by Susan Lewis
‘Questions about what? Really Lucy, you do say some odd things at times.’
‘I was asking what you knew about a ring that’s …’
‘Ah yes, I remember now. Do you mean one we’ve sold, or is it …?’
‘No, Mum. I mean an insider ring where the dealers get together to keep the bids down on an item they’ve recognised to be valuable.’
There was a moment before Daphne said, ‘Why would they do that?’
‘To go on and sell it at a much higher price, meaning that our seller gets cheated out of what’s rightfully theirs.’
‘Oh, Lucy, for heaven’s sake, what are you getting into?’
‘It’s not me getting into it, it’s Maureen and Godfrey.’
‘Oh no, they wouldn’t …’
‘Please Mum, listen. Someone let themselves into the office last night, because I found the door open when I went over there and I know I locked it when I left to go to Sarah’s. I’m not sure what was taken, but the only people who have keys …’
‘Stop, stop,’ her mother interrupted. ‘I was the person who let herself in, and it sounds as though Dad didn’t lock up when I told him to.’
Lucy was so stunned she hardly knew what to say. ‘You mean you drove all the way back here …’
‘I know, it was a daft thing to do, but we left in such a hurry and when we realised we’d left a few things behind Dad said we ought to go back and collect them.’
‘But what on earth is so important that it couldn’t wait till the next time I see you? And why the heck didn’t you let me know you were coming?’
‘We didn’t want to be a nuisance, or to put you through a goodbye after all, so we thought it would be best if we just came in quietly while you were at Sarah’s, and left again.’
As concerned now as she was confused, Lucy sat down on the edge of the bed as she said, ‘So what did you come back for?’
‘Oh, just a few boxes of family papers. I thought we might need our passports or birth certificates …’
Lucy blinked. ‘What on earth for?’
‘Well, you never know what might come up, especially when you’re moving house. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, because I’m sure you’re right, we won’t be needing them.’
Hardly able to make any sense of this, Lucy said, ‘So you didn’t find them?’
‘No, I’m afraid not. I can’t think where I put them, which is most unlike me, so I’m afraid Dad might have had them last. Or maybe they’ll turn out to be at the cottage after all, tucked into one of the bigger boxes.’
‘Well, if they don’t turn up, let me know and I’ll try to find them for you.’
‘Oh no, no, you’ve got far too much on your plate to be wasting time looking for things I’ve mislaid. They’ll turn up sooner or later, and we’ll just have to hope that we won’t need anything that’s in them in the meantime. Now tell me how you’re getting on with everything.’
Though Lucy was afraid her mother had just implicated herself big time by coming back the way she had, since it made her look guilty even if she wasn’t, she decided not to pursue it until she’d had more time to think. ‘Everything’s more or less on target here,’ she told her. She wouldn’t mention anything about Philippa, because it would only fuss her. ‘How’s Dad?’
‘Happy to be here, the way he always is.’
Easily able to imagine him pottering about the garden and garage, Lucy said, ‘I want you to promise me you won’t let him drive that old Rover. If it breaks down in the middle of nowhere, which it’s likely to …’
‘Lucy, dear, it only has three wheels these days, so it isn’t going anywhere. He only keeps it to tinker about with, you know that, and because you were always so attached to it.’
When I was eight, Lucy was thinking. Time to let go. However, it was true, she’d become almost hysterical when her father had tried to sell it, unable to bear thinking of it being taken away by strangers and becoming lonely without them. So he’d ended up keeping it, and still, all these years later, it was like a trusty old member of the family – for her too, if she was being honest with herself. ‘Will you call again later?’ she asked.
‘Yes, of course. Will just after lunch be a good time?’
‘I should think so.’
‘Good. I’ll let you get on now then. Dad sends his love, and says not to forget to water the busy Lizzies.’
