False Diamond--An Abbot Agency Mystery (7 page)

One of the office girls came in with a cafetière of coffee and some cups on a tray. She said to Leon, ‘We want to thank you, all of us. It was a lovely thought.'

‘My pleasure.' Another charming smile. The girl left, also smiling.

Bea poured coffee.

He said, ‘Oops. I've forgotten the after-dinner mints.'

‘It's lunchtime.'

‘We'll have to make sure we have some after dinner tonight, then.'

‘Not tonight. Soon, perhaps.' She sat back in her chair and tried to think. Max was in trouble, needed her to rescue him … and if she didn't, if she did nothing, then he'd take out a loan at prohibitive interest rates, knowing him … and lose his money, because Benton was not the man to rescue the fortunes of H & B, was he?

She said, ‘Why don't you accept their offer, take charge of the firm and get rid of Benton?'

‘Throwing good money after bad? I know nothing about that sort of business. It would be a disaster. Besides, why should I?'

She grimaced. ‘You want me to pull your chestnuts out of the fire for you instead?'

He grinned. ‘It's worth a try, isn't it? You have all the skills needed, you dislike Benton and you don't like the thought of Dilys being hounded to her death. Plus, you're already involved through Max.'

Bea looked at the clock. ‘I have a three o'clock appointment. Someone's references haven't checked out and I'm not going to find the woman a job until I know what's happened. I don't take anyone on without references, you see.'

‘From me, you mean?' He produced a couple of cards and laid them on her desk. ‘You can check out the sale of my business and my house, if you wish. I believe that sort of information can be accessed through the Internet. Of course, I could be deep in debt and these sales might be keeping me from a debtor's court. Now, how do you check that?'

‘Have we a mutual friend or acquaintance?'

‘How about my member of parliament? I'm an active and generous supporter of the Liberal party, so he'll remember me. What else? Do you need a reference as to my character? I promise you I have contracted no particular disease; I am a member of a gym, swim several times a week but don't do press-ups or weightlifting.'

Bea tried not to laugh. ‘What about your morals?'

He raised his hands in mock indignation. ‘No grubbier than most. I am told I was baptized, I know I was confirmed, but I can't say I go to church on Sundays, except at Christmas and Easter. I sleep soundly, I enjoy my meals and a glass or two of beer in the evenings. I like the Beatles but not the Rolling Stones. I adore Gilbert and Sullivan but abhor Wagner. I read James Patterson, but not Dostoevsky. Will that do?'

Now she did laugh. ‘I will check, you know.'

‘So you should.' There was a tap on the door, and he stood. ‘Your appointment, I assume. May I call for you at eight this evening?'

She nodded, forgetting she'd intended to keep him at arm's length for a while. Well, why not? ‘Nothing elaborate. A steak house, perhaps? Oh, and about Dilys. My experience is that you can't rescue those who are in thrall to their abuser.'

‘So you get at it another way, by eliminating the abuser.'

How on earth did he think that could be done?

She dealt with her visitor – no references, no job, sorry – and turned back to her computer to check Leon out. Yes, and yes. The dry cleaning business had existed, he'd been the sole proprietor, it had sold … yes … and for a nice sum, too. The house was still on the market but it had been priced at over two million, so … Difficult to check on debts, though.

She hesitated about ringing Max, but did eventually do so. ‘Dear Max, I'm trying to check up on one of the Holland clan. Do you happen to be acquainted with the member of parliament for … I have the name here somewhere. One of the Exeter constituencies. He's a Liberal Democrat, so you may not—?'

‘Which Holland? The one who's just crawled out from under a stone? Benton says he's no good to us. He hasn't been in touch with you, has he? The nerve of the man!'

‘He's been to see me, yes. He's staying with Benton, it seems, and—'

‘Benton took pity on him. More than I would have done. Mother, don't let him fool you. He's an undischarged bankrupt looking for a handout. He hasn't asked you for a loan yet, has he?'

‘Nothing like that. He's invited me out for a meal this evening.'

