Riding the Storm

by Heather Graves

  Robert had gone very red in the face. Panting, he leaned forward, clutching his chest. ‘Quick, Val. Get me a drink of water. I think I’m having a heart attack,’ he croaked.

  ‘Water won’t help if you are.’ Val was unmoved, quick to see this was an attempt to divert her. ‘I knew you were hiding something when you made up that cock-and-bull story about buying drugs for the horses. Did you really think I’d be fool enough to believe it?’

  ‘OK. I admit it was stupid but I needed time to think.’

  ‘What for? To invent a more plausible lie? But never mind that now. I want you to tell me about Harry Green – the hired killer at the centre of this tale.’ She went on before he could interrupt, ‘And don’t bother to lie because you’re no good at hiding your feelings. I’ve been watching you, Rob, and when you heard the kidnapper had been shot, you weren’t just relieved, you were almost elated.’ She paused for a moment, allowing her words to sink in. ‘Because it meant there was nobody left to point the finger at you.’

  ‘Christ, woman, you have a good imagination. You should write a book.’

  She continued, ignoring his feeble attempt to laugh it off. ‘So – back to Harry Green. Who did you want him to kill and how did it all go so wrong?’

  ‘I dunno what you mean.’

  ‘I won’t be fobbed off. Not this time. We’ve been married a long time, Rob, and nobody knows you better than I do. No one can hold a grudge longer than you and I think this resentment of yours is long-term, going all the way back to Joanne and Peter. They went as far away as they could to get away from you but it wasn’t far enough. You still couldn’t draw a line and leave them in peace.’

  ‘I’d have left them in peace.’ He shrugged, looking sullen. ‘It was Peter who stirred things up. He took that beautiful, big grey horse that was earmarked for me.’

  ‘That’s not so. Hunter’s Moon was up for sale to the highest bidder. And that person turned out not to be you.’

  ‘No. It was bloody Peter again, standing in my light. Somehow he’s always there, isn’t he? Depriving me of whatever I want the most.’

  ‘Including Joanne, I suppose.’ Val sighed. ‘Poor old Rob. Did you really love her that much?’

  ‘Is that what you think?’ He laughed shortly. ‘No. I had a lucky escape there. You wouldn’t have recognized her as I saw her last – aged before her time, twisted with grief.’

  ‘Don’t be cruel, Rob. The poor woman’s dead.’

  He made a dismissive gesture. ‘Ah, she was a loser just like my brother. Why should I care about them?’

  ‘You cared, all right. You cared enough to drive halfway across the country to Peter’s funeral. I thought it was odd at the time. But the funeral was just an excuse, wasn’t it? Come hell or high water, you had to have that horse.’

  ‘And I got him, didn’t I? Give it a rest, Val.’

  ‘I’ll give it a rest when I get to the bottom of it. You still haven’t told me why you needed Harry Green. And why you didn’t pay him when the job was done. You must have known a man like that wouldn’t take it lying down.’

  ‘Christ, woman, you’re like a terrier worrying a bone,’ Rob snarled, all pretence of good temper gone. ‘Let it alone, I say. Or you won’t like what you hear.’

  ‘I’ve lived with disappointment for most of our married life. There’s not much you can say that would hurt me now.’ She sighed yet again. ‘After all, it isn’t as if you ever loved me.’

  ‘Love!’ he said, mocking her. ‘Does anyone really know what that is? It was a marriage of convenience for both of us as you very well know. It was common knowledge that your father was terminally ill and you, as his only heir, would inherit the lot. And you were in a tight enough corner yourself, expecting a child out of wedlock.’

  ‘Yes. Thanks to you.’

  ‘I’ve always wondered about that girl. I see little of myself in her. And when you had that affair with the bloke from England, I started to wonder just how long it had been going on.’

  ‘D’you honestly think he’d have gone back to England without me if Chrissie were his? She’s yours, Robert, like it or not, although there have been times when I wish she wasn’t.’

  ‘Oho, now the truth is coming out. I was a fool, wasn’t I? I thought if you had one child already, you’d be able to give me a son. But you couldn’t even do that for me, could you?’

