False Pride

by Veronica Heley

  ‘I was told that when the twins did … whatever it was … the trust paid out considerable sums of money to stop the news getting into the papers. Lord Rycroft wouldn’t let his nephews go to prison, but he tried to rein them in by threatening to terminate the lease of the gaming house at which they were employed, because that happens to be on Rycroft property. And you haven’t heard any of this from me. Understand?’

  ‘Understood. Another cuppa?’ Bea poured again.

  ‘Mm. Please. But this morning … I just don’t understand it. Lucas has breakfast on the dot of eight thirty: orange juice, two boiled eggs with soldiers, two croissants with butter and black cherry jam. A pot of tea, strong Yorkshire, and The Times. The doorbell rang and I answered it. A courier was there with a package to be signed for. I signed and took the packet in to Lucas, who opened it straightaway. I noticed he’d spilled some tea in his saucer. He hates that, so I took away his cup and saucer and got a replacement from the kitchen. By the time I got back he was flapping sheets of paper around. He wanted to know if I’d seen a key which ought to have been in with the papers. I shook the envelope and a key dropped out onto the tablecloth. He put it in his waistcoat pocket.

  ‘He abandoned his breakfast. That was unheard of. He’d only eaten one of his eggs and the other … I suppose it’s still sitting on the table in the kitchen. He went off to make a phone call in his study. I don’t know who to. When he came out, he put some paperwork in his old briefcase and told me to call a taxi. He said he had to run an errand at the bank, urgently. I reminded him that he had an appointment that morning to discuss sitting for his portrait—’

  ‘With Piers? My ex-husband? So that’s where he fits into this puzzle?’

  ‘Exactly. Some society or other – something to do with his work on long-forgotten portrait painters in Italy – wanted to have a portrait of Lucas to hang on their walls. Lucas had grumbled when the project was first mooted. It would take time away from his work, he didn’t know what to wear, and so on. He was really flattered, of course, but didn’t like to admit it. I got his academic gown cleaned – he got a first at Cambridge and luckily still had the gown – and I arranged for him to have his hair cut before we met Piers to discuss arrangements.

  ‘So there he was this morning, all set to go straight out to the bank until I reminded him about meeting Piers. He said he had plenty of time to attend to his other business first. Then he had second thoughts. He said I should go with him to the bank because he didn’t want to tote his briefcase around all morning. He said that while he was having his hair cut, I could go on ahead of him to the studio and he’d join me in due course. He was pleased with himself for working that out. He also said it would be good for me to go, as I could take his gown to show Piers what he’d like to wear. It didn’t occur to him that Piers might not be pleased if I arrived early. That was Lucas for you.

  ‘So off we went to the bank. I sat in the entrance hall at the bank with his gown over my arm while he disappeared into the bowels of the building. He wasn’t long. About half an hour, I suppose. When he came out, we took another taxi to Piers’s place. In the taxi he took a phone call on his mobile. I don’t know who it was from. He said, “Yes, I’ve got it.” He asked me for Piers’s address, and I wrote it on a page torn out of my diary and handed it to him. He’s hopeless about remembering things like that so I always have to write them down for him.

  ‘He repeated the address to whoever was on the phone. He said he’d meet them there, and that if he were a few minutes late it wouldn’t matter because I was with him and could look after the briefcase while he had his hair cut. When we got to Piers’s place, he handed me the briefcase and said he wouldn’t be long. He left me standing there on the pavement with the briefcase and his gown, while he took the taxi on to the barber’s. And that was the last I saw of him.’

  ‘What time was that, do you know?’

  ‘About ten fifteen, something like that. Possibly a bit before. His appointment with Piers was for eleven, so he just had time to get to the barber’s and back.’

  Bea added it up: courier, key … safe deposit box. Jewellery?

  Magda reached for a tissue in the box on the table, and blew her nose. ‘The last thing he said to me was, “Guard it with your life!” Even at the time I thought it was odd.’

  ‘You took the briefcase in to Piers’s house?’

