Unfinished Business Read online

  “Charlie?” Kara’s voice sounded tiny and ridiculously full of hope.

  “I don’t think I’m wrong.”

  “Mum says you are.”

  “Well, she would, wouldn’t she.” I paused and sipped cautiously at my coffee but it tasted fine and was exactly the right temperature. Kara was a fast learner. “For starters, my partner and I both remarked at the time that your mother wasn’t particularly distressed when your sister went missing. Any natural mother would be prostrate at the thought of what might be happening to her child.” I frowned as I conjured up images of the woman’s unnatural self-possession fifteen years previously. “But you, Mrs. Webb, were almost as poised then as you are now.”

  “I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve but that doesn’t mean you have any idea what I feel inside. Can you even begin to imagine what it’s like?”

  Oh boy, could I. But I said nothing.

  She looked at me with an expression of unmitigated dislike. “No, you’re a man so I don’t suppose you can. We all bear these things differently, Mr. Hunter. Don’t slot me into one of your neat little pigeonholes and think you know it all.”

  At last, a genuine reaction from her. “I was new to CID at the time,” I said, “so I didn’t make as much of it as I should have. But I’ve been involved in dozens of similar situations since then, and even the most slapdash mother falls apart when a child goes AWOL. But I don’t recall even having to call a doctor to give you a sedative.”

  She sneered at me. “And that’s your evidence for supposing I know where Jas is?”

  “That and the fact that you gave yourself away just now.” She snorted smoke down her nose and said nothing. “We both heard you. And you’re frightened about something. You don’t want to talk about Jasmine.”

  “Do you have children, Mr. Hunter?”

  “One. A boy.”

  “If he disappeared and you managed to somehow put it all behind you, would you want strangers traipsing into your house and raking it all over?”

  ‘“Kara’s your daughter,” I said icily, “not a stranger.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Actually I don’t, but it’ll be easy enough to get to the bottom of this. Perhaps we’ll discuss it with your husband, see what he knows. What time is he due home?”

  “No!”

  I shrugged. “It’s your call.”

  “Charlie, I don’t think—”

  I cut off Kara’s protest by gently kicking her ankle again.

  “Oh, all right.” Mrs. Webb drew herself up to her full height, her eyes burning with resentment as they rested upon me. “I knew Jas was going to leave and I didn’t try to stop her. There, is that what you want to hear?”

  Monika and Igor were closeted together for most of the next morning, and Nadia was left to her own devices. Her head was as fuggy as ever and she had trouble keeping her eyes open. Igor remarked on it over lunch and, when the meal was finished, he insisted that she rest. He accompanied her and made gentle but hurried love to her, which was unusual for him. He devoted his full attention to everything he did, and she’d never known him to rush her in bed before. She failed to climax and he didn’t seem to notice. He was clearly preoccupied about something. Instead of causing him more problems, she supposed she ought to be supporting him but was too droopy-eyed to let the guilt bother her.

  “Rest now, my love. I have people waiting for me next door.” He nodded towards the connecting door to his study, his thick mane of iron-grey hair falling across faded blue eyes, which gentled as they caressed her face. “Take a pill and have a long sleep. You’ll feel much better when you wake up.”

  The last thing Nadia wanted to do was to take one of his wretched pills. They were starting to make her feel nauseated, and she worried that she was becoming addicted to them. But there was something about Igor’s attitude today that prevented her from protesting, and obediently she took the pill from his outstretched hand. He watched her swallow it, nodded in satisfaction, kissed her and disappeared through the connecting door.

  He had barely left her when Nadia’s stomach gave several violent lurches. She just made it to the en-suite bathroom before falling to the floor and being violently ill. She rested her head against the cool porcelain when she finished retching, wondering what could be wrong with her. Perhaps she was pregnant again. She loved her children but the thought of bearing another didn’t fill her with joy.

  Igor, on the other hand, would be delighted. He had three grown children from his first marriage and often lamented that he and Nadia hadn’t been blessed with more of their own. She sighed. That was one aspect of his character she would never understand. She knew family was very important to him—half the people who worked for him seemed to be related to him in some way—but she failed to appreciate why he felt he had a duty to overpopulate the world.

  When she was sure her legs would support her, Nadia got up from the floor and headed back to the bedroom. She paused when she heard raised voices emanating from Igor’s study—his, Viktor’s and Monika’s. Wondering what they could be arguing about, since few people dared to argue with Igor, she pressed her ear to the door. They were talking in Russian, of course, but perhaps she’d pick up a few key words.

  Her interest was piqued when she heard her own name but she struggled to understand in what context it was being bandied about. She wondered why they were talking so loudly, especially if they were discussing her. They knew she was next door asleep and would be bound to hear them. Although, of course, as far as they were concerned she’d taken a pill, which always knocked her out for the count. Was that why Igor had insisted she take one? No, that was ridiculous! Nadia felt disloyal for merely thinking such a thing. Igor only had her best interests at heart and no reason to want to keep her sedated.

  As she continued to listen, it took Nadia a moment to realize that she wasn’t falling asleep on her feet. How could that be? She’d swallowed the damned pill and the effect was usually instantaneous. Unless…?