  ‘God knows, Robert, I tried.’ She straightened her shoulders and folded her arms. ‘But you’re dodging the issue as usual. I want to know about Harry Green and why you needed to hire such a dangerous man. Your resentment against Peter and his family has had a long time to fester. Or why would you be so upset when I brought the lad here?’

  ‘I’m warning you, woman. Let it go. You’re not going to like what you find.’

  ‘I can’t. Not now I’m getting so close. It all started with Hunter’s Moon. I know how much you hate to lose and you lost the race you expected to give you the means to buy him. Then, to add insult to injury, you had to stand there and watch your despised younger brother pay over the odds to defeat you.’

  ‘That horse is a champion. He’d never have reached his potential with Peter. They would have been racing him in the sticks against country nags.’

  ‘While they were training him, yes. But Peter had much more ambition than you give him credit for. Didn’t he bring a mare to Sydney to win an important race? That’s how he made enough money to buy Hunter’s Moon.’

  ‘The horse that was meant to be mine.’

  ‘But you couldn’t just accept it and walk away. Oh, no. You had to give fate a little push. You couldn’t wait to take a horsebox onto the highway, the moment you heard your brother was dead.’ Her eyes widened as she realized she had stumbled on a very unpleasant truth. ‘That’s the connection, isn’t it? Please don’t tell me you hired that man to kill Peter in revenge for taking the horse?’

  ‘Listen to yourself. What kind of monster d’you think I am?’

  ‘A very vengeful one.’

  ‘Peter’s death was an accident. Everyone says so, including the girl who was on the beach with him. The coroner’s verdict was quite clear: accidental death.’

  ‘Coroners like tidy conclusions with no loose ends. It’s all too easy to turn in a verdict of accidental death – case closed.’

  ‘Let it go, Val. You’re looking for sinister motives where there are none.’

  ‘Am I? And what about Tony Raymond? Chrissie saw him that very day at the races less than an hour before he was knocked down in the street. Are you trying to tell me his death was an accident, too?’

  ‘Of course it was!’ Robert was finally losing his temper and yelling. ‘All right – if you must know, I’ll tell you! Harry made a mistake and killed the wrong guy. And that’s the reason I wouldn’t pay.’

  Realizing he’d already said too much, he tried to push himself backwards to get away from her. Val was staring at him, horrified by this latest confession. ‘Now you know everything. I hope you’re satisfied. Not that you can do much about it. It’s all speculation, anyway. And a wife can’t give evidence against her husband, can she? I think that rule still applies.’

  Val was speechless for a moment, struggling to come to terms with what she’d just heard. ‘You hired that man to kill Ryan and make it look like an accident?’ she whispered. ‘Then he made a mistake and killed Tony instead.’

  ‘There you have it.’ Robert applauded softly. ‘Doesn’t matter. Tony Raymond’s no loss to the world.’

  ‘Only to his mother,’ Val said. ‘And it was the killer I saw that day at the hospital, wasn’t it? When I came to collect you from rehab. You said he was just another patient, passing the time of day – but I thought it was odd at the time. You both seemed so intense and it preyed on my mind.’

  ‘Well, it’s too late to worry about that now. Pete’s gone, Joanne’s gone and now Harry’s dead, too. No one left to punish, is there?’

  ‘Only you.’

  ‘Really? I�
��m in jail already; a poor old cripple in a wheelchair.’

  Val sighed. ‘But Robert, so many people have died and what for? So you could scramble over their bodies to get Hunter’s Moon.’ And she shivered, suddenly chilled.

  Robert’s eyes glittered. ‘It’ll be worth it, you’ll see. I’ll make a champion of him yet.’

  Val folded her arms and smiled, shaking her head. ‘But after all your plotting and planning, Tommy still isn’t yours. Oh, he’s physically here in your stables and you think you own him but really he doesn’t belong to you. He’s bonded with Ryan, Peter’s son.’

  ‘Sentimental nonsense!’ Robert was speaking through clenched teeth. ‘That animal’s only as good as the prize money he can win and he hasn’t won anything for me yet. D’you honestly think I care if he likes me or not?’ He started rummaging in a side drawer in his desk and Val realized he was searching for the revolver he kept there. He picked it up and checked it quickly to make sure it was loaded. ‘I’ll show you who’s in charge here. I’ll go down to the stables right now and put a bullet between his eyes.’

