The Carlswick Affair (The Carlswick Mysteries Book 1) Read online

  Saying her goodbyes, she went and sat on a bench in the sun scanning the report – the claims were explosive, but James was right, the Knoxs had been completed exonerated. Reading it with 21st century sensibilities, it did just seem like hysteria. Interestingly though, a lot of the names mentioned in Sophie’s diary, were in the report. So someone other than Sophie and David had been taking note of who was visiting Knox Manor too. There were no mentions in Sophie’s diary that she had been talking to the officials. In fact she had seemed shocked by the investigation.

  Stephanie continued to ponder the painting in the library and what to do about it. She was really no further ahead in discovering anything more about it or how it came to be there. It would only make the feud between her family and the Knox family worse if she started throwing around unsubstantiated allegations and probably just make her look like an idiot in the process. What to do?

  The week passed slowly. Between working at the café, skyping Toby, who had excitedly told her that they were flying over to have Christmas with her, and devouring the history pre-reading that she had been set, Stephanie managed to keep a low profile. She had downloaded Robert Edsel’s Monuments Men to her iPad and was learning more about the extent of the Nazi’s looting during the war.

  James continued to outwardly ignore her, although she could have sworn that he watched her carefully whenever he was at the café. She assumed that he hadn’t discovered her extracurricular activities. She was sure that he would have confronted her if he had. Whatever – I won’t give him the satisfaction of even acknowledging him, she decided.

  I am completely off guys, she told herself, especially those of the musical variety.

  Andy called Stephanie early on Thursday morning to see if she could work during the day, as the band was rehearsing at the pub, for an upcoming musical festival.

  It was a long day. Stephanie was beginning to rue the fact that she had agreed to work quite so much, as the sun beat down outside. There was quite a crowd across the road at the pub, obviously gathering for the free live music.

  Stephanie breathed a sigh of relief when Andy arrived at 4pm to help her close up. She said goodbye as he locked the door behind her and wandered across the road to the pub car park, where she had parked the Fiat that morning. As she approached, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up – something was amiss. She slowed and walked cautiously towards her car. She gasped as she saw that her windscreen was smashed and a brick which was lying on the driver’s seat amidst shards of glass. Written in black letters on the brick were the words:

  You may look like her, but don’t end up like your Aunt

  Chapter 16

  Stephanie jumped back as if stung. She quickly looked around her. There were a few people milling around, but no one appeared to be taking any notice of her. She stood rooted to the spot, unsure what to do.

  “Hey Steph,” a voice called. Matt pulled his car over to the curb, and then jumped out, after seeing the distraught look on her face. “Are you ….” He broke off and stared at her smashed windscreen. “Steph, what happened?”

  She shrugged, a sick feeling gripping her.

  He beckoned to the bar manager, who was clearing tables in front of the pub. He came over and looked at the damage, horrified. He hurried away wordlessly to call the police. Michael appeared from somewhere and together they helped her pick up a few larger pieces of broken glass from around the car and sit them in a pile at the curb.

  He leaned in the window and read the words on the brick, and turned, looking at Stephanie with one eyebrow raised. She glanced at Matt, who was checking under the car for any glass, and shook her head at Michael, silently asking him not to say anything.

  Flashing lights signalled the arrival of a police car.

  “What’s happened here?” the constable asked stepping out and putting his hat on.

  He looked into Stephanie’s car and carefully opened the door. More glass tinkled to the ground. He lifted the brick out, reading the words as he did.

  “What happened to your Aunt, Miss?” he asked.

  “Stephanie,” she corrected. “I think it means my great aunt – she was killed in a car accident many years ago, although there’s some debate about whether it was an accident or not,” she said.

  A crowd had now gathered, attracted by the flashing lights of the police car. She saw James push through and glare at her as he overheard the conversation. She looked away. What was he still doing here? Rehearsal had finished an hour ago. This was undoubtedly the work of his family. They all seemed to think she looked like her aunt. A sudden thought hit her, maybe he had done it – he would have had time, wouldn’t he? She shivered uncomfortably, fingers of fear crawling up her back.

