THE JAGGED LINE

by Carolyn Mahony

  The man snatched the card from her fingers and without another word, shut the door in her face.

  Her expression was uneasy as she walked back to the car. How had he known who she was?

  She tried to think it through logically, and came up with two possibilities – neither of which afforded her any comfort. One was that he knew she’d been asking questions about Tim Burman, and for some reason had her pegged. And the other was that he’d been aware of her all along – perhaps because he had some sort of connection to her father or Robbie. The thought of them being involved with someone like him was inconceivable – yet why had Rob deceived her just now?

  As she pulled out of her parking space, she looked in her rear-view mirror uneasily. Could someone even be following her?

  She suddenly felt very alone – and it wasn’t a pleasant sensation.

  ***

  It was eight o’clock when Harry let himself into his grandmother’s house. He noticed Claire’s car parked out on the road and felt an uplift in his spirits, but it died swiftly when she met him at the bottom of the stairs and he saw her expression.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

  ‘Your gran’s had a fall. She’s okay now. I’ve got her to bed. But she was upset and disorientated when I arrived. I don’t know how long she’d been lying there, but I think she may have twisted her ankle which might limit her mobility.’

  Harry took the stairs two at a time, stopping only to knock briefly on his grandmother’s bedroom door before entering.

  ‘Are you alright?’ he asked, hurrying to her bedside.

  ‘I’m fine, boy.’ She sounded irritable, her voice weaker than it had been. ‘No need for you to worry your head. Stupid thing. I don’t know how it happened. That damned coffee table I expect – always knocking myself on it.’

  ‘I’ll move it. Are you sure you’re okay?’

  He heard Claire at the doorway and turned. ‘Should we call the doctor?’

  She shook her head and shared a look with him. ‘She won’t let me.’

  ‘I’m fine now, I tell you. It was just uncomfortable lying there on the floor but I knew one of you would be here soon enough – good thing Claire knows where the spare key’s hidden.’

  ‘Well, I’ll be off, then, and see you tomorrow,’ Claire said. ‘Call me if there’s a problem: I can always nip over during the day if you want me to.’

  ‘Thank you, my lovely.’

  ‘I’ll see you out,’ Harry said.

  At the front door he watched as she put her coat on. ‘Do you think she’ll be okay now?’

  ‘I think so. I checked her over: nothing broken, I’m sure of that, but she’ll probably have some bruising. Call the doctor if you’re at all worried.’

  Harry nodded. ‘Luckily I’m around now for the next couple of days, barring anything urgent coming in that I get called out for. What are you up to this weekend? Anything interesting?’

  She pulled a face. ‘Family lunch on Sunday at my place. I don’t know what made me do it. It seemed like a good idea at the time – a sort of belated house-warming – but it’ll be manic. You?’

  He shrugged. ‘Nothing much. I’m meeting some mates for a drink tomorrow night, but other than that it’ll be a quiet one.’

  He could have added again, but didn’t.

  ‘Want to come along to mine on Sunday?’

  He sensed the offer was out before she’d given it any consideration … probably on the back of feeling sorry for him.

  ‘You don’t have to,’ she added quickly, when she noticed his hesitation. ‘I’m just being selfish, because I’d make you work hard for your lunch, helping me get stuff ready before they arrive. I stupidly turned down my mum’s offer of help.’

  ‘What’s on the menu?’ he prevaricated, a teasing light in his eye.

  ‘Roast beef and Yorkshire, with all the trimmings.’

  He gave a low whistle. ‘You’re on. As long as everything’s fine with Gran by then.’

  ‘Great. Shall we say about eleven? I’ll text you my address.’

  He watched as she made her way up the path to her car. He liked everything about her, he thought. From the way she walked – with her back straight and that easy confidence that seemed to reflect her personality, right down to the swishing chestnut-coloured ponytail and slim figure that would catch the eye of any man.

  ‘Harry?’

