False Wall

by Veronica Heley

  Zoe thinned her lips. ‘I denied everything, but I was worried because that sort of thing can destroy a man’s reputation. For the following hour or two I monitored the markets and there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. The rumour seems to be confined to that one reporter.’

  Bea said, ‘Do you think Admiral Payne is the source of the rumour?’

  Zoe frowned. ‘Why should he be?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m just asking. What happened next?’

  ‘Your friend Piers rang me to say you’d both been drugged and that Sir Leon was in hospital. I didn’t know what to think. Then came another phone call from the reporter, again wanting to speak to Sir Leon and saying that if he wasn’t able to come to the phone, they were planning to print the story. I told him I’d have something to tell him within the hour. I grabbed a taxi and came here to see for myself what’s going on. The only thing that can save the situation is for Sir Leon to speak to the journalist—’ she looked at Leon’s calm face – ‘and that does not seem to be going to happen.’

  ‘You said there was no panic in the markets?’

  ‘Not yet. But the story is out there, waiting to break.’

  Leon was not one to talk freely about work, but Bea did know he’d been working on a big deal. ‘Ah, you think that Leon’s work on the Far Eastern project is at stake?’

  ‘Sir Leon’s been working on the sale of Holland Holdings’ Far Eastern branch for six months but, if this news breaks, the deal’s off.’

  Piers whistled. ‘Someone with insider knowledge wants to upset the deal?’

  Zoe stated the obvious. ‘If Sir Leon is arrested, or even questioned about the rape of a minor, the shares in Holland Holdings throughout the world will drop, wiping millions off his fortune. The Far Eastern sale itself would have to be renegotiated, probably on less profitable terms. Or called off. There’d be a knock-on effect throughout the whole organization. Untold damage could be done—’

  ‘And Leon might well end up in prison,’ said Bea. ‘Unfortunately, people are only too willing to believe the worst of those who are successful in life. Envy. Jealousy. They want to destroy anyone who’s worked harder or been luckier than them.’

  Silence, while they all thought about it.

  Zoe stared down at Leon with narrowed eyes. She was clearly not going to initiate any course of action. Her job was to take orders and obey them. Bea wasn’t even sure that Zoe believed their story, and if Bea couldn’t convince Zoe to clear Leon, then tomorrow’s papers would destroy him. She sought in her mind for something to help them. ‘Zoe, you said you were contacted at seven o’clock. How long before that had they had the information?’

  ‘My contact rang to ask for my comments on a tip-off they’d just received. I don’t know exactly what time they’d been given the information.’

  ‘But at seven o’clock, Leon and I were still walking round the block to get to the Admiral’s house. We didn’t arrive there until some time after seven, and I suppose it was half past, or maybe even a quarter to eight before we were separated and the stage was set for the compromising photographs. And, so far as I know, the police were not summoned to the party while we were there. I suppose the conspirators abandoned that part of their plan when we managed to escape. So, my question to you is, how come the reporter was informed that Leon had been arrested, before we had arrived at the party?’

  Zoe’s mouth snapped shut. ‘I ought to have seen that.’ Her eyes skittered around the room as she rethought her position. The frost in her manner thawed a couple of degrees.

  Leon’s calm demeanour never altered.

  Bea sighed. She wanted nothing so much as to get into her own bed and go to sleep, and that was out of the question. ‘Zoe, I think we must try to stop the rumour in its tracks. You told the reporter that you’d get back to him within the hour?’

  A nod.

  Bea hit her forehead. ‘I wish I could think straight. Ah, I know what might work. Sitting here in A & E, hearing people throw up … Why don’t we put a different slant on the truth? The key to eternal damnation in the eyes of the public is the reference to “under-aged girl”. Those words are just floating in the ether at the moment. The reporter might well use Leon’s disappearance as evidence of guilt unless we give them some part of the truth. Why don’t you tell him that, following a drinks party, Sir Leon was taken ill and removed to hospital? The reporter may then try to find out which hospital he’s been taken to, and they might or might not find him. But it doesn’t matter if they do, because the hospital will only give out information to family members.’

