The Legacy (25 page)

They each ordered full fried breakfasts. Harry went outside to phone his friend in the SF world whilst they waited for their food to arrive. He recognised that it was a bit of a long shot but he reasoned that if, as Lucy's father had suggested, Richards was ex-Army then someone should know where he was and how to contact him. Once he had a confirmed identity, he would be much better placed to work out how best to proceed. He was determined to do his best to help Lucy get to the bottom of her father's death and to hold whoever was responsible to account.

He went back in to the cafe and sat down just as breakfast was being served. It was the same girl who had served him earlier in the week. He smiled at her and then turned to Lucy, leaning across the table so that he would not be overheard. ‘My friend will send me an e-mail when he's dug around a bit,' he said to Lucy. ‘He recalls the name but can't remember the exact circumstances of Richards' departure.'

‘Well that's progress,' said Lucy excitedly. She was reassured that with Harry's help she had a much better chance of finding out why her father had been killed and of tracking down whoever was responsible. The breakfast was excellent and they chatted amicably as they ate. After several more cups of coffee, they decided to continue on their way to Ellie's house.

‘We'll go over the moor if you like,' suggested Harry. ‘The weather's closing in a bit and we're expecting snow but the views should still be worth it.'

‘I'd like that,' replied Lucy, taking his hand in hers as they walked back towards the car.

They followed the road up onto the Moor. It was overcast and raining slightly but the sun occasionally broke through the clouds and shone with a brilliance that lifted Harry's spirits. Harry stopped in the Hay Tor car park. ‘Do you want to stretch your legs? The view from the top should be impressive, even in this weather.'

‘Yes please,' replied Lucy, grabbing her coat as she got out of the car.

They crossed the road and set off up the hill.

‘Can we look at the face first?' asked Lucy. Harry had explained about Camilla's fall and lucky escape. He led the way to the foot of the face. It looked small from the car park but, standing at its foot, it was easy to see why Camilla's attacker had thought she would die if she fell off the top. The rock face was sheer. Cracks in the rock ran up and down as well as along the length of the face but they were small and offered little by way of hand or footholds.

‘It looks a hard climb,' suggested Harry.

‘Yes,' replied Lucy. ‘But not too bad if you follow the features. You can see where climbers have used chalk to help them grip,' she said, pointing out the tell tale smears of white chalk around some of the features. ‘The hardest part is probably the first ten feet or so,' she said, going close to the face.

Harry watched as she reached up and grasped the edge of a very small ledge. ‘If you can get your hands in that crack up there, where the overhang juts out,' she said, pointing with her chin, ‘then I reckon you can nail this easily enough.' As she said this, she lifted her feet off the ground, brought her knees up to her chest and placed her feet high on the rock below her hands. The soles of her feet appeared to be stuck to the flat rock face as she launched herself upwards and slightly outwards towards the crack. Harry watched mesmerised. He'd done a great deal of climbing himself but even he was surprised at how fluid and controlled her movements were. Her right hand just made it into the crack, closing round a feature out of sight to Harry. She hung there by one arm, her feet now dangling in free space. She moved her other arm up and placed her hand in the crack to give her two reasonable handholds. She then pulled herself up using her arms, letting go with one hand to reach for a higher hold. She had to do this a few more times before she was able to find a reasonable foothold. She was now about fifteen feet above the ground. ‘The rest's OK,' she said, turning to look at Harry. Harry wasn't quite sure what to say. In the space of a few minutes, Lucy had demonstrated to him beyond any doubt that she was an extremely capable climber. Harry thought about having a go himself but realised that he would be unlikely to succeed. The upper body strength required to do what Lucy had just done was significant and whilst he was clearly a great deal stronger than her, he was also a lot heavier. He suspected that he lacked the power to weight ratio that gave Lucy her advantage.

‘That was very impressive,' he said to her with genuine admiration in his voice. ‘I didn't realise you were so good.'

‘Not that good,' replied Lucy modestly, ‘but I love it. I spend every weekend I can climbing. If we have the time, it would be great to nail a few of the Tors whilst we're here.'

Harry agreed.

‘The problem now is getting down,' she said, ‘catch me if I slip.' She started to inch sideways, looking for a way down that avoided the overhang. Harry watched, keeping level with her in case she slipped. But she didn't and two minutes later, she jumped nimbly onto the grass beside him. She took Harry's hand again as he led them back to the path and on towards the top of the Tor. There were one or two other people going up the rough steps cut into the rock and they followed them up to the top.

