The Beaufort Sisters

by Jon Cleary

  His face closed up, but in the darkness of the car she did not see it. ‘Do you resent all our – help?’ He wondered if help was the right word.

  ‘No, no.’ She felt for his hand, held it reassuringly. ‘But everyone is – I don’t know. So protective. You all seem more concerned that I should not be – hurt. More than that I should possibly be happy.’

  It took him a moment or two to say, ‘You sound as if you would rather take a chance. I mean, on his being Michael.’

  ‘He is Michael,’ she said. ‘I don’t need any proof.’

  Magnus said nothing. In front of them George Biff sat stiffly behind the wheel. He, too, had decided that the Australian was Michael. But he could understand how Mr Magnus and the others must be feeling. Let bygones be bygones …

  Dave Pedemont, the private investigator, was waiting in the drawing-room when Magnus and Nina arrived home. ‘I came early, like you said, Mr McKea. Evening, Mrs McKea.’

  Nina nodded, not at all interested in the man, not wanting him here.

  ‘I think it best if you wait in the study,’ Magnus said. ‘We’ll bring you in after Mr Harvest has arrived. You’re sure you don’t mind doing this for us?’

  ‘Like I explained, I felt you had a prior right. I once worked for Mr Beaufort, Mrs McKea’s father – ’

  Nina showed interest in him for the first time. ‘What did you do for my father?’

  Pedemont knew he had made a slip. He had to keep a tight rein on his memory. He had been trailing this woman’s husband, the guy Davoren, before he had left her: he had to keep that straight in his mind. ‘I – it was when your husband first disappeared, Mrs McKea. Your first husband, I mean. I – your father didn’t think I was big enough, I mean had a big enough organization, to go through with the whole investigation. I’m bigger now, of course. Four men working for me. Associates in every State.’

  Magnus said, ‘Would you come through to the study?’

  Five minutes later the others arrived: the Alburns, the Lu mans, the Devons. Nina, looking around, once again felt the pang that had become increasingly frequent in the years since her father’s death. The Beaufort name was no more. There would still be all the enterprises bearing the name, the empire was still there; but all those brass plates, billboards, letterheads, were now just echoes of Lucas and Thaddeus. For a cold moment she felt she was standing by open graves, the headstones for which had already been erected.

  ‘Do you think he’ll put in an appearance?’ Margaret said.

  ‘He’s here,’ said Magnus. ‘You mean Pedemont?’

  ‘No, I meant Clive Harvest. Or Michael. Whatever we’re going to call him from now on.’

  ‘He’ll be here,’ said Bruce. ‘He’s on a winning streak.’

  ‘Jesus Christ.’ Charlie looked around him. ‘No booze, Nina?’

  ‘Over there,’ said Nina. ‘I think I’d better say it now. If you are all going to do a hatchet job on him, I’m leaving the room.’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ said Charlie.

  ‘I don’t think that’s our intention,’ said Roger. ‘In the end it’s going to be your decision, Nina. If this family were in different circumstances – I mean if we were all no more than blue-collar workers out in the suburbs – ’

  ‘Don’t let’s stretch our imagination too far,’ said Prue. ‘We’re us and there’s no getting away from it.’

  ‘That’s my point. We’re us. And us has money. That complicates things. Out on Wornall Road or wherever, in Little Italy, if a missing son came home the decision would be much simpler.’

  ‘You think so?’ said Nina. ‘You don’t know much about women, Roger.’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ said Sally, not looking at Charlie or indeed at any of the men. She sat down, laid her stick beside her crooked leg. ‘I’m beginning to think we women should have kept this to ourselves.’

  ‘There’s some acrimony creeping in here,’ said Magnus. ‘I don’t think our quarrel should be between ourselves. I hope we have no quarrel at all.’

  Nina passed by the back of his chair, touched the top of his head. ‘Thank you, darling.’

  Then they heard the front door being opened. It seemed to Nina that everyone, herself included, froze for a moment, like second-rate actors in a poorly directed play. Or perhaps it was only her imagination. Tonight, everything she saw, heard, thought, felt, came to her through a prism.

