Blue Steal Page 13

  Which in a strictly genetic DNA sequence way, she supposed, was true.

  ‘This is going to be wonderful,’ he went on, seemingly recovered from his episode of a moment ago. ‘I have such plans.’

  Selina looked at him, caught in indecision. She couldn’t deny she was concerned about what had just happened. It seemed inadequate to ignore it and move on, but what could she say? They were still in the very embryonic stages of getting to know each other, she couldn’t suggest psychiatric treatment at this stage. At the same time, Lewis was her family, and she felt some degree of responsibility towards him. He clearly needed help of some kind. Did he have anyone in his life who looked out for him? Not just staff, but someone who really cared? She doubted it.

  She looked down at the folder in front of her, still caught.

  ‘You are … You mean everything to me.’

  Her head jerked upwards.

  Lewis seemed to realise how intense his words were. He looked away. ‘Forgive me. I never had Andrew’s easy social graces,’ he said. ‘What I mean to say is, I am so glad to have found you, Selina.’

  She met his eyes, so earnest and, thankfully, lucid. ‘I’m glad too,’ she replied, almost sure she meant it.

  ‘I have spent my years building an empire, but lately I have come to realise that I have no one to pass it to. And now, here you are. Returned.’

  ‘Lewis …’ she started. He was family, it was true, but it was time to put a stop to all this belonging and returning nonsense.

  ‘I would like you to join me,’ he cut in. ‘As my second-in-command. 2IC, as they say. The position comes with a generous salary. You would work closely with me, learning everything you need to know about running the company. That is to say, I have in mind that one day in the not so distant future, Holloway Enterprises will be yours.’

  Her breath caught in her throat. Hers? Holloway Enterprises?

  She let it out in a forceful gush. Dio Mio. She’d hoped their shared blood would mean Lewis felt compelled to help with the cost of Anna’s surgery. She hadn’t expected to find herself next in line to the throne.

  ‘What do you say, Selina? Will you join me?’

  Wasn’t this what she’d been waiting for half her life? Nonna had always told her she was the Holloway heir. For many years, somewhere between old enough to understand what it meant but young enough to still believe dreams came true, she’d fantasised about this exact scenario playing out. A Holloway relation swooping down and claiming them, welcoming them into the family bosom, her shitty poverty-stricken life behind her forever.

  And right now, the fantasy was coming true.

  Lewis was waiting for her to say something. Anticipating that she would say yes, no doubt. That she would be full of excitement and gratitude. And she should be, but she wasn’t quite there yet. She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t often taken by surprise, but right from the moment she’d entered this room, she’d been struggling to keep up.

  ‘It’s such a generous offer …’ she began hesitantly.

  Was she crazy? What was there to think about? This changed everything. If his offer was genuine … If she and Anna were to inherit the Holloway fortune … God, it solved all their problems. The necklace, that bloody necklace, was totally irrelevant.

  ‘I would be honoured,’ she got out. She would be a fool to say anything else.

  A frozen moment, and then Lewis smiled, lips stretched tight. An awkward, lonely old man, despite all his money. And he’d been alone for a long time. Losing his twin, his only sibling, at such a young age, and his parents not long after … No wife or children. Maybe he’d dreamed of her, like she had of him.

  ‘But I need to know what happened to Andrew.’ The words slipped out of her mouth before she knew she’d been going to say them. It was true though, and it wasn’t for Jack. She needed to know for herself. ‘What happened, Lewis? That night?’

  Lewis’s face froze. His eyes turned to glaciers.

  Chills swept over her. She’d said the wrong thing, gone too far. It was too much, too soon.

  She was about to retract, to apologise, when he softened. ‘You are curious. Of course, you are curious,’ he said slowly and quietly, more to himself than to her. ‘It is logical that you would be. You must want to know.’

  He took a sip of tea slowly, savoured it meditatively, thinking.

  Did he trust her? Lewis had to know that she already knew Andrew was the one who’d stolen the jewellery. He had to know she wouldn’t go to the police, even if Lewis had been involved in the theft. After all, she was here for the necklace herself. ‘I just need to know what happened that night,’ she went on. ‘Nonna loved him, and I … He was my grandfather. You’re the only one who can tell me.’