  ‘I had to explain to him why I was a little early. I said about the haircut and Lucas promising not to be long. I didn’t tell Piers why I was carrying a briefcase. Perhaps he thought it was a prop that Lucas wanted to use. He was so nice, Piers. Made me a cup of coffee, and we chatted about this and that.’

  Piers was nice to all women, especially pretty women. He couldn’t help himself. Mind you, thought Bea, Magda is not especially pretty. She had strong bones, though, and good skin. She’d probably age well. Piers would have liked that.

  Magda said, ‘The time passed quickly, but I couldn’t help worrying about what Lucas had got himself involved in. Couriers and keys and taking stuff out of the bank. Stuff he didn’t want to carry around to the barber’s. I wanted to look inside the briefcase but it didn’t seem right to do so because he’d trusted me to look after it for him. I was uneasy.’ She stopped and looked at Bea. ‘You know his studio?’

  Bea shook her head. ‘He likes to move around, takes short-term leases. We keep in touch, but I haven’t visited this particular place. It’s in West London somewhere, isn’t it?’

  ‘Mm. A small, three-bedroom house, end of terrace. It has a loft conversion with huge skylights in the roof at the back, and that’s the room he uses for his studio. He sleeps down below and works up above. At eleven o’clock the doorbell rang. He went downstairs to let Lucas in … only of course it wasn’t Lucas.’

  ‘It was the twins?’

  ‘I knew about them. Lucas had said things in passing, and I’d had them on the phone many, many times, ordering me to put Lucas on, and him shaking his head and letting me make excuses for him. So when I heard them on the staircase, shouting for Lucas and telling Piers to get lost, I recognized their voices. I remembered Lucas telling me to guard his briefcase with my life. I had no time to find a good hiding place, so I put it on the stand in the middle of the room, the one with the chair on it for a sitter. I threw the gown over the briefcase and stepped away. They burst in and started yelling for Lucas.’

  ‘What did Piers do when they broke in?’

  ‘He got his mobile out. He tried to block their entry, saying, “Steady on,” or words to that effect. They were rough. Pushed him back and back. He told them to leave. One of them punched him on the jaw, and he fell down. Knocked out! Just like that. I’d never seen it happen before. I couldn’t believe it. They took his mobile phone and kicked him a couple of times. I thought they’d killed him. I didn’t know what to do – they frightened me!’

  ‘They’d frighten anyone.’

  ‘I got my own mobile phone out to ring the police but they turned on me, plucked the phone from my hand and stamped on it. They kept demanding that I give them the briefcase. They’d never seen me before and all I could think of was to pretend that I was someone else, sent by the agency to do some work for Piers. I cried. It didn’t take much to bring tears to my eyes. I wept and I sobbed, and acted like a complete drip, but I was so afraid … they had knocked Piers out so quickly. I was afraid they’d killed him and, if they’d killed Piers, they could kill me, too. One of them punched me hard, on my breast.’

  Magda put her hand to it. ‘It hurt. They kept shouting, “Where’s Lucas? What’s he done with the stuff?” I kept shaking my head and saying I didn’t know any Lucas. They pushed me down into a chair, the chair for the sitter. They held my arms up and …’ She licked her lips. ‘It hurt. But I wouldn’t, I couldn’t give them the briefcase. I made my mind blank so they couldn’t see I knew about it. I kept saying my name was Harris, that I worked for an agency who’d sent me to Piers to do some work for him. I begged them to belie
ve me, and eventually, I think they did.’

  ‘You gave them the agency’s name?’

  ‘Yes. That was a mistake, but I was frantic to convince them I had nothing to do with Lucas. I’m sorry. I’ve dragged you into something which has nothing to do with you.’

  ‘It can’t be helped. What happened next?’

  ‘They took the place apart. They opened every cupboard, every door. They overturned the table with Piers’s paints on and pulled the blinds off the windows. I wept and cowered in a corner. I tried to creep away while their backs were turned, but they caught me at the door and brought me back. Dumped me back in the chair. I was so scared. My foot was touching the briefcase under the gown. I was sure they’d see it, but they didn’t. I couldn’t think how this would end. If Piers were dead …? He didn’t move. When they’d finished searching the place, they asked me again where Lucas was, and again I said I didn’t know any Lucas, but Piers had told me he had a sitting scheduled for that morning and was that supposed to be the Lucas they were talking about?’

