Читать книгу Fatal Flaw - Sandy Curtis - Страница 9

Mark was surprised to find he'd slept in. Everything in his life seemed to be changing, and he wasn't sure if he knew where he was headed.

His headache had eased, but the aftermath of the painkillers had left him slightly groggy. He padded to the bathroom, feet silent on the hallway carpet. Minutes later he stood under the shower, cool needles of water washing the heat from his body and the fog from his mind.

By the time he'd devoured fruit juice, pawpaw, bacon and eggs and toast and coffee, the depression that had engulfed him when he'd watched Julie walk away yesterday had lifted. The burning anger at his father's senseless death still simmered, but he knew that would stay with him a long time.

He took the piece of paper Julie had given him from the top pocket of his shirt and walked into his father's office. Pain shafted through him at the sight of the desk. Organised chaos, Gordon used to call it, and he could easily extract the document he needed from the paperwork strewn in apparent random order across the surface. Mark snatched up the cordless phone, walked into the living room, and dialled.

'City Morgue. You kill 'em, we chill 'em.'

Mark listened in surprise to the young voice, then heard Julie calling out in the background, 'Andy! Don't answer like that. You don't know who it might be.' A scuffle sounded, then the high-pitched laugh of a boy on the cusp of manhood, and finally Julie's breathless 'Hello?' came through the line.

'Sounds like you won the battle.' Mark couldn't keep the smile from his voice.

'Mark? I'm so sorry - Andy shouldn't have said that. How are you? And Claire?'

'Claire's okay. She's a strong person.' Mark paused, aware he was trying to convince himself. 'I thought we might get together today, if you're free, and catch up on old times like you suggested?'

'That'd be great. Could you come here? Andy has a few mates over and I can't leave them alone.'

'Just give me the address.' Mark strode back into the office, grabbed pen and paper and wrote swiftly. 'I'll see you soon.'

As he placed the phone in its charger, a sense of anticipation spread through him. For the first time in many months, he was actually looking forward to something.

'Who was that, Mum?' Andy Evans raised a quizzical eyebrow at Julie. With a jolt she recognised herself in the pale green eyes. It wasn't the physical resemblance of dark brown hair and a freckle-dusted nose, though that was remarkably strong, but the expression she read in those eyes. She, too, had been protective of her mother at the same age, anxious to shield her from the pain that life, in the shape of Ray Galloway, had inflicted on her.

'An old friend, Mark Talbert.' Julie tried to hide her eagerness as she bustled around the kitchen, putting dishes into the sink and wiping down benches. It was absurd to feel this way; Mark had never been anything but a friend, but his remark yesterday about needing her had sparked feelings she had long thought buried.

'Is that the guy in that picture with Mr and Mrs Talbert? The one in your album?' Andy's query carried more than just casual interest, and Julie knew that he had picked up on her tone.

'Yes. We grew up together. Our parents were friends.'

'So he knows Grandad?' A grin lit up Andy's face, and Julie felt her instinctive reaction. As much as she'd tried, she hadn't been able to curtail Andy's hero-worship of her father. She'd protested at the extravagant gifts Ray had lavished on her son, but with his usual blunt disregard for anyone's wishes but his own, Ray had ignored her.

'Yes,' she sighed, 'he knows Grandad. Now go and get changed. Your mates are already in the pool.' If the laughter and shouting was any indication, she thought, half the kids in the neighbourhood were there.

Andy galloped to his room, and Julie's heart lurched. It was such a contrast to her childhood. Ray's snapping bouts of temper had ensured she would never invite a school friend home on weekends. He was like a chameleon, suave and charming when it suited him, but verbally abusive if he perceived anyone going against him. Julie had watched the toll it had taken on her mother, and was grateful Andy had never seen that side of his grandfather. But she didn't like Andy's devotion to him either.

She was washing the dishes when Andy raced to the door, towel slung over his shoulder. 'Can we have muffins for morning tea?' he asked.

'Sure.'

'Great. Chocolate chip, if you can.' He paused, gave her a quick, assessing look. 'Thanks, Mum,' he said and disappeared.

The man to whom Yuusuf Haasan had entrusted the box he had purchased in Calcutta gazed across the dawn-shimmering ocean. No swell marred the flat surface; the only waves were those created by the yacht on which he travelled. His passage had been paid for, but if boarded by the authorities, he would assume the role of crew member, subservient to the supposedly wealthy owners who spent their days travelling the watery highways of the world. He smiled as he thought how close they were getting to his destination. He would not fail in his mission. He was well trained. And he was determined. Soon he would be able to prove himself.

