Sidney Sheldon & Tilly Bagshawe 3-Book Collection: After the Darkness, Mistress of the Game, Angel of the Dark. Tilly Bagshawe
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I found I was chasing my tail. So I decided to look at your husband instead. I went back over his disappearance, the investigation, what happened on Nantucket the day of the storm. Finally I looked at the autopsy.’
Grace swallowed. ‘Go on.’
‘It was a shambles. A joke. Death by drowning was assumed because the cadaver was washed up and because there was water in the lungs. When all this Quorum shit came to light, they ruled suicide because they figured there was a motive. But water in the lungs doesn’t necessarily mean the person drowned.’
‘It doesn’t?’
‘That body had been in the water for over a month. Of course the lungs were saturated. The question you need to ask yourself in a death like this is, how did the person get into the water in the first place, and was he alive or dead when he got there.’
‘So you think …’
‘I think your husband was dead before he hit the water. There was no blood in the lungs. Drowning at sea, in a heavy storm like that … the pressure of so much water entering the lungs so suddenly would almost certainly cause a hemorrhage.’
‘Almost certainly?’
‘It wasn’t just the lungs. There were other signs, the bruises to the torso. Scratches on the fingers and upper arms that could have been indicative of a struggle. And the way the head was severed. I saw the pictures. Just look at the vertebrae. That wasn’t fish. Not unless the fish had a guillotine. Or a meat cleaver.’
Grace put her hand over her mouth and retched.
‘Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so graphic. Are you okay?’
Grace shook her head. She would never be okay again. She took a deep breath, struggling to control her emotions.
‘Why didn’t any of this come out at the inquest?’
‘Some of it did. The bruising was mentioned, but dismissed. No one wanted to see the truth. Not at that time. You have to remember, your husband was the most hated man in America. Maybe it was just easier to think of him as a suicide, a coward, rather than a victim?’
‘Easier?’ Grace’s head was spinning. It was all too much to take in.
Davey said, ‘I wanted to tell you first. I know it’s a hell of a shock, but this is actually good news. I think we have enough here to ask to have the inquest reopened, Grace. It would be the first step toward launching a murder investigation.’
Grace was silent for a long time. At last she said, ‘No. I don’t want the police involved.’
‘But, Grace …’
‘No.’
Someone had killed Lenny. Butchered him like an animal and tossed him into the waves. What use were the police, or the courts, or the whole corrupt, disgusting so-called justice system? What justice was there for Lenny, or for me? America damned us both, for no better reason than that it was ‘easier.’ They let Lenny’s killer walk away and left me here to rot. Well, damn America. The time for justice is past.
Davey was confused. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I want you to find out who did it. If it was John Merrivale or someone else. I want to know who killed my husband. I want to know how he did it, and why. I want to know everything and I want to be sure. I’m not interested in reasonable doubt.’
Davey said, ‘Okay. And then?’
‘And then we’ll think about next steps.’
And then I’m going to kill him.
After lights-out, Grace lay awake, her mind racing.
Whoever murdered Lenny had to have been on Nantucket the day of the storm. It could have been a stranger. But she knew that was unlikely. It was someone close to us. It had to be. Someone close to Quorum. To the missing money.
She thought back to the vacation, to their houseguests.
Connie and Michael.
Honor and Jack.
Maria and Andrew.
Caroline and John.
The Quorum family. Except they weren’t family. They weren’t friends. All of them had abandoned Grace in her hour of need.
One of them had killed Lenny.
Grace no longer wanted justice. She wanted vengeance. She would have vengeance.
That night, Grace Brookstein began planning her escape.
Karen Willis rubbed her eyes. It was two in the morning and Grace Brookstein was climbing into her bed.
‘Grace? What is it? Are you sick?’
Grace shook her head. Beneath the blanket, the two of them huddled together for warmth. Karen felt the softness of Grace’s breasts against her back. The smell of her skin, the soft caress of her breath. Instinctively, she slid a hand under Grace’s nightdress, reaching for the silky wetness between her thighs.
‘I love you.’ Karen pressed her lips to Grace’s. For a few glorious seconds, Grace responded, kissing her back. Then she pulled away.
‘I’m sorry. I … I can’t.’
Grace felt torn. Part of her was tempted to accept the comfort Karen was offering. After all, Lenny was gone. And Grace loved Karen, too, in a way. But she knew it wasn’t right. She didn’t love Karen in that way. Not really. Even if she had, it would have been wrong to raise her hopes. Especially considering what she was about to tell her.
Karen looked anguished. How could she have been so stupid? She’d misread the signals. ‘Oh God. Are you angry with me?’
‘No. Not at all. Why would I be?’
‘I would never have made a move if I hadn’t thought … I mean, you came into my bed.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. Look, it was my fault,’ said Grace. ‘I needed to talk to you. I need your advice.’
‘My advice?’
‘Uh-huh. I’m going to escape.’
It was the break in the tension Karen needed. She laughed so hard she almost woke Cora.
Grace didn’t get it. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Oh, Grace! You can’t be serious!’
‘I’m deadly serious.’
‘Honey, it’s impossible. No one’s ever escaped from Bedford Hills.’
Grace shrugged. ‘There’s a first time for everything, right?’
‘Not for this.’ Karen wasn’t laughing anymore. ‘You actually mean it, don’t you? You’re out of your mind Grace. Have you looked outside lately? There are nine barbed-wire fences between us and freedom, all of them electrified. There are guards and dogs and cameras and guns.’
‘I know all that.’
‘Then you’re not thinking clearly. Look, even if you found some way to escape – which you won’t, because it’s impossible – you have one of the most recognizable faces in America. How far do you think you’ll get?’
Grace ran a hand over her broken nose. ‘I’m not so recognizable anymore. I don’t look the way I used to. Anyway, I can disguise myself.’
‘When they catch you, they’ll shoot you. No questions asked.’
‘I know that, too. It’s a risk I’m