and Rudy is adamant that there should be no sale.”
Dewar said, “At the end of the day, it’s down to the mother. It’s Eva that owns the assets.”
“Yes, but if she can’t afford to look after them, she may have no choice. Kurt must’ve still felt something for her. Eva, I mean. He was bound under the divorce agreement to leave her the art collection, but not that huge house as well. She does have two exceptionally wealthy sons now. Perhaps they’ll help. Then there’s the land.”
Dewar said, “That seems strange; that he would split up the estate and pass it out of the family to Susan Jones.”
“She was obviously well-trusted, and they had known each other for a long time, but she was an employee. There’s more to that than meets the eye.”
Dewar quirked her head to one side. “Perhaps he was having an affair with Susan Jones?”
“She’s an attractive woman; they worked closely together and would have spent time alone in each other’s company. Who knows? However, let’s not speculate. People could say that about us. We work together, and I probably spend more time with you than Sasha.”
Dewar coloured, and he realised he’d spoken without thinking. He’d been trying to get across that they mustn’t make loose judgments on a topic that could be patently ridiculous. He realised he may have been unforgivably rude.
At that, Dewar burst out in fits of laughter. “Oh, that’s a good one. Yeah, you’re right, we can’t make assumptions. It’s probably a ridiculous notion.”
Oh well, at least he hadn’t upset her.
◆◆◆
Dewar’s insides were doing gymnastics as she walked into the restaurant. Viera had suggested they meet after work. She’d finished her shift and changed into jeans and a pretty top.
Blood Rights Page 11
