Authors: Jill Paterson
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #International Mystery & Crime, #Police Procedurals
‘Physically, yes, but I would think that the sheer trauma of this experience will be most debilitating and difficult to overcome, don’t you?’ James did not reply. Susan Evans glared at him. ‘I think under the circumstances, Dr Wearing, it would be appropriate for you to leave Ashley’s welfare to me now.’
With that, she looked around. ‘Where's that stupid nurse?’ James watched as Susan Evans continued along the corridor.
During the days that followed, James found himself once again in Fitzjohn’s office.
‘How’s Ms Manning, James?’
‘Much improved. In fact, she left for Adelaide yesterday. Her mother thought it best she convalesce there.’
‘Well, I can see the sense in it, I suppose. Someone to watch over her, so to speak.’ Fitzjohn paused. ‘She’ll be back, of course.’
Anxious to mask his misgivings, James hesitated. ‘As far as I know, yes, although I’m not sure when.’
‘Well, when you do speak to her, give her my regards, won’t you?’
‘Yes, I will.’ James ran his hand through his hair.
‘The past few weeks have been difficult, I know, and Catherine Wearing’s attack on Ms Manning is particularly upsetting,' said Fitzjohn. 'A positive side to all this, of course, is that Rhodes will be behind bars for a long time.’
‘I certainly hope so,’ said James sitting down.
‘Blackmail alone would ensure it, but there’s also his involvement in your wife’s death, not to mention his dealings in stolen art.’
For a moment, James did not speak. He realised for the first time that since his return from Melbourne, neither Alex nor Louise had dominated his thoughts. They had been taken up with Ashley and whether she would survive. He watched Fitzjohn place his pen down on the desk and sit back in his chair.
‘Well, I think Simon’s blackmail of Alex goes a long way in explaining his behaviour all these years,' James said thoughtfully. 'He was so difficult to get on with.’
'That sort of pressure is bound to have an effect in one way or another,' said Fitzjohn. 'I do agree with Patrick Spender, though. I don't believe your brother would have paid the money to Rhodes, much less sell the artefacts to raise more cash. I think he would have eventually contacted the police and made a clean breast of everything.'
'What makes you think that?'
'Two reasons. Firstly, why else would he have left the money with Patrick Spender and, secondly, why would he tell Rhodes he was having trouble raising the money?'
'Is that what Simon told you?'
'Yes. He said the day before your brother died, he'd gone to see Alex at his home. Alex showed him into his study, where he brought out the three artefacts - the dagger, the torque and the ring - and told Rhodes he would arrange for their sale if Rhodes would give him more time.'
'So, Alex did take the artefacts.'
'Yes, although I have an idea he didn't see himself as stealing them so much as borrowing them to bluff Rhodes.'
'Of course, Catherine Wearing became Simon Rhodes's victim too. Not only did he tell her about her husband's affair with Ashley Manning, he also told her of Alex's involvement in her sister's death. The latter, I believe, is what sent her over the edge.
'But why did she try to implicate Tristan and me?'
'Perhaps she believed you knew what happened on the night her sister died. We'll never really know.' James frowned. 'And as far as Dr Harrow is concerned, he thinks it was because of their affair.'
A look of surprise came across James's face.
'By the look on your face, I gather you weren't aware of this,' said Fitzjohn.
'No.'
'Well, apparently she and Dr Harrow had an affair, but it ended when he discarded her for another woman.'
'That sounds like Tristan,' said James.
'Well, I think he chose the wrong person when he did it to Catherine Wearing.'
The two men sat for a moment in silence before Fitzjohn said, 'I'm sorry about what happened to Ms Manning, James. It's unfortunate. Most unfortunate.' Fitzjohn shook his head. 'Thankfully, however, it's brought an end to it all.'
'It has.'
James rose from his chair. 'Thanks for everything, Chief Inspector.'
'Alistair.'
James smiled as he shook Fitzjohn's outstretched hand.
Few attended Catherine's funeral. Only Eve Lawrence, Vera Trenbath, Fitzjohn and James stood at the graveside and listened to the minister as he spoke on that sunless day, the sound of the wind through the trees emphasising a dismal atmosphere.
After the minister completed his words, James took Eve Lawrence's arm and they moved away from the graveside. Fitzjohn and Vera Trenbath followed. They stopped when they reached the road and James turned to them. 'Thank you for coming.' Fitzjohn put his hand on James's shoulder. Vera smiled. James looked down at Eve. She appeared frail as though aged by the last few weeks. 'Will you be staying in Sydney tonight, Eve?'
'No, Dr Wearing. My sister's expecting me. I told her I'd catch the afternoon train back.'
'Very well. Then let me take you to lunch before I see you to the station.' James turned to Fitzjohn and Vera. 'Would you both care to join us?'
'Thanks, James, but duty calls. Sergeant Betts is waiting for me.' Fitzjohn gestured to a car parked along the roadway. He turned to Vera and smiled. 'And I've also offered to drive Dr Trenbath back to the university.' He turned to Eve Lawrence. 'Goodbye, Mrs Lawrence. Have a safe journey.'
'Thank you, Chief Inspector.'
