Diamonds and Daggers

Home > Romance > Diamonds and Daggers > Page 9
Diamonds and Daggers Page 9

by Nancy Warren


  I’d felt something dark coming from the other side of that door. I suspected he had too.

  The ice house was an oval room about eight feet long and probably as high. It was built of brick and definitely cooler than the air above. There was a scent of damp down here, and remains of old straw scattered on the floor. A mound of what looked like old laundry was pushed up against one side. The caretaker grumbled about kids as he stomped over to the bundled bedding. He reached down to it and pulled at the bundle. An arm flopped onto the ground at his feet.

  “Come on, you, are you drunk?”

  He knelt and pulled more bedding away.

  I already had a bad feeling about this. The air felt heavy and dark to me. And the way Rafe had gone so still beside me, he knew too. There was more than a drunk student here.

  Then the maintenance guy let out a cry and jumped back. “That bloke’s not drunk. He’s dead.”

  “Don’t touch anything,” Theodore ordered. The maintenance guy backed away, looking only too relieved not to have to figure out what to do. Theodore turned the body only long enough to reveal the face. With a cry of horror and sadness, I recognized Bryce Teddington.

  Chapter 13

  “Oh dear,” Theodore said, looking down. “It’s a homicide now.”

  Rafe looked at him. “Before the police arrive, let’s make sure he doesn’t have the jewels on him.”

  Theodore nodded, though I think we all knew it was doubtful indeed that Bryce Teddington would be lying dead in an obscure location and still have the jewels.

  I couldn’t look, so I backed out and listened as the maintenance guy filled in the head of security, who didn’t look happy about this latest discovery. “We’ll have to call the police. Again.” And he glanced over at me as though this was my fault.

  Rafe and Theodore came out, and Rafe shook his head at my inquiring gaze. No jewels, then.

  “This changes everything,” I said, thinking aloud.

  Rafe nodded. “You’re right. The theory that Bryce Teddington acted alone and escaped with the jewels is obviously not true. He must have had an accomplice. But I wonder who that was. And where they are now.”

  I pointed at Theodore, but what I was really pointing at was the torn photograph that he still had in his possession. If there was an accomplice, my money was on that girl he’d been having that intense conversation with only minutes before I was attacked.

  He nodded. “It makes sense. It always seemed surprising to me that one man could knock you out, strip you of the jewels, and disappear so quickly. If he had an accomplice, that makes so much more sense.”

  I nodded. “They could have agreed to meet here later and share their haul. But what? They had an argument? She got greedy? And Bryce ended up dead.”

  Rafe took a moment to think. “Your theory doesn’t hold, Lucy. Why meet here? Whoever had those jewels would have wanted to get off campus as quickly as possible.” He looked down at the mound of earth, beneath which the poor man was lying there wrapped in sheets. The ice house had become his coffin.

  “Remember, we passed the laundry.” The wind lifted his black hair and ruffled it like affectionate fingers. “Didn’t you say there was a cart full of laundry in the hallway?”

  “Yes.” I swallowed. “Are you saying…?”

  He nodded. “I suspect someone had overheard your assignation. Bryce Teddington asked to meet you in an out-of-the-way location. Our murderer was already there when Bryce arrived. You’ve already told me that Bryce Teddington was an accountant and seemed like a very nervous individual. He would have got there first to make sure there was no chance of missing you. But the murderer was ahead of even him. The murderer took care of Bryce but, knowing you would be along shortly, couldn’t take the time to dispose of him properly.”

  I was staring at him in growing horror. “You mean the killer threw Bryce in the laundry like a used towel?”

  “I’m afraid so. In that cart of laundry you passed.”

  “Was he dead?”

  “Impossible to say. Hopefully the police will be able to determine that.”

  “And then all they had to do was wait for me to show up, bash me over the back of the head and take the jewels.”

  I felt sick and shaky, and my head began to throb where I’d been hit so hard. “Maybe that’s what he was telling that woman. That he was meeting me. But why didn’t she kill me?”

  “We don’t know she’s the killer. Let’s not jump to more conclusions. Whoever attacked you may have intended to kill you, but there wasn’t time.”

  My voice was slightly shaky as I said, “Because you showed up so fast.”

  “I told you. All you had to do was cry my name and I’d come to you.”

  “And did I?” I couldn’t even remember. I recalled the terrible pain and the light flashing in front of my eyes and then darkness. Had I cried out Rafe’s name on my way down?

  “I heard you call me.”

  Okay, I could make excuses all I liked, but when I had been falling into darkness, for all I knew the last word I would ever speak had been his name.

  The maintenance guy was left to stand guard over the ice house until the police arrived, and the rest of us went back inside the college.

  The director of security called the police and, since we hadn’t actually found the body, we thought it would be a good idea for us to leave. DI Chisholm and I had come across each other too often over dead bodies. And he and Rafe weren’t exactly BFFs. I thought it was best for me, Rafe and Theodore to take a back seat on this one.

  We got back into Rafe’s car, and Theodore pulled out the torn photograph and studied it again. He shook his head. “I can’t help the feeling that I know her from somewhere.”

