Pix (Volume Book 24) (Harpur & Iles Mysteries) (11 page)

BOOK: Pix (Volume Book 24) (Harpur & Iles Mysteries)
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‘Yes, Sybil and his marriage are the good, the grand, past,' Iles said. ‘A spotless staircase is the past. Manse has a fierce need to convince Sybil that everything in the rectory is lovely because everything in the rectory
was
lovely in that past – its religious heritage, its art, its other-age furniture of solid mahogany, not veneer. What possibly infringes on that pleasant, indeed, elegant past, Harpur?'

‘Well, I'd say –'

‘Absolutely, Col – the continuation of Hilaire Wilfrid Chandor. Manse would see it as feeble to let that continuation . . . to let that continuation continue. Manse is one to face up. He can be strict with himself. Perhaps he wants Sybil back, and perhaps he doesn't. He's still entertaining those three, isn't he – Carmel, Lowri, Patricia – as and when, and never a plural, in his prim, economizing way? But he'll feel the humiliation of his ruined drawing-room conference with Syb – you and I disrupting like that in our autocratic style, and involving the decorator, because we'd learned somehow about Chandor's disrespect to the rectory and art and wanted a glimpse.'

‘Yes, somehow.'

‘Manse is a lad who craves dignity,' Iles said. ‘That dignity has been damaged. He knows it might be damaged again. He'll act.'

‘In what sense, sir?'

‘Manse is not one to capitulate. So, Chandor has to go, hasn't he, Col?'

Harpur took a while with this. ‘Manse will kill him?' he replied. ‘Try to kill him?'

‘Inevitable.'

‘This is one theory.'

‘Yes, it's
my
theory, Harpur.'

‘Many people would wonder whether it was
only
theory, sir.'

‘Which?'

‘Which what?'

‘Which people would wonder?'

‘Many.'

‘But many are not going to be fucking told, are they, Col?' Iles replied.

‘It's quite a time since Manse had to handle a . . . what I mean is, Denzil Lake's gone, Alfie Ivis is gone. Shale's solo.'

‘Think of that next child swap at Severalponds, Col,' Iles said. ‘When Syb and Manse meet, what are their feelings? They look at each other and there is appalling shared
shame at that aborted intimacy beneath Hughes. That is, shame unless –'

‘You believe he'd tell her, “Oh, it's OK now, Sybil, we can re-romance utterly unjinxed in the drawing room next time because I've done Hilaire Wilfrid Chandor”?'

‘He wouldn't have to say it, Harpur. It would be in his eyes, in his bearing, in his voice, although his voice would, on the face of it, be doing no more than ordering filled baguettes and Fantas at the service station. This would be the voice of a man who has come through.'

‘Come through where?'

‘It's a quotation, for God's sake. He has
won
through. He has triumphed. She would read it.'

‘Read the quotation?'

‘Read it in Manse's person,' Iles said.

‘She's never heard of Hilaire Wilfrid Chandor. Or she might have heard of him if he's been killed and it makes the papers. But she'd see no link with Mansel and the rectory.'

‘Jerk, she doesn't have to link it. What she has to know and feel through all her Being is that Manse is Manse again and has rid himself of a persecutor, a
cauchemar
. She will sense it and glory in it. He
knows
she will sense it and glory in it.
Cauchemar
is French for nightmare, Col.'

‘They're probably worse in French.' Through the sitting-room window, Harpur watched Hazel and Jill come up the front path to the house. They let themselves in and soon appeared at the door of the sitting room together.

Iles smiled and said: ‘Oh, hello, both.'

Harpur could see Hazel hated this – the gross equality of the greeting in ‘both', the deadness of the word, the lack of particularity and throaty gasp aimed at her as her, not as one of an offspring pair. And the ‘Oh'. So casual. Not Iles's previous ‘Ah!' when he saw Hazel, a cry straight from the instant, uncontrollable burn in his entrails. Harpur would have liked to write a confidential, secretly passed note to Iles, ‘Congratulations, ACC (Ops), you have come through!'

The girls moved into the room and sat down. ‘We've been asking around, as a matter of fact,' Jill said.

‘That right?' Iles replied.

‘About Meryl's partner,' Jill said.

‘This is the woman who brought the photographs of her boyfriend?' Iles said.

