I
September,
2014
The
8:22 from Lytton-by-Sea was one of those awful two-carriage sprinters
but Chloe Jamieson had bigger things to worry about as her bleary
eyes gazed over the passing greenery - a field here, a clomp of trees
there.
There
was a message, she wiped her eyes, looked down and dismissed it.
Thirty-eight minutes till the first change.
He
didn't know she knew the address, Miles didn't, but why should he?
In all their time together on that island, the address of his wife's
parents had never entered the conversation - why should it have?
Melissa,
the bitch, she was supposed to be his wife and she'd flatly refused
to go with him to the new island once the dotcom company had folded,
he'd gone alone and had called her, Chloe, at the end of his tether.
They'd both tried to till the poor soil and make a go of it, she'd
had to have her hair cut and nails pared to cope, then they'd
eventually broken even, they were a partnership if not a relationship
and here he was now running back to this wife.
Fine
if she'd wanted him, if she'd put herself out just a little bit but
what had she ever done? She'd gone back home to Daddy and Step Mummy
as she called them - how infantile - the trust fund money had come
through on her thirtieth, she'd not divorced Miles but clearly saw no
further need for him.
And
he'd never forced the issue - that was the most galling part.
No
matter, she had the order of events clear in her mind today, she knew
how, where and when. The why was a given.
She
looked through the large window again and nearly lost it. Leaning
her head side-on to the headrest, she tried to snooze but the tears
were welling up.
The
bitch, she reflected for the umpteenth time. One thing she was quite
certain of, Chloe, was that this was one brutal day coming up for
Melissa O'Brien Forrester - she was going to be an entirely different
woman by the time the sun had set.
.o0o.
'The
only reason I agreed to see you again, Miles, was to confirm in my
mind, for once and for all, that my decision was the correct one.'
Melissa
gazed at him for precisely five seconds for maximum dramatic effect,
then delivered, 'It was.'
With
that, she turned on wobbly stilettos and marched right back through
the double doors which led up the side of the house to the stables.
He watched her disappear with as much hauteur as she could muster,
all 165cm of her, in those label-out garments he hadn't a clue about
the names of, except that they must, by definition, have been more
than he paid out in six months on his entire cost of living.
Hermes
scarf with her kagoul, walking up that stone path towards the muddy
surrounds of the stables - he could hear the clatter of heels and the
cursing - she looked the goods all right and he had to own she seemed
further away than ever.
He
looked down at himself and how he'd fallen. By the standards of
everyday folk, as Melissa had once been, his gladrags still stood up
- she'd have said they were three years out of date yet she'd been
the one who'd chosen them. His leather shoes were smart and
polished, his fine cords were well cut, his leather jacket was soft
and fitted him carelessly yet well. It was one of two outfits he
maintained and the rest was outdoor gear for the island.
Right,
so he hadn't expected her to acquiesce, to swoon, to reconsider today
but she knew he didn't need money, she knew why he was there and not
only did she not want, she'd been brash and rude, which he sheeted
home to the influence of Jacqueline O'Brien, Step Mummy.
He
was making money hand over fist now, the island was largely
self-supporting and he'd not ditched her and tied the knot with
Chloe. If there was nothing between them, then why on earth had they
married?
Three
years it had taken him on the island and there'd been three major
events which had set the enterprise on its feet.
The
first had been his friend from blogging days, Stephen Brown, who'd
put him straight on his first visit.
'No-one
raises crops of any worth on an island in a temperate climate, Miles.
The best and most profitable agricultural undertaking would be the
raising of sheep or other ovine creature. Salt-tainted pasture gives
a distinctive and delicious flavour to the meat.
Poor
soil, as on your island, would give the right sort of pasture for a
rare breed like the Manx Loaghtan - in the Manx language Loaghtan
means ‘mouse brown’. Of benefit is the fact that the breed
originates from an island off the UK coast.
Listen,
my friend, if you want to get anywhere with this, forget the tilling,
except for your domestic needs and go the rare breed route.'
He'd
done so but those already breeding on the Isle of Man were not
playing ball and it had been the devil of a job getting Devon
breeders to allow a couple of ewes for a substantial consideration,
at a time when funds were thin on the ground.
He'd
needed to up his game and do his own slaughtering, it wasn't
squeamishness but the quality of the cuts was the issue and so
mainland butchers had been brought in, on condition Miles would farm
some of their own breeds for their specialty shops, this had required
outhouses and then had come the tax man and so on and so on.
He
simply didn't have the time.
