‘Yes. The Station Hotel.’
‘Good choice, not the most auspicious and imaginative of names, but the rooms and food are excellent. Why don’t I meet you there for a drink at about six-thirty and then you can have my undivided attention.’
‘Are you sure, what about …?’
‘This job doesn’t have set hours, Miss Brooks, and anyway I’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity to have a drink with, and I hope you don’t mind me saying so, a very pretty and charming young woman.’
‘Thank you, and if you’re sure ...’
‘I’m sure on both counts,’ he said, smiling broadly. ‘I’ll be in the bar at six-thirty.’
* * *
They sat opposite each other on a couple of sofas beside an unlit log fire.
Jeremy Jacobs was enjoying a refreshing pint of cold lager after a hard day, and the one high spot of the day, Gabrielle Brooks, had been persuaded to have a glass of red wine.
She intrigued him.
There was an all-pervading innocence about her but there also seemed to be an alertness that probably resulted in her having constantly to fend off people like him.
Jeremy Brooks had lived in Ashbourne all his life. He married Annabelle, a local girl. They had three children within three years who were now living with their mother, their stepfather Hilary, and Annabelle’s parents, not a stone’s throw from where Jeremy and Gabrielle were sitting now, in Church Street. He and Annabelle still saw each other quite often - they could not fail not to - and were always pleasant enough with each other, but a satisfactory explanation as to why they had parted was never settled. Jeremy still loved Annabelle in his own way. She and Hilary did not have any more children and Jeremy had to admit that Hilary was very good for them. All three, now twelve, thirteen and fourteen, were away at boarding school most of the time but Jeremy took time off when they were at home so he could spoil them. When he collected them and he saw Annabelle and Hilary together, he still inwardly objected to him sleeping with her but he didn’t object to another man bringing up the products of his relationship with Annabelle. He often thought his feelings were strange.
Jeremy had forgotten the number of short-term relationships he’d had in the six years since he and Annabelle split up, but nothing ever came of any of them. He wasn’t ready. All his flirtations were a means to an end and most of them gave him exactly what he’d needed.
He was seeing another Annabelle now - strange coincidence really - not as often as he would like because her husband’s absences were irregular and she never knew from one week to the next when he would be away. Jeremy had some very enjoyable lunchtimes with Annabelle II; she was an enthusiastic and adventurous thirty-year old he met via one of his clients. She’d visited him in his professional capacity in his office on a number of occasions and, suffice to say, Jeremy often looked at his desk and memories of Annabelle II raced back to him. It could be why he smiled all the time.
He was smiling now as he looked at Gabrielle Brooks.
Yes, she certainly intrigued him.
It was a pity she had come to see him about Adam. He had a feeling the conversation was going to be awfully serious, and difficult, and he wasn’t going to have the opportunity to find out a little more about her. However, he would bide his time. He was a free agent, he hadn’t eaten all day, and the restaurant in The Station Hotel was very good. The fact that his quarry had a room in the same hotel was a bonus.
‘So, you wanted to ask me something about Adam?’ Yes, she really is a pretty little thing, he thought. This evening could turn out to be one of the more entertaining I’ve had in a long time - apart from Annabelle II, that is.
‘To begin with, can I reassure you I’m not a reporter and I’m in no way connected with the media. What I’m going to tell you is in the strictest confidence and I hope you’ll accept what you might be willing to tell me will be treated in exactly the same way.’
The smile stayed on Jeremy’s face. ‘Of course! That was almost word for word what I find I say to a lot of my clients. If you don’t work for the media, may I ask again what you actually do?’
She seemed to hesitate. ‘I work in the Loch Lomond area of Scotland,’ she said. ‘My head office is in Edinburgh and its head office is international.’
‘And what do these head offices do?’
‘I suppose it could be described as tourism cum public relations combined with communicating the advantages of enjoying what is around us and what has been given to us as individuals.’
