Murder at the Rocks (3 page)

‘I didn’t realise my father had employed a nurse.’

‘I spent the last three months with him.  He had no intention of going into hospital toward the end.’  She smiled.  ‘He was a very determined man.’

‘I know.’  An awkward silence ensued as their eyes locked.

‘The reason I called, is to give you this.’  Ellen reached into her handbag and brought out a green velvet case.  ‘Your father wanted you to have it.  I understand it belonged to your mother.’   Nicholas took the case.

‘I’m sorry you didn’t get back in time.  He so wished to see you before he died.’

‘If I’d known his health had failed him I’d have returned sooner, but unfortunately we’d lost contact.’

‘So I understand.’

Nicholas looked from Ellen to the green case in his hand and lifted its lid.  Inside laid a gold locket, its face encrusted with three emeralds and encircled by small diamonds.  It was pressed into one of two indentations in the satin fabric.  The second indentation in the shape of a small key lay empty.

Nicholas removed the locket and held it up by its gold chain.  ‘You know, I don’t remember my mother wearing this which I find strange because I know she loved jewellery.’  Nicholas touched the empty indentation.  ‘It’s a shame the key is lost.  We aren’t able to know its secrets.’  He lifted his eyebrows and smiled at Ellen before placing the locket back into the case and closing the lid.  ‘Thanks for bringing it.  I appreciate you taking the time.’

‘It’s the least I could do.  Your father seemed desperate that you should have it.  I think it put his mind at rest when I promised to make sure you received it.’

‘And yet there’s no note from him.’

‘No.  I did ask whether he wished to dictate one, but he said it wouldn’t be necessary because the locket’s message would become clear.’

‘Seems an odd thing to say.’

‘I agree, but I didn’t press the point.  Your father didn’t like a lot of questions.’

‘You obviously grew to know his idiosyncrasies quite well.’

‘He wasn’t an easy person to get along with, but I think we managed quite well under the circumstances.’

Ellen Ashworth smiled and looked at her watch.  ‘Well, I must get home.  I have a locksmith coming around this evening.  I thought it a good idea to improve my security being that I work a lot of nights.’

‘Where are you working now?’

‘St Vincent’s Hospital at the moment.  I work for a nursing agency so I tend to move around a bit.’  Ellen got to her feet and started toward the door.

‘Have you been in Australia long?’

‘A couple of years.’

‘Oh, so it’s not a working holiday.’

‘No.  I came out with the intention of staying.  And you?  Will you be returning to South America?’

‘Not for the moment.  My sabbatical’s ended.  I’m due back at Sydney University next week.’

‘You’re a geoscientist, your father said.’

‘I’m surprised he could utter the word.  My work was always a bone of contention between us.’  They crossed the hall and Nicholas opened the front door.

‘Well, if it’s any comfort, I believe he changed his views toward the end.’  Ellen paused.  ‘It happens sometimes.’

‘Then perhaps I can talk to you about him sometime.  You may be able to fill in some of the gaps.’

‘Of course.  I’d be more than happy to do that.  Let’s see.  I’m sure I have a card here with my contact details.’  Ellen reached into her handbag.  ‘Yes, here we are.’  She handed the card to Nicholas.

Nicholas watched Ellen as she made her way along the garden path and out to her car before closing the door and returning to the study.  There, he walked over to the desk and opened the green velvet case again.  Why had his father been so anxious for him to have this locket and what did he mean when he said its message would become clear?

Half an hour later, the Silver Cab pulled up in front of Brayshaw’s Jewellers, its grey stonework facade unchanged in Nicholas’s memory.  After paying the driver, he hesitated for a moment before entering the small foyer leading to the retail outlet on the ground floor and the staircase to the offices and workshops above.  As he did so, he saw Howard Parish, Brayshaw’s accountant, descending the stairs.  A slight man in his early sixties, Howard, he knew, had come to work at Brayshaw’s shortly before his father’s retirement from the firm and his own departure for South America.  A look of surprise crossed the older man’s face and after a moment’s hesitation, he smiled.  ‘It’s Nick Harford, isn’t it?  I thought I recognised you.’

Nicholas took Howard’s outstretched hand.  ‘Yes, we met just before Dad retired.’

‘Of course.  You’ve been away, I understand.’

‘Yes, I arrived back yesterday.’

‘My condolences, by the way.  Your father was a fine man.’

