Brent pouted. ‘Paste. Worthless. He was seizing the chance to establish an alibi.’
‘An alibi, father, is legal proof that you were elsewhere at a specific time, and of course he was elsewhere.’
‘I know very well the definition of alibi. A bluff, then. A cover.’ But the irritation in his voice indicated that at last they had reached a point on which he was uncertain. Virginia nodded. She knew. He saw that she knew.
‘It’s getting late,’ he said.
‘Perhaps Freda will be fit to make a statement in the morning,’ Virginia suggested. ‘And deny it all.’
‘Perhaps you two will be fit to make statements.’ He heaved himself to his feet. ‘And perhaps you’ll show Harry the guest room. Good night to you both.’
They watched him leave, Virginia with a frown of concern.
‘The poor dear’s exhausted.’
‘Yes,’ Harry agreed. He wasn’t feeling too grand himself.
‘Or he wouldn’t have tried to fool me with all that nonsense. He knows I can see right through him. Did you believe it, Harry?’
He pulled an earlobe. ‘Not altogether.’
‘Not about Angela’s death?’
‘It wasn’t convincing.’ He scratched his chin.
‘And Cynthia’s?’
‘I can’t see her turning her back on Freda, not from what she told us.’
‘And Charlie’s?’
‘I’m not sure o’ that. Could just be, I suppose.’
‘My own thinking exactly. Come on, I’ll show you the guest room.’
Chapter Sixteen
Harry had never known anybody who kept special accommodation ready for guests, except at the prisons. This room was different. She had told him that he had his own bathroom, and to come down to breakfast when he was ready. As it was after three by that time, that promised to be late.
Having no pyjamas, he slipped between the sheets in his Y-fronts. Never before had he encountered the luxury of that first intimate contact with fine, cool cotton sheets. It occurred to him that his pants were probably less clean than the sheets, so he got out of bed, shed them, and climbed in again to enjoy once more the initial contact. He then decided that he was less clean than the sheets, so he ran himself a hot bath, soaked himself in scented water, dried himself on a large, soft towel, and once more slid between those wonderful sheets. His last thought was that he would never be able to get out of them again.
‘Sleep well?’ she said.
‘What day is it?’
She laughed. Her father had left her a note: The station at 11.00. They were already late.
‘I made the bed,’ he told her.
‘You didn’t need to do that.’
‘They taught us that in prison.’
She looked down at her cornflakes. ‘Yes. I suppose they would.’
They both realized, at the same moment, that they were awkward with each other. No more was said until Ada brought his clothes and Virginia reminded him they had an appointment to make statements for the authorities.
In the car, he said: ‘I suppose this is the end of it.’
‘Not if you come to work for my father.’
‘I didn’t mean that. The case. Our case.’
‘But I thought we agreed…surely you agreed with me, Harry…that Freda couldn’t have killed Angela.’
‘Of course she didn’t. That wasn’t what I meant.’
‘Then what?’ She lifted her chin and pouted.
‘When you look like that…there’s a word for it.’
‘Patient?’ She glanced at him. ‘I know what you mean. You’re thinking they’ll put a stop to us.’
‘You knew all the while.’
‘Just wondering if you did,’ she said, turning into the yard of the police station. ‘And you know as well as I do that we can’t back off now.’
‘Your father obviously expects us to stop.’
‘He needn’t know.’
‘Will he be here?’
‘I’ve just parked in his reserved space. No, he’ll be at headquarters.’
‘What doesn’t he need to know?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘That we’re going to have to see O’Loughlin again.’
She locked the car door. ‘Can’t trust this lot.’ They looked at each other across the hood. ‘Ohoh!’ he said. ‘And why have we got to see him again?’
‘You must have realized, Harry. If O’Loughlin’s men weren’t responsible for Charlie’s death, then it must have been linked with the Freda-Cynthia-Angela-Charlie set-up. That’s all we’ve got left. So we need to be certain about O’Loughlin. That was why I asked Paul to see if they could keep the money secret.’