‘From London,' Jill said. ‘Meryl Goss.'

‘Asking around where?' Harpur asked.

‘You know, generally,' Jill said.

‘Your friends?' Harpur said.

‘Generally,' Jill said.

‘Your select friends down at the bus station caff and so on?' Harpur said.

‘Generally,' Jill said. ‘Have you been able to do anything, Mr Iles?'

‘It's a tricky one,' Iles said. ‘This partner – an adult, he's entitled to roam where he likes. He doesn't have to tell anyone. His name's gone into the missing person machinery, but it's . . . it's a tricky one.' He poured Harpur and himself more Chiroubles and drank most of his glassful. ‘But, look, Col, we've got burgundy, they've got nothing.'

‘Cokes in the fridge,' Harpur said.

‘I'll get them,' Iles replied. He went to the kitchen.

‘Meryl's really scared,' Hazel said, ‘like she suspects something.'

‘Well, why she's come so far,' Jill said.

‘He told her property development,' Hazel said.

‘I heard “property development” is often just a code for something else,' Jill said.

‘Heard where?' Harpur asked. ‘Down the bus station caff?'

Iles came back. He'd opened the bottles. When he handed them to the girls Harpur saw no special antics for Hazel, no finger meshing or idolatry. Wonderful. She looked more chilled than the Coke.

‘You know the old Woody Allen film that comes on the Film Channel?' Jill said.

‘I don't mind them,' Iles replied.

‘
Broadway Danny Rose
,' Jill said. ‘Danny's at a party with
some crooks but doesn't realize until one of them says his business is cement. Then Danny cottons. In the US everyone knows cement's often a cloak for villainy. Here, maybe it's not cement but property.'

‘Probably you don't need us to tell you all this,' Hazel said.

‘What?' Iles replied.

‘Masks – these mask businesses, like fronts for something else,' Jill said. ‘With Chandor, for the drugs trade.'

‘There's that other film,' Hazel said. ‘
The Firm
. It pretends to be a lawyers' office but they're the Mafia, with Tom Cruise.'

‘This film says lawyers and the Mafia are different?' Iles asked.

‘Hilaire Wilfrid Chandor,' Jill said. ‘That's the name the buzz comes up with. He's Property, or supposed to be.'

‘Which buzz?' Harpur said. ‘Insights from skateboarders and junkies down the bus station?'

‘Some people deal with him, buy from him or his team – and not property,' Jill said. ‘He's like starting up as a street firm, trying to.'

‘Which people?' Harpur said.

‘People,' Jill said.

‘People down the bus station caff?' Harpur said.

‘Property is what they call theirselves, but really it's the other stuff,' Jill said.

‘
Them
selves,' Harpur said.

‘And then the computer,' Hazel said. ‘I mean, you know his name – Graham Trove from London. You could see if he's on it.'

‘Nothing,' Harpur said.

‘But you did try,' Jill said.

‘Routine,' Harpur said.

‘It shows you're worried,' Jill said.

‘Routine,' Harpur said. ‘Gossip around the bus station from pushers etcetera isn't what we'd call real information.'

‘You know all the stuff we've heard and something extra, do you, Mr Iles?' Jill said.

‘This is a very early stage,' Harpur replied.

‘Of what?' Hazel said.

‘A very early stage,' Harpur said. But does the buzz tell you Chandor took on someone new lately, with a London background possibly like his own? Harpur could not actually ask this, though, because he'd just dismissed bus station gossip and needed to keep it well dismissed for now.

‘He's going to be big,' Jill said.

‘Who?' Harpur said.

‘Hilaire Wilfrid Chandor,' Jill said.

‘Who says?' Harpur replied.

‘This is the word around,' Jill said.

‘Ah, not “the buzz”, but “the word around”.'

‘He's moving in on one of the princes,' Hazel said. ‘That's what we hear.'

‘Princes of what?' Harpur said.

‘The substances trade,' Jill said. ‘So, it's either Mansel Shale or Ralphy Ember. Has to be. The ones Mr Iles uses to keep things peaceful.'

‘All the world wants peace,' Iles said. ‘I think of the United Nations.'

‘I don't know which,' Jill said.

‘Which what?' Harpur replied.

‘Which one Chandor will try to push out,' Jill said.

‘Doesn't the buzz say?' Harpur asked.

