As he looked at his full-length reflection, Richard found himself reminded of those shops in London that were always advertising ‘Closing Down Sale, Everything Must Go’ – and yet never seemed to close down, because there they’d be, weeks later, still advertising the ‘Closing Down Sale, Everything Must Go’. Richard’s shoulders slumped. Was that basically what his life was? A closing down sale for a failing shop that never quite managed to close down?
Richard turned from the mirror and trudged back into the main room of his shack. After all, it didn’t matter how stupid he looked. The Commissioner expected him to go undercover, so he had to go through with it.
Now all he had to do was find a pair of shoes he could wear. The only problem was, he didn’t own a single pair of shoes that even began to suit the rest of his outfit. Never mind, he thought to himself. He would just do the best he could. He wouldn’t be deterred.
It was barely five minutes later that Richard Poole found himself picking his way across the golden sands of Grand Anse beach wearing a floral Hawaiian shirt, cut-off denim shorts, black socks and a pair of polished black brogues. Luckily for him there were very few people about. But, unluckily for him, nor was there a young dreadlocked man trying to sell bottles of bootleg rum. Richard would have to go and look for their suspect on the other nearby beaches. And, as he thought this, Richard had a creeping realisation. He was standing on a beach wearing ‘touristy’ clothes (the polished brogues notwithstanding).
He tried to imagine himself wearing clothes like this on a more regular basis.
He couldn’t.
However, he did notice that the shorts and thin cotton shirt allowed the warm air to circulate better around his body, and he realised that, for the first time since he’d arrived in the Caribbean, he wasn’t actively sweating.
Were light cotton clothes like this the answer, and the devil take his knees? It seemed impossible to imagine, so Richard stopped trying to imagine it. Instead, he turned to leave the beach, only to see Dwayne and Camille heading directly over the sand towards him.
‘Loving the outfit!’ Camille called out, and as much as her face was split with a wide grin, Richard could see that it was as nothing compared to the delight he could see on Dwayne’s face.
Richard turned bright red with embarrassment.
‘What are you two doing here?’ he asked, as Dwayne and Camille approached.
‘Offering mission-critical support, sir,’ Camille said.
‘Oh you are, are you?’ Richard said, trying to use bravado to hide the fact that he was shrivelling up with shame on the inside.
‘Of course. What if you need back-up?’
‘Well, as you can see, our bootleg rum seller isn’t here.’
‘He isn’t?’ Dwayne said, as though this was the biggest disappointment he’d ever faced in his life, and then he balled up his fist and smashed it in apparent frustration into the palm of his other hand. ‘He’s outsmarted us again!’
‘So there was no point you coming down here at all.’
Dwayne pretended that this was now the second biggest disappointment he’d ever faced in his life.
‘Although, sir,’ Camille chipped in. ‘Now we’re here, can I say something?’
‘No you can’t.’
‘It’s just—’
‘I said no, you can’t say anything.’
‘I just wanted to say I think you’re looking good.’
It took Richard a few moments to realise what Camille had just said to him.
‘What’s that?’
‘I just thought you’d want to know. I think that outfit suits you.’
‘Camille’s right,’ Dwayne said. ‘You’re looking good there, Chief.’
Richard tried to see sarcasm in the eyes of his subordinates, but all he actually saw were looks of kindness. Richard concluded that they were therefore dissembling.
‘Well, if you’ve finished laughing at me – and seeing as we all agree our bootleg rum seller isn’t here – then I think I’ll be on my way. I’ve got at least another five beaches I need to visit tonight.’
‘I’m being serious, sir,’ Camille said, as Richard started to head off. ‘You look great in that outfit. Apart from the shoes. You need to sort out your footwear, sir.’
Richard didn’t break step as he left the beach, but as he finally made it up to where he’d parked the Police jeep, he found himself wondering if he did indeed ‘look good’ in the stupid outfit after all? It wasn’t possible – how could it be possible? – but even Dwayne had said he’d looked okay in the shirt and shorts combination, so maybe he did in fact look okay? After all, Richard had gathered plenty of empirical evidence since he’d arrived on the island that these were precisely the sorts of casual clothes that other people seemed to wear.
Could he even begin to think the unthinkable? Could he maybe consider getting himself some new clothes? Some new casual clothes?
The next morning, Richard was back in his suit, shirt and tie, and waiting with Camille in the main reception of Zoe Winstanley’s firm of solicitors.
‘You hot there, sir?’ Camille asked.
‘No,’ he said.
The pair fell into an uneasy silence.
A bead of sweat rolled down Richard’s forehead and stopped on the end of his nose. Richard dashed it away with the palm of his hand.
‘So,’ Camille said, ‘you didn’t find the Commissioner’s rum seller last night?’
‘I’ve already told you I didn’t.’
‘Does this mean you’ll be going undercover again tonight? Because if so, Dwayne and I are very happy to offer back-up again.’
Before Richard could come back with a suitably withering reply, a secretary appeared and ushered the two Police officers into Zoe’s office.
