False fire

by Veronica Heley

  Gideon reddened. ‘How dare you call me a liar!’

  ‘Cecil would never, ever, have stolen from you. You arranged the theft to give you an excuse to sack him. When he got back from lunch you told him to clear his desk and leave, or you’d report him to the police. You said he could kiss goodbye to his company pension. He was shattered. He couldn’t believe what had happened. He went home and died that night.’

  Gideon moved uneasily in his chair. ‘More fool him. I suppose my father and Steve would have come up with something to ease his way into retirement—’

  ‘The shame of it! That good old man, who’d worked for the firm for so many years, accused of a crime which he hadn’t committed. And when his son Neil confronted you about it—’

  ‘When he forced his way into my office and threatened me—’

  ‘You told him you wouldn’t be using him any more and he should vacate his flat and the one his father rented from the business … which meant that, as he was a freelance, his future looked bleak, too.’

  Steve blundered over to the window. He put his hands on the glass and leaned against the pane, his head bowed.

  Everyone turned to look at him. Mel said, ‘Steve, what is it?’

  He swung his head from side to side.

  Mel went to him. ‘Steve? Tell me.’

  He mouthed something.

  She said, ‘You’re guilty? What do you mean, guilty?’

  He grasped her wrist, trying to speak. Mel did her best to follow what he was trying to tell her. ‘You went to see Cecil that night, after he got the sack? Right? Well, that’s good, isn’t it?’

  Steve was shaking his head violently. She handed him his tablet and he bent over it, fingers flying.

  Mel read it out. ‘He wanted job back. Dad told me to say “No”. Time he retired.’

  Steve nodded, hard, and continued to type.

  Mel read out. ‘I was supposed to say pension OK. Cecil too tired to talk. Told me to go. I didn’t tell him. He died that night. Guilty.’

  William said, ‘You did your best, boy. You couldn’t have known Cecil would have a stroke before you had a chance to put things right. His death affected Josh, too. All those years he’d spent making excuses for Gideon, always hoping that next time the boy would come up trumps. Poor old Josh. No wonder he decided to take precautions to safeguard the future of the business.’

  Those words sank like lead into silence.

  ‘You mean …? What do you mean?’ Gideon lost all his colour. ‘My father would never have done anything to hurt me.’

  Bea guessed, ‘Josh changed his will? Someone said something about Josh remaking his will every so often, and getting Daphne to do so as well. Is that true?’

  Giorgio, who’d been sitting there with his mouth open, trying to follow the conversation, now stirred in his seat. ‘Daphne gave me the car. She did. It was a gift. And my flat.’ His voice trailed away because no one was taking any interest in what he said.

  Faye’s mouth was also open. ‘You mean, he cut Giddy off without a penny?’

  ‘He can’t have done!’ Gideon passed his tongue over his lips. ‘He can’t, anyway. I’m the sales director. I occupy the ground and first floors at our head office. I employ twenty or so members of staff. Do you know how much per square foot that’s worth in today’s money?’

  William said, ‘Josh transferred the freehold of the building to a limited company. Steve has forty-five per cent of the shares, I have a few, and the rest are held in trust for Alicia. The Maintenance Department has always paid its way, but you haven’t. Your father’s idea was that if you reorganized your business and started to pay a market rent, then you could stay. But if not, you would have to leave. Even if Steve were agreeable to your staying rent-free, he couldn’t do so, because the rest of us can outvote him. Your father ought to have told you what he intended to do, but he put it off. He was always hoping you’d see sense.’

  ‘What!’ Gideon shot out of his seat. ‘He can’t have done that! Anyway, Steve, you wouldn’t turn me out! I couldn’t survive!’

  Steve lifted his hands in the air. In defeat.

  Gideon turned on William. ‘Who are Alicia’s trustees? They’ll see me right.’

  William managed a small, tired smile. ‘A firm of solicitors who can neither be bribed or bought. They will look after her interests and take their cut. They are currently assessing how much the property should be let for in the event that you fail to pay your share of the rent. It may be that Steve himself will be advised to find new premises which are somewhat cheaper, but we all know he’ll manage to pay his way.’

  Gideon gaped. ‘But I need offices in the right part of town! How can I attract customers if I’m working out of a hole in the wall?’

  Yes, exactly.

  Alaric clicked a gold lighter. On. Off. Face wooden.

