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Hadley left, closing the door quietly behind him. Jane picked up her pencil and tapped the notes she had made. She was now certain Helena Lanark had known about the buried baby. But she doubted that Helena could have acted alone. Jane was also suspicious about when exactly Jason Thorpe had gained power of attorney. One thing was certain: it was now imperative that she questioned his mother, Beatrice. Hadley had seemed evasive and when she had reminded him that he was Miss Lanark’s lawyer, he had been unable to control the look of anger in his eyes. It made Jane wonder if Helena Lanark had ever been aware of the proceeds from the sale of her property, and if Hadley and Jason Thorpe had worked together to defraud her. But then, why would Hadley warn her about Jason?

Jane went over to Sergeant Hunt’s desk and told him she was going home. He nodded.

‘Are you having a long weekend?’ he asked. ‘That old boy Hadley, he seemed a bit unnerved when he left. Did you get anything from him?’

Jane raised an eyebrow. ‘Can you do me a favour? Could you go to his offices and ask for full access to Helena Lanark’s files? He’ll know why you’re asking for them, but I’ll be interested to hear what he says.’

‘And if he refuses?’

‘I’ll ask DCI Carter if we can get a warrant.’

‘Did you give him the album?’ Hunt asked.

‘No, it’s still at my house. I’m going to fetch it now.’ She walked off as Hunt padded over to young DC Timothy Taylor’s desk.

‘Come on, son, I need you to drive me. She wants me to do her a favour... anything for a change of scenery.’

That afternoon, Jane spent a considerable amount of time in John Lewis looking at paints and picking up colour charts to take home. She then made her way to the carpet section and requested various samples.

She had missed lunch, so she went into the café on the third floor and bought a pot of tea and a ham sandwich.

Jane didn’t arrive home until after four. She put the samples on the table in the kitchen next to the Lanark family photograph album, then opened the album, wondering what could be in it that had made Jason Thorpe so eager to get it back.

As she turned the heavily mounted pages of the album, she was frustrated at how little information was written beneath the sepia photographs. Eddie was right, the numerous images of the three sisters wearing matching white dresses were reminiscent of the Romanovs — but looking at the photographs didn’t tell her anything. It was not until she had flicked through to the back of the album that she found several blank mounts where the photographs had obviously been removed. There were also some photographs that had been pasted in, rather than placed in the elegant mounts. One of them showed a boy in a wheelchair, with a woman wearing dark glasses standing behind him. There were three more images of the same woman standing beside a rather good-looking man.

At first Jane wondered if the man was Jason, but then realised that it was perhaps his father. Two more pictures were loosely inserted, one with the same man’s face scratched out. The second photograph was even more disturbing as it depicted Marjorie in an open coffin. Jane turned the heavy pages back to some of the sepia photographs and she noticed that the Lanark girls’ mother was often wearing elaborate jewellery.

She continued turning the pages back and forth until she found a faded manila envelope that, at one time, appeared to have been stuck down. Opening it, she eased out a folded sheet of almost parchment-like paper. Unfolding it carefully, she saw at the top written in elegant calligraphy the words ‘Family Tree’. Jane was afraid of the paper tearing as she carefully flattened a second page. She noted the references to Henry Lanark’s parents and grandfather — then her attention was drawn to the marriage between Henry and Muriel. Her parents were listed as Count Antonin Petrukhin, and his wife Aida and the date of Muriel’s birth seemed to suggest that Henry Lanark was marrying a fourteen-year-old.

Jane jumped as the phone suddenly rang. She hurried into the hallway to answer it, carrying the family tree with her. It was Sergeant Hunt.

‘We’re back at the station... it was a bit of a wasted journey.’

He explained that Arnold Hadley had refused to allow them any access to Helena Lanark’s files.

‘What, he just said no?’ Jane asked.

‘Yes, he did. He said that he was not allowed to give access to any of his client’s files as Helena Lanark’s representative had been to see him and warned him that he would take legal action if he divulged any personal information about her.’

Jane sighed. ‘I doubt I’ve got enough evidence for Carter to approve a search warrant. But thank you for trying anyway.’

‘I didn’t try too hard because I had a gut feeling he was scared. Remember I told you how he anxious he seemed when he left your office?’

‘The representative Hadley mentioned — did he say it was Jason Thorpe?’ Jane asked.

‘He didn’t mention him by name. But he said his client’s representative, who had power of attorney, had been to see him. Anyway, you have a good weekend, ma’am.’

‘Just a minute,’ Jane said. ‘I need another favour. Can you do a search on the birth and death of Muriel Lanark and reference a Count Antonin Petrukhin? I want both dates.’

‘Bloody hell... how far back are you going?’

‘Just see what you can come up with.’

‘Can you just spell it out for me?’

Jane could hear Hunt’s heavy breathing as she spelled out the name and he repeated it back to her to be absolutely sure.

‘Right, I’ll start on that, ma’am. Oh, have you seen the Evening Standard?

‘No...’

‘Apparently, the developers have now been given clearance by DCI Carter, and the headline is, “House of Horrors to be Demolished”.’

‘Well, that should make Mr Thorpe a happy man,’ Jane said, now certain that the threat of legal action by the developer was a fabrication.

‘I’ll get young Tim to track down as much as we can get on Muriel Lanark,’ Hunt said.

Jane thanked him and was just replacing the receiver when the doorbell rang. She put the family tree on the phone table before opening the door, expecting to see Eddie — then stepped back sharply as she found Jason Thorpe on the doorstep.

‘Sorry to turn up unannounced,’ he began with a smile, ‘but I believe you have my aunt’s photo album. I want to apologise if I have caused any problem by contacting the detective in charge at the station — it’s just that my aunt is very frail, and she was anxious about the album’s whereabouts. I’d like to get it back before I leave for Australia.’

Jane opened the door wider. ‘Of course, I understand, and I do apologise — but can I ask you how you got my home address?’

‘Yes, of course, and I’m sorry again for intruding. I had a chat with old man Hadley, and he gave me your address because you had told him you had the album at home.’

Jane forced a smile but was still hesitant about inviting Jason into her home, as she knew he was lying: she had never given Hadley her home address. However, she kept up the charade and smiled pleasantly at him.

‘Yes, of course, Mr Thorpe. If you wait one moment, I’ll just get the album for you.’ If she was putting on an act, Thorpe was going one better and gave her a dazzling smile. He put his hands in his trouser pockets and leaned casually against the door frame.

‘No need to hurry. I’m not going anywhere. Well, I will be soon, as I’m flying back to Oz.’

Jane knew this was a potential opportunity to get the information that she needed, but she was aware she had to be very wary of him. Jason peered into the hall.

‘Have you just moved in? We have little terraced houses a lot like this in Sydney and Melbourne, but they all have open verandas at the front.’