by K E O'Connor
“So, last night was interesting.” Helen shut my bedroom door behind her, having come from her room after getting showered and dressed.
“Plenty of suspects in Lonnie’s death,” I said.
“The ex-wife and the wife,” said Helen.
“And the older brother,” I said. “He’d benefit if they can find this gold. And Michael. And Carson. We’ve got so many suspects to investigate.”
“Sylvia is clever,” said Helen. “She didn’t let on she’d told us about the gold, and everything last night could have been made up.”
“And with no evidence of actual gold, we’ve got nothing useful to go on.”
“With Lonnie dead, the family must be desperate to know where he hid it.”
“It can’t be easy to hide so many gold bars. You wouldn’t be able to hide them in a bag in the back of the closet.”
“Maybe Lonnie’s got a secret room in the house where the gold is stashed,” said Helen.
“If the police were that interested in them for the heist, they’d have searched every inch of this place,” I said, “including pulling up drawings of house designs and making sure there were no places the gold could be tucked away. I bet Gunner can tell us where they searched.”
Helen groaned and sank onto my bed. “Don’t go getting him involved in this.”
“He’s already involved,” I said. “You know I asked him to look into the Cornells.”
“Has he found out anything useful?” asked Helen.
“Let’s find out.” I rang Gunner’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. I hung up and tried Zach. He answered after the second ring.
“I was about to call you,” he said. “Wanted to make sure nothing bad happened to you, given you’re working for a criminal mastermind.”
“They’re not masterminds,” I said. “And I’m after Gunner. Wanted to see if he had an update about the Cornells.”
“He’s with me at the house. And he’s been looking into them, and it’s not good news.”
I sucked in a breath. “What did he find out?”
“The family is scarily hardcore. You need to get out of there before something bad happens to you.”
“Define scarily hardcore?” I looked at Helen and saw the worried expression on her face. It mirrored my own concerns. “They’ve mentioned a few things from their past. You’re not going to tell me they’re some kind of serial killer family.”
“Nothing like that,” said Zach. “But they all have records, even the old lady.”
“What for?”
“Give me the phone.” I could hear Gunner’s voice in the background.
“Hold on a second,” said Zach.
“Hey, Lorna,” said Gunner. “Listen, this family has been on our radar for years. The Cornells have got their fingers in lots of unsavoury pies.”
“Like what?”
“Money-laundering, robbery, GBH. They used to run a car racketeering business in the seventies but moved into robbing security vans instead. That’s where they made their big money. They’re not a family to be messed with.”
“I’m figuring that out,” I said.
“Have they caused you any trouble?” Gunner’s tone was sharp.
“They’ve been good to us,” I said. “But it’s an odd setup.”
“I imagine it is,” said Gunner. “Be careful. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of any of them.”
“We’re doing our best not to,” I said.
“What about Helen?” asked Gunner. “I know what a firecracker she can be when someone annoys her. Make sure she keeps her mouth shut.”
“Helen isn’t going to pay any attention to what you tell her,” I said.
“What’s he saying about me?” hissed Helen.
“He’s telling you to be your usual charming self,” I said to her.
Helen made an unimpressed grumbling sound and folded her arms over her chest. Gunner always knew how to press her buttons.
“I’m not joking around here,” said Gunner. “If you think you’re in trouble, get out of there.”
“Will do,” I said. I decided not to mention we still had no idea where Helen’s car was, and if we had to escape, it would be on foot.
“But if you are staying, I need your help,” said Gunner.
“With what?” I asked.
“Now you’re on the inside with the Cornells, you can find out information we can use to get them for the crimes they’ve committed.”
My heart sped up. “I’m not sure we can do that. You just told us how dangerous the family is and that we need to be careful. Isn’t poking around, asking questions about their criminal backgrounds, the opposite of that?”
“Hold on,” said Gunner.
I could hear Zach’s low murmuring in the background and could imagine what he thought of the idea of us snooping on the Cornells.
“It’s safe,” said Gunner. “All you need to do is have a discreet dig around and report back anything you find to me. Don’t go looking for anything incriminating, but if you stumble across it, make a copy and give it to me.”
I still hated the idea. “What sort of thing do you want us to look for?”
“Anything to do with the robberies,” said Gunner. “They’re wanted for a twenty-five-million-pound gold heist. That’s what we’re really interested in.”
“Wow! A gold heist.” I felt bad playing dumb with Gunner, but without any proof, there was no point getting him excited.
“We know they were involved, but they’re clever, and it’s got their stamp all over it. They had family members working on the inside, who conveniently disappeared the day of the gold heist.”
I covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “The gold heist story is real,” I said to Helen.
“We already knew that,” said Helen. “Hasn’t Gunner got anything useful for us?”
“What are you saying?” asked Gunner.
“I don’t know how much help we’ll be in terms of hunting out the gold,” I said to him. “If the police couldn’t get anywhere, then what’s to say we will?”