  Ninette however, couldn’t sit still. ‘But if Gideon goes out of business, what about me? My party business depends on a whole raft of clients, of course it does. I’m doing very well, of course I am, but without the work he puts my way …’

  Party organizer. Limousines. Neil Thurrock. Faye.

  Connection?

  Bea held up her hand. ‘Just a thought. Parking has become an increasingly difficult matter in London. Many people are leaving their cars at home and using a cab if they go out for the evening. How many of you regularly used Neil Thurrock as chauffeur?’

  William said, ‘Josh has been driving himself less and less recently. He didn’t want to use a black cab. He told me he’s been using a local man with a car. Was that Neil Thurrock, Cecil’s son? Keeping it in the family, so to speak?’

  Steve nodded. Mouthed, ‘Yes.’

  Bea said, ‘I wonder …? Does anyone have a picture of him?’

  Faye said, ‘He’s on Facebook.’

  Steve scrabbled on his tablet, relaxed into a smile and held a picture up.

  Mel peered over Steve’s shoulder to say, ‘Neil Thurrock’s on Facebook advertising himself and his limo. There’s pictures of him on a motorbike, too. I wouldn’t know him from Adam, but … shall I pass this around?’

  Bea almost snatched the tablet from Mel. Yes, this was the man who’d visited her, posing as a policeman. She said, ‘This is the man who visited me, pretending to be from the police, trying to make me pay for Faye’s pearls. Giorgio?’ She handed the picture over to him. ‘Giorgio, did the third electrician working at Josh’s house look like this man?’

  A blank look. ‘Dunno. Might have. I didn’t notice, did I?’

  Gideon took the tablet off Giorgio. ‘Yes, that’s him. I used him all the time for entertainment, tax deductible of course. As a chauffeur. Not socially, of course.’

  Bea homed in on Faye, who was concentrating on teasing out her hair. ‘You knew him very well, Faye, or you wouldn’t have sent him to me to ask for money. How intimate were you?’

  ‘Hunh? Oh, not that way. Well, only occasionally. I had to be careful because we both knew Giddy wouldn’t like it if he was spending time with me. Yeah, we saw one another all the time, living in the same building, and him being handy with a screwdriver if the electrics went wrong or anything.’ She looked around. ‘What are you all looking at me like that for?’

  ‘You live in the same building?’ Bea was incredulous. Hadn’t the girl any idea at all about, well … anything?

  ‘Sure. Why not? Giddy arranged for me to rent a studio flat for free, in one of the company’s properties. Old Man Thurrock had the ground-floor flat, and Neil had the basement, where he kept the limo and his motorbike and all. He was mad about that car. He was at it, polishing, cleaning, every day. Giddy’s old man had pretty well given up driving, so Neil usually took him to and from work. Me, too.’

  She looked around blankly. ‘But you knew I work part-time for Giddy? When he needs extra, and when his receptionist is off in the evenings, that sort of thing. I don’t touch his computer, because she, his receptionist, proper old dragon, said she’d cut me off with a sque
ak if I did. So I don’t. Except for Facebook, of course.’

  William was open-mouthed. ‘You work for Gideon? And so does Neil? Gideon, is that true?’

  ‘Why not?’ Gideon was abrupt.

  Faye nodded. ‘Almost nine months, now.’ She concentrated on painting colour on to her eyelids.

  Bea handed the tablet to Ninette. ‘You employed him in your party business. How well did you know him?’

  Ninette was caught up in a censorship battle, not knowing what to admit or deny. She shot a glance at Alaric, who looked boot-faced as usual. No help there. ‘Well, yes, I knew him. On a strictly employer and employee basis. He was a competent chauffeur and kept his limo spotless. He was always on time. What’s not to like?’

  Faye put the boot in. ‘But you sampled what else he had to offer, didn’t you? You think I didn’t know what it meant when you made him go back for you after he’d taken me and the clients back home?’

  Alaric clicked his lighter on again, and lit his cheroot. He’d heard. Had he understood what Faye meant? Yes, of course he had.

  Bea said, ‘Alaric, I have already asked you not to smoke here. If you don’t put your cheroot out, I shall have a short-sighted moment, assume you’re on fire and dowse you with a jug of water.’

  Alaric ground out his cheroot and got to his feet. ‘Well, I’d best be going then. Ninette, I’ll speak to you later.’ He turned away from Ninette. He was shedding Ninette because she’d granted favours to Neil? Did he no longer consider that Ninette was a suitable partner?

