Past Tense

by Freda Vasilopoulos

  “As soon as we get home, we’re going to have to see Maurice St. Clair,” Tony said.

  “I don’t understand why he wants to see me,” Samantha said. “Who is he, anyway?”

  Tony hesitated, then said softly. “I’ll tell you, but this is in the strictest confidence. He works for the Canadian government.”

  “The government?” Sam echoed. “I thought you told me he was a rebel in university.”

  “He was, but it seems he left that behind a long time ago. He’s a completely respectable civil servant now. He’s investigating Dubray.”

  “But he met with him. Wouldn’t Dubray have suspected something?”

  Tony laughed softly. “My dear innocent, that’s the secret of expert investigation. You make business deals with the investigatee. Throws him off the scent. Skulking around, putting a tail on people, things like that make people suspicious.”

  “What’s he investigating Dubray for? That business that got him fired from city hall?”

  “Sam, I don’t know. I certainly didn’t expect Maurice to tell me. And he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s anything other than an ordinary businessman at the moment.”

  Sam nodded. “He’s not investigating Bennett as well, is he?”

  Tony shrugged. “As far as I know Bennett hasn’t done anything that warrants investigation. At least if he has, no one’s found out about it. Nor about any association he had with Germain. The incident you witnessed might be the only time they met in person. Which makes you dangerous to him.”

  With a chill Sam remembered Bennett’s words about precarious positions. “He’s up to something, Tony. I know it. And it’s to do with politics and Paul Messier. I think he’d like him to become prime minister.”

  Tony scowled darkly. “High hopes.”

  After hearing the determined, almost fanatical tone of Bennett’s words that afternoon, Sam couldn’t quite laugh off the idea as completely preposterous. “That’s what I thought. The present prime minister is young and vigorous, hardly likely to step down even if he were defeated in an election. And Messier would have to become federal party leader first.”

  “Money—a lot of money—in the right places. Also having you on their side as Bennett’s wife wouldn’t hurt. Even political supporters increase their own and their candidates’ credibility if they project the right image.”

  “Tony, you know it’s not that simple. There are laws about political contributions. And none of the present party leaders look about to resign.”

  “Enough money could dig up something that could force a resignation. Nobody’s past is completely clean. Or if they were to die—”

  An icy frisson ran up Samantha’s spine. Death. Even more certain than a scandal. Was that what Bennett had in mind? To kill in order to open up Messier’s opportunities?

  Assassination. The word slammed through Tony’s mind. Enough statesmen in high positions were invited to the conference that the event would present an almost irresistible temptation to would-be assassins. And that would certainly shake up the political hierarchy in Canada.

  Was it possible that an attempt would be made to kill one of the delegates at the conference? The organizers had received the usual veiled threats from anonymous sources. Although nothing was dismissed out of hand, the threats were treated as an expected annoyance. They were investigated, but most proved to be without substance.

  Maurice had hinted at deeper trouble, but again had produced nothing to back up his speculations. This business with Bennett Price put the matter in an entirely different light.

  Tony took Sam by the shoulders, his grip hard and urgent. “Sam, there’s got to be something we’re overlooking. Bennett’s got a plan and we can’t see it. And it’s probably staring us right in our faces. The sooner we talk to Maurice, the better.”

  Her eyes widened at his sudden agitation. “Yes, but first I want to talk to James again. Maybe he knows if Bennett’s had anything to do with Dubray lately. My aunt’s reaction when I mentioned his name was odd, to say the least.”

  * * * *

  “I think it would be safer if you stayed with me for a few days,” Tony said when they reached Victoria Station.

  As Tony had pointed out earlier, Bennett knew where Sam lived. After the kidnapping attempt, who knew how far he would go to bring her under his control? She was safer away from there until they knew more and could formulate a plan of action.

  She only made one condition. “We have to go over to my flat later and feed Bagheera. He must be missing me.”

  Once in Tony’s house Sam put through a call to James Michaels.

  “Sorry to bother you again, James,” she said without preamble. “But there are a few things I need to know. Have you ever heard of a man named Maurice St. Clair?”

  She could hear the humming of the transatlantic line as he considered the question. “Sorry, Sam,” he said at last. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

  Sam looked across at Tony. “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Now, do you remember the case of Robert Dubray, the man who resigned from city hall under a cloud? Do you happen to know what he did that caused him to lose his job?”

  “I can’t say that I do, Sam. But if you give me a little time, I’ll find out and get back to you. What’s your number there?”

  For an instant she hesitated. Hiding had become second nature to her. She shrugged. If Bennett knew where she was, it would be ridiculous to hide from James, a man she trusted impeccably. “It’s in London. At the moment I’m staying with a friend.” She recited the number.

  “I’ll call back as soon as possible.”

  “Well?” Tony said when she hung up.

  “He’s never heard of St. Clair, but he’s going to check on Dubray.”

  Tony let out a long breath. “Okay.” He got up and walked to the phone. “I’ll give Maurice a ring, tell him we’ll be by later.”

  “Yes, it shouldn’t be long before James gets back to me.”

