THE JAGGED LINE

by Carolyn Mahony

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Luke said, stooping to kiss her briefly on the cheek.

  Unprepared as she was for seeing him, her immediate impulse was to slide her arms around his firm, familiar body and cling on tight – drawing from the pool of strength only he could offer. The feel of his skin on hers as his lips brushed her cheek, the familiar scent of him, got to her before she could erect the barriers. Her heart contracted with physical pain. Oh Luke, she thought. How could I have been so stupid?

  She cleared her throat, hoping that none of these emotions showed. ‘Thanks.’

  He squeezed her hand. ‘I’ll catch up with you later.’ But she doubted he would. He’d come to pay his respects to her father, someone who, despite the fact that they were so different, he’d liked and got on with – and she suspected he’d leave as soon as it was polite to do so.

  She watched him move off into the room and then someone else was taking her hand, kissing her cheek, saying how sorry they were.

  The next hour passed in a blur and she almost forgot about Luke in the sea of well-wishers who queued up to pass on their own personal memories and stories of Dominic Cartwright.

  Tony Jordan and Bob Grose, her father’s two closest friends who’d spoken at the memorial service, were standing protectively around her mother, she noticed, and her heart went out to them. They’d been a part of her mother’s life for so long and now they anchored her, steadying her when she might have faltered. Over in one corner she could see DS Briscombe trying to look unobtrusive as he took stock of the people there. Was it a sign that he thought there was more to her father’s death than an accident that he’d come? She’d give anything to know.

  ‘Hello, Kirsty.’

  She froze. She didn’t need to look around to recognise that voice. She turned slowly.

  ‘Simon.’

  His dark good looks were even more striking in the sombre black suit he was wearing, the vivid pale blue of his eyes even more arresting as he looked at her warily.

  ‘I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, but we go back a long way, your family and mine. I couldn’t not come. Terrible shock – your poor mother. I thought Dad’s address was very moving.’

  ‘Yes.’ Her response was terse.

  ‘You’re still upset with me.’

  ‘What do you expect?’

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t know why you and Luke made such a big deal of it. It was one night and we were pissed. Lots of people do stupid things when they’ve been drinking – I bet Luke’s no saint.’

  She cast a quick glance round to make sure they were out of earshot. ‘I don’t want to have this conversation with you now, Simon, but you just don’t get it, do you? You know exactly why Luke could never forgive that. I would have told him in my own time. The fact that you had to go blabbing about it to everyone, knowing the harm it would do…’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’d had a few pints. I was chuffed I’d pulled you – you know I’ve always liked you.’

  ‘And you knew I didn’t feel the same.’

  ‘I know that’s what you said, but I’d say that’s debatable after what happened, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘No,’ she said shortly. But she was confused. She’d known him all her life, for God’s sake … had never thought of him in that way apart from that brief crush when she was fifteen, and he’d soon put paid to that.

  As always, the memory of that night made her uncomfortable. It had so nearly become more than just a crush. If she hadn’t stopped him when she had…

  ‘Come on, Kirsty, there’s always been a connection between us. Why won’t you just admit it?’

  ‘Because I love Luke, and any connection there may have been is long gone.’

  He shrugged. ‘I know that’s what you want to believe … but I have very enjoyable memories of our night together.’ The glint in his eye challenged her to deny it. ‘– As I’m sure you do if you were being honest about it.’

  ‘I don’t even remember it,’ she said cuttingly. ‘And that’s the truth of it.’

  She could see she’d hit her mark, and she knew him well enough to know that whatever was coming next it would be biting. He didn’t disappoint her.

  ‘Well, for your information, it was a memorable lay – one of the best. I think you’d remember that if you let yourself.’

  One up to him. She saw red. Had to physically prevent herself from hitting him. But she remembered where she was – the occasion.

  ‘This isn’t an appropriate conversation, Simon.’

  His expression lightened. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to argue with you. And for our parents’ sake we shouldn’t let this come between years of friendship. Maybe we can go out for a drink sometime, you, me and Robbie? Like the old days?’

  He was unsettling her, tapping into her confusion so that for a moment she even found herself considering it. But she could never do it – it would feel like a double betrayal to Luke even if he no longer gave a damn.

  ‘That’s not going to happen. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure Mum’s alright.’

  She stalked off, head held high, but inside she was mortified. She hadn’t thought it was possible to feel any worse than she already did, but she’d been kidding herself. Coming back had opened up a host of wounds that still needed to be dealt with.

  ‘Hey … you okay?’ It was Rachael, slipping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her towards a quiet spot in the corner.

  She nodded.

  ‘I saw you talking to Simon.’

  Kirsty looked over to where he was now locked in serious conversation with her brother. Just briefly, they both looked her way.

  ‘He’s a bastard.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Just trying to defend himself over what he did.’

  Rachael’s eyes were sympathetic, but there was also a deep understanding in her gaze. ‘You know, honey, it happened – whether or not he let the cat out of the bag. Maybe you need to ask yourself why?’

