Murder by Sarah Pinborough Page A

respect – as long as you do that, there’s no reason to be afraid of them. I’ve spent some of the best summers of my childhood messing around on rivers. But I was always careful.’
    ‘Did you go out in a rowing boat?’
    ‘Sure I did.’
    ‘Can we go in a rowing boat one day?’
    ‘As long as I can persuade your mother,’ Kane said.
    ‘Uncle Thomas never takes me on the river. I think he hates it as much as she does.’ James paused. ‘Uncle Thomas doesn’t play with me very much.’
    ‘He’s a very busy man,’ Edward said, ‘and he works very hard. But I know he loves you.’
    They climbed the slick steps in a comfortable silence and left the river behind.
    *
    Edward Kane had never really considered children – they were in his future somewhere, just like a sensible wife was; after all, he’d need a son to leave his business to – but he’d never spent any time with them. He swung James up in his arms, making the boy giggle. He was happy to be able to give him some freedom from the stuffy confines of his London life for a few moments. He had discovered that he enjoyed little James’ company. Despite his words, he wasn’t sure that Thomas Bond did. The doctor had been busy with a murder case for much of the time since his return from Southampton, but on the few occasions they’d all been together, he’d seen how the doctor avoided the child where he could. It was strange, considering how much he clearly loved Juliana. Kane couldn’t help it, but that love bothered him: he had all the respect in the world for Bond as a man and a professional, but the idea of Juliana and him as a couple revolted him. If he was honest with himself, he had to admit that what rankled him was less Bond’s feelings towards Juliana than hers for the doctor: she might think she loved him, sure, but it was surely a love born of obligation and gratitude. They were friends who loved each other, and he feared she was in danger of confusing that with being lovers.
    Juliana. If anyone should be her lover then it should be him. He knew that without doubt. He should have been back in New York by now, but he’d rented some offices and hired a lawyer so he could continue his business while in London, in order to stay longer. His father would be spinning in his grave to know that his son was turning his world around to accommodate his feelings for a woman – but the good thing about graveswas that they were final. His father could twist and turn as much as he wanted; his son no longer had to listen to him. Edward Kane was very much a grown man, and he could do as he pleased. However, neither was he still quite the rebel of his youth: he was not ignoring his business and had in fact made some sound new investments whilst he was here. He freely admitted the business had become an adventure in itself, and he enjoyed it. He was also enjoying London in all its vibrancy and excitement.
    And the most vibrant part of it was undoubtedly Juliana: Jim Harrington’s wife.
    As if on cue, she opened the front door to them and sighed dramatically at their wind-fresh faces and beaming grins.
    ‘I got rocks!’ James held up his small pail.
    ‘So I can see.’
    Kane put the boy down and he ran inside.
    ‘I hope he didn’t go in the water,’ Juliana said.
    ‘In this weather? Are you kidding me?’ He kept his tone light and she smiled.
    ‘I had better get you some coffee before you go back into town. You must be freezing.’
    ‘Maybe put a little brandy in it too,’ he said, closing the door and wiping down his feet. He watched her as she walked away, her slim hips moving from side to side behind her bustle. She was not like the American society ladies of New York, who were all so self-aware, conscious of every movement, the social standing of each new acquaintance, and especially of their own attractiveness in comparison with others. They were sharp: even when stripped naked and sweating with lust – and there had been plenty of occasions