  ‘And that worked?’

  ‘Yes.’ She wept and rubbed tears away. ‘The silly thing was that I really didn’t know where Lucas was. Truly I didn’t.’

  Bea reached out to hold Magda’s hand. ‘You guarded his treasures for him.’

  ‘Yes, but … at a cost.’ She straightened her back. ‘I don’t regret it. Only … what will they do when they find out I fooled them again?’

  THREE

  Saturday noon and on

  Bea said, ‘But they did leave, eventually.’

  Magda nodded. ‘Yes, but you should have seen the mess! And me in pieces. I looked for a landline phone to ring the police and an ambulance for Piers, but couldn’t find one. Lots of people don’t have them nowadays, do they? Then Piers began to move around. He sat up. He’d only been knocked out for a short time, had come round to find them searching the place and thought it best to play dead till they’d gone. I was so relieved. But worried sick. What was going on? What had happened to Lucas? Where was he?

  ‘I told Piers what I knew about Tweedledum and Tweedledee and the family, and I know I shouldn’t have told him anything, but I was so frightened that I did. I told him about Lucas giving me the briefcase to keep safe. We looked inside. Boxes of jewellery. Old boxes, leather. With a crest on. Inside, diamonds. Tiaras, necklaces, rings. I nearly fainted when I saw. Piers said there was a fortune there.

  ‘I asked Piers what we should do. Go to the police, or …? The thing is, I didn’t know why Lucas had taken the stuff out of the bank in the first place. He isn’t a thief. I swear it. Surely, if he took things out of the bank, he must have had the right to do so? Only … he isn’t the heir to his brother or his brother’s estate, so what right had he to do that? I couldn’t understand, Piers couldn’t understand … Surely Lucas would never think of … but that’s what he’d done. We decided we needed to find him.

  ‘Piers had an old landline still connected, downstairs. He used that to ring Lucas’s mobile. I was frantic to warn him. No service. Lucas is careless about charging up his phone and might well have forgotten to do so. He’d taken a call in the cab, but what if that finished the battery? He only uses his phone for emergencies, you see. My phone and Piers’s smartphone were both in pieces on the floor. I thought, what if the twins had caught up with Lucas …? They had gone out looking for him, hadn’t they? Piers said I should come here to you while he went to the barber’s to find out what had happened to Lucas, and then he’d meet me here, too. Only, he hasn’t come, and the twins have.’

  Bea sighed. ‘You’d already told them which agency you worked for, so they decided to check out your story.’

  ‘Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t think quickly enough.’

  ‘When Lucas took the phone call in the cab, was it from one of the twins?’

  ‘No. No, I’m sure it wasn’t.’

  Then how had the twins known she was in the cab with Lucas? According to Magda, Lucas hadn’t decided to take Magda with him to the bank until AFTER the phone call he’d made, interrupting his breakfast. Magda couldn’t be telling the whole truth. Which meant … Bea wasn’t sure what it meant. Also, the twins had referred to someone they called ‘Herself’, who was busy that morning. Who was this woman? Not Magda, presumably. Or was it?

  Magda frowned. ‘The twins …? It’s difficult to explain, but … Lucas’s manner with the twins is different. He didn’t care for them. He said they were a waste of space, if not worse, and that the way they carried on, they were likely to end up in prison. He saw no reason why the trust should continue to support them. He said that if he’d been administering the trust, he would have made them pay rent for the very nice flat in which they lived, and reduced their allowances, and made them work for their living. They don’t do anything much, you know. They hang around the gaming club and they go to the races and that’s about it. When Lucas did have to speak to the twins, he was terse, monosyllabic. Would hardly give them the time of day. The man who phoned him—’

  ‘It was a man, not a woman?’

  Magda bit her lip. ‘I can’t be certain. No, I think it was a man. Lucas’s tone to him was business-like, but he spoke to him as to an equal. I would say it was someone he respected.’

