by W. Soliman
“Later, Kara,” I said. She glowered at me but resumed her seat. I wanted to hear what Sally had to say before she had the chance to think better of it. “Go on, Sally.”
“Well, she was very excited about something. She reckoned she’d got it all figured out at last and that she’d soon be out of this dump, as she referred to it, forever.”
“And you never said!” Kara was getting all agitated again.
“Sorry, but I was sworn to secrecy. She only told me because she didn’t want to disappear and have me thinking something had happened to her.”
“She didn’t care what we thought then.”
“I think she did, but I also think she was too preoccupied to worry about anything other than getting away. Anyway, I said I’d keep quiet for a day or two, provided she got in touch with your parents and let them know she was safe. Whatever her beef with your father, and God alone knew she had enough reasons to resent him, they didn’t deserve to spend however long she planned to stay away not knowing if she was dead or alive. Besides, I knew she’d be reported missing, obviously, and that the police would get involved and I didn’t fancy lying to them indefinitely.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Everyone does it. We kind of expect it.”
“Yes, but even so.”
“Where did she go?”
“London, but I don’t know who with, she wouldn’t say. All I knew was she’d met someone who was going to make her rich and happy. She said she’d never have to be dominated by anyone ever again.”
“Those were her exact words?”
“More or less.”
“Sal, why haven’t you said anything before now?” Kara asked.
“Well, because no one asked me. Not straight-out, anyway.”
Kara looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Can’t argue with that, I suppose.”
“I tried to raise the subject with your family but was made aware, in no uncertain terms, that it was too painful for discussion.” She paused. “I told Brett though, years ago.”
“I see.” I didn’t, though, not really, and needed to clarify a point or two. “Now, let’s see if I’ve got this straight. Your best friend met some man but she didn’t tell you his name, or where she met him, or anything at all about him.” I treated her to one of my infamous hard stares. “And you didn’t think that might be a tad dangerous and try to talk her out of it?”
Sally’s face flooded with colour but she stood her ground. “Have you ever tried to stop a tidal wave? When Jas made her mind up, there was nothing anyone could say to deter her.”
“Must be a family failing.” I flicked a sardonic look Kara’s way.
“I prefer to think of it as a positive quality.”
“Well, I think we’ve got it all straight now. Thanks for your time, Sally.”
“Just one thing,” Sally said. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. You said just now that Jas went off with a man. Well, it definitely wasn’t a man she was going to London to meet. I wouldn’t have let her do that, not without leaving me a contact number at the very least. No, Jas made it very clear that her appointment was with a woman.”
With the wind in her face and a brisk breeze pushing the boat smoothly through the water, Nadia felt almost normal for the first time since Brett’s death, heralding a fresh bout of guilt. How could she dismiss her brother from her thoughts so readily? But it was such a perfect day for sailing, the wind exactly right, and somehow she couldn’t remain sad. Her children were like monkeys, running all over her forty-foot ketch in response to her instructions. Saskia was already a competent sailor, just as Nadia herself had been at the same age. Anton sat in the cockpit, alert but unobtrusive. He said little and each time they tacked he moved without needing to be told. She tilted her face until she was looking up at the sky, enjoying the familiar sensation of the wind burning her cheeks, thinking this was a far better way to assuage her grief than filling herself with Igor’s pills. She didn’t understand why she hadn’t tried it before and, inside her head, she dedicated this perfect day on the water to Brett.
Only reluctantly did Nadia turn towards home when the children tired and started to bicker. The bridge that would let them back into the marina lifted on the hour. If they hurried they would just make the four o’clock. By the time she slid the Nadia into her berth, Saskia was curled up asleep in Anton’s lap. Her eyes clashed with the serious young Russian’s and they smiled at one another. Nadia then returned her attention to berthing the boat, instructing Sergei to leap ashore and slip the lines over the bollards when she was close enough to the pontoon for him to do so safely.
Anton drove them home, pressing the remote inside the car to open the electronic gates to their massive detached house. As soon as they stopped by the front door it opened and Igor, all smiles, was waiting to greet them. Saskia, awake again, ran from the car and hurtled herself straight into his arms.
“Papa, we went sailing and I did two tacks all by myself.”
“No, pumpkin, surely not?” Igor opened his eyes wide in faux astonishment. “Someone must have helped you.”
“Nooo, Papa, it was all me!”
Nadia smiled as she struggled to follow the conversation. Igor always spoke to the children in Russian but if she concentrated she could understand most of what was said nowadays.
“Off you go now, both of you.” He patted his son’s head. “Olga is waiting for you.” He extended his hand to Nadia. “I didn’t know you intended to take the boat out today, darling.” He slipped an arm ’round her waist and walked her into the house. “Was that wise? You’re not strong enough.”
“But, darling, I had a wonderful time.”
“I can tell that from your animated face.” He smiled and kissed the end of her wind-burnt nose. Nadia noticed Anton watching them, an unreadable expression on his face. “Come, my love.” Igor led her towards the stairs. “We should rest now.”
