Jacqui’s Nemesis

CHAPTER 3

Jacqui was due at the solicitor’s office for the reading of the will and while waiting for Jackson to bring the car to the front door she checked her purse for the umpteenth time. Although she had insisted on driving herself, Jackson refused point blank to let her do so. With Lowe and Blair backing him up Jacqui had no other option but to give in.

Jackson pulled up in front of Jacqui and held the door for her.  Although Jacqui had a good idea of the contents of her father’s will, she was still more than a little nervous.  Bill was already seated at the solicitor’s desk when Jacqui and Jackson arrived.  This was to be expected, but Jacqui was surprised to see Uncle Barry there.

After going through the required pleasantries and condolences the solicitor placed his glasses on his nose and opened the thick file in front of him.

Her father dealt with the business first and as Jacqui already knew, he had left the firm in equal shares to Jacqui and Bill. A small flat in the city was left to Jackson with the condition that he remains in the cottage on the property for as long as he is still employed by the family.  Small amounts of cash were left to other staff members. The remainder of the estate was left in its entirety to Jacqui, their daughter and only child. Nothing in the will came as any surprise to Jacqui and Bill, but it was soon obvious to all in the room that it did come as a surprise to Barry.

“What? Is that all? Are you sure? The bastard…I could kill him if he was not already dead!” Barry jumped out of his chair with such force that it pushed backwards and knocked into the wall.

This act of violence and anger shocked the rest of the attendees out of their slumber, and all turned to look at Barry. Barry was pacing up and down, swearing under his breath.

“Uncle Barry…I do not understand… what did you expect? I am his only child and Bill had been his friend and partner for years? If anything, you are no more than a distant relative, who, after an argument with my father, had not even been a regular visitor to our home…”

“Your father owes me…”  Barry was red in the face and small amounts spittle were forming in the corners of his mouth.  Yes, it would be fair to say that Barry was so angry that he was foaming at the mouth.

“Owes you what Uncle Barry?”

“Everything…he owes me everything.”

“What do you mean by that Uncle Barry?”

“He owes me for everything he had.  If it was not for me your father would have been a pauper…unemployable… He promised me…he said he’ll take care of me one day, just like I took care of him…”

“What do you mean by that Uncle Barry, what does my father owe you?”

“I promised… I promised that I’ll never tell anyone… especially not his daughter.”

“Uncle Barry, my father is dead, surely if it is important, we need to know.  My father was an honourable man and if he truly did owe you something I am sure that he would want me and Bill to set things right…”

“I need to think about this…” Without another word Barry left the office slamming the door behind him.

A stunned silence followed his exit.

“Bill, do you have any idea what this was all about?” Jacqui turned to Bill.

“No Jacqui, I don’t. As far as I know your father did not keep any secrets from me. I mean, he even told me about the few odd arguments he had with your mother… he always said I was like his priest and if he did not confess to me he would go to hell…”

“It just does not make any sense… my father and Uncle Barry had a falling out about something years ago and we never saw him and his family again, not until the funeral…”

“Has you father ever told you what the argument was about?”

“No. I even remember my mother asking him about it and he just said that it was nothing.  Uncle Bill is a bit of a gambler and loudmouth and for years my father dreaded their annual visit.  We assumed that it was something benign that set my father off after years of putting up with Uncle Barry’s behaviour.”

Bill invited Jacqui and Jackson to join him for an early lunch and asked whether Jacqui felt ready to go to the office in the afternoon. After lunch Jackson went back to the estate and Jacqui left with Bill for the office.

Walking into the office for the first time after the murders Jacqui found it hard to keep herself from rushing into her father’s office, like she did each time after having taken a client out to a house.  Even after working in the firm for almost three years, Jacqui was as enthusiastic about each house she listed and each client she took out as she was when she had just started.  Her father enjoyed her enthusiasm and his advice had resulted in Jacqui raking in one sale after the other.  Only William, who was her senior by two years and who had joined the firm a year before Jacqui, did slightly better than her. There was an air of healthy competition between the two of them. Sylvia, Charli and Brendan, the other agents had joined the fracas by running bets on who was to have the highest sales figure by the end of each year, William, or Jacqui. Only a few months ago, Sylvia won the pool, when William, after a nasty break-up with his girlfriend of five years, threw himself into his work and left Jacqui trailing behind in her figures. Sylvia, a woman in her early fifties, took William to a fancy restaurant to thank him for his hard work which resulted in her windfall.

As Jacqui stood in the middle of the open plan office, where the agents had their desks, she saw the others looking at her with sympathy. She felt uncomfortable, but most of all, seeing her father’s empty office in darkness, like the mouth of a grisly, empty, cave, pained her almost more than she could bear.  

