False Pretences (11 page)

‘Yet your understanding was that the statements were in his office, and not at home? Surely, bank statements usually go to one's home?'

‘The bank statements came here. I checked with the office staff. I suppose he may not have wanted Honoria to see them.'

‘Meaning that she didn't know he was taking backhanders?' She frowned. ‘I can't believe she didn't know.'

‘Well, we can't do anything about it now. We have to draw a line under it and move forward. Honoria threatened to sue us. The major and Mr Trimmingham have been backwards and forwards, trying to avoid publicity, and finally . . . Well, you've seen that we had to agree to her terms. What I want to know is, can you get rid of her for us?'

‘What? Why me?'

‘We've failed. My friend Cambridge thought you might be able to come up with something.'

Bea got to her feet. She thought better on her feet. She paced the room, thinking hard. ‘I don't see how I can help. As an outsider . . . Well, there is one thing. It struck me she didn't want the police any more than you do.'

‘She was insistent—'

‘She tugged at your chain, and you responded. She now knows that she can throw a hissy fit any time she wants, and you'll agree to her terms. In effect, she's blackmailing you, not for money, but for power.'

‘Power?' he echoed, long fingers rasping his chin.

‘If she'd sued for compensation to cover her husband's death, however little you wanted publicity, you'd have been forced to defend yourselves by disclosing the circumstances which led to his heart attack. His suspect – if not actually fraudulent – dealings would have been front-page news. Yes, the Trust would have suffered, but her suit against you for contributing to his demise would have been laughed out of court.

‘This way, she's happily ensconced in her husband's place with sole responsibility for granting contracts, and therefore for receiving kickbacks. As I see it, you've handed her a licence to print money, and you've assured her that she can be as obnoxious as she pleases because you won't risk going to the police.'

He shook his head. ‘We've insisted she uses different firms, not Corcorans.'

‘What sort of contract does she have with you?'

‘Trimmingham settled all that. Her contract will be ratified at a board meeting later this week.'

‘Trimmingham is the lawyer, right? He has your best interests at heart?'

A bland look. ‘He's a legal eagle, highly recommended by Denzil, after my cousin retired from the job.'

She faced him across the room, putting her hands on her hips. What a way to run a business!

‘Say it,' he said.

‘What on earth were you doing, to let her take over the Trust like this? From my own observations, and from what I've heard about Honoria and Denzil, she was the dominant partner. She's been spending money to restore the ancestral home. And I mean, what she's been doing costs real money. Do you know if she has any income of her own?'

‘I don't think so. She was running a business with her first husband, I believe, but it failed when he died. Then she married Denzil, who bought the manor for her. He got it cheap because it was a total wreck. Since then she's concentrated on restoring the house.'

‘Denzil was only paid an honorarium and expenses here, right? That's not enough to account for what they've been spending. It seems to me unlikely that she didn't know what was going on here. She probably instigated it.'

‘Then why were his bank statements sent here and not home?'

Bea thought of his payments to Kylie. Small beer, but probably something he'd like to keep from his wife's knowledge. ‘I suspect he was creaming off a percentage which he could keep for his own personal use. He conveniently dies on the day his fraud is exposed. So Honoria, who is determined not to lose her source of income, sets out to threaten and cajole you into replacing him.

‘The major seems a decent sort but hardly up to her weight. Trimmingham – he was brought in by Denzil, and we can deduce from the fact that he's giving her what she wants that he's on her side – and possibly on the take as well. She knows you fear publicity and, using that fear, she's blackmailing you into accepting her terms. The next thing you know, she'll be suggesting you step down as chair, so that she can take your place.'

Bea didn't know where that last idea had come from, but it fitted. ‘And you are going to sit there and let her, right?'

‘No, my dear. Wrong. I admit I have been remiss of late. My health is not good and, since my dear wife died, I have spent a lot of time at my house in Antigua.'

Bea threw up her hands. ‘What a way to run a business!'