  Ninette jumped up and pawed at Alaric’s arm. ‘Don’t go yet. Not without Alicia. And … well, with Neil … that wasn’t anything, you know. Faye is making far too much of it. She’s jealous, I suppose.’

  That stung Faye into action. ‘Of you? That’s rich! Neil told me every time he had it off with you in the back of his car. We used to laugh about it. I mean, you really are a bit old for him!’

  Ninette went a sickly pale. And yes, they could all see for the first time that she was mutton dressed as lamb. Late thirties or even early forties, trying to look twenty-five?

  Bea’s eyes were on Alaric, who was so very, very hard to read. She said, ‘Alaric, I really don’t understand why you want to hang on to Alicia. She was costing you a lot in school fees and you can’t pretend you feel for her as a father should. Why not let her go?’

  Ninette lost it completely. ‘Can’t you see why? Oh, in the old days he wanted to be rid of her because he had to pay her school fees, or as much of them as Daphne couldn’t manage, and she threw money around like water, so he often did have to come up with the readies when she discovered a hole in her finances which, let me tell you, was far oftener than he expected when he married her, but now is different. He’s Alicia’s next of kin now. Can’t you see that – with Josh and Daphne dead – Alicia inherits the lot, which means that Alaric will be able to use her money to keep himself going!’

  Alaric back-handed her. ‘Shut it! Slut!’

  Ninette fell back into her chair. Spurting tears of humiliation and rage, she screamed, ‘I’m not a slut! And if they can’t work it out, I can! If the girl dies, you inherit the lot!’

  Bea was appalled. She’d suspected … no, she’d half thought and dismissed the idea. She looked around to see what reaction the others had had.

  William’s eyes narrowed. He’d worked it out, too.

  Heavy breathing and rounded eyes from everyone else.

  Except Steve, who clambered to his feet, took aim … and knocked Alaric into the fireplace! Where he lay, too shocked to move.

  Someone cheered. Bea thought it might have been herself.

  A sense of satisfaction spread through the room.

  Steve nursed a bruised fist. Mel put her arms around him and drew him back to the settee. Kissing him, wherever she could reach. ‘Oh, Steve! You are wonderful!’

  Ninette gave a little hiccup. ‘Oh!’ Was she smiling? Yes, she was. She wasn’t displeased to see Alaric take some punishment.

  William stepped over to the fireplace, reached down and jerked Alaric to his feet. William was breathing hard. He was going to hit Alaric, too?

  ‘No, William!’ Bea caught his arm. She could feel him stiffen under her hand, but then, slowly, he relaxed his hold on Alaric.

  Alaric slumped to the floor with one hand to his jaw. His hair had been ruffled, and so had his dignity. ‘I’ll sue the lot of you!’ He spoke indistinctly. Perhaps Steve had loosened a tooth or two?

  ‘No, you won’t, Alaric,’ said Bea, ‘because this stops right here. Sit down, everyone who’s standing. William, sit! Alaric, back in your chair! Ninette, shut it!’

  Heavy breathing. Slowly, they resumed their seats. Even Alaric.

  Bea fixed them with a beady eye. ‘Now that we’ve uncovered some of the poison that’s been circulating, we can work out precisely what each of you did to bring about the tragedy on Friday night. And then perhaps we can think up a solution to the case which may avoid criminal proceedings. Yes, Alaric, I said “criminal proceedings”. So shut up and listen.’

  Alaric mumbled something, hand clasped to jaw.

  Bea cut him off with a gesture. ‘Let’s see if I’ve got it right. Some time ago Josh became disillusioned with Gideon’s business practices. Josh had always taken his eldest son Steve for granted, but had come to appreciate him more when Steve moved back home to look after his father. Josh was anxious for the future of his granddaughter and worried about his daughter Daphne, who spent money like water, and who was about to link up with a young man who didn’t give a toss about Alicia … No, Giorgio: you can’t make us believe you loved the child. You were far too young to take her on.’

  Giorgio shrugged, then nodded agreement. ‘Yeah, maybe. Though I’d have tried, you know.’

  Perhaps he would.

  Bea continued, ‘Meanwhile Alaric – who had formally adopted Alicia when married to Daphne – was feeling the pinch financially as she wasn’t the cash cow he’d thought she’d be, plus he would have to go on contributing to Alicia’s school fees, even after the divorce went through. Also, he’d collected Ninette who didn’t fancy taking on a stepdaughter. So far so good? Yes, everyone?’

