Lost - Michael Robotham [112]
“What did Aleksei do when you left him?”
“First he begged me to come back. Then he tried to bribe me with grand gestures. Finally he tried to bully me.”
“You didn’t go back to your family.”
Pushing hair behind her ears with both hands, she shakes her head. “I’ve been running away from them my whole life.”
We sit in silence. The warm air rising from the stove lifts loose strands of her hair, suspending them in midair.
“When did you last see Kirsten Fitzroy?”
“About two months ago; she said she was going abroad.”
“Did she say where?”
“America or South America; she had some brochures. It might have been Argentina. She was going to send me postcards but I didn’t receive a thing. What’s happened? Is she in trouble?”
“You met at Dolphin Mansions.”
“Yes.”
“Did Kirsten ever meet your father?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure?”
“Please tell me what she’s supposed to have done.”
“Your father paid her rent at Dolphin Mansions. Later he helped her buy her flat in Notting Hill.”
Rachel doesn’t react. I can’t tell if she’s shocked or if she suspected it all along.
“She was keeping watch on you. Sir Douglas wanted custody of Mickey. He had his lawyers preparing an application. They were going to argue you were unfit to care for a child because of your drinking. The application was withdrawn after you joined AA.”
“I can’t believe any of this,” she whispers.
There’s more. I don’t know how much to tell her.
“On the night of the ransom drop, I followed the diamonds through the sewers. I washed up in the Thames. Kirsten saved my life.”
“What was she doing there?”
“She and Ray Murphy were waiting for the diamonds. They organized the whole thing—the ransom demand, the locks of hair, the bikini. Kirsten knew everything about you and Mickey. She counted the money in Mickey’s money box. She knew exactly what buttons to press.”
Rachel shakes her head. “But the bikini … it belonged to Mickey.”
“And they took it from her.”
Suddenly, she realizes what I’m saying. The sense of alarm spreads through her before the instant of comprehension.
At that moment a door swings open somewhere in the house and the air pressure changes. Sir Douglas comes storming through the main hall, yelling at Thomas to call the police. The butler must have phoned him the moment I arrived.
I lose sight of him for a few seconds and then he appears in the doorway of the kitchen carrying a shotgun. His face is like a warning light.
“You stay here! Don’t go anywhere. You’re under arrest.”
“Calm down.”
“You’re trespassing on my property.”
“Put the gun down, Daddy.”
He waves the gun at me. “Stay away from him.”
“Please put that down.”
Rachel is watching him with a you-must-be-crazy look. She takes a step toward him, distracting him for a moment. He doesn’t see me close the final two paces. I seize the gun, twisting it out of his hands and drop him with a punch just below his ribs. I look at Rachel apologetically. I didn’t want to hit him.
Sir Douglas takes a long staggering breath. He tries to talk, telling me to get out. I’m already leaving after emptying the cartridges and tossing the gun toward Thomas. Rachel follows, pleading with me to explain. “Why would they do that? Why would they take Mickey?”
Turning back, I blink at her sadly. “I don’t know. Ask your father.”
I don’t want to give her false hopes. I’m not even sure if I’m talking sense. I’ve been wrong so often lately.
Out of the front door and down the steps, I crunch along the gravel drive. Rachel watches from the steps.
“What about Mickey?” she yells.
“I don’t think Howard killed her.”
At first she doesn’t react. Maybe she’s given up hope or she’s shackled to the past. This is only for a moment and then she’s running toward me. I have given her a choice between hating, forgiving and believing. She wants to believe.
30
“Where are we going?” asks Rachel.
“You’ll see. It’s right up here.”
We pull up outside a cottage in Hampstead; there is an arbor over the front gate and neatly pruned rosebushes along the