  ‘Do we allege that he’s been drugged?’

  ‘No, because we can’t prove it until the hospital have analysed the blood samples they took from us. I think we act bewildered. We say that he must have eaten or drunk something at the party which made him very ill. We say he had to be pumped out, which is true. We don’t swear that it was food poisoning, but we do wonder whether it might have been. No one who’s got food poisoning is going to think of having his wicked way with an under-aged girl.’

  Zoe’s face cracked into a thin smile, and she reached into her bag for her smartphone. ‘That, plus the fact that the timing is wrong, should scotch the rumour … I’ll have to go outside to use my phone, won’t I?’ She strode out, as neat and self-contained as ever.

  Piers said, ‘You’re a diamond, Bea. Zoe, on the other hand, is a poor man’s diamond – a zircon, in fact.’

  ‘Bother diamonds,’ said Bea, wincing at the thought of how easily she’d parted with the engagement ring that Hamilton had given her. ‘Now, let’s think what we do next.’

  Piers said, ‘Should we try to get Leon into a private room? Get specialists on the case?’

  ‘The doctor says they’re doing all they can and all he needs now is rest. Besides, I’ve no credit card at the moment. Which reminds me …’

  Piers said, ‘Surely the next thing to do is to inform the police?’

  ‘Don’t be daft. Mention “under-aged girls” to them, and the newspapers will be on to it straight away. No, it’s obvious. We need to get our lost property back.’

  ‘You’ve lost your marbles. How?’

  She said, ‘They’ve got Leon’s DNA to back up their claim that he molested someone at the party. It might not have been Admiral Payne’s granddaughter because, if I’m not going bananas, that girl is well over the age of consent. If they did use an under-age girl, then Venetia was there to act as cheese for the mouse, and they must have brought in someone else to take her place once the trap was sprung. Somehow we have to prevent them telling the police about it until we can sort that out. We need some evidence of the Admiral’s wrongdoing so as to have something on them in return.’

  She held Leon’s unresponsive hand to her lips, noting that he still had his watch on. So, the Admiral’s team had left Leon his watch, but taken hers? Why? She put that thought aside for the moment. ‘I don’t particularly want to leave Leon, but he’s in safe hands here. I suggest I return the kimono I borrowed, saying that I don’t want to make a fuss but something we ate or drank at their party put us both in hospital … Which means they won’t know whether I’m on to them or not. Then I ask Admiral Payne nicely for the return of various bits of lost property which we “accidentally” left in their house.’

  Piers frowned. ‘Haven’t you cancelled your cards yet? Has Leon?’

  ‘You asked Zoe to do his, and she refused. Maybe she’ll do it now she’s seen what state he’s in. As for me: no. Sophy’s phone ran out of juice after I rang you and, to be frank, I wasn’t feeling bright enough to tackle the issue. And yes, I know I ought to have done, but now I see that the time lapse has given them the opportunity to misuse our cards. And, if they have misused our cards, we can turn that fact to our advantage. If we can find even one fingerprint on them, we have them by the short and curlies.’

  Piers stared at her. ‘You think they’d hand them over, just like that?’

  ‘They will if we can push
them off balance.’ She looked at her wrist. No watch. ‘They also stole my watch. What time is it?’

  ‘Half past eleven.’

  ‘In a little while, when they’re tired and hopefully have retired to bed, I shall call on them and see what I can do to stir the pot. But first I need you to find me someone’s phone number. Leon’s not going to be able to give it to me. Leon retains a man called Hari Silva for security purposes. With any luck, he’ll be at my friend Anna’s house. They’re partners. She owns the Training College which used to be part of the Holland Holdings empire and she’s a good friend of mine. She lives in South Kensington, not far away. I can’t remember her phone number offhand, but I’ll write down the address for you and you can find it out for me, can’t you? Hari’s just the person I need in this situation.’

  Piers said, ‘Why do you need him?’

  ‘To find the container of accelerant which the firemen say was used to set my house on fire.’