  Lewis looked at her sharply, then nodded. ‘Of course. Yes,’ he murmured. ‘I forget, sometimes, I am not the only one who loved him.’

  He returned the cup to the saucer with resolve and faced her. ‘Andrew’s death was an accident. No,’ he contradicted immediately, shaking his head. ‘Not an accident—a tragedy.’

  For someone who at first impression was shy and stiff, he really did have a flair for the dramatic.

  Lewis dropped his gaze to the cup in front of him, shoulders slumped, and he seemed smaller, older. ‘I wasn’t aware of his intentions until that night. I wish he had confided in me. I would have advised him against it. I would have helped him to find another way.’ He sighed, shook himself, and straightened a little. ‘I woke when he crept out of our room in the early hours of the morning. Realising something was amiss, I followed him down. When I realised what he planned to do, I tried to talk him out of it. I entreated him to return the jewellery before anyone noticed it was missing. He didn’t listen. He said he had no choice but to leave.’

  Because nonna was pregnant. That’s why Andrew had felt he had no choice. His parents hadn’t wanted to know about it when Andrew was dead, Andrew must have thought they would have felt the same way if he had lived.

  ‘Our discussion must have got a little heated. Old Jo the security guard heard us. Jo … had not been himself. He was going blind, and with the benefit of hindsight, I believe he was succumbing to dementia. When he came upon us, he seemed not to recognise who we were. We told him it was just Sandy and Lew, but he didn’t hear or didn’t understand. He was confused, he thought we were a threat to the hotel he loved so dearly. He had his gun drawn. I tried to disarm him, but it was too late. He shot Andrew, turned on me, and I … protected myself. It all happened so quickly. In mere seconds, they were both dead.’

  Selina felt like she was there, standing over two bodies, reeling from the impact of sudden senseless tragedy. It was a tragedy. Not only for her young grandfather and the poor, old batty security guard, but for her nonna and, if she were any judge, for the man sitting in front of her too.

  But she still had questions. ‘That whole story … the robbers and everything …’ she started hesitantly. ‘Why did you make that all up? You weren’t the one stealing the jewellery and you didn’t intend to kill the guard. It was self-defence.’

  ‘You are right. I had no reason to concoct that story. Not for my own sake.’ He steeped his fingers, looked at her intently, earnestness reaching out to her. ‘But I didn’t lie to protect myself. I did it to protect Andrew.’ He dropped his arms, folded them. ‘I couldn’t bear to have him remembered as a common criminal. My parents already had to face his death, I couldn’t let them believe he was about to steal from the hotel that was our lives, that he was planning on running away. They were devastated, but that would have broken them. Jo didn’t have any family, no wife or children to consider.’ He shrugged. ‘It was not difficult to invent an alternate reality and have Andrew die a hero. I couldn’t allow his memory to be tarnished.’

  She turned Lewis’s words over in her mind. Inventing such a radical story, lying to the police in such serious circumstances seemed extreme, but the way he’d put it, she could understand. He’d been protecting his brother.
He’d been incredibly young and just witnessed his brother shot down in front of him. With little time to decide, he’d made the best decision he could. Sometimes circumstances forced you to make choices you wouldn’t otherwise make. Sometimes you had no choice. She knew that—there’d been many things in her life she’d had no choice about.

  ‘It’s a sad story,’ she said eventually.

  ‘Yes, it is. But one with a happy ending.’ He reached across the table, as if to touch her hand, but at the last minute retracted it. Reaching into his shirt pocket instead, he drew out a key and extended his palm towards her. ‘For you.’

  Selina took it and looked at Lewis for further explanation.

  ‘The master to the Empire. As befits a member of the Holloway family.’

  Not only an inheritance, but a master key.

  Looking down at the smallish silver key in her hand, heavy with age, she couldn’t help the wry half-smile curving her lips up, though of course, Lewis wouldn’t understand why she found it so funny.