  Unless being sick she’d brought it up with her lunch before it dissolved.

  She certainly felt better than she had for a while. Semi-alert and energized. But more confused than ever about what was happening to her. She pressed her ear closer to the door and gasped when she heard her sister’s name. Why on earth would they be discussing Kara?

  Cold fingers of fear gripped her, and she thought her legs were going to give out on her after all. Forgetting all about why she was wide awake, she gripped the door handle in an effort to remain upright and struggled to keep up with the conversation.

  Chapter Seven

  “Why, Mum?” Kara gaped at her mother, her words barely coherent. “Where did she go and why did you condone it?”

  “She went because she wanted to get away from him.”

  “Dad?”

  “Of course, who else? Just like you and Brett. Neither of you could wait until you were old enough to get away either.”

  “What changed?” I asked. “Why was she so desperate to get away that she abandoned her education? Was he abusing her?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  “Then what?” This was like getting blood out of a stone.

  “I honestly don’t know.” She blinked, unable to meet my gaze, and I knew she was lying.

  “They fell out big-time over something and Jas wouldn’t even look at him after that, much less talk to him. The atmosphere was terrible. You were too young to know much about it, Kara, but Brett picked up on it and took his sister’s side.” She looked down and fiddled with a loose thread on the sleeve of her cardigan. “I was stuck in the middle, as always.”

  “I gather your husband was strict with the girls, but that’s surely not enough to make one of them take flight and for you to condone it.”

  “Jas was going whatever I said.” Mrs. Webb glared at me, defying me to criticise her.

  “And I didn’t blame her.” She let out a deep sigh and lit yet another cigarette. “She met a woman at
the Island Sailing Club who offered her a job as a hostess on a super yacht and she made up her mind she was going to take it.”

  “And you let her go without checking it out first?”

  “I’d have gone with her if I could.” She gripped her coffee mug with both hands and stared off into the distance.

  “Un-fucking-believable,” I muttered under my breath.

  “You have no idea what it’s like,” she said. “You wouldn’t be so quick to judge if you did. We were living under a dictatorship, scared to open our mouths for fear of saying the wrong thing and putting him in one of his moods.”

  “What was the name of the yacht?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “The woman’s name?”

  “Angela Smith,” she said. I snorted. “That’s the name she gave when I met her after Jasmine told me about the job offer. I liked the woman and it seemed a good opportunity for Jas so I didn’t oppose her when she said she’d made up her mind to go.”

  “But you didn’t know anything about the boat, the woman’s background or who owned the yacht? She was an attractive girl, Mrs. Webb. Didn’t it occur to you that she might have been targeted because of her looks?”

  “Oh, she was well aware of her looks and what they could do for her, young as she was. She was streetwise and well able to take care of herself. Besides, it was the woman who insisted we meet, to put my mind at rest. She’d hardly do that if she wasn’t genuine.” She lifted her shoulders. “Anyway, if I’d said Jas couldn’t go, it wouldn’t have made a blind bit of difference and I would have lost her altogether. This way was better.”

  “But why the subterfuge? Why pretend she’d gone missing when you knew where she was all the time?”

  She glared at me as though I was a few cards short of a pack. “Because he would have tried to bring her back if he knew where she’d gone. Not because he wanted her back necessarily, but because he couldn’t have the world thinking there was contention within his perfect family unit.”

  “She’s right,” said Kara with obvious reluctance.

  “Jas didn’t want anything more to do with him, and that’s why I didn’t ask for more details about the job. That way he couldn’t get any information out of me if he found out I knew. All I insisted upon was that she keep in touch by phone and let me know she’s all right. If she needs to come home, she knows I’ll send her money or go and get her, no matter where she is.”

  “Well, that’s all right then.” I glanced at Kara, wondering how she was taking all this. Her expression was stunned, which was hardly surprising. I was having trouble believing her mother’s offhand attitude myself, and I’d been half expecting it. “So where is she now?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never known. She phones me occasionally, just to let me know she’s okay, but I never know when I’m going to hear. Sometimes it’s once a month, others times it can be more than three before she gets in touch.” She briefly shrivelled beneath my ballistic glare but quickly rallied. “She’s well out of it, that’s all I know.”

  “Is she married? Does she have children? Is she happy?” I rattled off the questions but Mrs. Webb merely shook her head.

  “We don’t talk about anything personal.”

  “What, you mean you don’t want to know if you’re a grandmother?”

  “She wouldn’t tell me if I did ask.”

  “So what do you talk about?”

  “Nothing of consequence.”

  I gave up. “And she’s never been back to see you all these years because…”

  “Because of her father, obviously. Whatever they fought about, she still doesn’t feel inclined to forgive and forget.”

  “You let Brett and me worry all these years.” Kara stared at her mother as though seeing her in a completely new light. “You didn’t encourage us to talk about her and I can see why now, but surely you must have realized what her disappearance did to us? How it tore us apart.” Tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes and trickled down her face. She dashed them impatiently aside. They made me want to pull her into my arms and make the hurt go away but Mrs. Webb seemed patently unmoved by her daughter’s distress. “How could you, Mum?”

