Heavenly Heirs

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Heavenly Heirs Page 11

by Fox Brison


  “He must have truly loved her. I know just how difficult it can be to walk away from your family, no matter how despicable they may be. The ties that bind us to our parents are the hardest to cut, and often need something as awful as the ultimatum Tommy was given to eventually force us to sever them completely.”

  “You’ve no idea how much they loved each other, Devon. I would wish to someday feel something half as strong. Anyway. His family blackballed him from most firms in the city to try and get him back in the fold. Tommy was appalled they’d play God with his life this way. He found a couple of menial jobs to tide them over. Louise… she thought about leaving him. She could see how it was eating him up inside, but then she found out she was pregnant and the absolute joy on his face when she told him… well she knew they were meant to be together forever. Tommy finally called on an old friend in Australia and was told there’d be a job for him out there if he wanted it. They were all packed up and ready to go, but there was still some paperwork to finish. I took Ruth out to give them some peace for a few hours. I went to my girlfriend’s place for hot chocolate… the day was bitterly cold and Tommy must have turned the heating up for Ruth and I returning, only the boiler was faulty and when we…” I gulped. “It was too late, they were gone.”

  “Oh Rachel,” I choked on the sobs and Devon pulled me close. I was ruining her silk shirt, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  “Tommy’s family didn’t even come to the funeral.” Anger bubbled briefly before being smothered once more by grief. “They even had the cheek to ask for a DNA test. That’s when I thought, screw ‘em, Ruth’s better off without them in her life. She’s so remarkable considering what she lost. The only blessing is she can’t remember… it’s all so unfair. We’d had such a shit life, you know? Foster care, living on the streets and finally we were making something of ourselves…” Devon continued to listen. She gently stroked my hair, and I closed my eyes. I could easily stay in her arms forever. Sure she was a little damaged, but show me a woman who wasn’t. I was quiet for a moment, remembering Louise and then I suddenly laughed. “The only thing that made Lou and I different was when I discovered that I liked girls and she liked boys.” Devon chuckled and I felt the mood lift a little. She seemed the perfect woman, at least for these parts she seemed the perfect woman. Kind, funny, articulate…

  “Rachel?” she asked and I realised I’d very rudely drifted off into a world of my own.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t know why I told you all this, I rarely share and now I’ve told you all of my deepest secrets…”

  “A wise woman once told me it’s sometimes easier to share with a stranger than with a friend.”

  “Hmm... not sure about the wise part, some days I think I’m drowning and I struggle to make sense of it all.” I slowly pulled myself together and relished the warmth and safety her embrace afforded me. “My whole life changed in the blink of an afternoon”

  “Words escape me, Rachel. Was there an investigation into Tommy and Louise’s deaths?”

  “Yes, the landlord was found to be at fault.”

  “So you got compensation?”

  “No, not a penny. He went bankrupt and most of his holdings were in his wife and daughter’s name.”

  “It’s hard to believe people still get away with these things in this day and age.”

  “I know. Sometimes I wonder if there is a God up there, but then, you know, I have Ruth when she could have been taken from me either by the carbon monoxide or Tommy’s family. I have Eli and Jessie and Mrs Jessop. I have a safe, clean and warm home with food on the table.”

  “And they have you guys too,” Devon added. “And who was it, Ted? The Tinker? The kid whose board you painted? And those people in the alley? They have you too. You’re a rare breed, Rachel McTavers.”

  “I just do what I can, you know? Nothing special. We’ve been given so much support, with the flat, my job… it makes sense to help each other. Mrs Jessop said it’s what it used to be like.”

  “Unfortunately nowadays most of us are so focussed on the material, on the selfish wants and desires…” she chuckled. “I’m sorry my boss, Celeste, this is one of her favourite rants. She’s generous and kind-hearted too. You two would get on like a house on fire.”

  “We would?” I tilted my head. “Are you thinking of setting us up?”

