Unfinished Business

by W. Soliman

  “I said okay, you can come.” I wasn’t about to tell her she could be in danger and the best way for me to look out for her was to keep her close. I lifted her heavy bag with one hand and almost dropped it in the water. “Christ, what the hell have you got in there?”

  “Oh, just one or two essentials.” She smiled angelically. “You know how it is.”

  I didn’t, but I figured I’d soon find out.

  Unhampered by the restraints of a tight skirt this time she leapt agilely on board without my assistance. I unlocked the boat and Gil did his usual thing of jumping all over Kara, knowing better than to try the same routine with me. I tossed Kara’s bag onto the bed in the spare cabin and rejoined her in the salon. She looked completely at home making coffee in the galley.

  Succinctly I outlined all I’d learn from Ramsay. Well, most of it.

  “I’m so sorry, Charlie,” she said. “It must come as quite a blow to realize one of your colleagues was involved.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “Any idea who it might be?”

  “Not yet, but it must be someone who’s still there, otherwise they wouldn’t know I’d been asking questions. Unfortunately it also means it’s probably someone I’ve known and trusted for a long time.”

  “Does that narrow it down?”

  “A bit.” I rubbed my chin as I gloomily pondered the question. “Problem is, it needn’t be someone in the squad. It could be a uniform or even a civilian worker. It’s hard to know where to look first.”

  “If whoever enticed Jas away had contacts in the police fifteen years ago, presumably he still does, so it may not necessarily be someone you know.”

  “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, sweetheart.” I squeezed her shoulder, touched by her concern and glad, suddenly, of her company. “Thing is, even if he has a new generation of poodles reporting to him, in my day it must have been someone I knew.” I thumped my fist against the galley surface. “I’ve been a bloody fool, charging in like that, asking questions willy-nilly and endangering Harry.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t your questions that did it?” She poured hot water into two mugs.

  “Perhaps it was me going to that pub and asking after you that alerted the insider?”

  “That’s a possibility.” But it didn’t make me feel a whole lot better.

  My mobile rang. I checked the display and took the call.

  “Are they airborne yet?” I asked, not bothering with any preliminaries.

  “Yes, they took off right on time.”

  “Thanks, Phil, I appreciate you letting me know.”

  “Well,” I said, pocketing my phone, “at least Harry’s safely on his way to Spain.”

  “Good, that must be a relief.”

  “You have no idea.” I let out a long breath, took the mug of coffee she was holding out to me and sipped it. “Ouch, that’s hot!”

  “Don’t be such a baby, Charlie. Coffee’s supposed to be hot.”

  “Not that hot.”

  “Anyway,” she said, “I think we should stop worrying about who, how and why for the moment and think about what we’re going to do when we get to Weymouth. How are we going to find Jas, assuming she’s there, of course? Presumably you have some sort of plan.”

  “Yes, but there’s something we ought to do here first.”

  “Oh yes, and what would that be?”

  “Have a chat with your mother.”

  “But why?” Alarm flashed through her eyes. “She doesn’t know anything.”

  “Possibly not, but you did say she changed towards your father once Jasmine disappeared.”

  “That’s hardly to be wondered at.”

  “Then let’s see if she’s willing to tell us why. Just like Sally, there’s probably stuff she knew at the time but didn’t say. Perhaps she’ll reveal things that might help, if she knows you want to find your sister.” I glanced at her. “I assume she doesn’t know you’ve decided to look for her.”

  “No, I haven’t told her. Now isn’t a good time for her. She’s got a lot to deal with and I don’t want to upset her more than she already is.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Kara tutted with impatience. “Her only son and favourite child just died, remember.”

  “And her remaining daughter has questions that need answers.” I met her gaze and held it, challenging her. “Do you want to find your sister or not?”

  She only hesitated for a second or two longer. “Yes, okay, let’s do it.”

  “Okay, good. Will she be at home this morning?”

  “I expect so but I’ll check.”

  Kara extracted her mobile from the pocket of her jeans and called home. She had a brief chat to her mother and broke the connection.

