‘Edith and the Admiral have scarpered?’
‘The youngsters hadn’t returned home by the time I left, but I went upstairs for a quick look around. There are signs that Admiral and Lady Payne packed a couple of bags and left in a hurry. There’s no sign of jewellery, cash or passports. Drawers have been pulled out and clothes dragged off hangers. There was a square-shaped space in the top right-hand drawer of her dressing table, into which a cash or jewellery box might have fitted. Downstairs, behind the kitchen, there’s an office area with a PC and a printer, and a couple of filing cabinets in it. Papers have been pulled out of the cabinet. Some have been left on the floor. There’s no laptop in sight, nor any briefcase. Their car was a distinctive white Mercedes. There’s a photo of the Admiral standing beside it in the kitchen. I saw the car outside the house earlier in the evening, but it’s gone now.’
Bea sighed. ‘They’ll be out of the country by morning.’
‘Probably. But what country will allow them to stay if an international warrant is issued for their arrest, and what will they use for money? How far will the Admiral’s pension take them?’
And, Hari, we can’t mention the fact that you’ve been trespassing on someone else’s property. So we’ll have to get Mona to contact the police to accuse the precious pair of murder and of covering it up. And then to report their disappearance.
Bea tried to clear her brain, which wasn’t responding. ‘You say the youngsters weren’t back by the time you left? They were up to something, planning something?’
Hari said, ‘Relax. Whatever it is, I’ve got it covered.’
Mona stirred. Bea reached an arm back to take the older woman’s hand. ‘Not long now. We’ll tuck you up safely in your own bed with a hot drink. Do you have a hot-water bottle, or an electric blanket? We’ll deal with the police tomorrow, after we’ve had a good night’s sleep.’
Mona tried to smile and nestled back into her corner again.
Bea wasn’t looking forward to the morning, either. She had a niggling feeling that they ought to have called the police in to deal with Edith the moment she’d smashed the vase into Rollo’s head, but it had seemed more important at the time to get him to hospital. Anyway, wasn’t flight considered an admission of guilt? Surely it would help their case that Edith had disappeared of her own accord?
Bea held her arm up to catch the light of a street lamp. She concentrated on her watch. Half past three. London never sleeps, and the traffic never ceases, though it does thin out a bit in the early hours.
Mona caught her breath on a snore. Hari and Bea exchanged rueful glances. Let her sleep. Life wasn’t going to be easy for anyone in that house in the immediate future, was it?
They drew up outside Mona’s house. No lights at the top of the house, but a couple had been left on in ground-floor rooms. Probably the youngsters had returned home, and gone to bed, not bothering to turn off the ground-floor lights? Typical.
Bea and Hari woke Mona and helped her down the steps to the basement. Mona was tottering with tiredness and it was Hari who managed to find her keys in her handbag and let them in. And we won’t refer to the times he’s let himself in with skeleton keys or whatever they are.
Bea made Mona a hot drink while Hari disappeared to reconnoitre upstairs.
Mona drank her hot milk, said she ought to brush her teeth, fell into bed and a deep sleep. That was probably the best thing she could do.
Hari returned to say there was still no sign of Edith or the Admiral, but that the youngsters were happily snoring away upstairs. He turned off all the lights on the ground floor, jammed a chair under the door at the bottom of the stairs leading up from the basement, but left a light burning in the corridor in case Mona got up in the night and wasn’t sure where she was. Then he guided Bea over Mona’s garden, through the barbed-wire barrier, across the mound of bricks and into the uneven ground of her own territory.
Her house was in darkness. ‘What happened to Piers? Is he still here? I’d forgotten him.’ She hadn’t called him down to eat a pizza with them at supper time. She hadn’t thought to brief him on what they’d planned to do that night. Oh well, either he’d gone back home or he’d dossed down in the spare bedroom on the top floor.
Oliver, too. They’d left him working on his laptop. He’d be tucked up in his own room up top.
