by Guy Adams
‘And I’m sure you will,’ Ranesh replied, proving, if nothing else, that he was good at his job. ‘Do you speak Korean at all?’
‘Like a native.’
‘That is good. I don’t, I’m afraid, though I have Lucy with me who does.’
‘Lucy?’
‘Baxter. You’ll meet her just now, she should be down any minute.’
‘Now it’s my turn to be rude,’ said April, taking his arm in the hope that a bit of a cuddle might move things along, ‘but what on earth were they thinking sending someone from HDMS who didn’t speak the lingo?’
‘A good question,’ he admitted. ‘In truth, I think I just pissed off the right person.’
April laughed. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re looking forward to your time here.’
‘I was, until people started dying.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that, it just adds a bit of spice.’
‘I am used to spice, Miss Shining, but this feels a little too hot even for me.’ He smiled and glanced at his watch. ‘And Lucy too, perhaps. Where is she? They’ll be here in a minute.’
‘Happy to take a look if you point me in the right direction,’ April suggested. ‘See? I’m being useful already.’
Ranesh sighed and glanced at his watch again. ‘I should go.’
‘But then, if the Koreans arrive, you won’t be here to greet them. Much more embarrassing. Just point me in the direction of her room and I’ll rustle her up.’
‘Very well. Are you in the East Wing?’
‘Let’s not go into that just now, or I’ll start swearing again. I can find it.’
‘Hers is the Ophelia room. They are all named after Shakespeare characters.’
‘Of course they are.’
‘You enter the East Wing, walk along the corridor and it’s …’ he had to think for a moment, ‘third on the left.’
‘Perfect,’ she began to stride back towards the entrance hall. ‘I’ll be back in a jiffy.’
By the time she entered the East Wing, she was still complimenting herself on how terribly charming she could be when she wanted. She was only too aware that her brother and Toby considered her a liability while at Lufford Hall but there was life in the old dog yet and, while she may have slipped into the habits of increased age, giving not a brace of hoots about what she said or did on a day-to-day basis, she wasn’t quite so far gone that she couldn’t be politic when needed.
She walked along the long corridor, taking a moment to study the grumpy old restoration gentlemen in the oil paintings that lined the walls. ‘All wigs and flatulence,’ she decided, then reminded herself she was supposed to be being quick. She looked at the nameplates on the doors. Rosalind, Juliet and … third on the left, Ophelia.
She knocked on the door. ‘Lucy?’ she called. ‘Ranesh is wearing out the carpet with worry.’
There was no answer. She knocked again. ‘Miss Baxter? Lucy?’
Probably overslept, April decided, then, thinking of the reason August and Toby were here, her thoughts grew darker.
She tried the door. It was unlocked.
The room beyond was dark, the heavy curtains blocking any light from the windows. ‘Lucy?’ she called, ‘are you all right?’
She ran her hand across the wall on the inside of the door, searching for a light switch, but not finding it.
‘Save me from old houses with weird wiring,’ she muttered, rooting around in her handbag for her cigarette lighter.
It was a battered old Zippo with a picture of James Dean on it and she’d owned it for longer than she could remember. Hadn’t an old boyfriend bought it for her? Probably. One’s memory of such things began to blur.
She ignited the Zippo and made her way inside. ‘Lucy? Sorry to intrude, dear. If you’re even in here …’ It suddenly occurred to her that the girl could be walking around the grounds or downstairs having breakfast. No doubt she’d be over the moon to discover a stranger was poking around her room.
Then again, she thought of the three people who had already lost their lives to whoever was preying on members of the delegation and decided now was not the time for pussyfooting around people’s privacy.
She made her way over to the main curtained window and pulled the heavy drapes back, letting the light in.
The room was beautiful. The walls an eggshell blue, the furniture even older than her. The floor was thickly carpeted in cream, a nightmare for stains, she thought, of which there were many.
