Page 136
Story: The Curator (Washington Poe)
‘But then, weeks before you’re about to set off, your little sister turns up. She’s been trying to get pregnant and she now knows why she’s struggled. She has Addison’s disease and because it can be hereditary it means you might have Addison’s disease. You get yourself tested and, all of a sudden, your expedition is off. Stephanie’s dream of having children was the end of your dream of climbing the only mountain that matters.’
Jessica glared at him.
‘So you sought redress,’ he said. ‘As sick as it sounds, you thought it was only fair. A dream for a dream.’
He stopped talking.
Jessica Flynn threw back her head and roared with laughter.
‘You think this was about the baby? Fuck the baby! This was about respect. Respect and the fact that my uppity sister gives me none. I’m her big sister and that should mean something. It should count. She used to look up to me, used to rely on me. I’m worth millions; she didn’t even have enough money for her IVF. Zoe had to pay for it.’
Poe watched her carefully. She was behaving unpredictably and, although she was drunk, she’d be formidable if things turned violent.
‘I make decisions that affect the stock market, whereas she’s a nobody in a nothing job. A fucking servant. And she has the gall to look down on me? Where’s the respect? Where’s the fucking respect! How dare that fucking carpet muncher be happy? Why should she have everything while I have nothing?’
Poe looked at the apartment he was in. The expensive décor. The beautiful fittings. An original slice of history sitting on a plinth.
‘All this means nothing if she isn’t jealous!’ Jessica shrieked.
Poe stood. Easier to move.
‘Sit down!’
Poe didn’t.
‘You wanted your little sister back,’ he said, finally understanding. ‘You knew she’d spend the rest of her life searching for a baby she could never find. It would have consumed her. It would have ruined her relationship with Zoe. She’d have had no choice but to come back to you. She’d need your money to keep searching. She’d be back under your control again.’
‘And it would prove I’d been right all along. Being a police officer is a ridiculous job. So, yes, I paid someone to kill her baby. Big deal. I was going to make amends by setting up a foundation. I thought it would be nice if we could look for the baby together. We could have been a family again.’
Poe knew there and then that what she’d done had stripped her of her sanity. There would be no reasoning with her now; she’d been staring into the abyss for far too long.
He also knew he had no proof. The evidence could be on her laptop but he doubted it. With unlimited resources she’d have used a throwaway to communicate with Hartley-Graham.
All he had was a story.
Jessica reached the same conclusion.
‘Show me your handcuffs,’ she said.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Your handcuffs. Show them to me.’
Poe didn’t move.
‘That’s what I thought,’ she smirked. ‘You’re not here officially. If you had a shred of proof my door would have been kicked in and a bunch of dickheads in white suits would have searched this place top to bottom. And by the way, there’s nothing to find. Nothing to find means there’s nothing you can do. All you have is a number my solicitor will explain away without even trying.’
‘I don’t need proof,’ he said softly.
‘What are you talking about, you fucking idiot? Of course you need proof. No proof, no case.’
She walked over to her front door.
‘I’d like you to leave now.’
Poe didn’t budge.
Table of Contents
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- Page 136 (Reading here)
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