Unfinished Business

by W. Soliman

  “What the—”

  I pulled off the helmet, shook the hair out of my eyes and grabbed Ramsay by the elbow.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Mr. Hunter, you half scared me to death.”

  I scowled. “Think yourself lucky that I’m in a lenient mood.”

  “Look, I really don’t know what you want from me but I haven’t got time for this now. I’m already late for my first class.”

  “And I need some answers.” I steered him against the wall with a vicious twist of the elbow I was still crushing.

  “But I can’t help you. I’ve already told you everything I know.”

  “Cut the crap, Ramsay, I’m in no mood to play games.”

  “You can’t treat me like this. There are rules. I’ll report you to your superintendent.”

  “Good try, but I’m not a serving policeman anymore.”

  “But Kara said—”

  “Kara said I looked into her sister’s disappearance fifteen years ago.”

  “So, if you’re no longer a policeman, what are you now?”

  “The person who’s going to make your life a living hell if you don’t start telling the truth.” I spoke quietly, an unmistakable note of menace underlying my words. “Who did you talk to after Kara and I came to see you?”

  “No one, I…”

  His words trailed off and I knew what must be going through his mind. Should he try to talk his way out of this, call for help or simply tell the truth? When I detected signs of real fear in his eyes, I knew he wouldn’t hold out for long. Not with me in such an uncompromising mood, governed by no one’s rules except my own and in no frame of mind to play fair.

  “Is everything all right, Colin?” One of his female colleagues who’d just parked her car was regarding me with suspicion.

  “Oh yes, no problem, thanks, Celia. Just having a chat with an old friend.”

  Yep, definitely a coward. He could have got his colleague to call security but he must know if he did that he’d only be delaying the inevitable.

  “Whoever you spoke to is such a fucking coward that he’s threatening my eight-year-old son,” I hissed as Ramsay’s colleague walked slowly away, frequently turning to look back at us over her shoulder. “As you can imagine, that’s pissed me off big-time. Now start talking and don’t even think about lying.”

  Ramsay shook his head just once. I increased the pressure I was putting on his elbow and the shake turned into a nod. “All right, I’ll tell you what I know, which isn’t much. Let’s go inside. But just for the record, I didn’t tell anyone you’d been to see me, and that’s the truth.”

  Against all the odds, I believed him.

  Ramsay headed for the same room as before and closed the door in the face of a student waiting to see him. “All I’ve ever wanted to be is a good teacher,” he said, slumping into the chair behind his desk and rubbing his elbow. “To impart knowledge and try and instil some appreciation for literature into the young minds I’m entrusted to shape.”

  “Very noble of you.”

  “Well, what can I tell you? I was young and idealistic and soon learned that it’s not that straightforward. If the kids don’t want to learn, there’s not much a teacher can do about it. It’s not like it was in my day anymore.”

  “This is all very touching but what’s it got to do with Jasmine Webb?”

  “I’m getting to that.” He stood and paced the room, making it difficult for me to read his expression. “Like I said, when I first qualified I was full of enthusiasm, a bit like you when you joined the police, I should think. Anyway, no fancy private schools for me. Oh no! I wanted to teach in a big comprehensive and see if I could make a difference for some of the less privileged kids in society.” He made a scoffing sound at the back of his throat. “I figured that in order to get through to them, I needed to connect on their own level. Dress like them, speak their language, stuff like that.”

  “Can’t see clued-up kids falling for that one.” I felt myself being drawn into Ramsay’s account in spite of myself, satisfied that so far he’d told the truth.

  “That’s what the old hands told me but, of course, I thought I knew better and didn’t realize at first that the girls misinterpreted the way I was behaving. I didn’t know either that I’d made a rod for my own back until it was almost too late.”

  “Complaints were made against you?”

  “Not at the time, but one fifteen-year-old did start a rumour that I’d come on to her.” He met my gaze head-on. “It was complete nonsense, nothing was made official, but I knew my card had been marked.”

  “So, let me guess, when a vacancy came up here you decided to apply?”

  “I was persuaded that it might be in my best interests. I was told that if I went for it, nothing would be said about the allegations.”

  “I see.”

  “Yes, well, the ideology was already wearing off and sixth-form college suddenly didn’t seem like quite such a bad idea.”

  “So what happened?”

  “The girl from the comp who’d made the allegations, she was a bit unstable, got into trouble and was sent for counselling. Some navel-gazer persuaded her to purge her demons by making her allegations official.” He paused and looked me directly in the eye again. “There was no foundation in the complaint. I didn’t touch the wretched girl but it could have ruined my career, regardless of whether or not I was found guilty.”

  “But the case never made it to court?”

  “No.” He stopped pacing and threw himself back in his chair. “No, it never did.”

  I sensed that we were getting to the crux of the matter at last. “Why was that?”

  “Well, out of the blue someone I’d never seen before approached me in a pub some of us use regularly. He knew all about the allegations, which shook me because not many people did. He said they could be made to disappear if I did one small thing for him in return.”

  “Name?”

