False Impression

by Veronica Heley

  ‘I’m having death threats on the phone and via our computers.’

  ‘Get your techie to find out where they come from, and put your solicitors on to it.’

  Bea sighed. ‘Point taken. Have a wonderful time away. Hey, wait a minute. Let me think … there’s something … Ah yes, I know. Remember Al Capone? They couldn’t prove he’d murdered all those men, way back, so they got him for fiddling his taxes. Right? Now I realize you can’t interfere with what your colleague is doing, but you could take an interest in some of the other things that have been happening, couldn’t you?’

  ‘I told you, I’m going on leave. I can’t help.’ Pause. ‘No doubt you’ll invite me round for supper sometime. Perhaps tonight?’

  He might have had his knuckles rapped, but he was risking that happening again in order to help her. Well done, Inspector. ‘I haven’t a clue what we’re going to eat, but yes, come and take pot luck.’

  Anna was still talking on the phone to someone at the college, so Bea left her to it and went downstairs to see how Keith and Dilys were getting on with the local constabulary. She really hadn’t the time to waste to fill them in on what had been happening. She needed to get right away and THINK! Could she get away with being a dithery old lady when dealing with the police? Would they want to arrest her for throwing water over the man in the hoodie who’d been trying to refocus the camera in the porch?

  The two PCs were in the kitchen, drinking tea, eating biscuits and taking notes. Keith was blinding them with science, giving them chapter and verse about the camera, who made it, what it did, etcetera. The PCs were valiantly trying to keep up. ‘You mean, someone’s got it in for you? Do you know who it is?’

  Keith scratched the back of his neck. His beard had been closely trimmed and actually looked rather good, but the barber must have left some loose hairs around his collar, and so, he scratched. ‘I don’t know, exactly, no.’

  Time for Bea to put in a word. ‘We’ve had lots of hate mail coming through on our computers in the agency downstairs. If you took a look at them, Keith, you’d be able to work out who sent them?’

  Keith lightened up. ‘Let’s go. I’ll lead the way, shall I?’

  Carrie was the only member of staff still downstairs. She was frowning at her computer. ‘Mrs Abbot, how can we stop these emails? They don’t count as spam. I’ve tried blocking all the ones coming from a particular source, but it’s not working. It’s giving me a headache!’

  ‘Let’s see,’ said Keith, capably taking over her seat and reaching for the mouse. The two PCs hovered, interested, willing to learn.

  Bea’s mobile phone rang, and she went into her office to take the call. ‘Leon?’

  ‘I think I recognize your voice, but what date are we on?’

  ‘Twenty-ninth of November. Where are you, and when are you coming home?’

  ‘I’m on the steps of the bank, waiting for Hari to turn up with his bike.’

  She relaxed into her chair. ‘Dressed appropriately for the City, I trust? Did the meeting go well?’

  ‘No bowler hat, but they didn’t raise an eyebrow when I walked in wearing the motorcycle helmet Hari made me put on when we left the police station. The bankers have been mollified. The police said they’d pass the laptop on to someone … goodness knows when. The morning went well enough, I suppose, but now I’m short of another laptop.’

  ‘We’ve got hate mail here too, in the office. Keith is looking at it at the moment, with two members of the police force breathing down his neck. I’m also getting abusive calls on my landline phone. Anna’s OK. Dilys is more than OK. So far we’ve been able to repel all invaders. Inspector Durrell is trying to help us but he’s about to take some leave. His colleague is going after Margrete Walford’s husband and refuses to listen to anything Durrell says. Has even been rather unkind to him.’

  A grunt. ‘That won’t stop Durrell if I read him aright.’

  ‘He’s worn out. I told you, he’s put in for leave, but he’s going to come for supper tonight. I haven’t a clue what I’ll be cooking …’

  ‘Can’t you and I go out somewhere?’

  ‘And leave Anna, Orlando, Dilys and Keith to fend for themselves?’

  ‘Understood. Leave it to me. I’ll get something sent in. How is Anna, anyway?’

  ‘Much better. Dilys is blossoming, becoming quite bossy. Keith has had a haircut.’

  ‘And you?’ His voice dropped an octave.

