“Can we go shopping some time?” Edith thought of the dress she needed to buy.
“Shopping?”
“For a dress. I’m going to a party. I’m terrible at knowing what looks good on me.”
“Sure. But I thought you had no money?”
“Andrius said he would pay for it.” She could buy it herself, in fact, now that Samuel was paying her. “Actually...”
“I’ll be sure to recommend the most expensive thing, in that case.”
“When can we go? The party is a week on Sunday.”
“When I’m free.”
“Are you at work later today?”
“We’re not going today. But no, it’s a valuation day for jewellery and watches.” Sunny raised her voice to be heard as the kettle boiled. “Not my thing. I’m fine art, mostly paintings. Though I know a bit about carpets. I’m sure I’ve told you this.”
“Oh. Probably.”
“Besides, watches are stupid.” There was a clinking of spoon against cup as the drinks were made. “For the price of a rare watch you could buy some really nice things. Real art. Antiquities even. Never buy a watch unless as an investment.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Edith aimed at sarcasm. She knew that one day she would mention it to Andrius as sound advice. And he would keep it in mind.
Sunny emerged from the kitchen and placed the drinks on the table. She took a seat opposite Edith.
“Did you want to talk about antiques?” Sunny’s question was a conversation–ending instruction. They weren’t there to discuss antiques.
“Not unless it’s Dad.” Edith grinned
“Fuck Dad.” Sunny smiled too, though only for the briefest moment. “Actually, let’s talk about Dad. You say the bastard’s got no money left?”
“Yes, but...,”
Sunny raised a finger to silence her sister. Edith obeyed, unable to finish for the second time to say that she now had lots of money from Samuel.
Sunny pushed back her chair from the dining table and climbed the stairs to the mezzanine bedroom. She disappeared into the rear of the bedroom. Edith knew there was a wardrobe there, sat tight under the eaves. The sound of its doors opening and shutting reached her ears.
When Sunny emerged into sight and proceeded down the stairs, she had in her hand a thick envelope. Even before she reached the table and threw it down in front of Edith it was obvious what it contained. It hit the tabletop with a thud. Notes spilt out.
Edith sat square in her seat, hands still on her lap, craning to peer into the envelope. The notes were twenties. They lay together as thick as the leaves in a book. There must have been hundreds of them. Then she sat back carelessly, feigning disinterest.
Sunny leant forward but refused to speak, willing her sister to speak first with a determined stare.
“How much?” Edith asked at last.
“Twenty–five thousand.” Sunny look aside, then back at Edith and smiled. “It’s yours.”
“Okay.” Edith extended a hand and fingered the notes tentatively. “Is it your deposit for a house?”
Sunny shook her head and laughed. “No. I wouldn’t give you that. Frederick would kill me. Shit, he would be off on one if he knew you were here and I was giving you this now. Even though it’s not our money.”
“It’s not your money?” Edith felt boldened. She plunged a hand into the envelope to withdraw a pile of notes. Another pile lay behind the one she handled. “I don’t get it.”
Sunny stood up and backed away from the table. After a moment staring out the window she perched on the back of the sofa. “Edith, this is Dad’s money.”
“Dad’s?”
“Yeah.” Sunny looked away. “He gave it to me for safekeeping.”
“Why wouldn’t he put it in a bank?” Edith’s stomach turned. “Is this what I think...?”
Sunny shook her head slowly and pursed her lips. “It’s not the kind of money you put in a bank, Edith. This is how Dad was paid most of the time. I hope you know what that means.”
Edith threw the money down onto the table and blew out a long breath. “Shit.”
“Yeah. Shit.” Sunny walked round the table and sat down next to Edith. She took her sister’s hand in her own. “You have to believe me, Edith, there’s a lot you don’t know about Dad. Too much. I can’t tell you it all.”