  “Never knew it. All he gave me was a phone number and a warning not to tell anyone else about our conversation.” Ramsay levelled his eyes on my face. So far at any rate he hadn’t lied to me. “He scared the shit out of me, I’m not ashamed to admit it, and I wasn’t about to cross him.”

  “What did he want you to do?”

  “He was on the lookout for a girl of Jasmine’s age, someone good-looking who knew something about boats. Someone intelligent. I guess they thought girls at a college on the coast would be more likely to fit that bill.”

  I ground my teeth, suspecting I knew where this was going and attempting to keep my temper in check. “Go on.”

  “The girl had to be dissatisfied with school and on the lookout for another way to make easy money.”

  “And you gave them Jasmine?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Without even knowing what it was they wanted her to do. You’re supposed to protect the young, not feed them to the bloody lions.”

  “It wasn’t like that.” He flapped his hands. “You don’t understand. I knew she wasn’t being recruited for prostitution and was told if she wasn’t interested in their proposition she’d be allowed to walk away.” He looked away and concentrated his gaze on the surface of his littered desk. For the first time he wasn’t looking directly at me, which could only mean he was about to start lying. “It seemed to be the solution to both our problems, Jasmine’s and mine.”

  “You told me you didn’t know she had any problems.”

  “Well, obviously, her work was slipping so I’d had those long chats with her—”

  “Only chats?”

  “All right.” He still wouldn’t look at me. “We had a bit of a thing for a while, I admit that. But I wasn’t her first, and it was her who pursued me. She was a bit wild, not interested in lads of her own age. And Christ, she was attractive.” He pushed his hair away from his face, swiping his forearm across his brow as though removing sweat. “I’m only human.”

  I glowered at him. “That’s a matter of opin
ion.”

  “It’s true,” he said with quiet dignity. “And it was more than just a thing, from my perspective anyway. But sadly, not from hers.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I fell for her. Hard.” He ran his hand through his hair for a second time and kept his eyes focused on the surface of his desk. I thought I could detect genuine pain in his body language as he recalled the doomed relationship. “I wanted us to be together when she finished college. I could have helped her through university.” Ramsay finally lifted his eyes, met my gaze and held it. “I wanted to marry her.”

  “But she didn’t feel the same way?”

  He flushed. “She laughed in my face. Said she had no intention of tying herself down to anyone and wasn’t interested in university.”

  I hitched a brow. “Then what was she interested in?”

  “I never found out. All I knew was that she was planning on going off to London. I don’t know why, she wouldn’t say, but she was adamant that she couldn’t stay here any longer.”

  “What had changed?”

  “I honestly don’t know. She clammed up whenever I asked her but she was determined to give up her education, and so I offered to set her up in a flat. She turned that proposition down too.”

  “So you got your revenge, salved your wounded pride, by recommending her to someone whose intentions had to be questionable?”

  “No, I knew she wasn’t in danger. I still loved her, in spite of the fact that she seemed to be toying with me, and I wouldn’t have put her at risk.”

  “That’s not how it looks from where I’m standing.”

  “No, I don’t imagine it does.” He sighed. “And I’m not proud of what I did. I suppose I just hoped that if she got what she wanted through my recommendation, if I gave her the space she obviously needed, she’d come back to me when she was ready.” He looked embarrassed.

  “Pathetic, isn’t it, but, like I said, I fell for her hard. Anyway, it didn’t work because I never heard from her again.”

  “But, if you loved her, I still don’t see how you can be sure you weren’t putting her in danger.”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Not to me.”

  “How do you think the allegations the girl made so conveniently disappeared after I gave them Jasmine?”

  “Hang on, let me get this straight. Are you saying the people who wanted a girl like Jasmine were linked directly to the police?”

  Monika escorted the three Spaniards to one of Igor’s cars and climbed into it with them. Viktor was behind the wheel. Nadia felt Igor’s arm slide ’round her waist as they waved to their departing guests. She turned her face into his shoulder and closed her eyes. The evening had been a huge strain and she felt tired again. She hoped Igor wouldn’t want to make love and would let her go straight to sleep.

  She’d always pretended she didn’t know what her husband did for a living, how he made so much money but, of course, she did. It was impossible not to. He’d never given her chapter and verse, and she knew better than to ask, but over the years she’d got a pretty good handle on things. Her Russian was better than anyone realized. They spoke in front of her about things they thought she wouldn’t understand, and she absorbed information that brought home to her the dangers Igor faced every waking minute of his life. He didn’t seem unduly troubled and thrived on the stress, but she was continually anxious about his safety.

  But things would soon improve. Igor was mostly legitimate nowadays and planned to invest a lot of money in a building project somewhere on a Spanish Costa. Lots of his countrymen were jumping on that particular bandwagon, which was partly why he’d entertained these men tonight. They were local politicians from the area that interested Igor. No doubt they wouldn’t be averse to taking bribes in return for pushing his building applications through.

