Lorne gasped. “You mean she thinks her sister was on-board that boat—the boat on the news at the moment? My God, that poor girl! Poor Mai Lin.”
“Her mother says she knows deep down her daughter was on that boat. You know what a mother’s instinct can be like? Isn’t it dreadful? Her sister was coming here for a better life. I knew nothing about it until last night. I’ve asked Mai Lin what I can do to help, but she says nothing. She’ll deal with her loss in her own way. She’s gone into her shell. She’s always been a little timid, but now she just won’t speak to me at all. I feel so inadequate.”
“Grief affects people in different ways, Natasha. I wouldn’t take it personally if I were you.”
“Oh, I’m not. I just wish I could help the poor girl, that’s all. But she keeps shutting me out.”
“Cultural differences. I’m sure if she needs your help, she’ll ask. Has she worked here long?”
“About a year now, I suppose. I doubt she’ll ask for my help, though; she’s never asked before. Bloody hell, I didn’t even know her sister was coming to England.”
“It does seem odd that she didn’t tell you. Have you seen the news this morning?”
“No. I’ve tried to keep the TV off in case it upsets Mai Lin.”
Lorne nodded her understanding, pulled out a chair, and sat down heavily on the wrought iron seat. “Well, I tracked the story down on my laptop this morning and immediately wished I hadn’t.” Lorne took a sip of tea before she continued, “The cameraman was filming when they pulled another body from the sea. The camera panned around, and there were numerous bodies on the shore. They were laid out side by side and covered with tarpaulin sheets. Even the hardest of hearts would have found that an upsetting sight. If Mai Lin had witnessed that, she would have been devastated. I know I was, and I didn’t know any of the victims.”
Natasha’s hand flew up and covered her bikini-clad chest. “How truly awful. Who’d have thought a storm could cause such damage?”
“I take it from what you’ve told me already you have no idea how Mai Lin’s sister obtained her ticket?”
Natasha shook her head. “Not a clue. I’m not sure she would tell me even if I asked. Why?”
Lorne smiled, but avoided the question. Thinking back to what Tony and her father had said at breakfast about the vessel probably being involved in human trafficking, she didn’t want to cast any aspersions without the necessary proof. “Hey, are you in the market for rehoming another little dog, should one come in to the centre?”
As the conversation reverted back to Timmy, Natasha’s smile broadened and she snapped her fingers to encourage the dog out from the shade under the lounger. Timmy joined them and sat in front of Natasha, begging for a treat. He jiggled his front paws up and down until he got one. “I’m not sure I could sweet-talk my hubby into having a second dog. He loves Timmy to bits, but I don’t think men view dogs in the same way as us, do they? Why do you ask? Is there a new dog due in? Another old dear going into a home or something?”
“No, nothing like that. I can see that Timmy has landed on his feet here and is very comfortable in his surroundings; that isn’t always the case when we rehome dogs. No matter how fussy I am on the home visits before I place a dog in a new home, one bad penny never fails to slip through the net. If I know a dog is well loved, then I always ask if the new owner would be willing to take on another dog. Saves me advertising costs, etc.”
“That’s understandable. Actually, a couple of the ladies I occasionally lunch with have taken your card. I’m not sure any of them would be interested in the larger dogs you are trying to rehome, but they all adore Timmy. I’m sure some of them will be in touch with you soon.”
Lorne cringed inside, but kept the smile prominently fixed on her face. The last thing she wanted was a group of snooty women turning up at the centre looking for a tiny breed to keep their handbags warm. That was the kind of road she didn’t intend going down. Laughing, she said, “I’m so glad you’re not the type of woman who sees Timmy as a handbag dog. I can’t abide it when these footballers’ wives and girlfriends—WAGS, are they called?—display those poor creatures in their expensive Gucci handbags. If only they knew the psychological damage they are doing to the dogs. Sheila, the lady who got me involved in rescuing dogs, has told me quite a few horror stories about how the dogs start biting their owners; some of the poor mites even lose the use of their little legs because they’re carried around everywhere.”
