Daughter of Riches (54 page)

‘That sounds a lovely idea. Where do you suggest?'

‘I know just the place. You'd never find it though unless you follow me and then you'd probably get lost in the traffic. Look, leave your car where it is after all, hop in mine, and I'll bring you back for it later.'

Juliet hesitated. Wouldn't Dan think it odd if her car was still outside his house in half an hour's time? But Catherine was opening the passenger door.

‘Jump in. Between us we're blocking the road. And if I get booked for yet another traffic offence I expect I shall lose my licence.'

Juliet smiled. ‘You are the limit!'

Catherine smiled back and the wicked twinkle in her eyes was totally infectious.

‘Yes,' she said mischievously. ‘ I know!'

The Copper Kettle was an old-fashioned tea room with lace table cloths, potted parlour palms and a three-tier trolley laden with tiny delicious French pastries.

‘So, tell me how you are enjoying Jersey,' Catherine said, pouring tea into the bone china cups. ‘I know your grandmother is delighted to have you. She feels she has missed out on so much where you are concerned and of course she is right.' Her gaze was direct – and also shrewd. ‘There's no chance, I suppose, that you might decide to stay on?'

Juliet coloured slightly. It was almost, she thought, as if her aunt had been able to read the innermost hopes and dreams she had as yet scarcely acknowledged, even to herself.

‘It's far too early to be thinking on those lines but Jersey does have its attractions,' she admitted.

‘Ah!'

Juliet laughed, a trifle embarrassed. ‘I expect you were wondering where I had been just now. Well, I have to admit it wasn't the Howard Davis Park.'

‘No.' Catherine's mouth twisted with wry amusement. ‘ Somehow I didn't think it was.'

‘I've met someone. You remember you told me when I first arrived about Grandma's advocate, Dan Deffains? Well, this is his son. He's a writer and he's widowed …' She broke off. Catherine's face was alight, a picture of pleasure and disbelief.

‘Dan Deffains! Really? Oh Juliet!' It was Catherine who was blushing now, her small round face rosy beneath the mop of soft grey curls. ‘I suppose I shouldn't be telling you this, but once upon a time Dan Deffains and I … well, we were rather fond of one another.'

‘Aunt Catherine! You dark horse! Come on, now, you must tell me about it!'

‘Oh Juliet, there's really not much to tell. And I haven't thought about it for years …'

She broke off, remembering the attraction that had sparked between her and Sophia's lawyer twenty years ago. She had come dashing home to Jersey when she had heard of her sister's arrest and practically her first port of call had been to Dan's office. Across the years she pictured him, a slimly-built man with gold-rimmed glasses perched on a hooked nose and hair that receded slightly above each temple. He had been slightly disconcerted that morning, not only because he was horrified at finding himself in the position of having to defend Sophia, whom he had known socially for many years, but also because Catherine had more or less forced her way past his secretary and caught him unawares. But that slightly ruffled air had not detracted from the impression of strength and competence and it had, in Catherine's eyes, only made him more attractive.

Catherine, to the surprise of all the family, had never married. She had had her boyfriends, of course, in her youth, one of them Jeff McCauley, whom she had met when he had come to Jersey for Nicky's funeral. When she had gone to London she had looked him up as she had promised that day in the garden of La Maison Blanche and for a while they had seen a good deal of one another. But Jeff was too footloose to settle down and similarly none of the other young men she met ever seemed to be just right for her. Unwilling to settle for anything but the perfect relationship, always optimistic that her ‘Mr Right' was just around the next corner, Catherine had pressed on with her career and her single life until one day she had woken up and realised it suited her very well and she was unlikely ever to want to give up her independence for anyone.

And then, just when she had least expected ever to fall in love again, she had met Dan.

She had not realised what was about to happen at that first meeting, of course. She had been far too concerned with the terrible thing that had overtaken Sophia and how best she could support her. The realisation that he was the one man for whom she would have given up her job, her life in London and her much-prized independence had come later, nurtured during the many inevitable meetings, and striking her one day with the suddenness of a bombshell.

