The Pleasures of Autumn Read online

  ‘Is this a good moment to talk?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I’m afraid that matters have dis-improved, as you say.’

  That didn’t sound good. ‘In what way?’

  ‘The police have completed their preliminary enquiries and are happy that they have sufficient evidence against you to proceed with a prosecution.’

  A fist squeezed her heart. Her shock must have shown, because suddenly Niall was beside her. He touched her arm and mouthed a question to her. She opened her mouth to respond but the words wouldn’t come out.

  ‘Miss O’Sullivan?’ the voice on the phone continued.

  ‘Yes,’ she croaked, in a voice that didn’t sound like hers.

  ‘I’ve requested copies of their files and any other evidence that they may have. In the meantime, I suggest that we meet as soon as possible, so that we can discuss your defence or your guilty plea.’

  ‘I didn’t do it. I didn’t …’ The phone slipped and tumbled from her hand and was caught by Niall.

  He spoke into it. ‘This is Niall Moore. I’m looking after Sinead. Can you give me your address? Yes. I know the place. Yes. Okay. We’ll see you there this afternoon.’

  He disconnected the call. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Niall’s expression said it all. They were going to prosecute. She was going to have to stand up in a courtroom full of people and be accused of stealing. Even when she was declared not guilty, when they discovered that it was all a horrible mistake, her reputation would be tainted forever.

  And they would find out about Lottie. She could just imagine her grandmother’s face when that came out. Her knees trembled. The muesli she had eaten for breakfast threatened to make a reappearance.

  ‘Breathe, Sinead. Just breathe.’ Niall helped her along the path to a wooden bench and they sat and stared at the lake. He held her hand, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles. His face was unreadable.

  Niall wound an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. The slow thump-thump of his heart steadied her nerves and her racing pulse returned to normal. She felt safe in his arms, protected.

  ‘Sinead, I have to ask you some questions and I want you to answer me. No matter how hard it is, you must tell me the truth. You know me. You know that you can trust me.’

  ‘I know.’ He was probably the only person in Geneva that she could trust.

  ‘Tell me what happened on the day of the theft, everything that you remember. Every detail, no matter how small or insignificant. Even the smallest thing could be important.’

  Sinead snuggled closer. ‘It was a normal day. I did lots of admin work, insurance for the show, a meeting with the Finance Unit about next year’s budget, that sort of thing. In the afternoon, Günter and I looked at the final proofs for the show catalogue and approved some of the souvenirs for the gift shop.’ She laughed. ‘Günter hates anything tacky.’

  ‘Go on,’ Niall prompted her.

  ‘Afterwards, I went home and painted the bathroom.’

  ‘That was it. No visitors? No phone calls or emails once you got home?’

  She shook her head. ‘I didn’t bother turning on the laptop.’

  ‘What about cameras in the lobby?’

  ‘I don’t think they work properly. We had a burglary a couple of weeks ago and the security system was damaged. The building manager is still waiting for the insurance company to settle the claim.’

  He sighed deeply. ‘So no one else saw you? There was no one in the lift? Or in the hallway?’

  Her stomach gave another little flip. This was serious. She had no alibi for the evening of the theft. ‘No one.’

  He moved back so he could see her face.

  ‘Did you steal the jewel?’

  The question blindsided her and she jerked away from him. ‘How can you ask me that?’

  ‘I am asking you that, and I won’t be the last. Answer the bloody question.’ There was an edge to his voice that made her shiver and she wasn’t sure if it was fear, or a warped sense of excitement at his command.

  ‘I swear on my life that I didn’t take the stone.’

  ‘And is there anything else that you need to tell me before we meet your lawyer?’

  Sinead hesitated. Should she tell him about Lottie? If the case went to trial her past might be exposed. Don’t be silly. That won’t happen. This is all just a horrible mistake. Besides, what would Niall think of her if she told him the truth? Oh, he might enjoy watching Lottie dance on stage, but in real life no respectable businessman would want to be associated with an exotic dancer. And he would probably have to tell Uncle Tim. No. She couldn’t risk that. Her uncle would be furious if he discovered that she had put herself through college that way, rather than asking him for money. She couldn’t tell Niall about her past. Lottie would have to remain a secret.

