“No.” He shakes his head. “I won’t believe it. My son wouldn’t have taken his own life.” He’s at the door, he walks through it, into the hall.
“I need to know by tomorrow morning what your intentions are, Mr. Hawthorpe,” I call after him. “If I don’t hear from you, I’ll go to the police!”
I hear the front door slam and running to the window, I see him get into his car and drive off. Once he’s through the gates, I hurry to the hall and using the remote, close them behind him. I’m panting now, my breath raspy. But I did it. I feel a strange exhilaration, because there had been no instructions for this part, only guidelines.
At some point, you may have a visit from Jethro Hawthorpe. We cannot help you with this; we can’t predict what he will say. He knows the terms of the postnuptial agreement so he may accuse you of marrying Ned for his money. To put a stop to those allegations, tell him that you plan to donate any monies due to you to his foundation. You should know that Jethro Hawthorpe, unlike his son, is an honorable man who, through his foundation, works tirelessly to help others.
There’s the possibility he may not want to accept that his son took his own life. If so, you may use any of the information contained in this letter to persuade him that Ned was depressed and feared for his life. If necessary, tell him that Ned was responsible for the murder of a young woman, Lina Mielkut?, and that he feared he would be killed in retaliation for her murder. He will not want to accept that his son was a murderer, but we know you witnessed the payback murder of his security guard, so use this to your advantage.
You should also know that it’s probable Ned also killed Justine Elland, the woman who accused him of sexual assault. You may use this information to persuade Jethro Hawthorpe that his son was guilty, not just of Lina’s murder, but also of Justine’s.
In the kitchen, I make a pot of coffee. My euphoria has disappeared and is replaced by an awful doubt. Was it terrible to tell a bereaved father that his son was a murderer, even if it was true? But Jethro Haw thorpe had accused me of murdering Ned, an accusation that, with his connections, he could make stick. It would be my word against his. I also have terrible doubts about insisting to Jethro Hawthorpe that Ned took his own life when I don’t believe that he did. He was too happy to be finally free. Which means he was pushed. By whom?
As always, my mind circles back to Lukas. To the line in the letter of instructions—we know you witnessed the payback murder of his security guard. The only way the kidnappers could have known that I witnessed Hunter’s murder was from someone who saw me in the car with Ned. And the only person who had seen me was the gunman, sent by Lukas to kill us.
CHAPTER FIVE
I’m nervous the next day, waiting for Jethro Hawthorpe’s visit. I should have given him my phone number so that I wouldn’t have to see him again.
The nonstop ringing at the gate doesn’t help. Each time, I check via the video link to see if it’s him. But it’s always journalists, cameramen hovering behind them like flies.
The news of Ned’s death broke last night. I watched it emotionless on the news, curled up on the sofa. I listened as they confirmed that the body found the previous day on the beach at Haven Cliffs was that of Ned Hawthorpe. I waited for the reporter to say that the police weren’t looking for anyone else in connection with his death, and when he didn’t, my heart had sunk. The bulletin had, however, mentioned the allegation of sexual assault against Ned, and the fact that he had been trolled on social media and targeted in the press because of it. Most people listening would probably think suicide. But the police weren’t most people, and neither was Jethro Hawthorpe.
At midday my phone rings, a call from an unknown number. I’m in the kitchen, cleaning the already pristine cupboards. Packets of pasta and tins of food, piles of plates and bowls are scattered over the work surfaces. I stare at my phone, then press ANSWER.
“For the sake of the foundation, I will accept that my son took his own life,” Jethro Hawthorpe says.
I close my eyes. “Thank you. If you could give me the name of the attorney who drew up the postnuptial agreement, I’ll make my wishes known to him. In return, I’d like to be kept informed of the funeral arrangements. I’ll need to be there, for appearances’ sake. Once it’s over, you won’t hear from me again.”
“I hope not,” he says, and hangs up.
Within minutes, my phone rings again. There’s a number listed this time, but not one I know. I pick up.