After seeing Eve onto her train, James made his way to the museum to see Edward Sommersby. He found him strolling along the balcony in the Bird Gallery.
'James, I didn't expect to see you today.'
'I wanted to drop by since congratulations are in order.'
'News travels fast.'
'It does when you've been made Director of Smithsonian's National Museum of Natural History. It's wonderful news, Ed. I'm happy for you.' He shook Edward's hand.
'Thanks. I have to admit, I am pleased.' Edward smiled. 'I'll miss it here though. It's been a good five years except for...' Edward glanced at the spot where Ashley had fallen. 'In the light of day, it's hard to believe what happened here.'
'It'll be a long time before I'm able to put it out of my mind,' said James. They stood in silence for a moment reliving the horror of that night before making their way out of the Gallery.
'What do you plan to do now that Ashley's not coming back to Sydney?' asked Edward. 'Will you move to Adelaide?' James stopped in his tracks. 'James? I'm sorry. I thought you would know. Ashley rang me last night to tender her resignation.' James did not reply. 'I thought you two... You didn't tell her how you feel about her did you?' said Edward. 'I don't believe it. That gorgeous creature and you let her slip away. You're mad.'
They continued on down the stairs in silence.
'Did Ashley say what she planned on doing?' asked James at last.
'All she said was she planned to sit on some steps in the sun.' Edward shrugged.
James's thoughts traversed the last few months and Ashley’s resilience to all that had happened to her. There had been little time for laughter, in fact none. Except...for the day he called on her not long after their return from Cragleigh. He smiled as he remembered her infectious laughter at the suggestion Tristan stay with him on his release from hospital. The light hearted moment he should have told her how he felt but let the opportunity slip by. The spell broken, Ashley had looked away and picked up a magazine. James’s brow furrowed as the cover of the magazine came to mind. What was it she had said? ‘On dull, rainy days, I imagine myself sitting on those steps in the sun.’
'James, what is it?'
'It's The Spanish Steps.'
Fitzjohn gathered up the remaining papers on his desk and put them into his briefcase. As he did so, the door opened and Betts appeared.
'Ah, Betts, I was hoping to see you before I go on leave. I want to thank you for all your help over the past weeks. It hasn't been an easy investigation, I know, but we've managed to finalise everything to our satisfaction - not to mention that of Chief Superintendant Fellowes.
Betts smiled. 'Thank you, sir, and having Simon Rhodes behind bars for the foreseeable future is a bonus.'
'It is, and to a large extent, we have Julian Gould to thank for that. If he hadn't come forward when he did, Rhodes's involvement in Louise Wearing's death might never have been uncovered.'
Fitzjohn closed his briefcase and looked around his office. 'Well, I think that's everything. I'll be off.'
'Have a good break, sir.'
'Mmm. That remains to be seen. My sister tells me she's organised some sort of sightseeing tour along the River Murray.'
Fitzjohn frowned and went to pick up his briefcase, but as he did so, the door opened and a constable appeared. 'Pardon the interruption, sir, but Superintendent Grieg would like to see you. He says it's a matter of urgency.'
'Oh?' A slight smile came to Fitzjohn's face. 'Tell him I'll be right there, Constable.'
James left for Rome late that afternoon and arrived early the next morning, making his way through the glut of travellers in the Fiumicino Airport to the train station. He emerged from the congested metro system at Spagna, and walked the short distance to his hotel.
After checking in, he left again and made his way to a nearby cafe where he ordered coffee and watched the piazza come to life around him. It was then that he started to question his impulsiveness in coming to Rome on a whim. His misgivings continued, as the flower vendors, jewellery dealers, and tourists, all appeared to transform the atmosphere into one of buzzing activity. Carried along by the stir, James left the cafe and strolled across the Piazza di Spagna to the fountain at the base of the Spanish Steps, the sound of its cascading water easing his doubt. He looked up at the steps rising before him and replayed Ashley’s words again in his mind. 'On dull, rainy days, I imagine myself sitting on those steps in the sun.' James started climbing upwards, picking his way between the people already seated, and sat down amongst them.
The morning passed by and those around him came and went, but James remained, unwilling to let go of the idea that Ashley would appear. But as the afternoon shadows lengthened and the crowds in the piazza dwindled, he questioned again his foolhardiness. Getting to his feet, he took one last sweeping glance across the piazza, and began descending the steps, but as he did so, his heart quickened. A tall, elegant figure, her dark brown shoulder-length hair flying back from her face in the soft warm breeze, started to climb the Spanish Steps toward him. She stopped a few feet away, took her sunglasses off and smiled.
‘James.’
Jill Paterson was born in Yorkshire, UK, and grew up in Adelaide, South Australia before spending 11 years in Ontario, Canada. On returning to Australia, she settled in Canberra. After doing an arts degree at the Australian National University, she worked at the Australian National University's School of Law before spending the next 10 years with the Business Council of Australia and the University of NSW, ADFA Campus, in the School of Electrical Engineering.
Jill is the author of three published novels, The Celtic Dagger, Murder At The Rocks, and Once Upon A Lie which are all part of the Fitzjohn Mystery Series. She has also authored two non-fiction books entitled Self Publishing-Pocket Guide and Writing-Painting A Picture With Words.
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