Catherine had, of course, known Dan when they were young but the age gap between them had been enormous – she had still been a child when he was a young man. Now it had closed to the point where it was non-existent and they were simply a man and a woman working to a common end and finding they shared that comfortable unity of mind and spirit that is the basis of so many enduring relationships.

The trouble was that it was too late for them. Catherine might be free but Dan was not. He was married with a young family, a boy of eleven and a girl two years younger. Although briefly Dan almost succumbed to what might have been the great passion of his life, he loved his wife and children too much to cause them pain and Catherine, who had seen the tragic results of too many shattered families amongst her East End pupils, had known her conscience would not allow her to fight for him. The flame had flared brightly but briefly, illuminating her life for a time with a brilliance she would never forget, but when the trial was over she had returned to London and her old life. For a long while the sense of loss had been almost more than she could bear – to touch such happiness and then deliberately walk away left her in a state of depression that came close to desperation. But Catherine was a survivor. She refused to indulge her pain, burying herself once more in the work she loved and gradually it had begun to hurt less. Over the years Dan Deffains had become a sweet poignant memory.

When she had heard Dan's wife had died it had occurred to her to wonder if perhaps when she retired and returned to Jersey they might have the opportunity to finish what they had begun, but ironically Dan himself had died during her last year in London. Catherine had been sad – very sad – when she heard of it but she was too sensible to cry for long for what might have been. Obviously it had not been meant to be. Catherine tucked Dan away in her closet of memories and made the most of what she had.

Now, however, it all came flooding back; the old excitement quirked deep inside her as she looked at her great-niece and saw only the reincarnation of a dream.

‘What a small world it is! Juliet,' she said softly. ‘How on earth did you come to meet him?'

‘Well …' Juliet hesitated. ‘You remember I told you I would really like to know the truth about Grandma and Uncle Louis? I thought maybe if I spoke to her advocate he would put me in the picture. I looked him up in the phone book and went to see him.'

‘But my dear, Dan has been dead for more than a year.'

‘I didn't know that. You didn't say he was dead. So I asked for Dan Deffains – and met a young man who turned out to be his son – also named Dan. It could have been embarrassing. As it was … well, it turned out rather well.'

‘I see.' Catherine smiled. ‘So you gave up asking questions in favour of romance.'

‘Not exactly. At least, not at first. Dan was interested too. Like you he said he was almost certain his father had believed Grandma innocent and he seemed to think that between us we could get at the truth.'

Catherine shook her head. ‘Oh Juliet, I hoped you would have the good sense to leave well alone. I did warn you.'

‘I know you did. And I must say I was beginning to think you were right. I asked Paul some questions about Louis and really stirred up a hornet's nest. I thought Viv was going to have a fit she was so angry.'

‘I'm not surprised. She hated Louis. He was undermining Paul's position, you see, making it quite untenable.'

‘Wasn't Paul senior to Louis in the company?'

‘Senior in experience, yes, but he had no say in the running of it. Bernard had bought out his share years earlier, just as he bought out mine. I spent what I got on a nice little flat and a car, and I invested enough to give me a comfortable income for the rest of my life. Paul, I am afraid, was not so wise.'

‘But surely your share should have been worth a great deal more than that?' Juliet said, a little shocked.

Catherine smiled ruefully. ‘In those days, no. Oh, I'd have been a wealthy woman if I hadn't sold out when I did, it's true, but equally Bernard might not have worked so hard if the whole shooting match hadn't been his and Langlois Hotels might not be what they are today. I don't bear any grudges. I have all I want to live on – I don't know that I'd want more – it certainly hasn't bought Sophia happiness. But Paul and Viv are different. Viv was used to money – her parents were seriously rich at one time, until her father lost it all on the stock market. So it was the supreme irony that she married Paul – another gambler in his own way.'

‘Paul?' Juliet echoed, remembering the cash book she had found in the attic at La Grange.

