Wicked Beauty

by Susan Lewis

  There was a moment’s pause before he said, ‘They tell me that pregnant women should avoid causing themselves any unnecessary stress. So please, do as I ask, effect the transfer by the end of the day today,’ and the line went dead.

  She was trembling so hard now that it took two efforts to get the phone back on its base.

  ‘Hi, I’m just –’

  She almost screamed as she spun round.

  ‘My God, are you all right?’ Chris demanded. ‘Has something happened?’

  Rachel’s hands went over her face as more fear broke through the dams in her heart. ‘Yes, yes it has,’ she gasped. ‘Or no. Not yet, but …’

  Coming into the room, he took her wrists and gently parted her hands.

  She glanced up at him, then turned abruptly away.

  ‘Rachel, what is it?’ he urged, holding on to her.

  Adrenalin was making her breath ragged, so it was hard to speak, then almost before she knew what was happening, he was drawing her into his arms and holding her in a way that felt so good there was nothing she could do to stop the tears.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he soothed. ‘Whatever it is, it’s going to be all right.’

  She stood against him, her face pressed into her hands, her body turning weak with the need to just carry on leaning, and feeling safe and protected and so, so thankful not to be alone at this moment.

  But eventually she broke free, sniffing and drying the tears with the backs of her hands. ‘Thank you,’ she said, her voice still thick with emotion. ‘I really needed that.’ Then with a faint smile she added, ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

  A glimmer of humour shone through the concern in his eyes. ‘Not at all,’ he assured her. ‘But I do mind not knowing what upset you so much. Or maybe I shouldn’t pry?’

  ‘No, no, you should,’ she told him. ‘I want to tell you. I’ve been meaning to …’ She looked around, distractedly. ‘I just, I suppose … Oh God, I hardly know where to begin.’

  ‘How about by sitting down?’ he suggested, indicating one of the sofas.

  She nodded. Another sob suddenly shuddered out of nowhere, which she tried to turn into a laugh. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I’ll pull myself together in a minute.’

  ‘Can I get you something? I know alcohol’s out of the question, but …’

  ‘You know I’m pregnant?’ she said, shocked.

  He seemed confused by her response. ‘Am I not supposed to?’

  ‘No. I mean, I just don’t remember telling anyone, except Beanie, and she’d never …’

  ‘It was Jake who told us,’ he said, ‘but I don’t think he knew it was a secret.’

  Her mind was casting about wildly, trying to think how Jake could know, until she remembered the day he’d been here, repairing the thatch. There was a good chance he’d overheard her and Beanie discussing it then.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, dashing a hand through her already dishevelled hair. ‘I’m just very edgy right now. There’s such a lot going on, and …’ Taking a deep breath, she pressed her fingers against her forehead as she tried to remember what they’d been saying before she’d fallen prey to paranoia. ‘OK, I should sit down,’ she said, starting towards the sofa. ‘And no, I don’t need anything, thank you. Except your promise not to tell anyone what I’m about to tell you now.’

  ‘Of course not,’ he replied, going to sit in the armchair next to the hearth. ‘But are you sure you don’t want something? Tea. Juice. Valium?’

  Smiling despite herself, she shook her head, then took a couple of deep breaths to set herself on the way, but it was still a struggle to get started as she kept going off on tangents and forgetting why, or leaping too far ahead then realizing she wasn’t making much sense. However, at last she found her stride, and managed to relate more or less everything that had happened since the day Tim died, right up to the phone call he’d just walked in at the end of.

  By the time she’d finished his handsome features were drawn in a deep scowl of concentration, until realizing she wasn’t going to say any more, he glanced at her briefly, then scraped a hand over the stubble on his chin. ‘Well, as far as the money is concerned,’ he said, ‘you seem to have two choices, either to tell the police of its existence, or to make the transfer now, before someone starts ratcheting up the intimidation levels.’

  Jolted, though not entirely surprised by his answer, for no sane person would surely counsel anything else now, she said, ‘But if I do give it back, how am I ever going to find out who’s making the calls, or how Tim got the money?’