  This was not surprising. The vampires had lived so long and come across so many people that they might see someone who looked vaguely like a person they’d known a couple of hundred years ago. Or, even if the acquaintance was more recent, there was a lot in the facial recognition database they had to sift through. Knowing this, I waited patiently. He squinted, got out the magnifying glass again. “I think her hair was different.” The nice thing about a private investigator was he tended to be an observant man. “But I can’t place her.”

  Seeing that she’d been seen at a function for a movie, I wondered if she was an actor who’d been hired as a server and chosen instead to conspire to steal jewels. “Maybe you’ve seen her on television or in the movies,” I suggested.

  “It’s possible, I suppose. I must think about it. I’ll get hold of the photographer. See what else he has. Maybe there are better shots of her.”

  I was very enthusiastic about this idea. “I hope the police do the same thing. I’m always reading about how the UK is so far ahead in facial recognition, and you can’t go anywhere without being caught on CCTV. I bet they can find out who she is.”

  Theodore made a sound that was not exactly flattering towards British law enforcement. “All the fancy technology in the world doesn’t replace good, old-fashioned policing,” he informed me.

  I gave him my biggest smile. “And you are the best.”

  That made him suddenly bashful. “Well, I don’t say that. But dogged determination, you mark my words, Lucy, goes a long way.”

  He really was amazing at old-fashioned policing, but we had Hester and now Carlos, two young vampires who were extremely good with the computer. I thought that we pretty much had the tools of investigation, both modern and old-fashioned, nicely covered. If that woman was an actress of some sort, she shouldn’t be that hard to find.

  And when we did find her, I hoped the jewels were in her possession.

  Rafe drove us back to Harrington Street, where Mabel and Clara had closed up for me. They’d done a wonderful job, which made me realize that I really could take a bit of time off if I needed to.

  I collected Nyx, who was snoozing upstairs on the couch, but she was always ready to go anywhere with Rafe. Especially if he carried her draped over his shoulder.r />
  I packed some essentials, and we decamped once more to Rafe’s manor house, where William served a dinner of cioppino, thick Italian fish soup served with crusty bread. “I want your honest opinion, Lucy,” he said when he served me. “I’m thinking of doing this as a main course for a small lunch I’ve been asked to cater.”

  I breathed in the scents of tomato, garlic, and a hint of fennel. There were big chunks of fish in there as well as prawns and mussels and clams still in their shells. “I’m already raving, and I haven’t even tasted it yet,” I said, picking up my spoon.

  He stood beside me, waiting anxiously while I tasted and savored. I glanced up at him and grinned. “I hope you made a very large pot of this.”

  He put a hand on my shoulder. “I did.”

  Then he left the room, and Rafe sat watching me as I ate. It used to bother me, but I’d grown accustomed. Even as I dipped bread into the tasty broth, I was thinking hard. “Poor Bryce. Do you think he went quickly?” I hoped so.

  “The forensics report will tell us a great deal.” And, thanks to his connections, we’d have it as soon as the detectives. Possibly sooner. “I wouldn’t feel too sorry for Mr. Teddington. The chances are good he was part of a plot to steal those jewels.”

  “I guess. But he seemed so nice.”

  William was as good as his word, and I’d barely finished my first bowl, with unbecoming haste, when he filled it again.

  I ate this one more slowly, enjoying every bite and the wonderful bread William had baked fresh. After dinner, William brought me coffee in the lounge room, and we settled there. It was comfortable and, after the horror of finding Bryce Teddington dead, nice to feel safe. I’d have only brooded if I’d stayed in my flat. Even Nyx seemed happy to snooze at my side.

  It wasn’t long before Theodore showed up.

  He’d successfully obtained the photographer’s files from the gala evening. He brought them on a thumb drive, and the three of us sat in front of one of Rafe’s big computers in his office. I was the only one who’d actually attended the gala, but they were looking for other things in the background, anything that seemed out of the ordinary or suspicious. Even better, I think we were all hoping that there’d be a glimpse of jewels passing from hand to hand or being secreted somewhere. It was a faint hope, but we were running pretty much completely on faint hope right now. The murder of Bryce Teddington took this from a probable crime of opportunity to something much more serious. Sure, the jewels were worth a heck of a lot of money, but I’d have taken a guess that Bryce Teddington thought his life was worth more. Besides, the penalty from theft to murder was a big jump in punishment by law. I felt awful now that I’d even blamed Bryce Teddington for their disappearance. I should have trusted my gut instincts. I thought he was a good guy. Neurotic and high-strung, but I had believed he could be trusted. It was an awful way to be proven right, to find his dead body. And, as Theodore reminded me, it didn’t mean he hadn’t been part of the conspiracy to rob me, only that once his part was played, he’d been cut out permanently.

  Theodore also had the video footage. It was an odd experience to see myself not in a quick movie somebody had taken on their phone, or even those old movies on a camcorder that my mom used to embarrass me with when I was little, but to be filmed like I was a movie star. Watching myself on TV, I knew I’d never looked so glamorous in my whole life. And no doubt never would again. I saw myself getting out of the Bentley. I could almost see myself counting in my head that one and two and three moment of pause before I made my slow and stately way down the red carpet and into the college’s main entrance. I looked so happy. A woman who has no idea that she’s not stepping onto a red carpet; she’s stepping into the worst minefield of her life. And one of those mines is about to blow up with her standing on it.