‘Great view,' said Lucy. ‘There's some good belay points up here for a top rope on the face,' she said, ‘some of them look well used.'

‘Lots of schools use it during the week and it's packed at the weekend apparently,' said Harry. ‘That's what saved Camilla. Two instructors were up here checking the face for loose stones. They had a beginners' class the next day.'

‘Let's come during the week then,' said Lucy. ‘I don't want to have to queue to climb. I just want to turn up and do it, preferably in the sun,' she said, smiling and looking up at the sky.

They stayed at the top for a few minutes taking in the view and then started the climb down towards the car. The rock was wet and slippery, particularly where it was well worn, and they found themselves on all fours at some points. Fifteen minutes later, they were back at the car park and ordering hot drinks from a refreshments van.

‘Whoever pushed Camilla knew what he was doing,' said Lucy. ‘You said it was raining hard on the day she fell and that the visibility was poor. I'll bet the rock was even more slippery. I don't think you set off to push someone off a cliff in bad conditions unless you have at least some idea of what you're doing. There's no point killing her and then getting stuck yourself.'

‘I bet you're right,' said Harry, handing Lucy a cup of tea and a cigarette. ‘I bet our man Richards turns out to be an experienced mountaineer as well as an ex-soldier.' They continued talking whilst they drank their tea and smoked their cigarettes.

The weather was starting to clear as they got back in the car and resumed their journey to Ellie's house. Both were lost in thought. Harry was thinking about a possible future with Lucy in it. He didn't want to appear too keen in case he frightened her off but the more he found out about her, the more he realised he liked her. She was very different to the women he'd been out with in the past. Though she was clearly sensitive and caring, she was also tough and determined, a combination that Harry found particularly attractive.

Lucy was thinking along similar lines. She knew that she'd showed off on the rock face but his comments about her climbing ability in Nepal had irritated her. Though she and Isobel had laughed about it at the time, his assumption that just because they were women they would be unable to handle the Annapurna routes had annoyed her. ‘Easy girl,' she said to herself. ‘You like him but take it easy and don't scare him off.' She was aware that many men found her a threat but she wasn't prepared to pretend to be needy and pathetic when she wasn't. She wanted an equal to share her life with, not someone to fight her battles on her behalf. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was ruggedly handsome but, unlike most of the men she had been out with, he was also good fun, interesting and compassionate about wanting to make a difference.

‘We're nearly there,' said Harry, breaking her train of thought. ‘This is the village I mentioned. The pub's over there,' he said, pointing to the Ring O'Bells. ‘And this is Ellie's house,' he added as he turned into the track leading up to the house. He stopped the Range Rover outside the main door. He could hear Boot barking inside as he turned the key in the lock. Lucy followed him inside, dropping her bag on the floor and kneeling down to ruffle Boots' head.

‘What a gorgeous little dog,' she said, tickling his tummy as he rolled onto his back.

‘He likes you,' said Harry. ‘You wouldn't believe how fit he is for such a little chap. I went for a run with him yesterday and he was amazing.'

‘That's because he's a Jack Russell,' said Lucy. ‘We had one called Billy when I was growing up. They're incredible little dogs, tremendous endurance and really feisty. He looks very muscular. He must get a lot of exercise.'

‘He does,' replied Harry. ‘The girls take him out most days and they are no slouches when it comes to running. Ellie nearly killed me when we went out yesterday and she says Sarah's much fitter. I've made a mental note to myself not to jog with her.'

‘I'll go with you if you like,' said Lucy. ‘I haven't run for a few days and could do with a stretch. But don't go trying to prove how fit you are. I just want a jog.'

‘OK,' said Harry. ‘Let's go out tomorrow morning when we know what's happening to Camilla.'

‘How is she?' asked Lucy.

‘She's on the road to recovery. There's no brain damage and her breaks should mend in time. She'll be home this afternoon all being well. Ellie and Sarah have gone to collect her so she should be here in a few hours.'

‘I'm a bit nervous about meeting her what with her being an old girlfriend,' said Lucy.

‘There's no reason to be,' Harry replied. ‘It's ancient history now. She only asked me to help her because she doesn't have any immediate family, at least not that she's still in touch with. We parted friends and we were together so long that I suppose phoning me seemed the natural thing to do.'