‘Sounds all-embracing and just a little intriguing. You do this communicating in the Loch Lomond area?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s a very educated Scottish accent you have.’
‘I’m not sure what you mean by that but what I do is actually not relevant. My dealings with Adam Harrison are purely personal and -’
‘That sounds intriguing too.’
Gabrielle gave him a funny look and he decided to slow down a bit.
‘You said you’ve known Adam for many years. Was that as his solicitor or were you friends as well?’
‘We were both. He came to instruct Jacobs and Wrights to act on his behalf for his initial house purchase in the area and stayed with us. Our friendship grew over the ensuing years. Lucinda and my wife - that’s when I was married - got on very well and my friendship with Adam sort of materialised out of theirs.’ Jeremy lowered his eyes. ‘She was such a gorgeous woman in every sense. The murders were the biggest outrage to ever hit Ashbourne.’
‘Was there never any explanation?’
‘If they had the slightest hint of an explanation they might have some idea of a culprit. Adam never really opened up to me afterwards. Actually he never really opened up to anybody. To a great extent he became a recluse. He was polite enough when we did meet but all my invitations to give him a chance to talk were spurned. I saw him the other day and that was the first time in ages. He called in to let me know that he was going away.’
‘Can you tell me about his wife and children?’
‘Only if you’ll let me get you another red wine.’ Jeremy picked up the empty glasses and stood up. ‘And only if you’ll agree to have dinner with me. I can book a table when I get the drinks.’ He looked down at Gabrielle with raised eyebrows.
‘I don’t normally drink but one more won’t do me any harm, and as far as dinner is concerned, yes, that would be nice. Better than eating on my own.’
‘Right, then,’ he said before heading for the bar, ‘drinks and a table for two.’
Gabrielle smiled as she watched him saunter over to the bar. She was determined not to hide behind her clerical collar; she was here in a purely personal capacity and it would be unethical to use the church for personal gain. But she wondered how he would have reacted if she’d walked into his office wearing her collar, or if she had put it on when getting ready to meet him for a drink. He would have run a mile. She would play along with him for the time being and then she might just have to play her trump card. But then again it might not come to that - she might have misread him but she didn’t think so.
* * *
‘When I say she was gorgeous, I’m not exaggerating,’ Jeremy told Gabrielle after he sat down again. ‘When they first came to Ashbourne, it must be fourteen years ago now, she caused quite a stir. Even today Ashbourne is not known for its ethnic minority communities. Fourteen years ago that was definitely the case, so having a young Asian beauty - they were just twenty-one at the time - come to town, especially one who lived in a big house and was married to a young white man, well ...’ Jeremy moved his hand towards Gabrielle’s but stopped at the last moment. ‘You don’t mind me telling you how it was, do you?’
‘Not at all.’ His attempt to be tactile had not been lost on Gabrielle and she smiled to herself.
‘As I told you, she and Annabelle -’
‘Your wife?’
‘My ex-wife ... they became good friends. They met initially at a community meeting convened to
discuss various changes proposed for the town, and they really got on well. Then we were invited to some of the same dinner parties and that was that.’ Jeremy looked out of the window to his left. ‘Such a loss, such a very tragic loss,’ he said quietly.
‘Did Lucinda work?’
‘Not until the kids -’
‘Charlotte and Timothy?’
‘Yes, that’s right. Look, what is your connection with Adam?’ The question was asked in a pleasant enough way, but Gabrielle didn’t want to do the talking and explaining yet.
‘Do you mind waiting for me to tell you? I understand why you want to know because you don’t know me at all. I could be anybody. I -’
‘No,’ Jeremy said. ‘You’re not just anybody. I don’t invite just anybodies to have dinner with me.’
No, you just invite attractive women who you think you stand a chance with, Gabrielle thought. It doesn’t matter who they are, they simply present a challenge. ‘You’re being very patient. You were telling me about the children.’
