The Jigsaw Puzzle (6 page)

‘He's with Penny. She got him at a jumble sale.'

Alice looked as if she had bitten into a particularly indigestible olive. ‘I see. It's very kind of you, Penny, but I'm afraid the food won't do at all. The opening has been themed.'

‘That's all right. It's for us during the day while we're tidying the rest of the place,' said Penny. ‘I brought sandwich-makings too. Don't worry – if there's any left later and your guests try to eat it, I'll tell them they're not to.'

Julian wandered back into the foyer, a sausage roll in his hand. He was followed by Leo and the girls. Penny was struck by the difference in the men. Both were tall and good-looking, but Julian exuded suavity and self-satisfaction whereas Leo was younger, hungrier, and twice as alive.

‘Marvellous snacks, Penny,' said Julian. ‘You'll want to see the gallery. You too, Frances. Wonderful challenge. I think you'll really appreciate the sensitivity of my conversion.'

That was Julian all over. Once she had loved his enthusiasm for all the tiny delicate details of his projects, assuming he would bring the same degree of care to marriage and children. It had taken her a shockingly long time to realise he never would. But she was aware of Leo's bright-eyed interest and hadn't the heart to disappoint either of them. ‘I doubt it, Julian, but do feel free to talk us through it.'

Alice's grip tightened on her clip board. ‘Let's all go.'

Poor Alice. She just couldn't take it in that Penny really, really didn't want Julian back.

The artists' wing was startlingly white. Also bright with the north light striking down through the high curved windows that ran the whole length of the sinuous, uncluttered space.

‘But not cold, I notice,' murmured Leo as they followed Julian along the carpeted floor. ‘
Would
it have been carpeted?' he said aloud.

Penny narrowed her eyes. He sounded earnest but there was just a whiff of mischief to the question. Had he taken a dislike to her ex?

‘Geometric tiled flooring originally,' said Julian. ‘I prefer to go with the flow of a building rather than historical accuracy. We aren't reproducing here. We are enhancing.' He waved an expressive hand.

‘You mean you had trouble sourcing replacements?' said Penny.

The look of pained sorrow was another reason they were now divorced. ‘It wasn't appropriate. As you can see, we've left the far cell
in situ
for visitors to project their imagination back to how it would have looked when the artists were in residence, but there was no need for the other internal walls.'

‘It's certainly impressive,' said Leo. ‘Where did this break-in occur?'

There was a tiny silence.

 ‘We don't know that it did,' said Alice.

‘Yes, we do,' contradicted Rosamund serenely. ‘I always know when intruders have been in my house.'

Leo turned an alert gaze on her. ‘Really? But this place is so big – and there must have been workmen in and out all the time. How could you tell?'

Rosamund shrugged. ‘I just could. The atmosphere felt disturbed.'

Leo's eyes were fixed on Rosamund. He nodded thoughtfully. Penny felt a tiny stab of pride that he was taking her friend seriously.

‘But nothing was taken,' Alice reminded them.

‘How did they get in?' asked Leo, assessing the smooth white walls and the high, curving row of windows.

‘Through the far door,' answered Rosamund. ‘I noticed the bolt hadn't been shot when I came here to open up for the electrician.'

‘That's why you
thought
there had been a break-in, but it doesn't explain how they would have unbolted the door from the outside.' Alice had the grittily reasonable air of having said this several times.

Rosamund patted her arm. ‘They were obviously professionals.'

Penny heard a small choking sound and looked around to see Frances and her friend Marissa clutching each other in silent hysterics. She struggled to keep her own expression sober and accidentally caught Leo's eye.

He frowned in mock reproof. ‘What about the other set of intruders?' he asked. ‘Did they enter through the end door too?'

‘We don't know, but they were in the store room,' said Rosamund. ‘The latch makes a very distinctive click. I heard it quite clearly.'

Alice pursed her lips. ‘As the police inspector pointed out, old houses make all sorts of noises. And nothing was taken.'

‘Peculiar,' said Leo. ‘Surely these paintings must be worth a bob or two?'

‘Exactly,' agreed the younger woman in triumph. ‘So it can't have been a robbery, can it?'

