Time to Pay

by Lyndon Stacey

  ‘If this doesn’t sell a few dozen cases, then nothing will,’ Eve murmured in his ear. ‘By the way, have I told you how devastatingly handsome you look in that dinner jacket?’

  ‘Actually, I think you have, but I’m quite happy to hear it again. Come to that, you look quite passable yourself. I like that dress, it suits you.’

  She smiled and inclined her head graciously, looking tall and willowy in a sheath dress of copper-coloured silk, with a fringed and beaded pale gold shawl draped over her arms. She was certainly a head-turner, her colouring still fairly unusual in rural Dorset, and Gideon had seen several people of both sexes watching her admiringly.

  ‘These canapés are to die for,’ she said then. ‘Pippa’s a genius. Why on earth would she want to mess around with horses when she can cook like this?’

  Gideon shrugged. ‘It’s a calling, I guess. Horses sort of get under your skin.’

  ‘My skin’s obviously a closer fit,’ Eve commented. ‘Giles is looking rather dashing tonight, don’t you think?’

  Gideon pursed his lips. ‘OK, I guess. But he’s not really my sort.’

  Eve put her head on one side, watching Giles as he moved among his guests, smiling and chatting easily.

  ‘Ah, and there’s Pippa. Doesn’t she look nice?’

  Gideon followed her gaze to the top end of the hall, where Pippa had come in and was having a word with the musicians. She was wearing a dark red dress and had done something different with her hair; he couldn’t quite decide what, but he liked it.

  ‘I wonder where Lloyd is?’ Eve said, echoing his own thoughts, but even as she said it, Lloyd appeared, sauntering across to slip an arm round Pippa’s waist and whisper something in her ear.

  She turned, laughing, then shot him a glance of mock severity.

  ‘Speak of the devil,’ Gideon observed.

  Judging from the animated faces and many overheard comments, the evening was a great success. The actual moment of the Sparkler launch was stage-managed to perfection, complete with a drum roll, and with a profusion of fizzing sparklers positioned round the ceremonial bottle. When all the guests had been given glasses of wine and speeches made, the first of what Gideon knew was to be a spectacular display of fireworks started to go off at the back of the house. With exclamations of surprise, many of the visitors started to move out of the hall, through what was known as the garden room, then through the open French windows to the patio beyond. The reporter and his team from the local TV station hurried on their heels, just as if fireworks were something new.

  ‘I’m just going to nip out and check on Nero,’ Gideon said, speaking close to Eve’s ear. ‘He can get a bit upset by loud noises. Won’t be a minute.’

  As he made his way across the hall, Gideon caught sight of Pippa and pointed in the general direction of the stableyard. She nodded and gave him the thumbs up, showing that she understood, and he made his way through the kitchen, where the chaos of preparation covered every available work surface, and out through the boot room into the yard beyond.

  Here he found the security light already on, activated – probably – by one of the semi-feral cats that made the outbuildings their home.

  Gideon made his way along the nearest range of stables to Nero’s box, speaking reassuringly to the horses who were gazing nervously at the colourful explosions just visible over the roof of the house.

  Nero had his head over his half door.

  ‘All right, lad? You’re a brave fella,’ Gideon said soothingly. Earlier in the day he’d fitted Nero with earplugs, and a fringed ear guard of the sort that had originally been designed as fly protection. Damien had told him that riders often used this combination to deaden the noise when showjumping on highly strung animals, and it certainly seemed to be doing the trick. Nero was restless and a little wide-eyed, but his neck felt dry and cool.

  ‘You’re fine, aren’t you, old chap?’ Gideon patted him and walked on round the yard.

  Under the overhang, his presence didn’t affect the light sensor, and consequently, after a moment, it went out, leaving only the light from the waxing moon.

  Passing the tack room, Gideon glanced at the door and stopped short. The padlock on the bolt was hanging, unfastened.

  ‘Tut, tut, Miss Barrington-Carr,’ Gideon muttered, deciding that it would be as well to check that everything was in order before he locked it.

  Opening the door, he stepped inside and reached for the light switch, thinking that Pippa must have had her mind on the evening ahead; she was normally meticulously careful.