Nadia knew what that meant and her pulse quickened at the prospect. For the first time in over a month she felt a brief flare of sexual desire. Igor was a passionate man and not many days passed without his making love to her at least once, almost always in the afternoon. His lovemaking was strenuous and inventive, and in fifteen years she hadn’t once tired of it. Until the death of her brother deprived her of all her finer feelings.
They reached their room and Igor removed her clothes frustratingly slowly, plastering her body with sensual kisses as he tantalised and teased, sensing the return of her interest perhaps and punishing her by making her wait.
“You have returned to me, my darling,” he said afterwards, his now flaccid penis still buried deep inside her. “I rejoice. But you have done too much today. Rest awhile and I’ll get your pill.”
“No, Igor. Today has done me good and I think I can sleep without it.”
“No, my love, it’s too soon. And don’t forget we have guests tonight. I need you to sparkle and win them over with your charm. Monika will be here soon.”
Nadia hid her dismay with difficulty. Monika was Igor’s daughter from his first marriage. Just a few years younger than Nadia, she resented her father’s new wife—a fact she was at pains to hide from him but which she made crystal clear to Nadia at every opportunity.
“I need your help, my darling. So you must take the pill, for my sake.”
And so, of course, she did.
Chapter Four
A woman? I hadn’t seen that one coming. Still, it didn’t necessarily mean what Kara clearly thought it did. She walked out of Sally’s house as though in a trance, hands shaking as she fumbled for her car keys. No big surprise there. She’d spent fifteen years wondering what had become of her sister. Young as Jasmine had been at the time of her disappearance, her actions demonstrated a selfish determination to put herself first that I found hard to forgive. To Kara, discovering that her sister planned it all in advance and had gone off without a second thought for those she left behind must feel like a brand-new betrayal.
Kara finally suc
ceeded in extracting the keys from the bottom of her bag and promptly dropped them on the ground. I reached out a hand to steady her, picked them up and ushered her into the passenger seat.
“I’ll drive. You need time to get your head together.”
Without argument she meekly slid into the car. She didn’t say anything and stared fixedly ahead, absently fondling Gil’s ears as he leaned across from his backseat perch and licked her face. I’ve never been one to underestimate the value of silence and left her to her thoughts. She’d speak when she realized she had questions she needed to ask. I estimated that would take about five minutes.
“Is the answer as obvious as it seems?”
I glanced at the dashboard clock. Four and a half minutes. “Not necessarily. There could be dozens of reasons why she’d go off with a woman without telling any of you.”
“Like what?”
“Well, she might have thought she was being recruited for a modelling agency or something like that. She certainly had the looks and the figure.”
“I suppose so, but why didn’t she say?”
“Would your father have let her?”
“God, no!”
“Well, there you are then.”
“Yes, but she could have told me. I’d never have let on to Dad.”
“She might have thought you were too young to understand or that you couldn’t be trusted to keep her secret once the pressure was on.”
“Perhaps, but I still think—”
“Or she might have thought she was going to be interviewed for some glamorous job somewhere and the woman might have been offering her accommodation.” I paused, glancing at Kara’s profile as I waited for the lights to change. “But, even if what you’re thinking is true, would it matter?”
“Not really, it’s just not something I’ve ever considered. Not once in all the hours I’ve spent speculating about the reasons for her disappearance.”
“Well, if it’s true, and it’s a very big if we’re talking about here, it would explain why she’s never been home again. She wouldn’t want to deny who she really is and you did mention that homophobia is high on your father’s pet-hate list.”
“True, but I just don’t buy it, Charlie.” She shook her head. “Not that I have anything against gays, not like my father. Each to their own, as far as I’m concerned. But the Jas I remember took a healthy interest in the opposite sex and didn’t display any of the tendencies.”
“Knew what to look for, did you, at the age of twelve?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Are you all right now?”
“Yes, I’m fine, but I’m glad you were with me back there.”
“No sweat.”
“Charlie, what Sally told us about that other girl, surely that means something?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Oh, come on! Two girls in succeeding years, both favourites of Ramsay’s and both disappearing in questionable circumstances.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, Kara. We don’t know that Suzanne actually disappeared. Sally said her family moved away.”
“Yes, that’s what she said but I doubt if she really knows.” The dull sheen of disappointment in Kara’s eyes had been replaced by a gleam of determination I was starting to recognize. I wasn’t sure if I was pleased she’d recovered so quickly or wary about her renewed determination to continue with this wild-goose chase.
“If the girl had disappeared, there would have been a police search, lots of publicity and appeals for information locally. You’d have been bound to hear about it.”
“Yes, you’re right.” She briefly lapsed into silence. When she spoke again she appeared to be having trouble containing her excitement. “But, Charlie, if a complaint was made against Ramsay, wouldn’t there be something on record somewhere? Perhaps one of your old colleagues would be able to find out what it was?”
“Nope, I’m afraid not. It would have been a disciplinary matter at the college. The girl would have been over the age of consent so no law would have been broken.”
“Oh damn! I was so sure we were on to something.”