  ‘Sinead,’ he prompted her for a response. ‘Is there anything else?’

  She forced a smile onto her face. ‘No. Nothing.’

  Satisfied, he pulled her back into his arms again. Despite the chill breeze from the lake she felt warm. She relaxed and burrowed deeper into his coat.

  ‘Comfortable?’ Niall’s voice rumbled against her ear.

  Mmm, I could get used to this. She almost said the words out loud and stopped. What am I doing? Niall wasn’t her boyfriend. He was an investigator her uncle had sent to keep his one million franc investment safe. Niall was only doing his job. Nothing more. She was crazy to think that it was anything else.

  A light bulb went on inside her head. Idiot. Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? He was the perfect solution to her problem. Niall was an investigator. He had contacts and he was used to dealing with all sorts of crimes and underworld characters. She couldn’t rely on the police to protect her and she didn’t know anyone else she could trust. She had some money, thanks to Lottie. It wouldn’t have to be a charity case. She could pay him.

  She reached for her bag. She didn’t have much cash on her, but she supposed she should give him something to retain his services. Sinead emptied the contents of her purse into her hand. One hundred and twelve francs and fifty-eight centimes.

  ‘There.’ She pressed the money into his hand. ‘It’s a retainer. I know that you cost lots more than that but I have money and I can pay you the rest when I get to a bank.’

  ‘Pay me for what?’

  ‘I want you to investigate my case.’

  5

  She was so intense, clutching a handful of Swiss francs and looking at him so hopefully. Something inside Niall melted. It was totally irrational, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe that she was the thief. He had no idea how it would affect the two other cases he was dealing with, but he knew he had to help her prove her innocence.

  Behind her glasses, her eyes were big and round. They looked at him with a combination of trust and pleading. She really did believe that he would find the ruby for her, and clear her name.

  She wasn’t the thief. Relief filled him.

  ‘I’ll do it.’ He bent his head to brush her lips with his, intending it as comfort and confirmation of the deal.

  Sinead’s lips were soft and sweet, with a hint of peach-flavoured lip balm. It was a contrast to how sharply she could speak and he allowed himself to enjoy the taste of her. The iron lady had a soft centre. For a moment, he thought she was going to pull back, maybe even slap him. Instead she leaned into his kiss and tentatively returned it.

  She parted her lips under his, allowing him a tantalizing taste of her mouth.

  Without warning, hunger roared through him. This wasn’t enough, would never be enough. Niall pulled Sinead into his arms, enjoying the feel of her body against his much bigger one. She might be small, but she wasn’t delicate. Through her bulky clothes, he could feel her vitality and resilience.

  He slid his hand into her hair, holding her head still so that he could deepen the kiss. He tightened his grip and tilted her head back, changing the angle. She gasped, but didn’t resist
. Niall slanted his mouth across hers, eager to taste it. She moaned slightly, the tiny sound egging him on. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, invading it.

  Her mouth rose hesitantly to touch his, giving him silent permission to carry on. God, she was so sweet. How had he missed it? He swept his tongue across hers while tightening his arms around her.

  His cock rose, hard and demanding, but he ignored it. Kissing Sinead required all his attention. He pulled back slightly, so that he could see her face, flushed and tempting.

  Her eyes opened. ‘What?’ she said, dazed.

  But he kissed her again before she could go on. This time, he sucked her lower lip into his mouth and nipped it. She jerked but didn’t recoil. He soothed it, a tiny kiss asking forgiveness before plunging back into her mouth. She kissed him back.

  He could do this for hours. Days. Months. How had someone as sharp and controlled as Sinead O’Sullivan concealed this much sweetness and passion?

  She moved so that her breasts were pressed against him. They were round and lush. He had felt them while he was in her bed that morning and was impatient to see them in daylight. With her colouring, they’d be pale and delicate, and would mark when he sucked on them.