  “No,” Devon said and kissed my cheek. “No, I’m one of those terribly selfish people, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to keep you all for myself.” Suddenly she stood up and I almost fell off the sofa. She walked to the door and started putting on her coat. “It’s late, I’d better go.” She was struggling with the arms a little so I went to help. I held the coat out and she shrugged it on.

  “Are you sure?” I was a little taken aback by the abruptness of her incipient departure.

  “No,” she ran a frustrated hand through her hair, “I’m not sure about anything, Rachel. I’m not good… not really… you know? I want to be, which is why I’m leaving.”

  “What?” I genuinely didn’t have a clue. “What aren’t you good at?”

  “Dating. Then there’s Ruth, you know?”

  Ah. Yes. My daughter. Here we go, the cold bucket of water arrived to bring her to her senses. What would a professional, successful woman want with a waitress with a seven year old kid? “I understand, Devon. No worries, yeah?”

  “Really? You understood that? I’m not even certain I did.”

  “Yes I understand. I know a child can be a drag, but I have to-”

  “Put her first. I totally agree.”

  “You do?”

  “I do. I didn’t mean you having a kid was a problem, not at all.”

  I smiled in relief. “So how about if we don’t overthink this and just let what will be, will be, okay?”

  “Okay,” the panic left her eyes. “Good. Tomorrow?” Her hand was resting on the door handle and she turned.

  “Tomorrow.”

  Then she kissed me on the lips and I swear I was in a regency romance and swooned.

  Chapter 20

  Devon

  Wednesday 14th of December, 2016

  After spending the last few days with Rachel I was more determined than ever to put this case to bed. For anyone looking in from the outside I was working more hours here than I was ever before, but the time I spent with Rachel couldn’t be described as work it was way too enjoyable.

  I arrived at the office just before six am. I was once again having trouble sleeping only this time it was because my dreams were dominated by soft blonde curls and even softer lips, rather than dastardly deeds. Approaching the now familiar Heavenly Heir’s office door I saw a light beyond, and as I got closer I heard the familiar clackety clack of computer keys. I wasn’t the only insomniac on the team, because apparently Hannah suffered the same affliction.

  “What time did you get in?” I asked.

  “I never left.”

  I stopped filling the coffee machine with water and turned around. “Han, you’re going to make yourself sick.” It had taken me more than a few weeks to get used to Hannah again. I had tried keeping her at arm’s length, but she was like a parasitic worm and wriggled her way in slowly, munching away at my defensive walls (and at times personal space) until I admitted defeat. She was now the Isles to my Rizzoli, or maybe it was the reverse. Either way we made a good team.

  “I’m alright. I can survive on two hours sleep a night,” she took a sip from the can of Red Bull that was ever present on her desk. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was something stronger in there. “And it’s just as well, because it’s going to take everything I’ve got to crack this case. Are you sure Rachel McTavers isn’t a ghost, cos I’m struggling to find even a crumb. She has no credit history, no driver’s license, hell it doesn’t even look like she has any bills. So far the only document I can find is her council rent book.” I could tell Hannah was frustrated as she muttered something about off the grid.

  “L
et’s look at this positively. Nothing found might simply mean there’s nothing there to find. You would have uncovered a criminal record by now, wouldn’t you?” Hannah nodded slowly. She could see where I was heading. “And no credit history simply means she pays her bills on time and hasn’t loans or credit cards because some people just don’t like to have a debt hanging over their heads.”

  “Silver linings I guess,” Hannah looked disappointed and I chuckled at her downcast expression.

  “I got something at dinner that might cheer you up. Rachel-”

  “Woah, there horsey. You had dinner with Rachel after the council meeting?”

  “Yes. I gave her a lift home and she fed me stew and homemade bread,” I said dreamily. “It was scrumptious.”

  “You get all the luck, dude. If Celeste had made me lead on this case I would’ve been eating delicious home cooked food with a gorgeous woman, instead I’m stuck here with half a Mars bar and a tube of Pringles.”

  “What flavour?”

  “Cheese nacho.”

  “So not all bad then?” I said with mock seriousness.