  Upstairs in his grandmother’s room, his expression softened as he took in the pale features. Despite her words to the contrary, he could see the fall had shaken her. She looked frail and ill sitting there propped up in her bed.

  ‘Anything I can get you?’

  ‘Yes, a bottle of pills and a decent glass of brandy, so I can finish off what God’s started.’

  ‘Gran–’

  ‘Don’t tell me not to talk like that. I’ve had enough; you know I have. And you know what I want to do about it. Time’s running out, boy – I need to know there’s a plan in place.’

  ‘Jesus, Gran, please don’t start this again. You know I can’t do it even if I wanted to. I’m a policeman.’

  Her face lost some of its belligerence as she smiled at him. ‘I know you are, love – but you’re also my grandson. I know you love me and I’m asking you to help me have a peaceful end when things get bad. I don’t want to die like your grandfather did. I’ll admit it to you and no one else, I’m terrified of that happening.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be like that. There are all sorts of things they can do to make sure it’s peaceful when the time comes.’

  ‘That’s what they said to John.’

  ‘And that was ten years ago. Things have come on enormously since then. I’ll contact the Macmillan team, get them to come over and talk to you.’

  ‘You can do what you like. But if you won’t help me, I’ll find a way of doing it myself so that I don’t need to rely on you.’

  Her voice was resolute and he felt useless. All these years of being a policeman, dealing with all sorts of complicated issues, and he didn’t know how to handle his own grandmother. And it didn’t make matters any easier that he completely got where she was coming from. He’d probably feel the same in her shoes: he wouldn’t want to suffer the lingering, painful death his grandfather had, that was for sure, and he wouldn’t hesitate to speed things up if he got the chance. But the fact remained that assisted suicide was still illegal – and he was meant to uphold the law, not bend it to suit his own requirements. If he got found out, it wouldn’t only mean the end of his career, it could see him put in prison for a good, long stretch. And he probably would be. He could see it now – they’d feel the need to make an example of him.

  He loved his grandmother more than anyone else, but was he really prepared to risk all that and throw his life down the pan?

  He shook his head. ‘I can’t listen, Gran.’

  ‘Please at least think about it?’

  As if he thought of anything else. He tried to sound convincing. ‘I don’t believe in euthanasia, you know that.’

  ‘But I do, and it’s my life. You’ve got to do this for me, Harry. There’s no one else I can ask.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Kirsty had a quick glance around before turning into her parents’ drive, but it was difficult to tell if anyone might be trailing her. After her confrontation with Bulldog she hadn’t felt like going home, so she’d gone back to the office and caught up on some paperwork. She’d also Googled Tim Burman, but hadn’t found out much about him, apart from the fact that he was an antiques dealer specialising in 19th-century furniture and paintings. She’d seen a picture of him, though, and was forced to admit he looked perfectly normal and, as Simon had said, not bad-looking.

  Now, hanging her jacket on the stand in the hall, she went in search of her mother in the lounge.

  ‘Oh Kirsty.’ Her mother jumped up agitatedly from her chair. ‘Thank God you’re back.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  Her mother shook
her head, tears forming in her eyes. ‘Robbie and I have had a huge row. He stormed out of here in such a temper. I’ve never seen him like that.’

  Oh, God … Was that because she’d put him in a bad mood?

  ‘Mum, calm down. I’m sure it can’t be that bad. Tell me what happened.’

  ‘He left work early because he’d told Lizzie he’d help with the kids tonight, but he dropped in on me first to check I was okay.’

  ‘And …?’

  ‘He hadn’t told me he was coming. I wasn’t expecting either of you that early. Dan was here…’

  ‘What!? Daniel Curtis?’

  Kirsty felt her own blood shoot straight to boiling point. Hadn’t her mother taken on-board anything she’d said?

  ‘For God’s sake, Mum. What was he doing here again?’

  ‘It’s been hard for me. Dan called to see how I was getting on, and I broke down on the phone. He was worried about me.’