  He couldn’t wait. He slid a hand beneath her sweater, eager to examine them more carefully. The bra she wore underneath was some sort of lace, and he could feel her nipple rising, hard and proud, into his hand. His mouth watered for the taste of her.

  A disapproving cough sounded, alerting him to the presence of a couple of elderly walkers and reminding him where he was. Out in the open, on a seat on a walking trail that saw thousands of people pass every day. From the expression on the faces of the Swiss couple, he had already gone too far.

  With an effort, he set her away from him, but held her upright until her breathing steadied and she had command of herself again.

  God help him, he loved seeing her like this, all dazed and uncertain, with her lips slightly bruised and her hair mussed. He wondered what it would look like spread over his pillow. He was determined to find out, and soon.

  Unlike most redheads, her eyelashes and eyebrows were dark, giving her face definition and making those startling eyes even more dramatic. Perhaps that was why she wore such unflattering glasses. Eyes like that could get a girl into trouble.

  ‘You’re staring,’ she said.

  ‘Eyes like yours should be illegal,’ he said.

  For once, he silenced her. She opened her mouth but no words came out. He liked this feeling.

  ‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’ But her prim tone didn’t deceive him; the half smile pulling at her lips told another story.

  ‘I’m on to you.’

  Her expression changed for a moment.

  ‘You know that if you went to work with eyes like that, and your hair loose, no one would believe you had a brain in your head,’ he continued. ‘You deliberately dress down so that you can be taken seriously.’

  ‘I dress appropriately for my job,’ she protested, but he could see she was pleased.

  ‘And the glasses? Your eyes aren’t that bad. You could probably manage without them.’

  She shrugged. ‘I’m safe to cross the road without them, if that’s what you mean, but I can’t read road signs at a distance. And I don’t find contacts comfortable to wear for long periods. Glasses are not a big deal.’

  ‘They hide your eyes, and that’s a crime.’

  He took her arm and they walked together back along the path. Now, in spite of the sexual tension simmering between them, they were more relaxed. They stopped at a lakeside restaurant for an early lunch.

  Sinead busied herself mixing vinegar and lemon juice and a sinful drop of oil on her salad, before she looked over at Niall’s plate. After the workout at the gym, the steak looked large and appetizing.

  ‘That’s a big steak.’

  Niall cut into it. ‘Hey, I’m a big man!’

  Oh, he was. He made her feel small and delicate.

  ‘There’s a lot of me to keep up.’

  That phrase called to mind an image from her bedroom earlier that day that heated her cheeks. Not one she wanted to think about when he was sitting across the table from her. ‘Haven’t you heard that too much protein is bad for you?’ she asked instead.

  He put down his knife and fork. ‘You don’t buy all that crap, do you? It’s cheap processed low-fat food that will kill you.’ He looked at her plate in disgust. ‘How small a portion of chicken can you eat? It’s not big enough for a cat.’

  It did look small beside his lavish meal, but she wouldn’t admit it. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my chicken. At least it’s healthy.’

  ‘It wouldn’t keep an ant alive. You need feeding up.’

  To her mortification, he looked her up and down, bending over and pushing the tablecloth aside so he could examine her jean-clad thighs.

  ‘You have great legs.’

  She jerked the tablecloth down. ‘Keep your hands above the table where I can see them.’

  ‘Spoilsport.’ But he didn’t look upset.

  ‘It’s the red meat talking. You have testosterone overload.’

  ‘Come on, you’d be upset if I didn’t have enough testosterone to appreciate a woman with sexy thighs. Have you ever considered wearing stockings and a suspender belt?’

  She froze. That was a staple part of Lottie’s costume. ‘Is that all you think about? Sex?’ she demanded. She took a gulp of wine, and Niall re-filled her glass.

  ‘No, I also think about guns and blowing stuff up. Particularly those hideous clothes you wear.’