The
second major plus had then appeared, following his SOS message to her
- Chloe, his former dotcom 'secretary' so to speak and with the farm
now viable and Chloe taking care of the admin, they'd broken even and
then pushed ahead.
And
all the while, Melissa had not shown the remotest interest. The
grapevine said she wasn't even particularly besotted by anyone and
though word was she went out a fair bit, she seemed to surround
herself with girlfriends, to the point Chloe had suggested she
actually batted for the other side.
He'd
thought that one over but when they'd been together, it hadn't seemed
that way. That was partly what had given him the confidence to
visit her again.
The
third significant forward step had been a visit by two of his Swiss
contacts from the dotcom era and they put it to him that if the
island could not be set up as a tax haven in itself, it could at
least be a haven for those needing a tax haven, i.e. they could
conduct business from there ... for a consideration.
Chloe
was against it, reasoning that as the two of them were already
turning over a pretty penny, why complicate things? When she'd
heard the amount of the 'considerations', she'd quietly urged him to
vet each potential denizen of their island carefully.
'You
vet them,' he'd told her.
And
she had.
She'd
brought the conversation around to the two of them a few times
without pressing the matter and he'd not taken up the issue in all
that time. She wondered if there was something wrong with her.
There
was.
As
he looked across at her in what was essentially their farmhouse main
room, sipping coffees, sprawled out in their raffia chairs after the
earlier spit-roasted side of beef and now overimbibed on the
mainland's local brew, he'd wondered about it himself.
She
was not unpersonable, Chloe but she was blonde. Well, not so much
blonde but that sort of fair-hair with dark streaks and
unfortunately, she resembled one of his former disasters in
appearance. Unfair to Chloe because she was really something -
she'd changed from a slightly well fed but cheerful soul to a
compact, superfit and sinewy sight for sore eyes and he'd had to
suppress memories of Louise.
Damned
stupid really and yet she was just as bad - she'd always shaken her
head and advised him to get off it, that she didn't rightly know what
she wanted herself, that she'd look at those things once they were
more stable on the island.
He'd
tried to suggest that if she ... well ... if she wanted to bring
someone else onto the island - she'd cut him short and had gone to
bed.
She'd
once asked what his intentions were and all he could do was talk
Melissa, without once seeing any anomaly in that. That had been the
only overt annoyance she'd shown and it had woken him up to someone
else's feelings.
They'd
thrown themselves into work next day and that had been that.
Until
a few days ago.
He'd
always kissed and held her though - it wasn't that he was physically
detached and what upset her most was that he obviously wanted her,
she could feel that - but then that withdrawal and mental detachment
always followed.
That
was the part that was hard to take. She'd decided to push it a bit -
well quite a lot actually. Knocking on his door once they'd retired
for the night, this crossed a line which had been unspoken thus far
but he assumed both knew of it and she certainly did.
Now
here she was in slippers and robe, she discarded both and climbed in
beside him, looking into his eyes.
He
looked back, not angrily, not in fear, he actually smiled and
beckoned her over. 'Major statement, Chloe.' She didn't answer.
He held her close and she felt more natural than Melissa ever had.
'I have to visit her, have to find out, have to know for sure -'
'I
was going to suggest it.'
'I've
been so unfair to you.' He explained Louise and could feel her
relax, rather than tense up. 'Speak, Chloe.'
'I
thought there was someone else. Most men the other side of forty
would see what they had on their hands. Would this Louise remain
between us?'
'No,
only Melissa. I have to know the score, there's nothing else I can
do or say until I do.'
'Then
go quickly, in the next few days and tell me one way or the other.'
'If
I stay with her, if she remains my wife, what of you? Could we still
work togeth -'
'No.
You know we couldn't - it would be one of her stipulations anyway.'
'That
ups the ante.'
'I
don't see why. Any man of decency would know he'd have to decide and
I'm only interested in a man of decency. I've seen too many of the
others.'
.o0o.
Now
he was standing on those white tiles of the side foyer, inwardly
fuming at Melissa, the utter cheek, the lack of grace.
Nothing
could be done now, he wasn't going to demean himself by running after
her - he knew her games - but if he walked out through the house, out
to the gravelled area, she'd be watching from the stables and that,
aside from the solicitor's letters, would be that.
He
still wanted her, that was the tragedy here. She did things to his
mind Chloe could never, nor could any other woman. And he expected
she still harboured feelings for him somewhere but their fallout over
their future direction, aided on her side by her trust fund, on his
side by his headstrong nature - that had done for them.
