‘Ah well, we can’t expect miracles. Good work, Inspector.’ He turned to go. ‘By the way, I hear you’ve just become a father. You married Judge Lionel Franklin’s niece didn’t you?’
‘Yes, sir, on both counts.’ For some reason Alex went on the defensive, not wanting to be questioned further. To his relief, Rankin just smiled and walked off towards Sir John’s office.
The encounter left Alex feeling uneasy but he could discern no reason for this. He shrugged and carried on back to his office to break the news to Dougie that, despite what Rankin had just said, they were being asked to come up with one of those miracles.
CHAPTER 22
On the morning of the christening Catherine came downstairs to find that Peter had been washed, dressed in a clean nappy and Alex was sitting in the kitchen giving him a feed.
‘Why didn’t you wake me?’
She bent and planted a kiss on her husband’s cheek, and then one for her son, who ignored her, more intent on the contents of the bottle.
‘It’s no problem. I thought I’d let you sleep in. Have your breakfast in peace for once.’
It was then that Catherine saw the parcels on the table: one big, one small. She looked over at Alex.
‘What are these?’
‘Well, if you open them, you’ll find out. One’s from me and one’s from Peter.’
Catherine sat down and began to open the smaller parcel. Inside was a box she thought she recognised. As soon as she opened it and saw the little velvet bag, she knew! Inside the bag, wrapped in tissue paper, were the emerald earrings to match her ring. They glittered in her hand until her vision was blurred by the gathering tears.
‘Oh, Alex, they’re beautiful, but you shouldn’t have bought them. I’m costing you a fortune.’
He smiled at her. ‘As far as Peter and I are concerned, you’re worth every penny.’
She came over to him and this time found his lips with her own. ‘Thank you my darling. I love you both so very much.’
‘Open the other one, then.’ Alex hoisted his son on to his shoulder and patted his back, displaying his pride at this new skill, much to Catherine’s amusement.
Unwrapping the larger parcel she found more tissue paper. This time it contained what appeared to be a dress. It was pale cream jersey with a soft draped neckline.
‘I thought you might like something special to wear on a special day. I’m assured it will fit you. I hope to God it does!’
Catherine held it up against herself. ‘It looks as if it will. Oh, Alex, it’s beautiful. You’ve spoilt me.’
‘Why not? Now, have your breakfast while this urchin is quiet. What time are we meeting everyone?’
Catherine started to munch on her cereal.
‘Luigi and Maria said they would be here at about ten o’clock. Sarah and Jerry said they would come about the same time.’
When Alex had asked Luigi to act as a godfather, Luigi had protested that he was too old. Alex then explained to him that with Sarah as godmother, Peter would have youth, but with Luigi he wouldn’t have age, he would have experience. As he said to Luigi, from Sarah he would have love that would allow him to do no wrong in her eyes, but from Luigi he would have a person who wouldn’t be quite so accommodating! Luigi saw the logic in this and agreed, a proud smile on his face, which was still there when, later that morning, he and Maria arrived.
Dougie and his wife Janet were joining them at the Church, as were Grace and Arthur. Alex had felt uncomfortable about not discussing with Catherine the inclusion of her uncle, but she hadn’t mentioned it, and he was ashamed of his relief at the fact.
Sarah sat on the bed with Peter, now smart in a yellow suit with blue animal motifs, watching while Catherine finished dressing. She was amazed at her friend’s rapid recovery and display of confidence with her new baby. All testament, she felt sure, to the security Catherine had found in her marriage.
‘I’ve something to tell you, petal, but it’s to be between us at the moment.’
Catherine turned around from the mirror.
Sarah smiled. ‘I think I’m pregnant!’
‘Oh Sarah, how wonderful! Are you sure?’
‘No, I’m not. I haven’t had a test, but something’s going on. I’ll try to see a doctor next week.’
‘Does Jerry know? Or even guess?’
Sarah laughed now. ‘What do you think? Alex didn’t work it out either, did he?’
Catherine stood and hugged her friend. ‘I’m so pleased for you. Let me know as soon as you’re sure, but I promise I won’t say anything until you tell me.’
‘I’ll take the star of the show downstairs now, shall I, and leave you to finish.’
Catherine picked up her new dress and slid into the soft folds. Its fit was perfect. The casual drapes at the front hid any slight bump she still had. She put on her new earrings and their soft glow was reflected in her eyes. Could she be any happier? she thought. The love of a wonderful husband, and now a beautiful son. She had a lot to be thankful for. It could all have been so different… But she made herself put those thoughts aside. With one final look in the mirror, she picked up her bag and left the room.
Alex stood in the hallway with Peter in his arms. He looked up as Catherine came down the stairs. She was blossoming into a beautiful woman, he thought. Motherhood had lent an extra maturity to her features. The dress looked magnificent and, as far as he was concerned, although he admitted to being biased, fitted her body to perfection. The simple addition of her new earrings was all the extra adornment she needed. Once again he marvelled at the effect the sight of her had on his senses, and he longed more than ever to regain their shared magic. Soon now, please let it be soon!