  She glanced nervously in his direction, and watched as he turned and walked away.

  “Do you have any idea who might have done this?” the police officer asked.

  Stephanie shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. I am trying so hard to fit in here, I don’t need this, she thought miserably.

  The police officer made a phone call and arranged to have Stephanie’s car taken to the local garage to have the windscreen repaired. He gave Michael a broom and dustpan from the boot of the police car and instructed him to sweep up the remaining broken glass while he bagged the brick as evidence.

  “This is probably just a prank, albeit a nasty one,” he said quietly. “But I will of course make note of it and if you think of anything else, call me.” He handed her a business card with the local police station’s contact details. “Now Stephanie would you like a lift home or is there someone who can drive you?”

  “I will,” said Matthew taking her bag. “I couldn’t help but overhear you talking to the cop - is this something to do with Knox?” he asked. Michael glanced sharply at Stephanie.

  “I don’t know, Matt,” she answered simply.

  “Leave it with me,” he muttered starting his car.

  Stephanie sat looking out the window as Matt drove her home. Why would someone send me a warning like that? she wondered. Maybe it was James. Maybe he does know that I am still looking into what happened back then and decided that since his verbal warnings weren’t enough to stop me, he would try to frighten me. He would have had time too; he was at the pub all day. She shuddered at the thought. She was beginning to think that James Knox wasn’t all he appeared to be on the surface.

  Later that evening, Stephanie opened the bulging file on her desk and sorted through to find the newspaper report of her aunt’s accident. There were a couple of grainy, yellowing photos of the accident site that she’d printed from an old newspaper on the internet. There was no suggestion in the article that it had been anything other than an unfortunate accident. Stephanie looked hard at the photos. The passenger side of the car was all bashed in, although the newspaper said it was the driver’s side that hit the tree. Still, maybe the car had rolled. The news report didn’t say. It was too long ago to make any sense of the limited information there was. What a shame Sophie’s brother David hadn’t left any notes on his investigation.

  Stephanie started reviewing the websites that Michael had identified, focussing on the ones that had any reference to Van Gogh. Some were fascinating reading, others just drew blanks. None shed any further light on the Knox’s painting.

  Frustrated, she settled down on the sofa with her laptop and her iPod – might be a good time to download some new tunes. Despite her determination that she had moved on, it still hurt every time she listened to The Fury, so best delete them.

  She had just hooked up to iTunes when her mobile phone rang. She picked it up and saw from the caller ID that it was her friend Anna.

  “Hi Steph. Are you ok? I hear that you had a little car trouble today,” Anna said.

  “Who have you been talking to?” Stephanie replied surprised.

  “Facebook,” Anna said.

  Stephanie groaned.

  “Who did it?” Anna asked.

  “I’m not really sur
e, but I think it’s part of a much larger story,” Stephanie replied.

  “Really? Why don’t you come up here for a few days and you can tell me all about it then? Please? You haven’t been back to London since you arrived. What’s keeping you in the country? Is it that hot guitarist?” Anna teased.

  “Huh, that arrogant bastard,” Stephanie said.

  “Stephanie Cooper! That’s so not like you. What’s going on?” Anna asked, surprised.

  “Like I said, long story. Tell you what, I’d love to come and stay for the weekend,” Stephanie said, making an immediate decision. They arranged that she would catch the train up to London the next morning.

  She had just clicked her mobile phone off when it chimed with a text from Sam. He’d obviously been on Facebook, too.

  You ok?

  I’m fine

  Wanna get away for the weekend?

  No thx. Got plans.

  See you soon?

  Sure, Stephanie keyed the text and closed her phone, throwing it on the sofa beside her. She rubbed her temples. A weekend with Anna, away from car trouble, boy trouble and mysterious paintings is just what I need.