  “She’s there.” She grabbed her bag and car keys. “Let’s go.”

  I was getting used to Kara’s habit of doing everything at breakneck speed. She headed for the door without even checking to see if I was following her. I gave Gil a rawhide bone as compensation for being left behind, locked up and followed her.

  “How do you want to play this?” she asked as she drove us towards Lewes.

  “Depends how she reacts to our questions. You should start by telling the truth. You contacted me hoping I’d help you find Jasmine so you can tell her about Brett. I’d be interested to see how she takes it.”

  “Badly, is my guess.”

  “Look, if you don’t want to do this, you only have to say.”

  I didn’t add that nothing on this earth could stop me from delving deeper, not now that Harry had been threatened. One of my ex-colleagues had most likely been instrumental in posing that threat, and the key to discovering his identity was the whereabouts of Jasmine Webb.

  “No, I want to know what happened to her more than ever. It’s just the thought of Mum being disappointed in me.”

  “Why should she be?” When Kara didn’t respond I pushed the issue. “Come on, Kara, talk to me. Why should your mother be disappointed because you want to know what happened to your sister? Just because your parents don’t talk about it, that doesn’t mean you’ve got to keep stum, as well.” My eyes raked her body with the suggestion of a smile. “You’re a big girl now.”

  She rolled her own eyes but wisely didn’t comment. Instead she lifted her shoulders and the indicator simultaneously. “No, you’re right, of course. It’s just that old habits die hard and talking about Jasmine to either of my parents seems like heresy. Okay, here we are.” She pulled into the driveway of the detached house I vaguely recalled and opened her door before she’d even turned the engine off. “Come on, let’s get this over with before I change my mind.”

  She climbed out, squared her shoulders and led the way ’round the side of the house. We entered through the kitchen door and Kara called out, “It’s only me, Mum.”

  The sight of the woman who shuffled into the room a minute or so later took me completely by surprise. I remembered an attractive woman, elegant and composed. She’d taken the disappearance of her elder daughter in her stride and held the family together when it was in danger of self-destructing. All right, so it was fifteen years on, but the person confronting me now bore no resemblance whatsoever to the image I retained of Kara’s mother. Mrs. Webb had put on at least two stone since I’d last seen her. Given that she was several inches shorter than her daughter, it was weight that didn’t sit comfortably on her petite frame. Her once flaming red hair was now dull and heavily streaked with grey. There was no style to it and it badly needed cutting. Her complexion had that dried-up sallow appearance I associated with heavy smokers. She wore a shapeless dress that did nothing to improve her appearance, and her bare feet were pushed into slippers with the backs trodden down. They slapped against the tiled floor each time she took a step. Her face was completely expressionless. She glanced at Kara with apparent disinterest and didn’t address a word to her.

  I reminded myself she’d just had to deal with the death of her only son and mental
ly cut her some slack. I knew all about death and could empathize. Perhaps because of my firsthand dealings with the Grim Reaper, breaking the news of death to the loved ones of the deceased had always been the part of the job that got to me the most. I was glad when Family Liaison Officers were drafted in to take the brunt of the pressure off us in that respect. I was also mightily relieved I hadn’t had to tell this woman about her son. I didn’t suppose she was getting much support from her husband and couldn’t see them helping each other through their grief. But the deterioration in her appearance hadn’t happened overnight. She must have given up on life and started letting herself go long before Brett’s accident.

  “Mum, this is Charlie Hunter.”

  Mrs. Webb offered me a limp handshake but didn’t say anything, nor did the mention of my name light a spark in her lifeless eyes. That surprised me. It also put me on my guard. In my experience, parents of missing children never forgot the names of the investigating officers, regardless of the passage of time. I waited for her to ask why I’d come calling with Kara in the middle of a weekday morning.

  Nothing.

  This was one zoned-out female, difficult to like, harder still to make excuses for.

