False Impression

by Veronica Heley

  Hari was restless, prowling around the room. ‘Can Anna give you her statement first, Inspector? I want to go round the house, check that all the windows and doors are locked.’

  ‘Must I?’ said Anna. There were dark shadows under her eyes, one of which was still almost shut.

  ‘We’ll take it gently,’ said the inspector. ‘I really need your statements before I can take any action.’

  ‘More coffee, everyone?’ Dilys started to clear the table, assisted by Keith.

  Most people shook their head, but the inspector said, ‘Yes, please: it will help to keep me awake.’

  Leon took his laptop to the table at the far end by the windows down to the garden. Bea followed him. She put her arms around him from behind and rested her head against his. ‘Another new laptop?’

  ‘Mm. May I stay the night again?’

  ‘If you can manage with the settee.’

  He nodded, concentrating on what he was doing.

  Hari had followed her. He drew back the curtains and unlocked the grille which protected them from burglars. ‘There’s an iron staircase down into the garden? May I explore?’

  She nodded. It would take an exceptional burglar to climb over the high walls surrounding the gardens in this terrace of houses, but Hari was being thorough.

  Orlando said, ‘Well, I might as well go to bed,’ and went off up the stairs, making more noise than was necessary, taking out his mobile phone, starting a conversation … with his ex-partner?

  Bea made and took another cup of coffee in to the inspector, who was sitting at the table with Anna, taking her statement. Without surprise, Bea noticed that when Hari returned from the garden, he propped himself against a wall to watch Anna. Anna was very aware of Hari’s interest in her and was not objecting to it. In fact, she was playing with her hair, trying to coax it into a prettier shape. Hm. Well, the admiration on Hari’s face was doing Anna more good than aspirin.

  Hari felt Bea looking at him and made a business of looking over the front windows, opening and shutting the curtains, checking the locks. He said, ‘Nothing suspicious in the street. Do I go home, or stay on guard?’ He answered his own question. ‘I stay. Too much has been going on here to risk it.’

  ‘You want to check the bedrooms?’ She led the way upstairs. ‘I agree it’s a respite and not the end of the war. When we’re done up here, I’ll show you the alarm system.’ Did he think there might be further alarms and excursions that evening? Heaven forfend. She was too old for SAS-style manoeuvres. Leave it to the police. Now the inspector was on board, they could relax. Couldn’t they?

  Yes, there was a constant worry about Briscoe but nothing they could do that night. Leon must curb his impatience. They could all do with a good night’s sleep.

  Hari checked every room, knocking on each door and asking permission to enter. Keith and Dilys were sitting side by side in the living room at the top of the house. Orlando was pacing up and down, talking on his mobile next door. As they descended, Anna came up the stairs, slowly, holding on to the banister. ‘I told the inspector everything I know. Leon’s with him now. He’s quite bright, isn’t he?’

  Bea wasn’t sure whether Anna was referring to Leon or to Hari, who went into her room with her to check the window and look under the bed. But, it was Hari whom Anna was looking at when she spoke, and she smiled at him as they left.

  Hari checked Bea’s own bedroom, saying, ‘Anna. Spoken for?’

  ‘Forty-two. Married once, divorced. Two teenagers, now at university. Owns her own house. An excellent administrator. Ran a charity for a long time till Leon recruited her, first to run and then to own the college.’

  He nodded, testing the lock on the window at the back. ‘Forty-five last month. Married once, divorced. One son living in the States. Own my own block of flats, live in the penthouse. Worked since leaving school, own and run my own protection agency.’

  So that was his CV? Was he checking to see if she’d object to his going after Anna? Well, Bea wouldn’t object, but it would be as great a mismatch as her and Leon, wouldn’t it? She showed him how the alarm system worked in the hall and took him down to the agency rooms.

  He tested every lock, on every door and window. ‘They’ve been quiet for some hours. If they attack anywhere, it’ll be through the basement.’

  She nodded. ‘There’s a separate alarm system for the basement.’