‘Clever. Quick thinking.’
‘No it wasn’t. I just had a feeling. It’s taken me all night to work out what that feeling meant.’
They walked into the police station shoulder to shoulder.
It absorbed a lot of precious time. They were met by Sergeant Paul Tranter, in the suit she’d seen him wearing often, but in a cloak of officialdom she had not. They were two witnesses who had been so unfortunate as to discover two murders in one day. They were not his god-daughter and Harry Hodnutt, with whom, in different circumstances, he might make idle conversation.
‘You will go into that room, Miss Brent, and the sergeant will take a statement. Mr Hodnutt, you will go into that one to make yours. Afterwards, the statements will be typed and you’ll be asked to read them before signing. If you do not wish to read them, they will be read out to you and you will make such a statement at the end before signing. Is that understood?’
‘Miss Brent,’ thought Virginia. Chopping me down to size.
‘Mister Hodnutt,’ thought Harry. I really am going up in the world.
They made their statements, and were allowed to wait in the canteen while these were minutely checked by the inspector for discrepancies, before they were sent for typing. The inspector gloomily thought that they could well have managed with one statement, so closely did they agree.
Eventually they were released, but not before Sergeant Tranter had given them an official warning that they’d better keep their noses out of police affairs from that moment on
‘Yes, Paul,’ she agreed, and, at his frown, ‘yes, Sergeant.’
‘Better get some lunch,’ she said, as they went to the car.
‘About money…’
‘I’m not going to start arguing with you on that again. Until you’ve got your own, it’ll be on me.’
‘You’ll be driving me to crime again,’ he complained.
‘What we’re going to do this afternoon probably is crime. Shall we stop for lunch on the way? I like to get a few miles beneath my wheels.’
‘You’re paying the piper.’
They stopped in Kidderminster for lunch. Her mind wasn’t on it, and Harry, realizing that her brain was otherwise engaged, was silent. Shortly afterwards they drew in and topped up the tank, and Virginia insisted on checking her tyre pressures. Harry said nothing.
‘You take the wheel, Harry, and see how she handles.’
He glanced at her, but was still silent.
During three years with Charlie Braine he had driven almost everything on wheels, and, the success of his endeavours sometimes depending on a fast journey of evasion, knew all there was to know about handling. This car felt as though the four wheels were at his fingertips. He could place it with confidence, rely on his reflexes and find it eager to comply, and sit back and simply let it go.
‘She’s a beauty,’ he said, easing back to eighty.
She breathed out slowly. ‘Where did you learn to drive like that?’
‘Guess.’ He was now down to sixty. The rearview mirror was clear of police cars. ‘Are you going to tell me what we’re trying to do?’
‘It’s fairly logical. We went to see O’Loughlin. He wanted to see us, or we wouldn’t have got near, and what he wanted to put over was that he’d planned that bank job without actually
admitting it — but that he’d lost both Charlie and the money. He talked a lot about his professional standing, and needing the money in his hands in order to prove that nobody got away with anything where Sean O’Loughlin was concerned. You with me?’
‘If anything, ahead.’
‘Good. Now…he offered me a diamond if I could produce the money, and produce Charlie as a bonus. He said that stone was worth nearly as much as the bank haul, on the surface to tell me that it wasn’t the value of the haul he was worried about, but the actual stuff, to rustle under the noses of his contacts. That could have been a bluff, or it could have been the truth. What I want to know is which.’
He turned the car into the mountain rides. The surface now was not as firm as they’d encountered with the Range Rover, but the Mercedes, with its wide tyre treads, handled it well. Harry barely slowed.
‘Now you’ve lost me,’ he admitted.
‘What we want to know is whether his men, on his orders, killed Charlie, but for some reason failed to find the money. That’s all we want to know. He’ll have heard that we found Charlie’s body. It’s been on the news and in the papers. But he doesn’t know the money’s been found.’