Jacqui had nothing left to do but sit down at her desk. Her tray was overflowing with messages and with a sigh she started flipping through the pieces of paper. Most of the messages were from clients who had read about her parents’ death in the local paper and who made a courtesy call to her office to convey their condolences. A few were from clients about pending deals, but what perplexed her the most were several messages from the same person, Brian Warner.  All the messages were marked as urgent, and the calls had started a few days after her parents’ murder. Jacqui did not know a Brian Warner and could not recall a client by that name. The number on the slip of paper looked longer than any of the local numbers she dialed regularly, and she wondered whether it could possibly be a foreign number. With a frown on her face, she dialed the number of the reception desk and asked the receptionist about the mysterious caller.

“No Jacqui, he left no message other than to say that he wanted you to call him as soon as you got back to the office. He had a slight accent, but other than that there is nothing to tell…”

“Thank you, Valerie. I’ll call the man and hopefully solve the mystery…”

Concentrating on dialing the long number correctly, Jacqui felt her palms sweating. Somehow, she knew that this was not a business call.

The voice on the other side was deep yet still youthful enough for Jacqui to judge that it was a man in his late twenties.

“Good day, Brian speaking…”

“This is Jacqui Bruckner, I had a number of messages from you…”

Thank you for calling Miss… Jacqui… I apologize for asking you to call such a long distance and I’ll keep our conversation short.  I am flying into London from Johannesburg on Wednesday and need to make an appointment to see you…it is a personal matter, and it is urgent that I speak to you.”

“A personal matter? I do not know you Mr Warner, and am quite sure that we have not met before, what possible personal business could we have to discuss?”

“Jacqui, please trust me, it is not something we should discuss over the phone.  I would really appreciate you meeting me on Wednesday.  My flight lands at 9 am. You name the place and I am sure I could meet you by 10:30.”

“We could meet at my office.”

“I would prefer something more private, perhaps a restaurant close to your office?”

“Fine. Make it Bruno’s just off Piccadilly...”

“Thank you, Jacqui. I really appreciate you trusting me. I am aware of your circumstances and know that you must be going through a difficult time.  I am terribly sorry about your parents…I shall see you on Wednesday then…”

The mention of her parents made Jacqui regret her impulse to agree to a meeting.  The police were no closer to a solution or possible explanation for her parents’ murder than they were on the day it occurred, it would be foolish of her to meet with a stranger away from her office.

Jacqui did not have much time to ponder as the phone on her desk started ringing.  It was Detective Lowe.

“Miss Bruckner, I apologize for disturbing you at work, but I was wondering whether we could meet later this afternoon.  I could send a car for you…I think it would be better for us to meet in my office, less interference…”

Jacqui agreed to meet with Lowe and told him that she would be ready at three pm. Getting up to tell Bill that she was leaving for the police station, she wondered whether she should also tell him about the man from South Africa.  Watching Bill bent over his desk and looking unusually pale she decided not to add to his stress and worry him with what could turn out to be a frivolous matter.  Once she had told him about going to see Lowe Bill asked whether she needed him to pick her up and take her home afterwards, but she declined, saying she was sure that Lowe would see her home safely.

She collected her bag from her desk and made a detour to the cloakroom. As she was washing her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror. She had fastened her dark hair in a ponytail that morning and did not bother much with her make-up.  The little she had applied had worn off and the shadows under her eyes were prominent reminders of the many sleepless nights she had. Jacqui made a half-hearted attempt at covering up the blemishes and applied some lipstick. Her dark blue eyes, rimmed by long dark lashes were always her most striking feature. Her father always said she had violet eyes like Elizabeth Taylor, but the eyes starting back at her from the mirror were swollen and red rimmed.  Scratching in her bag she found her dark glasses and covered her eyes.

Lowe arrived himself and escorted Jacqui to his car. They drove to his office in silence.

He offered Jacqui a chair and coffee which he dispensed from a rather elaborate machine standing on a side table.

“I cannot function or think without a decent cup of coffee, and I am afraid the coffee in our rec room cannot be classified as decent, not by any stretch of the imagination...”

Jacqui accepted the mug he offered her and helped herself to two heaped spoons of sugar.

“Jacqui, I know this will be extremely difficult for you, but it needs to be done. I had waited as long as I could… I am sorry…” Lowe took a gulp of his coffee before continuing.

“I had Bill in here yesterday and my other detectives had been to see your fathers’ accountants and solicitor.  Bill appears to be unaware of any problems your father might have had in his business or private life and from what we could see at the accountants your father’s business was run in an exemplary manner, everything seems to be managed impeccably. That leaves us with very little to work with. It was obviously not a burglary as nothing is missing from the house. Jacqui, you worked with your father, and you lived in the same house, is there anything or anybody you can think have who had an issue of any kind with your parents?”