  ‘You’ve just said you’re pretty sure it’s all linked to the Phraxos Group, and given what you know about how powerful they are, it doesn’t seem a good idea to mess around with them. So if I were you, I’d just give it back and carry on the investigation without it. You know it was there, and though keeping it might make you feel as though you have an edge, it could be an edge you don’t need.’

  She was staring down at her hands as she considered his words. ‘Maybe I should go to the police now,’ she said, looking up at him.

  ‘You could. So what’s stopping you?’

  She sighed. ‘I just don’t trust them to tell me the entire truth,’ she answered.

  ‘Why wouldn’t they?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe because they can’t, or because they’re trying to protect someone, or because there’s a lot more to the situation than we’ve managed to uncover.’

  ‘In which case you could be jeopardizing their investigation.’

  Her eyes flashed. ‘I have a right to know what my husband was involved in,’ she retorted. ‘God knows I don’t want to see his name dragged through the mud, but if he was paving the way for Phraxos to make inroads into the UK so that he, and probably dozens of others in equally privileged positions, could get rich from the misery and strife in Africa, or anywhere else, then he has no right to have his name protected, and the people who elected him have a right to be told.’

  He sat quietly, appreciating the kind of integrity it took to put her duty as a citizen before the shame of having her husband hated and despised for such a heinous abuse of his power. Moreover, it would be hard for the public to accept that she, as his wife, hadn’t been involved too, particularly when they were known to be so close, so the disgrace would be hers to bear, probably for the rest of her life. It made him wish that there was something he could say to convince her she was wrong, or even help her over the awfulness of being right, but there was really nothing.

  ‘You mentioned once that you knew him,’ she said after a while.

  ‘We only met a couple of times, in the village,’ he responded, ‘though with politics being something of a hobby of mine, I knew a bit about him.’

  She glanced at him with dark, troubled eyes. ‘It really isn’t looking good for him, is it?’ she said.

  No it wasn’t, but rather than speculate on the abstract, he moved on to the immediate need for action, by saying, ‘Why don’t we just get rid of that money, then take it from there?’

  She looked away, still unsure.

  ‘What do we have to do to make the transfer?’ he prompted.

  ‘Call my lawyer, in London,’ she answered.

  When she made no attempt to go to the phone, he said, ‘Don’t see it as giving up, because really it’s not. Once you’ve made the transfer, you’ll have documentary evidence of it, should you need it later.’

  ‘It won’t prove anything, the accounts are only numbers.’

  ‘Those numbers have names, and under certain circumstances the Swiss will release names.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  His eyes narrowed, humorously. ‘Because I followed the Ashby scandal as it unfolded,’ he answered. ‘So ask Laurie, she’ll tell you: information can be had from a Swiss bank when there is certain evidence of a crime.’ He didn’t add unless it was a government trying to cover it up, because he had no idea if that was the case. He wouldn’t want to bet against the Phraxos capabiliti
es either, but she really had to let go of that money.

  She looked over at the phone, then finally got up from the sofa and went to pick it up. As she started to dial Jarrett’s number, she suddenly clicked off again. ‘You know, I don’t want you to feel you’re responsible for me now, or in anyway obliged to –’

  ‘Keep dialling,’ he interrupted. ‘I’m going to get myself a beer, if there’s one in the fridge.’

  ‘I’m afraid there’s not.’

  ‘OK, Beanie will have one. I’ll be right back.’

  A few minutes later he returned with the top off a bottle of Sharps, and a quizzical look in his eyes.

  ‘It’s done,’ she told him, still standing beside the phone.

  He frowned.

  ‘It only took a moment,’ she assured him. ‘I just had to tell Michael to go ahead and do it.’

  ‘So how do you feel?’

  She thought about it, then smiled shakily as she thought of how the caller had mentioned the baby. ‘Actually, a bit as though a weight has been lifted,’ she said. ‘Which is good, because I’d expected to feel pathetic and wretched because I’d let Tim down in some way. Now how much sense does that make?’

  His eyes stayed on hers, until feeling herself starting to colour, she walked over to the window and closed it.

