by Sibel Hodge
And then I was down to my last one. Thank God.
I rang the doorbell on a small, whitewashed cottage with a picture book garden, wondering what sort of weird and wonderful things Eleanor Jones had stashed in her box.
A slim woman wearing a tailored trouser suit opened the door to me. She had long, brown hair pulled up into a neat chignon.
‘Can I help you?’ Her clipped accent matched the expensive suit.
‘Hi, I’m Amber Fox. I’m from Hi-Tec Insurance, and I’m investigating the safety deposit box robbery at Kinghorn Thomas Bank. Have you got time to answer a few questions?’
She hesitated for a second before fixing me with a smile. ‘Of course. Come in.’ She led me into an equally expensive looking lounge with lots of photos on the walls. Landscapes and portraits filled the room. ‘Please, have a seat.’
I glanced around. ‘You have a lovely home.’ Flattery was always good to put people at ease. ‘These are great photos.
She smiled. ‘Thank you. I’m a photographer.’
One of the photos in particular caught my eye – a small black and white photo perched on top of a bookcase. It looked old. Probably taken in the 60s sometime. But I didn’t say anything about it. Not yet. I’d wait to see what she said first.
‘I’m not sure how I can help you, exactly. I’m afraid I didn’t have much of value in my box.’ She fiddled with her fingers in her lap. ‘Just a few pieces of jewellery that my mother left me.’ She looked back at me with an expression on her face was like that of a child in severe agony.
It vanished as quickly as it had arrived. Maybe I’d just imagined it.
‘Why did you choose Kinghorn Thomas in particular to deposit your jewellery?’
She seemed to realize she was fiddling and stopped. ‘They have a good reputation – well, apart from the robbery, of course.’ She flashed me an ironic smile. ‘I thought it would be safe there.’
‘Did you know Edward Kinghorn or Carl Thomas before you looked into depositing your jewellery there?’
‘No.’
‘How about Deborah Thomas? Do you know her?’
Her hand flew to her pearl necklace and she fiddled with it instead. Beads of sweat formed on her upper lip. ‘No, I can’t say I do.’
‘Have you filed a claim with the bank’s insurance company for the loss of your jewellery?’ I asked.
She smoothed down her trousers. ‘No. Like I said, the pieces aren’t particularly valuable so I didn’t really think it was worth making a claim. It was more of sentimental value.’
I stood.
She glanced up at me, surprised and relieved that my questions were over.
‘Well, thanks very much for your time.’ I shook her hand.
Strange, I thought as I made my way to my car. Strange that the old black and white photo on her bookshelf showed a much younger Eleanor and Deborah at what looked like their university graduation party. Dressed in their black gowns and caps, they had their arms around each other, smiling ecstatically for the camera. Also strange were the pearls she was wearing. They had an identical heart-shaped pearl on them just like Deborah’s necklace. I didn’t believe for a second that the box held her mother’s jewellery. So what did it hold, and was there any connection between what was in the box and Deborah?
Romeo called my mobile as I motored towards Hi-Tec.
‘Hi.’ His voice was low and husky.
I felt a burny twinge in the depths of my stomach, but I wasn’t going to be the first one to bring up the subject of us. I didn’t seem to be thinking rationally lately. Maybe when this case was over I could finally make a decision about where my love life was headed. Maybe he didn’t miss me, anyway. Maybe the decision whether to end it for good between us had already been taken out of my hands by him.
‘Hi, yourself.’
‘The forensic tech people haven’t found anything untoward going on at the bank,’ he said, getting straight down to business.
‘Hmm. Maybe they just covered their tracks well,’ I said. ‘I’m certain that Edward Kinghorn was using clients’ money at the bank for illegal sports betting. He bet massive amounts of money on Levi throwing the fight in the eighth round.’
‘Really? That puts another spin on things.’
‘Hacker found out huge bets were placed all over the country from other people who don’t actually exist. I think you could easily start a new investigation into Vinnie for sharing insider tip-offs.’
‘When I’ve finished with the robbery and Carl’s murder, I’ll start looking into it, thanks.’