A shadow passed over the boat. He looked up. An albatross, its great wingspan silhouetted by the glare of the sun, flew northward. The man aimed an imaginary gun at the bird, pulled the trigger, and laughed. Then he turned and went below deck to his cabin.

It wasn't his habit to stay overnight with Gaynor Farrell, but Ray Galloway had wanted to have an alibi for last night, just in case. He took many risks, but always covered himself if it were possible. He hurried down the stairs from Gaynor's apartment to the undercover car park. The business he had to discuss with Todd Langley, his security officer at GalCorp, wasn't something he wanted Gaynor to overhear.

The drive to his house was a short one. He'd set Gaynor up in the apartment when it became obvious that she was going to last a lot longer than his previous girlfriends, and convenience of access was important to him.

Todd was waiting for him as he drove up to his house. Although many years old, the house was a well-maintained example of white cement-rendered brick and arched, almost church-like, windows. Like a guardian of old, Todd stood in the front doorway, arms folded across his massive chest.

Within minutes both men were seated on the sweeping terrace at the rear of the house, looking out over the St Lucia stretch of the Brisbane River. The phss of escaping gas sounded as they pulled the tops off their stubbies of beer. A ferry hustled its way up-river, leaving a rippled trail on the mirror surface. The air was hot, dry, and hazy with the memory of many weeks without rain.

Ray was the first to end the silence. 'We don't have a choice. You'll have to break into Gordon's house.' He lit a cigar, and smiled at Todd's ill-concealed disgust. 'There must be a safe in his office where he's hidden it.'

'Okay,' Todd nodded, 'but I need a plan of the house. Any idea if there's a security system installed? Do they have a dog?'

'It's a while since I've been there, but I'll draw up what I can remember. I don't know about a dog, but be prepared just in case. Claire's moved out - she's living with her daughter for a while, but Mark's staying there at the moment.'

Todd stretched his powerful body in the cushioned patio chair. 'I haven't seen Mark since he was a kid. How old would he be now?'

'Must be about thirty-six. I think he's a few months older than Julie.' Ray swigged down the last of his beer. 'Be careful of him. I never was able to find out from Gordon exactly what he did in Canberra, but there's something about him …'

The laughter that rumbled in Todd's chest had a derisive tinge to it. 'As piss weak as his father, you mean?' he said, then sobered as he saw Ray's expression.

'No,' Ray's frown deepened. 'He was always a strange kid, but now… Now there's something dangerous about him.'

Further upstream, Mark drove across the Indooroopilly Bridge and headed towards Sherwood. Enormous old trees lined the streets close to his destination and dappled sunlight and shade on the windscreen. Julie's house was a low-set Queenslander, painted white and trimmed with green, set on a corner block and surrounded by a high wooden fence. As Mark walked up the three front steps onto the verandah he felt the coolness engulf him.

He reached for the large brass knocker on the front door, but before he could touch it, the door opened and Julie stood, smiling widely, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear. A simple gesture, but one that touched a chord; a memory of them in their early teens, lying on the grass and staring at the clouds. She'd pointed to an unusual formation, and before he'd turned to look, he'd caught a glimpse of her newly-formed breasts beneath her thin blouse. The jolt that had shot through him then had shocked him. But in the same self-controlled way that he'd lived most of his life, he'd decided that it was just one of the symptoms of puberty that he'd read about.

'Good timing,' Julie said as a bell rang further back in the house. 'Come in.'

He followed her down a tongue-and-groove-walled hallway to a spacious kitchen. Cream walls and cupboards were a pleasant contrast to the timber benchtops and polished timber floor. A wooden table dominated one end of the room.

'Take a seat.' Her voice was slightly muffled as she grabbed a mitt and bent down to open the oven door. The aroma of fresh cake wafted into the room and memories of his childhood after Claire had come into their lives hurtled back to Mark. He watched as Julie placed first one, then another muffin tray on racks on the bench.

'Coffee or tea?' she asked and took mugs from an overhead cupboard. She wasn't very tall, and reaching higher caused her tee-shirt to ride up, exposing creamy flesh that curved into well-fitting denim shorts. Desire shot through Mark, taking him by surprise, but his emotional reaction was even more startling. Julie had always been his friend, he'd always cared about her, but this surge of desire, coupled with an almost tangible tenderness, was new. Very new. He barely remembered that he was supposed to reply to her question.

