False Step (25 page)

‘Have you any idea why your daughter made a will, leaving Matthew's house to Lily Cunningham?'

Gail shrugged, wide-eyed. ‘I had no idea they were still in touch with one another. I don't understand anything. I mean, my daughter had enough to do to keep her own household going, so why on earth would she give Matthew's house away?'

‘You said there was something else bothering you?'

Gail drew in her breath, sharply. ‘You'll laugh at me when I say … but I don't understand why Damaris was on that particular platform at Ealing Broadway. She takes … took … the Central Line from Ealing Broadway into Notting Hill Gate every morning. Then she'd walk down Kensington Church Street to the High Street to the shop where she worked. So why was she on a mainline platform instead of a Tube? They say no one was standing anywhere near her except a Muslim woman shrouded to the eyeballs in black. She's disappeared and I can't say I blame her. Apparently Damaris just toppled in front of the train. Vertigo, maybe? Perhaps she'd taken something for a cold or … I'm clutching at straws, aren't I? I would have said she was the last person to commit suicide. I can't make sense of it.'

She had a point, there. Add it to the list? Bea said, ‘There's a lot I don't understand, either. I tell myself there's a simple explanation for everything that's happened, but I haven't a clue what it is.'

Gail was sharp. ‘I don't do fantasy. I feel as I'm being manipulated by someone, but I can't see who it is who's pulling the strings.'

‘Lily Cunningham?'

Gail pulled a face. ‘That poor creature? I don't think so.'

‘Maybe Derek knows something we don't. I'm paying him a visit this afternoon, see if I can recover Max's laptop and mobile. Want to come?'

‘Certainly. I need to see him, too, find out what I can do to help. There's the funeral to organize … oh, dear. No, I am not going to be sick again!'

‘Of course you're not. I'm relying on you to help me put the fear of death into the Frasier boys. You can do that, can't you?'

Gail tried to smile. ‘Give them detention? Threaten them with suspension from school? What other cards can we play?'

‘Bluff our way in, and bluff our way out. You back me up, and we win. Right?'

Maggie took a red pencil and circled a date on her big calendar. ‘Are we all going to the funeral tomorrow? It sounds as if it's going to be fun, with all the wives and everyone being grabby. Only, I've got so much on, I'm not sure I can make it.'

Oliver drove them to the Frasiers', saying he needed the practice before he took his test next week. It was a mark of how competent a driver he was, that Bea didn't find herself trying to push her foot through the floor of the car at every traffic light. Besides which, Gail needed someone to listen to her.

‘I wonder how they'll manage now. Damaris did everything for them. Will he want me to help clear out her clothes …?' Gail shuddered, looking out of the window, not looking at Bea. ‘It's a terrible thing, having a child die before you. I said we weren't close and we weren't, but I always hoped … silly of me. She couldn't admit that she'd made a mess of her life, married the wrong man. She was always dreaming that one day they'd get out of that house and he'd find a job which would make him a millionaire, and the boy would get into Oxford or Cambridge … stupid, stupid!'

‘How often did you see her?'

‘Every other month, just the two of us. The theatre, a good meal, an exhibition. The sort of thing she couldn't afford herself. I hardly ever went to the house. The last time I was there was on Christmas Day. I'd taken them all out for a meal, the three of them plus Derek's sister and her two. Nothing pleased them, though it cost me an arm and a leg, what with presents for all of them and … well … they gave me a couple of DVDs which didn't work. Typical. The kids whined throughout.

‘After the meal we went back to their house and everyone settled down to some serious drinking and watching a violent DVD. Not my scene. Damaris asked if I'd like to go out for a walk with her. She said she was a bit desperate for money, and would I lend her a couple of thousand, and I felt dreadful but said no because I knew Derek would only take it. Sad, sad. Perhaps, if I'd given it to her …? But no. She's “borrowed” money from me before and never been able to pay it back.

‘I felt miserable about it, but then it occurred to me that Matthew had taken out an insurance policy in her favour years ago. I suggested she enquire whether she could borrow money on that. She said she hadn't seen him in a couple of years, but maybe my mention of him made her think she should look him up.'