I filled him in on the other details I’d found out so far. Even if Romeo wasn’t sharing all his information, I wasn’t just going to stop because we weren’t actually seeing each other anymore.
‘Well, I checked out Levi’s alibi for the time of the robbery,’ Romeo said. ‘He really was at a health farm in Scotland.’
‘That figures. It doesn’t mean he didn’t get someone else to do it if he wanted what was in Vinnie’s safety box.’
‘True.’ Romeo paused for a beat. ‘The post-mortem test results came back on Carl Thomas. Cause of death was the knife wound to his throat. No surprise there, really. We’ve managed to find out he ate an early dinner on Saturday night before he went to the boxing match. From his stomach contents, the pathologist determined he was killed sometime between midnight and 4 a.m.’
‘Thanks. The other people I know of with possible motives for the robbery are Edward and Deborah.’ I pulled into the Hi-Tec car park and turned off the engine. ‘There’s also a possibility that Craig “The Knife” Hanson was involved.’
‘Craig Hanson? I haven’t heard that name for a long time. He did the First National Bank robbery with Lee, didn’t he?’
‘Yep. And according to his wife, he went missing a few weeks before the safety box robbery.’
‘Well, I’ll check into his whereabouts,’ Romeo said. ‘Edward Kinghorn was at a big banker’s dinner on Saturday night, which went on until after 5 a.m. Witnesses saw him there the whole time.’
‘So he couldn’t have killed Carl, then. And, to be honest, I doubt that Edward could’ve overpowered a stocky guy like Carl and slit his throat. He is in a wheelchair, after all. What about Deborah’s whereabouts that night?’
‘I don’t know. We’re still trying to get hold of her. She’s not answering her phone and there’s no sign of her at Ashcombe House.’
I tapped the steering wheel and leaned my head back against the headrest. ‘Maybe she’s done a runner. I think she’s involved in the robbery somehow.’ I thought back to Eleanor Jones’s safety box. ‘I’ll see if I can get hold of her as well.’
‘I’ll give you an update when I have something.’
‘Great.’ I hesitated, waiting to see if he’d say anything else. Seconds passed and neither of us spoke.
‘Bye, Amber.’ And he disconnected.
Before I could analyse the psychology of that, Dad phoned.
‘How are you?’ he asked.
‘Busy, busy, busy. How are you? Anymore burglaries in the neighbourhood?’ I grabbed my rucksack and eased myself out the door.
‘No. Nothing so far.’
‘Has Sabre pooped yet?’ I headed up the stairs to my office.
‘No, that’s why I’m calling. This isn’t like him at all. Do you think I should take him to the vet?’
‘No. Give him some prunes or something.’
‘Good idea. I’ll let you know as soon as he’s de-pooped.’
I grimaced. ‘Great. I’ll thoroughly look forward to it. How’s Mum?’
‘She’s…OK. Have you seen Suzy?’
Suzy’s my younger sister. We were about as opposite as the arctic and the desert. She was the arctic. Very cold and controlled. I think she’d actually been switched at birth.
‘No. The only time I usually see her is at your house.’ I deposited my rucksack on my desk and mouthed “Yo” at Hacker who looked up briefly from his keyboard.
‘Do you
want to come for lunch on Thursday?’ Dad said. ‘That’ll cheer your mum up. Suzy’s coming.’
‘Sure. And Dad…’
‘Yes?’
‘Why don’t you take Mum out for dinner or something? I think she’s feeling a bit neglected at the moment.’
Silence for a while as he thought about this. ‘Good idea. I’ll stop off on my way home and get her some flowers, too.’
‘She’d like that. See you Thursday, unless Sabre poops before that.’ I hung up and leaned over the desk, eyeing Hacker. ‘So what have you got for me?’
‘I’m still working on the audio from the fight to see what Carl was saying.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not getting very far, though. It might be a lost cause. But…’ He held up his finger as he took a swig of sparkling water. ‘I have found out about the woman at Swallow Mews who’s having the affair with Levi.’
‘OK, shoot.’
‘Her name’s Amanda Forsythe,’ he said and waited for me to say something.