  ‘Ah-ha. Come to think of it, the chief said he’d have to get someone round the following morning to do a proper search for anything that might help them decide what started the fire. Your garden’s full of tree, but it is just possible to get through to the house by climbing over and through the branches. It must have been done that way, because there’s no access through the house itself. He probably threw the empty can into the branches.’

  ‘Or,’ said Bea, ‘took it back with him into the Admiral’s house and hid it. I’d suggest looking in the dustbins around and about, before the binmen collect on Monday morning. It’s the weekend. No self-respecting refuse collector is going to remove rubbish on a Sunday, and I don’t think anyone’s going to start looking into the start of the fire on a Sunday, either. But, someone from the family might decide to dispose of the can in the morning, so let’s get to it first.’

  ‘If I’d been responsible,’ said Piers, ‘I’d be getting rid of the evidence tonight.’

  ‘Yes, but you think things through. These are amateurs; gifted amateurs, I give you that. But there’s a number of people involved in this and it seems to me that not all of them are singing from the same hymn sheet. I’m thinking particularly of whoever it was who gave the wrong information to the press too early, and the fact that they left us alone when the lights fused, so that we managed to escape before they could photograph us. They’ve been busy little bees today and are probably thinking they’ve done enough to knock us out of the ring for the time being. They’ll be looking forward to reading tomorrow’s newspapers and celebrating the success of their coup. So let’s hit them now, because tomorrow, if the news item they’ve planted fails to appear, they’ll start thinking how else to bring pressure on us.’

  Piers had an amused gleam in his eye. ‘Now why didn’t you want to ask Zoe for Hari’s phone number?’

  Bea had to smile. ‘Because he has all the skills of a private protection officer, plus those of a burglar. If I asked Zoe to get Hari to help me recover our lost property, and to search the Admiral’s house for a container which might have been used to torch my house, she’d put on an icy smile and say that two wrongs don’t make a right, and why don’t we leave it to the police to sort out … which I would do if I thought we weren’t up against time. Am I going to ask Hari to do something against the law? Mm. Yes. Possibly. And yes, ordin-arily I don’t believe in taking short cuts, but we’re about to go into the lion’s den and I want to make sure an angel is on hand to rescue us if anything goes wrong.’

  Piers grinned. ‘You said “we” and “us”. Are you so sure I’m coming with you?’

  ‘I rather hoped you would. But first, let’s get hold of Hari.’

  SIX

  Saturday night

  It was nearly midnight when Bea and Piers decanted from a taxi three doors away from the Admiral’s house. Leon was still asleep, but Zoe had effectively silenced her contact at the newspaper by telling him that, far from molesting a young girl, Sir Leon had been hospitalized with gastroenteritis.

  One part of Bea had wanted to stay by Leon’s bedside and hold his hand, while the common-sense part told her he wouldn’t be pleased to find she’d been weeping over his body if his career were at risk.

  Piers looked around. ‘I remember this street. I’ve painted a major and his lady at number thirty-three. Very stiff upper lip, mountains of medals, third son of an earl – or was it she who was the third daughter of ditto? If my memory serves me right, the major said that one of his neighbours, a Rear Admiral, also wanted his portrait done. I put him off because he wanted to haggle about the price. Do you think it’s the same one?’

  ‘I think ours is a full Admiral.’ She looked around for Hari. The streetlights were efficient in this part of London, but Hari could imitate a shadow better than most.

  Then he was there beside them. ‘Twelve o’clock and all’s well. Whoever lives in the basement is fast asleep and snoring. A security light has been left on in the corridor outside his or her room; another has been left on in the hall on the ground floor, and a third on the first-floor landing. I suspect some members of the family are still out enjoying the nightlife, won’t be back for a while, and when they do return they’ll enter through the basement and traipse up the stairs to the top floor where they live.’

  ‘The fuse has been replaced and the electricity is on?’

  A nod. ‘There’s no other lights showing on the ground floor, but there’s some on in the master bedroom at the back of the house on the first floor. There’s also a light and the flicker of a television set coming from one of the bedrooms on the top floor. Possibly left on by mistake when the young things went out clubbing?’