She followed the dark brown patches – blood, she thought, it’s blood – into the en-suite bathroom. Which is where she finally found Lucy. She was lying back in the bathtub, fully clothed, her legs sticking up in the air. One shoe hung off a cold set of toes, the other foot was bare. There were further bloodstains on the bathroom floor but it was behind the poor girl’s head that most of it had pooled. It seemed that she had slipped, fallen backwards into the bath, hitting her head on the jutting-out soap tray as she’d done so.
One arm was folded beneath her but the other was lying across her chest. There was a deep cut on her thumb, a further bloodstain having spread out from that to bloom across the belly of the bright white shirt she had been wearing.
‘Oh, Lucy,’ April sighed.
April glanced back into the bedroom. It looked like the girl had cut her thumb somehow, bad enough to bleed on the carpet as she made her way into the bathroom, no doubt hoping to wash and dress it. Then she had slipped on something and fallen back into the bath.
An accident. Or at least, that would have been the obvious conclusion were it not for …
April moved back through into the bedroom and placed her hand on the carpet. It was wet.
b) Lufford Hall, Alcester, Warwickshire
April closed the door behind her. She would have preferred to report the girl’s death to her brother before anyone else, but as neither he nor Toby had their mobile phones she didn’t know how best to find him.
As she began to head back down the corridor she became aware of the sound of a helicopter approaching the building.
‘Oh Lord,’ she said, ‘here they bloody come.’
As she descended into the entrance hall, she could see Clive King and Ranesh walking out across the gravel forecourt to greet the helicopter.
A suitably grim selection of security agents hung back by the door. She spotted Rowlands, barking commands and sending a couple of them back into the building, no doubt to check all was well in the conference room.
What to do?
Ah hell … She didn’t have much choice but to play by the rules.
She walked through the main door, noting the barely disguised sneer on Rowlands’ face as she approached him.
‘Now isn’t a good time, Miss Shining,’ he said, ‘obviously.’
‘I’m fully aware of that, you stuck-up arse,’ she whispered, looking towards Ranesh who was greeting the Koreans and looking back over his shoulder in slight panic, ‘but I thought I ought to mention you have a translator lying dead in her room upstairs. It’s the Ophelia suite. If you would be so good as to inform my brother, I shall go over there and do my job.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Rowlands was, unsurprisingly, thrown by this news.
‘Job? No, I suppose that isn’t a concept that you would immediately understand. It’s the thing some of us do while you’re being an insufferable turd.’
She descended the steps and walked quickly towards the helicopter, fixed smile in place. The look of relief on Ranesh’s face was extreme. She was quite sure that the Koreans probably spoke English but Ranesh would be ashamed not to be able to greet them in their own tongue. She felt a welcome boost of pleasure to note the look of absolute terror on Clive King’s face as he recognised her. Was he married now? She imagined he probably was. Had he been, back when they had first met? Oh, probably … the buggers usually had been despite their promises otherwise.
‘Good morning,’ she shouted in Korean. ‘My name is April Shining. It is with extreme plea
sure that we welcome you to Lufford Hall.’
She winked at Ranesh.
The Korean party was three men and a woman. The woman walked in front, clearly in charge. April guessed she was in her late fifties, dressed in an extremely well-tailored light brown suit, precise in her manner and dress, April decided. She smiled graciously at April’s greeting and replied, in English.
‘I am Son Tae-young. It is good to finally be with you. Apparently turbulence delayed our arrival.’
Yours and mine both, thought April.
‘Which makes my own delay even more inexcusable,’ said April, keeping her tone as deferential as she could.
‘Nonsense,’ the woman replied, this time in Korean. ‘I’m amazed all these officious men let you out of the house.’ She grinned and looked at King and Ranesh who simply smiled in ignorance. ‘God save me from more of the old-school tie and the slightly patronising nodding, it is all I have been exposed to since I came to this country.’
April laughed. ‘Tae-young,’ she said, ‘I can see you and I are going to get on famously! Shall we put them out of their misery and get inside?’
‘If only so they can stop grinning like children at me,’ Tae-young agreed.
