The Devil in Disguise (27 page)

‘It sounds very grand when you put it like that,' Gary said in a self-deprecating tone. ‘Really, I'd be the first to admit that there's plenty in my life to be ashamed of. Right from the start. I'm illegitimate, as it happens. Cullinan was my mother's maiden name. I never knew my father.'

‘Who can tell?' Inge said with a smile. ‘For all any of us knows, your father might have been a peer of the realm. Someone with a guilty secret who didn't dare to acknowledge your birth.'

Gary smirked. ‘That would be a nice twist, wouldn't it? One thing's for sure, though, my dad never provided for either my mother or me. We lived in Birkenhead, near the old shipyard. Money was always short and Mum fell foul of the law. There was a business about some forged cheques - she had to go away. I was brought up by an elderly aunt, thinking that my mother was some glamorous gangster on the run. The truth was rather more prosaic. She was doing time.'

Inge squeezed his hand. ‘It must have been dreadful for you.'

‘I won't pretend life was easy. Of course, I dreamed that when I grew up, I'd make a fortune and look after my mother. She died before I had a chance to make the fantasy come true. I was only nine years old. I suppose after that, one thing led to another. I mixed with bad company.'

Over the years Harry had acted for many clients whose misfortune had been to fall in with a bad crowd. One of these days, perhaps he would meet someone who admitted to being the bad crowd's moving spirit, rather than one of its luckless victims. He said, ‘So you got into trouble with the police?'

‘Nothing too serious,' Gary said with a grin. ‘I soon learned how to talk my way out of a tight corner. But eventually I decided that it was time for me to leave Merseyside. Seek my fortune elsewhere, so to speak. I wanted to make it big. Learn how to talk nicely, behave like the rich people I saw on the telly. I must have been all of fifteen.'

‘Didn't you say you sold cars for a living?' Inge asked. It was clear that she admired his enterprise, his determination to better himself.

Gary gave a careless wave of the hand. ‘Cars, office equipment, property. You name it. I went to Spain for a while and bought a share in a bar with an expat. For a time we did very well out of it. When things went sour, I came back to this country. I still hadn't found my niche, but I met a chap who had a financial services business. He needed a salesman and we joined forces. Some of the clients were high net worth folk. One was a blue-rinsed lady who was especially well-connected. She leapt to the conclusion that I was one of
the
Cullinans and I'm afraid I did nothing to disabuse her.'

‘You are a terrible man,' Inge said fondly.

‘I must admit I found it enormously entertaining that she thought that I was one of Lord Gralam's sons. So much so that I decided to check out the family. When I realised quite how rich they were, I started to think: wouldn't it be nice if I really were one of
the
Cullinans. It wasn't such a big leap to turn the idea into reality. I discovered that Matthew had departed for Madras. I fancied working for myself rather than making pots of money for someone else. So I decided to return to my home ground - not as Gary the likely lad, but as Matthew, the wealthy and respectable financial services guru. And you know what?'

‘Go on,' Harry said.

‘I could never call myself a wizard on investment business. I find it hard enough to pick a winner in a one-horse race. But people didn't seem to care. As long as they believed they were dealing with the son of Lord Gralam, they were happy to accept anything I said as gospel.'

‘As Luke Dessaur did.'

‘Exactly. It was amazing.'

‘Perhaps,' Harry said slowly, ‘Luke was more naïve than any of us realised.'

‘I think so. When he invited me on to the board, I felt I could hardly say no. That's been my problem over the years, I guess. Like mother, like son. Neither of us were ever able to resist temptation.'

He stretched out an arm and began to stroke Inge's hair. ‘And then a funny thing happened, Harry. I met Inge at a cocktail party - and I fell in love. But by then I was trapped. I was introduced to her as the honourable Matthew Cullinan. What could I do?'

‘He thought I would drop him like a hot potato if I knew the truth,' Inge said. She gave Gary a gentle punch in the stomach. ‘You should have had more faith in me, darling. It was you I was interested in, not your family background.'

‘But I was afraid you would assume I was on the make, simply after your money. Let's face it, your father still does think precisely that.'

‘He'll come round,' she said. ‘He only wants the best for me. Once he sees that you give me everything I need, he'll share our happiness.'

