False Diamond--An Abbot Agency Mystery (29 page)

‘But Adamsson's words start a slow rumble in Mr Holland's mind. The firm of H & B services his household, which is the main reason for its existence as far as he is concerned. His daughter, whom he doesn't see often, had been satisfactorily – as far as he knew – married off to Benton and had produced a reasonable quiver of children. Old Mr Holland has an acute financial brain. He hasn't been using it much in recent years, but now Adamsson's words have made him uneasy. He takes a look at the books of H & B. Shock, horror! The firm is not doing well. Dividends are way down. But, it's a piddling little firm compared to the might of Holland Holdings so … perhaps a word of warning in Benton's ear? That should do the trick. He still doesn't realize that H & B's been in trouble for yonks and that Benton's been taking increasingly desperate steps to refinance them.

‘Once roused, Mr Holland can't rest. He begins to think the unthinkable; could Adamsson be right? Is Holland Holdings really in trouble? He demands an up-to-date review of their finances. The answers he gets are not to his liking. So what does he do next? He summons reinforcements in the shape of his sister Sybil. She's a rich woman in her own right but, like him, she's not one to sit back and let herself be cheated.'

‘I have no information about her.'

‘Take it from me, she's a formidable lady. She storms over from the States, drags Leon in, and there is a family conference. Red flags pop up all over the place. Mr Holland's trusted accountant realizes the game is up and jumps. When exactly did she do the deed?'

‘Ten days ago.'

‘She took the easy way out by falling out of the sky. End of. Leaving Benton to take the ensuing flack, and the money … I wonder where the money has gone to? Beyond the first drop to the Cayman Islands, I mean.' She also wondered how Leon was getting on, tracing Benton's accounts … and how long it would take to locate the missing millions and get them returned. If, indeed, it were possible to do so.

CJ said, ‘You can't be drawn into this mess through Max, can you?'

‘I sincerely hope not.' She shuddered. ‘Yes, Benton was trying to build up the fortunes of the ailing firm of H & B by enticing me and Max on to their board of directors. And yes, Max was anxious to play at one time, but I think he's learned his lesson there. Perhaps it was a sign of desperation on Benton's part that he felt he had to rough me up and chase me around on a friend's scooter?'

‘Scooter?'

‘All right. Motorbike. And no, I don't know for sure who was on that bike, but I think I know how to find out. Trying to terrify a middle-aged woman by such tactics is a ploy born out of desperation, wouldn't you say?' She leaned back in her chair and took a sip of wine. ‘Benton wasn't as clever as he thought he was. As witness his being taken in by the Joker. Leon Holland to you.'

‘Ah. You do think he's taking a hand in the game, then?'

‘I do. Let's look at the facts. Long-estranged younger brother. Financially sound through his own efforts in other directions. Currently at a loose end. The Hollands' solution was to bring him in as trouble spotter and hatchet man. Leon – out of curiosity, perhaps – does exactly what they want him to do. I think he identified Benton as the main conspirator straight away, which explains why he infiltrates Benton's household pretending to be an undischarged bankrupt. He observes what's going on there, he listens to everything, he sits in on meetings, he saves Dilys's life and he makes up to me as a possible saviour for H & B.'

‘Did he kill Benton?'

‘He's ruthless enough, but I can't see him killing the two boys.'

‘Did Benton commit suicide because he'd been found out and was about to be prosecuted?'

Silence. Then, ‘It feels wrong. It doesn't
feel
as if it's to do with money, but … No, I know that's no sort of answer. It depends on my instinct, and you are about to say that instinct is not evidence.'

‘Agreed, but personally I value your instincts. Tell me what you suspect.'

‘About Benton's death? I really have no idea. Well, I do have a vague thought wandering about at the back of my mind, but nothing coherent as yet. About Leon? He's a wolf in sheep's clothing. He got me to find Benton's missing memory stick, and then to find the password for it. The information on it will probably give him enough clues to trace where some of the money has gone. How much is missing?'

‘Estimates vary from ten million to ten billion.'