  He frowned at it, opened his mouth to make a comment. Shrugged. ‘I could disable that in seconds. You could do with something better. I’ll see about it tomorrow.’

  Oh. Yet another thing to worry about. She showed him where they kept the spare key to the door which closed off the basement from the rest of the house.

  He said, ‘If you like, I’ll sleep down here tonight.’

  She nodded. She hoped he was mistaken in fearing another attack, but she had a feeling he wasn’t often wrong.

  He said, ‘You’re keyed up, waiting for something else to happen. What?’

  She shrugged. ‘Another distraction, I suppose. To keep us off balance. It seems to me that the killer has a cold brain. Possibly, it’s Denver. I don’t know him so can’t say if he’s capable of such efficiency. Possibly, it’s a man they’ve brought in from outside to do the deed. Someone murdered three people, disposed of Adamsson and then, job done, disappeared from the scene. He’s left it to others to do the rest: to whip Adamsson’s father away, to bug my office, put in a camera, send me a toy cat, organize hate mail. If he’d still been around then the nasty distractions we’ve faced recently wouldn’t have been so amateurish and reasonably easy to thwart. They wouldn’t have ended with a sigh of relief on our part. No, there would have been drastic consequences. It seems to me this is a good reason to think he’s an outsider and not Denver, who presumably is still at work at the big house. Mind you, if it hadn’t been for Keith, we’d be up the creek without a paddle. What terrifies me is that if we go on batting off the distractions more or less successfully, the killer will be commissioned to act again, and this time he’ll go after Leon with a vengeance.’

  She led the way back up the stairs.

  Hari said, ‘I agree. Leon, now … he thinks the world of you.’

  A buzzer sounded. Bea and Hari froze. Bea said, ‘Keith installed a buzzer under the doormat in the porch.’ They both looked at their watches. Half past ten. An ordinary caller? Not at this time of night.

  The buzzer continued to sound. The inspector appeared in the doorway of the living room with Leon behind him.

  Bea said, ‘It’s another distraction.’ And, to Hari, ‘Can you warn the others?’

  He floated up the stairs without making any sound.

  The front doorbell rang. Insistently. Leon put his arm round Bea. ‘What do you want to do? Shall I answer it?’

  Bea snapped, ‘Be your age!’ Which sharp rejoinder made him blink and had the inspector covering his mouth to hide a smile.

  Down the stairs came the others; Orlando looking cross, Dilys looking anxious and Keith looking lively. Thank God for Keith. No Anna? She’d probably gone to bed already. Hari leaned against the wall with his arms folded. Waiting to spring into action.

  Bea said, ‘I’ve always meant to have a spyhole put in the door. I really must do something about it.’

  ‘Shall I look through the curtains at the front?’ Dilys darted into the sitting room. She called back, ‘It’s that Jennifer woman, the one who used to work for us and got us bugged.’

  Everyone but Bea relaxed.

  ‘Shall I let her in?’ said Leon.

  The inspector looked at his watch. ‘It’s late. Why has she come now?’

  ‘Distraction technique.’ Bea was still wound up. ‘She’s come here to offer us something, probably not much, to distract us from … whatever it is they’re planning next. I can feel it! We mustn’t let our guard drop.’

  Jennifer pressed the bell again.

  Bea said, ‘Everything that has happened since the murders has been by way of a
distraction to stop us trying to find Adamsson. Nothing recently was meant to kill. Anna was locked into the college by mistake. Yes, there were near misses. Some were closer than others. Yes, Denver does seem to be running the show. Or Angharad. Oh, I don’t know!’

  ‘Mrs Abbot!’ Dilys, calling from the front room. Panicking. Urgent. Danger! ‘I think someone’s on the pavement on the other side of the road, looking this way. I think he’s waiting to see if we’re going to let her in. I can hardly make him out, he’s all in black and wearing a balaclava. It might be a man walking a dog—’ doubtfully – ‘but I don’t think so.’

  ‘I could do with having a word with this Jennifer woman,’ said the inspector. ‘The rest of you can disappear for the moment.’

  Leon said, ‘Into the kitchen, everybody, and push the door to. Bea, will you let her in?’