Her brain zigzagged. The youngsters were safely in bed at Mona’s house. So they hadn’t been out doing anything awful to Bea’s house.
Thankfully.
Hari opened the French windows into the cavern that had once been her office, switched on a torch, and guided her through the smell to the stairs, and up to the kitchen.
All was dark. And quiet. Peaceful. Bea had the odd fancy that the house was waiting to be brought back to life again on the morrow, with lights and sound and people working and phones ringing and clients arriving …
Hari disappeared for a moment to check that the front door was safely locked and bolted. ‘It looks all right.’
She said, ‘I suppose we might as well go to bed, too. Can you remove the blackout material from my bedroom window? I hate to sleep in the dark.’
He followed her up the stairs to her new bedroom. They both looked at the next flight of stairs. Hari said, ‘Go to bed. I’ll check everything’s all right up at the top and see to your blackout while you’re getting ready for bed. Then I’ll catch a few hours on the settee next door.’
It seemed less trouble to obey him than to argue. As she brushed her hair, Hari tapped on her door. ‘All’s well upstairs. Both of them fast asleep. See you in the morning.’
She flumped on the bed, too tired even to yawn. In five hours’ time or less, the agency staff would be arriving, to be helped to their new desks, with untested equipment, no landlines, builders and gas men to be dealt with and … the horrid mess at the Admiral’s house … Rollo would need to be collected from hospital, provided he’d got through the night and …
A spot of prayer might calm her. She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling in the dark. Except it wasn’t that dark. Birds were heralding the new day. Drat them! The sun would be up soon. Far too soon. It was all very well having long hours of daylight in the summer months, but when you wanted a good night’s sleep … how odd of God to have arranged things this way. She supposed it showed he cared about us. We ought to be grateful for …
Aches and pains and an over-active brain.
Good friends. Her mind skittered around, thinking of all the wonderful people who had helped her since …
But not Leon, who’d bunked off.
No one would see if she shed a tear or two.
The birdsong was so sweet. Piercingly sweet. Thank the Lord for birdsong.
She was never going to be able to get to sleep, and would be good for nothing when morning finally came. She watched the ceiling brighten …
Monday morning
Monday mornings are never easy. Bea groaned as she levered herself out of bed and stumbled to the window. She looked out over the ravaged garden and squeezed her eyes shut. What a lovely sunny day. Far too bright for her eyes. And ears. Too much birdsong. Too much of everything-being-jolly-in-this-best-of-all-worlds. The world wasn’t at its best for her that day. Or for Mona, or Rollo, or anyone else who’d been dragged into this nasty affair.
Dear Lord, you know that I must be busy this day. If I forget you, please don’t forget me.
There were sounds of men moving around. Water gushing.
Water? Did they still have water? Yes, they did.
Oh. Why did she think they might not have water?
She shook her head at herself. Her eyes wouldn’t open properly. Her shoulder ached where she’d slept on her arm. And there were times when her brain responded with an answer to a question, and other times when it didn’t. This was one of the ‘Doesn’t respond’ variety.
She dressed in a severely business-like outfit. She didn’t feel business-like, but imagined something might rub off on her if she prete
nded she was. Diamond ring on left hand. No diamond pendant round her neck. Enough was enough.
Someone raced down the stairs outside her room from the top of the house, making her jump. Her heartbeat went into overdrive. Oliver? Yes, only a young man would dive down two steps at a time. Piers wouldn’t. He was older and more staid. Well, sort of.
Could she face breakfast? Someone was frying bacon.
Oh, wow! Triple wow! Hari …?
The scent of bacon cooking drew her down the stairs and into the kitchen, from which the blackout had also been removed. Piers and Oliver were already at work on their plates, Hari was cooking in the microwave. Winston was plump in the middle of the table, watching carefully to see that he got his share.
‘Morning,’ said Piers.
‘Sleep well?’ said Oliver.
‘Coffee first, or juice?’ Hari, ever practical.
‘What news?’ She grabbed orange juice in one hand and coffee in the other.