  While we all watched the movie, I narrated it. “That’s the executive producer, Peter. Then he takes me to Annabel, coming out to greet me. And then she’s taking me to meet the executive producer, Lord Pevensy. He’s the money man.”

  “Lord Pevensy,” Rafe said. “I know him. And his wife.”

  Theodore said in a slightly dry tone, “I’m guessing she didn’t marry him for his good looks.”

  “It’s said that she spends his money faster than he can make it.” Even in the video, you could see the carnal way the woman was staring at those jewels. I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions or make threats against someone I knew little about, but Theodore was in the business of digging into ulterior motives. He said, “The Cartier collection would be a nice set of jewelry for anyone to have.”

  I told him how much she’d admired it, even reaching out to touch the diamonds at my throat, and the comments she’d made to her husband.

  “Interesting,” Theodore said, making a note in his ever-present notebook.

  Rafe said, “But would she go to all that trouble for baubles she could never wear and would never be seen?”

  He looked at me as though I’d have the answer, when I’d only met the woman for a few minutes. I had to agree with him though. She seemed like someone who’d want to wear her bling out, to be seen and envied.

  Theodore said, “Still, it never hurts to check on people.”

  He was right. She might look like an ex-runway model, trophy wife, but for all we knew, she was really an international jewel thief. The longer I was alive, the more people surprised me.

  The raw footage didn’t last too much longer. And then we started to look at the still photographs. There were several hundred of them to get through, and we took our time with each one. I began to get sick of looking at my own face. Even more, I grew heartily sick of staring again and again at that necklace, the earrings sparkling from my lobes, the bracelets and the ring. The set seemed to have no other purpose than to remind me of how I had let Sylvia down.

  I was sure she’d never forgive me. And I wasn’t sure if I could ever forgive myself. If she’d been wearing them, she’d never have let herself be talked into going down a private hallway with a man she didn’t know. I couldn’t stop kicking myself for being such a fool.

  Still, it was fascinating looking at those photographs. The people who were framed in the picture, the subjects, if you like, were smiling and laughing and posed together, but it was the people that didn’t know they were being photographed who were so interesting to look at. Caught unawares, they displayed boredom. I was sure I saw looks of envy, and certainly more than one glance was cast at my neck area where the spectacular necklace sat, and what I saw was pure avarice.

  I could imagine being an underpaid assistant of some sort invited along to this gala and then to see somebody who wasn’t an A-list actress, but an ordinary woman who ran a knitting shop, elevated to star status and dripping with jewels that could not be insured because no one could place a value on them.

  Sylvia had shown me a Christie’s catalogue from some of Jacques Cartier’s other early work, and the prices fetched were literally eye-popping. I mean, you could buy a small country for what people were willing to pay for a few shiny rocks. Okay, a few shiny rocks designed and turned into jewelry by some of the greatest talents in the 1920s. She’d collected catalogues over the years. Knowing Sylvia, she’d probably even been to some of the auctions, and she’d know the sale prices. Each time we came across one she’d say, “And of course, that was nothing near as nice as mine.” Or, “Very inferior rubies.” Or, “Look at the inclusions on that diamond. One can see them with the naked eye.” Maybe she could, with her vampire super-vision, but to a mere mortal like me, they looked pretty swanky. And whoever had paid multimillions of Swiss francs, American dollars, Hong Kong dollars, euros, or British pounds had obviously felt the same way.

  “Wait,” I said, and before Theodore could move to the next photograph, I pointed in the upper left-hand corner. “That’s Patricia Beeton, the clothing designer. And even though he’s cut out of the frame, I’m certain she’s talking to Bryce Teddington. I remember he was drinking sparkling water with lemon.
And that looks like his watch. I only recognize it because he looked at it when we were picking a time to meet.”

  “Excellent work, Lucy.”

  “Theodore, let’s see if we can find any other photo that shows the two of them together,” Rafe said.

  “Of course, it could be perfectly innocent. They could easily know each other. It’s natural that they might exchange a few words,” I said, not wanting to throw Patricia under a cloud of suspicion any more than I’d wanted to believe Bryce Teddington was capable of hitting me over the head and stealing my jewelry. I could be wrong in both cases, but I also wouldn’t want Theodore to waste a lot of time following a trail that led to a blind alley.

  Then I had an idea. “Patricia Beeton bought some woolen sweaters from me. I had to order in the extra wool. When it comes in, I’m to call her, and she’ll come and pick it up.”

  “How long will that take?” Rafe asked me.

  I bobbled my head back and forth. “Normally, three weeks. But if I found that wool in another store—”

  Before I even finished the thought, Theodore was nodding. “I could drive up in the Bentley. I could have it to you within a day.”

  “Fabulous. And then, while we’re chatting over wool, I’ll casually get into a conversation about poor Bryce and how well did she know him.”

  “I’ll prepare a list of questions for you. Things that you might not think to ask but that you could hopefully work into conversation naturally,” Theodore said.

 

‹ Prev