Edith yanked her hand away. She leant her elbows on the table and dropped her head into them. “That’s always the fucking case, isn’t it? I’m treated like a little kid. Even now.” She turned back to Sunny, tears in her eyes. “What the fuck is this money?” She swiped a handful of notes onto the ground. “What did Dad...what did you do to earn it?”
“Edith,” Sunny put her arm around Edith’s shoulders, “I’m offering you this money so you don’t have to worry about things like that, okay? Just take it and stop worrying. Spend it how you like. There’s plenty more.”
“More?” Edith raised her eyes. “What? What are you telling me? How much more?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course. You know I love you Sunny.”
“Then don’t ever ask again.”
Edith pulled away. She wiped away her tears. She stood from her chair and paced the floor.
“Keep the money.”
“Edith...”
“I don’t need it. I have thousands.”
“Did Andrius give you some?”
“Fuck off, I earnt it.” Edith stopped still, her arms crossed. “You heard me. I earnt it. Samuel paid me fifteen grand for a week’s work because I’ve already cracked his case. Bet you never did that.”
Sunny turned away and smiled. “Well...”
“And I’m still on it. You’re not the only one who can do this. I hope you know how easy this all is.” Edith had stepped nearer. “I’ll have caught the killer in a couple of weeks. Watch me.”
Sunny smirked but quickly held her mouth to erase the smile. “Okay.”
“Is that all you’ve got to say?”
“No.” Sunny shrugged. “So you’re hunting a killer? How’s that going?”
“Stop being a bitch, Sunny. You’ve no need to be sarcastic.” Edith took a deep breath, ready to summarise. “Two murders. Same family. Thirty years apart. I’ve linked them together. Now we know there must be a killer out there targeting them. How’s that?”
“Not bad.” Sunny frowned. “What does Dad say? Not that I care.”
Edith laughed and sat down once again, opposite Sunny. “Dad doesn’t have the right to say anything. He couldn’t solve it thirty years ago. Yet he keep trying to give me instructions.”
“He couldn’t solve it?” Sunny thought for a second. “What do you mean?”
“The first murder. He investigated it back in the eighties. Never found the killer.”
“Shit, really?”
“Yeah. He wouldn’t even tell me to begin with. Once I found out I confronted him and he acted all apologetic.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Sunny came round to sit next to Edith. “You’re saying that he fucked up a case and feels bad about it?”
“Exactly.”
“And you have a chance of solving it under his nose?” Sunny fastened her arms around her sister’s shoulder. “Edith, I’m going to help you.”
“What? Just because you want to shame Dad?”
“Yes. It’s exactly that. I want to grind the bastard’s ego into the ground.”
Edith shook her head slowly and sighed. “That’s pretty fucking calculating. But at least you’re honest. What did he even do to you to deserve this?”
Sunny parried the question deftly by ignoring it completely.“Tell me what I can do to help.”
“Well,” Edith looked up into the corner of her vision and thought. It hardly took long to come up with an idea, “it’s obvious that the murders are about the Faircote family, but Samuel has forbidden me from speaking directly to them.”
“He’s forbidden you? Really? That’s a great way to ensure you ne
ver solve the case.”
“I know. I know. But he’s getting married soon and I guess he doesn’t want to upset anybody. I can’t imagine that I can speak to them without letting on what I’m doing.”
Sunny pointed a finger at Edith and spoke quickly. “When’s his wedding?”
“What? Oh, it’s actually this Saturday. I hope that after that he will be...”
“What’s his number? Do you have it?”
“Sure.” Edith reached into her purse and fetched out his business card. “What are you going to do? Please don’t bother him, he has literally a million things to worry about two days from his wedding.”
“Well, now he has a million and one.” Sunny snatched her phone from the sideboard and dialled Samuel’s number. Her face suddenly she burst into life. “Good afternoon. Am I speaking to Mr Samuel Faircote? Good. My name is Susan,” she winked at Edith, “the operations manager at Pimlico Associates. Yes, yes. Edith has been dealing with the preliminaries of your case so far. She has done an excellent job, that’s true. However, some of our associates have been supplementing her investigation and we’ve taken the decision to escalate your case.