Oliver took the last piece of toast. ‘I think I’ve got the link between the Admiral and the hanky-panky in the Far East all sorted out. When they had an opportunity to meet, and so on and so forth. The Admiral is on the board of several companies, as I said. A fellow director, name and address supplied, is also on the board of another firm … company number two, as you might say. One of the directors on company number two is also on the board of the underbidder in the fight to buy out Holland Holdings in the Far East. According to the Financial Times, the deal was signed yesterday, all right and tight. The underbidder lost out, big time. There was a flurry of interest in their shares a couple of days ago, but now that the deal is signed and sealed, the underbidder’s shares are hitting an all-time low. Which means that if Admiral Payne had been offered money to destroy Leon’s reputation, he’s failed big time and lost credibility as well. With any luck, he’d also invested in the underbidder and his shares will now be worthless.’
Bea nodded. It all made sense, in a horrid sort of way. Stupidity is not confined to the upper middle classes, or even to the middle classes, or even to … she told herself she was wittering and should stop.
Piers pushed his plate aside. ‘A fine hostess you are, Bea. There I was, working away on your portrait – which you haven’t asked about, but which is coming along nicely – and I didn’t realize how time was marching along till the light went. At that point I was so tired I sat down for a bit and must have nodded off. When I woke up, it was dark but the lights wouldn’t come on. Only then I remembered what had happened, and came downstairs to find you. At least the side lights work down here. Only, the place was deserted. You might have left me a note to say you were going out.’
‘Sorry. A lot happened.’
‘Well, I didn’t know what to think. I was hungry, but there wasn’t anything much to eat in the fridge, so I phoned round to see if I could get a pizza delivered, and eventually I got someone who said they would for double the price, which was daylight robbery, but I agreed, and I was waiting by the front door when I heard the delivery come, at least I thought it was them, and then there was a lot of crazy laughter outside, and a flash which I thought must be lightning. So I opened the door to find a couple of yobs on the pavement outside here, frozen in mid-step, mouths and eyes wide open, brandishing a tyre lever. So I shouted, they dropped the lever and ran off. I’d got my phone in my hand so took a couple of snaps, though I think they were too far away by that time to get a good picture.
‘Hari heard me yell and came down to see what had happened. He’d rigged up a camera in the front window overlooking the pavement, so if anyone tried to interfere with the water meter, the camera would take a picture. Which was the flash I saw. He collected the tyre lever, which has such a rough surface I don’t think it will take any prints, but it is marked with one of those invisible pen thingies, so we should be able to trace the owner. Or the police will. So Hari and I shared the pizza which arrived at that point, and then we went back to bed. So, what I say is, how soon do we call the police? Well, we should finish breakfast first, right?’
Bea accepted another cup of coffee and bacon sandwich. ‘Yes, let’s have breakfast first. It’s going to be a long day.’
Ten frantic days later
Bea got back to her desk – which was now in a corner of the main office – in time to receive a voice message from Leon’s annoying PA to say that he proposed to pick her up at eight and take her out to dine. With no apologies for not having contacted her for so long. Well, better late than never.
Bea wondered if she had time to get a manicure and hairdo? No, she hadn’t.
Shrugging, she turned to the next item on the agenda, which was signing the wages cheques for her staff. None of them had defaulted except Carrie, who was still on sick leave and probably would never return. Bea hoped not, anyway. Betty was so much easier to work with.
At half past six Bea saw the last of her staff out, switched off her computer and went upstairs to shower and change her clothes. Hari and Anna had fixed her up some curtains temporarily, but it still gave her a sense of dislocation when she looked out of the window over her garden and into those of her neighbours. Mona’s plot had been tidied up and swept, and her garden shed propped into an almost upright position.
The insurance company had agreed that the walls should be rebuilt using salvaged bricks, which was going to cost an arm and a leg, but would be in keeping with the surroundings. Bea had been interested to learn that even walls could be listed for preservation. However, this meant that every brick in the mounds of rubble between the gardens would have to be scrutinized and either rejected or set aside for a rebuild. Then new foundations would be dug and filled with concrete. Only after that would the work of reinstating the walls begin.