  ‘He has no right to be worried about you, that’s our job. No wonder Rob was annoyed. Why didn’t you call one of us? We’d have come straight back.’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting anyone to come. He just turned up. It was kind of him.’

  ‘I warned you Robbie wouldn’t like it.’

  ‘I know you did. But he’s being unreasonable. I’ve known Dan most of my life – he’s an old friend.’

  ‘Who we all know would like to be more than friends!’

  Her mother tossed her head. ‘Maybe he would, I don’t know. But I’m not interested in that and never have been. If you think that’s why I let him come over…’

  She seemed to shrink inside herself, and immediately Kirsty felt remorse. She moved swiftly over to give her a hug.

  ‘I’m sorry, of course I don’t. … I just know what Rob’s like at the moment. It’s exhausting having to tread on eggshells around him the whole time and this’ll make him ten times worse.’

  ‘I know. I haven’t seen him in such a rage in a long time. I hope he doesn’t take it out on Lizzie.’

  ‘What makes you say that? Why would he do that?’

  Her mother shrugged. ‘I don’t mean in a physical way. I know he wouldn’t do that. He was just in such a strop.’

  ‘I’ll give it a while and then I’ll call them. He’ll calm down.’

  But when she made the call an hour later, Lizzie informed her that he was out.

  ‘He said he was going to the gym and then the flat to do some decorating. I’ve tried to call him a couple of times, but he’s not picking up.’

  ‘Was he alright?’ Kirsty asked. ‘Did he tell you what happened?’

  ‘No and yes,’ Lizzie replied. ‘No, he wasn’t alright, and yes, he did tell me. He saw red apparently, that Dan was sitting in Dom’s chair. I did try to point out that there are only two chairs in that room, so if he wasn’t going to sit on the settee, there probably wasn’t much choice. But he wasn’t having it.’

  ‘Can you ask him to call me when he gets back?’

  ‘I can try, but you don’t seem to be his favourite person either at the moment – though I wouldn’t take that too personally. He’s a nightmare these days, if you want the truth. I just mentioned tonight that the flat seems to be taking forever to be finished, and he exploded. Stormed out of here and told me he’d see me when he sees me.’ She sighed. ‘I guess it’ll all calm down. At least he managed to hide his mood from the kids while he was bathing them. We could just do with a bit of a break.’

  Kirsty hesitated, wondering whether now would be a good time to bring up the property deals that had been done in Lizzie’s name, but she couldn’t do it. At the end of the day, it was between Lizzie and Rob what they did, and she didn’t really want to get involved. But it was another thing she filed away for the future. If she did get involved in the business, things would have to change.

  ‘I said to Rob I’d babysit if you want some time together?’

  ‘Oh, Kirsty, that would be great. We’re fine, just tired with everything that’s going on. To be honest, I’m glad he’s out of my hair tonight. He’s not the only one who needs a bit of space.’

  After showering and going downstairs to fix a sandwich that she didn’t really want, Kirsty looked at the time. It was quarter to ten, and from the silence in the house she gathered her mother had already gone up to bed. Up on the landing, she hovered uncertainly outside her door. Part of her wanted to knock and see if she was okay – but she felt so low herself she knew she didn’t have the strength at the moment to give her mother the support she needed. She could hear quiet sobs coming from within, and felt the tears spring hotly to her own eyes as she continued on her way. She was crap. A crap daughter, a crap sister, a crap fiancée …

  Shutting the door to her own bedroom quietly behind her, she automatically went about the normal preparations for bed – getting undressed, putting her dirty clothes in the wash basket, brushing her teeth – but none of her anxieties would go away. Not her father’s death; the business inconsistencies that seemed to be unravelling at a rate of knots; her issues with Rob; her run-in with Bulldog. She desperately needed someone to talk to – and she knew there was only one person who’d fit the bill. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she grabbed her mobile before she could change her mind and texted Luke.

