False Money (33 page)

‘No, no,' said Jamie. He was smiling, but uneasy, gulping champagne. ‘Of course not. I didn't, did I, Claire?'

Hermia gave him an old-fashioned look. ‘You never could keep a still tongue in your head when you've had too much to drink.'

Claire's colour had risen. ‘He never said anything.'

Gregor said, ‘Wait a minute. Claire; Jamie told me afterwards that you stayed the night with him.'

Claire gave a light laugh. ‘What if I did? Someone had to look after him, and anyway, he was the perfect gentleman.'

‘Most ungallant of me. Sorry.' Jamie grimaced. ‘Too drunk to remember.'

‘I believe,' said Bea, ‘that Claire found out, either on that night or soon after, that Jamie was coming into money, and that through the deaths of two of his friends the amount had been greatly increased. She wanted some of that money. She also fancied a title. How could she get it? The easiest way was to get Jamie to fall in love with her. He looked easy, but Jamie was no pushover. He'd had girls throw themselves at him for years, without causing a ripple in his mind. For years he'd had a platonic relationship with Hermia, who gave him her company when required. He knew that some day soon he ought to think about marriage and siring an heir, but thus far he hadn't done anything about it. So there was little Claire, billing and cooing at him. Sweetly pretty, but no money and no background. A splendid companion for the odd tumble in bed, but was that enough? Well, there was no need for him to commit himself yet, was there?

‘And then there was Tomi. Tomi was beautiful, inside and out. The group had accepted her into their midst. She also owned a share in the lottery money. Harry had given Tomi his old laptop and, before the batteries died, she was in the habit of emailing her parents and friends with news of what she'd been doing. She told them about Harry, who had introduced her to some new friends, and she told them about being taken to a big society event, at which I believe she acquitted herself well. Isn't that so, Hermia?'

‘Why, yes; Jamie brought her to a ball at the Dorchester. She was lovely. Everyone liked her. I thought Jamie could do a lot worse than marry her. She was still going out occasionally with Harry, but she wasn't serious about him, or anyone. I urged Jamie to win her, if he could.'

Bea focused on Jamie. ‘Were you still seeing Claire while you went out with Tomi?'

He fingered his chin. ‘There was no harm in it, was there? Claire and I had an understanding.'

‘You mean, sex. You weren't going to take her to these big society functions though, were you? You'd taken Tomi once, she'd fitted right in, so you intended to take her again. You told Claire so, didn't you?'

‘Well, in a roundabout way, I suppose; yes. But—'

‘What did you think when Tomi disappeared?'

He grimaced. ‘I was annoyed. I'd already bought the tickets for the dance when Harry told us she'd gone off to France with a new man. What was I supposed to think? If she could be that fickle, why should I bother my head about her?'

‘So you took Claire to the dance instead?'

‘Why not?'

‘When it came out that Tomi had died, what did you think?'

‘I was sorry.' He moved his shoulders restlessly. ‘She was a bit of all right.'

‘Your finances improved with her death, and of course you had Claire to fall back on.'

He flushed. ‘You're making me out to be one self-centred hombre.'

‘You were looking out for number one.'

‘I was shocked by Tomi's death. And then to find out that Harry had done her in, well, it took a bit of getting used to. As for Nick –' he shook his head – ‘he played a good game of golf, and I'll miss him something chronic. So many deaths! It was hard to carry on, day by day. I tell you, I was on the verge of taking a long holiday away from England, away from it all . . . except, of course, that the finances wouldn't allow it. Replacing the roof of the old place nearly ruined me, and if it hadn't been for Hermia, I'd have been deep in the doodahs.'

‘And there was Claire, ready to sympathize and to give you what you needed.'

‘Just so.' He took another gulp of champagne and looked at his watch. ‘Shouldn't we be going?'

‘
Everything
that you needed? How soon did you notice that being with her meant you got richer, and richer, and richer?'

‘That's . . . offensive.' He laughed, as if at a joke, and yet there was something akin to panic in his eyes. He knew what Bea was getting at. ‘Oh, come on. You don't really mean—'

‘How soon did you promise her marriage?'