He
looked at the double doors, stared at them, then raced through, up
the path two steps at a time, jumping from grassy patch to grassy
patch in the mud until he was at the sidedoor to the stable.
It
was locked. It shouldn't have been. It never had been in the days
he'd spent here.
He
turned the handle and pushed again, it gave slightly but the other
side there was something blocking it, probably a sandbag or bale of
hay or whatever. He pushed a bit more and it moved, whatever it
was, which gave him about 40cm and wasn't going to give any more.
Should
he be doing this? If she'd put it there, was his trying to break in
now going to be seen as an act of aggression?
He
called her name.
And
again.
He
pushed and the upper half of the door moved enough for him to slip
through but he didn't want his jacket messed and there was nowhere to
hang it out here. Taking it off, he reached inside the stable, felt
along the wall, hung it on something protruding, he now forced his
way through and looked down on the crumpled body of his wife.
.o0o.
Frank
O'Brien was not the type to reflect all that much in the dingy office
he could have renovated or moved from any time in the past eight
years.
Awash
with paperwork as it was, his little MOT business had expanded as
he'd kept up with the latest automotive technology and he'd employed
the right graduates - the new vehicles were almost an apprenticeship
in themselves and he was beyond new learning now.
Wiping
his hands on smart new overalls, where once they'd have been grubby
and grease-flecked, he grunted. He was doing all right but his
daughter was turning her nose up now at that which had got her where
she was.
He
was annoyed. Educated at Woodburn Hall, she'd come through, perhaps
not with flying colours but she'd come through, she'd married and
then the man had got it into his head to drop the tech, which at
least made money for little physical effort and tried the farmer's
life.
OK,
he could respect that, he had to admit the man had made a good fist
of it by all accounts but the issue was - it was happening without
his daughter. Headstrong was Melissa and not grown up enough.
Look, if she'd not wanted him at the start, then she'd fooled her
father but this project had been mooted and had ended up in an
evening of hard words, including those about his own new fiancee.
Frank
had ordered Miles from the house. Silly thing to do, silly and
Melissa had had that triumphant gleam in the eye. Why? In
heaven's name, why? There'd been no secret lover he could see.
And why did she want to remain at home with the two of them? He was
even charging her rent to hurry her out but she'd dug in and paid it
until he'd relented.
And
it didn't help that Forrester had allowed his part-time secretary to
come onto the island with him, so he discovered on the day the family
had been invited there and Melissa had refused.
Maybe
if Chloe had been built unattractively but no, she was a fair-haired,
curvacious cutie in her mid-30s, wasn't she? And then, on top of
that, the man didn't even seem to want her and kept pestering Melissa
in the days following.
So
here was Miles visiting, probably with another offer to come to the
island and he, Frank, had heard recently that Miles was not doing
half badly for himself. For an unworthy moment, he thought the man
probably better off without his daughter.
Also,
Melissa wasn't to know this but there wasn't a lot left in that fund
of hers, there'd been certain ... difficulties ... which had required
... liquidity ... at the time.
Frank
O'Brien stroked his chin and thought. Melissa was cramping their
lives, Jacqueline and him. Sure he loved his daughter but she
wasn't doing anything, wasn't going to the island, wasn't divorcing
Forrester and the familiar way she could just climb into bed with
Jacqueline and him - that had to end before someone talked.
Two
years younger than Melissa herself, he'd expect hell to pay over
Jacqueline and yet it had not once been an issue for his daughter.
Melissa kept to herself in the house and ... well ... did nothing.
Then
she'd go out in the evening.
.o0o.
Miles
looked down - she'd been shot in the back of the head.
He
dropped to his knees and uncurled her on the floor, onto her back.
Surprise on the face, she hadn't seen it coming of course. Killer
probably still here but now he took her in his arms and everything
from the last three years came out.
.o0o.
Frank
saw him cross his window on the driveway, something agitated about
the man and then came the rap on the door.
He
went to the door, Miles told him to put his boots on and come, he
did, they went together up to the stables, he saw and lost it for the
best part of an hour whilst Miles stayed outside.
Eventually
Frank came outside and nodded, they went back down the drive to the
house, took off their boots as if nothing had happened, came through
and neither knew how to emote, relate, what to do.
Frank
walked over, got two glasses, grabbed the whisky, sloshed two and
handed Miles one. They knocked them back.
They
did it again, then looked at one another.
'Why
haven't we called the police?' asked Miles. 'Why haven't we raised
the alarm?'
