I yanked out the larger bottom drawer. Inside, I found a wooden box. Heck, he still kept manual records. Index cards with client names, addresses and details of the jobs he’d done for them. I wouldn’t need the flash drive I’d pocketed before leaving home. I’d take this and go through the cards later. The box didn’t fit in my handbag. Probably better to remove the index cards anyway. I crammed the cards in my bag and managed to get the zip shut.
I replaced the box in the drawer and made sure everything was exactly as I’d found it. By the time Jasper discovered his database missing, I’d be long gone. A sliver of guilt hit me. Databases were sensitive and valuable commercial property. I’d be hurting his business. I hesitated a fraction longer before promising myself I’d return the cards somehow. I switched off the light and left the flat.
After a quick stop to remove the pillow from the neighboring flat and toss it inside, I made my way down a narrow set of steps and let myself out the door leading to the parking area out the back. I collected my clothes and hurried back to the Mini. Unfortunately, traffic on the way back to Kensington was heavy and I arrived twenty minutes late.
“Where the devil have you been?” Father’s words greeted me like the lash of a whip.
I switched off the ignition and jumped out to pull back the seat for Ben to scramble into the rear. Meanwhile, Father laboriously clambered into the passenger seat.
“I said where the devil have you been?” His aching joints did nothing for his temper.
“I heard you the first time,” I snapped while merging with traffic. “I ran into problems.” My confession was terse and settled Father’s irascible temper.
“You’re only half an hour late,” he conceded.
Ben leaned forward between the driver and passenger seats. “What happened?”
“I managed to get in okay, but our mystery competitor beat us to the prize.”
“Who is it?” Father demanded.
“I’ve no idea, but they’ll be pissed. I collected their calling cards. They left more this time.”
“Good job, Evie,” Ben said.
Father studied me closely. “And?”
He knew me too well. I let out a sigh, gathering courage to confess my stuff-up. “I tripped a silent alarm.” No point giving the truth any window dressing. I knew I’d messed up and wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Father scrutinized me until I started to feel like a bug under Amber’s toy microscope. “At least you realized.”
“I held the door for the cops when they arrived,” I admitted, my tone wry.
Ben spluttered.
“They didn’t recognize you.”
Hearing the pride in Father’s voice, I took my eyes off the road. “No.”
“That’s my girl,” he said. “Ben and I can tell you what to do, but experience is the best teacher. You did good, keeping cool under fire. You did good.”
Chapter Thirteen
Praise indeed. I didn’t try to restrain my surge of achievement as I drove down Kensington High Street past Prince’s Gate. I’d take compliments where I could get them.
“How did you and Ben go with your investigation?”
“We split up and tried most of the pubs around Covent Garden and the Strand. I got lucky in one of the Soho pubs.”
My lips twitched at Father’s wording. “Did you?” I indicated right into Brompton Road when the light turned green.
Ben guffawed. “Blonde or brunette?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter.” Father growled, but humor lurked under his bark. “I met up with the bloke who’s doing the selling. He said he expected another shipment in a few days. Gave me his card and took my number.”
“Great job.” I hadn’t expected results. “Did you manage to get details out of him?”
“The man was cagey although greedy. By the time I’d told him about my garden-expansion plans and the type of plants I required, I had him eating out of my hand.”
“Like Amber’s bunny,” I said.
“Just like Amber’s bunny,” Father said.
I pulled up in a small mews belonging to an acquaintance. My car would be handy but out of sight of prying neighbors.
“So, what are you going to do next? You don’t know for sure this is the thief.” I included Ben in my question.
Father reached over to squeeze my shoulder. “Don’t worry your pretty head about the details. Ben and I will take care of everything.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I said. “You will keep away from the poker games and the casino.”
Father snorted and struggled from my Mini. “With the pocket money you give us?”
His indignation and ingratitude stoked my temper. I was the one pulling his arse from the flames. If it weren’t for his huge debts, the Shadow could retire. I could take a shot at a normal life—or as normal as possible living in the same house as the terrible trio. I opened my mouth to spew forth a few home truths before clamping down on the hasty words. Father wasn’t the only one at fault here. I’d run off to France to wallow in my shame instead of facing the truth. The gossip. I hadn’t been at home watching him.
I climbed from the car and pulled back my seat to let Ben clamber out. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
It was a silent procession who walked down the road, each of us engrossed in our own thoughts. Father stalked ahead, his pride ruffled judging by his stiff, erect posture. Ben kept his own counsel.
Father came to an abrupt halt. Deep in thoughts of the past and should haves, I walked right into him. Seconds later, I was a sandwich filling hiding behind a convenient post box.
“Cops at nine o’clock,” Father whispered tersely in explanation.
“Oh, look! The boyfriend,” Ben said.
My heart knocked against my ribs. “He’s not my boyfriend.” Although I wanted him. There. I’d admitted my impossible dream. For the first time since my giddy teenage years, I felt the urge to get close to a man. My stomach pulled tight while a tingle sprang to life on my lips. I had imagination and one or two kisses to build my fantasies into great works of art.