  She was delighted he was gradually shedding his old ways but change didn’t happen overnight. Monika, her glamorous stepdaughter, ran her father’s escort agency based in the West End of London, staffed mostly by East European girls smuggled in via Igor’s organisation. He kept another house in Weymouth, and Nadia supposed that was where Monika was headed now. No doubt attractive feminine companionship awaited the Spaniards, which would all but seal their commitment to her husband.

  “You did well tonight, my love.” Igor guided her to the stairs. “Perhaps we’ll live permanently in Spain when the building’s complete, and you can have a free hand in designing our house.” His voice was reflective, as though he’d only just thought about making the move, but Igor never did anything without considering all the angles first. “Would you like that?”

  Nadia didn’t respond immediately. She wasn’t sure how she felt about leaving England behind forever, and it must have shown on her face.

  “What is it, darling? You don’t look overjoyed at the prospect.” He opened the door to their room and ushered her inside. “I thought the idea of a fresh start would please you.”

  “It does, Igor, but I thought we’d agreed to send the children to school in England.”

  “There are good schools in Spain, as well. We’ll find the very best for them.” He pulled her into his arms. “There’s nothing more for you here. The memories are too painful.”

  “No, Igor, I’m better now, really I am. Going out on the water today did me a world of good. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all those terrible things to you. I didn’t mean them.”

  “I know you didn’t.” He grazed her forehead with his lips. “But I’m glad you realize it too. It shows you’re making progress. Now, come to bed. You look exhausted.”

  “I don’t need pills anymore.” She shook her head at the one he was holding out to her.

  “Take it, darling. It’s too soon for you to stop them.”

  “Well, at least let me take less of them. I’m sure I can sleep tonight without one.”

  “No, my love.” He smiled but a trace of intransigence entered his voice as he slipped the tiny pill into her hand, closing her fingers around it. “The last time you tried to sleep without one you woke up in the middle of the night screaming. I don’t want you to feel like that ever again.”

  “But, Igor—”

  “No arguments, darling. Trust me to know what’s best for you.”

  She did trust him. Of course she did. So she took the pill.

  Chapter Six

  A policeman?

  I walked back to the Harley, shaking my head, half wishing now that I’d listened to Emily and left this thing alone. If I’d taken the coward’s way out, I wouldn’t be wrestling with the unpalatable possibility that one of my former colleagues was batting for the opposition. The prospect filled me with sadness as much as anger, and before I even got back to the bike I was halfway towards convincing myself there had to be another explanation. If one of my mates—someone I’d trusted to cover my back in tight situations—was bent, surely I would have known? How could I have worked with someone for all those years and not even suspected?

  The answer was that I couldn’t have, so I must be overlooking something vital. Either that or Ramsay had lied to me.

  A fulminating anger coursed through me as I considered the teacher’s cavalier actions, taken to save his own skin, fifteen years ago. Christ, wasn’t it supposed to be women who got all vindictive when they were scorned? The way Ramsay tried to justify what he did by painting himself as the innocent party made me want to go back and break his knees. I made do with thumping the saddle of the Harley instead and forced myself to face facts.

  If Ramsay had told me the truth, then I was the one responsible for the threat to my son. By appealing to my ex-colleagues for help, I’d inadvertently warned the dirty copper of my interest in Jasmine Webb. The insider had every reason to suppose the case would remain buried forever but had presumably flagged the computer file, just in case. My sudden interest in it must have come as a bolt out of the blue.

  I rode the bike back to the marina feeling s
ick, the taste of betrayal bitter on my tongue. I weaved recklessly in and out of traffic, ready to commit murder. There was nothing worse than a bent copper, and when I discovered his identify, which I now fully intended to do, I wouldn’t be held responsible for my actions.

  Kara. Bloody hell! I almost swerved into a slow-moving van as a thought struck me. I’d blithely sent her home last night, thinking she was safe because the threats were being directed at me through Harry. But the insider would know all about her too. I needed to warn her, and considered pulling off the road to give her a call, eventually deciding it could wait another ten minutes until I got back to the boat.

  I was still at the other end of the pontoon when I realized no call would be necessary. I knew who the figure sitting on a bollard outside the No Comment had to be, even before I saw all that red hair pulled back in one of those things that looks like a bulldog clip. She was leaning against a bulging holdall and working on her laptop as though she didn’t have a care in the world. As soon as she saw me she snapped her computer shut and jumped to her feet.

  “How did it go? I thought I’d come over and find out what Ramsay had to say.”

  “Looks like you thought you might be in for a long wait.” I nodded towards her holdall, trying to keep the amusement out of my expression. Did she but know it, she was playing straight into my hands.

  “Ah yes, well, about that…Charlie, I know you plan to go to Weymouth and I really think I ought to come with you.”

  I shrugged. “You know more than I do then.”

  “Listen, it’s quite a way to go in a slow boat, and you’ll need someone to crew for you and help you keep watch. I could tie a bowline before I learned to lace my shoes, I can cook—”

  “Okay.”

  “Look, don’t say no until you’ve heard me out.” She was focusing on her feet, presumably searching for a more persuasive argument, and it took a moment for my capitulation to register with her. “Hang on, what did you just say?”