‘I . . . You are making out that I—?'

‘At some point you worked it out, didn't you? I expect you found it gratifying that someone would want to kill in order to improve your finances.'

‘No, no. Ridiculous. Oh, come on! This isn't funny!' Faked laughter. He glanced around at the others, looking for support.

‘You protest too much. Your friends all say you have a fatalistic, lazy streak in you. You probably didn't want to examine your suspicions too closely, but on one level you knew perfectly well what was happening. So long as you didn't challenge Claire about what she was doing, you could rationalize the situation. You regretted Tomi's death, but you didn't take it to heart, any more than you grieved for Harry. You're only sorry Nick died because he used to play golf with you. It probably amused you to think that such a large fortune was going to come your way without your having to lift a finger to help. So, you let it all happen. And since you wanted to marry and have children some day, why not reward Claire for all her efforts on your behalf? Why not promote her from arm candy to wife?'

A frown. A shake of the head. ‘That's more than offensive. That's libellous.'

‘Your only worry then was, how to stop her killing you after you were married. How are you going to manage that, by the way?'

‘I don't believe this! Claire; tell her . . . Hermia; this is ridiculous!'

Hermia took a gulp of champagne. ‘He'll get his solicitor to draft out a new will saying that if he died in unexplained circumstances, everything – and I mean everything, the houses, the estate, everything – would go to a distant cousin who bears his name. He'd leave Claire with a pittance.'

Bea said, ‘Is that what you're planning, Jamie?'

He shrugged. ‘When a man in my position marries, he has to think of the future of the estate, so he usually makes that sort of will, yes. Claire, tell them they've got it all wrong.'

Hermia put the boot in. ‘But just in case, Jamie; don't you think you'd better reconsider your engagement, at least for the time being?'

Jamie was in the habit of looking to Hermia for advice. Could he see that she was offering him a way out of his entanglement, a way that would leave him in sole possession of his new wealth?

‘I suppose . . . It sounds callous, but it might be best, yes. Claire, don't look like that. I mean, I know it's stupid, but perhaps we'd better be cautious, just till this is sorted out.'

Claire shrank back, her mouth distorting. ‘You bastard!'

‘Now, come on, Claire. Fair's fair. If you really did go off with Tomi that day . . . I mean, if you can prove that you haven't done anything, then of course . . . You know I'm desperately fond of you, but perhaps it would be best to do what Hermia says.' He let himself down on to the settee, staring at the carpet. Taking another gulp of his drink.

Bea wondered how much of this was acting. Jamie was too self-absorbed to feel great distress when his friends had died. He'd been having fun; he'd heard nothing, seen nothing and said nothing. He'd got his money and couldn't be charged with anything but stupidity. Or could he?

Claire began to weep. ‘You said you loved me!'

He shook his head. ‘I'll get over it, I expect. Make a clean break. Keep the ring. I don't want it back. If you've left anything at my place, I'll see it's sent on to you.'

‘But only this afternoon . . .!'

He looked uncomfortable. ‘Well, I didn't know then what I know now. I believed in you, Claire. I'm in shock.'

Tears of rage stood out on Claire's cheeks. ‘If you throw me off, I'll . . . I'll tell them you forced me to kill them, that it was all your idea, not mine! I'll tell them how brutal you've been to me!' She pinched her arms and slapped her face, raising livid pink marks on her pale skin. ‘They'll believe me. If I lose, then so will you!'

He gaped at her, out of his depth. He looked around at his friends, seeking support. ‘I didn't do anything, I swear it.' Silence. ‘Hermia, you believe me, don't you? Gregor?'

Claire laughed, a hard sound. ‘You see? They know you always come out smelling of lilies. They don't believe in your protestations of innocence.'

‘Yes, but I—'

She flushed a pretty pink in triumph. ‘It was he who killed Tomi, of course. I gave the girl a lift to his house and left her there. I haven't the slightest idea what he did with her after that, and when I asked him later what had happened to her, he hit me. After that he went after Harry and then Nick, and . . .' Here she managed a sob. ‘He told me that if I ever said anything to anyone, he'd kill me, too.'

