Grainger noticed Le Claire. “Thank God you’re here. I’ve been attacked.”
Le Claire ignored that for the moment. “Mr Grainger, can I take it that you have informed these gentlemen of your marital status?”
Nils shouted, “He’s a bloody liar. Mum wouldn’t get married without telling us.”
Grainger rounded on his supposed stepson. “Well, she did. And I for one am bloody sick of keeping it quiet. That’s my wife lying in there. I love her, and I have rights.”
“What rights?” Rudy’s tone was calm and even.
Grainger spluttered. “I will be acting on my wife’s behalf regarding her assets, including the house, the land and the art collection. Don’t think you’re going to be selling them out from under her.”
“Who said anything about selling?”
“I know you wanted her to sell the land. I also know you wanted her to hand the proceeds to you. Well, it isn’t happening. Your mum didn’t want that, and I won’t be happy to sanction it unless I know a great deal more about why you need the money.”
Rudy retaliated, “It’s none of your business. Stop this nonsense. Christ, what a joke.”
Richard shook his head slowly as he pulled a folded document from his jacket pocket. He handed it to Rudy. “That’s our marriage licence. Look.”
Rudy kept a watchful eye on Grainger as he unfolded the paper. He glanced down, eyes scanning the text. Le Claire saw the exact moment Rudy realised this was a genuine document. He froze, the only movement a tiny tremor in his hand.
Nils said, “What’s wrong? It’s obviously a bloody fake. Let me see.” His hand shot out, but Rudy pulled back and threw the paper at Grainger.
“Leave it. It looks genuine, but we can get that sorted later.” He ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Why the hell would he lie?”
Nils broke free of his brother’s grasp with an irritated shrug. “I can think of several million reasons.” He rounded on Grainger. “You bastard. My mum is going to be fine, and she can talk—and act—for herself.”
“She’s in a coma, and I’m not having you two think you can get a power of attorney and sell everything from beneath her. I’ll be looking after Eva’s business. Her clients will need to know what’s happened, and arrangements will need to be made to release stock she was holding.”
Rudy interjected, “No need. Chloe will look into that for us. I guess as she works for you, it’s keeping it all in the family, isn’t it?”
“Good idea. I’ll get Eva’s laptop and pass it on to Chloe.”
Nils said, “I saw Chloe earlier and gave her the laptop. It’s all under control.”
Grainger’s face darkened, his expression far away from his usual affable demeanour. “I see you’ve taken care of everything, even though it wasn’t your place to do so.”
“You’re the secret husband. It’s more our place to look after Mum’s stuff than yours.”
Le Claire decided he’d better step in. “I hate to get involved in a family matter, but this isn’t the place for your discussions. Take it away from here. Oh, and no one will be attempting to sell Mrs Englebrook’s assets. We’re looking at attempted murder, and I’m searching for someone with a motive. You lot are giving me plenty to think about.”
He turned to Rudy and Nils. “I’d like to speak to you at the station, please. Say 3:00 p.m. this afternoon?” Shocked, they nodded and left.
Grainger quickly concealed a gleeful smirk. Le Claire took some pleasure in his next words. “I’ll talk to you later as well. I’m not done with you. Not by a long shot.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Chloe opened her front door and faced a smiling Riley. “Oh, hello.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded high-pitched and false.
“Hi yourself. Can I come in?”
“Of course. Sure.” She moved to the side with a sweep of her hand and indicated he enter. He followed her down the narrow hallway and into the lounge. Her heart was racing at breakneck speed, and she was sure her face was scarlet, but she didn’t know what to say. Less than twelve hours ago they’d been naked in bed. She was still trying to work out what had come over her. And was putting it down to the tumultuous times. “Would you like tea or coffee? I’ve got some beer if you want one. Mind you, it’s a bit early for alcohol. Ha-ha.” She knew she was prattling on but didn’t know how to stop.
She reached for the kettle but stopped as Riley’s hand trapped hers. He moved closer.
“Stop fussing. I had to see you. Are you okay? I mean about last night?”
She hadn’t thought it could be possible to turn any redder, but obviously, she’d been wrong. “Of course, I’m okay. I guess it was the wine or maybe the shock, but we’ve known each other too long to let it stand in the way of our friendship.”
“I disagree. I hadn’t drunk too much, and I wasn’t in shock. We’ve been skirting around this since we first met. I know it’s not great timing, but I’d like to see more of you.”
She stared at him, not entirely understanding what he was saying. She resisted the temptation to joke, to mock what had occurred and ask if he hadn’t seen enough of her already. “You mean like, go out with each other?”
“Yeah, I do. My head is messed up about Mum, and I won’t rest until we find out what happened and whoever did this pays. But in other ways, I’ve got real clarity for the first time in years. You mean a lot to me, Chloe, and you always have. I don’t know when it changed from just liking you, obviously fancying you, but it’s changed to something deeper. I don’t think I can do without you around.”
“Don’t you think that’s got something to do with what has happened, though? You’ve had a tragedy, and maybe you’re reading something into me and you that isn’t there.”