  ‘And what good will that do?’ Val felt the first stirring of panic, realizing she had said too much and pushed him too far. ‘You won’t have your champion then and you’ll break Ryan’s heart.’

  ‘An added bonus.’ Robert’s face was a mask of fury, his smile a grimace. Anger provided him with speed as he turned the wheelchair and started moving towards the lift. Val hurried after him, grabbing the back of the chair and fighting to move it aside as her husband twisted around, threatening her with the gun. She knocked it out of his hand before he could fire it and it spun away across the polished floor. But their struggle caused the chair to spin away from her in another direction, flying backwards towards the wide flight of stairs. She lunged forward, trying to catch it, and missed, falling heavily on her knees.

  Realizing his plight, Robert screamed. He felt for the brake but panic was making him fumble. The chair was gathering momentum and couldn’t be stopped as it continued its backwards journey towards the stairs. With its helpless occupant still aboard, it bounced down the first flight before tossing him out when it reached the landing halfway. He rolled the rest of the way down to the hall, unable to stop. Val got unsteadily to her feet and looked over the bannister to see what had happened to him. He was lying motionless on the floor, the broken chair beside him, one wheel still spinning. It was impossible to tell if he was dead or alive.

  She had to think quickly. Questions would be asked if a loaded revolver were to be found at the scene, so she seized it and wiped it off on her cardigan before returning it to its usual place in his desk. Fortunately, it hadn’t been fired. The vacuum cleaner had long since ceased its roar and she knew Margie would have heard the commotion and come to see what had happened.

  She did. Hands to her mouth, she stared at Robert, lying there motionless, and then up at Val, looking down on them from the floor above.

  ‘I heard raised voices and then a scream,’ Margie said. ‘What happened, Val? Are you all right?’

  ‘Robert lost control of his chair and fell down the stairs. D’you think he’s dead?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Margie said. ‘He’s not moving but I don’t want to touch him.’ She shuddered.

  ‘We should call an ambulance.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Margie said. ‘You’ve gone awfully white, Val. Are you sure you’re OK?’

  ‘That’s a stupid question.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘No. It’s not your fault, Margie, it’s me.’ Val closed her eyes briefly. ‘I think I’m in shock. You should have heard the terrible things he said—’

  ‘I did. Most of it, anyway. I didn’t mean to but he was shouting so loud, I couldn’t avoid it. I’ve always felt sorry for you – married to him. He wasn’t a nice man.’

  ‘You’re speaking as if he’s already dead.’

  ‘One can hope.’ Margie smiled grimly, holding up her hand for silence. She was dialling triple 0.

  ‘Yeah, it’s the boss,’ she said after giving the details. ‘Seems to be unconscious – probably dead.’ She listened for a moment more before hanging up. ‘Ambulance is on its way,’ she said.

  On legs that were shaking so much she could hardly control them, Val came downstairs to look at her husband. He didn’t appear to be breathing and she knew she should attempt some form of resuscitation, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so after that confession and all the horrible things he’d said. Wasn’t it better to let fate decide?

  ‘Should we get him a pillow or something?’ Margie said, breaking into her thoughts. ‘I don’t know anything about first aid.’

  ‘I’ve heard that moving a person can do more harm than good. Better wait for the experts. But you might fetch a blanket to keep him warm.’

  ‘OK,’ Margie said, oddly unmoved by the tragedy. ‘Then I could make us some tea while we’re waiting. I’m sure you can do with it.’

  Hot, sweet tea was made and they sipped it in silence because there was really nothing to say. From time to time they took a peek at Robert, who still hadn’t moved.

  It was a good twenty minutes before the paramedics arrived.

  ‘So sorry.’ The senior man hurried in, followed by his assistant. ‘But there’s never enough of us to go round. Too many urgent calls at the same time.’ He knelt to make a quick examination of Robert before replacing the blanket, covering his face this time.

  ‘Nothing we could have done for this one, anyway. Neck’s broken an’ I think his back may be, too. Must’ve been one hell of a fall,’ he said, glancing at the stairs. ‘We better inform the cops.’ Ryan and Chrissie arrived just as the ambulance was leaving. There were several police cars in the driveway and the house was a blaze of lights.