‘You look wonderful, my dear. I’m a very proud man today. A beautiful wife and a magnificent son. Now, if you’re ready, let’s join our friends shall we?’
*
The church was crowded as the christening party slipped in at the back, close to the font. After completion of the christening formalities, at Alex’s insistence his son was handed to Sarah, much to Catherine’s surprise, even more so when Reverend Jones turned his attention to her.
‘Catherine, your husband has asked your friends and the congregation here today to join with you both in a blessing of your marriage. If you would care to follow me…?’
Catherine looked in astonishment at her husband, who put his arm round her waist, and drew her down to the front of the church. Alex had even kept the surprise from his friends, who were just as startled as Catherine.
Luigi, now holding his godson, looked at the couple standing in front of the Vicar. The two young people hadn’t taken their eyes off each other, and their hands were entwined. He felt moved by their display of total love, and he sent up his own prayer that this would stay with them all their lives.
*
An old Mercedes saloon was parked in the road opposite the church. Harry Fowler had been observing the comings and goings with some amusement. All this fuss over a baby!
Clarke’s watchers had been passing on information collected over the last few weeks about the movements of the Hartman family, and he’d been asked to familiarise himself with the vicinity. This Hartman person must be causing Clarke’s associates some grief. He was definite now that this was the same person involved with that little prostitute and Fenton’s gym. There must be more to it, with the amount of interest being shown, but even if not, he was police – and Fowler liked the chance of having a go at them!
*
On a fine, mild March morning a couple of weeks later, Catherine was attempting to catch up on her course work, which was now way behind. Through the French windows she could see Peter outside, fast asleep in his pram. She had just spent some time on the telephone with an excited Sarah, who confirmed her good news. It would be superb, they said: their children would be able to grow up toge
ther. Promising to meet soon, Sarah laughed and suggested that Catherine should bring with her a long list of tips and recommendations.
Trying to refocus her mind, it was with annoyance she heard the front door bell ring. Opening the door she found her uncle standing there.
‘Good morning, my dear. I hope I’m not intruding.’
Catherine felt the blood draining from her face, and for a moment, thought she might even faint. She put out a shaking hand to steady herself against the open door. What should she do? She was mindful of her promise to Alex not to be alone with her uncle. She hadn’t been aware that her uncle even knew where they lived. He knew about Peter, because Alex had agreed she should to write to him with the news, but on his instructions she hadn’t disclosed their address.
However, she felt obliged to show good manners and invited him in, trying to disguise her reluctance. He looked around with apparent great interest as she took him through to the living room, apologising that she needed to keep an eye on Peter in the garden.
‘You seem to have a nice house, Catherine.’
Without invitation, he seated himself at the table, but declined her offer of a coffee. ‘I am not able to stay long. I have a taxi waiting outside for me.’
He put a parcel on the table. ‘I know that things have not always been right between us of late, but I acknowledge that you are now married, with a son, and that this is your choice. I have brought you something which used to belong to your father. I thought it might please you to have it.’
When Catherine unwrapped the parcel she found inside a small, but heavy, bronze statute of a soldier of the Crimean War.
‘It has some value, I believe. A house warming present, perhaps?’
Catherine stammered her thanks. Her uncle was being very pleasant. Perhaps he was now regretting some of his past actions. Her generous heart warmed to him.
‘Would you care to see Peter? I can fetch him.’
‘That would be nice, my dear. I think this statue would look well on your hall table. Perhaps whilst you are outside…?’
‘Oh, er… yes. That’s fine.’
Her uncle was again sitting at the table when she returned, after a slight delay, while she made sure that Peter was presentable. He was duly admired, but for some reason she sensed that, his duty now performed, her uncle was keen to leave.
With Peter in her arms she followed him to the front door. She saw the statue on the table.
‘Thank you for the gift, Uncle. Perhaps we will see you again?’
He turned and smiled at her. ‘Perhaps.’
*
Sitting in the taxi Lionel Franklin’s face wore an unusual, boyish grin. It had all worked better than maybe he had hoped. What a good thing the child was outside, as this gave him ample time to perform the task as instructed. He removed his gloves and placed the small metal box in his coat pocket. He had seen the handbag on the hall table and found what he wanted with no trouble. Now he could move his plan forward. Everything was in place.
Was there just a moment of regret? No, none.
*
Catherine moved back into the lounge, with Peter still in her arms. What a strange occurrence. Was Uncle Lionel reaching out for contact in some way, now that he was alone? She knew that Alex was wary of her uncle, and at times she felt it was more than that. Why, she didn’t know. Something else he hadn’t told her. Now, happy in her marriage, she had long ago forgiven her uncle for his views on her future. Perhaps there was a chance for attitudes to change. She sat with Peter in the leather armchair.
‘We might be able to be a real family, Peter. You could have a Great Uncle. We’ll have to tell your Daddy tonight, but I’m not sure how he’ll take it.’
With a small sigh, she stood and placed her son back in his pram, and returned to her work.
Catherine waited until after the evening meal before she told Alex of her visitor. She knew she had to be honest with him.
