The Hunter's Prayer

‘So what about the police? And why did someone kill them?’


‘That’s two different questions. I’m assuming the contract is unfinished business from a long time ago.’ The comment resonated with what Lucas had said, a corroboration that left her feeling queasy. ‘The police business stems back mainly to the eighties. Mark was investigated by the US and UK authorities for money laundering. And I’ll be honest with you, he was laundering back then, but they couldn’t find anything. This is why your dad was successful: because he was good. Since the mid-to late eighties, the business has been legitimate anyway, but it’s been kept complex and primarily offshore . . .’ He stopped and looked across the lawn. Lucy was approaching, carrying a tray of drinks.

‘Don’t let me interrupt,’ she said, the tone of a gentle admonishment.

‘Nothing you don’t know, Luce. Just the thought of a cold drink broke my train of thought.’

She smiled and said to Ella, ‘I wouldn’t be bringing him drinks if you weren’t here.’

‘Thanks,’ said Ella, taking one of the condensation-frosted glasses.

As Lucy walked away, Simon said, ‘As I was saying, the business has been kept complex and primarily offshore for the purposes of tax avoidance—not evasion, avoidance—so naturally, the authorities are still suspicious.’

‘So you’re saying I’ve got no reason to be ashamed or embarrassed.’

‘Absolutely not. In fact you’ve every reason to be proud of what your dad achieved. Yes, there’s an edge to the Hatto business empire, but we’re not crooked, certainly not by wider corporate or government standards.’

She sipped at her drink, finding it less refreshing than she’d hoped, and said, ‘Am I rich?’

‘Yes. Very. Hard to put a precise figure on it but 80 per cent of the business—you’re probably worth in excess of two hundred million.’

‘That’s impossible!’ People with that much money didn’t live like they had. ‘I’m a multimillionaire?’

‘Ella, please, your house alone makes you a multimillionaire.’ The house. How could she ever go back there now?

‘I want to sell the house as soon as possible.’

‘Perhaps best not to rush into it. You might feel differently later in the summer.’

‘No, I don’t ever want to go back there. Will you arrange it, have everything put in storage, put the house on the market?’ He nodded reluctantly. ‘You don’t mind me staying here the rest of the summer?’

‘Of course not. And you’ll join us in the Caribbean for Christmas.’ She smiled, thinking, though, how she’d never have another Christmas with her family. For some reason, it reminded her of Lucas again, wondering what Christmas was like for him, in Switzerland, alone in his library of a house.

‘I’d like that. And I’ll be at college in between times. It’ll give me a while to decide where I want to live.’

‘Good. It’s good that you’re going back to college. You know, this week won’t be any fun, but after the funeral we need to get back to living as normally as possible, and for you that means being twenty, being a student. The rest can wait; I’ll take care of everything until such time as you want me to step aside.’

‘Which is never. Thank God you’re here, Simon. I don’t know what I’d have done otherwise. I’d probably have sold everything.’

‘No you wouldn’t. You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for.’ He looked around casually. It was almost as if he expected to see a surveillance team listening in. ‘This chap who protected you. You told them you didn’t know who he was, his name or anything.’

‘He told us it’d make life easier for him if we said that. We discussed it on the way to the consulate; it seemed the least we could do, really.’

Simon leaned back in his chair, clearly impressed, as he said, ‘So you do know who he was! Tell me.’

‘His name was Stephen Lucas. Dad hired him to watch us.’

He looked bemused, maybe a little shocked too, saying in response, ‘Stephen Lucas. Is that what he called himself?’

‘No, he called himself Lucas. He was about your age.’

‘Amazing; I thought he’d retired. And he really wouldn’t have been my first choice for close protection work.’

‘You know him?’ She answered the question almost immediately in her own mind, remembering that Lucas had told her he didn’t know Simon.

‘God, no! Heard of him. Unsavory type—had a vicious reputation as an enforcer, and as a contract killer.’ An enforcer—she thought of that moment of rage with Chris, imagining it exploding into full-blown violence.

‘I heard him say he’d killed people. And he killed three people to keep me alive—that’s really all I need to know about him.’