‘True. And that's where you come in. Reasonable or otherwise, I'm prepared to pay you to get rid of her.'

‘What? How? You must be joking!' She looked at her watch, noted the time, picked up her handbag, and checked to see that she had everything. ‘Thank you for lunch. It was most entertaining.'

‘Ah, that reminds me; your tape recorder. You didn't erase Honoria's accusations this morning when you turned it off, did you?'

‘No, of course I didn't.' Bea was getting cross. ‘I kept them because I felt sorry for Zander, though of all the weak-willed . . . and you, too, as well! One look at you lot, and Honoria realized she could do whatever she liked with you. Well, I can't be expected to help people who won't help themselves. I'll see myself out.'

She stormed down the staircase. It seemed to her that the portraits on the walls bent over to watch her pass by. She paused in the hall, debating whether to put her head round the door marked ‘Reception' to say goodbye to Zander. She heard a phone ringing and someone answering it. She wondered what lay behind the other doors off the hall: office staff, kitchens? No, the kitchens would be in the basement, wouldn't they? With a butler's lift to carry food up to the dining room?

She went out into the fresh air. Busy street, Kensington Gardens opposite, splendid views. People everywhere. Noise.

There hadn't been much noise inside the Trust building. Except for Honoria.

‘Humph!' Bea twitched her neckline straight and headed for home.

Someone rang the front doorbell. Bea, Oliver and Maggie had finished supper, but no one was expecting visitors. Oliver went to see who it was, and returned with Zander, who was carrying a stunning white orchid in a pot.

Maggie shrieked, ‘What's he doing here?'

‘Calm down,' said Oliver.

Maggie slammed plates into the dishwasher. ‘Isn't there anywhere I can be safe from him?'

Zander blinked, and took half a step back. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean—'

Oliver glared at Maggie. ‘Grow up, girl. He's not here to see you.'

Bea took the plant off Zander. ‘For me? How thoughtful. It's quite beautiful. It needs to be kept out of the sun, right? Come into the sitting room, and we'll find a place for it.'

Zander sent an enigmatic look in Maggie's direction and followed Bea into the sitting room. Bea put the orchid on the coffee table and waved him to a chair. ‘I'm not taking any money from you, Zander, and it wasn't necessary for you to buy me a plant, though I must say it is delightful.'

‘If you hadn't been there this morning, I'd be in a police cell by now.'

‘No, you wouldn't. She doesn't want the police in. She's using that as a threat to make everyone do as she wants. She's poison. Get out while you can, even if you have to lose a month's money or whatever.'

‘I thought you wanted me to stay and fight.'

‘I've changed my mind about that. She fights dirty. You don't. So you can't win.'

‘Maybe not. But let me tell you what happened this afternoon. The major came down to see me. He apologized for the, er, misunderstanding about the bronze. He said he quite understood that I wouldn't wish to stay on now, but begged me to see the month out. He said he'd put it in writing. He promised me a bonus. He also promised me that I wouldn't have to have anything more to do with Lady Honoria. He said that if she tried to order me about I was to let him know, and he'd sort it. He said he'd arranged with her to use one of the girls in the office instead. I suggested someone who's been there for ever, is as tough as old boots and looks rather like one, too. She's seen everything in her time and won't put up with any nonsense from Her Highness.'

Bea sighed. Zander had been got at, hadn't he?

Zander said, ‘The major's been on to an agency for office staff already, and he's lined up a couple of people for interviews to take over the office manager's job, although they won't be able to deal with the website, of course. He said he was arranging some interviews for me with other firms at an increased salary. I thought about it and accepted his offer.'

Bea threw up her hands. ‘My instinct is that you should run, not just walk, away from that building and anything to do with her.'

‘Mine, too. But I thought about that trick of yours with the tape recorder, and on the way home I bought one that I can hang on a cord round my neck. Something visible, that I can switch on whenever she comes anywhere near me. That way I should be safe.'