‘Oh my dear, yes. In his heyday Paul would gamble on anything that moved. His share of the money Bernard parted with to buy him out went that way – in fact I think he may already have been heavily in debt and that is why he didn't take much persuading to sell. I'm sure it must have been that – after all, he continued to work for the company. For me it was quite different – I was in London, I had no interest in it really. Anyway, to get back to Paul. He was always a gambler and in later years Louis encouraged him, I'm afraid. They spent a good deal of time in one another's company when Louis was in Jersey and sometimes they flew off together on one of their wild weekends. But this mateyness didn't do Paul any good when it came to business. Louis had the upper hand and he made the most of it.'

‘I see.' Juliet was very thankful she had a different line of enquiry to pursue regarding Louis's death. There was no doubt about it, what with the gambling debts she had uncovered and the position Louis had placed him in within the company Paul would have made a prime suspect! she thought.

‘Have you ever met anyone called Frank de Val?' she asked aloud.

Catherine looked genuinely puzzled. ‘Frank de Val. I know the name. Well, it's an old Jersey one, so I suppose I would. Frank de Val. Who is he?'

‘He used to be a senator in the Island Parliament.'

‘The States.'

‘Yes.' Juliet lowered her voice. ‘ I think he may have been involved in Louis's death.'

‘A senator? Oh no, I don't think so.'

‘Why not?'

‘My dear, I can tell you don't know senators and justices de greffe. They're a stuffy bunch. They might bore you to death of course,' she added with a wicked twinkle.

Juliet pushed her cup to one side, leaning forward on the table on her elbows.

‘This one was being blackmailed by Louis.'

‘Blackmailed? Are you sure? Goodness me, how very melodramatic!'

‘But it would be a marvellous motive for wanting Louis dead, wouldn't it?'

‘Oh my dear!' Catherine shook her head. ‘I do wish you'd take my advice and stop all this nonsense. I don't think you understand the harm you may be doing.'

‘By trying to prove Grandma's innocence?'

‘By raking up a whole lot of things that are best left alone. I don't know how to make you understand but I'm quite sure your parents would tell you the same if they were here.'

‘I expect they would. They never told me anything about what happened at all, remember.'

‘No, and they may well have had their reasons. Think about that, Juliet.'

Quite unaccountably Juliet shivered. What the hell was this? Why was everyone so determined to keep the subject a closed book even when she was suggesting a totally new theory which had no unpleasant implications for the family? Only Louis came out of it in a bad light and that hardly mattered any more.

‘This is all a novelty to you at the moment, Juliet,' Catherine went on. ‘Please remember it is no novelty to us. We want to forget what happened. And I think you would be wise to do the same.' Her voice was sharper than Juliet had ever before heard it, the voice of a teacher controlling a class of unruly seven-year-olds. ‘I'm very glad you've met Dan Deffains' son. I would be more happy than you could possibly know to see you fall in love with him. But don't let him lead you down this path, please.'

Juliet wrinkled her nose, puzzled. ‘He's not leading me anywhere.'

‘That's all right then. And now,' Catherine said with her wonderful capacity for changing the subject, ‘shall we ask for another of those delicious pastries? Or do you think it is time I started considering my figure?'

Dan tapped a final sentence into his word processor, checked it on the screen and sat back, rubbing his eyes. He had worked too long, not even stopping to eat. Now he was hungry and his eyes ached but it had been, in his opinion, well worth while. Tomorrow he had an appointment with Centenier John Germaine and he wanted to be well prepared for it. His father and the centenier had been good friends, he knew, despite the fact that they had been on opposing sides of the courtroom on more than one occasion. But he could not rely on that for goodwill any more than he could rely on their mutual respect. It was vitally important that he correlate all the bits of information he had so far gathered so that he could judge how best to approach the centenier. Now a simple print out would give him the main points in one concise list – might even trigger his brain into spotting some new connection that had escaped him before.

Dan put the word processor into print mode and sat back, stretching his arms above his head. He felt good, pleased with himself from almost any angle you cared to name. The investigation into the Langlois case was progressing and the same antennae that had made him a good policeman and which now monitored his journalistic progress told him that things were beginning to move and there was much more just waiting to be uncovered. On the personal front too things were looking definitely promising. Only yesterday it had looked as if Juliet was a lost cause, now, suddenly it was very much all systems go again, and the knowledge gave his spirits the sort of lift he had not expected to experience ever again.