  Chapter 17

  The train pulled in to London’s Charing Cross Station at 9:50 the next morning. Stephanie stepped off lifting her small wheelie suitcase onto the platform. Somehow, despite her love of clothes, and shoes in particular, she had learned the art of packing lightly - probably from the years of sitting on her mother’s bed watching her pack as little as possible for their trips to England. She set the case down on the platform, extended the handle and walked away from the train towards the station, pulling it along behind her.

  Charing Cross station was still crowded at this time on a Friday morning. Stephanie made her way towards Embankment and onto the eastbound Circle line platform.

  She wrinkled her nose at the smell – a damp metallic scent mixed with sweat and perfume. Mmm – funny how I have gotten used to the fresh country air after only a few weeks, she thought. I never used to find this smell so offensive.

  Her father’s office was located near Tower Hill. The tube ride took around fifteen minutes – she was lucky enough to get a seat and popped her iPod on and zoned out for the journey.

  The offices of Cooper, Reynold and Jones were in a modern low rise glass and concrete building on a busy corner. The area was a mixture of old and new London. A quaint old pub was on the opposite corner, next to a thirty story steel and glass structure that was home to an investment bank.

  Stephanie wheeled her suitcase up the ramp entrance of the building and walked through the revolving glass door and into the sleek air conditioned foyer. The atmosphere was one of quiet prosperity. The walls of the reception area were hung with expensive looking modern art and pots containing tall indoor trees with shiny leaves were dotted around here and there. To one side was a small café with a coffee machine whizzing away quietly and the occasional clink of china as cups and plates were laid out. Comfortable chairs were clustered on both sides of the reception area and stacks of unread glossy magazines adorned the low coffee tables.

  In the centre, a large reception desk dominated, attended by three attractive young women all wearing telephone headsets. As Stephanie approached the desk, one of them looked up and smiled.

  “Can I help you?” she said.

  She must be new, Stephanie thought, she doesn’t know me.

  “Yes I’m here to see Max Cooper, please,” Stephanie replied pleasantly.

  The receptionist looked her up and down. Stephanie was suddenly conscious that her black skinny jeans tucked into burgundy boots with stiletto heels, was well outside the corporate mould, despite the tailored red jacket and layers of necklaces. She grinned to herself.

  “Is he expecting you?” the young woman asked.

  “No, but I’m happy to wait if he’s not free,” Stephanie replied.

  “Mr Cooper sees people by appointment only,” the receptionist said politely, as she clicked at the keyboard in front of her searching. “He has an opening next week.”

  “He will see me,” Stephanie paused, enjoying herself. “I’m his daughter.”

  The receptionist smiled. “Yes, of course, Miss Cooper. I will see if he is free.” She quickly tapped on her keyboard and spoke into her headset.

  Stephanie leaned back and looked around the reception area. She groaned inwardly. There was Sam, leaning against the counter of the coffee shop, takeout in hand, laughing with two smartly dressed women. There was no avoiding him. Their eyes met at the same time. Sam excused himself and strode straight over.

  “Stephanie,” he said leaning over and kissing her cheek.

  “Hi,” she replied, her inbred manners taking over, despite the fact that she was still really annoyed at him over the events of the previous weekend.

  “His current meeting is about to finish, so you can go straight on up,” the receptionist interrupted them.

  Stephanie smiled at her. “Thanks.”

  She took the handle of her bag and started walking towards the bank of lifts hidden behind the reception desk by a partition. Sam fell into step beside her.

  “I didn’t think I would see you this soon,” he said enthusiastically.

  “Me neither,” she agreed. “I’m spending the weekend with Anna, so thought I’d take the opportunity to have lunch with Dad.” Why am I feeling the need to explain myself to him?

  A bell announced the arrival of the lift. They waited for three people to get out, before Sam held his arm across the door allowing her to get in.