‘How on earth did he know where we lived?’
‘I’ve been thinking about that all day, Alex, and I can’t imagine.’
Alex went into the hall and looked at the bronze figure. ‘I suppose it’s nice for you to have something of your parents. I wonder if it does have any value?’
‘I’m not bothered if it doesn’t, it was just a nice thought.’
Alex looked at his wife. He knew her well enough by now. She would always think the best of people, until proven otherwise. This gesture had redeemed her uncle in her eyes, but he wasn’t so sure. What was the man up to now? His intuition told him that something was wrong… but what? Within a few days his report would be finalised, presented to higher authority, and with any luck, acted upon. What would she think then? He was back to his old dilemma.
During the rest of the evening Alex tried to ignore it, but the problem was worrying him again. He felt Catherine’s eyes on him, but didn’t know what to say to her. Later, in bed, he watched her sleeping as he had so often. What would he do without her? He felt too restless to sleep and put on his robe and went downstairs. After a moment or two he took a notepad from his desk, sat down at the dining table and began to write.
He folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope and sealed it. The first he knew of her presence was when he smelt her perfume. She was watching him from the doorway, the folds of her long pink gown held around her.
‘Alex?’
‘It’s alright, my love. Go back to bed.’
She came towards him and slipped herself onto his lap. He sighed and folded his arms around her.
‘What’s wrong, Alex? I know something’s bothering you. I think it’s to do with my uncle, isn’t it.’
There it was, he thought, the opening he needed. But he was too afraid to follow it up.
He felt her lips on his neck. ‘Alex, we love each other. Whatever difficulties there are, with family, or anything else, they can be overcome. I know certain steps in life have to be taken even if they’re painful to others.’
God in Heaven, had she guessed already, and was she telling him it would be alright? His heart leapt with hope.
She was looking up at him. ‘Do you remember that awful night when we had that terrible argument? You said you just wanted me to be happy, even if it meant you were not. That’s what I mean about love. I want you and I to be happy together, even if we have problems that might hurt. We love each other. We both love Peter.’
She stirred in his arms. ‘Come to bed, my love. I need you there with me.’ She appeared to hesitate. ‘Alex, I’d like you to make love to me. Please.’
He looked down at her with alarm. ‘Catherine, I’m not sure. I don’t want to hurt you. I know the doctor said everything was fine, but I wanted you to see Newman as well.’
She kissed his mouth, the folds of her silky gown slipping apart. ‘There’s one way to find out, my darling.’ She made a face at him. ‘Do I have to beg?’
‘There’s no way you have to beg for my love, my sweet.’ He picked her up in his arms and carried her upstairs.
With great sensitivity, gentleness and care he reignited the old fires, and to the delight of them both they found their feelings overcame any reservations and the result was all they had hoped for. The dawn light was filtering through the bedroom curtains before they slept, wrapped in each other’s arms.
CHAPTER 23
Copying more of his file information late on Friday night, Alex was faced with the problem of what to do with it. Was he just paranoid about the whole thing, and no one would come snooping at all? He didn’t want to take the chance. The papers needed to be taken out of the office and stored somewhere for safe keeping. His gaze rested on an empty stationery box standing in the corner of the room. This would be ideal.
Excusing himself to Catherine the next day by saying he had some errands to do, he drove to his office. He put all the papers into the b
ox, sealed it with tape, and took it with him when he left the building. He put it in his car, and on the drive home came to the decision that first thing on Monday morning he would place it in the care of Simon Kingsley, to be held to his instructions; also the letter, at the moment hidden in his father’s desk.
*
Kingsley, with reluctance, agreed to keep the box. He was unhappy about not knowing the contents, but in the end took Alex’s word on the matter. Alex left with him instructions as to what should happen to both the box and the letter if he was ever not in a position to collect them himself.
When Alex had left the office, Kingsley thought about it, and asked his secretary to make a note that both the box and sealed envelope were to be held to his own strict order, together with any files opened by his firm relating to the affairs of Alex and Catherine Hartman. Nothing was to be destroyed without his personal knowledge. He was still having trouble obtaining information about the trust fund, and decided he would have to keep a close eye on matters that concerned them.
*
The next, and with any luck final meeting with Sir John was set for Tuesday morning. Alex was tempted to take Dougie along, but thought better of it. He had managed, so far, to keep up the pretence that his colleague wasn’t aware of the whole picture, and it might as well continue. He would make sure, however, that he pointed out how invaluable Dougie’s help had been throughout. Dougie always maintained that he wasn’t interested in any further promotion, but that didn’t mean that Alex could not gain him some rightful appreciation of his services.
On the whole, he was now happy with the report. Some links still seemed tenuous at best, but he felt they were worth mentioning. In contrast, however, their enquiries into various subversive acts over a period of time had shown definite links to earlier court actions. Ripe pickings if you were looking for ways to manipulate vulnerable people. The Scottish exercise had also thrown up coincidences of related association. This morning they had received copies of Last Finance’s accounts. They would need to be looked at in more detail, but it appeared that payments had been made on several occasions, even before the one to Kerry.
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