Gary beamed. ‘I must say, Harry, it's really a tremendous relief that the truth has come out. Even though I took fright when I first took the call from Desmond Reeve. And your fellow solicitor, Reuben Fingall, is a damned fine lawyer. I could tell the police were nervous of him. And when

I explained you acted for the Trust, he said how glad he was.'

Harry frowned. Such a compliment from Ruby was akin to a cannibal's expression of goodwill towards a missionary. ‘What about the missing money?'

‘Reuben said he was confident you would advise Frances Silverwood to take a reasonable view,' Gary said smoothly. ‘Let's face it, the publicity would do no-one any good. Besides, the money will be repaid within the next forty-eight hours.'

‘And where is it coming from, may I ask?'

‘Harry, please,' Inge said. ‘Don't look stern. It doesn't suit you. Can't you forget you're a solicitor and remember you're a human being.'

‘The two aren't
always
mutually exclusive.'

‘If it matters,' she said, ‘the money will be coming from me. Together with the appropriate amount of interest. I will let Ms Silverwood have my cheque. In addition, I plan to make a personal donation. I had it in mind when we were at the Pool Theatre. The Trust obviously does a great deal for the arts in Liverpool. I'm keen to give it every possible support.'

‘I don't want you to think I'm simply content to let Inge buy me out of trouble,' Gary said. ‘We've argued about this for hours.'

‘But I insisted,' she said. ‘He needs to make a fresh start. We plan to start our married life with a clean sheet.'

‘So the engagement is on?' Harry asked heavily.

‘We plan to get married as soon as possible. This business - strangely enough, it has brought us even closer together.'

Gary said, ‘What doesn't destroy you, makes you stronger.' Harry reflected that the journalists would love his mastery of the confession-story cliché.

‘So I hope that the Trust won't press charges,' Inge said.

‘It's not up to them,' Harry said. ‘It's a decision for the prosecution service.'

‘But you will urge Frances Silverwood not to be vindictive? I gather that she and Gary have never hit it off.'

‘I've always regarded her as a fair-minded woman.'

‘Spoken like a lawyer, if I may say so. Very careful. The important thing, surely, is that the Trust will not be out of pocket. On the contrary. And I gather there is a prospect of funds from the Kavanaugh estate.'

In the background, Debussy was playing on the hi-fi. At least things could have been worse: Gary might have chosen something else by Gervase Kavanaugh. Harry said, ‘Vera Blackhurst's solicitor has confirmed that she's willing to agree a reasonable deal.'

Geoffrey Willatt had spoken to Jim whilst Harry was out of action. Apparently their old boss was a sadder and wiser man. And Vera was off on holiday to the Canaries. She was not expected to return to Liverpool.

‘You can imagine how I felt when she produced that bloody will,' Gary said in comfortable reminiscence. ‘I'd been relying on that money to tide the Trust over. Besides, I could tell from the start she was a con merchant.' He paused. ‘Ah, Harry, I can read you mind. You're thinking: “It takes one to know one.”'

‘Something of the sort,' Harry admitted. How was it that a cheat and a bullshitter could put him on the defensive, make him feel that he was in the wrong? ‘I can't make any promises. But I will speak to Frances and Tim.'

‘It's Frances who concerns me, not dear old Tim,' Gary said. ‘She can be very ruthless, I suspect, but he wouldn't hurt a fly.'

Although he killed his own mother
, Harry thought.
And perhaps even a mercy killing demands a certain ruthlessness
.

Inge said, ‘Frances has had enough heartache, she ought not to want to cause heartache to others. She knows what it is like, to lose the man she loved.'

Gary said, ‘She lost him a long time ago.'

‘What do you mean?' Harry asked.

‘Only that Luke confided in me a little while back that she was keen to marry him. We'd had an evening together and a few drinks. He talked more freely than he usually did, said he was going to tell her it was impossible.'

‘Did he say why?'

Gary looked puzzled. He was not, Harry sensed, someone who ever spent much time wondering what made other people tick. ‘He told me he'd been very happily married. His wife had died tragically and I suppose he didn't think anyone else would ever live up to his expectations. Frankly, he gave me the impression that he was embarrassed by Frances's attentions. I think she was bothered by the passage of time. She must be - what? - getting on for forty. Remember that song in the musical at the Pool Theatre? “Tick Tock Goes The Clock”? I thought of Frances when the girls were singing that.'