  Kirsty looked at her in frustration, but she knew her cousin’s words were well intended – spoken out of a desire to help rather than to criticise. She’d always been the more sensible one, and Kirsty respected her opinions.

  ‘You’re not going to start saying that I secretly fancy him as well, are you? Because that’s what he’s implying.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare, only you can know that–’

  ‘Yeah, and I absolutely know that I don’t. I’m disgusted with myself.’

  ‘Then end of story – put it behind you and move on.’

  ‘Without Luke…’ It was more a statement than a question.

  Her cousin’s expression was wry. ‘We both know Luke’s not easily going to forgive something like that, given his history.’

  And that was the truth of it. If nothing else, it made her feel better about the decision she’d taken to go to France. Staying would only have added to her misery.

  ‘It’s so good of your mum to have the funeral before my wedding,’ Rachael said, changing the subject. ‘Thank her for me, will you? I know it will be really sad that Uncle Dom’s not there, but …’

  ‘Of course I will. She was a man on a mission, I can tell you. I don’t know how we managed to pull it together so quickly, but I don’t think it was just about you. You know what she’s like … Needs to tick the boxes as quickly as she can.’

  Rachael smiled. ‘I do know, but I’m grateful all the same.’

  ‘Kirsty?’

  Robbie was at her shoulder. ‘Can I have a word?’

  ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Rachael said, giving her arm a quick squeeze. ‘Catch you later.’

  Her brother was looking irritated. ‘I was just talking to Simon.’

  ‘I saw.’

  ‘Can’t you cut him some slack? You have to accept that what happened was as much your fault as his and move on. We have to work with him. It could make things very awkward if you keep up the hostilities the whole time.’
>
  ‘He acted like an arse.’

  ‘I know he did. But maybe it’s about time you acknowledged that you didn’t act much better. You’re the one who was engaged, not him.’

  ‘Thanks, Rob.’

  Her brother shrugged. ‘I’m simply pointing out that you were both at fault. We all need to move on from it.’

  ‘And maybe we should think about using another firm of solicitors to do our stuff? Don’t you sometimes think it’s a bit incestuous, the relationship we have with Jordan’s?’

  Rob looked like he was about to have an apoplexy.

  ‘Kirsty, we’ve worked with Jordan’s for the last forty years. You can’t come marching in, staking a claim to the business and demanding that we change everything, just because you slept with a guy and now regret it.’

  He wasn’t pulling any punches – and put like that it made her look unprofessional, which was the last thing she needed when she was trying to convince everyone she was a credible partner for the firm.

  ‘I’m sorry. I just think–’

  ‘Well, don’t – leave that to me for the time being and you concentrate on learning the business and helping Mum. And if you’re serious about wanting to be part of Cartwrights, then the first thing you have to realise is that sometimes you have to compromise – and that includes keeping personal feelings out of business dealings. Think on it.’

  She watched bleakly as, without another word, he turned and strode away from her. Had he always been that arrogant? She felt disloyal thinking it. He’d always had that dominant streak – like their father – but these days she was finding him increasingly difficult to deal with. Hot tears welled up. She felt useless. Useless. She needed a drink. She looked around and saw someone with a tray.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, moving over and helping herself to a glass of white wine. She took a large gulp, felt it hit her bloodstream. That was better. She took some more.

  ‘You okay?’

  It was Luke this time, his brown eyes concerned.

  He looked so debonair, she thought, in his dark jacket and tie. His hair was longer, and he seemed to be growing a beard. She liked it. She was glad that she’d taken some care over choosing what she was going to wear today. Mostly she’d chosen the black and grey, fitted dress and chic, silver-grey scarf because it was appropriately sombre without looking too gloomy, which her father would never have approved of. Now she was pleased that with the black heels she was wearing, she felt suitably confident to hold her head high.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Stupid question. I know how much you loved your dad. You must be feeling dreadful.’

  The lump in her throat was so tight she thought it might choke her. She took another swig of her wine and felt it swish through her system. She needed to slow down, not fall into the trap of drowning her sorrows. She put her glass carefully down onto a table next to them.

  ‘It’s just not knowing what happened,’ she said into the silence that had developed. She hesitated before adding. ‘There’s a chance he could have been murdered.’

  It was the first time she’d said the word out loud and it sounded shocking even to her own ears. Had she said it as a genuine cry for help or as a way of getting his attention? She wasn’t sure, but she had his attention now alright, and it was an exquisite feeling.

  ‘What? What are you talking about? I thought it was an accident.’

  ‘That’s what everyone seems to want us to believe – but I’m not so sure.’

  ‘Why not?’

  She shouldn’t be talking about this now. Rob would kill her if he knew. But she needed to offload to someone. She glanced quickly around before bringing her eyes back to his face.

  ‘Did you read about that guy who was murdered in Brookmans Park last week?’

  Luke nodded.

  ‘He was one of our tenants. Dad went to see his girlfriend a couple of days later to offer his condolences. The same day he was killed.’

  ‘And?’