  ‘The three ages of man?’ said Piers, being facetious. ‘The oldest sleeps at the bottom, Mama and Papa Bear in the middle, and Baby Bears at the top?’

  Hari didn’t dignify that comment with a reply, but said, ‘You can see there used to be an alarm on the front of the house but it’s been removed. They probably haven’t paid this year’s bill. There’s a poor lock on the door into the basement, but two good locks and a bolt on the ground floor. Windows are open a crack on the bedroom floors, but they’ve been fixed with restricted opening, can’t be forced. If you like, I can go in through the basement, take the stairs up to the ground floor, and let you in at the front door.’

  Bea shook her head. ‘It would be more useful if you would go through the basement and out into the garden at the back to see if you can find the can of accelerant they used on my house. Piers and I will mount an assault on the front door, see if we can get them to give up our belongings without bringing the police into it.’ She counted on her fingers. ‘How many people do you think are in the house? There’s someone asleep in the basement, and I assume it’s the Admiral and his wife on the first floor. You say there’s no one in the other bedrooms on that floor?’

  ‘Dark and silent. A son and daughter-in-law who are not always here?’

  ‘So at the moment there’s only three people in the house and one of them is fast asleep. That’s not bad odds. We’d better go in now, before the youngsters come back. Here’s hoping we don’t get arrested.’

  Hari melted into the shadows.

  Bea mounted the steps to the front door with Piers at her back. She put her finger on the doorbell and kept it there, while Piers found the knocker and rapped out a rhythm on it.

  Nothing happened. ‘Don’t give up,’ said Bea, through her teeth. The night was chilly, and she’d left Sophy’s black jacket with her ruined clothes in a bag at the hospital. And the borrowed kimono. Bother!

  Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat!

  Bending sideways from under the canopy, Bea tried to see if the Paynes were responding to the assault on their bell and knocker. Yes, a light had gone on in a first-floor bedroom. Curtains swished open at a neighbour’s house. A man in pyjamas looked out. Next door. Not the Admiral.

  Bea said, ‘Keep at it. Somebody’s stirring.’

  Rat-a-tat-tat! Piers changed hands.

  ‘Hello, t
here!’ Bea stepped back on to the pavement, clear of the canopy, and cupped her hands to call out, ‘Lady Payne? It’s only me! I didn’t think you’d be in bed yet.’

  Curtains moved wider apart. A man’s head appeared beside a woman’s at the window.

  Rat-a-tat-tat! ‘Is anyone coming?’ Piers continued to work on the knocker.

  The woman disappeared, but the man stood there, gesturing to them to go away.

  ‘She’s coming down,’ said Bea. ‘Don’t stop now.’

  Piers said, ‘Let’s hope they don’t call the police.’

  No, they didn’t want the police, yet. They needed to get hold of their belongings before they’d been wiped clean of fingerprints.

  A bolt was withdrawn with a grating sound. Keys turned in locks. The door opened to reveal Lady Payne in a padded purple dressing gown, minus her eyebrows and with grease on her cheeks. Surprise! ‘What! Where have you been?’ She looked past them, up and down the street. ‘That’s not Sir Leon with you?’

  ‘No, he’s in hospital, very ill.’

  Lady Payne’s eyes narrowed. ‘The ambulance! You got away in the ambulance?’

  ‘Kind of you to ask. He’s in a coma. They don’t know if he’ll survive or not.’

  The woman clutched the doorframe. She seemed genuinely shocked. She didn’t fancy a murder charge, did she? Had never planned for that. And Bea could see her wondering what this news would do to their plan to incriminate Leon. Wheels were frantically turning in Lady Payne’s head. She would need time to recover.

  Good.

  Bea pushed past Lady Payne into the hall. ‘So sorry to disturb you. Didn’t think it was that late. You know Piers, of course? The portrait painter? My first husband. You asked him to paint you once, didn’t you?’

  Lady Payne glanced back and up. Was that the shadow of the Admiral at the bend of the stairs? Checking on the invasion, but leaving it to his wife to do the dirty? And was the Admiral as shocked by the news of Leon’s condition as his wife appeared to be?