‘Thanks, Howard.  He was indeed.’

At that moment, the sound of raised voices came from above.  Howard Parish looked back up the stairway before turning once again to Nicholas, strain evident in his eyes.  ‘Well, if you’ll excuse me.  I have an appointment at the bank in a few minutes.  I daresay I’ll see you again soon.’

As Howard Parish hurried away, Nicholas started up the stairs, but as he did so, he heard a door slam and saw a short, stout man running down toward him.  As recognition came to Nicholas, the man pushed past him and disappeared out into the street.  Startled, Nicholas stood motionless.

‘What are you doing here?’

At the sound of Laurence’s voice Nicholas looked up to see him on the landing above, his face red with rage.

‘I came to talk to you about the company,’ he said as he started up the stairs again.

Laurence sneered.  ‘You’re wasting your time.  I said everything I had to say this morning in Pemlett’s office.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a business to run.’  Laurence turned to leave, but as he did so, his eyes looked down into the stairwell and his face paled.  Nicholas followed his gaze to see a man in a rumpled brown suit on the ground floor glowering at Laurence.  After a long hesitation and without another word, Laurence turned and walked back into Brayshaw’s main office.  Nicholas followed.  Inside, a young woman sat behind a desk, a look of alarm on her face.  ‘I don’t want to be disturbed, Constance.’

‘Yes, Mr Harford,’ she said, staring at Nicholas as he walked past her desk and into Laurence’s office.

After he closed the door, Nicholas looked around the large room that had once been occupied by his father.  With its walls now adorned with Laurence’s war memorabilia, any trace of Edward Harford was gone.

As if unaware of Nicholas’s presence, Laurence crossed to the window where he looked down into the street below.  After a moment, he turned back.  ‘I thought I told you you’re wasting your time.  You’re not having anything to do with this company.  The last thing I need is some academic interfering,
Dr Harford,
so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll just sign over your shares to me now and save us both a lot of trouble.’

Nicholas glared at Laurence, realising for the second time that day why his father had loathed his brother.  As his anger rose he said, ‘Now why would I want to do that?’

Laurence’s face reddened.  ‘Because, you stupid bastard, it’ll be more trouble to you than it’s worth if you don’t.’  As Laurence’s animosity grew, Nicholas sensed the futility of trying to come to some sort of understanding over Brayshaw’s.  He watched as Laurence felt in his pocket and brought out a cigarette case, its gold surface catching the sun and flashing light onto the far wall.  ‘I’ll contest the will and you’ll lose everything.  It’s as simple as that,’ his said, his nicotine stained fingers opening the case and taking out a cigarette.  Putting it between his thin lips, he struck a match.  After dragging on it, he exhaled.  ‘Surely you don’t think you can challenge me and win.’

‘We’ll see about that.’  Nicholas turned to leave.

‘I warned Edward what would happen if he didn’t leave me his shares, but then he always was a fool.  Of course, he demonstrated that when he married that money grabbing whore of a mother of yours.’

As the words left Laurence’s lips, Nicholas whirled around, his fist slamming into Laurence’s face sending his body reeling backwards into a small cabinet.  Seconds later, shards of glass from its doors flew into the air before Laurence’s large frame fell to the floor.

‘You’ll live to regret those words.’  Nicholas turned again to leave finding Constance Plummer in the open doorway glaring at him.  He pushed past her and made his way back down the staircase and into the foyer below.  Barely noticing the man in the rumpled brown suit huddled in a darkened corner, he stepped out into the rain sodden street and walked with a determined stride toward Circular Quay.  As he went, Laurence’s words reverberated in his mind and he barely noticed his leather soled shoes slipping on the wet stone steps next to the Museum of Contemporary Art as he descended into First Fleet Park.  Oblivious to the haunting sound of a didgeridoo flowing through the air, he carried on past the ferry terminals toward his hotel.

Minutes later and still seething, Nicholas walked into the Sir Stamford lobby and over to the reception desk.  The desk clerk looked up and smiled.  ‘Good evening, sir.  Can I help you?’

‘Yes.  Could you make up my bill?  I’ll be leaving this evening.’

The desk clerk, sensing Nicholas’s disquiet, gave him a quizzical look.  ‘Is there a problem with your room, sir?’

‘No.  It’s just that my plans have had to be changed.’

