False Diamond--An Abbot Agency Mystery (27 page)

He coloured up. ‘That was nothing! But for Nicole to sleep with … That trollop! I'm well rid of her.'

‘No, you're not. You know perfectly well that your best bet is to make it up with Nicole straight away, or you risk losing everything.'

‘Make it up with her? Don't be ridiculous! After what she's done?'

Bea lowered her voice. ‘You know very well, Max, that she could have divorced you several times in the past because—'

‘Nonsense. They didn't mean anything.'

Bea let silence develop. She knew that at least one of his little flings had meant a lot to him at the time. He had a weakness for blondes. The most serious of his little ‘flings' had been with Nicole's sister. Fortunately, the girl had moved on and married into the aristocracy. Nicole didn't know about Max's lapse in that direction. Hopefully.

Max muttered, ‘You don't know what it's like, living with her. She's always finding fault, picking at her food, not particularly good in bed.'

Bea subdued a sigh. ‘She's given you a wonderful son. She's beautiful and clever with people. She understands exactly what a member of parliament's wife should say and do. She dresses the part and charms the pants off the Powers That Be. She brings you money and the backing of her influential family. She can help you climb the ladder, if you listen to her.'

‘She doesn't want me any more. Things were said. She's thrown me out.'

‘She was in shock. Didn't know what to do, or say, or think. Go back and tell her how much she means to you, that you'd do anything to make her happy. Take flowers. She'd like that. Tell her that she is the most wonderful woman in the world and you realize you're not worthy of her—'

‘Humph!'

‘—and that together you two can climb the highest mountain.'

‘She's in love with Benton!'

‘Not now he's dead and can't flatter her any more. Tell her you realize you've been neglecting her—'

‘I haven't!'

‘Suggest an expensive holiday somewhere, just the two of you. Somewhere romantic.'

He managed to take that on board. ‘And if she's pregnant by him?'

‘She won't be. Trust me, she wouldn't have risked that.'

More silence.

He said, ‘I've been making a blinking fool of myself, haven't I?'

Time to mend fences. ‘Benton promised you the world, but demanded too high a price for it. That's why you didn't actually sign up with him.'

‘No, I didn't. That's right. I was tempted, but I could clearly see the difficulties and even wondered whether what he wanted was entirely legal.' He was becoming once more the up and coming member of parliament.

She added another brick to his wall of self-esteem. ‘Nicole was taken in, as well. We mustn't forget that. Poor Nicole. She must be so distressed.'

‘You're right.' He checked his tie, smoothed back his hair. ‘I must reassure her. Everybody makes mistakes. We both did, and now we have to move on. One good thing: so few people know about it that we can deny it. Yes, that's what we'll do. Deny everything, go away on holiday, have some pictures taken of us with Pippin, hard-working family taking time off.' He got up, ready to depart.

‘Don't forget your bag.'

‘I'll forget my head next.' He went over to give Bea a somewhat damp kiss on her cheek and departed.

The shadowy figure, who'd tucked himself into a chair at the back, said, ‘Brilliant.' He clapped his hands once, twice.

‘I must have a word with Carrie about letting you in when I'm busy.'

‘I paid my way in with cakes from the bakery. I hope they kept you one.'

‘What's more, you ought to have had the tact to leave a mother and son alone when they're having, er, problems.'

‘I sat at the back and didn't interfere. Tact is my middle name.'

‘I would hazard a guess that your middle name is Gofer. You're acting as hatchet man for your brother, aren't you? Go here and do this. See if you can get Mrs Abbot to find the memory stick, and … ah, the memory stick's no good to you?'

‘Password protected, and we don't have the password.'

‘Really? Mm. Do you think Ginevra knew that? I wouldn't put it past her. Do you think she guessed what I was doing while I was upstairs at their house?'

‘I think that if she'd known about the memory stick, she'd have held on to it and demanded a king's ransom.'

‘The police have all his papers. Why don't you ask them to help you?'

‘A detective inspector is with my brother now, asking questions, getting background.'

‘Did he speak to you?'

‘I left before he arrived.'

‘So your brother has sent you back here post haste to ask me … what? He's in a great hurry to find out what Benton was up to, isn't he?' She remembered the rumours about a missing accountant. No, not a
missing
accountant, but a suicidal one plus a second-in-command's disappearing act. ‘Ah, I wonder if the hunt for the information on the memory stick is not to do with personnel. Has Benton been fiddling the books, by any chance?'

He stonewalled that. ‘We certainly need to find out what he's been up to.'

‘I'm sure the police would be only too happy to cooperate if you asked them nicely.'

‘Perhaps, but time is of the essence.'

‘Then why are you wasting time, sitting here with me? If you won't ask the police for help, why don't you ask Ginevra? I'm sure she's clever enough to sort out affairs at H & B. And now, if you don't mind, I have work to do.' Bea turned back to her computer, but the screen saver was up, and she didn't particularly want to do any more research on Ginevra Benton in front of Leon.

‘My brother really would like to meet you—'

‘Why? Has the boiler broken down? Have supplies of his favourite ice cream run out?'

He sat back in his chair, fingers drumming on his thigh. ‘I'm serious.'

‘So am I.' She swivelled round to him. ‘There is only one thing I would like from you and yours, and that is the news that Dilys is not dead, that you've found her, and that she's safe and sound.'

‘We …' A hesitation. This was like pulling teeth. ‘We have located her, and she is safe and sound.'

She stared at him, trying to work it out. ‘So it wasn't Benton who whipped her away from the hospital, but you? Yes, of course it was. Or it was you who organized it? And when Sybil rang me, asking if I knew what had happened, that was at your instigation, covering your tracks. I don't know whether to applaud or kick you where it hurts.'

He raised his hands. ‘Guilty as charged. You understand why?'

‘I see that you didn't trust me with the truth.'

‘Would you have done, in our place?'

She pulled a face. ‘Possibly not. Has Dilys been told that Benton's dead?'

‘Yes. She can hardly take it in.'

‘Did you tell her about the boys?'

‘No, not yet. She's not been well.'

‘Is Bernice back with her mother?'

‘Soon, we hope.'

‘Can you assure me, hand on heart, that what you've said is true?'

‘Yes. Don't you trust me?'

‘No further than I can throw you.' She thought about it. ‘All right, let's have a look at the boys' effects. I'm not sending anything to a charity shop till we know if Dilys would like to keep some of their things as mementoes. I'm not hoping for much as Ginevra must have gone through the lot with a fine-tooth comb but, sharp as she is, she must start making mistakes soon.'

Bea shut down her computer and cleared her desk so that they could lay everything out. The first bag contained casual clothing, underwear and nightwear, some of it still in good condition, and all beautifully clean. Dilys had looked after the boys' clothes well. ‘Nothing here that Bernice would want, is there? But we'll keep the lot till Dilys can decide what to do with it.'

The second bag was also clothing, mostly outdoor wear, trainers, school uniforms.

Leon said, ‘Sybil's getting Bernice enrolled at a small, private school nearby. It has a good reputation, and the chauffeur will take her and bring her back every day.'

Bea wondered what Dilys would make of that. Wouldn't it have been better to keep the child at her old school? Well, it was none of her business.

Third bag. School bags, wellies, football gear.

Fourth. Electronic games, mostly, but not the Wii boxes which Ginevra must have kept for resale. There were airplane kits, started but not finished; comics; a few books; masses of DVDs, separated from their boxes. Two Kindles, first generation, one with a smashed cover. Mobile phones, ancient and modern with a tangle of black USB cables for same.

‘Ah-ha!' said Bea, pouncing on a netbook. ‘I bet this was Benton's at one time. The cover's so scratched, I don't suppose it's worth anything. He would have got himself the very latest and handed the old one to the boys to play with. Batteries low. Can we recharge?'

He held up the mess of wiring. ‘Take your pick. Surely, he wouldn't have left anything important on it when he passed it on to the boys?'

‘Maybe. Maybe not. He might not have bothered to take everything off. I mean, the boys wouldn't be interested in a list of passwords, would they?'