  In that instant, something hit him a cracking blow across his head and left shoulder, sending him spinning down into darkness.

  4

  THE FLOOR WAS exceedingly cold and hard and, for a moment, Gideon couldn’t think why he should be lying on it. He was face down, with his cheekbone pressed to the concrete and his left arm twisted awkwardly underneath him, but, in spite of his discomfort, it took a considerable effort of will to move. His first attempt was rewarded by the onset of a heavy, throbbing pain in his head and neck, and a wash of dizziness.

  ‘Oh, shit!’ he said aloud, closing his eyes.

  Fighting the vertigo, he sat up with his back to the wall and ran his fingers gingerly through his hair, wincing as they located a sizeable lump, above and behind his left ear. It was oozing, and Gideon had to stop himself wiping his hand on his trousers, remembering in the nick of time that he was wearing his best pair.

  Damn.

  The launch party. Eve would be wondering where he was.

  With a groan, he pushed himself to his feet with the aid of the wall and, for the second time, reached for the light switch.

  Blinking in the sudden brightness, he found the door had been pulled to, but not shut – which was encouraging; at least he hadn’t been locked in. Glancing around, he did a swift mental inventory and decided there was little, if anything, missing, although one or two things had been moved and a couple of drawers were open, their contents pulled out.

  It seemed Gideon had arrived on the scene just in time and, having hit him, the would-be thief had presumably lost his nerve and run off.

  Gideon wiped his hands on an old tea towel that was used for tack cleaning and then, switching the light off again, went out into the yard, shutting and locking the door. He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious but, over the roof of the house, the night sky was dark and silent, and Gideon imagined that the guests were back in the warmth of the hall, enjoying the wine, and the cheese and biscuit supper that Pippa had prepared. Feeling decidedly muzzy, he made his way back to the house and into the kitchen, where he cast a look of longing at the old armchairs before going across to the sink and dampening his handkerchief under the cold tap.

  The door at the far end opened, letting in a wash of sound from the hall beyond.

  ‘Gideon?’ Eve was standing there. ‘I wondered where you’d got to . . .’

  ‘Sorry. Won’t be a moment.’

  The door shut, and Eve came towards him.

  ‘Was there a problem with the horse? Hey – are you all right?’

  ‘Not really,’ he admitted.

  ‘Oh, good God!’ she exclaimed, seeing him properly for the first time. ‘Here, give me that. You’re getting blood all over your collar. Did the horse do this?’

  Gideon surrendered the damp handkerchief gratefully.

  ‘No, it wasn’t Nero. I – er . . . surprised someone in the tack room, helping himself to the gear.’

  ‘It looks more like he surprised you,’ Eve observed, pressing the folded cloth gently but firmly to his head. ‘You mean they’d broken in?’

  ‘Well, actually, no. It rather looks as though someone forgot to lock up.’

  ‘So what happened? Did he get away?’

  ‘Yeah,’ fraid so. I never even saw him. I don’t think he took much but I can’t tell for sure. Pippa’ll have to look. I suppose he’d only just got in, but he’ll be well away by now, that’s for sure. What is the
time, anyway? I’ve no idea how long I was out for.’

  ‘Ten to ten. You were gone about fifteen minutes, in all,’ she told him. ‘I suppose it should be reported but it’s a bit difficult, isn’t it? Giles won’t want the police turning up with all this going on. It’d be disastrous, especially when it’s going so well. There, I think it’s stopped bleeding. If I comb your hair down, it won’t show at all. It just looks a bit wet.’

  ‘Good. No, I think you’re right about the police. I should tell Pippa, though. I’d better see if I can find her.’

  ‘Tell you what, you wait here and I’ll find her. It’ll do you good to sit down for a minute.’

  ‘I won’t argue with that – but play it down, can you. It’d be better if Giles didn’t know for now.’

  ‘I shall be the soul of discretion,’ Eve promised, washing her hands and drying them on a convenient dishcloth. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’

  ‘I’ll survive. And Eve . . .’

