Unfinished Business

by W. Soliman

  “If I remember anything, is there anywhere I can reach you?”

  The question was addressed to Kara but before she could hand over her own card, which I thought was probably Ramsay’s true objective, I gave him one of my own. I shook the teacher’s hand, waited patiently whilst Kara made more protracted farewells and led her back down the long corridor that so reminded me of my own schooldays. I expected, any minute, to be chastised for not walking in single file.

  “Why did you stop me like that?” Kara demanded. “I wanted to ask if he saw Jasmine with any particular boy.”

  “And you think he’d know that when her best friend didn’t?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “No, Kara, you’re clutching at straws. There wasn’t anything else he could tell us.”

  “You think he told the truth then?”

  I didn’t but knew better than to encourage Kara by saying so. “If there’s anything he didn’t tell us, I don’t think it’s connected to Jasmine’s disappearance.”

  “I don’t see how you can be so sure if you didn’t let me ask any more questions.”

  “You wanted me to tag along so you must have thought I knew the right questions to ask.”

  Her expression indicated that she remained less than impressed by my irrefutable logic.

  “If he knew anything and didn’t say so at the time, he could hardly do so now without creating problems for himself. Teachers still have responsibility for their students, even in this blame-free culture we’ve created for ourselves. It wouldn’t do much for his future career prospects if he admitted to holding back information about a missing minor.”

  “I suppose not.” She turned to look at me. “So, Charlie, what do we do next?”

  “Nothing. I said I’d see those two with you and I did. There’s nowhere else to go with this. Your sister doesn’t want to be found and you should leave it at that.”

  “But if we just went to Weymouth—”

  “And do what exactly?” I eyed her impassively. “Stand on a corner and hope she obligingly strolls past? Weymouth’s a big place and we don’t have a clue where to start looking.”

  “Yachts. Whatever she’s doing, it’ll be connected with the sea. She was the best sailor of us all and loved everything to do with the sport, which must be how Brett found her.”

  “Give it up, Kara.” I leaned back to open the rear door for Gil as we pulled into the marina. Then I gave Kara a quick peck on the cheek and jumped out before she came up with more reasons to delay me. “There’s nothing more you can do.”

  I was too busy over the next few days to spare any thoughts for Kara. The salon cabinets were finished and the U-shaped seating in muted shades of grey and blue was fitted. The colours were designed to withstand the nefarious activities of small boys and large dogs, so the upholsterers would have it. The matching blinds had just been installed, and the fitters despatched with a healthy tip, so when someone knocked on the hull I assumed one of the guys had forgotten something.

  Instead, to Gil’s delight, Kara was standing on the pontoon, a suspiciously innocent smile on her face. There was a bottle of wine under her arm and she was carrying a bag bulging with takeaway cartons. It was the first time I’d seen her wearing a skirt but the wait had been worth it. Her legs were endless, and slim, and—hell, Hunter, don’t go there.

  “Kara,” I said guardedly, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I come bearing gifts as a thank-you for trying to help me. Can I come aboard?”

  No, you bloody can’t. Not looking like that. It will definitely not be in your best interests to come within range. Well, that was what I should have said.

  “Okay,” I found myself saying instead. “Just so long as you’ve given up all thoughts of persuading me to take you to Weymouth.”

  She smiled sweetly. “As if I’d do anything so underhanded.”

  “As if!”

  I reached forward and took the bag from her. She kicked off her high heels and I took her hand to help her aboard. In that skirt it wasn’t ever going to be an elegant manoeuvre, even with my help, but perhaps that was her intention. The fabric rode well up her thigh as she stretched a leg over the gunwale, and that was when I knew that I was definitely in trouble.

  Big trouble.

  This girl wasn’t about to abandon her search for her sister. Knowing how determined she could be, how could I ever have supposed that she would? But worse, she obviously thought I could be persuaded to help her, and there didn’t seem to be much she wouldn’t be prepared to do in order to cajole me. Just for a moment I considered finding out how far she’d be prepared to go.

  But only for a moment. If I became more intimately acquainted with her, there was no way my conscience would allow me to turn my back on her afterwards. That was the downside of having standards.

  “Oh!” She stepped into the salon and looked around her. “It’s lovely, Charlie. When was it finished?”

  “About five minutes ago.”

  “So we can celebrate then.”

  I shrugged. “Why not?”

  I opened the bottle of Shiraz she’d brought with her and left it on the counter to breathe. As I unloaded the cartons of Chinese food she’d provided for our supper, she prowled ’round the boat, taking an interest in everything.

  “I didn’t know what you liked so I got a little of most things.”

  “So I see.”

  I joined her in the wheelhouse, where I found her examining my books.

  “Is that your son?” She pointed to the framed picture fixed to the wall above my desk.

  “Yes, that’s Harry.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Eight.”

  “And your wife, what does she do?”

  “Ex-wife. She’s married to an accountant now.”

  “It must be hard for you not being with Harry all the time. I saw how much he means to you the other day.”

  “It’s tough, but Emily will tell you I never saw him much when we were together because of the job—”

  “Is that why you separated?”