I thought about the name, head on one side, for a moment. I recognized it, but I didn’t know where from. ‘Who’s she?’
‘She writes those erotic novels.’ Brad suddenly appeared behind me.
‘Stop creeping up on me!’ I rolled my eyes at him.
‘But I’m bringing gifts.’ He grinned at me and plonked a box of doughnuts on my desk.
I eyed the box with appreciation. Yay! ‘OK, maybe I can make an exception for doughnuts.’
Tia came into the room carrying a tray of drinks. Coffee for Tia and me, and some kind of yucky herbal tea for the boys that looked like iguana piss.
I held the box out to her. ‘Doughnut?’
‘Cool!’ She grabbed one with a paper napkin and nibbled on it.
By the time she was half way through hers I’d already wolfed down mine and was getting stuck into seconds. ‘So Levi’s having an affair with a famous author. I feel sorry for Letitia,’ I said in between mouthfuls. ‘I wonder how long it’s been going on. Maybe this really is all about an affair. Maybe Levi’s been seeing her for the past four years and he’d do anything to stop people finding out, including getting Carl killed. Or maybe Levi wasn’t worried about someone finding out about him having an affair, but Amanda was worried it would affect her reputation instead.’ I didn’t really believe that. I was just throwing out wild theories in the hope that one of them would be the right one.
‘I love her books. They’re awesome,’ Tia said.
‘Well, you’re a dark horse.’ I grinned at her. ‘I had you more pegged as a cute, cosy mystery lover, not an erotic romance lover.’
Tia glanced at Hacker and blushed.
‘I like the bodice rippers myself,’ Brad said, giving me a look that said he’d like to rip my bodice off. Not that I was wearing one, of course, but if I was, he’d definitely want to rip it off.
I changed the subject sharpish. ‘Is there anything unusual about her?’ I held the doughnut box out to Brad and Hacker.
Hacker ignored it and pulled out a plastic tub of fruit salad.
Brad nodded to my doughnut. ‘Is that your third one?’
I was of the firm opinion that there was no such thing as too many doughnuts.
‘How can you eat that?’ Brad asked me.
‘Easy. I’ll give you a demonstration.’ I took a huge bite, getting sugar all over my nose, and chewed. ‘See.’
Brad shook his head. ‘You are what you eat. You need to look after your diet and eat more healthy food.’
Yeah, yeah, I know.
I pretended I hadn’t heard him and concentrated on Hacker.
‘No. There’s nothing unusual about her.’ Hacker spooned in a mouthful of kiwi fruit. ‘Her finances all seem to check out. She earns a pretty package a year from her novels. She bought Swallow Mews ten years ago. She owns a Porsche. No children, no ex-husband anywhere. She seems pretty clean. When she was burgled, she contacted her insurance company to claim for a stolen laptop. They told her she had to report it to the police first and get a crime number, but so far she hasn’t.’
I pursed my lips and thought about this. ‘Maybe her burglary was someone trying to steal her latest erotic romance novel before it came out in print.’
‘Yeah, that could happen. Amanda Forsythe sells more copies than J.K. Rowling,’ Tia said. ‘It would be like someone trying to steal the new Harry Potter book before it comes out.’
‘But why didn’t she report it to the police?’ I asked. ‘I think I need to get that answer from her.’
‘The only odd thing about her is that she doesn’t give out too many interviews.’ Hacker chewed on an orange segment. ‘That’s pretty weird for a best-selling author.’
‘Maybe she’s just a really private person, like Dad is,’ Tia said.
Tia’s dad was a famous fashion designer, but he’d shied away from the paparazzi because he’d had a big secret to hide for a long time. Did Amanda have a big secret other than her affair with Levi?
‘If she’s selling more than J.K. Rowling, maybe she doesn’t need to give out interviews.’ I licked my fingers and caught Brad eyeing me with appreciation, so I stopped abruptly and wiped them on a tissue. ‘Did you find anything else about Levi yet? Anything that happened four years ago?’
Hacker shook his head. ‘I can’t find anything. Not a whiff of anything scandalous that Vinnie could blackmail him over.’