‘I'd think Manse Shale,' Hazel said. ‘Ralph Ember's got that club and the money from there on top of everything else. He's too strong. Letters in the paper about the environment. Ralph W. Ember has civic status.'

‘And Manse Shale is single parenting,' Jill said. ‘Difficult.'

‘Your dad's an expert,' Iles said.

‘But Manse Shale picks girls to live in and maybe help,' Hazel said. ‘Like a rota. Most have heard about this.'

‘Well, I suppose your dad has that kind of help, too,' Iles said.

‘No, Mansel Shale's arrangement is not the same as dad's,' Jill said. She grew a bit agitated. ‘All right, he's got
Denise from the uni, and she's here sometimes and sleeps over and does terrific breakfasts – fried bread, black pudding, everything – but she's the only one. Isn't she the only one you're interested in now, dad?' Both Harpur's daughters could be tough on morals – his. They feared everyone born in or near the liberated 1960s slept around by nature.

‘You mustn't fret, Jill,' Iles said. ‘I'm sure he's devoted to Denise, his sweet and loving local undergrad.'

Now and then, unpredictably, Iles could be helpful, considerate even.

‘Denise is busy this time of the year working for exams,' Jill replied. ‘So she stays at her Jonson Court room in the student residences, which is Jonson without an h, being named after
Ben
Jonson, who wrote many plays, and not
Samuel
Johnson, who did the first dictionary, and is
with
an h. She told me that. We like her.'

‘Your dad's lucky,' Iles said.

‘Well, he does need someone,' Jill said. ‘Some
one
. She is the only one, isn't she, dad? She'll be missing just a few weeks. Denise is nineteen and very pretty but she doesn't mind dad's age or clothes or music, honestly. She knows French poetry and all sorts. We take them early morning cups of tea in bed, but then Denise gets up and does the terrific breakfasts with fried bread and –'

‘The point is, this is the way of things in business,' Hazel said.

‘Which?' Harpur said.

‘We did it in Economics in school,' Hazel said.

‘What?' Harpur replied.

‘A business has to move forward all the time or it will get hit by something new and up-coming,' Hazel said. ‘It can't rest. Known as “company stagnation”. Remember how Rover and MG went under.'

‘They say Shale and Ember are worried,' Jill said.

‘Who does?' Harpur replied.

‘This is the word around,' Jill said. ‘And something funny at Shale's house.'

‘The rectory?' Iles said.

‘One girl I know – her dad's a locksmith. He had to change every lock, inside doors as well as out. He shouldn't of told her this, but he did because he was a bit puzzled, or even shocked. Marks of a break-in at a window. And a mess at the top of the stairs.'

‘Shouldn't
have
told her,' Harpur said. ‘Some think a locksmith should be like a priest or a solicitor – everything confidential.'

‘Yes, well, she
is
his daughter, ‘Jill said. ‘It's like private.'

‘But she told
you
,' Harpur said.

‘Yes, well, I'm her friend,' Jill said.

‘And you told
us
,' Harpur said.

‘You knew it all already, did you, dad?' Hazel replied. ‘Has your informant been spouting?'

‘I don't think we had any break-in reported from the rectory, did we, Col?' Iles asked.

‘A mess?' Harpur said.

‘Supposed to be he spilled some sauce,' Jill said.

‘Spilled sauce can be a grave trouble,' Iles replied. ‘Stains not easy to get out.'

‘You do know all this already, don't you?' Hazel said.

Harpur said: ‘When you were asking around did –'

‘Did Meryl Goss come with us?' Jill said.

‘Did Meryl Goss go with you down to the bus station and so on?' Harpur said.

‘She gave us her address and mobile number in case we heard something,' Hazel said. ‘She's staying at a Bed and Breakfast in Quith Place.'

‘Yes. We'll have those at headquarters since she reported Trove missing,' Harpur said. ‘Did she go with you?'

‘We thought it was a good idea,' Jill said.

‘She went with you?' Harpur replied.

‘To give her something to do, not fret and that on her own in a Bed and Breakfast,' Jill said.

‘And she heard the buzz?' Harpur said. ‘The odd suggestions about Property not being Property, and the Chandor name?'

‘That's all she's got, isn't it, the buzz?' Hazel said. ‘Nothing else is happening. Nobody is told anything.'

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