“Detective, I have done nothing but think these last few days and I can truly say that I cannot think of anything or anybody. My father had the odd argument with the auto mechanic, became frustrated with a clerk at his bank a while ago, but nothing serious enough to warrant anybody wanting to kill him, of that I can assure you.” 

“Jacqui, as hard as it is for you to accept, I am sorry to tell you that somebody was indeed angry enough, or maybe even hated your parents enough, to want to kill them.  In my profession I had come across people killing others over a simple matter such as an incorrect order at a take-away joint… there may be something, which may seem completely insignificant to you, something so benign that it may not seem worth mentioning, but Jacqui we need to look at everything. Did anything strange happen before or after your parents’ murder? Anything out of the ordinary? Anything at all?”

“No, not really… a small family matter… my uncle Barry arrived at the reading of the will and lost it a little when he found that my father did not leave him anything, he said something about a promise that my father made him and something my father owed him.  I never expected my father to leave anything to Barry, they were not friendly, and Barry is not exactly destitute. Apparently, Barry had been harbouring a family secret and my father was going to reward him for keeping the secret. If you ask me, it is all in Barry’s mind.  Whatever it is or was, Barry could not kill a fly, he is a loudmouth but somewhat of a coward. Then there was the phone call today…”

“Which call? What happened Jacqui?”

“There were a number of messages from a man called Brian Warner when I arrived at the office. I telephoned him and found that he is a foreigner, a South African.  He will be in London on Wednesday and wants to meet with me. I wanted to set up a meeting at the office, but he said that he wanted to see me about a personal matter which he wanted to discuss in private.  I was apprehensive at first, but when he said that I could name the venue, a restaurant close to my office I relaxed a little…”

“Jacqui, do you know this Warner? Did he give you any hint as to what the meeting would be about?”

“No, nothing.  I asked, but he said that it was something he wanted to discuss with me face to face. He knows about my parents’ murder and apologized for intruding during such a difficult time in my life.  I got the impression that whatever it is he needs to discuss with me is important. Perhaps it would shed some light on what happened.”

“I cannot allow you to meet with a stranger on your own Jacqui. Even if he had nothing to do with the murder, we should bear in mind that when a rather prominent person like your father dies and it makes the news, like it did, it is quite possible that all kinds of sick people will try to take advantage of the situation.”

“He sounded quite normal, kind and well mannered…”

“Most serial killers were normal family men on the surface…”

“I do not think he would want anyone else at the meeting, he sounded a little insecure and whatever the matter is that he wants to discuss I get the feeling that it is of great importance…”

“Then I’ll put a detail on you… Blair and one of my other officers can pose as customers at the restaurant…”

“Although that sounds like something out of a spy movie, I think I’ll feel better knowing that there is someone watching my back.”

“It will be arranged then.” Lowe picked up the phone on his desk and asked Blair to come his office. Lowe explained the situation to Blair, and it was quickly arranged that the younger man and another detective will keep an eye on Jacqui the day of the proposed meeting. 

Jacqui and Lowe talked for a while longer before he asked Blair to drive her home.

Detective Blair was a good thirty years younger than Lowe. He tried making small talk as he drove her home but must have noticed that Jacqui was not in the mood for pleasantries and the rest of the drive was done in silence.

Jacqui tried to dissect her discussion with Lowe, surely there is something, something she may have heard or seen, and which may not have looked or sounded sinister at the time.  How could she have lived with her parents for twenty-four years and yet be so ignorant about their lives? Lately, however, her parents were so busy with work and travelling arrangements and she with her work, friends and activities, that they saw one another during breakfast over weekends and on the odd occasion at dinner. The conversations were mostly about business or other superficial things.

Jacqui recognised that Detective Blair was trying to be kind and nice by making general conversation. She rather liked the man. He appeared to be gentler and more sympathetic than his superior officer, but perhaps it was because he had not been doing the job as long as the older man has.   Jacqui thought that Blair was rather attractive, in a rugged sort of way. Whereas Lowe always had her on edge, Jacqui felt Blair’s presence to be almost comforting.

After Blair had left Jacqui wandered through the house. The forensic team had most of their things and personnel cleared out and Jackson had a cleaning crew called in.  Her father’s blood had however stained the grooves between the tiles and no amount of scrubbing would rub away the reddish hue. Jackson had tried to be diplomatic about it, but Jacqui could not bear to listen to the gruesome details and told him to have the tiles lifted and removed. He asked whether he could take her to the city to choose new tiles, but Jacqui felt sick at the thought of going shopping so soon after her parents’ death and told him to take Anna. Walking towards her apartment she noticed that even the walls had been scrubbed in her absence. The smell of disinfectant burned her nose and throat and she thought how insignificant this discomfort was compared to the hurt she carried in her heart. Jacqui did not have the heart to visit her parents’ bedroom yet but looking up she could see that there were buckets of paint and ladders stacked on the landing against the wall next to her parents’ bedroom door. She was aware that the forensic team had carted away the linen and other items from the bedroom, but she did not care and did not ask about other damage to the room.  No earthly goods could ever equal the damage done to her soul.