  ‘His elder brother? Lord Rycroft would have had every right to ask someone to get the jewellery from the bank, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘Y-yes. But why would he do that?’

  ‘Not married, no daughters wanting to show off their bling?’

  A faint smile. ‘No, not that I’ve heard about. Although I suppose, if he did take up with a woman and want to marry her, he’d have every right to show her the jewels. But, no. Wouldn’t he rather have taken her to the bank to see them?’

  ‘What is your explanation, then?’

  A hesitation. ‘I’m being fanciful, but I have been wondering if someone else in the family was in debt and wanted to lay their hands on the jewellery. They themselves couldn’t access it because it was kept in the bank. They hoaxed Lucas into taking the jewels out of the bank for them, and planned for him to hand them over at Piers’s place. Then they could sell the jewels and blame Lucas when it was discovered they were missing.’

  ‘You think the twins arranged it?’

  Magda leaked uncertainty. ‘I don’t know … I suppose they could have forged a letter from Lord Rycroft, asking Lucas to get the jewels out of the safe deposit box. Paid a courier to deliver …’ Her voice trailed away. She wasn’t happy with her theory.

  Bea wasn’t, either. ‘For a start, how would the twins get hold of the key to the safety deposit box, in order to send it to Lucas? And presumably there was some kind of authorization in that paperwork which persuaded the bank to release the stuff? How could they have forged that?’

  Magda wailed, ‘I know, I know! It doesn’t add up, does it?’

  ‘Is the paperwork still in the briefcase?’

  ‘No. I looked. Lucas must have left it with the bank. I suppose the officials there wouldn’t have been keen to release hundreds of thousands of pounds’ worth of gems unless they had proper releases. They would trust Lucas, though. I mean, he’s so clearly honest. I think he’s been made the fall guy for some kind of scam, though I can’t see how it was done.’

  ‘And, we’ve still got the jewels.’

  ‘And the twins, and who knows who else, are going to come after us for them.’ Magda smoothed more cream on her bruises. ‘Ouch. By the way, I hid the boxes in the hut at the bottom of your garden, and put a layer of plastic pots over them. Can you think of a better hiding place?’

  ‘I can’t think, full stop,’ said Bea. ‘I’m worried about Piers. He sent you here, but hasn’t been in touch.’

  ‘He hasn’t got a mobile phone now, and neither have I.’ She looked at her watch. ‘It’s well over an hour since he put me in a taxi and said he’d follow. Where is he? And if he’s been held up somewhere, how is he going to contact me?’

  Bea put on a brave face. ‘P
iers can borrow a phone, or get to a public phone box. He can always ring here.’

  ‘But he hasn’t.’ She shivered. ‘I’m not going to panic. I’m not! I am not hysterical, not in the least. But two of them went off to the barber’s and … what happened? Did they drop into a black hole?’

  ‘Is Sweeney Todd alive and living in … which barber’s did you send him to?’

  Magda pressed both hands to her head. ‘I’m going mad. I do know, don’t I? I wrote the address down on a card, and Lucas put it in his pocket so he wouldn’t forget where he was going. It’s on the tip of my tongue.’

  ‘You’d have chosen a good one. Possibly not near Piers’s studio?’

  ‘No, of course not. It had to be good. Lucas hasn’t had his hair cut in years. Wore it in a ponytail. Kept it clean, but … too, too sixties. Or is it seventies? Aging rock-star look. Ridiculous. I know; the place is called The Director’s Cut. Men only. When I made the appointment I explained what was needed and they understood.’

  ‘Might the long hair have been a good look for a portrait?’

  ‘It might, but I think Lucas had got tired of it. As soon as the word “portrait” was mentioned, he said he didn’t want to look a freak and it was time for a change.’ She sighed. ‘Actually, I quite liked the way he looked, but …’

  It occurred to Bea that Magda had a soft spot for her employer.

  Magda looked at her watch again. ‘Where is he?’

  Bea accessed a number on her landline. ‘I’ll try Piers’s house. You said he’s got a landline on the ground floor? Lucas might have gone back there as he’d said he would. Or Piers might well have returned by now.’