'Coffee. No, make that tea, thanks.' Fresh cakes, a pot of steaming tea, his father and Claire and Susan chatting and laughing as he'd told them about his first few months in his chosen career. The memory of the warmth and love of family swept through him with an aching poignancy. So did the knowledge that because of his father's death his family would never be the same.

Julie's hand on his shoulder made him realise that he'd been staring at the mugs while his thoughts focused inwards. He felt the gentle squeeze of her fingers and the brush of her lips against his cheek.

'I've always been your friend, Mark,' she said softly, 'and I always will be. Anytime you want to talk, just let me know.'

The scent of her hair lingered as she moved away, and he had an almost overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around her and hold her until the pain inside him had eased. She was the only one who'd ever been able to read him. At the agency he'd once jokingly been called 'Inscrutable', not so much for his knowledge of Asian affairs but because he rarely exposed his feelings. When it became obvious that he saw no humour in the nickname it swiftly disappeared.

'Let's sit out on the back verandah.' Julie put four muffins on a plate and placed it with the tea things on a tray. Mark moved quickly to take the tray from her. They walked out onto a large covered deck overlooking an in-ground swimming pool where several young teenage boys were playing an erratic game of water polo. Mark placed the tray on the glass-topped table and he and Julie sank into the cushioned chairs.

'Nice pool,' Mark commented.

'Yeah.' Julie's reply had an uncharacteristic tinge of derision, and she looked at the landscaped pool surrounds of rocks and shrubs and ferns as though she'd like to demolish the lot. 'Another example of my father's benevolence.'

'Ray built the pool?'

Julie poured tea into the mugs. 'I came home from work one day and found a huge hole in the ground and men delivering pipes and reinforcing for the walls. I didn't know a thing about it. He'd even lodged plans with the council in my name.' She handed him a mug and the plate of muffins. 'Don't be fooled, Mark. He hasn't changed. He's still the same egotistical bastard he's always been. He didn't give us the pool out of the goodness of his heart. He's trying to buy my son.'

There was such bitterness in Julie's eyes that Mark replied, 'Tell me about it.'

'It's a long story.'

'I have all day.' He bit into a muffin and tasted liquid chocolate on his tongue. 'And all night if you keep feeding me muffins like this.' The words were hardly out of his mouth when he realised they sounded more flirtatious than friendly, but Julie smiled at him and sipped from her own mug.

'Like I told you yesterday, I thought I loved Luke when I married him, but looking back I think I loved the way he needed me. I'd spent so many years looking out for my mother I'd slipped into the role of nurturer. What I didn't know was that Luke was hopeless with money. I found that out when he left me.'

'Left you?' Mark's interest heightened. 'Claire said you'd split up.'

'Luke quite literally disappeared. He was a computer sales rep with a large territory and he'd be away from home for days at a time. The day he was due to come home I received a call from him saying he was sorry, but he couldn't cope any longer and he was leaving me. Andy was eight years old at the time. He adored Luke and it took a long time for him to come to terms with the whole mess.'

'What about you?'

'In a way I'd been expecting something, but certainly not that. I guess I fell to pieces for a while. Then I discovered he hadn't made any house payments for ages and the bank was threatening to repossess. Other bills were also overdue, including the car payment. He'd been lying to me for months. I've never been able to find out what he did with our money.'

'So what did you do?'

'I couldn't ask Mum and Derek for help, they'd just invested their savings in a business, and I certainly wasn't going to ask Dad. My part-time wages barely paid the overdue accounts - there was no way I could cover the house repayments. I tried desperately to get full-time work, but didn't have any luck. I'd just about reached rock bottom when my father called around. He was on one of his "magnanimous grandfather" visits. Andy wasn't here, I was feeling depressed and … it just all came out. I told him everything.'

'Did he offer to help you out?'

A plastic ball banged against the pool fence and Julie called to the boy chasing it not to run on the wet tiles. She picked up a muffin from the plate, took a bite and chewed well before replying. 'You know Dad and his bully-boy tactics. He told me that he would lend me the money to pay off the mortgage on condition that I came to work for him. I tried to get him to agree to lend me just enough money to get me out of my financial hole but he wouldn't be in it. He wanted to control my life.'

'So you agreed.'

