Chapter 28 Not Hers to Wear
Not Hers to Wear
Despite all their time living together, Gareth still didn’t know what drove Jack’s music choices.
That night, saxophone jazz wafted from the loudspeakers in his den along with the sounds of heavy rain.
Jack lay stretched out in his chair with his head thrown back and contemplated what Gareth had learned to recognise as spaghetti salad in four dimensions spread across all seven screens.
He also knew what the garbled mess meant.
Jack was stuck.
Gareth wondered whether it might be a better idea to return the mug of coffee he’d brought to the kitchen and come back with a couple of shots of whisky.
“It’s fine,” Jack said as if he’d heard the thoughts and held out his hand. “Coffee is just what I need.”
“That’s not what Frazer told me the last time your screens looked like this. He said you needed a bottle of hooch to help you unravel that. And why rain?”
“What?”
“Your music. It’s raining.”
Jack shrugged. “It’s soothing. Helps me think.”
“About?”
“A touch of digital B and E.”
Gareth sighed. When Jack was doing what he did best, he didn’t speak English.
“Don’t make that face, Flynn. The wind might change.” Jack kept his eyes on his screens, but he knew what he was doing to Gareth. “Daniel remembered something and I’m trying to piece it together.”
“Care to share? Or do you want me to leave you in peace and ask him?”
Jack spun his chair around. “Maybe not a good idea. We might be in for another rough night as it is.”
Gareth had expected as much. “I didn’t think they’d be up to discussing it yet.”
“In a lopsided kind of way, I think they are. Nico distracted himself with Aidan’s case, but now he’s stuck and—”
“About that.” Gareth hesitated, unsure where to start.
“What is it?”
“I asked Conrad if he knows a tracing agent who’d be happy to spend a few days teaching Nico the basics,” he said. “The legal techniques, I mean. When Nico asked you to teach him to hunt, you handed him Aidan’s case instead of one of yours, which made me think you wouldn’t mind.”
A smile curved Jack’s lips. “That’s a genius idea!
Of course, I don’t want him to hang out in chatrooms or rifle through some pervert’s porn stash.
That’s why I jumped on Aidan’s case. And Nico and Daniel found a significant piece of the puzzle without having to do anything illegal.
So… yeah, go for it. If Conrad can’t help, we can ask Raf, or Lisa. ”
“Yes, that might work, too.”
Jack’s gaze flicked back to his screens, reminding Gareth where that conversation had started. “I thought you were trying to work out how Pavel found the boys, but you said Daniel remembered something?”
“What? Oh, yes, he did. A comment Goran’s brother made. He’s even been watching the recordings from the security cameras to make sure he heard what he thought he did,” he said, admiration plain in his voice. “He thinks maybe Manville put Pavel onto them.”
“Manville?”
“Yep. I’ve been trying to come up with a way to trace a connection between the two.” He waved at the mess on his screens. “Haven’t got far yet.”
Gareth parked half an arse cheek on Jack’s armrest. “Are you trying to prove they know each other?”
“Some kind of interaction. Why?”
“Because I’m thinking about that town hall you did at work. When you showed us how much of our confidential information is spread all over the web for anyone to use. Couldn’t this be what happened here? Maybe someone posted a picture of Nico and Daniel, and somewhere else Goran’s brother saw it.”
“Normally, I’d agree. But happenstance can’t account for Pavel using a phrase that Daniel was used to hearing in their dance lessons.” He quickly summarised what Daniel had told him, and Gareth nodded.
“You have a point. So… how do you prove they’ve exchanged information when they may have never run across each other in person?”
“Patience and perseverance.” Jack pointed at the mess on his screens. “The answer’s in there. It’s up to me to find it.”
Gareth set the teapot on his desk and yawned.
It was not even five o’clock yet, but he had too much going on to sleep any longer.
They’d resurrected many of their original safety measures, and ensuring Daniel and Nico went nowhere alone meant Gareth and Jack were away from their desks for part of the day.
An early start—for Gareth—or a long night—for Jack—ensured their Nancarrow jobs didn’t suffer.
Even if it meant he didn’t see as much of Jack as he liked.
They’d had a few wins. Daniel had gone back to working at the deli, and Nico loved every minute he spent at Kinnor and Gold, the tracing agents Aidan had introduced them to.
Jim Gold, the older of the two partners, was training Nico himself, and he was using the McTavish case for Nico to practice.
Nobody was surprised when Nico came home enamoured with the idea of finding missing people.