Rosamund waved this argument away. ‘The paintings in the store room were from lesser-known artists that had been delivered straight here instead of Alice collecting them. They hadn't been shown for years, so the burglars might not have known they were valuable.'

Penny could see Leo drinking everything in. His manner was relaxed, but his body was tense.
He's excited
.
He believes he's on to a story.
And she felt a shameful thrill because although Rosamund was her friend, Penny dearly loved getting to grips with a puzzle.

Further down the gallery, Julian was waiting to tell them all about the difficulties of hanging large canvases on a curving wall and the clever way he'd camouflaged the security cameras without compromising the clean design of the original building. Personally, Penny thought it could have done with a bit of compromising. She was beginning to get snow-blindness in here.

Leo listened attentively. ‘How many painters are represented?' he asked when Julian paused for breath and they were free to browse along the walls.

‘Sixteen,' answered Rosamund. ‘It's a reprise of the exhibition that was on when World War Two closed the gallery. The show was only open for a couple of days that time. Then there was a heavy bombing run up the coast and Wallace panicked, shut Salthaven Heights, and sent everyone away for safety. He reopened the gallery six years later with something quite different. It was a nice idea of Alice's to collect the canvases together again for this wing, don't you think?'

‘Very appropriate. It must have taken some doing.' Leo wandered along the wall, looking at the paintings and the panels of information about the artists.

Rosamund smiled. ‘Yes, but she had her grandfather's notebooks to go on. And a vested interest in making it work, of course.'

Alice stiffened.

‘A very natural vested interest,' said Penny hastily. ‘You remember I mentioned George Greville, Leo? Alice is his granddaughter.'

She looked towards Leo to see what he thought of this nugget of information, but he was staring at one of the paintings with a puzzled look. In the uncompromising white light of the gallery, his face seemed just a touch grey.

‘Leo?' asked Penny.

He gave a tiny movement, as if jerking back to the present. ‘Greville's granddaughter? Fascinating. He was one of the luminaries of the community here, wasn't he?' His eyes slid back to the painting.

‘Very kind of you to say so,' said Alice, shooting a dagger glance at Rosamund. ‘If you'll all excuse me, I really do have a hundred things to do before the opening.' And she whisked off, taking Julian with her.

‘You are very bad, Rosamund,' scolded Penny.

Her friend sighed. ‘I know. But she brings out all my nastiest vibes. I'm not completely stupid, sweetie. She's not doing this for me, she's doing it to further Julian's career, raise interest in Grandpa's paintings and the Salthaven School, and add a solid touch of community spirit to her Hopeful-Member-of-Parliament CV. And there
were
two break-ins, whatever she says.'

‘I believe you. Let's get on. The ground floor carpets aren't going to vacuum themselves and I'll just bet all your glasses need washing before we pour strong drink down the art journalists' throats. Frances, have you and Marissa set up the jewellery yet?'

‘No, Dad found us. C'mon, Marissa. Where would Alice hate us to put your stall most?'

‘Frances!'

‘But, Ma, she's so funny the way she won't let anything spoil Dad's new extension. Talk about single-minded.'

‘And
so
sugar-coated,' said Marissa. ‘No matter how hard Mum and I try to make her lose her cool.'

The girls went off arm in arm, heads together, giggling. Rosamund followed them. Penny tapped her foot irresolutely.

‘What's up?' said Leo, coming to stand next to her.

Penny sighed. ‘I am trying very hard not to interfere. Frances is thinking of asking her father for a holiday job. I'm not being petty,' she added, ‘it's just that he'll exploit her and she won't learn anything useful. An architect's office is no place for a girl who simply wants to make clothes.'

Again to her mild surprise, Leo looked thoughtful. ‘The
Salthaven Messenger
is planning a feature on the town's hidden gems – in other words they are going to plug some of the off-High-Street shops. One of the possibles is a new designer clothes boutique in that tangle of tiny roads around the Market Square. I went in there to interview the owner. Quirky place. Could Frances take some of her stuff along to show she's serious and to ask for a holiday job as a girl Friday? She won't earn anything, of course, but the experience should be useful.'