“You don’t need to find the gold, but you’re on the inside,” said Gunner. “You can look around places and listen in on conversations. We’ve never had a chance to do that. The family closes down every time they’re questioned. In the end, we had to shut the investigation, but no one was happy about doing that. The first sign of fresh evidence and I’m getting it re-opened. You and Helen can help with that.”
There was the sound of scuffling on the other end of the phone, followed by a muffled grunt. “Lorna, you don’t have to do this. Ignore Gunner; he’s not thinking straight.” It was Zach.
“I know we don’t have to,” I said. “But since we’re here, we might as well have a look around. And I was planning to have a poke around anyway and see what I could find out about Lonnie’s death.”
“It’s not worth the risk,” said Zach. “If any of the family discover what you’re doing, you’ll be in trouble.”
“You make it sound like we’re in the middle of a gangster movie.” I tried to make light of our situation so as not to worry Zach, even though I’d thought the exact same thing. “If there’s a hint of trouble, we’ll get out.”
“I don’t want you putting yourselves at risk,” said Zach, “not over something so trivial.”
“Twenty-five million pounds worth of missing gold isn’t trivial,” said Gunner in the background.
“It’s not as important as Lorna or Helen,” said Zach.
“We’re going to stay for now. There’s no danger,” I said to Zach. “And if we do find anything useful, I’ll report back to Gunner. Don’t worry about us. We’ll keep our heads down and stay out of trouble.”
“I’ve heard you say that before,” grumbled Zach. “And I’ve also discovered you getting up to all sorts of mischief.”
“Which is why you love me,” I said. “You’d be bored of a girlfriend who did everything by the book.”
“Now yo
u’re making yourself sound like a criminal,” said Zach.
“I promise you, we don’t want any trouble. We’ll look around subtly, and any problems, you’ll be the first to know and can swoop in and save us.”
“Make sure you do tell me,” said Zach. “Hang on. Gunner’s got something else he needs to tell you.”
I waited as the phone was passed to Gunner.
“Lorna, you and Helen keep a look out for anything about rented spaces, places where the gold could be stashed.”
“Got it.”
“And report back on any conversations the family has about meetings away from the house.”
“Why is that important?”
“The gang could be meeting to discuss tactics,” said Gunner. “Could be an opportunity to round them up and make one of them crack.”
“Okay, makes sense,” I said. “Anything else?”
“Well, if you discover any of the actual gold, I need to know.”
“Doubt that’s going to happen,” I said. “And if it does, I might disappear, along with Helen, to some tropical island for the rest of my life.”
Gunner chuckled. “And leave Zach behind? Not a chance.”
“I’ve always been tempted by a life of sand and sun.”
Gunner’s laughter faded. “Lorna, watch your back. Don’t put yourself at risk. If you don’t want to do this, I’ll understand.”
“Don’t worry. And I’ll keep an eye on Helen, as well, and make sure she doesn’t do anything daft.”
“As if I would,” grumbled Helen.
Gunner laughed again. “She always does daft things. That’s why I like her.”
I said goodbye to Zach and Gunner and hung up.
“So, what are we doing?” asked Helen. “Time to pack our bags and run?”
“No. It looks like we’re going undercover.”
Chapter 12
After the conversation with Gunner that morning, I was fired up to start hunting for clues to find the gold. But the day had been dull, and I hadn’t uncovered any of the family’s dark secrets while doing filing and checking the post.
I’d worked in the study all day, and Elita had drifted in and out, giving me more tasks to do and signing the letters I’d written. It was a normal day as a personal assistant. Definitely not the lifestyle of a glamorous undercover agent.
Elita was sprawled on the sofa in one corner of the study, gently snoring, after declaring she needed to do some thinking before dinner. In truth, it sounded as if she was sleeping off the aftereffects of last night’s party.
I still had a pile of thank you cards and funeral paperwork to deal with and was writing out some cheques for Elita to sign, when Lonnie popped up next to the sofa.
Flipper ran over, and Lonnie smiled down at him before turning his attention to Elita and prodding her with a finger.
“Leave her alone,” I whispered. “She had a hard night.”
Lonnie shrugged and continued to prod his sleeping ex-wife, who grunted in response and turned over, flinging one arm over her face as she did so.
“It’s your fault she’s not doing so well,” I said to Lonnie. “Get over here and tell me about the gold you stole.”
Lonnie’s mouth turned down and he shrugged, before giving Elita one final prod and then drifting towards me. He had a look on his face like a spoiled child told he couldn’t have his fifth bag of candy.
“Elita still loves you, you know,” I said to him. “You were lucky she didn’t drag you through the divorce court and take half of all this. She should have.”
Lonnie tilted his head, an expression of mock innocence on his face.
“That won’t work on me,” I whispered. “You should never have cheated on Elita. She’s a good woman. Better than you deserved.”
Lonnie looked back at Elita, his gaze shifting up and down her figure. He looked at me and nodded.
“And, you might like to consider where your current wife is,” I said to Lonnie. “She’s hardly pulling out all the stops to ensure everything runs smoothly around here. In fact, I barely see her unless there’s alcohol to be consumed or the possibility of discovering your hidden gold.”