  ‘What’s wrong with my clothes?’ she asked, offended. Her clothes might not be fashionable, but they were good quality and comfortable.

  He pointed at her with his fork. ‘That baggy thing drowns you. You might have no breasts at all. And the stuff you wear to work makes you look fifty. You’re allowed to wear sexy stuff when you’re off-duty.’

  ‘I have to dress seriously, if I want to be taken seriously.’ He had no idea what it was like being a woman in a male-dominated world.

  ‘You take it too far.’ Maybe he realized he was pissing her off. He cut a piece of his steak. ‘Here, try a bite.’

  ‘Are you kidding? There’s blood on it.’ She hated blood. The sight of it made her feel queasy.

  ‘It’s rare, the way it should be.’

  ‘What did you tell the waiter – shave its ass and take its horns off?’ She looked into her glass in surprise. How much had she drunk? Maybe she should have eaten more breakfast. ‘Sorry, this has gone straight to my head. I haven’t eaten much all day …’

  ‘So you’re a cheap date? I must remember that.’ He looked way too happy about it.

  She couldn’t resist payback. ‘I bet all your dates are cheap, especially if they wear skimpy clothes.’

  He winced. ‘Some of those are damned expensive.’

  Sinead speared a leaf of lamb’s lettuce and then wondered what to do with it. ‘You pay too? My. My. You get more appealing by the minute.’

  The waiter cleared away their plates and brought them coffee she had no memory of ordering.

  Niall peered at her over the edge of his cup. ‘So how long is it since you got lucky?’

  She spluttered a mouthful of coffee over the table. ‘Lucky? Some of us have more to think about than sex.’

  He would probably laugh at her if she said it was more than a year. Or that the encounter had left her edgy and unsatisfied and she had spent hours staring at the ceiling hoping he would wake up and go home.

  ‘That long, huh?’

  ‘What do you mean that long? I’ll have you know that I … I … I don’t want to talk about this.’ She wanted to smack him.

  ‘Oh yeah, it’s been a loooong time, hasn’t it?’

  She looked around her at the other tables. They were definitely attracting attention. ‘Stop that, people are staring.’

  ‘Sure they are, at your sexy thighs.’

 
‘Oh. You are infuriating.’

  ‘One of my best qualities,’ he agreed.

  Sinead huffed a breath and turned her attention to her coffee, pretending to ignore him, but each time she risked a glance at him across the table, he was smiling.

  At the car park, they parted company. She would go back to her apartment and tidy it up, while he would return to the museum to start his investigation.

  On his second visit to Rheinbach, Niall was again struck by the contrast between the building’s fairy tale exterior and old-fashioned reception area – the main hallway’s marble floor, its panelled walls, the classical statues on either side of the cash desk – and its state-of-the-art security system. Once inside, the display rooms were modern, with hidden lighting and security cameras monitoring the glass cases where the more valuable items were housed.

  Niall examined an exhibit of rubies of different sizes and clarity and wondered what their combined value might be.

  Günter Rheinbach was eager to show him the case where the Fire of Autumn had been displayed. It had a special security system, more complex than the rest, with an access code that only Günter was supposed to know.

  Back in the lobby, one other old-fashioned feature was a flesh and blood security guard who checked everyone who entered or left the building. Jean-Baptiste Moutier was nervous about speaking to Niall, but certain about what had happened the night the ruby disappeared. ‘Mlle O’Sullivan came in, signed the book and went to her office.’ He held out the book for Niall to see.

  Niall flipped through it. Sinead had a pattern of working at night, often calling in and doing a couple of hours when the museum was closed. He examined the signature and frowned. It looked the same, but there was something a little off. He’d have an expert examine it, he decided.

  ‘Are you sure it was her?’ he asked Moutier. ‘It was a cold night, everyone was wearing bulky clothes. Could you be mistaken?’

  ‘Oh no. I see her often. I could not mistake her. Nice lady, always asks about my daughter’s dance classes.’ He frowned. ‘She wished me “Good night” that night, but I don’t remember her asking about Michelle.’