“No! Really? Well, rest assured that Timmy won’t ever be treated that way, Lorne. I’ll be sure to put off any of my girlfriends who have ideas along those lines. What shameful behaviour. Chavs—that’s what they are. Most of those girls have been pulled out of the gutter. Not the type I ever want to mix with. They stand out a mile at these functions I have to attend with Jason. You want to hear the bloody laughs on some of these girls. Really they are so uncouth it sends shivers up my spine just thinking about them. Horrid, horrid girls.”
“I’m so glad we think along the same lines on this one, Natasha. If any of your friends get in touch do you mind if I ring you before I carry out a home visit?”
“Not at all. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” Natasha got up and moved her lithe, suntanned, glistening body over to the table. She picked up the brass bell sitting on its surface and rang it a few times. “Silly girl didn’t bring any biscuits.”
Lorne raised a hand. “Please don’t bother on my account. I don’t really like to eat between meals anyway.”
“Well, I fancy a Ryvita. Love a crispbread at this time of day. I don’t tend to eat lunch until about two or three o’clock. Jason likes to have his evening meal around nine. I’d never last if I ate at midday or one o’clock.”
Mai Lin appeared and bowed in front of the table, and again Lorne noticed the way the girl totally avoided eye contact with her.
“Be a dear and bring me a crispbread with some cheese on, Mai Lin.”
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” the maid said before she hurried back into the house. She returned within seconds carrying a second tray with a plate of crispbreads and a wedge of cheese on the side.
Lorne watched the girl’s increasing discomfort around her. She tried to put the girl at ease by thanking her, despite the crispbreads being for Natasha and not for her, but yet again, the girl refused to make eye contact, Lorne couldn’t help wondering why. She dipped forward to try to catch the girl’s eye, and for the briefest moment, Mai Lin’s gaze met hers. Lorne was shocked by the sadness she saw in her eyes, and by a noticeable discolouration that she had clearly tried to disguise with makeup underneath and around her eyes.
Hmm…that’s strange. Maybe she’s had a fall or something.
Natasha dismissed the girl, and she ran back into the house again under Lorne’s watchful gaze.
Satisfied that Timmy had settled in to his new surroundings and that Natasha cared for him—despite feeling suddenly uncomfortable with how Mai Lin reacted to her visit—Lorne decided to leave.
“I’m glad Timmy has found his home for life, Natasha. Any problems at all, don’t hesitate to ring me. I better get back home now, as I have a young family coming to pick out a dog early this afternoon.”
“I understand, but it’s a shame you can’t stay and chat,” Natasha said, nibbling on her crispbread.
As Lorne meandered back to the car, she couldn’t help wondering if, in spite of her wealth, Natasha wasn’t a very lonely woman. Lorne was distracted on the journey home, she thought a lot about Mai Lin’s terrible situation. Having to deal with her sister’s death in a strange country was one thing; however, Lorne was also concerned about the facial bruises Mai Lin had gone out of her way to try to cover up.
Chapter Three
From the minute she arrived home until five o’clock, the afternoon proved to be chaotic. The centre was unusually busy with people dropping by wanting to offer some of the permanent boarders a new home, and the phone didn’t stop ringing, either. Most of th
e calls had been enquiries from people wanting to board their dogs for a week or two’s holiday, but sadly, they didn’t have room for any more boarders. With all of them busy, in one way or another, Lorne didn’t get the opportunity to voice her concerns about Mai Lin to either Tony or her father. Nonetheless, that didn’t stop the girl’s plight from popping into her mind now and then during the afternoon.
“Boy, what a day!” Tony announced, collapsing into one of the chairs around the kitchen table.
Lorne filled the kettle and turned to watch her tired father ease himself into the chair next to her husband. She tried to make light of how tired they all looked. “Huh! Men—no stamina for real work.”
Tony was the first to pounce on her. “Says you. The one person who took time out to go off gallivanting.”
“My sentiments exactly,” her father added with a smirk.
