Chapter 29
Oh my God, you are such a dick!
Rafe
My first instinct was to protect my son.
Luckily, thanks to Clara, my schedule was clear for the foreseeable future.
I had all the time in the world to go to the school.
There was to be an investigation into the reasons behind my recusal, which I had encouraged.
I had nothing to hide apart from the shame and humiliation of my poor judgement.
So, at school drop-off that morning I was determined to speak to the teachers.
Ozzie had asked after Clara last night, and I hadn’t had the heart to tell him that she wasn’t coming back, or that he would never see her again.
It was going to devastate Ozzie, and I was devastated enough for the both of us.
I didn’t think I could cope with a crying Ozzie on top of that.
So I just told him that she wasn’t well and that I wasn’t sure when she’d be back.
“Wasn’t well like last time?” Ozzie had asked in his worried little voice, and I hated Clara even more. How dare she worry my son?
“I’m not sure, buddy,” I muttered. But then my mind flashed back to when Clara had been “ill” before, to the bruising and the cast on her arm.
For a moment my blood went cold before I shook my head to clear it.
Clara was with her family now. I doubted the Masons would let some dickhead ex-boyfriend near the precious daughter of the family.
“Miss Summerfield,” I snapped as I strode into her classroom. Fuck the diktat about parents not being able to invade their sacred domain. I was done playing by an arbitrary set of rules that, quite frankly, made absolutely no sense to me.
“Lord Sterling,” Lily said, frowning across at me. “I’m terribly sorry, but I think you’ll have to return later. As you can see, I’m incredibly—”
“No,” I cut her off and her eyebrows flew up into her hairline. “I will not speak to you later. I’ll speak to you now. Have someone else take your class.” All the kids were staring up at me then. Ozzie looked furious.
“Well, I don't think that this is—”
“It’s about Clara.”
Her face fell. “Oh,” she breathed out. “Right. Is she—?”
“I need to talk to you about Clara privately,” I told her.
Lily took in the seriousness of my stance and my unwavering glare and took action. Within five minutes, the teaching assistant from the class next door was supervising hers.
When we were outside the classroom, Lily turned to me. I could see the worry in her expression clearly now. “What about Clara?” she asked. “Rafe, where is she?”
“I do not wish to conduct this discussion in the middle of a corridor, and due to the seriousness of the situation, Mrs Clayton should be present.”
“The seriousness of the…” Lily muttered, her eyes going wide. “Oh my God, has something happened to Clara?”
I blinked at her. “What? No. Clara’s fine.”
She let out a huge breath, her shoulders sagging in relief and I started to have an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Thank Christ,” she said, with real feeling. “Okay, let’s go and see Mrs C.”
Once we were in Mrs Clayton’s office, with both of them looking at me expectantly, I let rip with my misgivings.
“You have a Clarabelle Mason in your employ,” I said.
Miss Clayton’s head tipped to the side. She glanced at Lily and then back at me.
The woman knew Clara’s full name, that much was clear.
This was not a surprise to her. I frowned down at her.
“Are you in the habit of employing people who have to go by false names?” I said in a stern voice.
“I would have thought that in order for there to be a correct DBS check, you would need to be using the person’s full and correct name. ”
“We’ve done all the relevant checks on Clara,” Mrs Clayton snapped. “Yes, we knew that Morris was not her real surname, but there were exceptional circumstances that we—”
“Do those exceptional circumstances include your employee being part of a criminal network so horrific that it has been the source of nearly thirty percent of all violent crime in east London for the last two years?”
Mrs Clayton frowned at me then. “Part of?” she whispered.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Lily put in. “Clara is not part of their criminal network.”
“I’m sorry, did you not just admit that her surname was Mason?”
“Just because that’s her bloody surname doesn’t mean that she has anything to do with those animals,” said Lily, her voice rising now.
“Let me be clear,” I said, having had enough of this nonsense.
Why on earth these women felt they needed to cover up for Clara’s ongoing association with her family was a complete mystery.