  “Let’s have some coffee.” Kara’s artificially bright voice filled a silence that was in danger of becoming embarrassing. She bustled about the kitchen, filling the kettle and pulling mugs from a cupboard. “How have you been, Mum?”

  “How do you think?”

  Kara winced at her mother’s acerbic tone and I felt a moment’s anger on her behalf. Mrs. Webb wasn’t the only one hurting here. She should be taking comfort from the feisty daughter who remained to her. A little maternal empathy wouldn’t go amiss.

  Once we were seated ’round the kitchen table with our coffee, the conversation stilted and one-sided, I decided to take the lead. Kara, usually so forthright and sure of herself, seemed to regress in her mother’s presence, becoming awkward and tongue-tied.

  “I don’t know if you remember me, Mrs. Webb, but I was one of the detectives who came here when Jasmine disappeared.”

  Her head snapped up. At last there was some animation in her slack features as her gaze darted from Kara to me and then back to her daughter. “Why did you bring him here?”

  “Mum, I just wanted to—”

  “What do you think you’re playing at, dragging that business up again?”

  Kara flinched at her mother’s accusatory tone and I couldn’t altogether blame her. Mrs. Webb’s reaction to the mention of Jasmine’s name was way too extreme. After all this time, she ought to be able to handle it without flying off the handle at her one remaining child. Even if her elder daughter was no longer spoken of in this house, her mother wouldn’t be human if she didn’t still think about her. And wonder.

  I tried to make allowances, but just observing the way she was glaring at Kara with an expression that bordered on dislike was enough to make my hackles rise. Along with my growing suspicions. Did she know more about Jasmine’s disappearance than she was letting on? Was that why she hadn’t shown any grief at the time? Or was she just a naturally cold fish? Questions in need of answers jostled for position in my brain. I cut to the chase, hoping to shock a genuine reaction out of the woman.

  “Kara asked me to come here today because she thinks Jasmine should know about Brett,” I said.

  Mrs. Webb let out an ugly laugh. “Why? What good do you suppose that will do?”

  She fumbled in a drawer, extracted a packet of cigarettes and lit up. After inhaling, she blew a long stream of smoke in my direction but kept her eyes focused on a spot on the wall above Kara’s head. Her fingers were stained with nicotine and her hands were shaking. I thought I could detect an element of fear behind her aggressive expression. And that got me wondering some more.

  “Mum, please try to understand.” Kara touched her mother’s hand. “Brett’s gone and now we have—”

  “You don’t need to remind me that Brett’s gone. It’s not something I’m likely to forget in a hurry.”

  “I know you’re hurting, but—”

  Mrs. Webb shook Kara’s hand away as though she couldn’t bear the thought of being comforted. For the first time since we’d entered the house I noticed an emotion other than anger on the woman’s face. Her guard had slipped and the abject grief she felt at the loss of her son was written all over it. There was none of the stoic acceptance she’d shown when Jasmine went missing. Just stark, unadulterated misery.

  Feeling like the intruder I was, I looked away, concentrating my attention on the large rear garden, which was in full bloom and meticulously maintained. Not Mrs. Webb’s work, I was willing to bet. Probably her husband paying someone else to keep up appearances.

  “Everyone’s gone, and all I’m left with is—”

  Mrs. Webb’s words trailed off. Whatever she’d been about to say, she’d clearly thought better of it. Kara was staring at her as intently as I was but her mother refused to look at either of us. Instead she drew on her cigarette so deeply she was afflicted by a spasm of coughing.

  I stood, found a glass in the cupboard Kara had taken the mugs from and filled it with tap water. It didn’t exactly come as a big surprise when I handed it to the woman and received no thanks. Shrugging, I waited for her to bring her coughing under control before I spoke again.

  “You’re left with a lovely daughter who’s a credit to you,” I said, finding it hard to keep the anger out of my voice. “And another daughter who’s made a life for herself somewhere else. Kara thinks it’s time to find out where she is and I’d have thought you’d agree.”

  “You’re hardly in a position to know what I think.”