“Ah, about that visit: I wanted to have a chat with both of you with regard to what happened during my visit. Let me make the coffee first.” She glanced over her shoulder and watched the two men in her life exchange a puzzled look. After making the coffee, she placed a mug in front of everyone and sat down next to her husband.
“Come on, don’t keep us waiting. We’re not going to have to take the dog back, are we?”
“Not this time, no.” Lorne blew on her coffee before she took a sip. It was a delay tactic while she mulled over how to tell them about Mai Lin’s situation.
An impatient Tony asked, “What, then? Lorne, I know to be worried when you go quiet on us.”
She smiled at her husband’s exceptional perception. He really did know her well. “Okay. When I arrived at Natasha Wallace’s house, everything with the dog went well. She’s changed his name to Timmy and the little chap appears to be really happy there.”
“So what’s the problem?” her father piped up proving to be just as impatient as her husband.
“You two are incorrigible. Give me a chance, I’m getting there.”
“Wish you’d speed it up a bit—I’m dying for a soak in the bath,” Tony complained.
Lorne slapped the top of his arm and tutted. “Here’s the thing: on my previous visit to Natasha’s ‘stately home,’ I don’t remember seeing a maid there.”
“I’m not with you.” Tony seemed confused.
“Give me a bloody chance, Tony. Right, so we were out by the pool, and the maid, a petite Asian girl, brought us out a tray of tea.”
“So? What’s unusual about that?” her father asked.
Frustrated that the two men kept interrupting her, she grabbed her mug and stood up, walked over to the worktop, and leaned her back against it so that she was still facing them. “Will you two just listen and stop interrupting me?” Both men nodded. “The girl seemed really upset, and after she left the tray and walked back into the house, I asked Natasha what was wrong with her. You’ll never believe what she said.”
“We’re waiting,” Tony replied.
“It turns out that Mai Lin’s sister might have been aboard that boat on the news. You know, the one that went down in the storm.”
“Wow!” Tony’s exclamation hung between them for a second or two.
Lorne glanced at her father whose face had crinkled with concern. “Did you get a chance to ask her about why her sister might have been on the boat? Not that I think you’d get a straight answer if her sister was being trafficked.”
“Precisely. I really didn’t want to ask her all sorts of probing questions in front of Natasha. It wouldn’t have been an appropriate time either considering she thinks her sister has just died. I’m not sure how to proceed. What do you guys suggest?”
Her father shrugged. “It’s difficult, as we don’t know the circumstances for her sister being aboard the boat, it could turn out to be completely innocent, although I doubt it. Only a fool or someone desperate would put themselves in jeopardy like that—cram themselves into a ship’s hold on a long trip. We need to wait until we get all the information before getting involved.”
“I agree,” Tony said looking thoughtful. “Could you give Katy a call?”
“Good idea. It’s her birthday on Sunday, and I was going to invite her to spend the weekend with us anyway, as Charlie is otherwise engaged. She’s going to a seventeenth birthday party at one of her friends’ places. I told her to take the weekend off. I’ll give Katy a call now, before she leaves work for the evening.”
“You do that and I’ll start on dinner. How does spag bol sound?”
Lorne kissed her husband on the cheek as she passed him on the way into the lounge. “Sounds like a wonderful idea to me.” She heard pots and pans banging behind her, and thought back to the time when she had taught Tony to cook. She smiled at how far he’d come since the day he had forgotten to put water in with the pasta and she’d had to throw one of her best copper bottom pans away. He wouldn’t dream of doing such a daft thing nowadays, after her superb guidance in the kitchen.
She picked up the phone and dialled Katy’s mobile. A harassed Katy answered after the fifth ring, just before the voicemail kicked in. “Yesssss!” she hissed.
“Ah, I know that tone well. Is it a bad time? I can call back later, no problem.”
“Nope, now’s as good a time as any. Sorry, Lorne. My inept colleagues are just winding me up, that’s all. How are things?”
Lorne could tell by Katy’s tone that she didn’t want to share what was bugging her, so Lorne avoided asking the obvious question. “What are you up to this weekend?”