“I will not have my son attend a school that employs someone like Clarabelle Mason. Her employment will be terminated with immediate effect, or I will be withdrawing my funding from the current plans for the new performing arts studio. I will also be withdrawing my son from this school and encouraging my friends to do the same. I saw Clarabelle with her family yesterday in court. She very much does have everything to do with them.”
I was quite pleased with my rant. I felt it conveyed all the threats and disappointment in a dignified manner. However, it was as if Mrs Clayton and Lily hadn’t heard me. They weren’t even looking at me. They were staring at each other.
“Oh God,” said Lily in a shaky voice.
Mrs Clayton’s gaze snapped back to me then. “Listen to me, Rafe. You tell us right this minute where Clara is.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Did you not hear me? I do not want Clara employed at the school here anymore, and furthermore—”
“For fuck’s sake, Rafe!” shouted Mrs Clayton, and my mouth fell open in shock.
I had never heard her utter anything that could even vaguely be classed as a swear word, let alone imagine that she could actually pull out the F-bomb.
“Have your little temper tantrum another time. Tell us where Clara is now.”
I threw my hands up in frustration. “With her fucking family, I imagine,” I said. “She seemed pretty cosy with them yesterday in court, where she was sitting directly behind the defendant in an extremely high-profile criminal case.”
Mrs Clayton sat back down heavily in her chair, her face draining of all colour as her hand went to her throat.
“I am sorry that I had to inform you of this,” I said stiffly. I didn’t want to give the poor woman a heart attack after all. “And I am sorry that you trusted someone like Clarabelle Mason, but quite frankly, I—”
“Shut up, Rafe,” snapped Lily.
“How dare you speak to me in that manner? I—”
“I’m afraid I’m going to need you to rein in the arsehole long enough to tell us where the fuck Clara is,” Lily continued as she glared at me across the room. “You may not give one single shit about her well-being, but I assure you we do.”
“Why should I give a shit about Clarabelle Mason’s well-being?” I said, losing my grip on my temper now.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Lily said, “maybe because you’re in love with her? But then I wouldn’t expect a stone-cold fuckwaffle like you to take something petty like that into consideration.”
“Did you hear what I told you? She was sitting with her family in the courtroom.”
“Yes, I heard what you told me, you wanker. Why do you think I’m so fucking stressed out? Do you know where she is now or not?”
“I have no idea and no interest in the whereabouts of Clarabelle Mason. I’m merely here to establish—”
“Oh, do bugger off, Rafe,” Mrs Clayton put in, and I gaped at her in disbelief. What was wrong with these women?
“Listen,” I said in one last attempt to get them to see reason. “She’s been stringing you all along as well. Aren’t you pissed off?”
“Clara has done nothing but protect herself,” Mrs Clayton said, her voice steady now with that thread of steel I’d heard many times before as a child.
“Everyone has a right to protect themselves, Rafe. I’m sorry she didn’t tell you more, but it’s obvious that she didn’t trust you enough.
And to be honest, from your behaviour here today, I think that was a good call, don’t you? ”
“My behaviour? What the...?” I spluttered. “I don’t think you understand. I had to recuse myself from a case that I’d been working on for months. Clarabelle Mason has completely fucked up my career. I’m under investigation. You can’t imagine the amount of hassle this is going to cause me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Lily, not sounding sorry at all. “This is going to cause you some hassle, is it?” She rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. Take your self-important, pompous arse out of here. We’ve got to start looking for Clara.”
“I cannot understand this attitude,” I snapped. “Quite honestly, it’s ridiculous that you––”
“Oh my God, you are such a dick!” shouted Lily. My head ticked to the side in surprise, and my eyes narrowed, but Lily continued undeterred. “If you saw Clara with her family, then she is not safe.”
“Why wouldn’t she be safe with her family? She’s one of them, for God’s sake! Believe me, I saw her; she was right there with them in full support.”
Mrs Clayton stood up from her chair, patting her hair down. Her previous slip with her emotions forgotten, back to the stoic headmistress that I knew.