‘You . . .!' Jamie was appalled. ‘You lie!'

‘You taught me well.' She shouldered her large handbag. ‘So, shall we go home and forget what's been said here tonight? I'm willing to let bygones be bygones, if you are. Nobody is going to go to the police, are they? For dear Jamie's sake. He'll marry me as planned, and we'll live together happily ever after. Agreed?' The injuries she'd inflicted on herself were setting into bruises. She was the very picture of innocence and distress.

No one moved.

Claire laughed. ‘So. Come along my darling. Beddy byes for little boys. And Mumsy-wumsy Claire will give him an extra special cuddle tonight, won't she?'

She held out her hand to Jamie, and with horror Bea saw that he was in two minds about accepting it. If he went home with her, he was damned. And he was damned if he didn't.

Time to act.
Lord, You know everything, including what makes for high fashion and what ruins the look of a good outfit. This is all about fashion, isn't it? Tomi wrote in her emails that she wasn't sure her old red dress would do for another society ‘do', but a friend had suggested where she might buy a good dress from a specialist boutique. Hermia was busy that last day. But Claire . . . Oh yes, Claire could have offered to take Tomi out to Cookham, and on that cold day she'd have offered Tomi a drink from a flask, and when she was dead, she tipped her out of the car into some bushes at the side of the road. So, help me now to sort this out.

As Claire leaned towards Jamie, so Bea reached out to pluck the handbag from off Claire's shoulder. Huge designer bags were all the fashion for daytime, but at night evening bags were supposed to be tiny. Like the other women, Claire was wearing a short evening dress, but they were all carrying small purses, which had made Claire's large bag look incongruous.

‘What?' Claire made a grab for the bag, but she was too late.

Upending it, Bea let a scatter of items fall on the settee.

Hermia started forward. ‘Why, isn't that Tomi's pink mobile phone! See? I gave her a sparkly star tag to put on her phone for her birthday, and she gave me one. Whose are those others?'

Duncan leaned over. ‘Hello! That looks rather like my old phone. I had one just like it, anyway. Lost it months ago.'

‘That diary,' said Claudine. ‘Didn't Tomi have one with a poppy on the cover? I remember comparing mine with hers, which is similar.'

‘Don't touch! There may be fingerprints!' Hermia turned on Claire. ‘Why are you carrying five mobile phones around with you? And whose are they? One will be yours, and another's will be Duncan's – which explains why I didn't get an answer when I phoned him at his old number. Did you use the phone Duncan lost when you arranged to pick up Tomi on the last day or her life, or did you use your own? Either way, there'll be a record of your phone call on one of these phones.'

‘What nonsense!'

‘Then there's Tomi's, the one with the sparkly tag. Was that the one you used to tell people she'd gone off of her own accord, and then to lure Chris out to where you'd left her body?'

‘How dare you!'

‘The third and fourth, were they Harry's and Nick's? You used Harry's to alert the police as to where to find Tomi, didn't you? You took the phones after you killed their owners, because if the police got hold of them, they could trace the calls you'd made earlier, arranging to meet your victims. You took Tomi's diary too, in case she'd made a note that she was due to meet you that day.'

A deep flush. A lie was being thought up. ‘One of the phones is mine, yes. Jamie gave me the others to carry for him.'

Jamie drew back. ‘What? Claire, why on earth should I—?'

A toss of her head. ‘Because putting them in your pockets would spoil the line of your jacket.'

Claudine swivelled round in her chair. In a conversational tone she said, ‘Tomi was last seen getting into your car, the autopsy proves she was not sexually assaulted and the motive was not robbery. But she did stand in your way too, Claire. You have her mobile and her diary. Proof at last!'

‘I suppose she dropped them when she got out of my car. I found them later.'

‘Wait a minute,' said Hermia. ‘If Claire is right, then Jamie's fingerprints should be on that mobile. Is that right, Claire?'