‘I suspect you make her feel very safe,' said Lucy.

‘Possibly, but she's far safer now these two are here,' replied Harry, smiling at the two Gurkhas as they came up the stairs from the cellar. Harry introduced them to Lucy. They shook her hand. Harry made a pot of tea and they all sat at the kitchen table.

‘How was your walk last night?' Harry asked Ganesh.

‘Very interesting,' he replied. ‘It looks as if someone has been watching the house. There's a small gap in the tree line about two hundred metres up the hill. It's a good position. There's a clear view of the front door and there's virtually no chance of being seen.'

‘How did you find it?' asked Lucy.

‘It's an obvious place if you know what you're looking for. Clear line of sight to the house, no roads or tracks running nearby and enough overhead cover to keep the worst of the weather off. There were a few broken twigs and the grass had been flattened. Not much but enough.'

‘How can you be sure that it's not just a couple of kids making out?' asked Lucy.

‘Too little damage to the grass and no foot prints. Whoever's been there has made an effort to hide their tracks. It's been wet over the last few days and kids making out wouldn't have cared if they'd made a few footprints in the mud. But someone had gone to the trouble of raking over the muddy areas with a branch.'

‘Could you shoot from there?' asked Harry.

‘Yes,' replied Ganesh. ‘It would be an easy shot but I've got it covered with one of the cameras so we should get some warning if someone goes back with that in mind. There's also a badger set nearby so we might get some interesting nocturnal viewing whilst we're waiting.'

‘Did you see anything else?' asked Harry.

‘Not really,' replied Ganesh. ‘The house is actually quite well tucked away. There were a few other places that you could watch the house from but they're nearer to public footpaths and therefore not ideal if you don't want to be disturbed. I've got those and the main approach to the house covered so we should get some warning if someone tries to sneak up on us.'

‘Good work,' said Harry. His phone buzzed. He took it out and looked at the screen. It was a text from his Army friend telling him to check his e-mail. He did as he was told. The attached document took several minutes to download but when it did, it was obvious to Lucy and the Gurkhas that he didn't like what he was reading.

‘It's about your man Richards,' said Harry. ‘My friend has found out quite a lot about him. It seems he left the SAS several years ago. He was forced to resign for sleeping with his Commanding Officer's wife and the wives of two of the Sergeant Majors. Apparently he was something of a ladies' man.'

‘Go on,' encouraged Lucy.

‘He's now some sort of freelance fixer for the rich and indiscrete. He's expensive and, according to my friend, not someone to cross in a hurry. A very dangerous man apparently. He's been implicated in several murders but there has never been enough evidence to pin anything on him. It seems he gets others to do the dirty work, only getting personally involved in the hands-on stuff when he's got no choice. The physical description says he's of average height, ordinary looking and that he's in his late forties now. My friend's got a photograph he's trying to send through.'

‘This is starting to make sense,' said Lucy. ‘It sounds like this is the right man and I'll bet my Dad was one of the people who helped him fix things.'

‘The photograph's downloading now,' said Harry.

Chapter 48

Highworth had transferred the money into Briggs' account the previous night and was now watching the news whilst having a late breakfast. He'd got up early but had decided to work at home for the day. He had spent half an hour trying to get in touch with Richards, leaving several messages on his answerphone. He wasn't too worried. Richards had never let him down yet but he would be happier when he knew the girl was dead.

He took his coffee and went through to his study. He was still in the t-shirt and boxer shorts he'd slept in. He would shower and change after he'd checked the markets on his laptop. Bubble.com's share price had gone down but he was a little surprised that it hadn't dropped even further. He'd given orders to his team to start buying when the price reached 300 pence per share. They were now trading for 315. ‘A few more days,' he thought to himself, ‘and I will be well on the way to nailing this.' He realised that the company was working hard to try and persuade the City that, whilst Fairweather had been an important part of their success, they could still deliver Mymate without him. The City was not yet convinced and the price had therefore continued to drop but he would need to watch it carefully. Timing is everything and if the price started to increase because of growing confidence, then he might have to pay more than the 300 pence he had set as the target price. The trick was to know when the market was starting to turn. His problem was that once he started to buy large quantities of shares, his very action would trigger a rapid increase in their price. People watched International Valiant's dealings very closely. Its phenomenal success meant that people often copied its investment strategies in the hope of cashing in on something Highworth knew but they didn't. If he started buying an unusually large number of shares, others would no doubt sense a killing and start buying as well.

