Page 119 of The Dead Come to Stay
“Perish the thought,” MacAdams said as they entered the shaded structure. He’d already filled her in on most of the case details. Dmytro would be treated with leniency. The charity might yet escape being shut down. Stanley would live, even if that also meant standing trial.
“That part is all down to you,” MacAdams had told her. And she’d replied with the date and page count of the book on firstaid she’d edited once. Because she couldn’t seem to stop doing that.
“What about all the artifacts?” Jo asked. Partly because Gwilym was dying to know.
“Interpol will be handling that; hopefully most will returned to Syria. They may follow up on the drop-off locations Dmytro provided, but I have my doubts about whether it will ever lead to arrests. It so rarely does.”
“Right. Because the buyers can claim they didn’t know, or that the seller lied to them about provenance. Actually plenty of them reallydon’tknow what they’re looking at. Which reminds me...” Jo took out her phone and called up the photo of the Arabesque work. “Your earring isn’t an earring. It’s a nose ring.”
MacAdams gave her an open-eyed stare. “A veryoldnose ring?”
“Oh yeah. From Kush, between three thousand and two thousand years BC—” Jo stopped talking. Because MacAdams was... laughing. “Are you all right?”
“Oh Gerald, you just couldn’t shut up,” he murmured, wiping his eyes. “Jo, you are a miracle.”
“It was Gwilym this time, actually.”
“Both of you, then. And I change my previous answer. I think, in fact, we might just get a conviction or two,” he said, smiling. Actually smiling. Jo smiled back and wondered if she was blushing again.
They hadn’t talked about Thursday night, or the fact MacAdams obediently held her close until paramedics arrived. And then, that he’d carried her to the elevator and out to the waiting ambulance to be looked over. He’d had to leave her right after that, and spent the night and next day processing things in Newcastle—so Gwilym had driven her home on Friday in her own car. Now, they had time to spare and plenty to say. And she couldn’t think of anything.
“We are going to do all we can for Lina,” MacAdams said as he poured wine. “Her actions will be considered as under duress, a bit like self-defense. Ava will be a good advocate. She’s already remunerated Maryam, who at least has a visa now.”
“And Lina’s baby will be born here, in the UK,” Jo said, a little wistfully. MacAdams leaned forward to chime his glass against hers.
“Yes. I have been meaning to ask you about that.”
“About Lina’s baby?”
“About Evelyn’s.”
Jo drank the wine. She wasn’t very knowledgeable about vintages, which suddenly bothered her.Make a note.But it was crisp and dry and smelled of pears.
“Violet. LaterViola.”Jo had built a picture in her mind’s eye, though they only had the one image, blurry in newsprint from her wedding day. Tall, willowy, but with eyes like Evelyn’s. “She lived most of her life in Canada, believe it or not. Montreal. I was within striking distance when I lived in New York and never knew it.”
“You have family there, then?” MacAdams asked, and the question sent a sudden shiver through Jo. He noticed it, too. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“It’s not an ugly shiver. It’s more like turning on a light. A little bit of current. I’m just not used to thinking abouthavingfamily. That kind of family. Instead of all of you, I mean.” Jo stopped and frowned. “Um, none of that came out right; can I start over?”
“Please do.” MacAdams refilled her glass.
Jo took a breath. “Aiden didn’t get as far as living relatives. But two of Violet’s children married. One of them actually returned to the UK in the 1960s, but I lost track after that. I don’t know if they are still living, or if they had children who might be. It’s exciting and scary at the same time, but it feels different now.”
It was partly what Gwilym had said (and what Aiden and Arthur and Chen proved):familyandbloodweren’t the same thing. It was partly knowing that Evelyn’s kin had treated her so evilly, sent away by the father, seduced by her brother-in-law and refused medical help by a jealous sister who later gave her baby away. But most of all, it was the realization that Jo herself didn’t feel alone anymore.
“I want to find them. I plan to,” she said. “But I don’tneedto. Aiden spent so much time hunting for our family that he missed out making his own with Arthur. My mother never learned to let go of anything, and ended up bitter and alone. I don’t want to be like that.”
MacAdams had been listening attentively. Something he was very good at, she decided. Now he looked over her head to the garden and the open sky where Ardemore House used to be.
“Yes, I think I’ve had similar revelations,” he said. “I stayed married a long time after I wasn’t married anymore. So to speak.”
“I still haven’t met Annie,” Jo said.
MacAdams finished his glass. “You will,” he said. It wasn’t a speech or anything. It wasn’t particularly poignant. But Jo was blushing suddenly and her fingers felt tingly.
“Oh. Good.” Jo cleared her throat and decided to eat cheese before putting any more wine on her oddly buoyant spirits. She made double portions. “I do have something planned. Sort of.”
“A party?” MacAdams asked.