  “It was for the best.”

  I kept quiet as Kara tried to get an explanation out of her mother that would make some sense to her. She was never going to succeed but it would take her a while to realize that. I kept Mrs. Webb in my line of vision as she spewed out reluctant halfhearted excuses, clearly anxious to get the conversation over with, not caring about anyone’s feelings other than her own.

  “Have you spoken to her since Brett died? Does she know?”

  I waited for what seemed like an eternity for Mrs. Webb to respond. I stared fixedly at her, willing her to lie if necessary and say yes. Then surely Kara, disillusioned, would give up her search for her sister.

  “No, she hasn’t called since it happened.”

  I swore beneath my breath. Seeing disillusionment and then the start of an inchoate anger spreading across Kara’s face, I decided it was time to leave.

  “I think we’re done here, Kara.” I threw a withering glance in her mother’s direction and stood up.

  “But I need to understand—”

  “Later,” I said. Mrs. Webb knew more than she was saying but I sensed she’d never let on what it was whilst Kara was there. “Come on, let’s go.”

  I almost frog-marched her from the room and she was still too stunned to put up much of a protest. I took her keys and pushed the driving seat back as far as it would go to accommodate my legs before starting the engine. We travelled for some distance in silence and I was content for it to be that way.

  “You okay?” It was a stupid question but we were almost back at the marina, and she was still in a catatonic state, staring straight ahead, and her silence was starting to concern me.

  “How did you know?”

  I shot her a look. “That your mother was holding back?” She nodded. “I didn’t for sure but her attitude didn’t ring true at the time Jas disappeared so I played on that hunch.”

  “What’s going on, Charlie?” She swivelled in her seat to look at me, eyes brimming with fresh tears she didn’t bother to swipe away this time.

  I didn’t respond immediately. Instead I concentrated upon negotiating the tight bends in the marina car park as I searched for a free space. Finding one on the third floor, I applied the handbrake and turned off the engine.

  “That’s a very good question but I think it would be best discussed over something stronger than tea. Come on.” I placed my hand beneath her elbow and steered her towards the nearby Wetherspoon’s pub. “It’s past midday so I guess it’s allowable. Besides, you’ve had a shock so in your case an infusion of alcohol definitely qualifies as medicinal.”

  I opened the pub door and found a small table that overlooked the quaint but somewhat dilapidated floating Chinese restaurant. The tide was low, and the growth of seaweed and barnacles clinging to its waterline highlighted its neglected state.

  “Now, what’s it to be?”

  I forced a vodka and tonic upon her, not letting on that it was a double. Then I sat back, sipping at my Guinness as I waited for the spirit to do its work.

  “Come on, Charlie,” she said when she’d consumed half her drink in record time. “You know more than you’re letting on, so give.”

  I shrugged. “I know as much as you do.”

  “But you have your suspicions.”

  I offered her a guarded half smile. “I’m still a detective at heart.”

  She opened her eyes wide. They were touchingly full of faith in my abilities.

  I only hoped that if it came to it, I’d be able to deliver. “The only thing I know for sure is that Jasmine is in contact with your mum, so she’ll find out about Brett that way, if she doesn’t already know.”

  “So you think I should give up looking for her, is that it?”

  “Well, you did only want to find her to tell her about your b
rother.”

  “No, it wasn’t only that. I need to understand, now more than ever.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you do.”

  “Will you still help me?” She didn’t look at me as she asked the question. Instead she watched several children on the veranda throwing bread to a pair of swans gracefully treading the murky water below.

  “Yes.”

  Her head snapped away from the swans and she met my gaze. “You will?” I nodded, almost tempted to smile at her incongruous expression. “But I thought—”

  “You thought I’d try and talk you out of it.”

  She fiddled with a spare drip mat on the table in front of her. “Something like that.”

  “I would have done, had it not been for the threat to Harry.”

  “Ah yes, there’s that of course.” She was the one who actually smiled. “I’m sorry I got you into this, Charlie, and endangered your son. That was never my intention.”

  “I know that.” I took a draught of my beer in order to avoid looking at her. Right now she seemed so vulnerable, so damned attractive, that I was having trouble keeping my mind on the job in hand. “So, let’s think about what we now know. Jasmine left with your mother’s blessing to take a job on a super yacht.”

  “Yes, if the woman she went with was telling the truth.”

  “I think this does have something to do with the sea,” I said.

  “Yes, I said that at the beginning. But why do you think the woman wanted Jasmine?”

  I’d been asking myself the same question. “Well, I think we must assume she and whoever she was working for knew a great deal more about your sister than she let on.”

  “What, you mean they knew she was dissatisfied and wanted to leave home?”

  “Very possibly. But don’t overlook the fact that if Jas wanted to disappear and remain hidden, then she needed to have your mother on her side.”

  “But Dad was the one who—”

  “She was angry with him, remember, and didn’t care if she hurt him.” I toyed absently with the menu card. “Jas would happily have left him to stew but didn’t want your mum wondering what had happened to her for the rest of her life.”