In Denial (34 page)

*  *  *

Adam could hear the shower running.

If he’d had the courage to say no, he would not be faced with the need to explain. Did he have to explain? She was still a stranger. They may have shared a meal, they may have gone through the preliminaries, the foreplay, the discoveries, but when the moment arrived for him to break out of the hold Lucinda still had over him, he could not. That was unfair; she did not have a hold over him. He did not want to let go. He had no idea whether it was psychological or simply an inability. Regardless, he had not been able to complete what they both set out to do. To some extent there was an inward satisfaction. He had tried to tell himself he was not ready but he had still gone ahead with it, but his body - his mind? - whatever it had been had not agreed with him.

But now he felt the need to explain.

She was a stranger, but she deserved an explanation.

He would try, that was the least he could do for her.

Leila was bemused.

She’d had it happen before but not with somebody as young as her current target. As she let the jets of hot water massage her body, she smiled. She tipped her head back, her long hair acting as a conduit for the water to run down her back. If it did not happen then it would make what she had to do more difficult, but she would still get the information she needed. She would try again because men were at their most vulnerable afterwards, but if it was not going to happen then so be it. It was a pity because she had rather liked what she had seen so far.

Turning off the shower, she dried herself on the fluffy white bath towel. She particularly liked the towels in The Peninsula. She went over to the door but couldn’t hear anything. She smiled again. He would not be devastated by what had happened - or in this case had not happened - but he’d be feeling embarrassed. It was obvious from the way he spoke about his wife, albeit only a few words, that he still loved her. If they had just separated then he would feel one form of guilt, but as she had died he would be feeling another.

She combed her wet hair, checked herself in the long mirror and liked what she saw, although she always thought her breasts were too small. She opened the bathroom door and moved into the room. She loved the sensual feel of the deep pile carpet against her toes.

‘
Refreshed and reinvigorated,’ she said looking down at Adam. He was still on the bed, which was a good sign, the sheet strategically draped across his flat stomach. She liked that; most of the men she’d had to seduce had beer bellies. He was muscular but not overly so, and the dark hair on his upper chest and stomach added to his perfection.

Only a few hours ago he had not known she existed and yet here she was, naked in his room and offering him anything he wanted to take. Her skin was almost flawless. There was a mole on the inside of her right thigh and a vertical two inch scar below and to the right of her navel; he guessed she’d had an appendectomy at some stage. The scar was pink against her light brown skin which was not as dark as Lucinda’s. Leila’s breasts were smaller, her waist narrower and her hips slimmer, but her long slim legs were similar.

Leila went round to the other side of the bed and knelt at Adam’s side. She picked up his hand and rested it in her lap.

‘
Do you want to tell me about her?’ she asked. What he’d been thinking was written all over his face. He’d been comparing her with his wife, half his mind telling him what a bloody fool he was not to take what she was offering, and the other half congratulating himself on having a conscience. Well, perhaps she had rushed things so maybe if she tried a different approach he would overcome his obvious anxiety. At least taking things slowly would make a pleasant change.

Adam looked up at her face, at the dark brown eyes, at her lips that were slightly parted, at the slenderness of her neck and shoulders. Her hair was brushed back from her face and hung down her back. She was absolutely gorgeous and amazingly she wanted him to talk about Lucinda.

Had he been that obvious? Would talking about Lucinda help?

The only other person who knew something about what was on his mind was Gabrielle Brooks, but even she only knew half the story, if that.

What should her tell Leila?

He had already decided she warranted some sort of explanation.

He could feel the warmth of her thighs against the back of his hand as she held his hands in hers. She was looking down at him, her nakedness and his breaking down all barriers. Nobody, not even Lucinda, had ever held him like that and asked him to talk.

‘
My wife was murdered …’ Adam said slowly.

‘
Miss, you must stay here,’ Lolita implored.

They were in the kitchen, sitting at the big farmhouse table. As with the rest of the house, Gabrielle was amazed to see how three cultures - Chinese, Sri Lankan and European - had been melded into one with such success. She wished she had got to know the Yongs under totally different circumstances, but now Adam’s father was dead and his mother critically ill. The police had sealed off the main bedroom where they were found, but there was unrestricted movement in the rest of the house. It appeared as though the police had made up their minds about what had happened.

She looked across the table at Lolita. She felt so sorry for her. Her life had been shattered; her security no longer existed. Gabrielle doubted whether she had many friends. The house was in the middle of nowhere and even if Lolita made use of her time off to go to London and seek out the Filipino community in the city, she doubted whether she would have been able to maintain any long-term relationships.

Lolita was a good-looking woman in her mid to late thirties. She was small-framed and in Gabrielle’s opinion could do with putting on a few pounds. She was wearing a floral blouse, a long black cotton skirt and open-toed sandals. Her hands, although small like the rest of her, looked strong and very used to hard work.

Gabrielle did not want to stay in the house; she would have preferred to go to Blandford or even down to Bournemouth and take pot luck in finding somewhere to stay for a few days. She had a lot of thinking to do and if she went ahead with what she believed was the right course of action then she had a lot of planning to do as well. She always carried her passport with her but she didn’t know whether she needed a visa to get into Hong Kong, and if she did how long it would take to get one. She seemed to remember Jeremy Jacobs saying something about being able to stay in Hong Kong for three months without a visa. She had more than enough ready money; her father saw to that. She had asked for him to stop her allowance but he ignored her pleas. This separate account had never been touched but now perhaps it would be necessary to use it.