Gareth poured tea and settled at his desk and—at five o’clock exactly—his phone rang.
“Good morning,” Julian said when Gareth answered the call. “I have good news. How are things at your end?”
“Getting better. Jack’s sorted the insurance, and we’re done with the police interviews.” Those had been difficult for them all and were—at least in Gareth’s mind—the reason for most of the current crop of nightmares. “Oh, and the appraisals for my team are all with HR.”
“So I heard.” Julian sounded amused. “I have a few department heads lining up to hear what you did.”
“Listen to my guys? Truly, Julian, this isn’t rocket science.”
“For you, it isn’t. You don’t shy from pulling the weeds.”
“Well, if you have the good news I imagine, then you don’t either.”
Julian Nancarrow chuckled. “The auditors’ report is in your inbox along with a draft of a letter I’m planning to send to Ronald and Cecily. Aidan and Alex have copies, too. Let me know what you think.”
“You’re still prepared to buy them out?”
“Not anymore. The auditors have put a rather alarming figure on the damage their actions have caused, and I’m going to suggest they sign over their shares or face legal action. I’ve bent over backwards for years. I’m not letting them destroy my grandfather’s legacy.”
Gareth wanted to point out that Julian had invested plenty of time and effort, too, but he knew the words would fall on deaf ears. Julian was very much like Jack that way.
“I’ll give them a read. It doesn’t solve the root cause, but having your cousins out of your hair will help.”
“I’ll light candles in thanks once Cecily is gone,” Julian agreed. “I’d love to have the real problem fixed, but as side effects go, I won’t turn that one down.”
Gareth agreed it was a start.
After just over a week of working with Jim Gold, Nico had located Valerie Franklin. “Actually, we found their mother first. She’s in a nursing home in Clerkenwell. She has Alzheimer’s.”
Jack could see where that one was going. “And you think Margot McTavish took her sister’s place to be with their mother?”
“It makes sense, right? Jim says that nursing homes have strict rules about who can visit and such. Maybe Valerie was the only one who could let Mrs McTavish in. And when she had a heart attack, there went Mrs McTavish’s chance of ever seeing her mum again.”
“And then you did what?”
“Jim contacted the nursing home to find out how long Mrs Franklin had been there, who had visiting rights and such. He can do that, being a tracing agent.” The grin Nico gave him was one Jack recognised.
“But I noticed there’s a camera almost opposite the entrance to the nursing home—did I say they have a map with all the traffic cams on it?
—so while Jim was busy, I watched that. And guess what? ”
“What?” Jack fought the urge to ruffle Nico’s hair.
That wild excitement that came with picking up trails and unearthing secrets looked good on him.
He mentally high-fived Gareth for thinking of tracing agents.
It wasn’t a service Jack had ever needed, but it offered Nico additional options—and made Jack feel less guilty about dragging Nico into his own shadowy war.
“I spotted Mrs McTavish go in! It was definitely her, only not as nicely dressed as she was in the photos Aidan gave you. She still looked sad, though. Do you think she’ll talk to us?”
Tracing agents, Jack had learned during the previous hour, could be licensed for doorstep tracing and contacting their targets.
After establishing that Miss Franklin spent most of each day with her mother and then calling Aidan, Jim Gold offered Nico a chance to observe his meeting with Margot McTavish. Jack owed him for that.
They’d be home later than anticipated—and a quick text to Gareth had taken care of that—but Nico would have the experience of seeing a case to its conclusion.
They drove in convoy to Clerkenwell and Jack waited with Nico in the nurse’s break room for Jim’s signal. Nico nearly vibrated out of his skin, prompting Jack to place a hand on his shoulder. “Patience, Nico.”
“But what if she sees us and runs away?”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “How’s she going to see us? And why would she run when she’s gone to all this trouble to be with her mother?”
Nico was spared an answer, as Jim appeared in the doorway. “It’s her,” he said. “I told her who we are, and why we’re there. I’ve also told her how you helped find her and she’s happy to talk to you.”
“You’ll still take her to Aidan?”
“After visiting hours are over, yes. There’s no need to drag her away from her mother before she’s ready to leave, right?”
They followed Jim to a room at the end of the corridor. It was bright and cheerful by nursing home standards—and it made Jack itch to get out as fast as he could. Instead, he stayed planted by Nico’s side.
Margot McTavish sat beside the bed of a very old lady, holding the frail hand in hers.
“You’re the young man putting so much work into finding me?” she said, her voice reminding Jack of a teacher. “Whatever made you do that?”