CHAPTER SEVEN

The next morning while the children are completing their schoolwork, I call Sean. He answers wearily. "Hello, Mary. Have you found yet another person for me to snoop on?"

"I have. Two, actually. I need you to look into the possibility of an affair between Frederick and his secretary, Veronica Baines, and between Catherine and one Hugo Van Doren."

"Well, I can tell you already that Frederick's boffing his secretary. I have yet to meet a business owner who wasn't shagging his secretary."

"What a wonderful way you have with words," I reply. "And I would like more than your assumptions."

"Then I would like more than your cheeky comments about paying me well. What do you hope to gain from learning about their sex lives?"

"I have been charged to care for these children, Sean. To do that, I need to know what their parents are hiding."

"Repeat that sentence to yourself and tell me if you sound as dishonest to you as you do to me."

Heat climbs my cheeks, but I stand my ground. "These children are suffering, Sean. They are isolated from the world. They have no friends, no acquaintances outside of this estate. Their parents are too involved with themselves to show them any affection, and what's more, it appears that Frederick is involved in criminal behavior. Now I learn that both parents are embroiled in affairs."

"That could explain why the children are isolated," Sean mused. "The parents don't want the children spilling sensitive details that could be leaked to the public."

"Whatever the reason, I need to be aware of what they're hiding. I need to know how to protect the children in case any of this leads to serious trouble."

"Please don't lie to me," Sean says. He sounds exhausted. "I'll give you that knowing what type of extralegal work Frederick's involved in might be useful in case any of it involves men in black suits showing up to the estate with guns, but their sex lives? How could knowing that two adults in a mid-life crisis are fucking other people help you care for the children?"

"Will you watch your language? And if you must know, three of the four families I have worked for in the past have hidden murders related to love affairs. If such a murder is imminent here, I must know and do everything I can to prevent it."

He doesn't reply for a while. When he does, it's with considerable reluctance. "Fine. I'll find what details I can. But I'm warning you, Mary. You need to be careful. Frederick Jensen is very well-connected. Aside from Keller's financial contacts, Jensen manages the wealth of some of the most powerful people in the world."

My eyes widen at that. "Who?"

"Shit. Damn it, I knew better than to say that the moment the words slipped my mouth."

"Who, Sean?"

"Politicians in various countries. Business owners, wealthy families… hell, they're the second-largest hedge fund in Europe. Sheikhs put money into his business. Royals, nobles, other investors… I could get you a full list if you want reading material, but the point is that he's not the sort of man you make trouble for."

"I don't intend to make trouble for him," I promise. "I intend to protect the children. If he is involved in illegal business, then he could incur the wrath of some of his clients if his actions threaten their money. If he is the jealous type, or Catherine is, then a fit of passion over an affair might result in one of them dead. You might think I'm only a nosy bitch, but there's a reason I do this. I hate secrets, Sean. Secrets hurt innocent people. These children are innocent, and their parents have secrets that will hurt them. I refuse to let that happen."

My voice rises while I speak, and I glance around to make sure I'm not overheard. I'm on the balcony of my room now, and I have a view of the garden that I assume will be wonderful during the summer but now only reveals bare and twisted branches.

"Christ," Sean swears. "Whatever happened to letting sleeping dogs lie?"

"Dogs don't sleep forever, Sean."

"All right! I already said I'd do it. Just… When this is over, you and I are going to have a talk about the future of our association. I didn't agree to be your fly on every wall."

"Why did you become a private investigator if not to uncover secrets?"

"I thought I'd be taking pictures of cheating husbands, not spying on corrupt billionaires."

"Well, just pretend you're doing a normal job."

"Yes, until a hired killer puts a bullet in my eye."

"Moan, moan, moan," I retort. "Man up and do your job."

"I wonder what people would say about you if they knew this side of you?" he says sourly.

"Nothing I haven't heard before."

I hang up and take several deep breaths to calm myself. I suppose part of my frustration is motivated by guilt. In my private thoughts, I can admit that my curiosity is not altruistic. I believe that knowing the secrets this family holds will allow me to better care for the children, but Sean's right. It's a stretch to act like knowing the sordid details of Frederick's and Catherine's lives will somehow help me prepare for the emotional fallout of the couple's dissolving marriage. And as for the risk of murder, that's even more of a stretch. It's nothing more than a coincidence that I've happened to work for three families where murders occurred as a result of love affairs. That isn't the statistical norm by any means.