  “Nah, I guess not. So come on, what did you find out?”

  “Rachel was in foster care most of her life. Not sure why, I didn’t want to push, and Ruth isn’t Rachel’s daughter, she’s her niece. Rachel had a sister called Louise. She married someone called Tommy, about eight years ago I’d guess from the timeline in the story.”

  “Hurrah and praise you Jesus, finally something I can work with.” Hannah started flicking her computer screen, boxes opening and flying as she began more comprehensive searches. “Adoption records are a lock down for the minute, so Ruth is still a no go…” she muttered, “marriage certificate for the parents would be an easier find… What was Tommy’s surname?” She looked at me when I didn’t answer. “Tommy? Surname?”

  “I don’t know.” I grimaced, aware of what was coming next.

  “Bloody hell, Devon, talk about false dawns, we’re right back where we started!”

  Yep, there it was.

  “I’m sorry, Hannah, but don’t you think if I’d interrupted Rachel whilst she was in the middle of one of the most heart breaking stories I’ve ever heard saying, ‘excuse me, I understand how sad you must be, but what were their surnames?’ it might have been just a tad suspicious?” I defended myself. “God if only you knew what she’s been through, Han. It’s a miracle she not only survived but is still, somehow, able to find the good in people.” We were both silent for a minute, the hum of the computer the only discernible noise.

  “So where are they now?” Hannah asked softly, though I think she’d probably guessed. “Tommy and Louise?”

  “They’re dead, coming up seven years. Carbon monoxide-” we both looked up, eagerly. “There was an investigation.” I added.

  “There’s bound to be newspaper reports too!” Hannah exclaimed.

  “It would have been under seven years ago, Ruth was still a baby. Can you do a search with those parameters? Louise, Tommy, carbon monoxide poisoning? Or are they still too vague?”

  “Vague? Vague’s my middle name. Actually,” she coloured, “it’s Vogue but vague is close enough. You know what, Devon, if you weren’t my boss and hadn’t fired me in the past… and weren’t so uptight, I could kiss you right now.”

  “And, Hannah, if you weren’t a nerd and as irritating as hell, I’d kiss you right back.” We grinned at each other. This was the big break we’d been waiting for, I was sure of it.

  “Those parameters will do nicely, methinks. It might take two or three days, some local papers don’t have copies online that go as far back as 2009.”

  “It’s the missing corner piece in the puzzle. Once we know Ruth’s complete familial background, we should be good to go!”

  By the time the office was full, or rather by the time Celeste and Jane arrived, we were no further forward. Hannah had at least found a reference to the deaths, but it only mentioned a young couple dying in their home. “Four hours and that’s it?” I asked.

  “Yep. Nada. Nowt. Nothing!” Hannah exclaimed in an Italian accent. It was another reference to some obscure film, something she was always doing, and I didn’t have a clue what movie it came from most of the time. “If only we knew exactly where the flat was, we might have more luck. Police records might be a better option, but you’d still need their surnames and I think you’d have to apply through proper channels.” Hannah rubbed her eyes. She was deflated and I was growing desperate. “Hey, Jane, how’s you?”

  “Not bad,” Jane eased herself into a chair next to us. “My hip’s playing up. Shouldn’t have been swinging last night.”

  Hannah actually stopped swiping her computer screen at that.

  “Swinging?” I didn’t want to ask, but it was like a car crash, you just had to slow down and look.

  “Yes. We took our grandchildren to the park and I wanted to show them how high I could go.” Hannah and I both sighed in relief.

  “Now that you’re here,” I suddenly had a brainwave, “can I put you to use, or are you off again?”

  “I’m leaving on Thursday for Norwich. I’ve managed to track down three generations so far and it appears Rachel’s, hopefully, great-grandfather was born in a small parish outside the city itself. I’m meeting with one of the deacons to look through the records and get a copy of the birth record.”

  “Perfect. I need you to head to,” I checked the name of the local paper, “the Haringey Herald’s office. You’re looking for papers after the 21st of December 2009 and for references to the death of a Tommy and Louise something due to carbon monoxide poisoning.”