He sat back in his chair, put his feet on his desk and continued to scan the share prices. Tokifora's shares were continuing their downward trajectory. Nothing too unnerving but he was glad that he had disinvested in the company. He'd banked a very healthy profit from Tokifora but it was time to move on and he thought he had identified his next target after Bubble.com.

The company was called ‘Kendo Oil' and it specialised in innovative fracking technology. He'd been following the UK fracking debate closely. It was an interesting process and consisted of forcing high pressure water into oil pockets located deep underground. It was expensive but recent increases in the price of oil were making it more attractive. The UK Government had suspended fracking following a number of minor earthquakes that were supposedly a consequence of trials carried out in Blackpool. Not surprisingly, the major opponents were the Greens but, sensing a populist bandwagon, a number of politicians from the main parties were also voicing their concerns. The most vociferous of these was a man called Simon Copley. He was a back bench Conservative MP from a particularly affluent area that was supposedly rich in deep oil reserves. Highworth had little doubt that his objections were based more on the concerns of his Eton cronies and the possibility that their large estates might be forcibly purchased than on any real concern for the environment. But he had recently learnt something about Copley that he suspected could be used to encourage him to be far less vociferous. It transpired that Copley, who was married with three teenage children, had been seeing several rent boys. There was nothing necessarily illegal about what he was doing and other politicians had weathered storms when similar proclivities had become public knowledge but Copley had made the importance of family values and Christian morals the cornerstones of his election campaign. Highworth therefore suspected that he would go to considerable lengths to keep his ‘habit' quiet. If he could convince Copley and a few other MPs to change their minds and to major on what an opportunity fracking might present, then ‘Kendo Oil' and its major shareholders would be well placed to benefit.

‘Hello Darling, anything interesting?' asked his wife coming into his study and interrupting his reverie.

‘Maybe,' he replied, taking the fresh cup of coffee that she offered him. ‘How much do you know about fracking?' he asked her.

‘Not much more than we did last night,' she replied mischievously, pushing his feet aside and perching on the edge of his desk. She was meeting some of the friends on her Art Committee for lunch and was dressed in an immaculately fitting Chanel twinset. Her blonde hair was cut into a fashionable bob and the light blue of her clothes accentuated her eyes.

Highworth laughed. His wife looked truly stunning. She had always been attractive but whereas many of her friends were starting to show their advancing years, she was ageing beautifully. Good genetics no doubt helped but she also kept herself fit and was careful not to over indulge at the many lunches and dinners they attended. ‘With a wife like yours, who needs a mistress,' one of his closer friends often said to him. It was true, particularly as very few mistresses would be as sexually adventurous as his wife.

‘I think I've found my next target,' he said to his wife. ‘It's called Kendo Oil and it manufactures equipment for extracting oil by fracking. It's reasonably well known in the US where the technique is now commonplace but, as a UK company, it struggles to compete in the US marketplace. I think it would flourish over here if the Government gave the go ahead for fracking.'

‘And will it?' asked his wife.

‘It will shortly once I've sorted a few of its teething problems out.'

‘Well, I'd love to stay and hear all about it,' she said, leaning forward to slide one of her hands slowly up his inner thigh. Her hand stopped just below his shorts. She looked at him, turned her head on one side and raised an eyebrow as if considering what to do next.

He stared back at her, his eyes imploring her to continue.

She smiled and slid her hand inside his shorts. She could feel him getting hard as she played with him. When he was fully erect, she extracted her hand and stood up, smoothing her skirt down over her hips. ‘If I don't go now, I'll be late,' she said, leaning over to kiss the scar on his forehead.

‘You little tart!' he said, lunging forward to grab her waist. Laughing, she neatly sidestepped his arm and started to walk towards the door.

‘Plenty of time for that later darling,' she said over her shoulder. ‘Bye bye for now!'

He watched her go. She was deliberately swinging her hips as she left the room. He sighed and tried Richards again. Still no response. ‘Where the hell is he,' he said aloud. He wasn't concerned about Richards, he just hated not being able to speak to people when he wanted to. And he was just a little bit irritated that, not for the first time that week, his wife had fired him up only to leave him frustrated.