‘Mother! What are you like! You'll be landed with the bill.'

She was silent. She didn't think she would be landed with the bill. She didn't think Leon was an undischarged bankrupt. Only a tiny wriggle of common sense insisted that she check him out before she saw him again. But perhaps Max wasn't the best person to ask?

She said, ‘I'll remember to take my cards with me, in case he defaults.'

‘Whatever will you do next!' He cut the connection.

Bea made a childish face at the phone, dialled the House of Commons and asked to speak to the Liberal Democrat member for Exeter. The West Country was a Lib Dem stronghold and there were three who might fit the bill. She quoted the address of his house and was passed to a secretary who was regretfully unable to give out any information about … But if she liked to write in …? No, sir was not available at the moment.

Bea wondered what else she had expected.

So she rang the man who knew everything and was discreet about it. ‘CJ, a small problem. I am trying to keep out of the Holland and Butcher fiasco, but there's been a development which may lead to the involvement of the police. I've been contacted by a man called Leon Holland, long estranged from the main branch of the family, who is concerned about the health and safety of Benton's wife. He may be right to worry, but he's an odd customer and I can't say that I trust him altogether.

‘I've tried to check up on him as far as I can. He's just sold his business and put his house on the market and that all seems above board, but I need a character reference before I decide whether or not to take him seriously. He says he's a Lib Dem supporter for a certain constituency in Exeter, and his member of parliament will vouch for him. Unfortunately, said member's secretary won't give me the time of day.'

‘A man can give money to a political party and yet not be someone you'd wish to leave alone in a room with the family silver. You don't trust him?'

‘He's an interesting personality, not easy to read. I'm not sure what I feel about him.'

‘You are attracted to him?'

She tried on a laugh for size. ‘I wouldn't go as far as that.'

A pause. Bea could hear him tapping … on his desk? He had long fingers, very clean nails, always manicured. She made a note to book herself in for a manicure tomorrow. He said, ‘Leave it with me.'

So she did.

Bea hoped that Maggie would return before Leon came to collect her for the evening, but there was no sign of the girl by the time the office closed for the evening.

Oh well. Time for a shower and to decide what she should wear. Nothing too flashy, something warm but of good quality.

Bea took care with her make-up, reminding herself yet again to make another appointment with her manicurist. She decided that a fawn and white cashmere sweater with a cowl neck would be warm enough for a casual winter date, teamed with her favourite caramel skirt, which was long enough to cover the tops of her boots.

Bea loved boots. She had a collection of them, long, medium and short. These particular boots were new and in suede, soft as silk. She zipped them up to the knee and checked that her skirt hung correctly. She hesitated about whether to wear jewellery or not. She always wore the wedding ring Hamilton had given her, and during work hours she wore costume jewellery: a stickpin on a collar and a string of beads, or a modern pendant to match whatever it was she was wearing. Now she pinned on an antique gold brooch in the shape of a flower and, not without hesitation, pushed her diamond engagement ring on to her finger. She was aware that she was sending various messages to Leon by wearing her engagement ring. She was reminding him that she still thought of her deceased husband, and she was also reminding him that Dilys's ring was not all that it ought to be.

As she left her bedroom, she thought she heard a door close overhead. She hadn't heard Maggie come in. Surely the girl wouldn't have crept up past Bea's door without popping in to say she was back?

Bea hesitated. The front doorbell rang. Leon was on time, and it would be rude to keep him waiting. Bea decided to deal with Maggie later and went to open the door.

There was a good steakhouse not far away, on the main road. A trifle on the noisy side because the wood floor had been left polished and waxed, without carpet or rugs. But, the service was good, and Bea was hungry. As was Leon.

He asked, ‘Wine or beer?'

She remembered that he liked beer. She hadn't had beer for a long time. So why not? ‘Beer would be fine.'

They both declined starters and ordered steaks.

‘Well,' he said, ‘have you had time to check up on me?'

‘Some. More to come.'