‘Lead the way, Clive,’ said April, gesturing for him to walk in front. Ever the professional, the look of fearful recognition had now vanished and he was charm itself as they moved away from the helicopter.
‘Where is Lucy?’ Ranesh asked, once they were far enough away from the whirring blades for her to hear him without his shouting.
She patted his arm. ‘I’m afraid there’s been an accident. She’s dead. I think it best we keep quiet about it for now, don’t you?’
She looked at him and the sheer weight of sorrow that appeared in his eyes made her realise that he and Lucy had not been simply colleagues. ‘Oh God,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry … I didn’t realise.’
He shook his head. ‘Not now.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, I can handle our visitors, off you go.’
After a moment he nodded and peeled away from the party.
It was only once they were inside that Clive King turned around and noticed. He stared at April, clearly torn between whether he should draw attention to Ranesh disappearing by asking about it or simply acting as if nothing had happened. April took pity on him and addressed Tae-young once more.
‘That’s better,’ she said, in Korean. ‘I’m afraid my boss had to dash off for a moment. I didn’t think you’d mind.’
‘Not at all. Can you get rid of the other one too?’
April laughed. After a moment King joined in, not wanting to appear left out.
‘What did you say?’ he whispered to her as Tae-young turned and looked appreciatively at the decorative plasterwork.
‘That I used to be able to make you come just by breathing on you, darling,’ she replied, keeping her sweet smile in place as he had a brief choking fit.
‘I hope you are all right, Mr King?’ asked Tae-young, speaking in English.
‘Forgive me,’ he replied, wheezing slightly, ‘just a … something tickling my throat.’
‘We’ve all felt that in our time,’ said April, continuing to smile innocently.
‘Allow me to introduce my colleagues,’ said Tae-young. ‘Kim Man-dae,’ she gestured to a young man who nodded somewhat nervously at them all. ‘He is here representing his father Kim Sang-min, one of the largest of our potential private investors.’
She turned towards an older man, his greying hair jutting out at the back in a manner that put April in mind of a seabird. ‘Bong Jae-sung, from the Ministry of Strategy and Finance.’
‘Excellent to be here,’ he said in accentless English.
‘And finally, from our Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Ryu Chun-hee.’ This last member of the party tried to smile from behind the rather austere lines of a thin goatee black beard. April found the effect more terrifying than charming.
‘Ms Tae-young,’ said Rowlands, having joined them, a slight redness to his cheeks showing he had been running. ‘I’m Mark Rowlands, handling security here at Lufford Hall.’
‘Tae-young is Ms Son’s given name, Mr Rowlands,’ said April. ‘In Korea, the family name comes first.’ Read up on your bloody subject, she might have added, but remembered she was supposed to be being a diplomat.
‘Forgive me,’ Rowlands said, embarrassed but too stressed by what he and his men had seen upstairs to let it faze him. ‘I was just going to ask if everyone would like to go straight through to the conference room for coffee?’
‘I was rather hoping to unpack first,’ Tae-young replied, ‘gather my papers.’
‘Just a slight delay with the rooms, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘Security, you understand. On the subject of which. Has it been explained that you must leave all electronic devices with us?’
Tae-young sighed. ‘It was said, but certainly not explained. I am not used to handing my phone and laptop over to strangers.’
‘I know it’s a pain,’ said April, in Korean once more, ‘but we do have good reasons, I’m afraid.’
Tae-young looked at her for a moment then nodded. ‘Very well,’ she replied in English, ‘though it’s extremely inconvenient.’
‘Let’s go and have some coffee and biscuits while the boys run around playing soldiers, shall we?’ suggested April, speaking to them all. ‘Once they’ve played their games, they’ll be all tired out and much less likely to trouble us.’
Tae-young laughed, stepped close to April and spoke in Korean, ‘I can’t believe the way you talk about your employers.’
‘Well,’ said April, equally confidentially, ‘I’m the only one that can speak Korean. What are they going to do? Fire me?’