  “Thanks,” she murmured. The silence was awkward as they rode the elevator to the 12th floor.

  “Here we are,” Sam said brightly as the lift stopped. “Ah, Steph you wouldn’t have time to have dinner with me while you are here. I feel bad for what happened last weekend and I’d like to make that up to you.”

  “No sorry. I’m completely booked,” she smiled apologetically at him.

  “I could join you and Anna – it would be great to see her again,” Sam suggested, his tone light.

  “Girls weekend – you know,” Stephanie said making an excuse.

  “Ok,” Sam said reluctantly. “But I’d like to catch up with you again soon.”

  “Ok,” she stepped out of the lift and let the doors close on Sam.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. That was a lucky escape, she thought. She hadn’t forgotten his part in her bust up with James. Still it was unlike Sam to be so persistent; he used to leave it to her to do the chasing. But maybe that was because he was used to her just saying yes, whenever he asked her out. And surprisingly, she really didn’t want to. After all the months of wanting him back, it dawned on her that she now suddenly didn’t. She felt a weight lift off her as she walked away from the lifts.

  The partner’s floor was even more luxuriously decorated than the rest of the building. It was a hive of activity with people hurrying about with folders in their arms, telephones ringing and various meetings going on in the glass fronted meeting rooms.

  She had to walk the length of the floor to get to her father’s corner office. She stopped just short of the corner as she overheard loud voices coming from the partially open door.

  “We have left this too long already,” a heavily accented male voice said somewhat impatiently.

  “Yet we must exercise caution – if he gets wind of this, you can guarantee it will disappear or the deal will be called off,” Max Cooper’s steady clipped voice replied.

  Stephanie hesitated; she didn’t want to interrupt one of her father’s meetings. She was about to go and wait by the lifts, when she heard the accented voice ask;

  “What about your daughter – have you stopped her involvement?”

  Stephanie took a sharp intake of breath and stepped backwards so that she was hidden behind a bookshelf. Daughter? What?

  “Oh, yes. She was merely friendly with the youngest son, but that’s been taken care of,” her father said.

  “Good. You don�
��t want her anywhere near the location when we drop in,” the foreign voice said.

  What location? Stephanie was puzzled. I am missing something.

  “Now, the rest of the team fly in tomorrow morning. We will come directly here at noon for a strategy meeting,” the man said.

  Stephanie could hear the creak of furniture as the two men stood up. She looked around wildly and saw the door to the ladies toilets to her left. She quickly slipped inside holding the door slightly ajar, so that she could see whoever it was who left her father’s office.

  The two men paused at the door to the office and shook hands.

  “Thanks Max. It will be good to finally get resolution on this one,” the other man said as he stepped into view.

  He was well over 6 feet tall, with olive skin and short cropped dark hair. He was very muscular and wore a dark suit that pulled slightly on his broad shoulders, with a black t-shirt underneath. The way he carried himself screamed military. Stephanie shuddered.

  “Yes Eli. I will be happy to see that man behind bars,” Max agreed. They walked down the floor, past Stephanie’s hiding place, to the lifts.

  Stephanie slipped out of the bathroom and quickly walked around the corner to her father’s personal assistant’s desk.

  “Hi Emily,” she said perching on the edge of the desk.

  Emily looked up and smiled. The two chatted for several minutes until her father came back.

  “Stephanie. What a lovely surprise. I didn’t know you were in London,” he leaned over and kissed her cheek. He looked a little unsettled. “I didn’t see you waiting here.”

  “Oh, you were busy with a client, so I chatted with Emily,” she replied lightly. If Emily saw any reason to contradict her, she didn’t show it.

  “How long are you in London – are you staying at the house?” Max asked.

  “No. I’m staying with Anna for the weekend,” she said. He’d obviously not heard about the incident with her car so she decided not to mention it. He had enough to worry about here. Besides, she was trying to convince herself it was just a prank. It was probably Victoria or one of her friends.