He reached out and brushed her hair away from her eyes, the simple gesture sending shivers of desire coursing through her. She swallowed, hard, her eyes never leaving his. His tongue flicked out and licked his lips, drawing her attention to them. She stared for a moment. He came closer, bent his head and covered her mouth with his. She gave in and went with it, meeting him kiss for kiss, caress for caress. She didn’t protest when he pushed up her T-shirt, his hands journeying upwards with teasing, feather-light touches. She followed suit, running her hands over his back, pushing his T-shirt upwards as she revelled in the feel of his skin. He pulled back and ripped his shirt over his head. He placed his hands either side of her waist and skimmed upwards until he clasped her breasts, and she could feel the warmth of his hands through the delicate material of her bra. She shivered. He was kissing her again, whispering against her mouth, “Let’s go to the bedroom.” She didn’t even think to deny him, simply took him by the hand and led him across the room. She couldn’t blame the wine this time.
◆◆◆
Le Claire’s head was thumping as the different scenarios played out in his mind. He turned to Dewar. “What do you think?”
“Vautier wanted the land deal to go through. Perhaps Kurt had tried to pull out. Vautier would have thought it would go to the sons, both of whom seem in agreement with the deal. He had a motive in wanting Kurt out of the way.”
“But the land went to Susan Jones. Who didn’t want it developed.”
“Vautier says Rudy let him know after Susan’s death that the land should revert to the estate. What if he knew that before she died? If he didn’t, he may even have thought he could do a deal with Riley? Money talks.”
Le Claire said, “Perhaps. But the land goes to Eva, who does not want to sell.”
“And if something happens to Eva, most people would assume her sons would inherit. They’d be in line for plenty of assets on Eva’s death. And we must remember they both believed that they would have inherited the manor, which they thought included the land, from their father.”
“And they may have known that Susan’s death within the prescribed time would see the land revert to their mother.”
“Only they didn’t know that she had married Grainger.”
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“Who is also high on the list.” Le Claire ignored the pounding in his temple. “The sons, either of them, may have wanted to inherit the land, but surely they hardly needed the money. Although Grainger commented that he thought they did need access to cash, and quickly.”
“From what I’ve seen of this island, there are some who always want more—even when they’ve got more than enough.”
She was right. But it wasn’t peculiar to Jersey—that was the way of the world. “Agreed. So that’s three suspects with motives.”
“What about Grainger?”
“I can see that he may have wanted Kurt out of the picture, but unless he knew the contents of the will—and I’m not saying he didn’t—then what did he believe he had to gain by Susan’s death?” They pondered the question. “I can’t immediately see anything. Let’s come back to that.”
“Fine. I’ll look into it.”
He paused, considered something else. “Of course, there is another possible motive. The letter Susan Jones sent Kurt talks about an affair.”
“Perhaps Jessica killed Kurt and Susan. Wronged wife and all that.”
“The letter seemed to suggest that the affair, or whatever it was, took place some time ago.”
“Time means nothing to the jealous type, plus Susan and Kurt were still extremely close. And there is little love lost between Jessica and Eva.” Dewar visibly shivered. “But Kurt’s death was unspeakably vile—to burn someone alive, I can’t even understand who could do that. Susan’s was incredibly violent, and the attempt on Eva was pure cowardice. The killer wouldn’t even have needed to be present.”
“Perhaps Kurt’s death wasn’t planned, a snap decision to cross a line. Susan’s, well, that was rage—real rage. Eva’s shows someone who is getting organised and pre-planning.”
Dewar said what he was thinking, “They’re getting used to this. They could kill again.”
◆◆◆
“I’m sorry, Rudy. I don’t really know why I didn’t tell you before.” Angela’s tearful eyes were shadowed and contrite, and her words apologetic. The past few days had caused a maelstrom of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He was near to losing the business and would be forced to navigate a new path without his parents around. He was due at the police station soon, and a knot of worry burrowed away deep inside. Now he also had Angela’s betrayal to contend with. For betrayal it was.
“Nor do I. Why didn’t you come to me in the first place? I would have helped you.” He hated the beseeching plea in his voice.
“I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t. What would you have thought of me?”
“A damn sight more than I do now. It feels like you were in collusion with my dad. I’m sorry too, but you went behind my back and had a secret with my father. How the hell do you think that makes me feel? Daddy stepping in to help my girlfriend while I’m floating about in blissful ignorance.”
“I needed the money. Kurt said to keep quiet. I had no choice, no choice.”
Rage erupted like a fiery geyser. “You know what my dad was like,” he yelled. “This was probably some mind-fuck of his. Getting something in place he could taunt me with later.”
She was sobbing now. Not pretty feel-sorry-for-me tears, but a hiccupping, sloppy, red-nosed torrent. She reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled away. “Don’t touch me, not right now.”