  She’d got me there. “True, but all the same, I—”

  “Anyway, you don’t know Jas has made a life elsewhere. You don’t even know if she’s still alive. None of us do.”

  “We know she was alive, Mum. We had that letter and phone call.”

  Mrs. Webb dismissed her daughter’s words with a careless wave of her hand. “That was fifteen years ago. Anything could have happened to her since then.”

  “Surely we would have heard.”

  “Not necessarily. She could be abroad. She could be anywhere. She’s never bothered to get in touch, so why would she care about Brett?”

  The words were spoken with a finality, presumably intended to discourage argument. But I was in an argumentative mood. Besides, I couldn’t help wondering why she was so keen to close the door on her elder daughter. Was she so devoid of maternal feeling that she no longer cared? I shifted my position and stretched my legs out. No, there was more to it than that. Mrs. Webb was frightened about something, and I reckoned her emotionless display was a mask she’d perfected to disguise that fear. Time to apply some pressure.

  “Oh, she’s still in this country. Well, she was a few months ago anyway.”

  Mrs. Webb didn’t show any surprise. “How do you know?”

  “I know because Brett saw her a few months ago.”

  This time my bombshell produced the desired effect.

  “What!” Mrs. Webb’s eyes swivelled and rested upon her daughter, her first uncontrived reaction since our arrival. “What lies have you been spreading to drag him into this?”

  “It’s true, Mum, I found—”

  “If Brett had seen Jas, he would have told me.”

  “If he didn’t,” I said, “presumably he had a good reason.”

  “I don’t believe you!” Mrs. Webb folded her arms and stared at the opposite wall.

  Exasperated, I nodded at Kara. Looking miserable, she rummaged in her bag and produced the picture of Jasmine and Brett together. Wordlessly she slid it across the table.

  Mrs. Webb grabbed it with both hands and held it out in front of her at arms’ length, as though she was short-sighted but avoided wearing glasses. Unlike me, she didn’t need to be told to turn the photo over. She groaned when she saw Brett’s neat handwriting on the back and dropped the picture as though it
hurt her to touch it. Hands shaking more violently than ever, she lit another cigarette from the butt of the first.

  “It’s a trick.” An uneasy silence ensued. I kicked Kara’s ankle under the table when she opened her mouth as though to fill the void. I wanted her mother to digest all we’d told her and show some interest but half a cigarette was reduced to ash before she did so. “Brett didn’t say. Jas didn’t—”

  “Jas?” said Kara and I together.

  “How often does she ring you, Mrs. Webb?”

  “Mum?” Kara’s eyes were luminous with shock. “What does this mean?”

  When Mrs. Webb showed no immediate signs of responding, I spoke for her. “It means your mother knows where Jasmine went to. She’s always known, which is why she didn’t seem particularly upset when she first went missing.”

  “No, I—”

  “And I suspect she talks to her on a regular basis, even if she doesn’t actually see her, which is why she was so surprised to learn your brother met her again. She thought one or the other of them would have told her.”

  “You think you know it all,” said Mrs. Webb, a noxious smile of her face. “But you’re wrong. I have no idea where Jasmine is.”

  “Perhaps not but I still maintain you knew in advance she intended doing a runner.” I ran a hand through my hair and locked eyes with Kara’s mother. “I think she went with your blessing and still keeps in touch with you.”

  “Oh God!” Kara propped her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her splayed hands. “I don’t think I can take much more of this.”

  I squeezed her shoulder. Now wasn’t the time to tell her I’d told her so. But, if nothing else, presumably her distress would elicit some sort of response from her mother.

  It did, but not the one I’d been expecting.

  “Don’t listen to him,” she said. “He’s way off the mark.” She turned eyes full of scornful reproach upon me. “But then he’s a policeman, so what else can you expect. Just as well I did know Jas intended to leave. His lot were worse than useless.”

  I met her hostile gaze with detachment and disciplined myself not to respond. Out of respect for Kara’s feelings, I’d only get heavy with the woman when I was able to see her alone.