Gabrielle had not changed since she’d returned from the hospital and she welcomed the thought of having a hot bath and throwing on her dressing gown. But her mind was going round and round. As well as thinking about what she should do next, she also felt some responsibility towards Lolita. If Christina Yong died with Adam out of the country who would take care of everything? The Yongs would have a solicitor but she was sure Lolita wouldn’t know what else needed to be done. Losing her employers had probably never crossed her mind. If Christina survived she would need Lolita more than ever. Gabrielle appreciated that regardless of the tragic circumstances, she was a casual visitor and therefore there should be no expectations from anybody. But she felt involved. Because Adam had been on her mind so much and to the point where it had made her act the way she had, she was part of it all.

She smiled sympathetically. ‘I’ll stay for a few days, Lolita. I’ll stay until we know whether Mrs Yong is going be all right.’

Lolita reached across the table and put her hand on Gabrielle’s. ‘Thank you, Miss. I so worried.’

‘
I know you are but we will pray that Mrs Yong gets better.’

‘
I am Catholic, Miss,’ Lolita said almost apologetically.

‘
Good,’ said Gabrielle, ‘that makes us both Christians so praying will be a lot easier.’

Gabrielle had not felt out of her depth when she counselled Adam in Loch Lomond but now she felt she was being drawn deeper and deeper into a maelstrom of intrigue, deceit and above all, murder.

*  *  *

Leila stared at Adam for a very long time.

She could control her emotions. She had to. If she needed to cry for effect she could and there were many times when tears had the desired consequence. But now, for the first time in years, she felt her eyes watering involuntarily.

Leila knew all about death.

Life had become very cheap for her. She had killed, hadn’t she? She never gave any thought to her victims’ families and friends. She never gave any thought to those who would grieve for their loss - the parents, the wives, the children and friends, most of whom would have no idea that the person they mourned was involved with drugs, prostitution, money-laundering and blackmail, or any other criminal activity. Those that grieved invariably lived off the proceeds of crime in total ignorance, believing their husband or wife, father or mother, son or daughter, was simply successful in whatever they did for a living.

But this man lying in front of her, his hands still in hers, was different.

He was not a criminal, as she was.

He had suffered.

His only fault was that he was still suffering.

He had lost his very soul and there was no explanation as to why it had happened. He had wanted to explain, he had wanted to tell her and now she understood. Nobody had ever done that to her before. She was used to taking orders. She was used to doing exactly what she was told to do, reporting back on the detail she had unearthed and walking away knowing what she reported would be the basis of whether somebody lived or died, and she never wanted to know which it was.

Until now.

There was nothing she had heard that went even part way to explaining why this man had become her next target, maybe her next victim. He was a man who had lost his family, a man who had come back to Hong Kong to find something though he knew not what that something was. He did not know whether he wanted to relive his past or try to bury it. And he did not know whether he had a future.

Why was the Master interested in such a man? Was there something unconnected with what he’d told her that was of interest to the Master? There must be. Why else would she be with this man?

His eyes were closed, his breathing steady.

Leila slipped beneath the sheet and lay next to him. She put her head on his shoulder, her arm across his chest and held him tight. She felt his arms envelope her as he buried his head against her and cried.

No man she had ever met had cried in front of her.

This man was different in so many ways.

Why?

*  *  *

The moonlight was skittering between the branches of the tree outside her window, casting shimmering shapes onto the wall at the bottom of the bed. Gabrielle lay on her back watching the dancing images in front of her. The sheets were crisp and cool, the bed probably the most comfortable she had ever experienced. There was no noise to disturb her other than the odd hoot of an owl or screech of a vixen, but she could not sleep.

Her alarm clock told her it was nearly midnight and she’d been trying to get to sleep for almost an hour.

Earlier the two women prepared a simple meal but in silence, each lost in her own thoughts. Lolita did not want Gabrielle’s help but reluctantly agreed when Gabrielle insisted. They took cold meats and salad from the fridge and Lolita boiled a few new potatoes.

As they began to eat Gabrielle felt she had to break the silence. She had caught Lolita giving her furtive glances and the doleful eyes told Gabrielle she desperately needed answers, but they were certain to be answers she could not provide.

‘
I can only guess how you must feel, Lolita, but as I said we must pray that Mrs Yong will pull through.’

‘
Yes, Miss, I know. I pray.’ Lolita picked up a potato on the end of her fork and took a bite. ‘This morning all was normal. Mr Yong have his normal breakfast in the dining room and Mrs Yong, I take her breakfast to her room. It all so normal. Mrs Yong come down from her room at ten and say she going into garden. Mr Yong he go to his study. It still all so normal. Then after lunch, I in kitchen and I hear a loud crack, then another very quickly.’ Lolita paused, her eyes full of tears. ‘I rush upstairs and scream for Mr Yong but then I find him and Mrs Yong in main bedroom. It awful. Mr Yong over by the window and his head, oh Miss, his head all blood and …’ Lolita lowered her head and her whole body heaved.

Gabrielle stood up and went round to the other side of the table. She put her arm round Lolita’s shoulders. ‘It must have been awful.’

‘
It … it … terrible, Miss.’

After waiting a few seconds Gabrielle asked, ‘Have you any idea why all this happened?’