‘Good morning,’ Zoe Winstanley said crisply from behind her desk, and Richard took a moment to look about himself as he settled into one of the two chairs that were already set out for him and Camille. The office was somewhat tatty and was covered in piles of files in a seemingly haphazard fashion, but Ms Winstanley had a purposeful manner about her that Richard found instantly engaging. He knew he wasn’t going to be wasting his time here.
‘My apologies I couldn’t see you last night,’ Zoe offered.
‘No worries,’ Camille replied with a smile. ‘It allowed us to work on another case.’
‘Which we don’t need to mention right now,’ Richard said. ‘But I understand that Lucy Beaumont came and saw you yesterday morning? Is that right?’
‘It is.’
‘And, because of that, you think you know why Freddie Beaumont was killed?’
‘I think so.’
‘Then can you tell us all you know?’
‘Of course. I’d be happy to. But first, I’ll need to fill you in on a bit of history between our firm and the Beaumont family.’
Zoe explained that her company was one of the oldest legal firms on the island, and they traditionally handled the legal affairs of the island’s many importers and exporters. That’s why the office was based down by the old port in Gosier, where trade had historically been centred. What was more, the Beaumont family had been one of their most important clients since the early nineteenth century, so the affairs of both her solicitors’ firm and the Beaumont Plantation were tightly intertwined. Even so, Zoe said she’d been glad when a Police Officer had called her the night before because she’d had an encounter with Lucy that day that had troubled her, and she already knew she wanted to talk to the Police about it.
‘So what happened yesterday?’ Richard asked.
‘Well,’ Zoe said, gathering her thoughts, ‘did you know that the Beaumont family instructed me to try and sell the plantation earlier this year?’
‘They did?’ Richard said, surprised.
‘That’s right. Or rather, Lucy did. She got in touch with me in January and told me that the family wanted to sell the plantation. Could I see if I could find a buyer for it.’
‘And d
id you?’
‘I most certainly did. And quite quickly, actually. It was a company we sometimes do business with, and they offered the Beaumont family five million dollars for the plantation.’
‘How much?’
‘I know. It’s a lot of money.’
‘But the family told us the plantation was worthless.’
Zoe was surprised. ‘They did, did they?’
‘And we’ve seen the accounts. It’s been losing money for years.’
‘It has, I’d agree with you there. And, as long as it remains as is, I’m sure it would continue to lose money. But the buyers are a holiday property company who want to buy the land to build a bunch of holiday villas up that side of the mountain. After all, there’s already a good service road, and the holiday company can really trade on the Beaumont brand to make it feel like a heritage holiday destination. That’s why the land is so valuable.’
‘Five million dollars,’ Camille said in wonder, more to Richard than to Zoe. ‘So why have they kept that hidden from us?’
‘They really didn’t tell you they were trying to sell the plantation?’ Zoe asked.
‘They didn’t,’ Richard said. ‘In fact, very much the opposite. They kept saying how little money it was worth. Even Lucy – when she told us she wanted to sell – gave no indication that it would be worth millions of dollars to her.’
‘But why wouldn’t they tell you the truth?’
‘I look forward to finding out.’
‘Yes. Because it’s a lot of money, isn’t it? Although they maybe didn’t tell you because the negotiations have somewhat ground to a halt. You see, there are a few legal difficulties with selling the land.’
‘There are?’
‘Even with all that money on the table. Because the land isn’t owned by a single person. As you may or may not know, Hugh’s father, William, turned the estate into a trust before he died.’
‘Yes, the family told us. To make sure that his first-born Freddie didn’t inherit.’
‘That’s right. It’s a trust with Hugh in charge. But that means that every trustee and named beneficiary of the trust has to sign a document that dissolves the trust before I can even begin to sell the land. And that decision has to be unanimous.’
‘I see,’ Richard said, trying to process what he’d just heard. ‘So are you saying that not everyone wanted to sell the land?’
‘Let me answer your question by saying that the situation changed considerably yesterday. But originally, there was indeed one person in the family who was refusing to sell.’
‘And who was that?’
‘Tom Beaumont.’
‘Of course,’ Richard said, remembering how Tom had been in his father’s office working through the company books. ‘He thinks he can make the plantation profitable again, doesn’t he?’
‘He does. He believes he can turn the business around and earn more money for the family in the long term by keeping it rather than selling it. And he makes quite a persuasive case, if you ask me. As an impartial third party, I can see the logic of what he’s suggesting. After all, there are now so many mass production coffee plantations, there’s room in the market for a niche supplier of the highest quality. But they’d need to invest heavily in new machinery. Not that it’s ultimately my decision, of course.’
‘So you’ve not been able to get everyone to sign the document to dissolve the trust because Tom wouldn’t sign?’ Camille asked.
‘That’s right. I had the whole family in here earlier this year telling Tom to sign, but Tom refused to.’
‘And when you say the whole family, who do you mean?’
‘Well, Lucy, Tom and Matthew, of course. And Hugh and Sylvie as well.’
‘Is Sylvie named in the trust, then?’
‘No. But she’s still a member of the family.’
‘I see. And they were all putting pressure on Tom to sell?’
‘They were.’
‘And how did Tom react, would you say?’