Bea was in consultation with a landscape gardener found for her by Maggie, who hadn’t let childbirth interfere with work. The designer understood that Bea wanted an easy maintenance but pretty garden in which she could sit, and which would welcome all visitors, including Winston and any other cats that might come adventuring. And birds, of course.
Bea was still wondering whether or not to include a fountain. It would be a good opportunity to put one in, but … how would you keep Winston and other cats from eating any goldfish? Or perhaps you could have a rock thingy with water sliding over it and down into a pit below, to be recycled? But then, you wouldn’t be able to have any fish.
Some people said that water added another dimension to a garden, and perhaps that was true, but didn’t pools require maintenance? Would a water feature be more trouble that it was worth? Bea couldn’t make up her mind.
Her garden was but a shadow of its former self, waiting for change.
Change could be good for one, keeping you alive and forward-looking. It could also be painful. Bea had steeled herself to accept the inevitable. You couldn’t go back in time.
So, back to basics. What should she wear for dinner with Leon? Her diamond ring, of course. But apart from her ring? The odd item of clothing?
Leon was on time. Bea let him in. She appreciated the aftershave which he was wearing, but was concerned about the slight thickening of his neck which had taken place since they last met. He put out his arm to draw her to him and she allowed that and a kiss on her cheek. But then she disengaged herself to shut and bolt the door. The electricity had been restored but the new alarm system wasn’t working too well, and the men weren’t due to come back to deal with it for another couple of days.
‘It seems ages,’ said Leon, going ahead of her down the hall.
It did seem ages. She’d rung him so many times to leave voice messages, but he’d only rung her once to say he was on his way from one place to another. Even then he hadn’t stayed on the line to talk as he’d been interrupted by an important phone call. How long was it since they’d had a proper conversation?
The last time they’d met had been in the hospital … and then Leon had flown out to rescue his business …
‘Hello, what’s this?’ He halte
d in the doorway to her tem-porary office.
‘I told you, the basement was flooded after—’
‘Oh, yes. I remember. I told you to close the business but—’
‘I’m glad I didn’t. It would have thrown my staff out of work, and we’d never have sorted out the problems at the Paynes’. My living room is one floor up nowadays. Follow me.’ She led the way. ‘We’re all dried out down below, a new electrical circuit has been installed, the telephone system is back on and the decorators start in a couple of days’ time. Then we’ll put down new carpets and move the office back down again.’
He wasn’t really interested. ‘What a bore for you.’ He surveyed her new living room. ‘A bit cramped. I wish you’d come out to join me. I took the opportunity to have another few days in Japan this week. Amazing place. You’d have enjoyed it.’
When had she last had a holiday? Ah well. Soon, perhaps. When customers and clients had realized that a small thing like an arson attack hadn’t affected the running of the agency, work had come pouring in. Word of mouth had it that the Abbot Agency – like the Windmill Theatre in the war – never closed. The link between Anna’s College and the Abbot Agency had undoubtedly helped, and so had an article in the local paper, thanks to that inquisitive and ultimately helpful journalist.
Upstairs electricity had been restored everywhere, new panes of glass fitted where the old had had to be replaced, and although temporary curtains were up at the back of the house, replacements were on order and would be delivered as and when they were ready.
Leon walked around the room, touching this and that. ‘I really missed you in Japan. There was so much to see.’
‘I’d love to visit Japan some day, but I couldn’t get away this time. Too much to do here.’
‘I said I’d buy you out. You would have been free to join me.’
She shook her head. ‘I couldn’t shed my responsibilities so quickly.’
He didn’t want to hear that. Restlessly, he went to look out of the back window. ‘How strange it all looks from here. A moonscape. I understand the insurance are paying to replace the walls. I’ll buy you another mature tree, of course.’
False Wall Page 23