She slowly drew back, her tears stanched. Her face was blotchy and her makeup in disarray, but when she spoke, her voice was steady. “I know it was unforgivable, but I truly had no option. You ever been there? With your back against a wall and everything collapsing around you? That’s where I found myself. I was drowning, and Kurt threw me a lifeline. I took it, but it literally kills me to know I was keeping something from you. Please forgive me. I promise it’ll never happen again. Please.”
He stared at her, unblinking, for a long moment as his mind spiralled and twirled in a kaleidoscope of jarring, contradictory thoughts. He could hear the blood racing, pounding in his ears. And one thing stood out amongst everything else. His dad had been a class manipulator. How could he blame Angela? He was no innocent himself.
No, he couldn’t blame her. But would he entirely forgive her?
“Come here.” He held out his arms, and she stumbled towards him, a hopeful look chasing the darkness from her. “Don’t ever keep anything from me again. Don’t ever lie to me.”
She sank against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her smile wobbled as she leaned back and looked up at him. “I won’t. I promise.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Le Claire brandished the papers given to him by Hunter as he addressed the team. “These have come in from Louise Unsworth-Murphy’s lawyers. It is all the paperwork they collated on her father’s purchases of art. He apparently bought several pieces from Englebrook. These were all validated by the purchaser’s own art valuer prior to delivery of the paintings.”
Hunter said, “And each of those named pieces is still listed as being in the Englebrook collection.” He held up a printed list. “I also called Richard Grainger, and he confirmed that these paintings are physically still in the collection.”
Masters said, “So it looks like Englebrook could have sold more fake paintings?”
Le Claire nodded his agreement. “It looks that way. The buyer’s daughter did say that they had only had the last painting analysed because of the high price paid for it and that it was a recent purchase. They would have assumed that the art consultants carried out their verifications before any purchase was finalised. And they found a fake had been substituted for the real painting.”
He glanced at Dewar. “Where are we on getting an art expert?”
“Central admin have located one. She’s available and will be here tomorrow.”
“Her findings will be crucial. Englebrook substituted a fake for the real painting in at least one instance. It isn’t too much of a leap to imagine it being more widespread. That’s what we have to concentrate on.”
He checked his watch. “Come on, Dewar. We’ve got an appointment to keep.”
◆◆◆
As predetermined, Le Claire would speak to Rudy in one interview room, accompanied by Hunter, while Dewar and Masters would speak to Nils. His thought process was that the brothers wouldn’t necessarily be acting together, and even if they were, he suspected that Nils was the weaker of the two. By having Dewar interview him, someone who Nils saw as Le Claire’s sidekick, he hoped Nils would be lulled into a false sense of security. That was his desired outcome.
He looked through the small glass viewing slot. Rudy’s colour was high, he repeatedly pulled at his shirt collar, and even from here Le Claire could see a small bead of perspiration across his top lip. However, he knew from experience that may mean nothing. Most law-abiding people had never been in a police station, far less been entertained in one of the stark interview rooms.
Rudy looked up and pointedly looked at his watch as he entered.
Le Claire took the intended rebuke. He was playing good cop now. “Apologies for the delay. This is DI Masters. He’ll be sitting in on our chat today.”
Masters nodded and took a seat, his expression giving nothing away.
“I had expected that you would be talking to me with my brother?”
“Did you? Well, that’s not how we do things.” He quickly ran through the formalities of recording the discussion. “Thank you for your time. To set the scene, please note that our conversation will centre around the sudden deaths of your father, Kurt Englebrook, his financial advisor, Susan James, and the serious attack on your mother, Eva Englebrook, which is being treated as attempted murder. This is a preliminary discussion. Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes, I do. I am happy to cooperate in any way that helps you catch whoever has done this.”
He was pale, but his gaze was direct and unflinching.
“I’d like to start at the end, as it were. You have recently been apprised that your moth
er had secretly married Richard Grainger. And in an argument with that gentleman earlier today, I overheard him mention money troubles that you had been experiencing, and that you have been trying to pressure your mother into selling the assets she inherited. Is that correct?”
“Grainger is full of half-truths and shadowed perception. That’s not exactly how it was.”
“Then illuminate me.”
Rudy took a moment to reply. “We may need to put a little money into the business to tide it over for a while. Neither Nils nor I have access to ready cash. So yes, we spoke to our mother. It was the land we were interested in her selling. My mother had previously mentioned that she may have to sell some of the artwork, but that’s a much longer process than signing a deal with Harry Vautier. Harry has investors lined up and a fair bit of his own money involved as well. We would receive an initial payment for the land plus a substantial share of the profits when the apartments are sold. The upfront payment would be enough to get us through the immediate issues.”
“What I don’t understand is that your father was supposed to be wealthy. Surely he would have left other cash or liquid assets?”
“It will take some time to go through probate. And until then, we can’t access any of those assets. However, Harry was willing for the owner of the land, being my mother, to sign a contract saying that once probate was completed and they had full title to the land that it would immediately pass into the name of the development company that Harry has set up. But the initial payment would be made at the time of signing the contract. Harry trusts us.”
“Either that or he is desperate.”
◆◆◆
“Here. Have some water, Mr Englebrook. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
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