  Hari disappeared down the stairs to the agency rooms.

  Bea negotiated her way round Hari’s giant bike, shut off the alarm system and opened the door.

  ‘You took your time!’ Jennifer pushed past Bea into the hall. ‘What’s that bike doing there?’

  Bea ignored that. ‘It’s late. I don’t usually let anyone in at this time of night.’

  ‘I came to warn you. It can’t wait. Where can we talk?’

  Bea gestured that Jennifer follow her into the sitting room, where the inspector was seated waiting for them. Jennifer hesitated. ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘Inspector Durrell. An old friend. He’s very interested in what’s been happening. Have a seat. Now, what did you come to say?’

  Jennifer was uneasy. She sat, holding on to her handbag, fiddling with the clasp. ‘I came to warn you. This is so difficult. If they knew I’d come, they wouldn’t be pleased.’

  Meaning that if she’d known Bea had a policemen in the house, she wouldn’t have come?

  The inspector produced his notebook and pressed the button on his recorder. ‘Shall we start at the beginning? What’s your name, and where do you live?’

  Out of the corner of her eye, Bea saw a shadow pause in the doorway, beckoning to her. Hari.

  She excused herself and went out into the hall, pulling the door to behind her.

  Hari was smiling. ‘Another amateur. I went out by the agency door and stood in the shadows at the bottom of the stairs to have a look. Jennifer is only the starter. The main course has now arrived. A man with a long ladder, which he’s set up against the house. He’s all in black, carrying a tool bag. He’s up the ladder now, trying to fit something on to the window frame of your bedroom.’

  Bea was incensed. ‘How dare he! Right! Shall we have some fun with him?’

  She eased past the bike and opened the front door. Closely followed by Hari, she negotiated her way round the ladder to reach the forecourt between the house and the pavement. All they could see from where they stood was a man’s boots, a capacious bottom and his arms as he fiddled with something … wiring?

  What wiring? There shouldn’t be any exposed wiring there.

  Setting explosives?

  Bea shuddered. No, no. Surely not. Not in a terrace house. The damage could not possibly be contained but would affect houses on either side. There would be fatalities.

  Was the enemy prepared to go that far? No, not if previous incidents were anything to go by. They were not murderers, or they would have left Anna to die.

  On the other hand, it might be an entirely different man, with a different errand to run. It might be the killer, who didn’t object to taking human life.

  Could he be fixing up bugs which could relay what was said inside the house to the florist’s van? No, the van had gone, hadn’t it? Had they some other base in the vicinity?

  Perhaps he was fiddling with the old leaden drainpipes to cause a flood which would flush out the inhabitants …

  Well, whatever it was, it was about time it was stopped.

  She grinned. ‘Let’s shake the fruit from the tree, shall we?’

  She laid hands on one side of the ladder, and Hari took the other.

  ‘One, two, three!’ said Bea, and together they shook the ladder. It was heavy, but they managed it all right.

  ‘Oi!’ A voice from above. ‘What you think you’re doing?’

  Bea floated her voice up to him. ‘I will not put up with another burglary. Come down at once, you horrible man, do you hear?’

  ‘Wha … t?’ The man had a coil of wire in one hand and pliers in the other. He was a hefty bloke, dressed in black jogging trousers and sweater. And a balaclava. Eyes like currants in a suet pudding stared down at them in alarm. Eyes that were sending unwelcome messages to his brain. ‘You stop that, you hear?’

  Not the killer. Not enough brains to come out of the rain. ‘Let’s shake again,’ said Bea. ‘One, two, three and shake!’

  They shook.

  The man dropped his pliers and wire and clung to the ladder. ‘Help!’

  ‘What you doing, missus?’ said a passer-by.

  ‘This man is trying to burgle my house!’

  ‘You should call the police, missus.’ A concerned man, elderly, walking a small dog. That was the beauty of living in a built-up area. There were always people passing the street, going out for the evening, coming home from work, walking the dog.

  ‘I would, but my hands are full,’ said Bea. ‘Shake again, Hari. Let’s get him down before he can break the window!’

