Vicious Circle (11 page)

After he had eaten he changed into a dark business suit and ordered the Bentley again. He liked driving it. It handled sweetly. He stopped over at the hospital and spent a stolen hour with Catherine.

She was getting more beautiful every day, he decided. When he was finally evicted from Maternity he went to see Doctor Naidoo.

‘When will you be able to discharge my daughter, Doctor?’

The doctor studied Catherine’s file. ‘She is doing very well. Have you made arrangements for her to be cared for, Mr Cross?’

‘Yes, I have.’

‘Yes, you have indeed. I understand you have hijacked one of my best nurses.’

‘Guilty as charged,’ Hector admitted.

The doctor looked sorrowful. ‘Okay. I am going to discharge your daughter tomorrow morning after my ward rounds. You can sign for her and take her away.’ As he walked out into the car park, Hector felt strangely elated at the prospect of having that tiny scrap of humanity being given into his care. Catherine was all he had left that was truly part of Hazel.

He took the London road.

*

Hector handed over the Bentley to the doorman at the side entrance to the Ritz and he ran up the steps to the hotel lobby. He paused in front of the concierge’s desk. There were three or four guests ahead of him waiting to see the concierge and he took his place at the back of the line. He glanced casually around the grand lobby and into the lounge.

The sacrosanct ritual of British afternoon tea was in full swing and the tables in the hotel lounge were almost all taken. Sitting on her own at a table facing the lobby was a woman. As his eyes passed over her, she stood up and looked directly at him. His gaze darted back to her. She was tall and strikingly beautiful. Her hair was glossy black, with russet highlights. Her eyes were wide set in a heart-shaped face. Even across the lounge he could see that they were green, sea-green, and serene. She walked towards him on long slim legs. Her pencil skirt was an inch above her knees. Her high heels accentuated the fine lines of her calves. Her hips were narrow but rounded. Her breasts were high and full under the tailored grey suit. She stopped in front of him and smiled. It was a reserved and guarded smile, but enough to reveal that her teeth were even and sparkling white. She held out her hand.

‘Mr Cross?’ she asked. ‘I am Jo Stanley.’ Her voice was soft and gently modulated, but her enunciation was clear and compelling. He took her hand.

‘Yes, I am Hector Cross. I am pleased to meet you, Miss Stanley.’

‘Mr Bunter is expecting you. May I show you up to the suite?’

There were others sharing the lift as they rode up, so they did not speak again until they stopped at the top floor. However, as they walked down the corridor and reached the double doors at the far end she touched his arm to detain him for a second and said quietly, ‘I am so very sorry about your wife. I knew her quite well. She was a wonderful person, so honest and strong. My heart bleeds for you.’

Hector saw that she meant every word and he was deeply touched. ‘Thank you. You are very kind.’

Ronald Bunter stood up from the sofa at the far end of the sitting room as they entered the suite. He was a small neat man with silver hair and gold-rimmed reading glasses. He was in shirtsleeves and he wore a pair of bright scarlet braces that were at odds with the rest of his sober attire. His expression was forbidding. Hector could barely suppress a smile as he recalled Hazel’s description:
A bunch of tight-assed lawyers with faces like piss-pots.
They shook hands and Hector caught the twinkle in Bunter’s pale eyes. Perhaps the dashing scarlet braces were indicative of his true nature.

‘Allow me once more to tender my condolences. These are tragic circumstances in which we meet, Mr Cross.’ He indicated the tabloid newspapers scattered on the table in front of him. Hazel’s photograph was on every front page. ‘And a grim business you and I have to deal with.’

‘Very kind and thoughtful of you, Mr Bunter.’

‘But before we proceed, first let me offer you some refreshment. Will it be tea or coffee?’

‘Coffee for me, please.’

‘For me too.’ Bunter glanced at his assistant. ‘Will you see to it please, Jo.’ While she phoned the order through to room service Bunter indicated the easy chair opposite him and Hector placed his briefcase on the table and sank into it.

‘I hope you will not object to my assistant being present during our meeting. I rely on her to keep accurate records of all that is discussed.’

‘Not at all.’

While they waited for the arrival of the room butler with the tea trolley they discussed the weather, which they agreed was very pleasant for this time of the year, and the run-up to the American presidential elections. Bunter was a solid Republican and Hector inclined more towards him. Jo poured the coffee and when they all had their bone-china cups Bunter looked across the table at Hector.

‘Shall we continue, Mr Cross?’ Bunter went on without waiting for his reply. ‘You are aware that I am the senior trustee of the Henry Bannock Family Trust in as much as I have the casting vote on the board?’

‘Yes, my wife explained that to me.’

‘Your wife was one of the beneficiaries of the Trust.’

‘How many other beneficiaries are there?’ Hector fired a ranging shot, and Bunter ducked it.

‘I am not at liberty to disclose that information.’ The twinkle was gone from his eyes and his expression was stony. Hazel had told him this would happen but he had to test it for himself. Bunter went on. ‘Your wife had the lifetime use of some of the Trust assets. Those do not form part of her estate. They must be returned to the control of the Board of Trustees.’

‘Yes, she warned me about that also. You will have my full cooperation.’