That amused her. ‘There
is
a difference. But even if it's only one million that's missing – hark at me saying
only
one million! – it's more than enough in my estimation. It's worth taking a risk or two.'

‘Worth killing Benton for?'

She frowned. ‘I'm struggling with that.'

‘Coffee? No? Then I'll walk you home. Guard you from attack by bikers.'

Was he trying to make another joke? Possibly. She smiled her appreciation and thanked him. She was aware he would like to be invited in for a late night snifter of brandy, or whatever, and she didn't really want to do so. He was a very old friend, but lately he was sending her signals that he would like to take matters further, which she did not want to do. How to turn him down without offending him?

Perhaps the biker would magically appear on her doorstep? But it wasn't a biker who awaited her on her return.

Bea heard a plaintive wailing as they turned into her road and identified it with the antennae of a grandmother. ‘That's Pippin, my grandson. What on earth …?'

It was indeed Pippin, struggling in his mother's arms, unhappy about being roused from sleep and taken out into the cold night. Nicole was muffled in a huge fake fur coat and Russian style hat. She was crying.

CJ stopped short. ‘What's your daughter-in-law doing out with the boy at this time of night?'

‘You may well ask,' said Bea, thinking grimly that she could probably guess. ‘Come in, Nicole. Give me Pippin. There, there, little one. Thanks for the meal, CJ. It was good of you to spare the time, but I must just … Where's my key? And I'll turn off the alarm. Don't just stand there, Nicole. Come on in.'

Nicole was a wreck. Eye make-up smeared, hair coming down, one glove on and one nowhere to be seen. Pippin was smelly and upset. He knew her, all right, but he was uncomfortable in his wet nappy and had been crying for so long that he'd got into the rhythm of it, and it was going to take him time to calm down.

Bea kicked the front door to behind her, only to have it rebound. She didn't bother to look round, but said, ‘You? Out!' The door closed quietly behind her. She could only hope the man who'd been lurking in the shadows was on the other side of it, but for now all her attention was on Pippin. She took him through to the kitchen, divested him of his outer clothing and changed his nappy. Before she'd even shed her own coat she made up a bottle of milk for him. He didn't always have a bottle at bedtime nowadays, but once he was warm, dry and fed, he'd probably drop off to sleep.

Nicole was going to need more attention than that, but a cup of coffee might help for a start. ‘Take your coat off, my dear. Would you like to tidy up? You know where the bathroom is.'

‘I'm all right.' Quite clearly she was not all right, but until Pippin had been attended to, Bea could do no more. Once the bottle had been popped into the toddler's mouth, he gulped, sneezed, and got on with it. Bea took him into the living room and propped him up in a corner of the big chair with his bottle. He was old enough to hold the bottle for himself, and did so. He settled down, then, and even managed a pearly-toothed smile. In a minute he would need burping, but so far, so good.

Bea relaxed for a moment. One problem down. Three to go? She braced herself for battle. ‘Well, now, Nicole. Of course I'm delighted to see you at any time, you know that. But isn't it a bit late for Pippin to be out?'

The girl sank into another chair, still wearing her outer things. ‘He –' sob – ‘threw me out!'

‘What!'

‘Well, I threw him out first, and then he came back and said he was sorry, and then we argued and he threw me out instead. Tell him that it's him that's got to go, not me! I know my rights!'

Several responses jostled for attention in Bea's head. Nicole must know that in the case of a marital disagreement, she only had to ring the police to eject the offending partner. So why …? Ah, she hadn't wanted to ring the police because … because that would have made the tabloids with headlines such as “MP and wife in night-time tussle”? So it was still important to her to be an MP's wife?

Did she really want Bea to tell Max to leave the marital home? Oh, surely not. Which meant that Nicole was not willing to throw her marriage away.

The girl wailed, ‘I loved him!'

‘What?' Bea blinked. Then realized Nicole was not referring to her husband. ‘You mean Benton?'

‘Who else?' Another deep sob. ‘I was going to leave Max and we were going to live on a desert island in the sun, and my parents wouldn't have minded because they'd have seen that Benton was miles better for me than Max, and Benton promised to take Pippin as his own, and his boys could go to boarding school and everything would have been perfect!'