  Everyone nodded, some with reluctance.

  Bea said, ‘Acting with the best of intentions, Josh asked Steve to let his office manager, Cecil Thurrock, transfer to Gideon’s department. Cecil did so, and confirmed Josh’s worse fears. Gideon sacked Cecil on a trumped-up charge. Josh failed to confront Gideon, and Steve failed to reassure Cecil that he’d still get his pension. Cecil died, and his son Neil – who was already working for most of the personnel concerned – confronted Gideon, who sacked him as well and told him to vacate his flat.

  ‘Now we have to think how Neil would take this. I imagine that he seethed with rage. How dare they treat him and his father like that! He wanted to hurt the family as he had been hurt. He wanted revenge and he was well placed for that, wasn’t he? He knew all the family secrets from his father, who’d worked for Josh for thirty years. He knew Faye because they lived in the same building and because she worked for Gideon. He knew Ninette because she employed him in her capacity as party organizer for Gideon. He listened to the family’s phone calls and conversations while he was driving them around. He listened to the tittle-tattle which Ninette and Faye fed him. He knew who was doing what, when, why and to whom. He was an angry time bomb, primed with background information, waiting for someone to light the fuse.’

  She swung round on Alaric. ‘You supplied the match, didn’t you? You knew Ninette was on good terms with Neil. You heard from Ninette how badly Neil had been treated, and how angry he was. And one day, struggling with a mountain of bills, you said, “Who will rid me of this turbulent priest?” Or, in other words, “How wonderful it would be if Alicia were to meet with an accident, and then I wouldn’t have to find the money for her school fees!”’

  Alaric laughed in her face. ‘Prove it!’ And then said, ‘Ouch!’ and put his hand back to hi
s jaw.

  Bea said, ‘Ninette?’

  Ninette shrugged. ‘I suppose. Yes, something like that.’

  ‘And you told Neil, half in jest.’

  Another shrug from Ninette. ‘I might have. I thought he’d be interested. He was always interested in bits of gossip about my clients. I told him in confidence, of course.’

  ‘Ninette, you told him with malice aforethought because you knew Neil was furiously angry with the family already and you didn’t want to have to look after a ten-year-old child. Alaric lit the match, and you applied it to the fuse.’

  ‘Nonsense.’ With a flounce. But then she chewed her lip.

  Bea said, ‘All right. Let’s move on. How did Neil hear about the problem at Josh’s house with the electrics?’

  Ninette said, hesitantly, ‘Oh, that? Josh asked Neil if he knew of anyone. Neil asked me if he should volunteer to look at the problem because he’s good with his hands, but he wasn’t qualified to tackle such a big job. I gave him the address of the electrical firm we’d used in my office building. And he told Josh.’

  ‘Josh contacted the firm you recommended, and gave them the work. Finally, Neil heard about the party Josh was arranging for his granddaughter and her little friend from – well, it could have been from Josh, or Faye, or Ninette.’

  Faye spoke up. ‘We were all invited. We all knew. We all heard the fuss the kids were making about fireworks, and I suppose I did tell Neil, just casually, not thinking … And Neil asked me if I needed him that night, and I said “No”, because Giddy was taking me … only when my pearls got broken, Giddy abandoned me! He left me there, in the dark!’ She produced a realistic sob.

  ‘So there it was,’ said Bea. ‘Not just one but every member of the family and their past and present girlfriends were all going to be there that night. What a stroke of luck! Neil found out which days the official electricians were working at the house, and which they weren’t. He went in to suss the place out. Working so much for Josh, Mrs Frost would have let him in, and not thought anything of it. If challenged, he could say he’d been sent to pick up a coat which Josh had forgotten … but I doubt if he were ever challenged. He was seen by Giorgio and probably also by Daphne, but it never occurred to either of them that he wasn’t kosher. Faye says he was clever with electrics. He bought and sabotaged a box of indoor fireworks, which he was pretty sure the children would want to set off that night. On the afternoon of the party, he entered the house for one last time, to add the box of fireworks to the children’s presents, and to set the timers in the kitchen, in the dining room and on the top landing. Then he walked out and went about his business. He was not going to be anywhere near when the fires started. And what was more, no one at the table knew that anything was going to happen, and behaved innocently when it did!’