  “Death… carbon monoxide… 21st… surnames?” Jane was jotting the information down in her notebook. She caught Hannah grinning, and me looking a little shame faced. “Devon?”

  “We don’t have them,” I admitted.

  “Not a problem, I wasn’t the village Where’s Wally champion for three years in a row for nothing,” Jane said proudly as I looked at her blankly

  Where’s Wally champion? I hadn’t realised there was such a thing.

  “Right, I’ll go down there after I drop these,” Jane showed me a sheaf of birth, marriage and death certificates, “with the big boss. Catch you later.”

  “So what now?” Hannah took a handful of crisps. God her stomach must be cast iron.

  “Han, maybe…” I dropped my eyes. No it was a bad idea.

  “Maybe?” she prodded.

  “You’ve worked here longer than I have. Would a slightly more left field search help Rachel?”

  “No it wouldn’t,” came the calm voice from behind. I swivelled in my chair. Celeste was behind us with a serene expression on her face, and the sun shining through the hexagonal skylight produced a shimmer of light above her head. She looked like a little angel but for the daggers of censure that flared in her eyes that is. “Devon, may I see you in my office? I think we need to have a discussion about appropriate work practises.” Hannah grimaced in a silent sign of solidarity as I followed Celeste to her office with a mounting sense of unease.

  Taking a seat I felt worse than the time I was sent to my old headmistress’s office after being caught with Saffron Taylor in the sports equipment shed. “Devon, I’m going to admit when I received your application for this job, I was unsure. And after reading your bio, I was downright against it.”

  “Good to know, Celeste. Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I was as sarcastic now I was then.

  “But my master sees all and knows all, and who are we, mere tools for his might, to argue. And I must say up until this moment, I have been impressed. Helping the homeless charity to stay in their current location, your dedication when volunteering for out of hours surveillance, yes indeed, very impressed. However, I’m extremely disappointed, and not a little wary, by what I just overheard.”

  I felt like I’d just kicked her puppy. “I’m sorry, Celeste, I just thought we had smidgen of a lead and if we followed it-”

&nb
sp; “I appreciate that, Devon, but I thought we’d discussed Flood and Williams showing an interest in anything untoward, and how it wouldn’t take much to nullify Rachel’s claim.” She drummed the pencil she was holding on her desk and pursed her lips. “What in the heavens were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking I wanted this case to be over and for Rachel to have the money. She deserves the money, Celeste.”

  “I agree, I read your initial report over the weekend. But she has managed without five hundred million pounds for this long, and she will have to manage without it for a lot longer if you become reckless.” I guess she could see my hackles were up by this point, because she held up a conciliatory hand. “I don’t want to treat you like an idiot, Devon, telling you to mindlessly obey my orders, because there are reasons for each and every one of my decisions. Sometimes you don’t need to know why I make them, sometimes you do. This time I will explain. Have I ever told you about Jackie Johnson?”

  I frowned as I thought about it. “The name seems familiar,” but I couldn’t quite pull it from my memory.

  “Jackie was a wonderful woman, truly remarkable. It was in the seventies, 1975 to be precise, when my mother was in charge of Heavenly Heirs and she unearthed what she thought was a link between Jackie and the Gideon family.”

  “Then why didn’t she inherit?”

  “A couple of reasons. Flood and Williams got wind and used every little trick in the book to sully her name and Jackie couldn’t take the invasion into her privacy…” Celeste was fighting tears, “some of the things they said were truly, truly awful and repugnant. They painted her as a crazed feminist for marching for women’s rights such as contraception and the sex discrimination act of 1975, brought up everything private detail of her life including the fact she was unmarried yet lived with several young women, and finally claimed she was promiscuous having unprotected sex and a subsequent abortion-”

  “And she was considered righteous?” I asked in surprise. I mean, not to defend the indefensible, but on this occasion it sounded as if Flood and Williams were well within their rights to object.

 

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