‘Your quick thinking.’
‘I told you. It was a feeling. If we can make him believe we still have ideas about finding that money, I think I can persuade him into giving enough information about what actually happened that day to clear the air on Charlie’s death. If he didn’t have anything to do with that, then we can forget him.’
‘But will he forget us?’
She tapped his shoulder. He’d forgotten how sharp her knuckles were. ‘Why d’you think I checked the tyre pressures, Harry? Why have I taken the opportunity to see how well you can drive? If things work out as I hope, he’ll put somebody onto following us, and I’ll be happier if you can drop them.’
He was continually being surprised by her naivety. The way he put it to himself: fools rushing in. And yet she was by no means a fool. He tried to understand her attitude, and decided that it arose from the fact that she lived in another world. Crooks, to her, were merely the people her father’s minions (he loved that word) put behind bars. They were not real people. O’Loughlin was not real to her, he was a puppet who played at being a big, tough captain of crime, supported by a cast of extras who allowed her to take their guns away from them. Heavens, he thought, to her he might not, himself, seem real.
With an abrupt shock he realized that the difficulty could well be that Harry was real to her, the only genuine villain she’d actually come to know. And she’d found him, he was embarrassed to admit, simplicity to handle and about as tough as stale elastic. Good Lord, he thought, she’s taking us there on the assumption they’re all as harmless as me. Startled, he burst out:
‘We might never have a chance to drive fast and drop anybody. What if he’s not interested in the money, and now that Charlie’s been found dead…’
‘But he’ll be ever so pleased we found him,’ she said eagerly.
‘Oh sure. Sure he will. Particularly if it was him who had him killed.’
She was silent. He drove on, and took the turning to Sean Lake.
‘I suppose it’s too late to turn back and give it some more thought?’ she said quietly.
It was the first time she’d hinted at a lack of confidence. He said: ‘We’re already past his early-warning guards. Better keep going. We’ll sort ’em out.’
If he’d glanced sideways he’d have seen her smile a small, secret smile.
The lake looked depressing. Although there had been no rain that day, the sky hung dark and thick over the water. The surrounding trees seemed still to be bowed by the weight of the past rain, and the water itself was sluggish and dense. The jetty waited, its plank surface black and slippy underfoot. Across on the island, indistinct in the poor light, the log-faced mansion appeared to be deserted. The two power boats lay close to their landing stage, huddled against it for comfort.
Harry took the phone from its box. It was slimy in his hand.
‘Yes?’
‘Virginia Brent and Harry Hodnutt to see Sean O’Loughlin.’
‘Wait.’
Harry did so, not certain whether that meant wait there for the boat, or wait with the phone to his ear. He hadn’t heard it click off. To his surprise, O’Loughlin himself came on.
‘Now what?’ It was a snarl, and there was phlegm in it.
‘Things to discuss.’
‘I know what things. I hear the news, you damned fool. He’s dead, ain’t he?’
To Harry, who’d been listening with the phone away from his ear so that Virginia could hear, this was their answer. O’Loughlin was savage because Charlie was dead, which meant that he was disappointed he couldn’t bring that about himself. Which meant he hadn’t been responsible for it.
Virginia touched his elbow. ‘Let me.’ He handed her the phone.
‘Don’t you want your money?’ she asked calmly.
‘You mean you’ve got it?’
‘Not with me. Be your age O’Loughlin. I’m not going to discuss this over the phone, so do we come over or not?’
There was a pause, then he snapped: ‘Wait there.’
She hung up the phone, shut the door of its little hut, and told Harry: ‘You don’t want to let them shout you down.’
Harry sighed. His shoulders sagged. Across the water two figures were climbing into the ocean-going racer that yearned for the sea.
Red was one of the two. He stepped on to the jetty with his handgun in full view, clasped in his right fist. His companion was a weazel with a sneer and no obvious weapon. To Harry he was the more dangerous. A knife man, Harry decided, a man who enjoyed his work. So Baldy was no longer on the strength.
