The Attic Room: A psychological thriller - Huber Linda - Страница 17
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In the end she decided to meet him alone, in a coffee bar on Hanover Street near Waverley Station. That would be better than parading up and down outside with Robert making snide remarks and possibly even threats. She and her friends used to go to ‘Saluti a Tutti’ on Saturday nights when they were teenagers, and the proprietor, a fatherly Milanese, would chase them out at midnight with a great deal of Scottish-Italian humour. Today, she was glad to see him still manning the espresso machine. If Robert tried anything on, she’d only have to shout and Guido would come running.
It wasn’t an easy conversation. Robert arrived at the coffee bar while she was standing chatting to Guido, who melted away tactfully. Claire gathered her courage and frowned at Robert, who greeted her with his most charming smile, called her his ‘wee lassie’ for the first time since before she’d been pregnant and would have hugged her, too, if she hadn’t sidestepped. He ordered her favourite cappuccinos for them both and he was calm, witty, articulate – in fact he turned his considerable powers of persuasion on full strength, and Claire realised anew why she’d fallen for him in the first place. This time, however, she knew it was an act, and when he paused to sip his coffee she told him quite bluntly that her mind was made up.
‘We’ve grown apart, Rob,’ she said, determinedly holding his gaze. ‘There’s no way we can start again, and I don’t want to, either. Nina and I are staying here in Edinburgh and that’s that. And you know you’d never get custody. If I reported what you’d done, Paul would be well able to tell the police or social services what happened, and so would Nina. She talks away nineteen to the dozen now. And we know why she didn’t talk as much in Bedford, don’t we?’
How mean she was, blackmailing him like that. If every father who had ever struck his children lost custody, there would be an awful lot of fatherless kids in the country. A sad but true fact, even in these enlightened days. And of course it was equally true for mothers, though she had never lifted a hand to her child. But a lot of people did, and Robert was probably going to tell her all about them right now.
He was staring at her, and she noticed with interest that his face had gone white with a red splodge of colour on both cheeks. She had touched a nerve there. Good.
‘All right, Claire,’ he said at last, his voice tight. ‘If that’s the way you want to play it, then so be it.’
He pulled out his chequebook and started to write. ‘I’ll give you this. It’s a one-off, and it’s a lot more than you’d get if you reported me and went through the official channels, believe me. In return you can get right out of my life. I don’t want to see you or hear from you again, and the same goes for Nina. Got that?’
He slid the cheque across the table and she lifted it. Fifty thousand pounds. Bloody hell, how unbelievable. Fifty thousand pounds. He was selling her his daughter. Did he have that kind of money – and if he did, where the hell had it come from? She swallowed, then managed to speak calmly.
‘Very well. I’ll tell her you had an accident and died, will I, when she asks? And never fear, Mum and Dad don’t know the gory details. I’ll put this in the bank on Monday, Rob, and if it bounces I’ll go straight to the police.’
It was an empty threat, of course. For what would the police say when she told them that her husband had hit her daughter – not marking her, mind you, for Claire had checked the same evening and there wasn’t a hint of a bruise on Nina – and then offered her fifty thousand pounds to get out of his life? She had no proof that Robert had struck the children, just the word of a six-year-old who was upset anyway because his mother was lying downstairs pissed out of her mind.
Claire could see Robert was trying hard to control his temper, and she stood up, smiling into his face. For once she had the upper hand and it was a powerful, intoxicating feeling. A pay-back in a small way for the hurt he had caused her.
‘Goodbye, Rob. Forever.’ Conscious of Guido grinning behind the counter, Claire swept outside, leaving her cappuccino half-finished.
It was the kind of exit that belonged in a trashy film, she thought, laughing out loud as soon as she rounded the corner. Well, that was the end of her connection to the Moore family. Emily was the only one she’d really liked, but Robert had never sought much contact to his aunt.
And poor little Paul… It was a pity she couldn’t help him, but she had to look out for Nina first. Anyway, when Paul told his mother about Rob’s behaviour she would do something about it. Even Jane must rate her child higher than a bottle of gin.
It wasn’t until she was in bed that night, Nina asleep in the too-small cot beside her, that Claire began to wonder if she’d done the right thing. They hadn’t even discussed the divorce. And what reason did Robert have to pay all that money in exchange for her silence – for that was what he’d done. She still didn’t know where on earth his money came from.
A new thought slid into her head. He must be involved in some kind of criminal activity. That was the only explanation; he was doing something illegal, something that would put him in prison if it was found out. And if the police or child welfare people got involved, whatever it was would be discovered. So possibly she was doing wrong too, accepting the money. Had he done something really wicked? Something that would shock her so much that she would go to the police, if she knew what it was? But no. Not charming Robert Moore. It would be embezzlement or fraud or something sordid like that.
Claire lay gazing across the dimness to Nina, whose plump, rosy cheeks looked at least three times as healthy as they had in Bedford, and came to a decision. Nina deserved a good life. Fifty thousand pounds would make the difference between managing comfortably, and scrimping. She would take the money and forget all about Robert Moore. So what if he made his money embezzling other crooks – she knew nothing for sure. If she reported him she would lose the fifty thousand that was going to buy them all a future.
So she would just hold her tongue. It was much the best way for Nina.
Chapter Eleven
Wednesday 19th - Thursday 20th July
The police arrived as they were leaving to go to the ‘Riverside’ event in the country park further down the river. David Mallony stood in the hallway as five other officers clumped past and went straight through to the study.
‘Nina, here’s the warrant to search this house. I’m not sure how long we’ll need, but we’ll leave everything tidy for you.’
‘That’s fine,’ said Nina, aware that Naomi’s eyes were growing rounder by the second at the sight of the police calmly taking possession of the place. ‘Naomi and I each have a caseful of clothes in the front bedroom upstairs, and you’ll see I’ve bagged most of John Moore’s clothes and bedding. Help yourselves to whatever you need. Shall I give you a key to lock up when you’re done?’
She glanced round. Sam had taken Naomi outside to the car.
‘You will include the boxes in the attic?’ she said. ‘I’d hate to come across pornographic photos but I do want to look through them in case there’s anything family-related up there. Oh, and the cleaning service told me they removed a load of shredded paper before I arrived. Heaven knows what was there and please, if you do find anything disgusting, take it right away from here. The thought that I’m related to that man is – stomach-turning.’
‘Don’t worry. We’ll check everything,’ said David Mallony. He gave her a brief salute and turned into the study.
‘What did he say? And why did he –’ Naomi was hunched in the passenger seat of Sam’s car, an aggrieved expression on her face. ‘– not let me stay to hear for myself what the police said? I’m not a baby!’ She glared at Sam.
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