  ‘I should probably get in touch with Laurie,’ she said, ‘to let her know what’s happened.’

  ‘Are they going to call again, to check if you’ve made the transfer?’

  ‘They didn’t say.’ She shivered, and felt unnerved by the prospect. ‘I hate them knowing where I am,’ she said. ‘Do you think they’ll come here?’

  Knowing that she didn’t have the first idea that ‘they’, in the shape of him, were already here, he kept his expression neutral as he said, ‘What reason would they have, if they’ve got the money?’

  Having no answer to that, she turned to stare out at the sky. Then with a sigh and a laugh, she said, ‘What a ghastly time to be pregnant, eh? It’s making me feel so damned helpless.’ She waited for him to respond, but he didn’t, so turning back she said, ‘You know, normally I would never have handed this over to Laurie. Investigative journalism was what I did, before I married Tim, and I was good, even if I do say so myself. But now, half the time I’m even afraid to go on line in case I stumble into something … Well, like the villa, whatever that’s about … But then the other half of the time, I can’t stay off the damned computer. I become so consumed with it all, as though there’s nothing else in the world but the Phraxos Group, and Franz Koehler, and Katherine Sumner.’

  His smile was sardonic as he looked at her from under lowered lids. ‘I think you’re in need of some alternative excitement,’ he said, ‘something to take you out of yourself for a while. So what would you say to tea down at the most southerly point? Or a trip into Penzance?’

  She was about to shake her head and say she couldn’t, when she realized that actually, she could. ‘OK,’ she said, attempting a smile. ‘When can we go?’

  He looked at his watch. ‘What about now? I need to make a trip into Penzance anyway, to calm down the bank manager, then maybe we can do something fantastically decadent like going to see a film, or buying you some baby books?’ He peered down at her waist. ‘Or maternity clothes,’ he added, with a playful tilt of an eyebrow.

  Mirroring his look, she said, ‘Thank you for that. And yes, let’s hit Penzance, and while we’re there, perhaps you’ll let me in on the great Killian secret that I’m supposed to be keeping.’

  ‘You mean you haven’t guessed it already?’ he said, surprised.

  ‘Probably. I’d just like to hear –’ She stopped, abruptly, as the telephone rang. She looked at it, then back to him. ‘It won’t be them again,’ she said, as though to reassure herself.

  ‘Would you like me to answer?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes. Just in case. It might be good for them to hear a male voice.’

  ‘Hello?’ he said, lifting the receiver.

  ‘Hello? Chris? Is that you?’

  ‘Bean,’ he declared, turning to waggle his eyebrows at Rachel.

  ‘Ah-ha, it’s you I’m after,’ Beanie told him. ‘Are you still going to Penzance?’

  ‘I am. Do you need something?’

  ‘I want to come along. I don’t like taking the motorbike that far, and I need to change my library books.’

  ‘Be my guest,’ he told her. ‘Rachel’s coming too.’

  ‘Is she? Wonderful. She needs to get out more. Holler as you go by, I’ll be ready when you are.’

  Putting the phone down, he said jokingly to Rachel, ‘Well, it seems we’ve got ourselves a chaperone.’

  Immediately Rachel stiffened.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, looking uncomfortable too. ‘Bad choice of words. I meant, we’ve got company.’

  Though she attempted a smile, she was already searching for an excuse not to go, until finally common sense prevailed, as she saw that it would be ridiculous not to, when she really didn’t want to stay here alone. ‘OK, I’ll just call Laurie,’ she said.

  As she took the phone upstairs he finished the rest of his beer, then went to pop the bottle in the bin. Though still annoyed by his faux pas, he was thinking more about everything else she’d just told him, the most important aspects of which, for the moment, were that she’d had no contact with Katherine herself – which hadn’t really been expected, but still had to be checked – and that the four million dollars was on its way back to Franz Koehler. He’d also learned how far Laurie Forbes had got in her investigation, which had turned out to be further than they realized, though no links had yet been established between Tim Hendon and Phraxos. The copy of The Magus that was lying on the table hadn’t been a great surprise, for both Laurie and Rachel were obviously well-read women, so it wouldn’t have taken much for them to make that connection. However, that in itself wasn’t going to get them very far, other than to give a little insight into Franz Koehler’s character. It was Elliot Russell’s investigation which could prove the single most serious threat, to Phraxos and its investors.