‘Unless they could use it to override parental controls so that they could access porn on the telly?'

‘Cynic. Do you really think they would?'

‘I've no idea.'

‘We need the right cable.' She delved into the mass of wiring. Told herself patience was a virtue. Nearly threw the lot in the waste paper basket. Found the right one. ‘Ah. Eureka.' She fitted the USB cable into the socket on her computer and booted up. ‘Now what have we here? Mostly, the boys seem to have played games … emailed friends … an exchange of ruderies appropriate to boys of that age, I suppose. No, nothing there. I'll try the Recycle Bin. Mm. Give me a minute or two.'

He began to pack everything else back into the black plastic bags.

Bea concentrated. It was no good having a wild dash at this. Be methodical, Bea. Take it one icon at a time. She sat back with a sigh. ‘There does appear to be some business stuff in the Recycle Bin. I don't know whether it's any use to you or not; it's six months old.'

‘Emails to a bank, moving money around?'

‘You think that's what he's been doing? Yes, I suppose … You'll have to check it with his bank. Lloyds Bank. And yes, here's another file for Barclays. And … Oh, a bank in the Cayman Islands. Is that what you've been looking for?'

He grimaced. ‘No good without the password and account numbers.'

‘I think you'll have to ask the police to let you have … ah.' She stood up, gesturing for him to look at the screen. ‘You're looking for a list of passwords? There is a list here in an old recycled file marked Security which might fit the bill, but which password is for which account, and which for his memory stick, I cannot tell. They might be out of date, or again, they might not. That do you?'

He bent down to look. She could feel his excitement, though he was trying hard to conceal it. ‘Can we print it out?' He was humming with energy, shifting from foot to foot, shooting glances at his watch. Aching to be off, to report his success back to his boss.

She printed the list out and made him stand still long enough to check that she'd got it right. Then she unplugged the cable and handed the netbook to him. ‘Bon voyage.'

‘Yes, thanks.' He was fretting to go. ‘Have supper with me?'

She shook her head. ‘Off with you, now. When you see Dilys, tell her that I'll keep all the boys' stuff till she decides what she wants to do with it.'

He disappeared, with the speed of a conjuror's vanishing act.

Ah well. Bea cleared the rest of the boys' things away, reinstated her computer and accessed the site which had thrown up ‘Jean Benton'.

She studied the screen. No, it couldn't be the right person. Yes, the age was right, and it was coupled with the other name she'd been looking for, that of Benjamin Benton. But Ginevra – or Jean, if that was her birth name – was Benton's sister, and not his wife, so there must be some mistake.

Bea took another turn around the office. Dusk had set in. She checked that the grille was locked over the window and pulled the curtains. Considered making herself a cup of tea. Thought better of it. Went back to her computer. Started on another tack.

She found a marriage certificate which stated that Jean Marsh, spinster, aged twenty, married Benjamin Benton, bachelor, aged twenty-two in October, twelve years ago. Witnesses: George and Mabel Marsh, parents of Jean. Registry office.

There must be some mistake. She told herself that Ginevra was not the same person as Jean Benton. There must be dozens of Bentons with a similar or the same name.

Ginevra was Benton's sister.

Or so she said.

But if she was – or had been – Benton's wife, then everything Bea thought she knew about him changed.

She reached for the phone and got through to Oliver. ‘Safe journey back? No, I'm all right, not been attacked recently. Can you tell me which website I need to find out if someone has been divorced?'

‘What are you on about?'

‘Someone called Jean Marsh married Benjamin Benton twelve years ago, and I have a horrid suspicion that this is the Ginevra Benton who's been calling herself his sister, and who has moved into his house. If she divorced him before he married Dilys, fine. But if she didn't—'

‘His marriage to Dilys is no go, and Ginevra is still his wife and should inherit his house? Phew! What a turn up for the books. It's quicker if I do it. I'll ring you back in ten minutes.'

He killed the call, and Bea tried to shake her senses back into their proper place. She was so wound up, she couldn't concentrate on everyday life. She went through to the big office. They were packing up for the day, switching phones through to the emergency number, putting on coats.