The Frasier house looked as depressed as before, and there was no large black cat sitting on the doorstep any more. The car had been moved and returned to a slightly different position. Bea wondered how Mr Frasier had managed to get it started. Had he called on the services of a friendly neighbour?

Bea looked at the well-kept houses on either side, and thought they would have to be extremely charitable neighbours to help Derek out. But perhaps they were being helpful, in view of the circumstances? Grieving widow, motherless child. Hm. It was a trifle difficult to see Derek and Tom in those roles.

Oliver held up his mobile phone. ‘You'll signal if you can get hold of Mr Max's stuff, right? Then I'll ring Maggie and get her to tell him he can relax. But if there's the slightest hint of trouble, I'm contacting the police, understood?'

‘Don't be so melodramatic, Oliver,' said Bea, ringing the doorbell. The drainpipe was still hanging at an angle. Nothing had been added to the recycling box. She could see the television was on inside the front room, so presumably the Frasiers were in.

Gail hugged herself. ‘Let me do the talking, Bea. He knows he can't push me around.'

Derek Frasier opened the door, looking wary. When he saw Gail as well as Bea, he tried to smile, his eyes flickering from one woman to the other … and then flicking to the car outside, where Oliver was staring at him. Derek's eyes almost disappeared inside their lids as he computed what a visitation by three of them might mean.

‘Gail,' he said. ‘I wasn't expecting you.'

‘Derek. How are you doing? My friend here offered me a lift and I thought we could have a chat about the funeral arrangements.' Gail didn't offer to kiss him, and he didn't seem to expect it, either. She stepped past him into the hall. There was a coat-stand in the hall, with a couple of women's jackets on it. Damaris's jackets. Gail took off her coat and after a moment's hesitation, draped it over the newel post at the bottom of the staircase. Bea kept hers on.

‘How am I doing?' said Derek. ‘Oh, you know …' He held open the door to the front room, so that they could go through. ‘Tom's been poorly again, but my sister's coming over this evening to get us some supper.'

‘That's good,' said Gail, without a flicker of sympathy for her grandson. So what could be the matter with Tom? Nothing serious, to judge by Gail's reaction.

Bea followed Gail into the front room and took an upright chair by the door. As she'd expected, the packaging from the new television and from the electronic game was still there. The flower vase was empty of water, the flowers dying.

Tom was half lying and half sitting on the settee, wearing the same clothes as on the previous day, laces undone on his trainers, a fresh stain on his T-shirt. There were three long, livid-looking scratches on his left hand and wrist. He didn't get up or move over to let the visitors sit down and appeared glued to his electronic game.

Gail hovered by the settee.

‘Move over, Tom,' said Derek. ‘Can't you see your grandmother needs somewhere to sit down? She's come to discuss the funeral arrangements, so we'll excuse you if you like.'

‘Before you disappear, Tom,' said Gail, ‘I promised my friend here that I'd collect the things you picked up by mistake last night.'

‘What things? Dunno what you mean,' mumbled Tom, without looking at her. He pulled the sleeve of his sweatshirt further down, to hide his scratched wrist. ‘I was in all night.'

‘I can confirm that,' said Derek, with a wide smile. ‘We watched the football together. Most exciting. I didn't think you were interested in sport, Gail. I'd be most interested to hear what you thought of that disputed decision in the first half.'

Gail looked at the brand new television. ‘You recorded it to watch later, I suppose. I came here to discuss the funeral arrangements, but we have to get this other business out of the way first. I know you and Tom paid a visit to Mrs Abbot's last night and came away with a laptop and a mobile phone belonging to her son.'

Derek mimed shock, horror! ‘What a terrible thing to say. I think your daughter's death must have turned your brain.'

Tom giggled, eyes still on his game.

‘Mr Abbot is offering a small reward,' said Gail, in full headmistress mode. ‘Generally speaking, I am not in favour of rewards being offered for the recovery of stolen items, but as this particular theft has resulted in considerable inconvenience for Mr Abbot, I am prepared to act as go-between, provided we can clear the matter up straight away.'

‘I am astounded,' said Derek. His colour deepened, but his smile never wavered. ‘I would never have thought it of you, Gail. Lending yourself to criminal activity! Whatever would Damaris have said?'