“Yes, in a way Mr Faircote, it does mean that we believe the situation is more serious than previously. However, we insist on taking good care of all our clients and certainly will respond accordingly. To that end, Edith informs me that your wedding is due to take place shortly. Yes, Saturday. And naturally we want you to enjoy the happiest day of your life without worry. Therefore we have decided to send some of our associates to provide that extra measure of reassurance.
“Mr Faircote, I understand that the venue will have some security, but I suggest that they won’t have the same insight into any potential threat that we might. No, we don’t know of a definite threat, but we prefer to be proactive. Our associates need not be obvious. We can simply send two, posing as a couple. Yes, of course we will send Edith, as you already know her. We will also provide a male associate to accompany her.
“Thank you for your time Mr Faircote. It is a pleasure to have you as our client.”
Sunny hung up and put down her phone. “There you go. Get yourself and that boyfriend of yours to his wedding and ask questions. His whole family will be there. He’ll hardly have the time to watch you, so you won’t be stopped.”
Edith sat, mouth agape.
“Is there a problem?”
Edith broke out in laughter. “When did you start calling yourself Susan?”
Sunny reached over to her handbag and pulled out the name badge she wore at work: ‘Susan Pimlico’. She hadn’t even bothered to ask the auction house if she could use her real name. Only the woman in HR knew her secret. “Don’t tell Dad. I don’t give a fuck what he thinks of me, but would rather not give him the pleasure.”
Day 10: Friday 10 November
Ben giggled and slapped his thigh. “My girl! My girl! I don’t believe it!”
Edith unconsciously grinned at her father’s approval. It was wrong to want it, but she did. She had feared he would take the news badly. It seemed she was allowed to show initiative so long as she didn’t go directly against him.
“You just invited yourself to his wedding?” Ben laughed. “So he’s let you loose among his whole family to ask questions?”
“Yes, exactly.” She was stealing Sunny’s work but it hardly mattered. This was how it felt to be her sister.
“We’ll make something of you yet!” Ben sucked his teeth in thought. “I might not be ready though. Saturday, you say?”
“Yes, Dad. This Saturday.” Edith hadn’t expected her father to come. Though Samuel had put her and a plus one on the guest list. Andrius had already been asked.
“Very good. Very good. You’ll be safe at a wedding, though. Lots of people around.” Ben sniffed. “Where did you say it would be?”
“Tatton Park.”
“Nice. Can’t have been cheap to hire that, can it?”
“Well,” Edith thought her father’s question deserved a serious answer. “I suppose it’s cheaper in November. Not exactly many people get married in winter.”
Ben raised his eyebrows. “No, I suppose not. Do you remember we used to go there, me, you, and Sunny?”
“Only once or twice.”
“You used to love all the animals they had there. Couldn’t tear you away from the lambs.”
“Yeah, that’s true. We probably have some pictures somewhere. I should get them out.”
“Find the one of you on the carousel. Do you remember you screamed and screamed to go on it and wouldn’t give in til I let you have a go?”
“You never let me have a go on the carousel, Dad. I sulked all the way home in the car. Don’t you remember?”
“No, I let you have a go! I’m sure I did. Find the picture of you on it.”
Edith let it go. Dad had taken her and Sunny maybe twice to Tatton Park. Three times at most. Each time she begged to be allowed on the carousel and each time he said it was a waste of money. She had stood sulking, back against a wall, watching the other kids go round and round, screaming as though it was the greatest fun imaginable. Even when her father offered her an ice cream she refused and turned away from him, burying her face in the wall, mock tears flowing.
She had enjoyed the petting zoo with the lambs, though. Dad was at least right on that.
“Sam says his whole family will be there, so I will have the opportunity to talk to them all covertly. I’ll see if there’s anything I can pick up. Maybe figure out what he’s hiding. If not, just get a few new leads.”
