Shadow Over Edmund Street by Suzanne Frankham (read a book .TXT) 📕

‘Yes. But he has a lot of grandchildren, nieces, nephews. They seem to use the apartments from time to time. But not permanently.’

He didn’t say what he really thought, but he was piecing the story together. In the last few months Alex had become convinced Mr Chan had sold him the apartment as a lesson to the younger generation about what happens when families don’t act as one, in unison. Investments diluted. His owning the apartment was a big neon sign on the top of the building saying to the Chan family, ‘Stop the squabbling, act together. Strength in unity’.

‘It sounds odd. This family building—with you, sitting on the top floor in splendour.’ She smiled. Beautiful straight teeth, eyes that lit up. It took all of Alex’s concentration not to say, ‘That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. Truly smile.’ Instead, he looked away, over the city. In the distance, visible over the downtown high-rises, glimpses of the harbour.

‘What do you know about the family? They sound

intriguing.’

He grinned. ‘Oh yes, they are. It’s a big family. My daughter Clare has started researching their family for a history paper on the goldfields, so I know more about them now. The family started in Guangdong, came to New Zealand as merchants during the gold rush and stayed. Invested in other businesses. This building was the base for their import-export business in the North Island. They have a large presence in the South Island I believe. Now they’re into property, restaurants, the share market and God knows what else. I’ve only met a few of the others, except Jessica. I know her quite well.’

He smiled down at her. Thought how fragile she was. ‘Let’s eat. Then it’s your turn for a bit of storytelling. I’m intrigued.’

* ‘Are you sure about this?’ Alex asked. He was looking at her with scepticism.

Rose took her time, then she nodded. ‘Yes, I am. What it means and if it’s linked, I don’t know. But it was downright weird Edwina would want to buy a house filled with so much pain. Some of it hers. Don’t you agree?’

‘She didn’t talk for several months after the accident?’

‘According to Juliana. I suppose it’s possible that somehow Edwina felt responsible for the accident. Do you think?’

Alex shrugged his shoulders. ‘And the rest of this family are dead?’

‘The parents. The brother is alive. Juliana said he’s a lawyer or a judge. He left the neighbourhood after the mother died.’

‘Well, it’s a very strange story. But I have to say it’s not what I was expecting when you said you had discovered something. It’s fascinating,’ he added. ‘I have no idea what it means. Nothing in this case has been simple. But to link an accident all those years ago to her death now? It’s a long bow to draw.’

Rose nodded, her fingers twirling a piece of hair. ‘I don’t know what it means but the more I think about it, the odder it seems.’

‘Odd is right,’ Alex echoed.

The two of them were silent when Rose’s phone rang.

‘Hi,’ he heard her say. ‘Sure. Okay. I’ll come now.’

‘Sorry. My daughter wants a lift home.’ She made a face. ‘When do you think this stops?’

‘When the parents run away from home,’ he suggested.

She laughed. ‘Shouldn’t complain. At least she’s safe.’

‘Indeed.’ Thought of his own two precious daughters. He went down in the lift with Rose, walked her to her car, said goodbye. Was turning to go back into the building when he called out.

‘Rose?’

‘Yes?’

‘Did you say the brother was a judge?’

*

‘Marion?’

‘Alex? Are we on?’

‘No. Listen. Tell me. Somewhere in the Edwina Biggs case I’m sure I remember something about a judge.’

‘A judge?’

‘Yes, yes, in one of the witness statements or something. Can you remember?’

‘Alex, give it a rest. It’s Saturday night!’

‘All right, but somewhere we’ve had a judge come up. We need to find him.’

Marion sighed, not asking what it was about. ‘First thing Monday morning. You’ll have to wait till then.’

Alex put the phone down, poured a glass of red and wandered out onto the balcony. The air was cold but he barely noticed. Rose, he thought, imagine finding a person like Rose in an investigation like this. It had never happened before. Not to him. One meeting was all it took. He was hooked. Marion and her standards be damned. What would it matter if he and Rose had the odd meal together, saw each other? Friends, nothing more. Not yet anyway. She was like a fragile, hand-blown glass flower on the verge of shattering into a thousand fragments. The urge to be near her was powerful. Primeval. And if he was being honest with himself, which he rarely was, then it was healthy.

Alex took a hefty drink of wine. Then another. His mind, unbidden, began to slither down a dangerous path. The path that led to Bridget. He wondered what a psychologist would say if he confessed to having an affair with his ex-wife. An affair that lasted for five long years. Not that he would ever admit it out loud, never be able to own up to it. He could barely think about it without sinking into a dark place. But sometimes he couldn’t hold back the thoughts. It took over his being. His affair with Bridget.

How could he have loved and hated a person at the same time? Such a fine line. It was probably common. A string of lost souls all over the city, clinging on to shattered dreams. After the first time they’d made love in the apartment, he’d been stunned. Confused. He told himself never again, but the next time she’d arrived wearing a dress which clung in all the right places, and before he knew it the dress had been tossed over a chair and they were wrapped around each other, pressed hard against the living room wall.

In an instant he was nineteen again. It was a hot summer night, they’d slipped away from a social at St Barnaby’s and found