  ‘Oh, God, what is it?’ Chrissie said. ‘I hope nothing’s happened to Mum.’

  Her relief was so obvious when she heard it was Robert who was on his way to the morgue and not Val, that the police exchanged significant glances. Unfortunately, the officer in charge was Inspector Ian Jackson who had been at school with Robert and had known him for some years. From the way he was looking at Ryan through narrowed eyes, Chrissie was grateful that her cousin had a cast-iron alibi and couldn’t be suspected of having anything to do with her father’s demise.

  All the same, the inspector’s investigation was thorough and he grilled Margie for a long time concerning Val and her attitude towards her husband. Were they a loving couple or did she hear them quarrelling? Was Val always patient with her invalid husband? It was clear that he wanted Margie to tell him the marriage was less than perfect. Margie shrugged, professing ignorance. ‘I just work here,’ she said, dismissing his theories. ‘Not my place to wonder if they’re happy or not.’

  His sergeant meanwhile was measuring various distances from the lift to the stairs and from Robert’s office. Val had no idea what they were expecting to find. It didn’t help that Inspector Jackson had heard of the recent kidnapping, which only seemed to deepen his suspicions. In the end, it was some time before he could be satisfied that neither Val nor Margie had contributed to Robert’s death. He left, promising to see them all at the coroner’s inquest, and warning them all not to leave this present address until that was over.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  AT THE CORONER’S inquest on Robert Lanigan’s death, both Val and Margie had given their accounts of what happened and had gone to the back of the room to sit with Ryan and Chrissie. Everything seemed to be going smoothly enough until Inspector Jackson took the stand.

  ‘The deceased was lying on the floor in the hall at the foot of the stairs with his broken wheelchair beside him,’ he said, reading from his notes in a monotone. ‘I knew Mr Lanigan personally and it seems odd that such an accident could happen to a man familiar with the dangers of his upstairs environment. But we have no reason to suppose it was anything other than an unfortunate accident. Mr Lanigan had been confined to a wheelchair since the vehicle he was driving collided w
ith a truck in New South Wales but, in spite of his condition, he didn’t seem unduly depressed. His wife mentioned that he was in reasonable spirits as he expected eventually to regain the use of his legs. She hadn’t told him his doctors considered this unlikely. We have no reason to think he committed suicide by deliberately backing his chair to the stairwell or,’ he paused to look at Val, ‘any solid evidence to suppose that anyone pushed him.’

  ‘Thank you, Inspector.’ The coroner glanced at his watch. It was well after midday and his stomach was growling, reminding him that he needed lunch.

  ‘However,’ the inspector continued, raising his voice and earning himself a sigh from the coroner. ‘In the course of my investigation I saw little evidence that Mr Lanigan was going to be mourned or missed. Throughout all our conversations, Mrs Lanigan and her daughter remained dry-eyed. So I have to say this led me to wonder—’

  ‘We are not paid to wonder, Inspector.’ The coroner fixed him with a stern look. ‘We are here to deal with only the facts. And if you have no more facts to lay before us…?’

  ‘I don’t have any more facts. No. It’s just a feeling I have—’ The inspector had clearly hoped for a more sympathetic audience.

  ‘In the face of no further solid evidence, I must return a verdict of accidental death.’ And scarcely waiting for the formalities to be completed, the coroner banged his gavel and hurried from the room in search of lunch.

  ‘We’re lucky the old boy was starving, Mum.’ Chrissie watched him leave, hastening down the steps at the front of the courthouse. ‘I think Inspector Jackson was hoping to pin something on you.’

  ‘I’m just tired of the whole sorry business, Chrissie.’ Val sighed. ‘As I said at the inquest, I tried to catch the chair but, if I had, I wouldn’t be here to tell the tale. He was a heavy man and I would have been dragged down the stairs with him. But at least the inquest is over. Now we can arrange the funeral and get on with our lives.’

  ‘You do realize that Hunter’s Moon and the stables belong to you, Mum. Now you can do whatever you like and you don’t have to answer to anyone.’ She glanced at her telephone and saw there was a message from Sir Henry Wheeler, asking her to call him. ‘I wonder what’s up?’ she said with an anxious glance at Ryan. ‘I hope nothing’s wrong.’