  It was George Biff who brought Clive Harvest into the drawing-room. The other servants had been told they were no longer needed. Nina knew there was already gossip in the servants’ quarters; she did not feel it should be added to by anything that might filter out from this meeting tonight; George would keep his mouth shut. He went out, closing the doors, and Clive Harvest stood there with his back to them, facing the family he hoped to join but which could have been mistaken for a firing squad.

  Then Nina went forward. ‘Please come in, Clive. Congratulations on your victory tonight. We’re all very pleased for you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ But he sounded as if he doubted their pleasure.

  ‘I think you’ve met everyone, haven’t you?’

  ‘No. I still haven’t met Mrs Luman and Mrs Devon.’

  ‘Oh?’ Nina was surprised. She had assumed that everything had been taken out of her hands by everyone. But somehow Sally and Prue had been overlooked. Or had wanted to be overlooked. She smiled at them warmly, recognizing now that they, at least, were on her side. ‘I’m not sure how to introduce them. I mean, if they are your aunts – ’

  Harvest shook hands with Sally first, then with Prue. There was no recognition in his eyes: he looked at Prue as at a stranger. ‘I can see you’re all sisters – ’

  ‘Families do tend to resemble each other,’ said Prue. Looking at him carefully, but for another reason than the one she stated: ‘I’m looking for the resemblance in you. You do look familiar.’

  ‘It’s there,’ said Sally. ‘A bit of both Tim and Nina. Does that make you feel better, Mr Harvest?’

  ‘A little.’

  But he seemed unworried by their scrutiny. He was less awkward, more at ease than the first time he had been in this room. He’s still deaf from the applause at the finals tonight, Margaret thought, he’s a champion. I wonder if he is going to turn round and walk out on us all?

  ‘Mr Harvest – ’ Magnus came forward with a drink. ‘Beer is your favourite, isn’t it? Well, do we get down to business or do we prolong this meeting?’

  ‘Magnus,’ said Nina warningly. She too, thought Margaret, looks much more confident than that first afternoon in here. The champion’s mother. Or her son’s champion.

  ‘Sorry. All right, Mr Harvest. I think if we had more time this matter could be settled, I mean without any doubts on our side – ’

  ‘I’m not the one in a hurry. I’ve wondered for twenty-eight years who my mother was. A few more months won’t matter. You’re the ones in a hurry, Mr McKea. Because you’re afraid I’ll go to court, get the family a lot of publicity it doesn’t want.’

  Oh, he’s so confident tonight, Margaret thought. And felt the trembling unease weakening her. Because the only way they were going to puncture that confidence would be to bring in Dave Pedemont.

  ‘He’s right,’ said Nina.

  Magnus spread a surrendering hand, as if a judge in court had upheld an objection by defending counsel. ‘Were you expecting to go into court, Mr Harvest?’

  ‘Why?’ For just a moment the confidence wavered.

  ‘Excuse me.’ Magnus went out of the room, returned with Dave Pedemont. ‘Mr Harvest, I believe you know this gentleman.’

  Harvest looked as if he had been aced. He stared at Pedemont, then slowly looked around the room at the others. ‘Money buys everything, doesn’t it?’

  ‘We didn’t buy Mr Pedemont, as you put it,’ said Magnus. ‘You made a mistake, Mr Harvest. There aren’t very many private investigators in this town. You went to the one who worked for Mr Beaufort years ago, who actually was engaged to look for Tim
Davoren.’

  Margaret was studying Pedemont, waiting for some glance of recognition towards her; but there was none. She doubted if she would have recognized him if she had passed him in the street. He was bald now, had put on a lot of weight, wore square-framed, gold-rimmed glasses; he looked prosperous, more like a businessman than the struggling private detective who had come to see her (here in this very room, she remembered with a start) all those years ago. But then, she bitterly remarked, prying into people’s private lives had become a business, a very successful one, in the past few years. Or had he become a successful blackmailer, found other women with secrets that had to be kept?

