* * *
As he followed Gabrielle through to the dining room Jeremy Jacobs could not help admiring her strong calf muscles, contrasting with the delicate ankles and feet. He assumed her knees and thighs, under the expensive linen skirt, were equally shapely. He allowed his imagination to run away with him as he watched the slight sway of her hips.
Miss Gabrielle Brooks, he thought, was obviously fascinated by Adam Harrison and his family. He had deliberately not talked about Adam that much but he guessed her questions would come soon. There was something very secretive about this young woman: the answer she gave when he asked what she did was a little strange, but beguiling. There was a reserved sparkle in her eyes; they smiled at him but he sensed it was more of a challenge than an invitation. She was the exact opposite to Lucinda, except in attractiveness.
Jeremy Jacobs decided he was going to enjoy dinner.
After they were seated the waiter appeared with the menus and Gabrielle immediately disappeared behind hers so that she could hide her smile. Now was not the time for flippancy but Jeremy Jacobs was making his misguided intentions rather obvious. He was in for a shock. She wondered when he would make his move because it was pretty obvious that the reason he was here was little to do with the Harrison murders or Adam.
‘The fish is very good here,’ she heard him say.
She lowered her menu. ‘I’m not that partial to fish, and I’m not that keen on red meat either. It’s either chicken or a vegetarian dish for me.’
‘There are a couple of pasta dishes.’
‘No, I’ll have the chicken Caesar salad, please.’
‘What about a starter?’
‘No, thank you, the salad will be fine and then if I need filling up I can always have a dessert.’
‘True. Would you like a white wine with your salad?’
‘What are you having?’
‘The lamb I think.’
‘You’ll want red with that.’
‘I’ll get a white and a red.’
‘No, no, no, there’s no need. I won’t have more than a glass. Please just get a red.’
Jeremy seemed a little frustrated as he signalled for the waiter.
‘Before I carry on, perhaps now is an appropriate moment for you to tell me what your connection with Adam actually is.’
Gabrielle decided she really had annoyed him. The smile had gone and his body language had become quite defensive. As she began to speak she reached across the table and put her fingers on his hand. ‘Yes, I am rather expecting you to do all the talking. Sorry.’ She let the tips of her fingers caress his hand before withdrawing them. ‘I suppose some would say my connection is a little tenuous and others would perhaps say we, under the circumstances, became very close very quickly.’
‘And what circumstances were those?’ Jeremy asked a little more lightly.
‘You were right with something you said earlier because I think I may have stopped him from taking his own life.’
‘What?’ The surprise was genuine.
‘Do you know Loch Lomond?’
‘I went there as a child many years ago with my parents but I wouldn’t say I know it.’
There was little point in complicating matters so she decided to leave out a lot of the detail, but perhaps what she was going to say was complicated enough. She smiled. ‘There’s an area called Balmaha on the south east shoreline that is particularly beautiful. I go there when I need some form of inspiration. I was there just over a week ago when I saw a man a few yards from the water’s edge and it seemed obvious to me from his posture what he intended doing. I couldn’t just let him go ahead so I went over to him.’
‘Are you saying that Adam was contemplating drowning himself?’
‘I wasn’t absolutely sure but sure enough to intervene -’
The wine waiter arrived and after the wine was poured Jeremy said, ‘I suppose nobody would blame him after what happened. I’m sorry, you were saying?’
‘We got talking and eventually he opened up and told me his life story. We were only together for twelve hours but …’
‘And then?’
‘He’d booked in to a local hotel so he went back there ...’
‘Only him? Where did you go?’
Gabrielle frowned. ‘I went home, Jeremy.’ She chose to ignore what was being implied. ‘As I was saying, he stayed in the hotel that night and the following morning he came back down here to Ashbourne, as far as I know.’
‘He certainly did because he came to see me a couple of days later but I’m surprised to say he didn’t mention you.’ The smile was back on Jeremy’s face as he sipped his wine.
‘If he’d mentioned me he might have felt he would need to mention the reason why we’d met.’ Without thinking she picked up her glass and took a sip of wine. She wasn’t feeling light headed but knew if she drank any more she would begin to slur her words. When she was a student she’d discovered that alcohol always went straight to her head which is why she had almost stopped drinking.
Jeremy shook his head. ‘So, in a nutshell, you saw this stranger by the shores of Loch Lomond, you were convinced he was intent on committing suicide, you befriended him, he told you his life story and then went away?’
‘Yes, I know it sounds bizarre but that’s very much what happened.’
‘I suppose - well there’s actually no suppose about it - Adam owes you an awful lot.’
‘Then again, maybe he wishes I’d ignored my instincts and just walked away.’
‘It was a very brave thing you did though, approaching a complete stranger like that.’
‘As I said, what I did was instinctive.’ Gabrielle wanted the discussion to move on and Jeremy Jacobs obliged.
‘So why are you here?’
It was a question she was expecting and one she could answer for herself but once again, the complete truth was not something she was going to reveal to Jeremy Jacobs, or anybody else if it ever came to that. She’d had time to think about the answer she would give. ‘I normally come down to England four or five times every year.’