  “Yeah, it’s a cliché but true for all that. Policemen, good policemen, are married to the job and it causes havoc with relationships. Em is high maintenance in terms of attention-seeking, and my ability to supply always fell short of her demands.”

  “But when you left, couldn’t you and your wife have patched things up?”

  “It was too late by then.” I shrugged, surprised not to find myself resenting her intrusive questions. “I suppose the sparkle had gone out of it years before. The usual stuff, you know, marrying too young, expectations too high. It’s better like this. I get what the experts call quality time with Harry and have a civilized relationship with his mother and her new husband. Everyone wins.”

  “I suppose so. I know something about dysfunctional families myself.”

  “Anyway,” I said, having no wish to get onto the subject of her family. “Let’s refill these glasses and attack that mountain of food.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Tell me something about yourself,” I invited, between mouthfuls of sweet and sour.

  “What don’t you already know?”

  “What makes you think I know anything?”

  “Because you agreed to help me and wouldn’t have done that without checking me out first.”

  I actually chuckled at that one. “Okay, you tell me about yourself and I’ll let you know if it agrees with what I found out.”

  “Fair enough.” She took a sip of wine and recited her life story as though reading from a script. She acted like it was a question she’d been asked by millions of men millions of times before and wanted to get it over with before she died of boredom. “I did A levels you know where, did a degree in psychology at UCL and then went to work for one of the big multinationals.” She pulled a face. “Why do those companies always assume female graduates are only good for human resources?”

  “What are human resources?�
�� I asked, deadpan.

  Kara smiled. “Stop playing dumb.”

  “How come you didn’t take a gap year? Isn’t that the done thing nowadays?”

  “What, and have him pay for it and still control me?” She shuddered. “Not on your life! I wanted out. I lived on campus and, when I left uni, I got my own flat straightaway.”

  “But you didn’t take to corporate life?”

  “Nope, too many pointless meetings for my taste. And as for office politics and having to watch your back all the time, well…”

  I nodded, understanding precisely where she was coming from. “Okay, I get the picture. Not everyone thrives in that sort of environment. It’s usually the ones with brains and the will to use them who don’t slot in and refrain from asking awkward questions.”

  “You must have had similar problems in the modern police force.”

  I took a swig of wine and deliberately didn’t answer. I’d worked out her tactics now and wasn’t about to be caught out for a second time. She wanted to get all cosy and intimate, and I’d played into her hands by asking her about herself. Talking about personal things would make it that much harder to turn her down when she finally got ’round to the real reason for her visit. The silence between us lengthened and Kara finally broke it, just as I’d known she would. People usually find silence unsettling. Especially when they want something.

  “On the day my life changed I was really peed off about something ridiculous that had happened at work. I can’t even remember what it was now, but I went to a wine bar to let off steam and bumped into Sam Bryce.”

  “Who’s Sam?”

  “An old friend. We were at uni together and had meant to keep in touch, what with both of us hailing from Brighton, but somehow that didn’t happen. Anyway, we linked up again and were complaining about the futility of our respective careers, as you do. That led on to him having a good moan about his inability to meet women.” Ah, so it was Samuel. “It Takes Two was launched over a bottle of house plonk in a bar off the Lanes.”

  “Is it successful?”

  “We’re getting there. You’d be surprised how many people are too busy with their lives to meet a significant other, or too frightened to go to a regular dating agency. They’re not all saddos like you might imagine, just busy people who don’t know how to connect with the opposite sex. Also men like Sam, who are brilliant but a bit lacking in self-confidence, have problems with today’s more assertive women. You know, the ones who give the impression they might eat you alive if you say something to upset them.”

  “He’s got a point,” I said, thinking of Sarah.

  “Well, they don’t have to worry about that with us. All we do is bring groups of lonely people together, for a fee of course, over some shared interest and let them get on with it. Friendship is very often all people want anyway, and with us they can get precisely that, no strings attached.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “Want me to sign you up?”

  “I’ll pass on that, thanks.”

  “Yes, somehow I can’t see you having trouble attracting female companionship.”

  “Do you live in Hove?”

  “Now, Charlie, you know I don’t, so stop asking trick questions.” She wagged a spare rib under my nose. “That’s Sam’s abode and we’ve registered the business from there, although as it’s all done online we can work from anywhere we like.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I have a flat in Sussex Square, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  “Very salubrious address.”

  “So is the rent.”

  We placed the empty cartons in the trash compactor and I offered her brandy.

  “No, thanks. I have to drive and I’d hate to have to explain to any of your ex-colleagues that you’re responsible for me being over the limit.”

  “Coffee then?”

  “Only if it’s instant.”

  I chuckled. “Right answer.”

  “So, Charlie, before we part forever,” she said casually, as we settled onto my new seating unit with our drinks, “can we sum up, for my own peace of mind, what we learned about Jas?”

  Her words immediately put me on my guard. We’d got to the real reason for her visit at last, and when I disappointed her she’d probably get all upset, throw a wobbly, call me all sorts of names and storm out of my life forever. Now I remembered why I didn’t want to get involved in another relationship.

  “I wondered when you’d get ’round to asking.”

  “Now, don’t be like that. After all, I bought you dinner and livened up your evening with an abundance of witty banter, didn’t I?”