  She shrugged. ‘There’s not a lot to go on, but she told me that her boyfriend knew something and that she’d told Dad that.’

  She could see the doubt in Luke’s eyes. ‘That doesn’t mean there’s a link necessarily. What do the police say?’

  She shrugged. ‘Oh, they won’t commit to anything, and Robbie thinks I’m being paranoid, but …’ She looked around, then lowered her voice. ‘I’m meeting up with the guy’s girlfriend tonight. She says she’s got something to tell me.’

  He frowned. ‘Is that a good idea? Shouldn’t she just go to the police and tell them?’

  ‘Of course she should, but she’s too frightened to.’

  ‘Christ, Kirsty, don’t put yourself in danger.’

  He ran a hand through his hair. She remembered how he always did that when he was frustrated by stuff – or worried. ‘You shouldn’t–’

  ‘If you’re going to start sounding off like Robbie and telling me what I should or shouldn’t be doing, I’m out of here. Don’t you realise this is my father we’re talking about? I need to know what happened to him, Luke.’

  ‘Okay, okay, I get it – just be careful, okay?’

  She straightened her back. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not your problem anymore and I’ll be fine.’ Her voice was flippant, as if she didn’t give a damn. ‘I’d better get on and mingle. It’s nice to see you, Luke.’

  ‘You, too. Look … You know you can always call me? Promise me you’ll be careful tonight?’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  ‘Where are you meeting this woman?’

  ‘The Curry Buffet.’

  ‘Does anyone else know you’re meeting up?’

  ‘No.’

  He hesitated. ‘Would you like me to come with you?’

  Of course she would, but she had some pride. ‘Thanks for offering, but I’ll be fine – and she’ll probably be happier if it’s just me.’

  Was that relief in his eyes? ‘Okay. But do me a favour? Text me when you get home, so I know you’re okay?’

  She nodded and that stupid heart did a flip. At least he cared enough to worry about her getting home safely.

  ‘I take it you’re all still going to Rachael’s wedding?’ he said.

  ‘I think so. As long as Mum’s up to it. You?’ She didn’t look at him as she asked the question.

  ‘Yes. I guess I’ll see you there, then.’

  He didn’t look overjoyed at the prospect and she found herself saying waspishly, ‘You needn’t worry. I won’t embarrass you.’

  He shrugged. ‘You can do what you like, Kirsty. As you said, you’re not my problem anymore.’

  Harry looked around him, taking it all in as unobtrusively as he could. He never felt comfortable at these events, especially when he was there as part of an investigation. The thought came to him and was instantly dismissed, that it might not be too long before he was attending a funeral service that wasn’t business. He’d had another sleepless night last night and knew his grandmother had also been awake for most of it. He’d heard her radio, even though it was running on quiet.

  ‘DS Briscombe?’

  It was Kirsty Cartwright standing in front of him. Her blonde hair sat stylishly on her shoulders, and she looked self-possessed and elegant as she offered him a sandwich from a plate.

  ‘You might as well,’ she said, when he hesitated. ‘We’ve ordered far too much food. We weren’t sure how many people would be coming back for this part of the proceedings.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He took a couple of sandwiches.

  ‘Have you found out anything new about Dad’s accident?’

  ‘Nothing, I’m afraid. We always hope for CCTV footage in these circumstances, but unfortunately your father’s accident happened in a quiet residential road that isn’t covered. Although–’

  He broke off, wondering how much to say. He didn’t want to start feeding unwarranted suspicion. On the other hand … things weren’t progressing as quickly as he’d like.

  ‘The CCTV on th
e main road did happen to show Simon Jordan walking into a pub on the corner of the main road and Buxton Road, where the accident happened. Is there any chance he could have been meeting your father, do you think?’

  Kirsty’s brow furrowed as she shook her head. ‘He’s not said anything. Have you asked him?’

  ‘Yes, just now.’ Harry shrugged and took a bite from his sandwich. ‘He said he was nipping in for a quick pint before meeting a client at the golf club, and had no idea your father was nearby.’

  ‘But you don’t believe him?’

  ‘I’m not saying that at all. He sounded genuine. Said he heard the sirens and felt terrible later, when he realised that they were probably for your father.’

  ‘Our families have known each other forever…’

  She looked at him probingly, and he felt uncomfortable, realising that something significant was about to be asked.

  ‘My brother thinks I’m being paranoid, wondering if it wasn’t an accident. Am I?’

  He hesitated, giving her question fair consideration. ‘I wouldn’t say that. The most likely scenario is that it was an accident. But there are a couple of factors that we need to check out before we can categorically state that.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Mostly just making sure there’s nothing to link the two deaths apart from the obvious fact that Paul Copeland and your father knew each other. We’ve not found anything so far.’

  She nodded – looked for a moment as if she was about to say something more – then pursed her lips firmly and gave a thin smile. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’d better get on and mingle. You will keep us posted?’

  ‘Of course.’

  He watched her go, and wondered what it was that she’d decided not to share with him.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN