Underbelly (17 page)

“
How about being a silent partner?” Delgado said quietly, angry with him for talking so loudly about their plan outside the house.

Delgado noticed the curtains twitching in an upstairs room as Grey kept knocking. It took five minutes for a young man in his 20s to answer, attired entirely in white, looking as if he was about to play tennis, and he looked at them curiously.

“
May I help you?” he said in a very refined English accent.

“
I hope so,” Grey said, extending his hand and shaking the bewildered stranger’s hand repeatedly. “My associates and I have come a long way to discuss a business venture which we feel would suit Mr Winston perfectly. May we come inside?”

“
Who are you?”

“
I’m James Grey of the Iowan Greys – I believe he will have heard of my family, we’re in the textiles industry.”

“
What brings you here?” the stranger said, remaining polite yet clearly wanting rid of them.

“
Opportunity. I don’t want to say too much, I’d rather talk to Mr Winston of how we intend to diversify. What’s your name please?”

“
I’ll go and find out if Mr Winston will see you. He is a very ill man. Wait here, please,” he said shutting the door. Otilio opened his mouth, about to say something until both Grey and Delgado shook their heads, frowning at him.

After twenty minutes the same man returned and said, “He’ll see you but you can’t stay for long.”

“
If he can give us a couple of minutes that’s all we ask,” Grey said, playing the part of a double-speaking salesman (badly, he felt). The man ushered them into the spacious sitting room where Cecil Winston sat, as frail and wizened as Conrad and Thomas had made out. His eyes twinkled, his exterior benign and disarming. His rich grey suit hung loose on him, flared in the trousers, and his bright white hair contrasted with his tanned, leathery skin.

“
Have a seat, Mr Grey, you and your friends,” he said, gesturing for them to come closer. They all sat down on the same hardback sofa, away from Winston, who talked exclusively to Grey as he asked him to present his proposal. Grey was glad Delgado had made him practice on him till he was word perfect, as it was a lot harder when it mattered. As he gave his pitch Winston called a servant into the room, a stunning Hispanic looking girl wearing a skimpy maid’s outfit who asked them what they wanted to drink. Grey heard her ask the others and refused anything, pre-empting the question before she asked him. Otilio was attracted to her and asked her what she had before Delgado answered for him, telling the skittish girl that they were all fine as they were, thanking her for offering.

Winston considered the proposal and gave Grey some practical advice that would probably benefit Conrad’s idea of land development. Winston had a kind countenance and just from talking to him Grey sensed that he was a tough character. His gaze was intense and he seemed shrewd enough to see through artifice and Grey had to be very quick thinking to keep his story together as he faced a cross-examination without Conrad present to help him. He just about held it together, but he’d learned nothing, and tried to think how to move the conversation on to discover more.

After Winston was finished advising him, warning him that he’d need considerable capital that he wouldn’t recoup for a long time, he asked him where he’d heard that he was the man to contact.

“
I’ve heard that you help entrepreneurs.”

“
Very rarely, Mr Grey, I get out very little now. Who was your contact?”

“
Conrad Overton,” Grey said, using the opportunity to bring up the subject he wanted to talk about. Delgado internally erupted, managing to control himself from shouting at Grey somehow. Winston gave Grey what he was after, a reaction. His face reddened and he had a coughing fit and rang a bell and the young man and the maid rushed to him to see what was wrong.

“
I don’t think I can help you with your idea,” Winston said, struggling to his feet and leaving the room, turning just to say, “Conrad will see you out.”

Grey and Delgado looked at ‘Conrad’, studying him (Otilio studied the maid, who followed Winston out of the room), which clearly made him uncomfortable. “You heard him. Out!” he ordered, raising his voice. They got to their feet and left the premises, Delgado taking the wheel and speeding away. His anger at Grey dissipated, as it seemed that his question might have proven something useful, which they tried to get their heads around.

“
He only said Conrad. Why can’t there be two Conrad’s?” Otilio pointed out, feeling that nothing had been proven.

“
He reacted strangely. The way he said ‘Conrad will see you out’ – that was his way of saying ‘ I know you’re a liar’,” Grey said, trying to get in contact with Conrad.

“
Here’s a theory. This Conrad Overton is a public figure; he’s probably featured in the gossip columns or somewhere in the press. Maybe the spirit you’re getting wishes it was Conrad,” Delgado said, trying to think of a logical solution.

“
Even if that was true there’s still Thomas Hepworth, who also died there,” Grey said.

They had a pub lunch, after which Delgado and Otilio had a drive around to see more of the town, leaving Grey back at their motel to think about what he wanted to do next. He strained hard for Conrad, giving himself a headache before finally getting through to him.

I thought I’d lost you there
, Grey said, relieved to resume contact.

You and me both. What’s the state of play?

I did what we said only when I brought up your name there was a man there who he said was you.

Well he’s lying, isn’t he?

I’m going to look into the police proceedings and newspaper reports about your death – I think it will be hard to prove but I’ll work at getting justice for you until my dying breath, I swear.

Tell me everything that happened.

Grey went into details, recalling everything that was said and then at Conrad’s request he described his impostor. His description of his appearance (brown-haired young man of above average height and build) could have applied to millions, including Grey, but Grey remembered that his left ear appeared deformed, which he pointed out.

He’s got someone who looks like me; I’ll give him credit for that. My left ear is slightly misshapen from an old college football injury, but nothing major. I was a pilot in the war for fuck’s sake; my hearing’s as good as the next man’s.
Quite why he was getting irate he didn’t even know himself.

If it was just an impostor, and I really knew you, then I would have known it was an impostor.

What are you saying?

He knew that I didn’t really know you – don’t get me wrong, we do know each other, but I don’t know what you look like and he knew that. Sorry, Conrad, I tend to speak in riddles. What I mean is I think that it could be you, your body at least.

You’re still talking in riddles.

Maybe the reason you can’t remember your death is because you never died. Your mind left your body.

And that’s not death?

It should be, but your body is in use – I’m only guessing here. Bear with me.

Conrad found it exceedingly hard to be patient yet had little choice. Late in the afternoon Delgado drove back to the motel and left the car running as he went in to see Grey. “Come with us,” he said to Grey.

Grey grabbed his coat without question, only asking them where they were going when they were already in motion.

“
Never underestimate what can be learned in drinking houses,” Otilio said jovially. He and Delgado had struck up a conversation with an eccentric man who stockpiled and sorted every newspaper he had ever bought. They had already looked through his collection and found a picture of Conrad Overton which they wanted to take to Grey, only for Jasper to turn jittery at the thought of any of his collection leaving the house. By the time they returned with Grey to his small, cluttered flat, he had put three newspapers to one side, pointing out with pride the value of such a collection (not monetary value, rather the value of collating information) and turning each to the right page. There was a picture of Conrad in his air force uniform (the small feature was about his safe return), another of him stepping out with a voluptuous blonde at a charity event upon his return and the third was of his father, the great Clifford Overton, praised for his contributions to the war effort. Grey saw what Delgado and Otilio had discovered – the man at the manor was the same man as in the two pictures of Conrad Overton. Grey thanked Jasper and they left, Grey even more certain that his theory was right. He shared his gut feeling with Delgado and Otilio who were both unresponsive – it was hard for them to know what to say of such a claim. Delgado asked him what he wanted to do, as if there had been no murders and instead some form of possession, there was nothing that he and Otilio could do, the solution, if there was one, resting solely with Grey. Grey wanted to be absolutely certain that the person he was talking to was Conrad Overton and decided to go to Los Angeles to see the person captured in the third picture Jasper showed them. In the picture Clifford Overton smiled broadly but it was the smile of a man who devoured his enemies; even Conrad forewarned him that he faced no picnic.

Clifford Overton was a difficult man to make an appointment with, a millionaire with many commitments and little patience, and it was only by telling his secretary that it was a matter of vital importance concerning his eldest son that he was able to enter his office in his multi-storey headquarters for a ten minute discussion.

Before Grey had a chance to speak Mr Overton boomed from behind his desk, “What are you then, a damned debt collector?” He had grown a short beard since the picture had been taken, greying like his hair, and Grey didn’t even receive a predator’s smile. Overton’s look of pure contempt made Grey realise he had to get his attention fast before he was thrown out.

“
No, nothing like that. I’m here because I’m concerned about Conrad. Have you noticed any changes in him of late?”

As Grey did not seem to be after money (though Overton stayed wary, this not proven absolutely) Overton became a little more civil and answered the question. “Blasted boy never visits his mother anymore. I’m a busy man, I can live with just seeing him at family get-togethers, but the wife used to spoil the boy and have lunch with him twice a week. He never contacts her now. He’s been to see me to ask for money and he was strange. Conrad and I argue, but he can be good company too, but not anymore, and that’s why I don’t care that we don’t go to the track or the club anymore. The boy…is there something wrong with him, is that why you’re here?” Mr Overton said, concerned about him.

“
I think so. I think it’s treatable,” Grey said optimistically.

“
Spit it out then.”

“
I can’t. Doctor patient confidentiality prohibits me from doing so.”

“
If my son is ill he’ll get the finest doctor in the land. Now tell me what’s wrong with him,” Overton commanded.

“
I’m not his doctor, his doctor’s with him now and he just wanted me to ask a few questions of you which might help with his treatment. Conrad has complained of feeling very distant and removed. Is that how you’ve found him?”

“
So this is medical? I shouted at him not to come back until he changed his attitude. Tell him he can come back and see me,” Overton said, not going so far as to offer an apology.

“
Has his behaviour seemed particularly abnormal?”

“
His behaviour’s been utterly normal. For Conrad that isn’t normal. I suppose you know about the girls and the operations.”

“
Yes,” Grey lied, feeling this was something that he and Conrad would have to discuss later.