Sophie didn’t baulk at the inflection.
‘To clear my name,’ Tom said, not looking at Nella.
‘Ian was arrested, not you.’
‘Youaccused me of killing Clarkson.’
Nella’s face burned. ‘Yeah, well, I ...’Didn’t think you cared about what I think.
‘Save your grovelling,’ her brother deadpanned. ‘At this point, remember, I knew they had arrested your workmate, Ivan.’
‘Ian.’
‘Him. Andyouthought it was me in the billiard room, with the knife.’
Nella swallowed.
‘But in this game ofCluedo, my cards pointed to Lockridge.’
‘Oliver?’
‘I told you Concetta had seen him loitering around the property, trying to talk to you. The email Lieu had about moving to Donna Rayne’s law firm didn’t make sense to me – there was no previous thread about a job offer or any contracts. And I looked her up. From where he was sitting in his current partnership, moving to Rayne’s firm would have been a sideways career move, if not a step down.’
‘Of courseyourbrain jumped straight tohe was killed because of business.’ Nella didn’t mention she’d once had similar suspicions that Oliver was involved in Clarkson’s death.
Tom sniffed. ‘Randall told me Lockridge had seen Clarkson in his office with a blonde woman, but I think we both know he’s more partial to brunettes. But what wasmostinteresting was the email from Kingsley about a story for the local paper.’
Nella and Tom’s definitions ofinterestinghad always been stratospherically different.
‘That was about the charity auction, wasn’t it?’ Nella asked Sophie, forgetting momentarily they were sworn enemies.
‘No,’ Sophie said. ‘I had to be discreet – I put the charity auction as the subject line, but I was interviewing Clarkson about his decision to take over Bindi Tours.’
‘His dad’s company?’ Nella said. ‘How was he going to run a whole tour business with his job?’
‘He wasn’t. He wasn’t leaving Lieu & Lockridge, Nella, he was leaving the law altogether.’
‘But Clarkson hated his dad’s business,’ Nella declared. ‘They argued about it constantly! He moved to Perth to get away from it all.’
She was burning up. Fury at Clarkson, at Tom, at Sophie for not telling her sooner, at Jett for not holding on longer roiled through her, hollowing her out.
Jett.Shouldn’t they have heard something by now?
‘People change,’ Sophie said.
‘Bullshit. They just get crappier at pretending.’
‘Well,’ the journalist said carefully, ‘maybe this was who Clarkson always was. He just needed a bit more time to figure it out.’
‘Doesn’t fucking matter, does it?’ Nella said. ‘He’s dead. Yuze will be gone soon too – there’s no one to take over the company.’
‘I’m hoping when the article’s published it could generate some interest,’ Sophie said, but she didn’t sound convinced.
Nella turned back to Tom. ‘So in trying to prove Oliver guilty, all you came back with was a live rattlesnake’—she nodded at Sophie—‘and a nice little tale of the prodigal son to guilt me into helping you with our dead father’s business?’
Tom stood. ‘That’s not what this is, Antonella.’
But she didn’t stop. ‘Jett is in there fighting for his life and you’re trying to talk business with me? Didn’t you hear what I did? For us, foryou.’