  She felt herself become quite breathless. Oh, Mr Darcy! What an effect a deep voice could have on a woman!

  ‘Me?’ She cleared her throat. ‘I’m fine. I’ve had an idea, though. If you’ve got Hari and his bike at your disposal, do you think you could zip out to Mr Adamsson’s house before returning here? And yes, I know it’s quite a way, right across town and along the Great West Road. But I think it would be worth it.’

  ‘You’ve news? Has Adamsson been located in France? Is he on his way home?’

  ‘I don’t think so. There’s a John Doe in the morgue who might answer his description. No ID. No clothes.’

  Leon muttered something which she didn’t ask him to repeat. He said, heavily, ‘I liked the man.’

  ‘It might not be him. The inspector can’t be sure. I thought that if we could get the name of his dentist out of Mr Adamsson senior we might be able to prove it one way or the other. We know he doesn’t answer his phone, but if you went out there in person …?’

  A long sigh. ‘Yes. I’ll see what I can do. Here’s Hari now.’

  She could hear a powerful motorbike draw up and idle.

  He said, ‘I’ve got to put on this dratted helmet, so I’ll ring off. Depending on traffic, I should be back with you about seven or half past.’

  He clicked off. Bea breathed long and deeply, and went to admire Keith’s work on the computers. Praise be for Keith. The police were happy bunnies, too, as he’d actually got them to understand what had been happening and … double praise be!… managed to stop it.

  Statements all round. What a bore. But if it stopped the hate mail from coming …

  Carrie was all perky. ‘You learn something every day. Not, I sincerely hope, that I’ll be called upon to deal with such a thing ever again.’

  The police took themselves off. Ditto Carrie, though she hinted strongly enough that she’d like to join them for supper. Bea’s face ached with smiling.

  Dilys said she’d borrowed some clothing from Bea’s wardrobe so that Anna could join them for supper and was that all right? Bea supposed so.

  She dithered. Leon had said he’d get something sent in for supper, but what had he meant by that, and had he reckoned on … how many people? Bea was reduced to counting on her fingers, which showed her how much the day had taken it out of her. She counted up to seven and hoped that was all.

  Keith picked up her moment of indecision. ‘Shall I send out for some pizzas?’

  The buzzer sounded. Dilys let Orlando in. He said, ‘I’m weary to death, in case you’d like to know. I was going to go out somewhere for supper, but it all seemed too much trouble so I thought I might as well see what you’ve got on the menu.’ He hadn’t thought to bring anything in himself, of course.

  The buzzer sounded again. A delivery boy on a bike.

  ‘Careful!’ cried Dilys. ‘It might be a bomb.’

  It wasn’t a bomb, thankfully. Leon had organized and paid for a full Chinese meal with innumerable dishes accompanied by plain and special rice.

  Anna appeared, wearing one of Bea’s dresses, asking if she could help lay the table. Dilys decided they should eat at the big table in the sitting room and got Anna to help her. Keith said he didn’t know about anyone else, but he’d enjoy a beer and would fetch some in. Where was the nearest off-licence?

  Bea gave him directions, and he returned at the same time as Leon and Hari drove up.

  Leon said, ‘All right to bring Hari’s bike indoors? He doesn’t want to leave it in the street.’ The men didn’t wait for permission b
ut manoeuvred a giant motorbike into her hallway, where it looked as alien as a helicopter and took up about as much room. Hari proved to be a dark-skinned – possibly Maltese? – youngish man who moved like oiled silk. He was wearing black leather. He brought with him an air of cold efficiency but managed to smile when Bea welcomed him into the house and thanked him for looking after Leon so well.

  ‘It’s my job,’ said Hari. ‘Where’s the sleeping beauty? I want to talk to her about her car.’

  Bea waved him into the living room. ‘Anna. She’s anxious to talk to you, too.’ She’d miscounted. They were going to be eight for supper, not seven, because Hari would need feeding as well.

  Leon put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. He was dressed in his city clothes.

  ‘All right?’ she said, checking that all his bits and pieces were in place.

  He nodded. ‘Not too bad. I have some news for the inspector. How are you doing?’

  ‘I need time to think, and I’m not getting it.’