  ‘Do you want to repeat to us, Mr Pedemont, what Mr Harvest asked you to find out?’

  ‘There’s no need for him to do that,’ Harvest said slowly. ‘I’m sure he’s given you a full report. Do you double-cross all your clients like this?’

  ‘No,’ said Pedemont.

  Liar, thought Margaret. For a moment their glances met. He knows I remember whom he double-crossed.

  ‘Like Mr McKea has said, my first duty was to my original client, Mr Beaufort.’

  ‘You could have told me that when I first came to see you. You took my retainer.’

  ‘You’d have been suspicious if I hadn’t. Here it is, in full.’ Pedemont took a cheque from his pocket. ‘I’ve made it out to cash.’

  Harvest hesitated, then reached out and took the cheque. Then he looked at Nina, ignoring everyone else. ‘I’ll admit to all the questions I put to him. I just wanted to find out what sort of family I might be coming into.’

  ‘Including how much it was worth,’ said Bruce.

  Nina, without looking at Bruce, held up a silencing hand. ‘Go on, Clive.’

  ‘All that you people seem able to think about is money. I think about it, I like having it – but it’s not the be-all and end-all of everything. I don’t pick my friends or the girls I fall in love with – ’ His glance fell on Prue for just a moment, passed on. ‘I don’t pick them by how much money they have in the bank.’

  ‘We’re not talking in the same money terms,’ said Magnus, but said it almost kindly. He was watching Nina, knowing what he had to accept for the future. ‘The Beaufort money has power. A lot of it.’

  ‘Oh, you don’t have to tell me that. I’ve worried about it ever since I learned of it. I don’t know that I want to inherit any power, it means too much responsibility. The life I’ve led since I left school, all I’ve been responsible for is myself. That was why I put all those questions to Mr Pedemont here. I just wanted to find out how much responsibility I was going to inherit with the money.’

  ‘Plausible again,’ said Bruce.

  ‘Lay off him, Bruce,’ said Charlie, on his second drink.

  ‘It doesn’t worry me, Mr Luman,’ said Harvest. ‘I couldn’t care a damn now. I’m Michael Davoren, I’m sure of it. There were times when I had my own doubts – but not any more. My father was Tim Davoren and my mother is Mrs McKea. But I don’t care any more. Bugger the lot of you!’

  He put down his half-empty glass of beer, turned and had opened the doors of the drawing-room before Nina said, ‘Wait!’ He looked back at her without turning round. ‘I’d like a moment alone with you.’

  He stood very stiff and silent, then he nodded. ‘Okay. I didn’t mean to include you in that last remark.’

  Nina went out of the room, closing the doors after them. Those that were left looked around at each other.

  ‘Well,’ said Roger. ‘I said it was going to be her decision in the end.’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ said Charlie. ‘Or am I repeating myself?’

  ‘You are, darling.’ Sally stood up, began to walk around the room, as if to relieve an old pain in her leg. But she was feeling no pain at all, only relief. Perhaps, after all, she was not going to have to tell Nina about the Congo and the meeting with Tim. ‘But I think we’d better start accepting him. He’s our nephew.’

  Margaret looked at Pedemont, wanting him out of the way. ‘I think that will be all, Mr Pedemont. Thank you for coming to us. You were very helpful.’

  ‘That’s a private investigator’s job, Mrs Alburn. To be helpful.’ There was still no sign from him that he had ever met her before. But perhaps he had become successful in more ways than one: at hiding his intentions, for instance. ‘Maybe I can be of help some other time. You have my card, Mr McKea.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Magnus. ‘Send us your bill.’

  ‘No bill, Mr McKea. I got well paid a long time ago. Goodnight, all.’

  Magnus took him out to the front door and Roger said, ‘Well, he’s more honest than I expected. Giving Harvest back his retainer, not billing us – ’

  ‘He’ll be looking for business in the future,’ said Bruce. ‘It might be good policy to use him now and again. Just in case – ’

  ‘Don’t you ever trust anyone?’ said Prue. And wondered how much, in the future, she could trust the lover who had turned out to be her nephew, who had told her a moment ago that he had loved her, if only for one night. ‘Let’s go home, Roger.’