Bea was silent. He was taking sensible precautions. But. ‘Zander, you believe in a loving God, don't you? Do you have a special prayer you can say for protection? I know my husband had one.'

He stood up, smiling. ‘Yes, Mrs Abbot. I do know one, I do use it, and I will ask protection for you and yours as well. Believe me, I am grateful.'

As she walked him to the door, he said, ‘By the way, you'll be amused to hear she's tearing the place apart looking for his briefcase, which has gone missing, and also for some paperwork which she insists her husband used to keep at the office. Would that be the tell-tale bank statements, do you think?'

They both smiled. Bea said, ‘Ah well, it's out of my hands now.'

The house was quiet around them, which meant Maggie had gone out. At the front door Bea hesitated, not knowing whether to mention the girl's rudeness to him or not. ‘I don't know how much Maggie told you about her past?'

‘Very little. We only went out a couple of times before the sky fell on me and I ended up in hospital. Oliver told me she'd had a bad experience a couple of years ago and it had made her wary of men.'

‘You are still attracted to her, though?'

He shrugged. ‘I had hoped the attraction was mutual. It appears not. I'm sorry to have upset her. I won't come here again.'

‘Thank you for being so understanding, Zander. Maggie had an overbearing mother who pushed her into an unsuitable marriage with a man who was on the rebound from an affair with a minor media celebrity. He ditched Maggie as soon as his old love showed signs of wanting him back. Between the two of them, bullying mother and cheating husband, they've undermined Maggie's self-confidence to the point that she feels incapable of inspiring love. She's fighting it now she has a good job, but in matters of the heart, she's still unsure of herself.

‘She tends to fancy men who can't or won't respond to her, and if they do she runs for the hills before they can hurt her again. Oliver helps by taking her out and about as a friend, but I fear it's going to be a long, slow process to rebuild her sense of self-worth.'

‘Ah. Poor girl. I am sorry. Perhaps, some day? I'm afraid I'm not one to chop and change.'

‘Time . . .'

‘Perhaps.' He gave her a little bow, and marched off into the sunset. Yes, there really was a rather splendid sunset, with a red sky.

Bea hoped it was a good omen.

Now, what next? She lifted the phone, intending to ring through to Nicole, and her front doorbell rang. Bother. She'd have to answer it, since the others were out.

Mr Cambridge stood on the doorstep, holding another bottle of champagne, and behind him came Lord Murchison, leaning on his stick to help him up the steps.

Bea was not inclined to let them in. ‘You should have phoned for an appointment.'

‘Would you have agreed to see us, if we had? I gambled that you wouldn't turn Tommy away after he's climbed your steps so painfully.'

Lord Murchison stopped on the last step from the top, breathing hard. He was very pale. Was he putting it on? Bea threw up her hands and let them in. ‘I don't want any champagne, though.'

‘You think it's a bribe? I assure you, it's for medicinal purposes, for Tommy and for me. You may join us if you wish, but it's not essential.'

Bea set her teeth. She had a suspicion that Mr Cambridge was capable of running rings round her, and she didn't like it. She fetched glasses from the kitchen. By the time she returned, Lord Murchison had found himself a seat in what used to be Hamilton's chair with the high back, and Mr Cambridge was easing the cork out of the champagne bottle.

She declined the proffered champagne and took a seat herself. ‘I thought I'd made my position clear.'

‘Eminently so,' said Lord Murchison, regaining some colour in his cheeks with his first glass of champagne. ‘But we thought you might change your mind if you knew the reason why we shun publicity.'

Bea shrugged. A glass of champagne appeared at her elbow. She felt like smashing it into the fireplace, but she refrained because she knew very well who'd have to clear up the mess afterwards. Besides, these glasses were antiques, which Hamilton had carefully collected one by one, and she couldn't bear to break them.

Lord Murchison held out his own glass for a refill. ‘May I have your assurance that you will treat what I tell you in confidence?'