‘Was I? Oh, yes, Charlotte and Timothy. Actually it should be Timothy and Charlotte. He would have been nearly thirteen and a half now and Charlotte coming up twelve, both gorgeous looking kids. Had their mother’s colouring, though a bit lighter. Charlotte was the image of her mother and Timothy took after his father.’ Jeremy paused for a second or two. ‘Why? Why would anybody want to murder such an idyllic family as the Harrisons? I’m not surprised Adam reacted the way he did, I thought he might do something to himself. I think I would have done, especially when the police were so bloody useless.’
‘Are you saying, Mr Jacobs, that -’
‘I’m not having dinner with someone who calls me Mr Jacobs. My name is Jeremy and I’m going to call you Gabrielle unless you tell me you object.’
‘That’s my name,’ she said, smiling.
‘You have a lovely smile,’ Jeremy told her. ‘You ought to try it more often.’
‘I do when the circumstances are right.’
‘That’s me told.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, it’s just that -’
‘No, that was my fault. We’re talking about the murders of three people. Not really the time for smiling.’
‘You say you were friends. Did they mix a lot with others?’
Jeremy thought for a moment. ‘No, not really. Adam is a bit of an introvert. I’m not saying he’s anti-social in any way, he just sometimes prefers his own company, unlike me that is.’ He smiled. ‘As I said they went to the duty dinner parties, and of course they held their own. But Adam eventually worked in the city and was away all week, so to a great extent the weekends were sacrosanct. No, Annabelle and I were privileged, and I mean privileged, to be one of the few couples who were allowed into the Harrison’s inner sanctum.’
‘Did Annabelle and Lucinda stay friends after you separated?’
‘Yes, we both did. In fact Lucinda and Adam did their damndest to keep us together, and I hasten to add they nearly succeeded. They seemed more distraught by the whole affair than we were.’
Gabrielle wanted to ask why they had separated but thought better of it. ‘Does Annabelle still live locally?’ she asked.
‘Yes, not far from here, in Church Street, in a converted school of all places.’ Gabrielle logged that piece of information away.
She sipped her wine, noticing that the second glass had almost gone as well. ‘Are the police still investigating the murders?’
‘As far as I know, yes. It’s a big embarrassment for them but I suppose it’s not their fault there isn’t or wasn’t a scrap of evidence. They say that all murderers leave clues behind. Well, this one didn’t. The last mystery murder in the area was a couple of years ago when a German girl was found by a hiker dead in the Dove Dale woods north of the town. They solved that one eventually, but as far as the Harrisons are concerned, nothing.’
‘Do you have any thoughts?’
‘I have a theory, yes, but let me get us some more to drink. The table is booked for eight o’clock so we’ve got another forty-five minutes.’
‘No, not for me. As I said, I normally don’t drink.’
‘Something soft then, we can have a bottle of wine with dinner.’
‘Yes, an orange and lemonade would be nice.’
* * *
Adam woke suddenly.
A combination of the throb of the engines, a good wine with dinner and a very large brandy to follow had sent him into an alcoholic sleep. After dinner he’d been given a scented blanket so he had slipped off his shoes and drifted off. He was pleased he’d booked club class so he was able to stretch out.
He listened to the engines. There didn’t seem to be any change in pitch. The lights were dimmed but he could see there were one or two reading lights on.
He looked across the aisle.
The middle-aged couple with whom he’d exchanged pleasantries appeared to be fast asleep and he smiled as he noted they were holding hands. They had told him they were on a nostalgic trip back to Hong Kong. Desmond had been a young officer in the 1st Gurkha Rifles and Pamela the daughter of a senior officer in headquarters on Hong Kong Island. They met at a cocktail party, fell in love and married two years later. That was in the late sixties, and now they were in their sixties and were going back for what they hoped would be a worthwhile trip down memory lane.
Adam wanted to tell them he was doing much the same thing but there would be questions and the last thing he wanted was to relive the last few months. He did that often enough in his dreams, but it wasn’t one of those dreams that had woken him.