'You
know why - I'm satisfied it wasn't you, you know it wasn't me.
Jacqueline's in Durham. Where's this Chloe of yours?'
Forrester
drew his breath in sharply. 'She's on the island. She banked on
this not working today with Melissa.'
'You
both planned this.'
'Not
in any way. You had your chance too. That kind of comment gets us
nowhere.'
'Police
I suppose. You'll help me get her down here now?'
'Let's
go.'
.o0o.
The
moment they entered those stables again, one horrific development
stood out a mile. There was a second bullet hole, like the other but
this time in the forehead.
O'Brien
swore and cried out savagely, Miles just stared at his wife's face.
They
rigged up a camp bed that was usually left up there in case and
carried her down the pathway, leaving her in state in the hallway on
the tiled floor, Miles closed her eyes while her father went for a
sheet, felt that to be callous and brought her duvet.
They
went into the front room again - two whiskies were poured and downed.
'The
second shot,' muttered O'Brien, standing in the bay of the window.
'We
never heard it down here - it's not as if we were being noisy or
anything.'
'Killer's
still up there.'
'Frank,
we really need to bring the police in now.'
'I
wouldn't trust them not to bungle it and then we'd never know. The
killer can't stay in the stables forever, he can't go round the back,
except to one place I know - no one outside family knows of it. He
can't cross the fields in the light, as you know -'
'The
wood?'
'Too
sparse - he'd expect a party to comb the area. I'm calling in two
people I know - bring the phone over, Miles. I'm watching the
stable.'
.o0o.
'You
know what you have to do?' he asked two ashen faces.
They
nodded and knew they were gearing up for a kill. They knew Frank
well enough, they all went to their positions, O'Brien and his oldest
friend took the stables.
The
most amazing part was that the horses hadn't reacted, hadn't bolted,
hadn't responded with anything other than indifference. Some of them
now looked over, then went back to what they'd been doing.
.o0o.
It
was two hours later that they gathered in the dusk in the main room
again.
The
one named Dave stated the obvious, 'Where's Jacqueline, Frank? And
why haven't you called the police?'
'We
will now. I take full responsibility for the delay. We needed to
give this a chance.'
'And
we found nothing.'
'No.'
'Frank,
call the police, call Jacqueline.'
'I'll
not call Jacqueline.' He took the phone from his pocket and punched
in the number, spoke to the desk sergeant for some minutes and then
put it back in its holder. 'I can do some ready meals if that's all
right. Any preferences?'
'You
can eat?'
'Don't
start that, Dave. Of course we have to eat - I'll microwave up some
meals, all right?'
'I'll
do it,' said Miles and went through to the kitchen.
II
October,
2014
Chloe
brought through the dinner on the tray, he poured the wine.
'It's
astounding,' she burst out, 'I have to break my silence.'
'I
know you do.'
'They
couldn't trace either bullet, they were from the same gun, none of
you caught or saw anyone, the police could make out no tracks.
Miles, it looks inside to me and you know who I'm thinking.'
'It
couldn't have been Frank himself unless he had a pistol rigged up and
took it down later but there are things against that. For a start, I
was leaping up those steps and could see anyone going back down the
driveway. I also heard nothing. While I was in there with her, no
one else moved and then I went straight down to the house where he
was. That second round was put in her forehead in the meantime-'
'And
you heard didn't hear that either?'
'Had
to have been silenced. The first shot must have been the instant she
got through the door, before I was even running up those steps, the
second while we were down in the house of course.'
'I
wish you'd explored behind the stables, not left it to Frank.'
'I
didn't, that's all there is to it.'
'Why
not?'
'I
couldn't have stood finding you there.'
'Pardon?'
She placed her drink on the table.
'You
were there, Chloe. At least I don't know if you were at the house
but you certainly came to the mainland, you travelled by the sprinter
and you took the main line to the town. You were in the Travellers
Arms. You knew I'd booked in there too, just in case it all went
wrong.'
'I
know. If she'd rejected you or you'd rejected her, I'd have been
there for you that evening. If you hadn't appeared, I'd have gone to
the house.'
'What
and made a scene?'
'Something
like that. She'd have paid for her last three years.'
'You're
speaking of a woman who has been shot dead - my wife.'
'I
know, I'm sorry. I had to be there, Miles. I arranged to meet
Jacqueline there.'
'What!
She was meant to be in Durham.'