  The man yelled, ‘You can’t do this to me!’

  ‘One, two, three and shake!’

  They shook. The ‘burglar’ yelled some more. Perhaps he wasn’t all that good at heights? He hugged the ladder with both arms. His tool bag slid down the ladder and thudded to the ground. A fine collection of coils of wire and bits and pieces of black plastic spilled out. They didn’t mean anything to Bea, but she assumed they’d been supposed to be placed against her window with malice aforethought.

  ‘Alright! I’m a-coming down!’ screamed the man. ‘Don’t you dare stop me!’

  Another couple of passers-by had gathered to watch. One was taking photographs on his camera. At night? Daft creature! But the flash was disorienting the ‘burglar’ nicely. The man with the dog was using his mobile phone for a different purpose. ‘Police, please!’

  Bea shouted up, ‘It would serve you right if I put you in hospital! Your sort is scum of the earth, terrifying a poor widow woman in her own home!’

  The man yelled again as, missing his step, he slid backwards down the ladder and ended in a heap on the ground. Cameras clicked.

  The dog walker said, ‘Yes, officer. A burglar. The householder has been most resourceful, but—’

  ‘Let me out of here!’ The man blundered to his feet and shook his fist at Bea. He turned to run away and was brought down by Hari in a flying tackle.

  Bea risked a look along the street. Her own car was parked … where? Heaven forbid that it had been tampered with. She hadn’t used it for a couple of days. Suppose it had been sabotaged? What must she do to find out?

  The dog walker was an ex-army type. ‘Want me to do a citizen’s arrest, madam?’ Hari had the man in an arm lock, but the elderly man wanted to join in the fun. He must have been eighty in the shade and looked hardly capable of running, never mind apprehending a fleeing man.

  The man who’d been using his camera was still at it. ‘I’ve got five, no, six pictures of him. How long are the police going to be?’

  ‘They take their time, don’t they?’ said a woman in a fake-fur coat.

  ‘Thus perish all traitors.’ Bea clung to the ladder herself, feeling the need for support.

  The inspector appeared in the doorway, setting off the buzzer under the mat. Leon and Keith were close behind him. Dilys was dancing up and down between them. Dilys was enjoying herself. Well, she could give Bea thirty years. Or was it the other way round? Could Bea give Dilys thirty years? Whichever.

  Bea said, ‘He’s all yours, Inspector.’

  Hari pulled the man to his feet and stripped off his balaclava. />
  Dilys stopped dancing. ‘Johnny? Johnny Allister? No, it can’t be. Can it?’

  ‘One of your father’s security force?’

  ‘One of the maintenance men. Yes. I mean, I suppose he is. He was when I was living there, but … Johnny? How could you!’

  ‘My name’s not Johnny whatever.’

  Hari held him with one hand and delved into the man’s pockets with the other, producing a wallet, which he opened, one handed. ‘John Allister. Bank cards.’

  Spellbound, the gaggle of bystanders was growing by the minute. The inspector took charge. ‘Bring him up into the house, Hari. I’ll ring for reinforcements.’

  Hari propelled the man up the steps and into the house, keeping a tight hold on him. The man kept his head down, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Ashamed of himself?

  Bea was about to follow Hari in, when the woman in the fake-fur coat said, ‘You’re not going to leave the ladder there all night, are you? It’s an open invitation to burglars.’

  Yes, it was. The inspector said, ‘I’ll get my men to take it away as soon as they arrive.’ He pulled his mobile out and started talking into it.

  Bea thanked the bystanders. ‘Ladies, gentlemen: your presence of mind has saved us from a really nasty experience. May I ask you to send the photos on your camera to my office inside? I’ll give you the number. That way you won’t have to wait till the police reinforcements get here.’

  This caused the group to melt away. No one wants to wait around for the police, who would delay them from going about their business with questions and requests for statements and goodness knows what. The man who’d been taking shots showed his phone to Bea, who gave him the email address to forward the photos to her computer. Night time shots never came out well, but you never knew and these might be helpful.