‘It's because I'm thinking of my daughter that I'm offering to help you out. She wouldn't have wanted you dragged down to the police station and charged with assault and theft before she's buried.'

‘Assault and theft? My, what big words. I deny them, I absolutely do.'

Time for Bea to take a hand. She said, ‘A cat's scratches can so easily turn septic. Perhaps it would be a good idea to take Tom to the doctor's, get him some antibiotics. They might save his life. The DNA we took from the cat will provide a good match, of course.'

‘What …?' Tom looked alarmed, losing interest in his game and turning to his father for reassurance. ‘They can't do that, can they?'

Bea raised her eyebrows. ‘Do what, Tom? Place you at the crime scene? Yes, of course they can. You may not have your DNA on record as yet, but when we give the police your name, they'll be out here asking for a sample straight away. Your father didn't get scratched, did he?'

Derek's eyes almost disappeared into his head. ‘The cat scratched Tom earlier, before you stole him from us.'

‘How do you know that the cat ended up at my place,' said Bea, ‘unless you came across him at my place last night?'

Silence.

Derek gave a short laugh, conceding a point but not giving up.

Bea said, ‘We could call the police and let them search the house—'

‘Not without a warrant, you don't. Where's your proof?'

Gail took over. ‘Derek, let's talk finance. Without Damaris's wages, it's going to be hard for you to keep this house on.'

‘I have my disability pension, and Tom's child benefit. Besides, my sister's planning to move in here with her two. She's in a really run-down council flat at the moment, been looking for something better for ages. She'll see us all right.'

‘You also have a gambling habit. Now I know that Matthew took out a life insurance in Damaris's favour, so—'

‘We cashed that in ages ago, when we got behind with the mortgage. I've been down the Social and they tell me there's some money coming in here and there, enough to pay for the funeral and that's it. In the meantime, we'll do all right.'

Bea smiled, too. Not nicely. ‘Derek, do you really think you can get my son to pay a considerable amount of money for the return of his laptop and mobile? Perhaps you think he's already agreed to your terms?'

Derek grinned even more widely, and tapped the side of his nose.

Bea said, ‘What you don't realize is that you've been taken for a ride. Oh yes, he took your call and agreed to your terms. But you haven't been able to get back to him this afternoon to make the final arrangements, have you?'

His grin morphed into a stare. He could sense the fist of fate was about to deliver him a knockout blow, but he couldn't see where it was coming from.

Bea leaned forward to emphasize the point she was making. ‘He kept you on the phone long enough for the call to be traced but he had no intention of paying. Do you understand?'

His mouth slackened. The blow had landed.

Bea said, ‘Neither Gail nor I want this silly little affair on tomorrow's front pages, so if you hand over the laptop and mobile, we'll see that the matter goes no further.'

Tom was shocked. ‘You mean, Special Branch taped our call?'

‘What did you expect? Assault, theft and blackmail on a Member of Parliament gets you first-class attention. Now I have the reward money here, so if you'd …?'

Tom scrambled out of the settee and hitched up his low-slung jeans. ‘I'll get the stuff, Dad.' He shot out of the room.

Derek was blinking, trying to adjust. Bea held out an envelope to him, and he took it, slowly. Disappointment in every ample line of him. ‘There's not much here.'

‘One hundred pounds in tens. Better than handcuffs for you and Tom having to go into care. You'd better get that arm of his seen to, by the way. I wasn't joking when I said it looked bad.'

Derek counted the notes, slowly.

Tom returned with Max's laptop and mobile. ‘We didn't do anything with them, honest.' He fidgeted with his sleeve. ‘Dad … how's about taking me down the hospital? My arm really hurts, you know.'

Derek was not sympathetic. ‘When they've gone. Shut up and sit down.'

Bea went to the window, waved to attract Oliver's attention, and held up the laptop and mobile for him to see. Oliver nodded, and started to make the call to Maggie to say all was well. Bea returned to her seat, content to let Gail take over again. Tom collapsed on to the settee, looking sullen. Gail took a notebook out of her handbag. ‘Now that that's out of the way, let's get down to discussing funerals. Derek, have you and Tom got something clean and decent to wear to Matthew's funeral tomorrow? Did Damaris invite people back here for a cuppa afterwards?'