‘We’re not armed,’ said Harry, ‘and if you think you’re goin’ to check, forget it.’ He had noticed a tenseness about Red, a nervousness.
But Red’s companion leered and said: ‘Stand aside, big-mouth.’
Harry moved in front of him, and smiled. ‘Relax,’ he said. ‘Reach for your blade and I’ll break your arm.’
‘Okay, Lou,’ said Red huskily. ‘As he said, relax. Let the boss sort it out.’
Lou took it badly, backing off, the leer retreating to become nothing more suggestive than his normal sneer.
They sat in the stern, silent, as Lou watched them every second. From time to time his tongue moistened his lips. Red put the boat against the landing stage where he wanted it without a bump, and gestured with his pistol. He followed them, once more, through the house.
For a moment Virginia couldn’t understand why, on such a dull and cool day, they should again be met on the terrace outside. Then she did. It was, in effect, a wooden platform suspended on piles above the water, and, as it overlooked an inlet, it was equally true that it was overlooked by the surrounding growth of trees. They would be in clear view from both sides, so that hidden marksmen could pick them off at a signal from O’Loughlin, and yet themselves be out of hearing. Red, she saw, was the only one who was to be present, and he only as a token gesture, a distraction from where the danger really lay.
O’Loughlin was at the same table. He was wearing a blue suit and black shoes. His eyes were expressionless, his fingers restless on the table surface. There was a chair already placed opposite to him. He made no invitation, but she walked across and sat down.
‘We’ve not been searched,’ she told him. ‘I didn’t find it pleasant last time. But I give you my word…’
He laughed flatly. ‘Your word?’
‘You’re getting nothing else.’
‘My dear young woman, I can raise a finger and you’d both be stark naked in one minute flat. Let’s get on with it, for God’s sake.’
She glanced at Harry, and nodded towards the rail. It placed Harry in the greatest peril, because he was right out in the open, Red having remained well back. But she did not believe the peril was valid. O’Loughlin wanted to talk. Harry leaned against the rail, glanc
ed down at the water, then he was all attention. He smiled at Red, who gave no indication that it reached him.
‘You know about Charlie?’ she asked.
‘He’s dead.’
‘You don’t seem pleased. Isn’t that what you wanted?’
‘Don’t play around with me. Of course I wanted him dead, but I wanted to do it myself.’
‘There was a bullet in the back of his head.’
‘Why’ve you come here? Get on with it.’
‘You’re going somewhere?’ She waited for a reply, but all that happened was that his lips tightened. ‘All right. He was shot. That seems like your men’s work. No money. Perhaps that was their work too.’
He leaned forward. His voice was brittle. ‘We’ve had this. Not one of my men would dare, and I knew where every one of them was that day. To the inch. To the second.’
‘So there’s something missing,’ she said, nodding her satisfaction.
‘The money’s missing, you stupid…’
‘Something missing out of your story, too. A link.’
‘Story! Are you doubting my word?’ He fingered the knot of his tie, daring it to be out of alignment.
‘Your memory…perhaps. You say you still want the money — well, I’ve got an idea, but I’d need more information from you.’
‘You’ve had all you’re getting.’
‘This is a waste of time,’ she told him impatiently. ‘I could well find the money, but why the hell should I hand it over to you?’
‘Otherwise, you’d die.’
‘You wouldn’t know I had it. Let’s stop bandying words. What’s in it for me? For us?’
‘The blue diamond.’
She made a gesture of contempt. ‘My information is that it’s paste.’
‘If I tell you…’ His fury was more disturbing because of his effort at control.
‘Let’s see it again.’ She put out her left palm.
His eyes held hers. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘First of all — if it’s real.’
‘I have an assessor’s valuation…’
‘On the one it was copied from.’
‘By heaven, I’m glad I never married.’ His lips twitched. It could have been a joke.
The Second Jeopardy Page 19