‘I wonder if Luke ever had that conversation with her?'

‘Not sure.'

‘Perhaps she guessed what was in his mind,' Inge suggested.

‘Who can tell what a woman thinks?' Gary smiled and gave her knee a pat. ‘Anyway, thanks for coming to see us. It's good to talk. And let's hope that this is one story with a happy ending.'

‘But not for Roy Milburn.'

‘Well, yes. Extraordinary, isn't it? To think that Roy is dead. I've heard a rumour that it may have been suicide.'

‘It might have made more sense if he'd killed himself before Luke died,' Harry said carefully. ‘After all, Luke suspected him rather than yourself of taking the money from the Trust.'

Gary shook his head. ‘If only. Luke was old-fashioned and something of an innocent. But he did finally cotton on to me before he died.'

Harry raised his eyebrows. ‘What makes you think that?'

‘He told me so. A few days before his death, he asked me to have a chat. When we talked, he caught me off guard. I'd expected another cosy conversation over a drink, with Luke opening his heart about Frances again. But he was a good deal cooler this time round. Of course, he didn't know that I was not Matthew Cullinan, so he was very cautious. He said he thought I could cast light on the whereabouts of the missing money. I pretended to be baffled, but he persisted. I asked him if he'd spoken to Roy as treasurer and he gave me short shrift. Told me that Roy was useless. He'd checked the share valuations I'd provided and found out they were phoney.'

‘As a matter of interest,' Harry said, ‘what did you do with the money?'

‘He was saving it to spend on our wedding,' Inge said. ‘I'm as much to blame as Gary.'

Gary smiled and said, ‘I played for time. Admitted nothing, but hinted that I'd simply - in effect - borrowed the money and that if the worst came to the worst, I could touch Lord Gralam for a loan. Meanwhile, I hoped something would turn up. Shades of Mr Micawber. I hadn't given up on Charles Kavanaugh's money - especially if you could turn the screw on the Blackhurst woman's lawyers. As a last resort, I'm ashamed to say I hadn't ruled out the possibility of borrowing from Inge. But then Luke died.'

‘A lucky break.'

‘Don't sound so disapproving, Harry. It doesn't suit you. I can't deny that when I heard the news, I breathed a sigh of relief. Who wouldn't? I'm only flesh and blood. I thought I'd escaped scot free - and so I had until I got careless and allowed that photographer to snap me at the Pool Theatre.'

‘The euphoria of the occasion,' Inge said with a giggle.

‘Exactly, darling. I was so excited - I got carried away. Do you know, for a time I almost thought I
was
the honourable Matthew Cullinan.'

‘Darling, shall I tell you something? I'm glad you're not.'

They gazed lovingly at each other and Harry stood up. ‘I have to be going.'

‘You will - speak to Frances?' Gary asked.

‘Yes, I hope to see her this evening.'

‘Fine. Thanks. I'm sure she'll understand when you explain the position to her.' He beamed. ‘So all's well that ends well, eh?'

‘Oh yes,' Harry said. ‘Except for Roy and Luke Dessaur.'

Chapter 21

Frances was singing an old Etta James number, ‘Waiting for Charlie to Come Home'. She invested it with infinite yearning and as Harry watched, her eyes met those of the piano player and the couple smiled at each other like lovers reunited after years apart.

They were in the lounge of the Hawthorne Hotel and sitting at the piano was Tim Aldred. Harry had arrived ten minutes earlier, in the middle of a Cole Porter medley and Frances had acknowledged him with a fractional nod of the head during ‘Love For Sale'. He had spoken to her on the phone earlier in the afternoon and arranged to meet her here. She had told him that she was performing, but had not mentioned the identity of her accompanist. Watching from the back of the room, Harry was struck by the delicacy of the big man's touch, the care which he took to ensure that the accompaniment did not distract attention from the vocalist. He had begun to realise that there was more to Tim than met the eye and, to judge by the look on her face, the same thing had dawned on Frances.