  Another ring at the doorbell, and there was the inspector, brushing rain off his jacket. He, too, gave Bea a hug, his nose whiffling. ‘Is that Chinese I can smell? I could eat a horse.’

  Dilys sang out, ‘Come and get it!’

  Keith found glasses and poured beer. Bea placed bottles of water on the table for those who preferred it. Leon took his seat at the head of the table and Bea at the foot, which was the correct seating plan for the head of the household and his wife. Bea didn’t object, as this gave her the inspector on her right and Orlando on her left. Leon had Dilys and Anna on either side of him. Bea was interested to note that Hari managed to get himself seated next to Anna. Bea made the introductions.

  Hari and Anna looked at one another with reserve but interest. Anna hadn’t washed her hair yet and had piled it up in a simple knot at the back of her head. She couldn’t do anything about the livid bruise on her face, but Hari certainly didn’t seem to be repelled by it. Bea reflected that they made a distinctive but mismatched couple: one so dark and the other so fair; she from the top of one profession and Hari, no doubt, at the top of his. But then, Bea told herself that she and Leon were also mismatched, for what had she to do with the affairs of multi-million corporations, and what had he to do with a small if thriving domestic agency?

  ‘Cheers!’ said Dilys. She took a gulp of beer and choked. ‘Oh, Keith! This beer is strong. I’d better not drink too much.’

  ‘I’ll pour you some water, shall I?’

  ‘I suggest we all eat first,’ said Leon. ‘Talk later.’

  That was good sense. But even while dealing with the food, they couldn’t keep off the adventures of the day.

  Orlando started it: ‘You’ll never guess who rang me today. My darling ex-partner Charles. Wanting to know how I was holding up.’

  ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ said Bea. ‘Making up and all that?’

  Orlando pulled a face. ‘Jumping on to the bandwagon more like. If he’d shown any signs of sympathy when my father was killed I’d have appreciated it, but now that things are beginning to sort themselves out and I’ve come into a title he’s all over me. I contacted my father’s solicitor, who wants to see me tomorrow. He says that Father left detailed instructions for his funeral, which makes me wince, it really does, but they say it can’t be yet because …’

  Bea switched off. Anna and Hari were talking to one another. About her car? Yes, of course. But then Anna laughed and he smiled. Were they talking about the car still? Or about something else?

  Anna announced, ‘Hari says he’ll help me find whoever it was who took the battery out of my car. Who dunnit, in fact.’

  ‘You could do with me going over your security,’ said Hari. ‘As soon as I’m off this job, I’ll ring you for a date.’

  He didn’t mean a date to see to her security systems, did he? Anna and Hari touched glasses.

  Bea glanced across at Leon, and his eyes met hers, full of amusement. That was one of the joys of a good partnership, wasn’t it, that you could communicate amusement or horror without words?

  The inspector turned his attention to Keith, saying he’d heard there’d been a lot going on at the agency that day. Keith and Dilys were happy to oblige with details.

  Bea ate as much as she could, nodding and saying, ‘Yes,’ and, ‘Well, I never,’ to Orlando at the right moments. She allowed herself half a glass of beer, and then drank water. When all the cartons of Chinese food had been emptied and stacked away, coffee had been served and the fruit bowl had been placed on the table, Leon called for order by tapping his glass with a knife.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, pray silence. I am about to give you an after-dinner speech on the subject of missing persons.’

  ‘Sorry to interrupt,’ said Bea, ‘but I’ve asked the inspector here for a very particular reason. He is unable for professional reasons to investigate the murders of Lord Lethbury and Margrete Walford himself, but if we can report any other matter which would lead to police involvement, he may be able to take an interest in that. Is that right, Inspector?’

  ‘Beautifully put. But remember that I’m going on leave next week, I don’t know any of the background, and it may be that there is no way I can interfere. However …’ He placed a small tape recorder on the table. ‘Anyone object to my using this?’

  No one did.

  ‘For the record,’ the inspector said, ‘this is Inspector Durrell speaking at twenty hundred hours. Also present are …’ He held the recorder out to each of them, to speak their names. And then nodded to Bea to continue.