They filed into the conference room, where two of Rowlands’ men were standing in the far corner like intimidating statues. They weren’t the only people in the room. A man wearing a suit that cost more than April’s apartment and a tie that made her wish for blindness was bounding towards them.
‘Love your faces, great for all eyes!’ he said in Korean, performing a deep bow before adopting a pose that suggested he was expecting a round of applause.
‘Dear God,’ said Tae-young in Korean, ‘what am I supposed to say to that?’ She looked to the rest of the group who were naturally as baffled as she was and only too happy to take a back seat while she dealt with the conversation.
‘Sorry,’ said the man who could only be the ludicrously titled Lemuel Spang. ‘I’m afraid I only learned how to say hello. I may have sounded fluent,’ he winked, ‘but really it’s just Google-Fu.’
‘You acquitted yourself wonderfully,’ said Tae-young, giving a warning glance to the rest of her party. April noticed that Chun-hee in particular seemed about to say something. He turned away and gazed out of the window as if distracted by something much more interesting.
‘I’m the banker,’ said Spang. April briefly imagined she’d misheard. ‘Try not to hold it against me!’
‘We all need banks,’ Tae-young replied, ‘Mr …?’
‘Sorry, I didn’t say. Spang, Lemuel Spang. Weird name over here, what happens when you have Eastern-European parents and a father who loved Jonathan Swift. I don’t suppose it sounds weird to you, I mean … being from somewhere different.’
April wondered if she might be fulfilling her duties better were she to hit him over the head with a chair.
‘Well,’ said King, having obviously decided the conversation needed rescuing, ‘why don’t we all take a seat until the coffee arrives?’ He looked to Rowlands who nodded and vanished. So nice to see him demoted to a waiter, April thought.
They sat down, Tae-young careful to ensure April sat next to her. ‘In case I need rescuing,’ she explained.
‘Where did you learn your Korean, Miss Shining?’ asked Jae-sung. ‘It’s excellent.’
‘Not as excellent as your English, I’m sure,’ she replied, deciding, now that the man had smiled a little, that while he still reminded
her of a seabird it was a kindly one, perhaps a puffin.
‘I attended university here,’ he explained. ‘Manchester Polytechnic.’
‘Metropolitan University now,’ said Spang.
Jae-sung inclined his head, accepting the correction. April did her best to smile, remembering August’s comments with regards her snobbery towards academic establishments. ‘How lovely,’ she said.
‘I had fun,’ he admitted. ‘Lots.’
I’ll just bet you did, she thought, noticing the twinkle in his eye and correcting her judgement of him: a naughty puffin.
‘I was in a relationship with a man from Gangwon-do province,’ she explained, ‘many years ago. I’ve always been quick to pick things up.’
‘My father has an office in Chuncheon,’ said Man-dae. He shrugged. ‘But then he has offices everywhere.’
‘I once spent a strange holiday there during the puppet festival,’ April admitted.
‘You like puppets?’ he asked.
‘As a woman in government I’ve often been one,’ she replied. Tae-young laughed and patted her hand.
King was obviously feeling left out, having spent a minute or so staring at the door and wishing it would produce some refreshments. He tried his hand at joining in the conversation. ‘You know what they say,’ he announced, ‘you’ll never keep a good man down. Or, you know, woman.’
‘We do like to come up for air occasionally,’ April agreed. ‘Ah! Biscuits!’
One of the catering staff had appeared in the doorway, wheeling in a fully stocked trolley.
She loaded herself up with as many chocolate digestives as seemed polite – or, at least, not excessively rude – and settled down for a long day of discussion.
She could only hope that August and Toby had been informed about the fate of poor Lucy.
CHAPTER NINE: THE PRINT
a) Lufford Hall, Alcester, Warwickshire
August and Toby returned to Lufford Hall an hour or so after they had left it, completely unaware of what had happened to one of the delegates. This state of ignorance continued for some time, as nobody saw fit to tell them about the death of Lucy Baxter. It was only after they had decided to explore the stable block that they saw her wrapped-up body being loaded into the back of a van.