  His prime concern right now though, was for Rachel to continue feeling she could trust him, and so far, with the exception of the gaffe about a chaperone, which would repel any woman who was so recently bereaved and pregnant, they seemed to be off to a reasonably good start. Which meant that Franz Koehler’s idea of capitalizing on the extreme good fortune of him having a home near Killian was already paying off, and in exactly the way Koehler had predicted, for being the smooth strategist he was, Koehler had timed his most recent phone call to coincide with Chris being there to catch the distress.

  Laurie’s face was colourless, and strained, as she stood in front of the door, looking back at Elliot. He too looked tense, as he stared hard into her eyes.

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t do this,’ he said gruffly. ‘I know we need to talk, but this isn’t going to make it happen.’

  ‘We’ve talked before,’ she reminded him, ‘and nothing ever changes. So I’ve decided to face it, even if you won’t. There’s no point to our relationship, and I can’t go on unless there is one.’

  ‘Isn’t the point that we’re together, that it works …’

  ‘It works for you! Not for me. And the truth is it only works for you because it eases your conscience. You don’t love me – no, listen,’ she snapped as he started to interrupt. ‘I know you’re about to tell me you do, because you always say it when you’re going to lose me. And the only reason you want to keep me is because you still haven’t finished doing penance for my sister’s death.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ he cried. ‘It’s you who can’t get over it. You who feels guilty at being in this relationship, because you think you’ve stolen something of hers. But it was over between me and Lysette before she died …’

  ‘The night she died,’ Laurie corrected. ‘You ended it that night.’

  His eyes turned suddenly hard, and angry. ‘So it’s my fault?’ he ch
allenged.

  ‘No, it’s all our faults, including hers. You ended that relationship cruelly, and you know it. She was heartbroken. She really loved you, and because I did too I wouldn’t listen when she called, needing to talk.’

  ‘Just stop this,’ he growled. ‘We’ve been over it a thousand times, and you’re still no closer to forgiving yourself, or me, or her, and it’s damned well time you did.’

  ‘No, it’s time you did, because you’re the one who’s holding on to me out of fear that I’ll do the same as she did. Well, I’m not Lysette. I’m not going to kill myself. I’m just going to get out of a relationship that only one of us really wants.’

  ‘Since when did you start deciding what I do, or don’t want?’

  ‘It was you who made the decision on how this relationship was going to be, how it could work for you without interfering too much with your life, while what I want, or how it might work for me, doesn’t even feature. You don’t even think about it. You don’t even know that I’m here half the time, unless we’ve got a story to discuss. No. I don’t want to argue any more. I’ve made up my mind. I’m going now. I’ll be staying at Rhona’s if you need to get hold of me.’

  As she picked up her bags he dashed a hand angrily through his hair. ‘Laurie, listen,’ he implored. ‘If you won’t stay for us, then stay because …’

  ‘I don’t want to discuss it any more,’ she said.

  ‘For God’s sake, this is not a good time to go, and you know it,’ he raged. ‘The information I gave you today is going to put you in danger if you follow up on it, and I know you will. So please, at least stay until this is over. I’m going to help you, I’ve already told you that, and it’ll be easier, safer, if you’re here.’

  Her face had turned paler than ever, for what he was saying was true, but they hadn’t lived together during the Ashby case and she’d been in danger then and survived. And now she’d got this far, she couldn’t allow herself to back down again.

  ‘Thank you for your concern,’ she said quietly, ‘but I’ve told Rhona to expect me, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.’ Her eyes suddenly flashed as she belatedly realized how he hadn’t used his heart to keep her, just his damnable chauvinism, and before she could stop herself, she spat, ‘And I’m especially not going to stay in order to pander to your male ego.’