  After the lengths she’d gone to get into the linen room, to now be presented with the key …

  Jack would appreciate the humour. If he didn’t already hate her.

  She held it in her palm, pressed it. Her status as a Holloway suddenly made tangible. ‘Lewis …’ she said, suddenly overcome with emotion. ‘Thank you.’

  Lewis looked down at his cup, sniffed happily. To hide a misting of his own eyes?

  ‘Before I go, some housekeeping …’ He signalled to one of the men at the bar who leapt off his stool and approached with a bag. Lewis took it and reached in, retrieving a phone. ‘For you,’ he said, as he handed it to her. ‘To ensure private communication between the two of us. My number is programmed in. Unfortunately, as a Holloway, security will become an issue. Some adjustments may be required.’

  Adjustments? What kind of adjustments? She felt a frown settling between her brows.

  ‘By next week, you will have your own suite at my main offices on Collins Street. Ready for whenever you are able to start. Sooner rather than later, I hope.’

  Of course. She had a new job now. She would have to give Mark two weeks’ notice.

  It hit her, like a tsunami crashing against a deserted tropical shore. Everything was different now. In less than half a week—in one morning!—her entire life had changed. It wasn’t a matter of adjustments, it was a complete shift in everything.

  ‘One other thing. You might consider, for security purposes, but also because … I feel some degree of responsibility for your current circumstances. I would like to provide you with a more salubrious abode. I have made vacant a family-sized apartment for your use in the building I live in. There are four bedrooms, and there is an excellent girls’ school within walking distance.’

  For Anna. He was thinking of Anna. And she knew the building he was talking about—it was extremely exclusive. And it was true, the house she, nonna and Anna lived in was appalling: a fifties weatherboard on its absolute last legs.

  But it was too much. She was overwhelmed. She couldn’t make these kinds of decisions on the spot. ‘I’ll have to talk to nonna and Anna.’

  ‘Naturally,’ Lewis demurred. ‘Whenever you are ready.’

  She didn’t know what else to say. She needed more time to get used to the way her life had changed.

  ‘I’ll leave you now,’ Lewis said, as if he sensed her thoughts. ‘I return to the Empire on Friday for another meeting with the architects. Will you be available to attend?’

  At this stage, she had no other plans. ‘I’ll be here.’

  ‘Excellent. If you have any need to contact me, please use our phones.’

  Lewis stood. She couldn’t help but note from the corner of her eye that the bodyguards, or whatever they were, had risen in perfect synchronicity.

  She stood as well, and then, as if unsure of how to conclude, Lewis said, ‘Goodbye Selina’, and walked straight past her.

  She thought back to how he’d almost touched her hand, then pulled back, as if he wasn’t sure he should. It didn’t feel right. This man was not only family, he’d just changed her life. In the space of ten minutes, he’d changed everything for her. She couldn’t hug him—Lewis wasn’t the hugging kind—but she couldn’t just let him leave without saying thank you.

  He was almost out of the room, security personnel falling into place beside him. She hustled after him. ‘Lewis!’

  He stopped at the doors, turned to face her, waiting.

  She would shake hands, she decided, as she reached him. It was a little formal, but better than nothing. She stuck out her hand, smiled at him. ‘Thank you.’

  She smiled even wider when, after a second’s hesitation, he took her hand in his.

  ***

  Ross King lived by himself in a Californian bungalow in the middle of the suburbia. Jack had already learnt, among many other King family related facts, that he and his now-deceased wife had bought the house just after the time of the theft at the Empire. Judging by the décor, not a thing had changed since.

  Ross was a short, slim and sprightly seventy-two. On the phone, he had seemed happy to discuss what had been one of his first cases—in fact, Jack had got the impression he had something of importance to say—but Jack was still waiting for anything relevant to emerge from this morning’s monologue. Anything relevant.

  Ross was on a mission. ‘And this is Madison at her first dance concert. Look at that, would you?’

  Jack looked. A chubby girl in purple sequins smiled back at him.