His eyebrows quirked. ‘Confess: you wouldn't have bothered if I hadn't made that stupid joke about being an undischarged bankrupt.'

She smiled. He was right, of course. ‘No comment.'

‘I'm an idiot. I've been trying to work out why I lied to Benton and, well, I'm not liking myself very much. I thought I had got over it, but the rejection by my family seems to have gone deeper than I thought. I invented the first lie I could think of in order to avoid being dragged into their machinations. I'm
conflicted
. Is that the right term?'

‘You mean that, despite yourself, you share some of your sister's feeling for the family?'

He pulled a face. ‘Duty. Such a dull word.'

‘How about reinventing yourself as a white knight, riding to the rescue?'

‘Like Don Quixote, you mean? Tilting at windmills?'

She had to laugh, thinking he was excellent company. He held her gaze. His eyes were definitely hazel, with pronounced crow's feet around them. She half-smiled, feeling the pull of attraction … and then lowered her eyes to break the spell.

Her pulse was a little too fast. She had put all that side of herself to sleep when Hamilton had become ill and died. Her first husband, Piers – who was still around and who flitted in and out of her life now and again – had tried to reawaken her recently, but she'd resisted. It was uncomfortable to be reminded of sex. At her age, too!

He cleared his throat. ‘Benton tells me you're in the habit of taking in waifs and strays.'

Now how had he come by that information? Ah, Max had talked to Benton, and Benton had talked to Leon. The information corridor between the conspirators – if that is what they were – was well established, and anything she said might go back the same way.

She said, ‘Waifs and strays? In a way, I suppose. Maggie was wished upon me by her mother, who didn't want the girl hanging around at home after she'd been sucked into a disastrous marriage and then dumped. She's an ugly duckling who's turning into a swan. She housekeeps for me part-time, but has a successful career as a project manager. Oliver is at university, studying something in the realm of Higher Maths, don't ask me what. Way beyond my brain power. I would have supported him through university but he's won a bursary here and a prize there and is almost paying his own way. He helps me out at the agency in vacation time. They're both great. They call me Mother Hen.'

‘Mother Hen?' His eyelids crinkled. He liked that. ‘So they're both off your hands, really?'

‘Monetarily, yes. But they're great company and I think of them as my second family.' Except that Maggie was in trouble …

The steaks came, and they didn't talk much as they ate. The food was good and not overpriced. Satisfactory.

‘Afters?' he said.

She leaned back in her chair, replete. ‘Coffee. Decaffeinated.'

He ordered. He had the same knack as CJ of being able to summon waiters when required. ‘Have you thought any more about Dilys and what can be done to save her?'

‘Some, yes.'

‘If – and I'm just toying with the subject, you understand – Benton invited me to stay in order to have a witness when Dilys has an “accident”, then the next “accident” might prove fatal. Do you agree?'

‘I do and I don't. She's your brother's only daughter. Doesn't he have some fondness for her? Wouldn't her disappearance rebound on Benton?'

‘Not from what my sister says. Like me, Dilys was an afterthought, born when my brother was well into his fifties, and her mother went off into the blue when the child was old enough to go to a boarding school. Just like mine. The Hollands don't have a good track record in raising children. Dilys is no great brain, apparently. The family never expected her to be anything but a passenger till she married. I suppose they thought she might bring a suitable man into the business, but they don't seem to have made any effort to introduce her to suitable men. I don't think my brother cares tuppence for anyone or anything but his own comfort.'

Bea wondered if Leon himself would ever have a child, and how he would treat her if he did. He was now, presumably, at about the age that his brother had been when he sired Dilys. Had Leon ever wanted a child? Had he been too busy? Had his partner refused to have one?

She said, ‘Is the house in Dilys's name, or in his?'

He rubbed his chin. ‘I'm not sure. I assume it was a wedding present. Benton tells me he handles all the finances because she can't be trusted to pay the utility bills on time. I know she's signed over her shares in H & B to him, and I suspect he's also had her make a will in his favour. She's a sitting duck. So tell me, Mrs A., how to get rid of him.'