'She
was due in Durham all right but she squared it there and rang me back
to say she'd be at the Travellers mid-morning and we could talk it
through. She'd phone and ask Frank how it had gone, then tell me.
He couldn't know she was calling from town.'
'And
did she phone Frank?'
'Not
while she was with me.'
'And
you say she went out only in the evening.'
'Yes.'
'Where?
That's the only place in town.'
'She
didn't say but I felt she was going to the house or close to it.'
'You
do understand how vital that evidence is you've withheld.'
'No,
she was with me, she couldn't have been the one at the time it came
out that it happened. So I didn't see the point. No gun was found,
Jacqueline was not accused.'
'You
can't do that. If the police had been told, they'd have swarmed into
her room, her car, everywhere, checked Durham which you just accepted
from her lips and they would have gone through the stables with a
fine tooth comb. Frank and his good ole boys had no hope of doing
that, which is why the police were so peeved. I thought it might
have been you. You'd have had your reasons.'
'Jacqueline
truly was with me that afternoon.'
'Chloe
- are you protecting someone?'
'I
swear I'm not, I play a lone hand, Miles, as I always have done.
Too many people ascribe negative things to that. Yes, I saw the way
you did things when we were working at the dotcom and wanted that for
me, then the way the island began to look - well yes, I thought a bit
of that action would be nice because it wasn't going anywhere for me
at that time, yes I thought I'd like you to be mine but no, I didn't
kill her. I'm not saying I'd have turned Jacqueline in but I am
saying she couldn't have done it at that time - the evening maybe.
I think the police need to look elsewhere for the culprit.'
'Two
culprits.'
'Might
have been.'
'Have
you ever made contact with Melissa?'
'Yes.'
'Oh
my goodness, am I the only one who doesn't know what's going on?'
'I
did speak with Melissa once. It was on King's Nympton station.
You'd sent me down there for the insemination, she was there about
the Tarka Line and the rolling stock - for her father of course.'
'And
you recognized her?'
'From
your photos, yes. Actually, she saw I recognized her and asked, I
told her, we talked. She was non-committal about you, not angry, not
upset but that upset me and she saw it. We can hide feelings if we
want but she didn't seem to be suppressing it. At that point we had
projects on and if I'd told you, you'd have gone to her. I wanted
you in a stronger position first and I wanted to be in a stronger
position with you.
Look,
you can tell me I had no right but you must see I was looking out for
you and she was showing you very little loyalty. We spoke more about
Jacqueline and Frank and she gave little hints that it might have
been closer between the two women - that's why I told you what I did.
I
went up to her to kiss her - I wanted to know and maybe it's me, how
I look or maybe it was that I was with her husband but she was not
overly affectionate. That means not a lot but even so - I feel that
Jacqueline is the key figure in what goes on in that place. Any
woman in that position would be, Miles - again, don't read bad things
into that. Jacqueline might have wanted Melissa for herself, as a
counterpoint to Frank who's not exactly the most lively man.'
'If
she was preventing my wife and I being together, then it doesn't
matter what other factors are involved - that wasn't on.'
'I
know that. It might have been spite.'
'Did
she kill Melissa?'
She
sighed. 'I said no. I can't see it. She was playing a close game
with me at the Travellers. Earlier, we talked over morning tea.'
'When?'
'Some
time after 11:00.
'She
came back late evening and slept with me and I can confirm she's
AC/DC. She made moves which were those of someone quite used to it
all - I allowed some of them. I'm not both ways but it wasn't
nauseating. In fact, that was the moment I decided it had to be all
or nothing with you and me.'
'We
haven't talked that out yet.'
'I
expect your arms to do the talking.'
.o0o.
Next
morning, there was a text from Jacqueline. She'd left Frank.
'Let's
get her down here,' said Miles. 'Send her a text and tell her we'll
put her up for a while.'
'Are
you crazy? She's trouble. I have something to protect now.'
'We're
going to get closer to an explanation if she's here.'
She
looked at him. 'I don't want her drawing us, drawing you, into
anything. I know her, Miles and she can do those things.'
'She
won't draw me - I think she killed my wife and I want to meet her.'
'To
accuse her.'
'No,
to observe her, talk to her. Let's make a pact that anything she
says to either of us alone we'll tell the other later.'
'I'm
willing enough. What I fear is there'll be some things you won't
tell me.'
'I'll
tell you everything. Did last night not tell you anything?'
'Yes
it did.' She mellowed. 'I don't want to lose that.'
III
Jacqueline
was one of those women who could destroy a man, thought Miles - and
know how to deal with women as well.
