Chapter Forty-Five
HE WATCHES IN real time, fascinated, grateful they never spotted the second camera in the front room. They think they’re safe, that they found them all. Those handheld devices, like the one he’s seen Ted scanning the house with, are useless if you don’t really know what you’re doing.
There are things going on here that he didn’t know about. He didn’t know about this. Who the hell broke into this woman’s house last night looking for the files? And killed her husband? They don’t have the footage, because he does. This is what you call collateral damage.
Obviously the Westcotts got someone to do this; they’re trying to find the files, to identify their blackmailer.
And whoever they sent, he’s ruthless.
Ted waits for John in their old spot by the Model Boat Pond in Central Park. If John attacked the Donleavys last night, he doesn’t want him anywhere near Brooklyn Heights. He’s seething with rage. This is all completely out of control. He would like to beat John Burnley to a pulp.
Lara drove a hard bargain. Ted hadn’t had much choice. Once she’d left, agreeing not to tell the police the truth, Jill had turned on him with a viciousness he hadn’t thought her capable of.
‘What the fuck?’ she yelled at him. ‘Ben is dead!’ She railed at him. ‘Did you have anything to do with this? Tell me the truth!’ And she’d hammered her fists against his chest until he’d had to grab her arms and hold them still.
He’d told her a half-truth. He admitted that he’d asked John for help looking into the identity of the blackmailer. Jill had been furious, ranting at him about his stupidity, his poor judgement. He told her that John had promised that he would be discreet, that he’d promised no violence.
But John had promised nothing of the sort. Ted hadn’t even inquired. He’d been prepared to let John do whatever was necessary, as long as he solved the problem, and as long as it wasn’t Ted getting his hands dirty.
But he hadn’t solved the problem, he’d made it worse. Ted hadn’t anticipated anything like this. He’d thought maybe John would break into their house while they were out and look through their laptops, nothing more. John, he has learned, is a loose cannon. He can’t control him.
Lost in thought, he suddenly becomes aware of John approaching him. There’s no smile today, not even one of contrition. Ted speaks first. ‘What a shit show.’
‘So you’ve heard,’ John says.
‘Of course I’ve heard! Lara Donleavy was just at our house, telling us all about it. And your little home invasion is all over the news. What the fuck were you thinking?’ he hisses, his face close to John’s.
‘I was doing what you asked me to do, which was to find out who has the files. They don’t.’ He steps back, pulls out a cigarette, puts it to his lips, and lights it.
‘Did you have to kill him?’
‘Is that what she said, that I killed him?’ He sucks deeply on the cigarette, blows out the smoke. ‘I suppose I did, but it was an accident. I was already leaving, and the idiot came after me. I acted in self-defence.’
Ted looks back at him, incredulous. He’s not sure what to believe. John is unreadable, a cipher.
‘Why would I kill him?’ John asks reasonably. ‘What would be the point? I hurt her, to make her talk, to make him talk, but it was clear they didn’t have them. I checked all their devices just to be sure.’ He adds, ‘I’m not happy he’s dead either.’
A long silence falls between them, an uncomfortable silence. They stand in the biting cold. At last, John asks, ‘What did she tell the police?’
‘Nothing. She’s not going to say anything about the camera footage,’ Ted says, his voice bitter, ‘but she wants a hefty cut for it.’
‘Poor you. Money doesn’t go as far as it used to, does it?’ John says.
Ted turns on him, rather viciously. ‘Not when everyone wants a cut! And I still don’t know who actually has the damn files! How much do you think he’s going to want?’
John turns away from him and looks across the still pond, into the distance.
Ted says, more quietly, ‘You just killed a man. You’ve made things exponentially worse. Just – just stay out of it! I’ll figure it out on my own. I’ll find out who this fucking bastard is.’
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ John says.
‘I’m sure,’ Ted snaps. With that, he abruptly walks away.
He hears John call after him, ‘Good luck with that.’
John watches Ted stride away from him. He drops his cigarette to the ground and rubs it out angrily with his foot.
It sounds like this will go down as a simple home invasion.
That’s good. He’d been worried. He doesn’t want Lara Donleavy telling the police the truth, doesn’t want the police finding out about the recordings and the blackmail.
Because if Ted’s arrested, he might tell the police that John was the one behind Ben Donleavy’s death. He’s glad Lara saw sense.
Screw Ted. John still has avenues to pursue. The cleaning lady is worth looking at. He already knows where she lives. But he will have to be more careful now.
Once he has the files, he’ll show Ted who’s boss.
‘Well?’ Jill says, when Ted arrives home.
She says it with contempt, and she can tell he feels it by the hurt on his face.
She doesn’t care. She no longer respects him, and how can you love someone who you don’t respect?
He’s made one mistake after another – involving John Burnley is just the latest one.
She doesn’t think Ted is weak, but she thinks he’s stupid, and that’s almost worse.
She berates herself for having married a loser, for having joined such a perilous enterprise with a man who is a fool.
How had she not seen his true worth before?
She’d been so blinded by his supposed wealth and good looks, by all his trappings of success and the promise of an easy life.
And she’d been seduced by his adoration of her, by the way he treated her, like she was the most precious thing that ever was.
He still loves her, she knows that, and he’s afraid of losing her.
He just doesn’t realize that he already has.
But Jill can never leave Ted, because what they have done has bound them together for ever.
He’s made a murderer of her. And because of what they’ve done, they must stick together.
It makes her sick, all of it. How could he have asked for help from that deranged criminal?
Look where it’s got them! Ben is dead, and her best friend knows everything and has turned on her.
This is not the life she imagined, trapped with a man she now thinks of only with contempt.
A life of constant fear, and worry, and financial stress.
And she can’t even turn him in to save herself, because he wouldn’t get the inheritance then, and she’d have nothing.
She’d have to start all over again, probably after years in prison.
By the time she got out she’d be drab and unemployable. Released to a life not worth living.
Because of him, she is going to lose everything. She has already lost her best friend.
‘It was him,’ Ted says, facing her grimly in the front hall, under the glittering chandelier.
‘No kidding,’ she says acidly.