‘Leo, that's a fantastic idea!' Penny felt relief roll over her. ‘I'll suggest it. She can call in after school next week. Thank you.'

Leo grinned. ‘No problem. I'll look up the name for you. Now you tell me something. Why is Alice Greville – a fine upstanding pillar of society – playing down Rosamund's intruders?'

Penny shrugged. ‘Doesn't want to rock the boat with the exhibition coming up?'

He shook his head. ‘No, she ought to be paranoid about anyone damaging either the gallery or Grandpa's works of art.' He prowled the walls again, looking upwards at the hidden cameras and down again at the paintings.

‘But she knows the exhibits are OK,' said Penny. ‘They've all been checked by an expert and had their authenticity verified. And nothing showed up on the security tapes, which is one reason for the police losing interest. Why are you staring at this painting?'

Leo had paused by the same canvas he'd been gazing at before. He rubbed his forehead. ‘Not sure. I feel I should know it. I remember the boats and I remember this nick in the frame. But I can't remember where I've seen it before.'

‘Who's it by?' Penny looked across to the artist information panel. ‘Ted Edwards. Never heard of him. Do you think it's important?'

‘I don't know!' Leo balled his fists in frustration. ‘I
hate
this. I hate not being able to remember things. It's like finding the flat bit at the top of the stairs instead of another step.'

Penny owed him something for suggesting the boutique. ‘Can you picture the wall-covering behind the frame? Relax and try to see it. Is it paint or wallpaper? What's the space like around you? Are you in a gallery or a private house?'

He looked at her with startled respect.

She laughed. ‘I've had a lot of practice helping children find things they've mislaid. Go on, try it.'

 He shut his eyes. ‘Wallpaper, I think,' he said slowly. ‘And crowded. Dimmer than it is here.'

‘It could hardly be brighter,' said Penny dryly. ‘Do you think you might have seen this painting during your missing week?'

His eyes flew open. ‘I certainly hope so! I'd hate to think any more bits of my memory are flaking away!'

Penny squeezed his arm. ‘It'll come back when it's ready. You don't keep a work diary?'

‘Yes, but it was mangled in the smash.'

‘Do you have a back-up on the computer?'

‘Not up to date,' he said shamefacedly.

‘Oh well, like I say, it'll come to you. I'm going to make tea before I start tidying. Want a cup or have you got things to do?'

‘Love one. Then I'm going to rattle Alice by asking about the rest of these painters. Tell her I want to flesh out the bare bones of the press release.'

‘And what do you really want to find out?'

‘Haven't the faintest. But I'll know it when I hear it. That's the exciting bit about investigative journalism, that moment when you find a linking piece of puzzle. Can you pin your friend down as to why she's so sure there was someone in the house on those two occasions?'

‘I can try, but the answer won't make sense. Rosamund has flirted with reality since she was six. People tend to take her tales of auras and disturbances in the ether with a pinch of salt.'

Leo raised his eyebrows. ‘That could be what the intruder was banking on.'

Penny shivered. ‘You really think something is fishy?'

‘Yes, I do. Journalists' hunch.' He looked along the wall with dissatisfaction. ‘This is all too perfect somehow.'

‘Oh, that's just the Julian effect. No blemishes allowed. Adding Alice to the mix makes it lethal. Can we go? This gallery is making me dizzy.'

As they walked back through to the main house, Leo glanced sideways. ‘Do I take it you and Julian had a civilised divorce?'

‘Extremely. It helped that Alice didn't want any suggestion of mud attached to her future MP status. My demands were met almost before I'd made them.'

Leo's mouth twisted. ‘Lucky you.'

Penny felt a clenching sensation in her stomach. ‘I'm sorry. I'd forgotten your separation wasn't voluntary. Do you ever see your little boy? What's his name?'

‘Daniel. Yes, every month. It's not enough.' He frowned suddenly.

‘What is it?'

‘Nothing. An almost memory, but it's gone. Anyway, if it wasn't for Daniel, I'd never want to see Kayleigh again.' He frowned again. ‘There
is
something.' He banged his fist against the wall. ‘Why can't I remember?'