Lonnie had the decency to dip his head. Maybe he was finally seeing through Chelsea’s extensive backcombing and false lashes.
I stood and shut the study door, before checking Elita was still sleeping. I returned to my seat and faced Lonnie. “I need to know about this gold you pinched. That is the key to your murder. There are a lot of people who’d benefit if they could find where it is.”
Lonnie nodded again.
“Was someone trying to get information out of you before you died about where the gold is hidden?”
Lonnie scratched his head and looked around the room.
“Could be they grew tired of you hiding things from them and decided to get you out of the way, so it leaves things clear for them to go hunting.”
Lonnie’s brow wrinkled, and he shook his head.
“No one was questioning you about the gold?”
He held his hands out.
“There’s no need to play innocent with me. Your mom told me about the gold heist,” I said. “And she tried to drop me in it by telling everyone I can see you. I like Sylvia, but she’s got to keep quiet about me being able to see you, or I’ll get fired.”
Lonnie snapped his fingers together, making the impression of a bird’s beak opening and shutting quickly.
“Don’t be rude about your mom. You stole that gold.”
Lonnie turned his back on me.
“Relax! You can’t get into trouble now; you’re dead, so you may as well admit you did it. And Ignatius as good as said he was involved, as well, butting in with unhelpful comments when your mom was telling me what happened.”
He turned around slowly and faced me, a look of resignation in his eyes.
“We need to find out who wants the gold the most, and you’ll have found your killer.”
Lonnie ran his hands through his dark hair several times before finally nodding.
“Good. So, you stole twenty-five million pounds of gold bars and hid them somewhere no one else would find them?”
Lonnie nodded.
Now, I was getting somewhere. “I’m guessing the gold is hidden away from the house, and you were doing something to it to turn it into usable funds.”
Lonnie raised his eyebrows.
“I’m more than a pretty face and an amazing typist.” I grinned at him. “I don’t know much about gold dealing, but I know you can’t stroll into a pawnbroker’s store with a pile of gold bars and ask to trade them in for cash. You have to do something to the gold in order to sell it, without people getting suspicious. More specifically, without the police getting suspicious.”
Lonnie pressed his lips together. He didn’t look happy about me bringing the police into the conversation.
“You need to be honest, or I can’t help you.” I rested my hands on top of the desk. “Let’s start with figuring out who’s the most resentful that you kept the gold from them.”
Lonnie looked at the ground.
“It has to be someone close to you,” I said, “someone who lives here. Given the amount of security in this house, no one would be able to sneak in without an alarm going off. If you had to pick one person from this family most likely to have killed you, who would you choose?”
Lonnie still refused to meet my gaze. I felt a twinge of sympathy for him; it must be hard to accept that the people you thought loved you might prefer you dead and your death means more to them than you being alive. Twenty-five million pounds would make the most honest person swerve off the right path.
“How about Elita? She’s cut up about the fact you treated her so poorly when you were married.” I glanced at Elita, who was still snoring on the sofa. “A woman scorned and all that, maybe you pushed her too far.”
Lonnie also looked at Elita and then shook his head.
“You did leave her for a younger woman. And you chea
ted on her more than once. That’s going to make anyone angry. She might not have planned to kill you. Perhaps she discovered you in the bath one night and her anger took over.”
That comment earned me another shrug. So far, so unhelpful.
“If you don’t think it was Elita, then what about Chelsea?” I asked. “You don’t seem happy in your choice of second wife. And as you saw for yourself yesterday, she’s interested in where you’ve hidden the gold. She could have married you to get her hands on it, and when you didn’t deliver, she got angry and decided to get you out of the way and claim what was hers as your widow.”
Lonnie drifted around the room. He seemed more interested in looking at the photographs of himself and his family than trying to find out who had the best motive to murder him.
I took a deep breath. “How about we try someone else. What about your right-hand man, Carson? He has a slimy dark streak. Every time he looks at me, I get the chills. It’s like he’s plotting some dubious deed in his mind, and he lets it seep out through his expression.”
Lonnie gave me a cheeky grin and gestured at a photograph on the desk. It showed a picture of Lonnie in his early twenties and a young looking Carson with a thick head of springy dark curls. They had their arms around each other and were grinning at the camera.
“Looks like you go back a long way,” I said. “Best friends can feel closer than family, can’t they?” I felt like that when it came to Helen. I couldn’t imagine her not being around, telling me off for wearing walking boots and cooking me amazing meals.
Lonnie smiled and looked at the picture some more.
“When lots of money is involved, people do strange things. It changes a person.”
Lonnie drifted away from the photo.
“If not Carson, how about Michael?” I asked. “He was your protector and is still looking out for your family.”
Lonnie shook his head sharply.
“How long have you known Michael?”
Lonnie held up his fingers and flashed them three times.
“Thirty years! He can’t be much older than that.”
Lonnie mimed a child standing next to him and then patted the imaginary child’s head.