‘What? These trips are to do with your job?’
‘Exactly, and by coincidence I’m due in Birmingham tomorrow for a conference, so I thought I’d call in to see Adam and see if he was all right. I went to the address he’d given me, but to my surprise I discovered that a “For Sale” sign was being put up and that was when I was directed to you.’ She let her eyes rest on Jeremy’s for a few seconds. ‘It’s not every day you get the opportunity to save somebody’s life and with Adam I wasn’t sure I’d done a complete job. So, as I said, my visit was on the off-chance I’d see him again.’
Jeremy Jacobs put his index fingers against his lips and studied Gabrielle for a few seconds. ‘You’re a very interesting young lady. Has anybody ever told you that before?’ He held up his hand when she began to speak. ‘No, let me attempt to answer my own question.’ He paused again as he took another sip of wine, his eyes never leaving Gabrielle’s.
‘You said what you’d told me was bizarre, so bizarre that it has to be the truth. In my line of work I get to meet a lot of people and reading between the lines of what they’re trying to tell me is all part of the job. When you walked into my office this afternoon, as well as being a sight for sore eyes if you’ll excuse me stating the obvious …’ His smile grew. ‘… initially I thought maybe you were a divorce settlement but then I noticed there were no rings on your left hand or any sign that there had been there. Then maybe something as simple as an insurance claim that had gone wrong came to mind, but I settled on something equally bizarre. I thought maybe you wanted to bring a civil action against somebody where maybe the police had failed to prosecute.’
‘Do all solicitors have such vivid imaginations?’ Gabrielle could see the waiter heading their way with their meals.
‘It’s a necessity on occasions,’ Jeremy told her, smiling as he leaned back to allow the waiter to put a plate in front of him.
‘And w
hat was this civil action going to be all about?’
‘Assault or even rape,’ he replied, watching the waiter place the vegetable dishes on the table.
‘You decided in the space of a few seconds that I’d been sexually assaulted or even raped, the police had failed to prosecute and I wanted to bring a civil action? As you said, how bizarre is that?’ She picked up her knife and fork. ‘This looks good.’ She wanted to get back to the real reason she was here.
Jeremy helped himself to some buttered new potatoes. ‘I could have been right but on this occasion I wasn’t.’ His smile broadened. ‘But you must follow my logic.’
‘So any attractive female who isn’t married who goes to see a solicitor must have been assaulted or raped, is that what you’re saying?’
‘You know it isn’t. There’s a lot more to it than that. You had an air of retribution about you, a determination that I now accept was going in a different direction from the one I thought.’ Jeremy cut into the rack of lamb and was pleased to see it had been cooked exactly the way he liked it.
‘Anyway, I haven’t been sexually assaulted or raped. To get back to the point, I am here because I’m looking for Adam Harrison. And I was directed to your firm of solicitors because the estate agency responsible for selling his house thought you might be able to help. It’s as simple as that. Do you know where Adam might be and if you do, are you willing to tell me?’ She placed a piece of chicken in her mouth and hoped her directness would not be rebuffed.
‘Gabrielle,’ Jeremy said, laying down his knife and fork, ‘I’m having dinner with a delectable young lady who until a few hours ago I didn’t know existed. I’m enjoying your company as well as enjoying looking at you. I’ve a feeling that once I’ve told you what you want to know then my usefulness will be over and you’ll be gone as quickly as you arrived. Who would blame me under the circumstances for withholding that vital piece of information for a little longer?’
‘I’m not sure whether you’re just charming or full of blether, Jeremy, but I can wait. I’d like to remind you though, that we’re talking about somebody who was hell bent on killing himself, so don’t let’s get too carried away with the compliments. If I was just looking for an old friend, fair enough, but it’s just a little more serious than that.’
‘Please don’t misjudge me, Gabrielle. I’ve taken on board fully what you’ve told me, and I do understand the seriousness of it all. But having dinner with me this evening isn’t going to hurry anything along … because Adam at this precise moment in time …’ he looked at his watch ‘… is probably over the Indian Ocean on his way to Hong Kong.’
‘Hong Kong?’
‘Yes, delectable lady. Hong Kong.’
Chapter Twelve
Hong Kong 1982
As Lucinda and Adam sat side-by-side on the sofa after being discovered in bed together by their mother, Patrick was five miles away. But he was also being subjected to deep scrutiny.
It may be that their mother thought Lucinda and Adam had been experimenting, and it could be argued that Patrick was doing the same thing, but for him, his introductions to adult life were more macabre, more sinister and more criminal than anything Christina may have alluded to with Lucinda and Adam.
Patrick had felt for a very long time that he was different.
He idolised his father. He was everything Patrick wanted to be: successful, rich and powerful.
But Patrick had convinced himself at an early age that he would never replicate his father; he believed he would never live up to either his own or his father’s expectations.
But that wasn’t the only reason why he felt different.