The
face was not one everyone would have called beautiful but many would
- it was quite broad and the lips were full - well yes, she was
beautiful. The body followed suit, nothing particularly outstanding
in the body but it suited the face. A man of little discernment
would immediately think, 'Bonkable, bonkable,' and he'd follow her
round like a lapdog, begging for a bone.
A
man of some refinement who knew women would measure his response,
attempt to converse but every so often he'd steal a glance and that
glance would say, 'I have to bonk her.' Some women were just like
that - there was no choice, you just had to have sex.
So
light on her feet, everything about her was light, from the trainers
and the light-blue jeans to the very feminine pink top with the hint
of lace - she had this habit of slightly grinning. It could have
been just the shape of her lips, something she could hardly control
but he got the impression she was amused by the effect she had and
she was as calm, as cool as a cucumber and the voice was sultry.
Too
light to be sultry actually but oh so feminine and that's what drove
men wild. Unassuming to, dressed modestly but allowed those breasts
to press against the light fabric, not expensive fabric either but
'affordable', another major plus with me.
He
imagined there were men who could have resisted, especially those
with femmes-fatale of their own but he wasn't among the unaffected,
Miles and she knew it in an instant, doing the quick lip-licking and
going back to the smile, noting his involuntary closing of the eyes
and that slightest of winces.
Melissa
would have had no chance and her ultra-fashionability was most
certainly down to Jacqueline. She was beautifully and simply
attired, whereas Melissa had been simply OTT - probably Jacqueline's
little joke on her.
Now
Miles was preparing to show her the island, she'd brought wellies in
stylish multicolour which worried the sheep, the jacket she'd donned
was casually open at the neck - he was struggling something awful and
she was perfectly aware of it.
'We
never saw much of each other, Miles.'
'You
were busy, so was I. Plus you like women, Jacqueline, according to
Chloe.'
'Ah,
the Travellers. I like both.'
'Why
Frank?'
'I
could ask Chloe - why you?'
'You
went out in the afternoon from the Travellers.'
'What
makes you say that?'
'You
were seen.'
'By
Chloe?'
'No,
I knew she'd cover for you.'
'You're
fishing. I went out in the evening for a while.'
'Why
did you not phone Frank?'
'Why
the third degree?'
'You
knew this script before you even arrived.'
She
shrugged. 'I didn't kill him. It might have been a professional.
Silencer.'
'One
of Frank's friends?'
'You're
quick, Miles. I like that in a man.'
'What
are your plans now? You know you're welcome here as long as you
would welcome Chloe if you were mine.'
'If
I were yours.'
She
grinned at that and he had to fight the rising feeling, force it down
again. That smile had hit him amidships and he pleaded. 'Please
don't,' he sighed, 'I see how Frank would have had no defences and I
don't either.'
'You
have Chloe.'
'Yes
and that's how it will be. I also think you had a hand in Melissa's
death but don't know how.'
'Hostile.'
'Come
here.' She stepped up and he kissed her cheek quickly. 'That's how
hostile I am. All right, I accept you didn't actually kill her.'
'I
loved her. She came to love me.'
'Chloe
gave me the fine detail of that sort of love.'
'I
see. Does that trouble you?'
'Not
really. Only if it meant Melissa decided on that basis not to return
to me. She was so ... disdainful towards me. I think you whispered
many things in her ear over the three years.'
'Eighteen
months.'
'Whatever.'
'She
wasn't right for you, Miles. Sorry. I know I have no right to play
god over your marriage but she wasn't right. I didn't poison her
mind against you if that's what you're thinking, I swear it, in fact
I told her to go to you but I also made my arms inviting. You've not
tumbled to any of this yet?'
'You're
not guiltless, Jacqueline.'
'No,
did I say I was? Nor is Frank. Let's walk a bit harder. I'm
getting chilly.'
.o0o.
Along
the track back to the farmhouse, he asked, 'Why did you leave him?'
'He
thinks I did it. He's sure of it. I think he did it. In a way,
this island is sanctuary.'
'He
thinks, you think. Explain.'
'Frank
saw me there - he'd told me to stay away. I observed but from a
distance. This was soon after I found out he's bankrupt. That
wasn't why I left - he can earn pretty quickly with all his
projects. I can earn too if I have to. It's not the money - it's
the way he went bankrupt, the manner, raiding the larder - that's a
bad sign in a man. So there was that and my suspicion of his role
in the killing.'
'His
own daughter. Let's stop here just a moment.'