After an oddly protracted goodbye, during which her mother seemed to be on the point of ringing off several times before suddenly launching into something else, Lucy tried to set her misgivings aside as she ran downstairs to open the barn. However, it wasn’t easy when she felt so convinced that her mother wasn’t being completely honest with her, since it made absolutely no sense to come all the way back here last night to collect things they really wouldn’t need in the foreseeable future.
Chapter Seventeen
FOR THE REST of the day, and throughout Monday and Tuesday, as dealers, collectors and the world at large descended in very encouraging numbers for the viewing, Lucy and the others were so run off their feet that they barely had time to eat, never mind discuss anything other than matters at hand. After helping to move the heavy stuff into place on Sunday while his clothes tumbled about the dryer, Joe had taken an evening train back to London – making himself scarce, Lucy suspected, before she had a chance to ask again where he’d spent Saturday night.
To her great relief John returned to work on Monday morning with the irrepressible Philippa at his side, looking her usual glamorously piratical self. The temporary staff were all on board now, and going so efficiently about their business that Lucy hardly dared to think how she’d have been managing without them. Though one or two asked where Maureen was, most understood that she was having to take time off to look after Godfrey.
Fortunately Monday passed without a squeak from either of the Crumptons, which Sarah declared a cause for celebration as they closed the barn doors and set the alarm. As soon as they were able to get away from the office, they joined John and Philippa at the pub for wine and food. Michael returned to his office in order to attend to his own business, dropping Simon at the station on his way so Simon could be in London ready for a breakfast meeting the next day.
Now that Teddy Best had been fully briefed on the possibility of a ring and was in possession of the letters Lucy and Sarah had found, he’d advised them to abandon a trawl through the archives in search of more dubious transactions, since trying to find worthwhile documentary evidence was going to be next to impossible.
‘It’s only when it sells at a later date for a much higher price,’ he explained, ‘that you might hear about it, but even then it’s unlikely, especially if it goes abroad.’
‘So there could be a whole slew of stuff out there that’s been bought up for next to nothing from us,’ Lucy said, feeling her world sinking towards a downward spiral of police inquiries, arrests, lawsuits and eventual bankruptcy followed by extinction.
‘Not really,’ Michael replied comfortingly. ‘It won’t be often that something valuable comes this way without being recognised by the owner, or another dealer who’s not part of the ring.’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of it,’ Teddy assured her, ‘and when the culprits are marched off to jail we’ll do a little morris dance outside the courtroom to celebrate.’
Though Lucy had laughed with the others, fearing that one or even both of her parents might be inside the courtroom was starting to keep her awake at night.
‘Listen,’ Michael said gently when he realised how worried she was, ‘I’m as convinced as you are that they know nothing about it …’
‘Actually, I’m not so sure any more,’ she blurted. ‘When I last spoke to my mother …’ Spotting Carl heading towards them, she quickly shook her head. ‘Not now,’ she murmured, and leaving Michael to carry on milling about the barn on the lookout for anything that might appear suspicious, she returned to the office to make sure the cashiers’ secure statio
ns were up and running.
They were, and filling up the entire end space of the office like a mini bank, complete with alarm buttons and bulletproof glass, in case anyone fancied their chances at making off with the cash. Sarah was at her computer emailing details of two more telephone bidders to Philippa, while at least five of the temporary staff were busily manning the phones, or sorting through registration cards and catalogues, or setting up the credit-card machines ready for action.
Lucy glanced at her watch. It was five thirty in the evening with the first big auction day on a very close horizon, and she couldn’t remember when she’d last felt so stressed or exhilarated. Or so admiring of her parents. To think that they’d run all this, and at their age, and so successfully, made her feel so proud of them that she made a mental note to send a text to tell them exactly that before she went to bed. She wondered if they were thinking about her now, and felt sure they were, simply because she’d always been at the centre of their lives. They’d be thinking that tomorrow morning on the dot of nine the first lots would go under the hammer and, provided all went to plan, by the end of the day on Thursday she’d have completed her first sale and actually made some money.
Just please don’t let it be the first and last, she prayed inwardly.
