“Well I’ve got Cynthia’s BMW outside, so if you two can squeeze in, I’m up for it,” Lance said, looking at Ralph and Peter.
‘Charming turn of phrase you New Zealanders have,” replied Peter. “But as I am but a beggar, as long as I don’t get home smelling of Cynthia’s perfume, I’m game. With old Ralph here I get out of his Jag smelling of engine oil and leather polish. If I arrive home with a more feminine scent on my clothes my wife may need some persuading that I haven’t been up to my old tricks.” They all laughed at Peter’s caricature of himself as the browbeaten husband.
“Old tricks being the operative word,” said Ralph as they made their way out into the cool Spring night air. Ralph had an appointment to see Inspector Linham in the morning and there were a lot of loose ends that no doubt the Inspector would be trying to tie up.
***
The Inspector was in a good mood.
“Thanks for coming in, Professor. You will be pleased to hear that your car has been gone over by our people and it is now ready for you to collect. It’s in the yard out back. And as far as we can determine, it hasn’t been damaged in any way. But just as an aside, I think you could do with a new set of tires.
“Thanks, Inspector. I must say I’ve been at a bit of a loss without it. But what about Grant Richardson? Any luck catching up with him?”
“No, no news on Mr. Richardson or his wife. Interpol and Europol are on the lookout, but it’s my guess that Richardson planned the whole thing out pretty well. When you have as much cash at your disposal as those two, it’s not difficult to get to some place where no questions are asked. But we’re hoping he’ll get over confident and think that he can get back into the art business.”
“Surely he wouldn’t risk it,” Ralph said as Sergeant Wilson joined them and set a tray of tea and biscuits on the desk.
“If he did it would be a big mistake, especially after what he told you about being responsible for Rabinsky’s murder. I know you said he would deny it, but we’ve checked with the cab driver who took him to that chess tournament and the times all tie up. So if we ever get our hands on him he will have to wriggle pretty hard to get out of this one.”
“Well I’m glad I was able to be of help, Inspector, I’m just sorry I didn’t keep quiet about my suspicions until you got there. Poor Mr. Rabinsky was just unfortunate to get mixed up in a major scam and paid the price for being the one who stood up to Richardson. If he had taken the money he might have lived to tell the tale and even been able to retire to Israel with his sister. Instead he’s six feet under and she’s likely to live out her days in that miserable flat in St Petersburg.”
“It’s always the little man that pays the price,” said Linham. “But it’s not all doom and gloom. The Russian government, through a recommendation from your contacts at the Hermitage and Roskultural has given you a substantial reward. I’m not certain of the exact amount, but it’s close to half a million pounds.”
“For what?” Asked Ralph, trying to hide his disbelief at what Linham had just said.
“Well it seems that you helped them thwart an attempt to interfere with some precious paintings that are about to be put on exhibition here in England. I’m sure you know all about that. They said that any bad publicity would ruin the exhibition and put a question mark around the Hermitage as a leading tourist attraction. Evidently it’s all about image and people believing that they are paying to see the real thing. They said that once there is some doubt then it’s almost impossible to regain people’s confidence, but that thanks to you, they were able to get the Walpole collection safely to the UK venue. The bad news is that Interpol and the European counterpart are no nearer to catching Boris Sarovsky’s killers, but that is out of my hands.” The Inspector sat back sipping his mug of tea.
“Well that’s certainly a surprise about the reward, Inspector. Once I know the details I have in mind giving Ivan Rabinsky’s sister enough money to immigrate to Israel as she has always planned. Obviously it will not be the same without her brother, especially knowing that in some ways his death triggered the alarm that led to the discovery of the intended swap. But I’m sure she’ll at least be happy to get out of that depressing place where she is now. I believe she told me that a few of her friends had already immigrated.
“That’s very generous, Professor.”
“Not at all. I would never have stumbled on any of those clues if I hadn’t seen that notice about the chess tournament at The Cambridge Club that was in Rabinsky’s apartment.”
“Well, she’ll be amazed to win the lottery without even buying a ticket,” Linham joked.
“It might be nice to use some of it to set up an endowment at the University in Ivan Rabinsky’s name as well. I’d like to think that the University would use it to honor him by putting up a scholarship in his name for his pursuit of honesty and integrity in the business world,” said Ralph.