  ‘We can’t go yet. Not till Nina comes back.’

  In the study Nina stood in front of the fireplace, before the photos of her father and mother, looking at her son, trying to climb over the long blank years that had made him a stranger. It suddenly struck her that she had not even touched him since they had met. She closed her eyes, remembering the weight of the baby against her breast, the energetic life in the three-year-old boy in her arms. She opened her eyes and said, ‘I wonder what your father would say if he could see us together?’

  ‘I think he’d be pleased. It took me a long time to wake up to it, but he was always lonely. Even when we were together.’

  ‘I might come to envy you, you know. You had more of him than I did.’

  ‘Well – ’ He put out a tentative hand, touched one of hers but did not take it in his own. ‘I can tell you about him. The things we did – ’

  ‘No.’ She wanted to touch him, hold him to her. But he was too tall, too big, to hold him to her as the child she had lost all those years ago. She had lost the experience of being a mother. ‘There’s Magnus. I shouldn’t want him hurt – ’

  He nodded. ‘I like him. I think he was on my side. But the others – ’

  ‘You’ll learn to live with them. They are all nice people – really. They were just trying to protect me, there was no other reason. In case – ’ She smiled a little weakly. ‘At the start even I wasn’t sure.’

  He smiled in reply. ‘Neither was I. But now – ‘

  Then he took both her hands in his, leaned forward and kissed her softly on the cheek.

  There was a knock on the door. It opened and Magnus stood there. ‘Well?’

  ‘He is Michael,’ said Nina.

  5

  Walking back across the lawns towards their own house, Margaret took Bruce’s hand. ‘Cold?’ he said.

  ‘A little.’ With ghosts from the past.

  A security guard, doing his rounds of the estate, passed them. ‘Night, Mr and Mrs Alburn. Beautiful weather.’

  ‘Everything all right, Walt?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Everything’s secure.’

  No, thought Margaret, her grip on Bruce’s hand tightening. Nothing is secure. Not while there are secrets to be kept.

  If you enjoyed The Beaufort Sisters, check out these other great Jon Cleary titles.

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  About the Author

  Jon Cleary, who died in July 2010, was the author of over fifty novels, including The High Commissioner, which was the first in a popular detective fiction series featuring Sydney Police Inspector Scobie Malone. In 1996 he was awarded the Inaugural Ned Kelly Award for his lifetime contribution to crime fiction in Australia. His last novel, Four-Cornered Circle, was p
ublished in 2007.

  Also by the Author

  THE SCOBIE MALONE NOVELS

  The High Commissioner

  Helga's Web

  Ransom

  Dragons at the Party

  Now and Then, Amen

  Babylon South

  Murder Song

  Pride's Harvest

  Dark Summer

  Bleak Spring

  Autumn Maze

  Winter Chill

  Endpeace

  A Different Turf

  Five Ring Circus

  Dilemma

  Bear Pit

  Yesterday's Shadow

  The Easy Sin

  Degrees of Connection

  STANDALONE NOVELS

  You Can't See 'Round Corners

  The Long Shadow

  Just Let Me Be

  The Sundowners

  The Climate of Courage

  Justin Bayard (aka Dust in the Sun)

  The Green Helmet

  Back of Sunset

  North From Thursday

  The Country of Marriage

  Forests of the Night

  A Flight of Chariots

  The Fall of an Eagle

  The Pulse of Danger

  The Long Pursuit

  Season of Doubt

  Remember Jack Hoxie

  Mask of the Andes (aka The Liberators)

  Man's Estate (aka The Ninth Marquess)

  The Safe House

  Peter's Pence

  A Sound of Lightning

  High Road to China

  Vortex

  The Beaufort Sisters

  A Very Private War

  The Faraway Drums

  The Golden Sabre

  Spearfield's Daughter

  The Phoenix Tree

  The City of Fading Light

  Miss Ambar Regrets

  Morning's Gone

  Four-Cornered Circle