  ***

  He wasn’t someone who’d stand out in a crowd – he made sure of that. But when you got up close and personal, it was a different matter. He had a knack of charming the most truculent of characters with his blond, floppy hair and unusually dark brown eyes that twinkled engagingly as he turned on the charm. Amazing what a decent disguise could do. His clothes were casual – the usual jeans and T-shirt – but chosen with care so that they showed off his muscular physique without making it look too obvious.

  He’d been eyeing up the girl in the red dress for over an hour, bracing himself to make the move as she twisted and gyrated on the dance floor with her friends. They were having a good time but now, as the evening wore on, other watchers were moving in and already a couple of her friends had paired off. He’d miss the boat if he didn’t act soon.

  He manoeuvred himself closer to the group, dancing slightly to her left, his eye catching hers then sliding away a few times, until he realised she’d taken the bait and was now dancing so that she was facing him. Result.

  He flashed her a grin and narrowed the gap between them. He was a good dancer and so was she. It added an extra level of appreciation for them both as they moved in harmony to the music, and when, ten minutes later, the tempo changed, slowing down, she made no objection when he drifted in, closing the gap to take her in his arms.

  He felt the tingle in his groin straight away. It was certainly good stuff, that GHB, and he’d taken just enough to heighten his sexual appetite without overdoing it. You had to be very careful about that, because too much …

  ‘How about a drink?’ the girl murmured in his ear. ‘My name’s Patsy, by the way.’

  ‘Sure thing. Unusual name – what’s it short for?’

  The girl laughed and pulled back to look at him. ‘Patricia – dreadful, isn’t it? Don’t know what my parents were thinking. What’s yours?’

  ‘Ben,’ he lied easily.

  He guided her over to one of the small tables against the wall, which were filling up fast. ‘If you don’t mind saving this for us, I’ll get the drinks. What’s yours?’

  ‘Screwdriver, please.’

  It felt like a bit of an omen really.

  Up at the bar he ordered the drinks, and made sure no one was watching before deftly slipping a small amount of the liquid he was carrying in his pocket, into her drink. He gave a little smile. With any luck it would pep her up enough to give them both a good time tonight. And boy, did he need to do something to get his mind off everything.

  An hour later on the dance floor, it seemed to be working. His tongue was down her throat and she was kissing him back as if her little life depended on it.

  ‘Hey, steady,’ she protested, her hand pus
hing his away from where it had strayed between her legs.

  ‘Sorry,’ he muttered.

  ‘You’re moving too quickly,’ she said in an aggressively inebriated voice. ‘I think we should finish our drinks and go.’ She shrugged. ‘But I’ll give you my number if you want and you can call me?’

  Stupid cow. Did she really think he was interested in dating her?

  ‘Okay, sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself, I know. Had a bit too much to drink, I think. Anyone told you you’re gorgeous?’

  She grinned at him coyly, her manner relaxing again. ‘I just need to pop to the Ladies. I’ll be back in a minute.’

  He watched her trip unsteadily on her high heels across the dance floor, stopping to chat to a couple of girl friends on her way.

  He had a few minutes, he reckoned, until she got back. He leant back in his chair and looked around him. It amused him to see one of his mates on the dance floor who didn’t give him a second glance with his expensive wig on. It was surprising what a sense of liberty and power that gave him. Looking like a completely different person made him feel like one, too. He’d felt enormously stressed all day, feeling that his life was spiralling out of control, but look at him now – he felt completely back in charge again with his disguise in place. And it enabled him to do things he’d never be able to get away with in his normal life. It was a release for him and everyone needed a release, didn’t they?

  Sometimes he worried that maybe his pastime was becoming too much of a need for him, but he was still in control, wasn’t he? He could get up and walk out of this sweatbox if he chose to without a backward glance – but the truth of the matter was, he didn’t want to. He needed an outlet for the anger and frustration that had been building up, to stop it from festering and spilling over into his normal life – and he knew from past experience that this was the best way of dealing with that … even if it was only a temporary relief.

  He took advantage of Patsy’s absence to slip a bit more liquid into her drink. That should do it.