  “Just get on with it,” I said grouchily, “if you must.”

  “Okay, I’ll go first then. Jasmine was doing fine until a few months before she disappeared. Then she discovered something, almost certainly at home, that upset her but she wouldn’t even tell her best friend what it was. Her English teacher probably fancied her and treated her as a favourite but we don’t know if it went any further than that. When her grades suffered, he had long one-to-ones with her but his explanation for what they spoke about doesn’t account for the amount of time they were closeted together. Then she disappeared, not with a man but a woman.” She shrugged as she counted off the points on her fingers. “That’s it, unless there’s something you picked up that I missed. The only new fact we’ve learned is that she went away with a woman but it still doesn’t make any sense. Why did she do it?”

  “Instead of why, have you stopped to ask yourself how?”

  “What do you mean?” Kara sat up straight, put her cup down and stared directly at me.

  “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “No, you know everything I do. But just bear in mind it was a woman, not someone her own age she went off with. We think she lived in London because that’s where Jasmine’s phone call and letter came from, and it’s also where she told Sally she was going.” I paused to sip my brandy, wondering if I was doing the right thing in setting Kara’s mind on this particular detour. But she’d never let me stop now I’d started, so I ploughed on. “If her movements were so closely guarded by your father, where did she get to meet this mystery adult and have lengthy discussions about a career change?”

  “Sailing,” Kara said, her face brightening. “It must have been. We raced all the time at weekends and met all sorts of different people at the various clubs. Dad would have intervened if she’d spoken to any of the men for too long but he wouldn’t have minded about a woman.”

  “Well, there you are then,” I said, stretching my arms above my head. “All you have to do is revisit all the sailing clubs you went to fifteen years ago and ask all the women you meet in them if they remember Jasmine.”

  “Not funny, Charlie!”

  “Sorry. Do you still sail?”

  “Yes, I have my own thirty-two-footer that I can manage single-handed. I keep it at Hamble.”

  I knew this already, of course, thanks to the diligent research carried out by Jimmy. I also knew, courtesy of the same source, that Suzanne Longhurst had not been reported missing sixteen years ago, and her family had moved away from the area for reasons that had no apparent bearing on Colin Ramsay.

  “Why Hamble?”

  “Well, there isn’t anywhere much to sail to from Brighton, and Hamble is more convenient for Cowes. That’s where Brett lived, and I often used to go over for weekends and stay with him. We’d either sail my tub together or he’d get us on something a bit faster as crew.”

  “That must have been something to look forward to.”

  “It was.”

  A tear ran down her cheek. Powerless to help myself, I arrested its progress with my forefinger, gently smoothing it away, and traced the outline of her lips with that same finger.

  “Hey, sweetheart, don’t be sad.” I snaked an arm ’round her and pulled her head towards my shoulder. I was probably playing right into her hands but what the hell. “It’ll be
all right.”

  “Charlie, I wanted to ask you if you would—”

  My mobile, charging in the wheelhouse, shattered the mood by chirping into life. Just touching Kara had got me all stirred up, and if the phone hadn’t saved the day, nothing on this earth could have prevented me from kissing her, which was presumably her intention, even though I thought her tears were genuine. And then I’d have felt honour-bound to carry on helping her.

  Saved by the bell, Hunter.

  “Excuse me.” I stood to answer the phone, careful to keep my back to her. She didn’t need to see the physical evidence, proof positive that her plan had come within a hair’s breadth of succeeding. “Yes, Em,” I said, recognising my ex-wife’s number on the display, “what is it?” As I listened to her near hysterical voice, my heart went cold. “What! When? Calm down and tell me exactly what happened.” I glanced over my shoulder. Kara was standing directly behind me, frowning. “All right, I’ll be there as soon as I can…No, no, don’t call the police, let me see it first. Have you got it there?…Fax it over now and don’t worry, it’s probably nothing.”

  “What is it?” Kara asked. “What’s happened? You’ve gone ghostly pale. Has something happened to your son?”

  “You could say that. Someone planted a threat in his backpack.” My jaw felt painfully taut as I fought to contain my fear. When I got my hands on the nameless bastard who’d been cowardly enough to use my son to get to me, he’d regret the day he was born. “Emily found it just now when she was packing his lunch box for tomorrow.”

  “My God, why? What did it say?”

  “We’re just about to find out.”

  I wrenched the paper from the fax machine as soon as it came through. Kara peered ’round my side and gasped when she read the chilling words typed in bold print across the page.

  Tell your dad to leave Jasmine Webb alone. She doesn’t wish to be found.

  Nadia would have been late for dinner if Igor hadn’t woken her with a gentle kiss. The pills he gave her sapped her energy and made her fuzzy-headed. Even now, several hours later, she still hadn’t completely shaken off the effect. She really must stop taking them. She didn’t need them anymore and, besides, she’d hate to become addicted. All the ridiculous things she’d said, the accusations she’d made when Brett died, now seemed to be exactly that. Ridiculous. It was easy to see, now that she was thinking more rationally, that her reaction had been an instinctive means of dealing with the grief and guilt by transferring blame to someone else.