‘It’s Dr Harford, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘I understand there’s a gentleman waiting for you in The Bar, sir.  It’s to the right behind the reception area.  A Mr LaSalle, I believe.’  A look of surprise crossed Nicholas’s face.  ‘I’ll have your account waiting for you, Dr Harford.’

Nicholas walked along the narrow passageway, the sound of his leather-soled shoes accentuated on the marble floor.  At the end, he came to a long rectangular room, its dark green wallpaper adorned with gilt framed masters, creating an atmosphere of old world charm.  A short, lean man stood at the bar.  Impeccably dressed in a dark blue suit, maroon tie and crisp white shirt, he looked around as Nicholas walked in.

‘Mr LaSalle?’

‘Piers, please.  And you must be Nick Harford.  I’ve been halfway around the world looking for you.’  Nicholas took Piers’s outstretched hand.

‘So I understand.’  Nicholas ordered a glass of whisky and they made their way to a small table beside one of the sash windows, settling themselves into two rounded leather-backed chairs.

‘What were you doing in Ecuador, by the way?’ asked Piers.

‘Field work into the eruptive behaviour of the volcano, Cotopaxi.’  Nicholas grinned.

Piers’s eyebrows rose.  ‘No wonder I couldn’t find you.  I concentrated my search in other areas.  Your father didn’t seem to have any knowledge of what field work you were involved in.’

‘He wouldn’t have.  I didn’t know myself till after I arrived.’  Nicholas paused as he ran his index finger around his glass.  ‘I’m afraid Dad and I didn’t part on good terms, and we never kept in touch.’  He took a gulp of his whisky.

‘Well, I think you can rest assured that he did have a change of heart and was regretful.  In fact, he gave me this letter to give to you when we finally met up.’  Piers felt in his inside coat pocket and brought out an envelope.  ‘I know it’s not ideal, but it might help somewhat.’

‘Thanks, Piers.’

Piers LaSalle sat back in his chair.  ‘I know it’s none of my business, but at the time I spoke to your father, it seemed to me that he was worried about Brayshaw’s being left in the hands of his brother.’

‘I daresay he was.  He and Laurence despised each other.  In fact I’ve just come from seeing Laurence.’

‘Not a good reunion?’

Nicholas shook his head.  ‘Apparently his animosity extends to me too.’  Piers did not reply but waited for Nicholas to continue.  ‘Andrew Pemlett read my father’s will this morning.  Dad left his entire estate to me including his controlling interest in Brayshaw’s.’

‘I don’t imagine that went down well.’

‘No. Laurence said unless I sign over my shares, he’ll contest the will.’

‘And did you agree?’

‘Heavens, no.  I think I can see why my father detested the man.’  Nicholas paused.  ‘I’ve often wondered what happened between those two and now I think it must have been because Laurence is so impossible to deal with.’

‘Perhaps.  You may never find out for sure now your Dad’s gone.’

‘Unless he’s explained it all in here.’  Nicholas held up the letter.  ‘Would you mind?’

‘No, go right ahead.  I’ll get another drink.’

‘As Piers left the table, Nicholas opened the envelope and took out a single sheet of his father’s embossed writing paper.  He unfolded it and ran his eyes over his father’s familiar script before reading.

Dear Nicholas,

I am writing this letter in the event that we are unable to speak again before my death.  I want you to know that our estrangement has brought me much anguish and regret.  With this in mind, I wish to apologise for my unbending and oppressive ways of the past, and hope that you will forgive me.  All I can say in my defence is that I always wanted the best for you.

This brings me to the second reason for writing.  As I have always planned, my entire estate is left to you including my controlling shares in Brayshaw’s.  In so doing, I realise the problems you are likely to face with respect to my brother, Laurence, and for this, I apologise.  I do have one request however - that you take over management of Brayshaw’s for one year.  If at the end of that time, you choose to sell your controlling interest, you have my full agreement.  I only ask that you do not sell to my brother, Laurence.

Although we have never spoken of it, Nicholas, you are, I know, aware of the rift that exists between Laurence and me.  The reason for it, I am not at liberty to divulge.  I am also aware that my brother may choose to contest my will, and in the event of this happening, he has been made aware of the consequences.  I am confident that it will be enough to dissuade him.

Finally, Nicholas, I want to wish you every success in your endeavours whatever they might be and only wish I had been wise enough to foster them while I had the chance.