“Then why does he keep ringing up and coming ’round?” Father asked.
I struggled to maintain composure. “That was business. An investigation.”
“If you say so,” Ben said. I couldn’t see it but I heard the glee in his voice.
“A right pretty pickle this is. You say Williams has seen you tonight in that getup?”
I gasped in consternation. Different clothes but the same hair. If Kahu saw me here, he’d add his sums and come up with the right total.
“We don’t want him to see any of us,” I said, peering around the red post box. “That’s the house I intended to check out.” My hands curled to fists. “Goddamn it! Our mystery cat is a pain in the arse.”
“We don’t know for sure that’s the problem,” Ben said.
“Why else would the cops arrive at the very house we want to check out? At exactly the same time? I don’t like coincidences.” Father shifted his weight a fraction. “We need to do something.”
I tugged on Father’s shirttail and squeezed Ben’s forearm. “We’d better head back to the car. No point trying anything here.”
We backtracked to the mews in silence.
“We’ll try the other house in Cadogan Square,” I said.
“Best not risk it,” Father said. “You’ve run into the cops twice tonight. If I was a betting man, I’d say we might find our mysterious cat there before us.”
You are a betting man. “They have to be part of our social circle.”
Father grunted.
Ben cleared his throat. “Beauchamp expects a payment tomorrow.”
Did they have to remind me? “Vincent and Seedy were tame this morning, but I wouldn’t count on them remaining the same way if we miss a payment.”
Father bit off a frustrated curse as we climbed in the car. “Beauchamp will use the money shortage to blackmail you.” He scrubbed his hands
across his face. “Hell, I’m sorry.”
In the light cast by the streetlamp, lines of fatigue and worry spliced with what I guessed was guilt filled his face. I took my left hand off the steering wheel and reached over to touch Father on the arm. “You never said what you spent the money on.”
Father sighed, looking every year of his age. “Maintaining Oakthorpe is expensive.” His voice was matter-of-fact and void of excuses. He saw maintaining Oakthorpe as a sacred trust. It was the Fawkner way.
“Keeping the business going is expensive.” Ben’s gruff voice held resignation. “Skimp on equipment, and it’s jail quicker than a dog after a bitch in heat.”
“Charming,” I said, merging with the traffic on the A24.
Father managed a weak chuckle before lapsing into brooding silence.
Hannah greeted us at the door on our return. “You’re back earlier than I expected.”
“A few hiccups,” I said. “I’ll let you both out here and park the car.”
Father massaged his hands and arms in a furtive manner when he thought none of us were looking. My heart ached for him.
He hobbled inside followed by Ben while I drove around the back of the house to park in the garage. A typical summer’s night. Full moon. Mild weather. The scent of honeysuckle in the air. A night made for romance and whispering sweet nothings, yet all I got was drama.
Hannah was in the kitchen when I walked inside. The kettle whistled and clicked off.
“How’s Amber?”
“Chicken pox,” Hannah said, reaching for the kettle and pouring boiling water into a blue china teapot.
Damn. “Is she all right?” What sort of parent was I? I’d known she wasn’t well but had assumed she’d overdone things at the after-school party.
“She’s running a temperature but the doctor says she’ll be fine. The fever should drop soon.”
I hurried from the kitchen and bolted up the stairs. Amber was asleep just as Hannah said. Her rosebud mouth gaped a little, and each breath she took sounded like the fairy whistle my godmother used to tell her stories about. I tiptoed to the bed, my heart aching with a fierce tug of love. Her cheeks were flushed and her brown hair damp and messy. She’d kicked off the bedcovers, and I bent to twitch them into place. I smoothed a lock of hair away from her face and felt her forehead. Hot, although not too bad.
I trusted Hannah implicitly with my daughter, but I’d still deserted her when she needed me most. Tears of helplessness formed behind my eyes, and I swallowed to dislodge the knot in my throat. Bottom line, I should have been here for her.
Soft footsteps sounded, and Hannah joined me. After one look at my face, she placed an arm around my shoulders. “It’s all right, pet. Amber’s going to be fine. Don’t cry.”
Of course on hearing that, my tears fell faster. I sniffed inelegantly.
Hannah hugged me to her ample bosom, and when my tears eased, patted me on the back. “Come downstairs. Ben and Charles muttered about a meeting. We might as well join them and help drink the last of the good Scottish whisky.”
Amber stirred, her legs kicking out before she settled again.
“Don’t worry. The best thing for her now is sleep. Come downstairs. I need someone sensible to control those old coots. I can’t do it on my own.”
With those words, the band of helplessness around my chest eased. Hannah, in her own sweet way, made me realize we were a family. The four of us functioned as a family and we’d fall as one if I didn’t lead from the front.
“You see more of your daughter than most parents do,” Hannah said, ushering me from Amber’s room. “You visit her sports days, help out with the PTA and read her stories most nights. You’re a good parent, Evie. Don’t beat yourself up.”
We entered the den together. Father and Ben were sprawled out in their favorite armchairs, glasses of whisky in hand. Their animated chatter died when we arrived.
Hannah arched a brow. “Hatching mischief, boys?”