‘Can you check into Letitia’s background, too?’ I asked Hacker. ‘Maybe it’s something to do with her, not Levi.’
‘Sure thing.’
‘How did you get on with your list of safety deposit box owners?’ Brad asked me.
I sat forward in my chair. ‘Pretty rubbish. Until…’ I did a drum roll. ‘I got to the last one. Eleanor Jones had something interesting in her box.’
‘What?’ Tia said.
‘Jewellery.’ I grinned.
Tia looked confused. ‘But there must’ve been a lot of jewellery in those boxes. What was special about hers?’
‘Because it wasn’t really jewellery.’ My grin widened.
‘Huh?’ Tia said.
‘She said there was jewellery in there, but she was lying. And she said she didn’t know Deborah Thomas, but she was lying about that, too.’
‘How do you know?’ Tia asked. ‘Can you teach me that? I’d like to know when people are lying.’
‘No!’ I said. ‘It’s not fair. I need a superhuman power.’ I pointed to Hacker. ‘You can do Voodoo and Reiki; Tia’s psychic and can do spells; and Brad can kill people by probably just looking at them. If I can’t be the Invisible Woman, then knowing when people are lying is going to be my superhuman power.’ Actually, Brad had a few other superhuman powers, too. He could do funny things to me, and I also suspected that Action Man was modelled on him – Eagle-Eyes Action Man, Karate Combat Action Man, Operation Jungle Action Man. I could go on, but I’m sure you get the picture.
‘Hey! Maybe we should do a spell for this case.’ Tia shot out of her chair. ‘Shall I get my spell book?’
I groaned. ‘No. But if you have some psychic premonition about the case you’d like to share then I’m all ears.’
She held her fingertips to her temples and closed her eyes. After a few minutes, she shook her head. ‘No. I’m not getting anything.’
‘Bummer,’ I said. ‘Did you get anything from your list?’ I asked Brad.
‘Nothing useful.’
‘Did you find any movement on Craig Hanson’s bank accounts since he left his wife?’ I peered up at Hacker.
He glanced at one of the computer screens on his desk. ‘Come and have a look at this.’
I stood behind Hacker and looked over his shoulder at the screen. Two mini snapshots were open showing two different bank accounts. As Hacker scrolled through the screen, various transactions appeared on them spanning the last six years.
‘OK, this one is a joint account for Craig and his wife.’ Hacker pointed to the screen.
Numerous regular withdrawals
and debit card payments had been made to supermarkets, women’s boutiques, hairdressers, and beauty salons. The last payment was yesterday to A Snip in Time – a local hairdresser that charged my whole month’s salary for a cut and highlights. Craig’s wife was spending enough on beauty treatments to keep John Frieda in business single-handedly. Which reminded me, I seriously needed to get my hair trimmed. I shoved a wayward curl behind my ear and turned my attention to the other bank account, which was solely in Craig’s name.
He’d been getting regular pay cheques from a company called Plumb Fix for the past four years, but the last cheque paid in was dated eight weeks ago. It looked like Craig had a regular job for the last four years, but he was also paying thousands of pounds in cash every week into his bank account. Had he really turned his back on a life of crime to go legit? Judging by the cash payments, either he was doing a hell of a lot of plumbing jobs on the side, or he was getting money from other sources, and I was betting Craig was into something illegal. And why did the cheques from Plumb Fix suddenly stop a few weeks before the robbery? Could the tempting lure of a bank job have been too much for him? Of course, people could change, but Craig didn’t seem to be the changing type.
Craig was also obsessed with poker and made regular daily payments to an online gambling site called Poker King. The payments added up to about three hundred pounds worth of poker games per day. All the online payments stopped six weeks ago.
Brad and I exchanged a suspicious glance.
‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Brad asked me.
I nodded. ‘His wife said he went out for cigarettes six weeks ago and never came back. Judging by his wages, he hasn’t been turning up for work, either. And he hasn’t been indulging in his poker addiction lately. I think Craig’s finally had what’s coming to him and he’s gone to the big old felons’ prison in the sky.’ I chewed my bottom lip. ‘Another dead end then,’ I said. ‘Oops, excuse the pun.’