  ‘Yes?’ She stopped on her way to the door.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Well, I could have just turned round and gone back to the party, I suppose,’ she said thoughtfully. Then, with a smile, she was gone.

  Gideon eyed the armchairs once more, but settled for a seat at the table. For one reason, he felt that if he sank into cushioned comfort, it might take more will power than he had at present to dig himself out of it; and for another, if Pippa found him resting there after what Eve was about to tell her, he was almost certain she would take it as evidence of his imminent demise, and call a doctor without delay.

  It seemed only moments later when the door reopened and Pippa came in with Lloyd on her heels.

  ‘Hi. Eve told me what happened – are you OK?’

  ‘Yeah, just a sore head. Look, I didn’t think you’d want a fuss but you might want to check if anything’s missing.’

  ‘In a minute. First things first; let’s have a look at that head.’ She started towards him.

  ‘No need,’ he said. ‘Eve’s done a brilliant job.’

  ‘Oh.’ She hesitated, as if this possibility hadn’t occurred to her.

  ‘Go and check the tack,’ he urged. ‘But – take Lloyd with you, just in case.’

  Pippa and Lloyd were gone only a matter of minutes before reporting back that all was quiet and nothing appeared to be missing.

  ‘I’ve been trying to remember if I definitely locked it,’ Pippa said as she took off the coat she’d wrapped around her semi-bare shoulders. ‘But the thing is, I can’t. It becomes automatic. You come out at the end of the day, turn round and lock the door. If you asked me five minutes later, I’d probably have to go and check.’

  ‘You’ve had so much on your mind, these last few days, it wouldn’t be surprising if you’d forgotten it, love,’ Lloyd said.

  ‘Yeah, I know, but it’s not like me,’ she protested. ‘I’ve never ever found it unlocked in the morning. And if I did forget it, isn’t it just Sod’s Law it has to be the one night someone comes prowling?’

  ‘Yeah, but you don’t know how many times he might have come and found it locked,’ Lloyd pointed out, and Pippa frowned.

  ‘Oh, thanks! That’s made me feel much better! The thought that someone was hanging around, watching and waiting.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t like that,’ Gideon reassured her. ‘Just an unhappy coincidence or, at the most, someone taking advantage of the comings and goings. But it wouldn’t hurt to be careful for a day or two, all the same, now he’s seen what’s in there.’

  ‘It’s a horrible feeling, though, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Kind of creepy! I know exactly what Tilly meant now, and it must be ten times worse if someone’s actually been in your house.’ She shuddered. ‘Well, I don’t think there’s any point in calling the police tonight, but what about you? You really ought to see a doctor, if you were actually knocked out. You’re probably concussed.’

  He groaned. ‘I’d really rather not. I’ve just got a bit of a headache. I’m sure it’s nothing a couple of aspirins and a good night’s sleep won’t fix.’

  ‘But it can be dangerous,’ she persisted.

  ‘Hey, what about Monty Sinclair?’ Lloyd suggested suddenly. ‘He said he couldn’t stay late, but I’m sure he was still there when Eve came to find you. Shall I go and see if he’ll come? He’d be completely discreet.’

  ‘Brilliant! Yes, I’d forgotten him. Go and see if he’s still there. If not, I’ll run Gideon to casualty as soon as this thing’s over. It can’t go on much longer, surely?’ Pippa looked at her watch.

  ‘Who’s Monty Sinclair?’ Gideon asked as the door closed behind Lloyd.

  ‘Oh, he’s an old friend of ours – a doctor. I’m sure he’ll come, if he’s still here. He’s ever so nice. He’s patched Lloyd up on the hunting field more than once.’

  Monty Sinclair was, as Pippa had promised, very nice. Slim and fairly tall, he had greying hair and wire-rimmed glasses, and Gideon estimated that he was probably around fifty. He knocked on the kitchen door a couple of minutes later and came in, saying Lloyd had sent him. After introductions had been performed, he examined his patient with brisk efficiency and strongly recommended a trip to A & E, which provoked a protest from Gideon.

  ‘All right. Look, I’ll write you a note,’ the doctor said. ‘If you won’t go tonight, you should definitely run along tomorrow and get it checked out, OK?’