  Crossing her arms, Sam began to pace about the room. “I wonder what Bennett’s up to,” she mused aloud when Tony put down the phone.

  Tony sat back in his chair next to a window overlooking the courtyard. “Politically? Or with you?”

  “Both. Why did he try to kidnap me? He’s knows I’m not a pushover. At least he should by now.”

  “Obviously he thought he could put some kind of pressure on you. Sam, would he be able to gain control of Smith Industries through you?”

  “I don’t see how. I’ve got controlling interest, but it’s not even as simple as that.”

  Tony closed his eyes. Sam could see tension in the tightening of his mouth. “Sam, is it possible that he could make your marriage look real, giving people the idea everything was okay between you? Your aunt wants to believe that. Maybe others would, too. And is it also possible that he could somehow make you look incompetent and so gain control over your shares?”

  “Tony!” Sam wasn’t sure whether to laugh or rage at his preposterous scenario. “That sort of thing only happens in Gothic novels and silent movies.”

  Tony shook his head. “Don’t be too sure. Everything that’s happened lately—they haven’t hurt you, but they’ve certainly made you nervous. You’ve gone to the police, who insist there’s not enough evidence. Much more of this, and they’re going to dismiss you as a crackpot. Sam, maybe that’s what Bennett wants.”

  All levity fading, Sam stared at him. Was that possible?

  The phone rang. Without thinking, she snatched it up.

  “Samantha, I found out about Dubray.”

  “Good.” She exhaled sharply. “Did he use his influence to get Bennett contracts?”

  “No.” James sounded momentarily startled. “No, nothing like that. He was embezzling money.”

  “Is that all?” Interesting though the information was, Sam didn’t see how it connected to the present situation.

  “No, it’s not all. Apparently Dubray was also suspected of leaking security information to t
he wrong people, regarding a trade conference between French and Canadian politicians and industrialists that was to have been held in Montréal last spring.”

  “And?”

  “The conference was cancelled. It was too close to the date to change the location or the time, and too risky to hold it as scheduled. There had been threats made, serious threats.”

  “But Dubray didn’t even go to jail. We checked the newspapers and they said the charges were dropped.”

  “Yes. He replaced the money he embezzled.”

  Replaced the money? An awful suspicion suddenly took form. Bennett and Dubray. “How much was it?” As if she didn’t know the answer.

  “One and a half million dollars.”

  Sam clutched the phone as if it would save her from the quicksand that had formed under her feet. Exactly the amount she had lent Bennett a week before the cancelled wedding.

  She took a deep breath, holding the anger at bay. “What about the security thing?”

  “It appears he came up with some story about mixed-up documents. Without definitive proof, they couldn’t make the charges stick.”

  And Dubray got off free and clear, perhaps solely thanks to Bennett.

  James’s mellow voice interrupted her troubling speculations. “Interesting that you should be in London and ask about Dubray. The conference that was cancelled—it’s been rescheduled for London, this week. The news has just been released. The French reps were quite put out last time when it was canceled, so it was considered politic to hold the conference on neutral ground.”

  “Is that all you have, James?”

  “That’s all. Oh, except for one thing. After your father died, his secretary found some items of his marked personal in his office safe. I thought you’d like to have them but you’d gone. Would you like me to send them to you?”

  Sam had long accepted the reality of her father’s devotion to his work. He hadn’t even kept a photo of her or her late mother on his desk. But perhaps there had been something, after all.

  “Sure, James,” she said, surprised that her voice shook. “I’ll give you the address.” She recited the number and street.

  “Good,” James said. “I’ll send it by the most expedient method. Samantha, any chance of you coming home?”

  When this is all over, she thought, feeling suddenly depressed. When we figure it out. “Maybe,” she said. “’Bye, James. And thanks.”

  She hung up the phone and faced Tony. “Something’s upset you,” he said with the intuitive sensitivity she’d learned to expect from him. “Tell me.”

  He held out his arms, making her smile briefly. Even though there was room for her in the large chair, she forced herself to refuse the comfort he offered. She had to be strong.

  Sitting down on the sofa, she related what James had told her, only revealing anger when she came to the part about the loan. “I wondered why he needed the cash when he could have borrowed against his business.” She clenched her fists in her lap. “He makes me so angry. He must have known I’d never condone that underhanded business.”

  “Precisely why he needs you now. Your honest image.”

  Her mouth turned down at the corners. “Sure. Tony, that conference. It can’t be a coincidence that Dubray is here just now, can it?”

  “That’s what’s been worrying me all along.” Looking distinctly uncomfortable, Tony shifted in his seat. “Of course no one knew Dubray was there until you pointed it out. And Maurice was very close-mouthed about him. He didn’t tell me why he was investigating the man. Dubray was supposed to be staying only for the architects’ convention, but it ended several days ago and he’s is still in the hotel. That’s when we began to wonder if he was staying for the trade conference.”

  Sam stared at him. “Then you knew about the conference. You didn’t mention it.”

  “I wasn’t allowed to, especially since the Regal Arms is hosting it. And you weren’t involved, even if you did spot Dubray. But as Maurice pointed out to me the other night, you might be useful to have on our side. We’re going to have to rethink everything. Nothing can go wrong this time. The conference is important, perhaps even critical to Canadian-French relations.”