  ‘I understand,’ said Bea, ‘that each one of us has some knowledge of this tangled affair, so I’m going to suggest that we tell the inspector what we know, in chronological order. Much of this information has already been given to the police and therefore the inspector can’t act upon it. But he does need some essential background. Leon, over to you.’

  Leon said, ‘Well, my older brother Briscoe built up and ran Holland Holdings (Worldwide) by himself for many years. It became unwieldy, and he began to feel his age. There was a nasty incidence of financial mismanagement which could have brought the whole edifice crashing down. Mr Adamsson was appointed chief accountant to clear the mess up, and the corporation was divided into two parts; I took over the British-based companies, while my brother kept control of the Overseas Division. This was all done by the book, and Briscoe gave the split his blessing.

  ‘I moved into a flat in the big house and ran my side of the business from there. Relations with my brother were good, though he tired easily and could be crotchety on occasion. I visited him most evenings, but I kept a small flat in the Barbican for overnight use when I was travelling around. Also living in the big house were our sister Sybil, my niece Dilys, and her daughter Bernice. Dilys: would you like to say how you found your father at that time?’

  Dilys was eager to tell what she knew. ‘I saw Daddy some part of every day. I hadn’t anything much else to do as Bernice was at school and Aunt Sybil was always out. I used to take him up some of my home-made lemonade, and we played backgammon, though I’m not very good at it. He played chess with Lord Lethbury, who visited him every weekend. They looked forward to that. Daddy suggested I went out with Orlando here—’ she sent him an affectionate smile – ‘and of course that was fun in a way, but he and I are not really, we don’t exactly click …’

  Bea suppressed a smile. She noted that everyone except Orlando was also suppressing a smile.

  Dilys said, ‘Then Daddy got a really bad cold and wouldn’t let me near him for a while. After that I seemed to irritate him, and he sent me away as soon as I tapped on his door. I asked Uncle Leon what to do when he got back from one of his business trips, and …’ She looked at Leon.

  He grimaced. ‘What Dilys doesn’t know was that I’d been after my brother to make some financial provision for her, while he’d said she should marry Orlando and be done with it.’

  Orlando said, ‘We did try, didn’t we, Dilys? But it w
as never going to work.’ He explained to the inspector, ‘My father was an old friend of Mr Holland’s, and they’d hatched this plan together for us to marry.’

  Leon picked up the tale. ‘When Dilys said my brother wasn’t letting her in to see him, I tried, too. And got the same treatment. Mrs Evans – that’s his housekeeper – said he didn’t want to see me any more. My sister Sybil tried. Same thing. Sybil was due to return to the States, which is where she lives most of the year, and had planned to take Dilys and Bernice with her for a holiday. Dilys refused to go, hoping Briscoe would soon change his mind and send for her, so Sybil asked Mrs Abbot if Dilys could come here for a bit and went off with Bernice. I, too, thought he was sure to relent. But, far from it, he sent messages saying he’d finished with me, that I’d betrayed him of all things! He ordered me out of the house.’

  Bea said, ‘Let’s stop a moment and look at the timescale. Briscoe was ill, and Leon was away. After that, Briscoe sent messages saying he didn’t wish to see his family any more. Now; Leon, tell the inspector about the attempt on your life.’

  FIFTEEN

  ‘Leon grimaced. ‘I still find it hard to believe that Briscoe would send someone to kill me. But, when he forbade me to visit him, I realized I had to make alternative arrangements. I continued to sleep at the big house when I wasn’t travelling around, but I began to move my stuff out to the flat in the Barbican. I found and staffed new offices in the city. Dilys was safely out of the frame with Mrs Abbot, but she and I were not the only ones to be worried by my brother’s behaviour.

  ‘Mr Adamsson, my brother’s chief accountant, used to see my brother every morning at eleven. If Briscoe felt too frail for a visit, he’d ring Adamsson and they’d go through what needed to be done by phone. Suddenly, Mr Adamsson was informed by Mrs Evans that my brother no longer felt it necessary to speak to him every day. Adamsson was concerned. There was a lot of outstanding business and no one making decisions. Adamsson asked Mrs Evans whether Briscoe needed to see a doctor and got short shrift. He knew Briscoe and I had had a good relationship recently, so he rang me to ask for an appointment. We met at my new offices in the City last Thursday, just over a week ago.