“This place hasn’t changed much,” I said, pulling into the college car park.
Ramsay was taking his last class of the day but Kara was recognised by the college secretary and we were allowed to wait in reception even though we didn’t have an appointment. A steady stream of students of both sexes wandered past us in tight clusters. From the snippets of conversation I overheard, a party at someone’s house on Saturday night and the thorny question of exactly who had or hadn’t managed to snag an invitation appeared to be the only subject under discussion. I was tempted to smile, remembering just how important such things had once been to me. Times change but people obviously didn’t.
“Kara.” Ramsay approached us a short time later with a broad smile for his ex-pupil.
“What a pleasant surprise.”
The man didn’t seem to have aged much. He was tall and lean, wearing an open-necked shirt with the sleeves rolled back, no jacket and well-tailored trousers. He looked suave yet approachable. More like an athlete than a teacher. His hair was thick and slicked back with that wet-look goopy stuff but kept falling forward across one side of his brow. Call me a cynic but I couldn’t help wondering if it was a deliberate ploy to encourage his female students to fantasise about pushing it back into place.
His clear blue eyes were focused on Kara with evident appreciation. But that was no reason for me to regard him with suspicion. His reaction to her was no different than I’d expect from any red-blooded male, myself included. But still, there was something about him that put me on red alert. My copper’s nose told me there was more to this guy than just a pretty face. In my experience, when someone seems too good to be true they almost certainly are.
“Sorry to call unannounced, Mr. Ramsay,” Kara said, shaking his proffered hand.
“Oh, Colin, please, you’re not a student anymore.”
“Colin, then. This is Charlie Hunter.”
I took my turn to shake the man’s hand. His grip was firm and there was no anxiety in his expression. He was clearly curious to know what brought us knocking at his door but too polite to ask outright. I took a backseat as Kara and Ramsay caught up. How was college? What are you doing now? Why don’t you come to our reunions? The usual insincere crap. Still, it gave me the opportunity to watch Ramsey in action, to get a feel for the man. He didn’t seem to be anything other than genuinely interested in Kara’s activities since leaving college, and nothing in his body language suggested he found it a strain chatting to Jasmine’s sister.
“Charlie was the detective who investigated my sister’s disappearance,” Kara said, finally getting down to business.
And there it was. A lightning-swift cloud passed through those suspiciously bright blue eyes—coloured contact lenses, I was willing to bet. It was fleeting and if I hadn’t been watching him closely, I’d have missed it.
“You still haven’t heard from Jasmine, then?” Ramsay recovered with commendable speed.
“No, but you see, my brother was killed in an accident—”
“I’m so sorry, Kara. I didn’t know, otherwise I would have—” He broke off and covered one of her hands with his so I never did learn what he would have done. “That must have been a terrible blow.”
“Yes, thank you, it was, but we’re coping. The thing is, though, I think Jasmine ought to know and so I’ve started looking for her.”
“And you think I can help?” He shrugged. “I don’t see how. It was all so long ago. Still, anything I can do, I’ll be only too glad. I expect you have some questions.”
“I remember interviewing you at the time,” I said, breaking up Ramsay’s cosy little tête-à-tête with Kara by reminding him of my presence. “You said she was an exceptional student.”
“She was. I had high hopes of getting her to Oxbridge.”
“Yes, but you didn’t tell me her grades had started to slip.”
“They hadn’t slipped exactly—”
“Well, either they had or they hadn’t,” I said in my most reasonable voice.
If Ramsay realized I was deliberately trying to provoke him, he gave no sign and answered me in the same courteous tone he’d employed throughout the exchange. “She was preoccupied and had turned in a couple of essays that weren’t up to her usual standard, that’s all.” He shrugged. “It happens. Kids, especially ones of that age, suddenly realize there’s a life outside the schoolroom and their attention slips. Jasmine was a good-looking girl.” He paused and offered Kara an oily smile. “It runs in the family, obviously, and I dare say she had the lads chasing her ’round the block. It was bound to distract her.”
“So what did you talk about in your one-to-one sessions?”
“Oh, the usual. Was there anything wrong? Did she think she was giving her work the attention it deserved? Was there anything she wanted to tell me? That sort of thing.”
“And was there? Anything she wanted to tell you, I mean.”
“No, she said everything was fine. She admitted not having given as much attention to her work as she should have done, but she didn’t say why. She said she’d get back on track because she didn’t want to fail.”
“And you didn’t talk about anything else?”
He wrinkled his brow. “Not that I can recall.”
“And I don’t suppose, during your little chats, she happened to let anything slip about where she was planning to go.”
“Sorry, Mr. Hunter, I’d like to help but it was a long time ago and hundreds of students have passed through my hands during the intervening years.” He lifted his shoulders, still addressing his comments to me, but his eyes were resting upon Kara’s face, and he treated her to a commendably sincere smile of regret. “I really can’t remember anything else about Jasmine.”
“Yes, but if you could just cast your mind back—”
“Thanks for your time,” I said, cutting Kara off and standing up so she had no choice but to do the same. “We’ll get out of your hair now.”