  Ross sighed. ‘I don’t understand why they make five year olds wear make-up. Do you understand why you’d want to put all that gunk on a face like that?’

  Jack agreed that he didn’t understand.

  Via an extensive collection of photo albums—Ross was yet to hit the digital age—Jack had met Ross’s wife, his three children and his seven grandchildren. Jack persevered in gently attempting to turn the conversation back to the case but Ross was just as determined to keep showing him those damn photos. Perhaps he had got it wrong, perhaps Ross had nothing to share with him. Apart from the annals of family history.

  He wasn’t usually one to rush things, but Jack was itching to get back to the Empire. He was feeling edgier by the second.

  ‘You have a beautiful family,’ he murmured for what felt like the thousandth time.

  Finally the final album was shut.

  ‘So, you were the first officer on the scene that night …’ Jack prompted.

  Ross hesitated. ‘I was still completing my probationary training.’

  So not quite an officer. An important distinction? ‘But you were the first one there.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I was,’ Ross agreed.

  ‘Could you give me your impressions? Things that didn’t make it into the police report perhaps? Any memories from that time?’

  ‘Oh, I remember that time, all right. Margaret and I weren’t married yet, but we had the wedding date set.’ He paused, leaned towards Jack in classic disclosure body language. ‘Nowadays, no one cares, but you didn’t talk about it back then.’

  Jack waited tensely, sure they were on the right path now.

  ‘Margaret was pregnant with Deborah. Deborah the zebra, we called her. Used to make her giggle when she was little. She hated it, as she got older. Teenagers!’ Ross smiled indulgently.

  Jack fought the urge to bang his head repeatedly against the wall next to him. This was going nowhere. He’d got his wires crossed somehow. It was time to cut his losses and refocus.

  He was half out of his seat on the sofa when Ross spoke again.

  ‘You have to understand. I was still on probation.’

  Probation, raised again. Jack sat back down.

  ‘The police force was it for me,’ Ross continued. ‘I didn’t have any other options, didn’t do too well at school, and with Margaret expecting … I needed to make the grade.’

  Jack waited. Patience was easy now.

  ‘It was my fault, you see. I
didn’t secure the scene properly. I was only a young fellow, not even twenty, and I walked into something I wasn’t expecting. I didn’t secure the scene properly, and I couldn’t say anything, because I was still on probation and Margaret was expecting.’ He looked at Jack as if for absolution. ‘I couldn’t prove anything anyway. So I decided not to say anything. For Margaret, you understand. And Deborah.’

  What didn’t you say, Ross?

  ‘Something wasn’t right,’ Jack prompted again, aiming to keep his voice neutral. He didn’t want the horse to bolt.

  ‘I could have sworn it was in his right hand.’

  A buzz built at the back of Jack’s skull, the kind that let him know how big this was going to be.

  ‘The security guard. The old guy. Joseph, I think his name was, though I can’t recall his surname anymore. Memory goes a bit, as you get older …’

  ‘Brown. Joseph Brown.’ Jack had read the name often enough in the past week.

  ‘Yes, that’s it. That’s it exactly!’ Ross exclaimed. ‘Joseph Brown.’

  ‘It was in his right hand?’ Jack prompted.

  ‘Yes. When I first got there, I was sure the gun was in his right hand. But I left the scene to call for back up. No mobile phones in those days. And when I came back … It was in his left hand.’

  ‘Joseph was left-dominant?’ Jack checked automatically, though he knew the answer.

  Ross nodded.

  Fuck.

  A wave shifted through him, sweeping all before it. This wasn’t just big—this changed everything. Jack dropped his head into his hands, churning through the implications. There was only one reason that weapon would have shifted hands, and it wasn’t that Joseph was one of the walking dead.

  He hadn’t fired the gun. Someone else had and planted it on Jo, then realised his mistake and changed the gun’s position when Ross left the room. Only one bullet, and the security guard hadn’t fired it. Only one person left standing.

  He had to get back to the hotel. Now.

  He wrapped things up with Ross then sped along the freeway leading back to the Empire, impending doom hanging black and heavy over him.