The idea of her calling Father and Ben boys tickled my funny bone.
“Humph,” Father said.
I grabbed two crystal glasses from the old, battered sideboard and poured Hannah a generous measure of whisky. I made do with sparkling mineral water. Hannah dropped onto an old leather couch, a sigh of relief gusting from her. I took up a position against the wall because I wanted to see the three of them at the same time.
“We need to shut our competitor down,” Father said.
No arguments there. “How? Any ideas?”
“Ben and I have been discussing it. We need to set a trap. I hate to admit it, but your boyfriend might come in handy.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I protested automatically.
“How come he rang for you twice tonight and once at lunchtime?” Hannah didn’t attempt to hide her delight.
“Because he doesn’t have my mobile number. I didn’t think I should encourage him.” Not too much.
“What did he want?” Father demanded.
“Did he leave a message?” Ben asked.
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Big, fat liar. “He’s not!”
Hannah dropped her bombshell. “He left a message. Two, actually.”
I was going to kill them. A slow, painful manner would work best.
Ben waggled his eyebrows. “What did they say?”
“Where are they?” Father narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t you dare give my messages to them.” I tried to subdue them with my glare.
“I didn’t like to leave any evidence.” Hannah was enjoying my predicament. “I memorized them. Now let me see…” Her brows squeezed together and she held one pudgy hand to her forehead like a damn psychic.
“Don’t I get any privacy around here?” I didn’t have to force the belligerent note. I wanted a normal life, but what were the chances of that?
“He can help us with our problem,” Father said, breaking into my thoughts.
“Let me give Evie her messages before I forget the exact wording. It’s important to get things right.”
I wanted to throttle her and, judging by the twinkle in her eye, she knew it.
“The first phone call was to touch base, to say hello and ask Evie out for dinner tonight. The second was a plea to ring back on his mobile, and the third message was a sorry he hadn’t caught up with you. He wanted to wish you sweet dreams, and he’ll ring again tomorrow.” Hannah sighed dreamily. “Ben, you could take a few pages out of his book. He has such a nice manner on the phone, and that accent. So sexy.”
My father coughed loudly. “That’s enough of that, Hannah. Ben has everything you need. You don’t need to stray.”
“My father, the advice columnist,” I mocked. “We’re drifting off topic. Your plan? The one to oust our competitor? That’s if there’s still an ‘us’ after we shortchange Beauchamp tomorrow.”
As always, reality exerted a calming influence.
“I’ve been turning the idea over in my head all day,” Father said. “How about this? Release a rumor we’ve found a Celtic dagger while we were digging a new garden.”
I straightened from my casual pose. “Not bad. Not bad at all. How are we going to bring the police into it?”
“That’s where my plan gets sticky,” Father admitted. “We’ll have to let that man into our house. You’re going to have to accept a date or two with that cop. We might even have to let him stay the odd night.”
I spluttered in shock. “Stay the night?”
Father’s cheeks reddened. “In a spare room, of course.”
Surprisingly, I fought against the idea the hardest. “Won’t it make things difficult for the Shadow?”
Ben sipped his whisky. “I don’t think so. Besides, Beauchamp’s goons might keep away if they know we have an in with the police.”
“Have you lost your minds?” Senility. That was it. The senile gene had hit the terrible trio at the same time.
Chapter Fourteen
I lost the argument. The next mor
ning I picked up the phone to ring Inspector Kahu Williams. The scent of bacon and toast hung heavily in the air. I should have felt hunger but nerves made my stomach dip and dance. I was a step away from nausea and food would only aid the process.
“Get on with it,” Father snapped.
I preferred to contact him without an audience but didn’t want the terrible trio to call me on not using the landline. Keeping them in line was a delicate balancing act. While I glared at him, he speared a piece of bacon and dipped it in runny egg yolk. I hurriedly looked away. The deep breaths I sucked in were full of breakfast smells. I puffed them out in a hurry.
“I can’t understand what’s so difficult about ringing the man,” Father said.
Yep, he was genuinely confused. Forehead pleated. Brows drawn together.
“Men.” Hannah plopped a slice of whole-wheat toast on a plate. “Eat,” she ordered, handing it to me. “It will settle your nerves.”
Anything to put off the call. I set the phone down with a click and dragged out a chair to join the terrible trio at the table. I eyed the toast with disfavor but picked up a knife and a jar of Hannah’s homemade strawberry jam.
“Amber is much better this morning,” I said.
“Poor lamb. She’s upset about missing pet day at school. She wanted to take her rabbit.” Hannah sipped her tea.
A pang of sympathy struck me. I’d wanted to attend the pet day too. “The spots are out this morning. I’d bet a few of her classmates miss pet day.”
“Make the phone call.” Father dragged another piece of bacon through his egg and looked up with a grimace. “I can’t abide this waiting around.”
I picked up my toast and crunched down. Better a full mouth than uttering the unforgivable words trembling at the tip of my tongue. I tried to make allowances for Father’s arthritis. The pain made him irascible but sometimes I wanted to lash out in return. I was doing my best.
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