“Jacqui…” Anna had come up behind her and Jacqui turned to face the woman.

“I had set some dinner things for you in the kitchen, you can come eat now…”

Since her parents’ passing Jacqui did not go out for meals, nor did she want to eat her meals alone in the dining room. Anna had been bringing her food to her suite, but today it was clear to her that Anna was not going to be persuaded to do so again.

“I am not hungry Anna…”

“You have to eat Jacqui…”

“Only if you stay and eat with me…” Jacqui realized that she sounded like a spoilt child and was about to apologise to Anna when Anna smiled and agreed.

“I am used to cooking for a few people thus I admit that I had cooked a little too much food for one person, perhaps we could ask Jackson to join us?”

“That would be fine Anna, thank you.”

Watching the young woman rushing back to the kitchen Jacqui realized how little she knew about Anna. A few years back her parents decided to take more holidays, which included traveling more regularly for a week, two or three at a time. Jacqui’s mother appointed Anna and all Jacqui knew about her was that she had a diploma from a culinary school and had just completed a stint as an intern in housekeeping at a posh hotel. Jacqui’s mother said that it would leave her more relaxed knowing that there was someone to make sure that Jacqui ate properly and that it would be more of a pleasure coming home to a clean and well managed house. Even though her mother’s plans for traveling and vacationing more did not work as planned, Anna stayed and had become a valued member of the household.  As far as Jacqui knew, Anna was still single and lived in the city. She guessed that Anna was, more or less, her age, at the most a year or two older. Anna had an almost elfin look about her; her short dark hair and big eyes did not make her a beauty in the traditional sense, but certainly pretty enough to warrant a second look from men. Jacqui wondered about Anna’s sudden interest in Jackson.

Jackson had been with them for almost ten years. Her father appointed him soon after he had purchased the property. All she knew about him was that he had provided garden services for some of the rental properties on their books when her father met him. He had the typical look of someone who spent most of his time outdoors and although Jacqui judged him to be in his mid to late thirties, his tanned skin and wiry physique made it difficult to judge his age. Her father may have known more about him, but Jacqui had never heard him mention family and as it appeared that he was always around, she guessed that he did not have a roaring social life either.

Jackson and Anna were already seated at the small breakfast table in the kitchen when Jacqui walked in. The meal passed pleasantly enough with general small talk going around the table. With the meal nearly over Jackson touched on the subject of the renovations.

“Anna and I went on the internet and chose some tiles for the corridor. It is like the ones which were there before, just lighter. I always though the corridor was a bit dark…”

“I am sure it will look great, thank you Jackson.”

“I need your input on work to be done in the main bedroom though. We finished the painting today…as you know, we had to remove the carpet…and I got rid of the bed once the police were done with their work. You…uh, we…will have to choose a new carpet…or we could tile the room…I do not know what you want…” Jackson was obviously uncomfortable.

Jacqui felt unshed tears stinging her eyelids but swallowed hard and looked at Jackson.

“I am sorry Jackson, I cannot think about choosing carpets and such things just yet. I’ll never be able to use the room myself thus it does not matter to me what you guys choose, but perhaps it would be wise to tile the room… as for furniture…take Anna, she has excellent taste, having worked in hotels…I’ll be grateful and I am sure that in a while I’ll be able to make better decisions, just not yet Jackson.”

“I understand Jacqui, I’ll take Anna into the city tomorrow.”

“I hope you do not mind doing this Anna…” Jacqui turned to Anna.

“Not at all Jacqui, although sad that we must do this, I really love doing it. It was a close tie between becoming an interior decorator and a chef… finally I realized that it would be easier finding a job as a chef than an interior decorator.”

Jacqui thanked Anna for the meal and excused herself.

Back in her suite she showered and got into bed. It was still early but she had no interest in watching television or reading, thus she turned on her side and closed her eyes. Like every night since the murders, sleep would not come, and she found herself mulling over the mystery of her parents murders and finally wondering about the man she spoke to earlier today. She still could not remember hearing his name before and wondered what personal business he could have with her. Perhaps she should telephone Uncle Barry in the morning and ask him whether he had heard the name before.

Finally, in the early hours of the morning she fell asleep and slept a dreamless sleep.