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found out, he smashed his phone.’

Jackson straightened up fast, startling both Sophia and Julianna. ‘For fuck's sake, what was he waiting for?’

‘I don't know.’ That Mark hated talking to his mother seemed too facile an excuse to tell Jackson. Sophia twirled her finger around a gnarl of wood stain. The tips of her ears were pink. The news Julianna had delivered was ruining everyone's evening.

‘I’m sorry, Sophia,’ said Jackson. ‘We’ll have to celebrate your announcement another evening.’

Something more was on the cards than a simple birthday celebration. Jackson hated time wasters. Julianna neither wanted Ellen to be at risk, nor did she want to be setting off alarm bells for no reason. She had spoilt the weekend regardless of the outcome.

He called for Hettie, who returned child free, and drew her into his arms. ‘Something has come up. It's foundation business. It's important. I wouldn't go if it wasn't.’ He kissed her forehead.

He fished out car keys from his coat pocket. ‘We'll take my car. Gary can pick up the one Julianna used.’

Jackson reversed the Porsche Panamera out of the garage, flicked a switch on a remote and opened the main gates. Julianna clutched her handbag on her lap and closed her eyes. Waves of nausea penetrated, breaking down the illusion of control. This was action, wasn't it? The very thing she craved.

‘Calm yourself, Julianna. We’ll find her,’ Jackson said coolly. ‘Punch in her postcode.’

The task completed, she rubbed her throbbing temples.

‘There’s a bottle of water in the glove compartment,’ Jackson said.

She pressed the cool plastic to her forehead then swallowed a few mouthfuls to ease her dry throat.

Their roles were switched. Jackson was driving her, and he was quite a smooth driver considering he preferred chauffeurs. He picked up speed, clearly prepared to risk breaking the limits.

‘You don’t know Ellen, so why the concern?’ Jackson asked.

‘Because deep down Mark cares about her. Mark had offered Ellen a home, but once Sophia uncovered the truth, they failed to support each other. They never have perhaps. Blood isn't glue. Relatives aren't always friends.’

The traffic started to build up and Jackson hit the brakes.

‘You love Mark?’ The Haynes’ bluntness was notorious.

Julianna looked out of passenger window. ‘I don’t know. I have this connection to him. My ex, you remember Alex Woodfall, he was such a self-centred git. Charming and generous with his friends, but he didn’t think of me much.’

‘Alex, yes, I remember him. A dickhead.’ Jackson snorted, so derisively that Julianna laughed. ‘You can do better,’ he added.

‘Is Mark better?’ She fingered the buttons of her jacket, treating the question as her own. ‘He makes me feel alive, I guess. I’ve really enjoyed being with him, working with him. We do stuff...’ She was probably blushing.

‘You could be good for him too,’ Jackson said. ‘Mark's speciality is doggedness, when correctly motivated. I suspect it comes from his mother, although he wouldn’t take kindly to that comparison.’

‘No, he wouldn't. I don't think his mother is dogged. More likely possessive, of him, his attention. A narcissist.’ Julianna checked the time – just past six o'clock. Ellen could have already left the country.

They fell silent for a while, Jackson concentrating on the road. The streetlights dazzled.

‘Was I wrong to involve you?’ he asked. An awkward question. His face stayed in the shadows, along with his thoughts. There was nothing to read, or judge, just like when he had been in the back of the car when she had driven him and Hettie to the clinic.

‘You wanted me to overhear you, though, didn't you, sir? It was deliberate.’

‘Don't hate me for that. I think you've enjoyed finding things out. It's been useful for me too, having my suspicions confirmed; the links made concrete. I had no firm information to establish how everything fitted together. The murder and Haydocks’s downfall happened years apart, which still doesn’t make sense unless Bill… Well, that’s what you’re working on.’

She didn’t have an answer. Had Bill really pushed Mark into Henderson’s crooked arms. If he had… poor Mark. A double blow. Then there was the matter of Jackson’s involvement – at what point had he decided to act? She hadn’t discussed any of this with Mark.

‘You've known since Mark joined your company, haven't you, that Haydocks laundered money for Redningsmann?’

The shadows on Jackson’s sculptured face remained the same, unprovoked by her direct question. His voice was equally unconcerned. ‘I spoke to the police. I wanted to know if any of the clients might be linked to other businesses in the area. I’ve subsidiaries in Manchester. That name of that fraudulent client was sufficient to draw my personal attention. Mark had left Haydocks before the police could speak to him, and it served me to keep him out of the way. But I only had this one name, Redningsmann, and I knew of others.’ There was a pause while Jackson negotiated a tricky roundabout. She left it to him to break the silence.

‘Unfortunately, the police weren’t forthcoming due to ongoing investigations. It made sense to bring in Mark; I’d no reason to suspect him. I had recruiters pick up on ex-Haydocks employees and screen them, offer a few of the promising ones jobs. The bad apple, Henderson, shouldn’t ruin lives of good apples. Mark might have stayed at Daneswan, getting his confidence back, beavering away on minor accounts, except for what happened next. Mark bumped into Hettie, and as you well know, Chris found out about Mark’s father. You could say my curiosity spiked. You know from the conversation in the car that Hettie is aware of Mark’s connection to Haydocks, since it’s no secret and within the scope of my business to keep a watching eye on known fraudsters.’ Jackson glanced in Julianna’s direction with his sharp pair of eyes. Too sharp; she flinched. ‘But she wasn’t told about Bill.’

Julianna

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