“Good stuff. Don’t worry about doing any actual security though.”
“No?”
“Nah, you’re not up to it. You don’t have the skills.” Ben found his old charm. “Sure, if you were Sunny, things would be different. You just stick to talking. That’s your best strategy. I’m sure by the end of the night they’ll all be drunk and tell you anything. No skill required there.”
“Of course.” Edith wanted the conversation to finish. Would they all end this way, with her father reverting to subtle insults? Even after she had done so much to impress him by getting the invite in the first place. This wasn’t what Sunny had, not even close. She knew it. Stolen glory only lasted five minutes. It was hardly worth it.
“You’ve nothing to worry about anyway,” Ben’s seat creaked as he sat back, “if the killer took twenty–nine years between the first and second murder, then he’s in no rush. Hardly going to kill again after just three months, is he?”
“No.”
“How’s the work on the family background coming on? Found any new murders?”
“Well, not yet.” ‘Not yet,’ as in she hadn’t even started it. She hoped Ben would assume it referred to finding additional murders.
“It will be useful to know a bit about each of the family members you might meet tomorrow, won’t it?”
It was that tone again. He knew something was up.
“I have been researching the family.” Lurching straight into defence gave herself away. “It’s an ongoing process.”
“Really? Tell me.”
“I spoke to a family friend a couple of days ago.”
“Sounds...pleasant.”
“It was useful. He gave me lots of information about the family business.” That wasn’t going to be enough for Ben. Edith rolled out her headline. “I think it could be about money.”
“Oh, do you now?” Ben creaked as he sat up in his chair. “How so?”
“There’s a trust. It was set up by the founder of the family business, Samuel’s great–grandfather. All of his descendants over the age of eighteen receive a yearly payout.”
“Interesting. Very interesting.” There was a pause. “And are you thinking what I am?”
She wasn’t sure what her father was thinking. And Ben had told her that she thought too much.
The money angle made little sense, if she was honest. The business was in jeopardy years ago. Now it was doing well. Al
l the descendants got their payment as a matter of course. There was no way of killing your way into getting it if you weren’t a descendant. It seemed like a terrible motive because nobody stood to gain anything.
“No? Nothing?” Ben sighed. “Tell me, how many descendants are there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, that’s something you should find out. Make a note. Better yet, do the bloody work when I asked you to first time.” He grinned at his victory. “But for now, take a guess.”
“Maybe, hmm, thirty? I really don’t know.”
“Okay, let’s say thirty. How much are the payouts?”
“Hugh Mountgrace intimated that they’re...”
“Who?” Ben broke in, practically laughing. “Who the fuck is Hugh Mountgrace? What kind of a name is Mountgrace?”
“He’s the family friend. The one I spoke to. Sam gave me his details.” She resented her father mocking a man he had never met. He had done a lot for Samuel’s family. “He gave me lots of great information. He told me about the trust. And he said that the payout are over a hundred grand each year.”
“Nice work.” Ben coughed. “Let’s do the sums. Thirty lazy buggers get a hundred grand each year for doing fuck all. That’s three million in welfare for the wealthy. But if you off wipe out one then each share increases by...about three and a half grand.”
Edith shook her head. “That doesn’t sound worth killing for.”
“Maybe, but that’s each year, and if you top a few then it soon adds up. Killing one of them thirty years ago would have earnt the rest an extra hundred grand each by now. Don’t forget you’re cutting away future generations too. Pruning the family tree, if you will. And who knows how many have been killed?”
Edith kept her silence. She shut her eyes.
“Not you.” He pointed at her in the dark. “You don’t know how many have been killed you haven’t bothered looking.”
Ben rolled his eyes so hard that Edith could practically hear his disgust. “Anyway, you better have more leads than just that. The theory is as week as rat’s piss. Three and a half grand is beer money. Even over thirty years.”
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