‘Has anyone seen John?’ she shouted over the din.
‘He was outside directing traffic ten minutes ago,’ Philippa answered, glancing up from the instruction sheet Sarah had just passed her.
‘I’m here,’ he called out, coming in through the door. ‘The rain’s not letting up at all, so the lads are shifting as much of the outdoor stuff as they can inside.’
‘Thanks,’ Lucy said, squeezing his arm. ‘Did you manage to get permission to use the next field for parking?’
His eyes twinkled. ‘Fifty quid did it.’
Laughing, she said, ‘I’ll make sure you’re reimbursed.’
‘Oh crikey, look at the time!’ Sarah cried, springing to her feet. ‘I’m supposed to pick Simon up at a quarter to. I’ll have my mobile if anyone needs to get hold of me. Ah, Hanna, there you are, did Juliette find you? She popped in a few minutes ago. I sent her over to the barn.’
‘I’ll go find her,’ Hanna said, lowering her hood. ‘Mum, did you see Granny’s text? She wants to make sure you booked the auctioneers.’
Lucy gave a choke of laughter. ‘It’s a bit late to be reminding me now,’ she retorted. ‘Text back and tell her Percy Beach and Frank Lowman are doing it. They were here just now, has anyone seen them?’
‘They left as I was coming in,’ John replied. ‘And by the way, I thought I’d volunteer myself as security for the next two days, because someone ought to be in here with the girls while money’s changing hands.’
‘Fantastic, maybe you could work shifts with Simon, because Sarah’s put him down for the same. Who’s on the door over in the barn?’
Inwardly flinching at the prospect of running up against Simon again, John said, ‘Right now, Michael and someone whose name I’ve forgotten. The large chap with the balding head who lives over Milly’s shop.’
‘That’s Hector, her son. Great. It’s time to start ushering the punters out now so we can shut up shop by six. Philippa, you’re an angel,’ she declared, as Philippa thrust a pizza menu into her hand. ‘I’ll have a ham and pineapple. How many are we for dinner?’
‘Six at the last count,’ Philippa told her. ‘Apparently Hanna’s eating at Tess’s after they’ve finished their rehearsal for the fashion show. So I can ring the order in as soon as I have a complete list. I expect John will be happy to go and pick them up.’
Keeping her voice down, Lucy said, ‘You’ve been here all day again, are you sure it isn’t too much for you?’
‘And I shall be here again tomorrow,’ Philippa informed her hotly. ‘I have a dozen or more people depending on me to handle their bids.’
Searching her face for signs of fatigue and finding none, Lucy gave her a hug. If she did have another seizure, which was apparently what had happened the other night, they would cope and she, Lucy, would join forces with John to make her see a doctor. ‘You must promise me that the instant you feel tired, or just want to go home …’
‘Och, it’s not going to happen,’ Philippa scoffed dismissively. ‘Now, I should go and find Michael to get his order.’
‘Actually, I’ll do that, because I need to talk to him anyway. Would you mind answering that phone, then we probably ought to put the machine on or we’ll never get out of here.’
After running through the rain Lucy dived into the back of the barn and weaved her way through to the front, where Michael was explaining something to an elderly German couple in their own language.
‘Wow, they’re coming from all over,’ Lucy laughed, as they saluted him happily with their catalogues and went to find their car. ‘Everything OK?’ she asked as someone bumped past her.
‘Seems that way. There’s been a lot of interest so far, that’s for sure.’
High on adrenalin, Lucy wanted to throw out her arms and dance. However, knowing that a hectic viewing was no guarantee of a monster sale, she managed to rein in her enthusiasm with a sobering reminder of the problem they were facing. ‘Did you spot anyone that bothered you?’ she asked.
He shook his head, and waved to someone who was leaving. ‘As I said before, Maureen and Godfrey are bound to have put the word out that they’ve blown their own cover, so whoever they’ve been working with will almost certainly stay away. Now, you were mentioning something about your parents last night.’