‘Not all that well if I’m honest,’ Zoe said. ‘He lost his temper, and started calling Hugh and Sylvie all sorts of names and accusing them of taking money out of the plantation when it should have been spent on investment. Things got ugly real fast until I explained that there was actually a fifth person who’d also have to sign the document before I could dissolve the trust and allow the land to be sold.’
‘There is?’
‘There was. Because, if you recall, I said that everyone named in the trust had to sign any document of dissolution before I could dissolve the trust.’
‘Oh I see,’ Richard said, finally understanding. ‘And that includes Freddie Beaumont, doesn’t it?’
Richard was pleased to see a look of appreciation appear on Zoe’s face.
‘Quite,’ she said. ‘He had no control over the land or the money. The control went to Hugh. He was the sole executor of the trust. But Freddie was still a trustee. Nominally. I guess he was named along with the children so that there’d always be a legal mechanism for him to return to the family if Hugh decided that his brother had been rehabilitated.’
‘How very sad,’ Camille said.
‘Why’s that sad?’ Richard asked, surprised.
‘Well, think about it. William cut his first-born son out of his will. That’s how much Freddie had disappointed him. And yet William left the door open for a final reconciliation. And it never came.’
‘Oh,’ Richard said, still not really understanding. ‘Right. How very sad.’
‘I agree,’ Zoe said. ‘But it meant that, once I’d calmed Tom and the rest of the family down, I was able to explain that it didn’t much matter that Tom didn’t want to sell, because they’d still not be able to sell the land unless they got Freddie to sign the document of dissolution as well. It’s like I said. Everyone had to sign.
‘What’s more, I explained that I’d then have to split the five million dollars equally among the whole family. Or rather, if I didn’t split the money equally – or tried to leave anyone out, whether it was Freddie or anyone else – then the rest of the family would find themselves spending the next few years trying to defend that decision in a very expensive court case they’d almost certainly lose.’
‘The money had to be split equally?’ Richard asked.
‘With the five family members named in the trust.’
‘Including Freddie?’
‘Including Freddie. You see, I also had to take into consideration our firm’s relationship with William Beaumont. Because, although I wasn’t around when he turned the plantation into a trust, we acted on his behalf in drawing the papers up. So, as far as I’m concerned, if every member of the family now wishes to dissolve the trust, and I get to split the money equally among William’s heirs, then I can dissolve the trust with a reasonably clear conscience. After all, William wouldn’t have been able to predict that the business would stop being profitable at some stage in the future. And it was fair to argue that were he still alive he’d want the family to cut their losses now. But, as I say, it has to be unanimous.’
‘I see,’ Richard said, ‘meaning you needed Freddie’s signature. So did you get it?’
‘That’s the thing,’ Zoe said. ‘When I explained to the family that William had five direct relatives – Lucy, Tom, Matthew, Hugh and Freddie – and all five people would have to get an equal share of the five million dollars – Lucy said that she’d changed her mind. In fact, she went so far as to say there was no way she’d sign a document that would give her biological father the best part of a million dollars. So she’d now side with Tom and refuse to sell.’
‘How did the others take that?’
‘They didn’t have much chance to take it one way or another. Lucy announced that she’d never sell as long as Freddie got even a dollar, and then she got up and walked out without another word. The rest of the family didn’t know what to do. So they all got up and left themselves. And that was the last I thought I’d hear about it.’
‘I see,’ Richard said. ‘So, to sum up, Lucy asked you to look into selling the plantation at the beginning of the year. But when you found someone who’d buy their land for five million dollars, the plan first faltered because Tom refused to sell. And then it faltered again when Lucy learnt that Freddie would make a million dollars from the sale, so she refused to sell from that moment onwards.’
‘That’s right,’ Zoe said. ‘And then we come to the Monday before last.’
‘Why? What happened then?’
Zoe took a moment before answering. It was clear that she wanted to pick her words very carefully.
‘Well, it was on the Monday before last that I received a rather surprising visitor.’
‘You did?’
‘It was Freddie Beaumont.’
‘What?’ Richard and Camille both said at the same time – and Richard tried to work out the timings in his head. If Freddie visited Zoe the Monday before last, then that meant that he saw Zoe three days before he was murdered.
‘He didn’t make an appointment,’ Zoe said. ‘He just walked in here with his brother Hugh.’
‘Hang on, you’re saying Hugh was with him?’
‘He was.’
Camille turned to her boss, amazed.
‘Your hunch was right.’
Richard frowned. Was Camille right?
‘So why did Hugh and Freddie come and see you the Monday before last?’ Camille asked.
‘Well, as Freddie put it to me at the time, Hugh had phoned him in the UK and explained that if he came to Saint-Marie, he could sign a document that would make him a million dollars.’
‘So did Freddie sign it?’
‘He did. Here, let me show you.’ Zoe handed over a thick document that had been on her desk all through the interview, and Richard could see that it was the paperwork to dissolve “The Beaumont Trust”. On the last page, there were five typed names: Freddie Beaumont, Hugh Beaumont, Lucy Beaumont, Thomas Beaumont and Matthew Beaumont.
Death Knocks Twice Page 18