She
turned and faced him. 'I don't know for sure how but Melissa found
out about her trust fund - not from me although it looks as if I'm
the cause of everything. She never heard it from me - I found it out
after the murder - that much you can check with him yourself.
After
her murder, he went to pieces and began to get a bit - physical. I'm
not crying violence, I don't do that but it was getting tense, risky
in fact. I had to get out and talk to someone. So here I am. May
we go back inside? It really is cold and there's Chloe to consider.'
'You
were always for her, no?'
'What
woman is for another woman where there's a man involved? I thought
Melissa was wrong for you and you briefly crossed my mind at one
point. Then I met Chloe and thought she'd do for you. Shall we?'
They
stepped through, Chloe was on the divan, reading a book by the lamp.
He poured drinks for the three of them and that's how they greeted
the dusk.
'Will
Frank try to get you back?' he asked.
'I
can't see him as the type to come and get me.'
'Which
leaves you where, Jacqueline?'
'I'm
not that hard a person, I won't take him to the cleaners, especially
in his current situation. We'll have to make contact over the
papers.'
'You're
so unemotional about it,' cut in Chloe.
'I've
had my cry but some of the things he said - they were a bridge too
far. I didn't love him enough to ride those out. I'll stay with my
sister, find a place near her, work won't be hard to come by.' She
sipped on her drink. 'Those huts at the south end, the ones with the
lights on - they're your - your lodgers?'
'We
have three at present - they do their thing, they wander about, they
cater for themselves although we supply some things.'
'The
helicopter must set you back.'
'The
boats did too. It's not a lot more but it makes it easier for the
guests. They want, they pay, it pays for Tel.'
'That's
all he does?'
'He's
in a few projects - the greenhouses are one of them.'
'The
noble weed, yes?'
'Hardly
- the guests don't like - complications with the law. Jacqueline,
how important were the horses to her?'
'To
Melissa? Very. It was her relaxation, her escape route - from all
of it.'
'She
could have had them here.'
'She
didn't think so, she never asked. I think you have to forget about
the possibilities there, Miles. I was close to her. She wasn't
going back to you. Are you two going to marry?'
'We've
discussed it. Jacqueline, why have none of the hard questions been
asked?' She was deadly quiet. 'I mean, there's Frank's delay in
calling the police, there was you observing,' Chloe shot him a look,
'there was the Travellers business - there were so many things. Now
I can understand why none of the parties want it spoken of or looked
at but why were the police so happy not to ask the tough questions?'
'They
did. There were no answers.'
.o0o.
In
bed, out of earshot of Jacqueline who was billeted at the far end of
the farmhouse, he turned to Chloe and said, 'I'm not happy about any
of this.'
'I
know.'
'Well?'
She
sighed. 'I didn't lie to you. Look carefully at what I said. I did
leave some things out though. Jacqueline was there. I was there. I
jumped at the chance when Jacqueline suggested it - I - I did want to
know. It was concerned with my future, ours, I wanted to know. I
couldn't tell you that because it put her and me at the scene and the
police don't know the full story - even now. Frank doesn't want
eyes drawn to him. What are you going to do, stir it all up again?'
'There's
a thing called right and wrong, Chloe.'
'Right
and wrong. Yes.'
'How
important do you think trust is between two people, Chloe?'
'Very.
I know where you're going with this. And I've been betrayed before
too and never wish it on anyone again. I took a position that I'd
not mention it but if it came up, I wouldn't lie, as I haven't now.'
'That
makes me uneasy. We've been together three years and still we don't
know one another, not the way two people should. Not the way I want
with my woman - full on or nothing. Call it black and white but to
me, my woman is either my friend or my enemy. I don't want her
lying to shield me or to shield herself. If you make a mistake, you
tell me and I hope it works the other way. I put a lot of store by
trust, otherwise it's not worth it in my book.'
She
lay back and stared at the ceiling. 'I hear what you're saying but
we're human. If we say to ourselves, 'I will not lie,' then the
only other way is to leave things out or skip over it. You can't
have total openness on all points - you don't even do that yourself.
Sometimes it's good you don't. If I wasn't looking so good one day,
telling me might not be your best choice.'
'It's
not just trust.'
'Oh?'
'It's
loyalty too. When I went to her again, you saw that as a breach of
loyalty to you.' He was looking at her and she looked away. 'Do
you want to marry?'
'Is
that a proposal?' she smiled.
'It
will be when I can be sure you won't do to me what was done to me
before.'