Feeling her insides churn, Lucy said, ‘I’m not sure what you’re going to make of this, but my mother informed me on Sunday that she came back here on Saturday night with my father to pick up some “family papers” that they’ve apparently mislaid.’
Michael looked surprised. ‘So it was them who left the office door open?’
Lucy nodded, and braced herself to go further. ‘I’m afraid the excuse of “family papers” seems pretty thin to me,’ she said, ‘when they can hardly need them that urgently, so I can only assume that they came back to remove some sort of incriminating evidence.’
Michael frowned. ‘Mm,’ he responded thoughtfully, ‘I guess that seems a logical conclusion, so I think when the auction’s over we’ll have to sit down and have a good long chat with them, to find out exactly what they do and don’t know about this ring.’
‘Definitely,’ Lucy agreed, already dreading it, but relieved to know that he’d be with her. ‘In the meantime, let’s hope the main operators, whoever the heck they are, do decide to stay away, because we don’t want them round here ruining our business.’ She pulled a face. ‘But if they do, that’s not going to help us find out who they are, is it?’
‘The best-case scenario is that they’ve already decided not to darken your doorstep again – that way you won’t have to take anyone to task and risk dragging yourself and your parents into something that certainly won’t be good for business. However, we’re not thinking about that now, we’re focusing on what a spectacular first sale you’re going to have, and I predict it will be exactly that. Both auctioneers have checked out with flying colours, so no scandals there, and Percy remarked before he left on how well set out everything is.’
Lucy beamed. ‘What do you think of our new art gallery?’ she asked. ‘Did you see it on the upper level?’
‘I did, and it works very well up there. Personally, I’m not sure I’d want to own any of it …’
‘Oh God no, it’s awful, isn’t it – apart from the one,’ she drew quote marks, ‘in the manner of Peter Kinley. I quite like the shadings and angles in that one, and …’
‘Actually, you’ve just reminded me,’ he cut in, ‘I noticed that painting in the catalogue and then stupidly forgot about it. Am I right in thinking it’s part of a house clearance from Malmesbury?’
Puzzled, Lucy said, ‘I’m not sure, I’d have to check. Why?’
‘If it is, then I’m representin
g the estate and I happen to know that they owned quite a good collection of originals by lesser-known artists. Some will have gained in value over the years, such as a Peter Kinley, but there’s a good chance their grandson, who’s inherited, has no idea of that, so he’s just lumped everything in together and shipped it out ready to sell the house. I’m guessing that unless asked you don’t get a valuation?’
‘That’s right, especially not on items that come in as part of a house clearance. There are too many, so we rely on the owners to put forward any special requests.’ Not sure whether to be worried or excited now, she said, ‘Do you think we should withdraw it from the sale until an expert’s looked it over?’
‘Mm, yes I do, just in case, because if it does turn out to be valuable …’
‘Hang on, are you thinking it might be something Maureen has deliberately downplayed so that one of her cronies can pick it up for next to nothing?’
‘It’s possible, though I have to say I think the chances of us catching her out that easily are almost non-existent, but you never know, so let’s take it down anyway. We can always put it in a later sale, once Margie’s had the chance to look it over.’
Turning as John came to join them, Lucy told him about the painting while Michael ran upstairs to lift it from the wall. ‘Have you ever heard of the artist?’ she asked John.
‘I can’t say I have,’ he replied, ‘but I’m afraid I’m a bit of a philistine when it comes to art.’
‘You and me both. I wonder how much it’s worth, if it does turn out to be real.’
The answer to that question came an hour and a half later, after the barn and office had been secured for the night, and the pizzas were on order. The main players, as Lucy called her core team, were all in the kitchen farmhouse with the painting – out of its ersatz rococo frame – laid out on the table under the central light that Michael had lowered to enable a close inspection. In the bottom left-hand corner, now exposed where before it had been hidden by the frame, was the artist’s signature and date.