“Rafe Sterling,” she said, that thread of steel still there. “You’ve made your threats. You’ve done what you came here to do. I’m sorry if you think that Clara has messed with your precious career. But I would really like you to leave now.”
“Did you have any contact with her at the court?” Lily asked suddenly. “Did she say anything to you? Did she at least try to…?” She broke off and swallowed before going on. “Did she try to speak to you? It’s really important.”
I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. “She did make an approach after I’d recused myself and been bloody well thrown out of my own courtroom. But I wasn’t in the mood to speak to the architect of my downfall. I’d been humiliated enough.”
“Oh my God,” Lily whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “She tried to stop you. She tried to speak to you, and you brushed her off? Are you serious?”
“What the fuck is going on?” I shouted at them, losing my temper then.
“Just go away, Rafe,” Mrs Clayton said, sounding weary now.
Well fuck it. I wasn’t wasting any more time on some career-ruining bitch and two teachers who weren’t making any bloody sense.
Anyway, seeing as Clara hadn’t had the gall to return to work, I didn’t need to throw my weight around to get her fired.
I told myself that was a good thing. It meant I wouldn’t have to see her again, and that was the last thing I wanted…
wasn’t it? I ignored the deep ache in my chest at the thought of never being near Clara again, and the twist in my gut when my brain conjured up the image of her small face, looking up at me in that corridor yesterday, the desperation I had seen in her eyes. How she’d asked me for help.
I was quite sure her family were desperate, and they would only become more so once the next case came to fruition. The evidence against Freddie Mason was overwhelming, and as for the rest of the Mason network… they were fucked.
Even with me out of the picture, the prosecution was solid.
Clara probably would do anything to help her brother get off, but I wasn’t going to help her.
I wasn’t having her manipulate me any more than she already had.
Apart from anything, it could be a career-ending mistake.
So I stormed out of the school without looking back.
But as the day went on, I had this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something was very wrong. That’s why after Ozzie read to me, having been placated with more lies about Clara’s whereabouts, and I put him to bed, I decided to ring Grant.
Grant Mitchell was the main coordinating detective inspector for both Freddie Mason’s case and the case being built against the Mason family.
And he was the one who knew the most about the dynamics of the organisation.
He picked up after two rings, and I wasted no time telling him why I was calling.
“Clarabelle Mason,” I said simply, and he sighed.
“Where are you going with this, Rafe? I heard what happened in the courthouse. There’s no point in talking to you about Clara.”
I frowned. “Clara? How do you know to call her Clara?”
There was silence on the other end of the line.
“Listen,” I went on, “why wasn’t Clarabelle Mason mentioned in any of the investigating paperwork for the Mason case? You talk about the mum, you talk about every single member of that family, but you don’t mention Clarabelle at all, except in passing.”
“There was no reason to talk about Clarabelle Mason,” he said firmly, having reverted to her longer name, but the slip-up had already been made, and noted by me.
“You know her,” I whispered. “You know Clara, don’t you?”
“Listen, Rafe. All the relevant information to convict Freddie was in that file. We only interviewed the family to see if we could expand the case to any of their other activities, but nobody talked. It’s irrelevant now because, for the upcoming case, we have everything that we need to take down the Masons anyway, thanks to our access to the messaging network. ”
“Why would you keep Clara’s name out of the file?” I pushed. “You had extensive reports on each member of that family. The mum hasn’t hurt a fly, but there were two pages dedicated to her. Why not the same for Clarabelle?”
“This is pointless old ground,” said Grant.
“Don’t lie to me,” I snapped. “What aren’t you telling me? For fuck’s sake, Grant, can you just––”
“Look, why do you even care?” Grant snapped. “First Willow, and now you giving me hassle.”
“Willow rang you?”
“I told her the same as I’m telling you: I can’t compromise my sources. Got me?”
“Your sources? What does that have to do with Clara?”
“Drop it, Rafe.”
And that was when I realised.
I sat down heavily on my office chair and felt the blood drain out of my face.
Christ. I had been so goddamn blind.
“Grant, I’m going to need your help.”