From now on I will visit her more often—not just at weekends but in the evening, too. I know that most of the time she forgets I am here. She labors to remember but it's beyond her powers and fading strength.
Villawood Lodge is expensive and most of my savings are gone. For the briefest of moments I contemplated keeping a handful of the diamonds or perhaps giving some of them to Ali as compensation for what she's been through. She wouldn't have taken them, of course, and I can understand why. They're covered in blood.
Harold, the gardener at Aleksei's house in Hampstead, found the stones and gratefully accepted a reward. He was even photographed by the newspapers, leaning on a sundial and pointing to where he discovered the four velvet bags.
Daj turns her head and listens. Someone is playing the piano in the music room. Outside an exercise class power walks through the garden, a platoon of swinging arms and swaying buttocks. The leader lifts her knees and glances over her shoulder to make sure she hasn't left any stragglers behind.
“I can see all the lost children,” Daj whispers. “You have to find them.”
“I can't bring them all back.”
“You haven't tried.”
She is looking at me now—recognizing me. I want to hold on to the moment because I know it won't last. Something will stir the breeze and her mind will scatter like dandelion seeds.
I am not a believer in fate or destiny or karma. I don't think everything happens for a reason and that luck evens itself out over a lifetime. The law and order of the universe is breathtaking—the rising and setting of the sun, the seasons, the positioning of the stars. Without such certainties the heavens will fall on our heads. Society has laws, too. My job was always to keep them. I know that's not much of a philosophy on life but so far it has been enough for me.
Kissing Daj on the forehead, I take my coat and walk down the hard smooth corridor toward the entrance of Villawood Lodge. In the foyer there is a public phone that takes plastic. Committed to memory I have the numbers for Claire and Michael. Some things you never forget.
The receiver feels cold against my neck as I punch the buttons and listen to the ringing. There have been many lost children in my life. I may not be able to bring them all back but I have to try.
Also by Michael Robotham
SUSPECT