She
lay back again, thinking how to put it. 'I'll tell you what I know,
how I see it. Jacqueline and I both agreed Melissa was abusing her
position. Frank felt that too and Jacqueline did stick some
spanners in the works so Melissa would not go back to you. Funny
you should speak of loyalty because Melissa was not. I don't know
what had passed between the two of you but while she was not
unfaithful that way as far as we know, except with Jacqueline, she
was definitely not loyal. She would never take your part in
conversations according to Jacqueline. You can say that was
Jacqueline's doing and she was certainly guilty but Melissa needed
little persuading. Now why?'
'Go
on.'
'The
island is in both your names as far as I know, which also made me
angry and as we made it work for us, for you -'
'No,
for us.'
'Thank
you. As the value increased, I obviously wanted more and more to be
your partner. Not just for the value but because it was a going
concern and I needed that sort of order and security. So I had
every reason to wish her dead. That's when she started on at
Jacqueline - in bed, you understand - that half the island was hers,
that anything you were making was half hers. She was shaping up for
trouble.'
'She
mentioned none of that to me today, Jacqueline. She just said
Melissa didn't want to be with me and when she went up to the
stables, she hadn't mentioned it and I think she didn't expect me to
follow. I think that was to be the end of it.'
'No,
Miles. She very much expected you to follow - any man besotted with
her would follow and that's probably what she was testing. Why did
you not?'
'Because
she sounded so final.'
'You
just accepted it like that?'
'Maybe
I wanted to by then. Maybe I was so shocked by how she was talking.
Maybe there was you.'
'If
you'd followed her, you might have been killed too. Whoever killed
her took the shot from the hiding place through the high window -
that person had a view of the door.'
'Doesn't
explain the second shot.'
'No
- no it doesn't.'
.o0o.
Jacqueline
awoke, scrambled for her phone and there was an SMS. She turned on
her back and punched in the reply. Then she sent a second message,
to which she got a reply in under a minute. No one was sleeping
tonight.
She
quite liked Miles but he was no match for Chloe ... or her. She
couldn't quite get a handle on the guy and usually she could. Frank
saw him as weak-spined but she knew he wasn't that. To get the
businesses up and going took something and a few times she'd seen a
glassy stare to his eyes. It was more that he preferred not to
engage until he wanted - well everyone did that but he seemed to do
it as a strategy and a more dangerous thing - he was a thinker.
She
still wasn't sure how slow a thinker he was but he did think things
through and weigh them up. Chloe would have to watch her step.
Tomorrow
was going to be fun - she'd push it a bit and see what gave, there
were ears waiting to hear her report.
IV
A
quick look at the bedside clock showed it was 09:30, Miles woke
Chloe, she rubbed her eyes, yawned like a kitten then looked at him.
It looked dull outside.
Then
she looked at the clock. 'Oh my goodness. Hope Jacqueline's had
breakfast.'
He
went to the washroom and did what was needed, she took her turn while
he dressed and checked the kitchen. Nope, Jacqueline hadn't eaten -
probably still asleep.
Wandering
down to her end of the house, he called her name.
Reaching
her open door, it was clear no one was in there, so he went back to
their bedroom and told Chloe he was going for a wander. She was busy
with the necessaries.
On
the patio, he looked out over the island with its obstacle course of
hundreds of sheep - a misty day, maybe 5 degrees all up and requiring
a parka. You'd have to really love sheep, he thought.
It
was a strangely shaped island - they'd agreed to call it pork-chop
shaped. The narrow southern or 'bony' end, where the guests stayed
was not quite a kilometre distant, the curved bay facing the shore
which was maybe 10km away - their 'meaty' end was higher and had the
farmhouse and outhouses. There were two blind spots due to the
undulations but the bulk of the island was visible from here.
He
saw movement at the far end, five in accommodation just now and two
out and about but of Jacqueline - nothing. No matter, he realized
she was here to find out as much she could until asked to leave so he
expected her to be in the outhouses rummaging around, getting a line
on their enterprises. They'd prepared for her.
He
went around the back to each of the three huts in turn and that was
puzzling indeed. There were signs of her presence in the third as
the earth samples had been disturbed and she may have taken a sample.
On
the east side, there were a number of places they'd dug, in full view
of the mainland but on the west side, there were only two paths down
and therefore two places where there had been disturbance.
A
nasty thought struck him about the near path. He crossed the few
hundred metres and reached the top of the woodwork, lying where he
knew he could observe and not be observed and what he saw shocked
him.