“That’s entirely your affair, Professor. I’m sure you will put it to a good cause. But incidentally, we could do with a new teapot around here, while you’re in a generous mood and want to help out your local constabulary.” They all laughed, as that eased the awkwardness that Ralph’s speech had created.
“By the way Professor, we have decided not to pursue anything further regarding Beatrice Mannings, you know, the lady who made those copies for Richardson. As far as I can see she committed no crime. But we are charging Anna and her brother, the Serbians who were involved in the break-ins at Dorich House, and they will most likely be recommended for deportation. No doubt you and I will both be long retried before that happens, though, with the way the lawyers tend to spin those things out so they can charge a fortune to legal aid, especially whenever the issues of deportation and human rights pop up. It’s us taxpayers that have to foot the bill, and in the end, for what good?”
Ralph left feeling that at last the Inspector seemed to be crediting him with making a valuable contribution rather than as an interfering amateur who was just thwarting their efforts.
He was happy to be behind the wheel of his Jag again; and it did seem to purr along as well as ever. He and Katie were scheduled to fly out to Cairo the next day and he still had to pack and make sure that the paper and milk were stopped while they were away. John Weston had sent an email inviting him and Katie to come out as his guests for an upcoming art exhibition. He felt slightly awkward about accepting the invitation after what Richardson had told him about their intentions to swap the copies of Richardson’s paintings with the originals during shipment from the Hermitage, but as that had not come to pass, and so far as he knew John Weston had not broken any other laws, he decided it was not his job to be judge and jury. Weston had sent them first class tickets and they were both looking forward to a taste of the high life. Katie had been delighted at the prospect of more travel, and he found he was looking forward to it as well. There was also the prospect of meeting up with Jane and her husband and he wondered if it would be too awkward for the four of them to get together over a drink.
***
“I told you I’d show you a good time,” Ralph said as the plane took off and they sipped their champagne.
“Not bad for a limey,” she agreed as she settled back and watched the patchwork quilt of England grow smaller as they climbed to altitude. Ralph leant across to Katie as he tried to overcome the noise of the engines.
“I’ve managed to get hold of one of those polarized light pens that Beatrice said would show up her signature mark if we shine it on the back of those paintings she did. If we find out that John Weston has the 18th Century ones, as I suspect, then Boris was murdered because he sold the mafia modern copies and they thought he had crossed them. If Weston does have the old copies, then my guess is that he was planning to swap them with the ones in the Hermitage collection when they were enroute to England. It could have been the perfect crime.”
“Damn it Ralph, doesn’t your mind ever take a break? You’ve got the reward, Richardson is probably sunning himself on
a desert island somewhere where there’s no extradition treaty and we’re sitting up here in first class with the opportunity to drink vintage champagne and rub shoulders with the beautiful people. But can you just relax and enjoy it? No. All you can think about is more mysteries to solve. Why can’t we just have a good time and enjoy the moment?”
“Down in the outback where you come from do they use the expression ‘no such thing as a free lunch’, Katie?”
“Oh please. I can’t believe I am now going to get a lecture. You know how I hate it when you get serious. Here read The Times while I take a look at the menu. I hear that the Egyptian men like their belly dancers a bit on the plump side so I plan to eat up.”
“Hey look at this” said Ralph. “There’s an article here about Dorich House. I’ll read it to you.” Katie grasped her head in her hands and mumbled something not altogether complimentary about Ralph as a travelling companion.
“Okay. But make it quick.”
He read the article out trying to overcome the noise of the jet engines and Katie’s protest’s.
Last night at a Regimental Dinner at the Wellington Barracks in London, Brigadier Willoughby Smythe and his wife Maude announced that they were leaving their home in Surrey to live in County Kerry, Ireland. This was the last dinner that they would be attending and he wished his brother officers well. They had reached a point in life where they wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet that could unfortunately no longer be found in Kingston. Their large mansion in Surrey has been purchased by Kingston University who have plans to turn it and the adjacent Dorich House, currently a small museum, into accommodation for visiting scholars and academics from Eastern Europe. The Brigadier and his wife wished the University well.
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The Dorich House Mystery (The Ralph Chalmers Mysteries Book 3) Page 18