But I just hate secrets. I just hate that people can't be honest with each other. What's the point? What pain do you save yourself by hiding your true actions and behavior?

A knock on my door startles me out of my thoughts. I sigh and push my irritation at Sean to the background of my mind. It's probably the children telling me they've completed their work.

I answer to see not the children but Sophie. She smiles sympathetically at me and holds up a tea service.

"You are the answer to every prayer, Sophie," I say gratefully.

She laughs and says, "It's a gift. Shall we take this tea on the balcony or the porch?"

"The balcony," I answer. "I feel like looking down on the world today."

She laughs again and replies, "Well, don't look up, then. Juliet is cleaning the fifth floor today. You might catch her looking down on you if you glance at the wrong time."

"I will keep my eyes fixed firmly toward the Earth," I promise.

I return to the balcony with my new friend in tow, and we enjoy our tea. For several minutes, we don't speak. There is something comforting in having someone to share silence with. Somehow knowing that someone else is choosing to relax makes my own choice to relax feel better. Don't ask me to explain how this works. I'm not entirely sure of it myself.

Sophie breaks the silence after refilling our cups. "It wouldn't be the first time. For either of them."

I don't need to ask what she's talking about. "So they've both been unfaithful before?"

"Oh yes. Frederick never stopped being a ladies' man. He just became quieter about it. No more parties with dozens of young models, but… well, let's just say he has more than one cell phone."

I scoff. "Some men are so disgusting."

"It's not just men," Sophie replies. "Catherine has enjoyed her fair share of fun."

"So there have been other Hugos?"

"Actually, I don't think Hugo is among the number of Catherine's conquests."

I lift an eyebrow. "Really? They sure behave as though they're involved."

"No doubt Hugo wishes they were," she replies, "as for Catherine's behavior, that's just how the fashion world works. The touching and petting and everything. It's just what people in fashion do. Perhaps a psychologist could explain why, but Catherine treats all of her friends in the fashion industry that way—women and men."

"So Hugo is in fashion."

"Oh yes. He manages fashion models. He was her manager for many years."

"I see. I'm afraid you've failed to convince me that they're not involved."

She shrugged. "They might be. I'm only saying I don't think so. Hugo isn't Catherine's type."

"What is Catherine's type?"

"Men who are noticeably less attractive than she is."

My brow furrows. "Really? Even when they're not seen publicly?"

"But she and Hugo are seen publicly. Hugo has allowed himself to age naturally, so perhaps he doesn't seem so attractive as he did in his younger days, but if you look at photos of him twenty years ago, you'll understand why Catherine wouldn't have dated him."

"Appearances are that important to her?"

Sophie smiles patiently. "Oh, Mary. In the fashion world, appearances are everything. That is why Catherine resents Frederick's affairs. She doesn't care one whit that she doesn't satisfy him. She cares that her reputation will be damaged if people learn that her husband philanders."

"Do they not love each other at all?" I ask in amazement.

Sophie sighs. "Love means something different to them. If you asked them if they loved each other, they would say of course they do. And they would mean it. But…" She sighed again. "It's all about possession to them. About ownership. Frederick wanted Catherine because she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Having her would mean he was the man who possessed the most beautiful woman on Earth. Catherine wanted Frederick because she wanted to be a more valuable prize than any of the other women he admired. He was a known rake in the fashion world, and she made him hers.

"They're not happy, of course. When you define happiness by what you possess, you can never possess enough. When you define your worth by how it compares to others, you never stop comparing yourself, and you never stop finding ways to come up short."

"It's just so terrible for the children," I lament. "They want so much to lead normal lives, but they aren't allowed to."

"Of course not. They will never lead a normal life."

She says this as though she's surprised I would imagine it any other way. I feel a touch of anger settle over me when I say, "They will. If I have to spirit them away from here, they will."

Sophie smiles sadly at me. "You have a good heart, Mary. I pray it won't be hardened by your time with us."

The conversation turns to small talk. Perhaps we both sense that we've exhausted our emotional reserves and avoid dwelling on a topic that so drains both of us.

I think about the revelations I've received today. The family's sickness makes more and more sense the more I learn who Frederick and Catherine really are.

And the more I know, the greater my sense of dread. The wealthy can get away with their hedonism for a while, but not forever. Eventually, their actions catch up to them.

And when they suffer, they don't suffer alone.