  Gideon thanked him, and with a cheery wave, he was gone.

  It was fairly late the next morning when Gideon drove in through the stone arch of the Priory stableyard. He’d bowed to pressure from Eve and allowed her to drive him to the A & E department of the local hospital, where he’d been examined and given the all clear.

  On their return to the Gatehouse, she’d made him a cup of coffee, advised him to take it easy, and departed to Wareham to open the gallery for the Saturday tourists. Ten minutes after she’d left, he’d collected his coat, Zebedee, and the keys to the Land Rover, and was on his way out of the front door.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be resting?’ Pippa came out of the tack room as he stepped out of the vehicle.

  ‘No, I’m fine. Officially.’

  ‘You went to the hospital?’ She sounded surprised. ‘That must have been Eve’s doing. So how is it? Still aching?’

  ‘Very little,’ he said truthfully.

  ‘But you drove here . . .’

  He normally walked or pedalled.

  ‘It’s raining, and I didn’t particularly want to squeeze my hat on over the bruise, all right? Inquisition over?’

  Just at that moment, Lloyd came to stand in the doorway behind Pippa.

  Gideon nodded. ‘Henry. Quiet day on the hustings?’

  ‘Just giving Pippa a hand clearing up,’ Lloyd replied, evenly. ‘How are you, this morning?’

  ‘OK, thanks. My neck’s a bit stiff but otherwise I’m not too bad, considering.’

  ‘Make you think twice before you go tackling burglars again,’ Lloyd observed.

  ‘Actually, if I’d had any idea there was anyone in there, I’d have shut the door and locked it, then called the police.’

  ‘Oh, and I had you down as a have-a-go hero. From what Pippa’s been telling me, you’re a regular Indiana Jones.’

  Gideon smiled thinly. ‘It’s not like Pippa to exaggerate,’ he said. ‘But anyway, that’s all in the past and much best left there.’

  The mild snub seemed to affect Pippa more than it did Lloyd.

  ‘I didn’t tell him anything,’ she said defensively. ‘Nothing that mattered, I mean.’

  This time it was Lloyd’s turn to look less than pleased and, if Gideon had been in a better mood, he would have found it funny but, as it was, he effectively dismissed the subject by asking if Giles was around.

  ‘He’s in the snug, I think,’ Pippa told him. ‘At least, he was when I last saw him. Bella’s in the doghouse, this morning. Somehow she found her way in there and knocked his antique paperweight off the desk. God knows wh
at she thought she was doing! Sod’s Law, it had to hit the edge of the hearth and break.’

  Adjoining the library, the snug was a small room that Giles used as an office, and Gideon did indeed find him there, shuffling through files and papers with an expression of intense frustration.

  ‘Argh!’ he muttered, without looking up, and as Gideon tapped on the open door, ‘Millie, have you been tidying my desk again?’

  ‘How many times have I asked you to stop calling me that?’ Gideon demanded, going in. ‘It ruins my street cred!’

  Giles glanced up with a grin. ‘Idiot! Mrs Morecambe looked in a moment ago and offered me a cup of tea. I thought you were her.’

  Mrs Morecambe had been employed by the Barrington-Carrs since Giles and Pippa were in the nursery, first as a nanny and then as a housekeeper, and she plainly regarded her duties as being somewhere between the two.

  ‘I saw her in the kitchen and asked her to put another cup on the tray. I gather Bella’s in disgrace.’ Gideon strolled forward and picked up two chunky pieces of coloured glass. ‘Whoops . . .’

  ‘Yes. I don’t know what she thought she was going to find. I don’t keep any food in here – at least not since a packet of boiled sweets got shoved to the back of the drawer and forgotten. When I found them, God knows how long after, they’d turned to liquid and run all over the year’s bank statements. My accountant wasn’t amused!’ Giles chuckled at the memory. ‘Anyway, I’ve kept it a food-free zone since then. Even biscuit crumbs leave fatty stains.’

  ‘Perhaps Bella was chasing a fly,’ Gideon suggested. ‘You know how crazy she goes then.’