  “Oh? How important?”

  Tony shifted in his chair, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. “So important that the identities of some of those attending are still under wraps. Rumor has it that it may involve the top leaders of both countries. We’ve got a block of rooms and suites reserved for delegates, and the talk about security has been going on for days.”

  Sam’s eyes widened. “Is it possible that Bennett is planning to do something to disrupt the conference?”

  “I’ve been wondering that too, ever since you told me about Bennett. But with the security they’re instituting, I don’t see how. He wouldn’t be allowed within a mile of the hotel.”

  Sam jumped up. “Tony, don’t you see? A bomb or an assassination. Death or scandal, it wouldn’t matter. Bennett referred to ‘precarious heights.’ That would certainly topple somebody from those heights.” Half defiantly, she fixed her eyes on him, but he didn’t laugh.

  “You know, Sam, maybe that’s not as far fetched as it seems.” Getting up, he pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go see Maurice.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Maurice St. Clair had a suite on the fourth floor of the Regal Arms. To Samantha’s surprise, Inspector Allen sat on the leather chair in the sitting room.

  “So nice to see you again, Miss Smith,” he said with a warm smile. “It was kind of you to be willing to get involved in this situation.”

  St. Clair walked in from the adjoining bedroom. “Oh, you’re here, Tony. Sit down.”

  Tony introduced Samantha.

  St. Clair smiled and held out his hand. “I’m so relieved. Your name isn’t really Agatha.” His grip was firm, and he clasped her hand with both of his. “Tony’s a lucky man.”

  “Thank you,” Sam murmured, discreetly pulling at her hand. His smile didn’t waver as he let go, but an odd, calculating expression seemed to pass through his eyes. It was gone so quickly that Sam thought she must have imagined it. Not knowing what was expected of her, she felt jittery enough to imagine goblins hiding in the closet.

  As soon as they were seated, St. Clair came straight to the point. “Samantha—first names are simpler, aren’t they?—what do you know about Robert Dubray?”

  “Only what I’ve read in the papers, and what I heard today—that he was an embezzler.”

  St. Clair nodded. “I understand you saw Dubray last March under rather unusual circumstances. Could you tell me about it?”

  Samantha looked at Inspector Allen. “I told the inspector the whole story. Didn’t he tell you?”

  “I’d like to hear it in your own words. Please.”

  “Okay.” In a quiet, emotionless voice she related everything she’d seen.

  When she finished, St. Clair sat for a long moment, lost in thought. “You don’t have any idea what they were talking about?”

  “No. I told you, it’s a large house. They were only there a short time.”

  He nodded. “Anything else?”

  “Yes. The embezzled money. I think Bennett gave Dubray the funds to pay it back. The time factor seems to confirm it.”

  St. Clair pursed his lips, making no comment on this. “And you have no idea why Germain was there.”

  “None at all. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful but maybe if you told me what you expected of me… What’s this all about?”

  St. Clair looked at Inspector Allen, who nodded faintly. He turned back to Samantha. “Dubray is considered a security risk. Aside from the leak that was traced to him last spring, we found out he used the money he stole to support a radical group that wants an independent Québec. They’ve been involved in several demonstrations calling for a pure French Canada and no Canadian ties with France. Some of their confrontations with the law got quite ugly. We’re afraid they might try to disrupt the co
nference here.”

  “But I really don’t know anything, except that Bennett also favors an independent Québec. He’s supporting a politician named Paul Messier. Is it possible that Bennett might also be supporting separatist groups?”

  St. Clair frowned thoughtfully. “We’ll check it out. It might take a while though, especially if he did it anonymously. And we don’t have much time. As for Paul Messier, he has achieved a certain popularity. But I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s innocuous enough.”

  “But will he remain that way, with Bennett behind him?” Sam persisted.

  “It’s not important. We have to see that this conference goes off according to plan. Then we’ll worry about Price and Messier.”

  He gazed intently at Samantha. “Samantha, I’m working with the police and the RCMP who will be arriving in a day or two to help coordinate security arrangements for the conference. I’d like you to be in on it. You know Price. You might also recognize some of the people who work for him. Although we’re checking out all employees concerned, it’s still possible for somebody to infiltrate with false identification.”

  He paused and threw Tony a low-key smile. “I’m sure Tony will appreciate your help.”

  St. Clair got to his feet, indicating the meeting was over. “Thank you all for coming. Tony, don’t forget our meeting tomorrow.”

  * * * *

  “Does he really want my help, or does he just want me where he can keep an eye on me?” Samantha said in a disgruntled tone as she and Tony walked home.She shivered, drawing her coat collar around her neck. The rain had subsided, but the wind had the bite of autumn.

  They had stopped at Sam’s flat where everything appeared as usual. Bagheera had met them at the back door and they’d put out a fresh supply of food for him.

  “I don’t think the information I gave him was anything new.”

  “Probably it wasn’t,” Tony agreed. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “But he’s right, you know. You do know Bennett and some of the people who work for him, like the chauffeur in Paris, for instance. We need you on site.”