Oh dear. Confirming Bea's worst suspicions. A desert island in the sun, indeed! How could Nicole have been so stupid? ‘And how was he going to fund that lifestyle, pray?'

‘You know I don't understand such things. Something to do with insider trading, I think.'

‘Insider trading breaks the law.'

‘Oh, I did tell him not to be so naughty, but he didn't listen to little old me.' Coyly. Pretending she was too much of a bimbo to understand such things. She sought for a hankie and didn't find one. Bea checked the Pippin was all right to be left for a moment and collected a box of tissues from the kitchen. ‘Here. Could you do with a stiff drink?'

‘No, no. Not when I'm …' She gestured to her stomach.

Bea sat down with a bump. ‘You're pregnant? Whose is it?'

‘Everything's such a mess. I didn't realize till yesterday, and all I was worried about was how Benton would take it, but I needn't have got so upset, need I? Oh, it's Max's, not that he cares. All he cares about is money and his career.'

‘Now that's not true, Nicole. He cares deeply about you and Pippin.'

The girl wept. ‘You don't understand. I'd have done anything for Benton. He loved me so much. I'll never meet anyone else like him.'

‘I should hope not,' said Bea. ‘He says that to all the girls, you know.'

‘No, no. Only to me. His wife is a dreary little thing. He never cared for her, but she got herself pregnant by someone else in the office and begged Benton to marry her. She promised he'd be made managing director of the firm and—'

‘You're overlooking the fact that it was he who was the father of her child. Of her three children, in fact.'

‘Well, men have needs.'

Bea wanted to smack the girl, but refrained. With an effort. So Nicole was having another child. ‘Does Max know you're pregnant?'

Sniff. ‘Yes, I did tell him, and he said he couldn't be responsible for another man's brat. He thought it was Benton's, of course, and I did wish it was, too … at least, I would have done if Benton hadn't been killed. Oh, what am I going to do?'

‘Face the fact that you're just one in a long line of women that Benton has lied to.'

‘How dare you!' Yet her tone lacked heat. Whatever she said to the contrary, Nicole had known, deep down, what Benton was like. ‘He loved me.'

‘Be grateful that you're alive to say so. His partner in crime at work committed suicide, and he's put his wife into intensive care.'

‘Lies. All lies.'

‘Fact the facts, Nicole. He's dead, and you're alive. So what are you going to do with the rest of your life? Do you really want me to ask Max – the father of your children – to leave the flat so that you can live there by yourself? If you divorce him, you'd get alimony, but you know exactly how much money there is in the kitty, and that flat is expensive. I doubt if you'll be able to enjoy the same standard of living as you did when Max was beside you. Do you have any skills that you could use if you have to take a job? I remember how hard I found it when I divorced Max's father and had to go out to work to keep us. I'd married straight from school so hadn't had the benefit of any further education. I had to take anything I could get. Cleaning jobs, mostly. Not a happy time. And a divorced woman is such a drag on the marriage market, don't you think? Her social circle contracts, and friends take sides. I suppose your parents would be supportive enough, but going home to live with parents is such a confession of failure, isn't it? Not the same as being the wife of a rising young member of parliament. Not so many opportunities to wear evening dress.'

‘I don't care about such things.' But she did, oh yes, she did. ‘Benton was the love of my life.'

‘The love of a number of women's lives, as far as I can make out. What do you know about his sister?'

‘It was she who rang me early this morning, to say he was dead. She was horrid to me.'

Pippin let the bottle slide out of his mouth and start to mewl. Bea picked him up, put him over her shoulder and patted his back to bring his wind up. ‘Ginevra was jealous of the attention he paid you, I expect. Oh, and by the way, she's his wife not his sister.'

‘What nonsense!' Nicole didn't want to believe that. ‘She said it wasn't clear whether or not he'd committed suicide. I don't care if he
was
caught fiddling the books, because he was only doing it so that we could marry. If he'd told me, I'd have stood by him.'

Bea doubted that. Nicole was a practical person when she wasn't indulging in a false dream of romance. A cream puff of a romance. A poisoned cream puff.