A passing stewardess stopped to check that he was all right and asked whether he wanted any refreshments. Adam declined. Instead he lifted the window blind so that he could see the night sky. The stars were very bright but he didn’t try to identify any of them. He had never been into astronomy although Timothy had shown an enthusiastic interest. Glancing down he saw the blinking lights of another jet passing well underneath them in the opposite direction.
What had woken him?
Was it anything he should worry about? His meeting with his mother and father had certainly not gone as he had hoped or planned. In fact it went ten times worse than anything he’d imagined. It was his worst nightmare. He saw in his mother’s eyes that if she’d had her way it would have gone differently, but his father’s stubbornness had got worse with age. The deaths of his only daughter and grandchildren were too much for him - for anybody - to accept and he had to find somebody to blame. As there was no identified culprit, Adam was the next best thing. Although being ostracised was bad enough, Adam wondered how long his father had actually harboured the disgust he now felt. Was he telling the truth when he said he hadn’t just been honouring a promise to take Adam in? Had he been any more than a gweilo orphan who needed looking after?
If his mother had not felt unwell that day then everything might have been different. They would not have been discovered, he might not have been sent away to school, they might not have moved to the UK, he might not have become an accountant, and Lucinda, Charlotte and Timothy might still be alive.
Is that what had woken him? Had he dreamt they were still alive?
No. Their lives and deaths were on his mind constantly so why would it be them that woke him? There was no revelation, no realisation, no conclusion and certainly no closure.
Adam turned away from the window and squeezed his eyes tightly together in a frown, trying to recall what he’d been dreaming about.
Nothing.
Whatever it had been, it was not going to come back to him.
But he did need to plan.
He hadn’t decided yet what he was going to do and where he was going to stay. There were another twelve hours flying time for him to do that. His reason for going to Hong Kong would dawn on him eventually.
Wouldn’t it?
* * *
Jeremy sipped his third pint of lager and Gabrielle eyed him with interest as she in turn sipped her orange
and lemonade.
‘For me it seems the most likely explanation,’ Jeremy said, ‘and I believe the police did fully investigate this particular avenue, but as with all other possibilities they didn’t get anywhere.’
‘And do you still think that’s why they were murdered?’ Gabrielle asked incredulously. The possibility of the murders being racially motivated had crossed her own mind when she had first read the account in the paper, but she’d dismissed the thought: children had been murdered and not even the most racially prejudiced individual could do that, surely? Or was she just being terribly naive?
‘There are some very warped minds out there. I wouldn’t put anything beyond the way some people think.’
‘But thinking it and then murdering are poles apart.’
‘Agreed, but it happens.’
‘So you really believe they were murdered just because of the colour of their skin?’
‘Yes, and I think it’s a probability rather than a possibility. Plus of course there’s the fact that Lucinda was married to a white man.’
‘It’s unbelievable.’
‘Although perfectly plausible. Nevertheless the police didn’t get anywhere.’ The bar had filled up considerably and after looking at his watch Jeremy added, ‘We’ll go through in another few minutes. Might get a bit of hush then. This place is very popular, as you can see.’
Gabrielle had not really noticed the noise because she’d been hanging on to Jeremy’s every word. There was only one ethnic family in her parish - an Indian family - and they were among the nicest people she had ever met. She could not imagine anybody ever wanting to harm the parents let alone the children.
Of course she was not totally unaware of what went on in the rest of the UK but when it didn’t happen on your own doorstep it tended to attract less attention. So why did she remember the detail of the report on the Harrison murders so well? There wasn’t any mention of the murders being racially motivated in the report she had read.
Gabrielle’s imagination conjured up pictures she would have preferred not to think about. The murders were not the reason why she was here. She had come to Ashbourne in search of Adam and so far she and Jeremy Jacobs had hardly talked about him, but as they were having dinner together there would still be time.
In Denial Page 13