'I had no choice. This was Andy's home. He'd already suffered enough heartache without having to move. And all his friends live here. Besides, renting was as expensive as making house payments, and I didn't have any money for a bond. So I signed the loan agreement and took the job. Then Ray told me that no-one was to know I'm his daughter. He didn't want me to receive special consideration.' Anger sparked in her eyes as she continued. 'I also discovered he expected me to spy on my fellow workers and report to him.' A smile teased her lips and she gazed into Mark's eyes with mock timidity. 'Shame I have such a bad memory when it comes to relating things I hear in the office.'

This spirited, determined woman was the Julie Mark remembered. Somewhere inside him he registered a faint glow of gratitude that she hadn't changed. 'How's he treating you?'

'I don't see him a lot, thank God, but he comes here at least once a week. He's trying to groom Andy to be like him. Andy thinks he loves him, but with Ray it's an ego thing. I disappointed him by being a girl, so he's pinning his hopes on his only grandchild. His mistresses never fell pregnant to him, so poor Andy's it.'

As though aware he was being discussed, one of the youngsters in the pool climbed out, grabbed his towel, and yelled for his mates to come up for something to eat. Mark noted the flashing grin that Andy had inherited from Julie.

Four wet, laughing boys trooped up the back stairs and onto the deck.

'Hold it right there, gang,' Julie laughed. 'I'll bring out some muffins and drinks.' She gestured to Mark. 'This is Mr Talbert,' and introduced Andy and his friends.

Mark nodded in reply to the chorus of 'Hellos', then stayed silent as the boys chatted among themselves. After a while Andy left the group, placed his towel on the table and sat in the opposite chair. 'That's really bad about your Dad,' he said.

'Yeah,' Mark felt the word drawn out of him. 'Yes, it is.'

'I missed my Dad a lot when he… left.'

'I bet you did.'

Andy nodded, seemingly satisfied that they'd said the right things to each other. Just then a gust of hot wind whirled through the yard and across the deck. The towel flipped up. Mark grabbed it before it could drop onto the milk jug. He pushed the towel over to Andy. The boy was staring at his forehead. Mark realised that the wind had blown his hair aside. Almost as though he couldn't help himself, Andy asked, 'How did you get that scar?'

Mark hesitated. He wanted to lie, and he was good at deception, but somehow it was important to him not to lose the fragile thread of respect he felt growing between them. From the corner of his vision he could see Julie walking onto the deck. 'I was shot,' he said softly.

Glasses clinked as Julie set the tray down hurriedly. 'Come on boys,' she called. Mark saw the whiteness in her face, and realised he'd probably said the wrong thing. Mothers usually don't want their young sons learning about things like that, he thought. Andy's eyes had saucered, but he said nothing, just looked at his mother, then moved to take a glass and a muffin.

After the boys returned to the pool, Julie turned to Mark and looked at the circular scar on his forehead. She tried not to think how close he must have come to dying. It did strange things in the pit her stomach. 'Is that why you've grown your hair long?' She'd noted the way it curled onto his collar and just over the scar.

Mark shrugged, brushed at his hair so it covered his forehead again, and stared out at the pool. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told him.'

'I'm not worried about you telling Andy. He's not a young child, Mark. But it must have been horrific for you. How did it happen?'

'Someone tried to kill me. Luckily the gun he used was a small calibre and the bullet ricocheted around in my sinus cavities and didn't penetrate the brain.'

Julie longed to touch him, but she could tell he had retreated from her emotionally, and she was afraid he would reject her sympathy. 'Why would someone want to kill you, Mark?'

Something flickered in his eyes, something hurt and very lonely. But his answer surprised her.

'I made an error of judgment. In my job that can be a costly mistake.'

'What is your job?'

Mark switched his gaze back to Julie. He was tired of deception, tired of the lies that his job entailed. Lately he had wondered if he were no longer capable of coping with some of the less savoury aspects of the world he'd chosen to live in. He wanted to be honest with Julie, to regain some of their closeness that had once seemed so essential to him. 'I work for the government.'

'Federal Police? ASIO?'

'No.' He hesitated. The job he did required a secrecy that only immediate family were allowed to have a glimpse of, and then only after they'd been thoroughly investigated and sanctioned. Julie didn't fit these criteria, but the deep, aching need inside him pushed protocol aside, and he muttered, 'Something… a little more covert.'

Silence stretched out between them. Mark watched the emotions that showed so expressively in Julie's eyes. Watched and waited, the thumping of his heart telling him that her acceptance of him had suddenly become very, very important.