From the moment Adam was welcomed into the Yong family, Patrick - even at the age of seven - felt threatened. Who did this gweilo - this foreign devil - think he was? As a child he had watched his father’s friends and employees kow-towing to the grown-up gweilos: he had seen gweilo policemen and gweilo soldiers, gweilo women and their gweilo brats. It wasn’t even their homeland. His homeland belonged to the Chinese people. The gweilos were invaders, who smelt and had disgusting habits. It wouldn’t last forever: one day his people would have what belonged to them.
Although Patrick was only seven when Adam started living with them he understood what had happened, but why couldn’t this white boy, this gweilo, go back to England? Why did he have to live with them? Patrick accepted he wasn’t pure Chinese and he accepted his mother was also a gweilo of sorts. He would stand in front of the mirror wishing that as he grew up his features would not change. He was proud to be more like his father than his mother. He was pleased that Lucinda had their mother’s features because it meant it was less likely he would change.
In Patrick’s mind, his mother and sister must be tolerated. He didn’t allow his hatred for Adam to show and he didn’t really wish his sister any harm, but she had become an obstacle.
He would bide his time and then one day, when the circumstances were right he would exact his revenge. Patrick saw what was happening between Lucinda and Adam long before the day they were discovered by their mother, but that day his life also changed.
He had seen his sister and adopted brother touching: he saw the way they looked at each other when they thought nobody was watching.
Patrick stored the information away.
* * *
As Lucinda and Adam faced their mother, Patrick was also facing fright.
He was undergoing an initiation that would leave him traumatised for days to come, but one which would welcome him to the inner sanctum of an organisation that would rule the rest of his life.
Patrick was terrified.
He was cold, yet he could feel the sweat running down his back. His hands were fastened behind him, his vulnerability only adding to the panic that engulfed him from the moment he was stripped. He wished he had not agreed and he wished he could go back half an hour and change his mind.
He hoped it was just a nightmare.
‘So, Number Sixty-Six,’ the man said. He was in the centre of the group in front of him; his lips were discernible only by their movement behind the black silk hood over his head. There were holes cut for the man’s eyes which shone like black stones. The men either side of him were similarly hooded. The hoods were black and so were the coolie black cotton trousers and shirts. ‘You think you have something to offer us, do you?’
Patrick tried to speak but his mouth was dry and his tongue felt as though it was twice its normal size. They were watching him, their black eyes staring at him from inside their black hoods. He looked beyond them to the dark dank walls of the warehouse.
He did not know where he was.
He’d been blindfolded, bundled into a car and driven around until he became disorientated. The car stopped and he was dragged into the building. His clothes were removed and he was manhandled once again until he was standing in front of the five men who were now scrutinising him.
‘You don’t have a lot to say for someone who thinks he has something to offer us.’ The leader paused, turning his head towards the man on his left. ‘It’s not as though you are not here of you own free will. Number forty-five recommended you and normally his recommendations are worthy of consideration. Are you going to be different?’
‘I …’ Patrick started to say.
‘Ah! He has found his voice.’ The man leant forward, clasping his hands. ‘So what do you have to tell us?’
‘I … I am here because I want to be but why … why am I like this?’
‘We find that when naked, people are more likely to tell the truth.’ The man looked beyond Patrick and nodded. When Patrick began to turn his head the man said, ‘No, do not turn away from us.’
He waited a few seconds.
‘Now, Number Sixty-Six, you will have been told by Number Forty-Five, and if not you will have surmised, that we demand utter loyalty from our members. If that loyalty is ever brought into doubt then there is only one outcome. You will simply disappear and nobody will ever discove
r a hair from your head let alone any part of your body. Do you understand?’
Patrick nodded.
‘Good. To help us establish and develop this understanding, you will now be asked to complete a few simple tasks, the first of which will be placed on the floor in front of you.’
The man nodded again and the hooded man who had been behind Patrick stepped into his vision and placed a high-sided cardboard box on the floor. In the box was a rat, scrabbling and trying to extricate itself from its prison.
When the man spoke Patrick looked up again. ‘Now, Number Sixty-Six, this is your first task. Your hands will be untied and then you are to kill the rat. When dead you are to bite off its head. Do it.’
Patrick felt his hands being untied.
He rubbed each wrist while looking down at the rat. He knew what he had to do but did not know whether he could do it. It was simple and yet …
He dropped to his knees. The rat reacted to the movement and stopped. Patrick’s right hand swept into the box, scooped it up and squeezed as hard as he could. The rat struggled. Patrick put two fingers at the back its neck and twisted as hard as he could. It squealed but then fell silent. He lifted it to his mouth, feeling the fur against his lips as he put its head into his mouth and bit down.
He spat the severed head onto the floor.
‘Impressive,’ the central hooded figure said, nodding. ‘Let us see what you do with something a little bigger.’ He nodded again.
The dead rat and the box were taken away.
Patrick could feel the sweat on the palms of his hands and all over his body. It was running into his eyes and down his spine. The figure returned and this time he stood in front of Patrick, stroking a cat. After a few seconds he offered the cat to Patrick who instinctively took it into his arms. The cat looked up at him, blinking its eyes and purring
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