Katy was silent for a while as she contemplated her answer. “Not much, why?”
“You’re spending it with us. No arguments. I’m not having you spending your birthday alone. It’ll just be the four of us.”
“Four of us?” Katy asked, her voice softening.
“Yeah, the brat won’t be here.” Lorne chuckled. “You can have her room for the weekend.”
“That’d be cool. I wasn’t relishing the thought of being alone this weekend—not that I’m heavily into celebrating birthdays or anything. How’s the centre doing?”
“Busy today. Listen, I don’t want to hold you up any more than is necessary. However, I do need to ask a favour while I’m on the phone.”
Katy lowered her voice and Lorne could hear the sound of Katy’s shoes walking on the tiled corridor. “Shoot, I’m out of earshot of the team now.”
Lorne chuckled, “Yeah, I can hear that it’s still nice and echoey in the ladies’ loo. I wondered if you knew anything about the boat that capsized in the storm off the Kent coast?”
“Dreadful story. Not heard anything as yet, only what I’ve seen on TV. Why?”
“Well you know what suspicious minds Tony, Dad, and I have. We thought it sounded like a human trafficking case.”
“Hmm…I’ve been up to my eyes in it around here and not given it much thought, but looking at it objectively, you could be on to something. Why the interest? I mean, why this particular boat? There are hundreds of incidents like this that happen throughout the year. We’re easy access for this kind of thing, what with the UK being an island, although it is a worldwide problem. Why has this one grabbed your attention, Lorne?”
“To begin with, I wasn’t really sure. While I was watching the news, something in me began to stir. You know what happens when you get a gut feeling?”
“Yeah, I do. You said ‘to begin with’—has something else happened?”
Lorne gave Katy a brief summary of what had happened at Natasha’s house, and Katy listened without interruption.
“I see. Well, I can certainly see what I can dig up this end. Can I get back to you tomorrow? In fact, if you don’t mind, I’ll leave it ’til early afternoon; maybe I’ll have more details to work with by then. What do you think?”
“Great idea. I’ll wait for your call. Are you going to do this with or without Roberts’s knowledge?”
“Without, for the time being. But if I stumble across anything worthwhile, I’ll have to let him know. You know ho
w it is.”
“I understand, Katy. Speak to you tomorrow, then. Oh, and by the way, back to the weekend: is there anything you don’t eat?”
“I can’t stand that porridge stuff for breakfast. There’s a reason they give it to the prisoners serving time.”
Lorne laughed. “And that reason is?”
“Extra punishment, of course.”
She had to laugh at the way Katy spat out the words. There was nothing wrong with porridge in Lorne’s book. A good healthy breakfast set one up for the day. “I’ll make sure we have all the ingredients for an unhealthy fry-up for your stay, then.”
“Sounds fantastic. I’ll get back to you after lunch tomorrow,” Katy reminded her before they hung up.
Lorne joined the others in the kitchen. Tony turned to look at her when she walked into the room. He had tears streaming down his face. She walked over to him and dabbed at his cheeks with a tissue. “There, there, dear, no need to cry.”
“Damn onions, they always seem to get their revenge.”
“Forget the tip I gave you about putting a metal teaspoon in your mouth while you peel and cut them, did you? And you.” She turned to her father and wagged her finger at him. “Why didn’t you remind him how to combat the tears?”
Her father gave an innocent shrug. “What would be the fun in that? I like seeing another man cry, even if it is only over an onion!”
“Oh dear, and I thought I was the one with the mean streak.”
“If you two have quite finished laughing at my expense. How did things go with Katy?”
“She sounded totally harassed, poor love. She’s going to leave it ’til the morning, then start digging around for me.”
“Makes sense to leave it another twelve hours or so,” Tony said, placing the diced onions into a pan.
“Here, let me. It’s taken you over ten minutes to slice one onion; I could’ve had the whole dinner knocked up in that time.”
Mortal Crimes 2 Page 47