Bunter’s expression lightened slightly. ‘Thank you, Mr Cross. Would you also be able to provide us with a copy of Mrs Bannock-Cross’s death certificate? It would save a great deal of trouble.’

‘Yes, I can do that immediately.’ Hector opened his briefcase and took from it a transparent plastic folder. He extracted the document and slipped it across the table. Bunter perused it briefly.

‘You are very efficient, Mr Cross.’

‘I think you will also require the birth certificate of my wife’s daughter?’ Hector took another document from the plastic folder.

‘Thank you, but we do have originals of both Cayla Bannock’s birth certificate and her death certificate on file.’

‘No. I was not referring to Cayla Bannock. I was talking about Catherine Cayla Bannock-Cross.’

Bunter looked startled.

Score one to me, sir,
Hector thought with satisfaction. He guessed that it was not easy to win a point from this little man.

Bunter recovered swiftly. ‘I beg your pardon, but I do not follow you, Mr Cross. Your wife had only one daughter, surely?’

Hector enjoyed his discomfort for a few moments. Then he told him, ‘Five hours before my wife’s death she gave birth, by Caesarean section, to a baby girl. She wanted this child to be named Catherine Cayla. Here is Catherine’s birth certificate.’

Bunter reached across the table and took the document from his hand. He studied it avidly, muttering to himself. ‘Extraordinary. What a remarkable turn of events. A spark of beauty lighting for an instant the dun and gloomy clouds of tragedy.’ Then he looked up at Hector, and he actually smiled. ‘I do congratulate you as the father, Mr Cross.’

‘Thank you, Mr Bunter.’ Hector returned his smile, and then he felt a light touch on his arm. He looked down and saw that Jo Stanley had leaned forward and placed a hand on his forearm. ‘I am so very happy for you. I know that Catherine will be a great consolation for you,’ she said as if she truly meant it.

Bunter went on speaking. ‘This is of the greatest significance to the Trust. Catherine will be a full beneficiary.’

‘Even if she is not a blood relative of Henry Bannock’s?’ Hector was drawing him out again.

‘No doubt about it,’ Bunter said. ‘Henry was a remarkable man. One of the finest men I have ever known. There was nothing small or mean about him. From now on until the end of her days the Trust will be fully responsible for all your daughter’s needs, no matter how large or how small. You must send the invoices to us, and if you are unable to provide invoices then brief descriptions of her needs and an estimate of the cost will suffice. The Trust will reimburse you immediately. When she grows old enough to seek paid employment of any kind, the Trust will quadruple her earnings. This will apply for her entire lifetime.’

‘Yes, Henry Bannock was an impressive man. I met him on a few occasions in the line of duty. He gave me the job as head of security at Bannock Oil,’ Hector agreed.

‘Yes, I know. He mentioned your name. He liked you,’ Bunter replied.

‘That is truly gratifying,’ Hector said.

Bunter glanced at his wristwatch. ‘Twenty after six. I suppose it is still rather early, but shouldn’t we wet your daughter’s head to welcome her into this wicked world?’ He did not wait for a reply but turned to Jo Stanley. ‘Jo, my dear, I think I saw a bottle of Dom Pérignon in the minibar.’

Hector drank the flute of champagne slowly. The company was pleasing and he was reluctant to return to the empty hall. He was surprised when Bunter invited him to stay for dinner. The three of them dined in the splendour of the Ritz restaurant. Bunter was a gracious host; Jo Stanley was a good listener. It was not an occasion for merriment, but once she laughed at something Hector said, and her laughter was even more musical than her speaking voice. When Hector left, they both walked with him to the front door of the hotel. Although it had been a friendly dinner they were not yet on first-name terms. It was still Mr Cross, Mr Bunter and Miss Stanley.

When they shook hands Bunter told Hector, ‘Jo and I are flying back to Houston tomorrow, but remember I am always just a phone call away if Catherine Cayla should require anything.’

When Hector offered Jo Stanley his hand in farewell she took it without hesitation. Once again her beauty registered fleetingly in the recesses of his mind. But there was nothing subjective in it. It was like noticing a passing cloud or a blooming rose. The doorman was holding open the door of the Bentley for him. He turned away from her, slipped behind the wheel and drove away without looking back in the rear-view mirror.

*

The next morning Hector had with him Bonnie Hepworth and both the junior nurses when he arrived at the hospital in the Range Rover. They were fully equipped with carry cot, feeding bottles, packets of spare nappies and all the other paraphernalia necessary to support a single infant.

There was a small reception committee waiting for them in the maternity department. All the duty nurses had turned out to see Catherine off and to catch a last glimpse of her father. Hector carried his daughter out to the car with the rest of Catherine’s entourage trailing behind him. When they arrived back at Brandon Hall the entire household staff headed by Agatha and Reynolds were lined up under the portico to welcome them.

With appropriate ceremony Catherine was displayed to the company, and she immediately puked up half her bottle over her embroidered nightdress and the lapel of her father’s jacket. Hector was thoroughly alarmed and wanted to rush her back to the hospital. Nurse Bonnie managed to dissuade him.

‘That’s what babies do, Mr Cross.’

‘Well then, I wish she didn’t have to do it over me.’

Once Catherine was installed in her new quarters the big house came to life again with the constant excited bustle and the sound of female laughter. However, Hector seemed to stand apart from it all.

In her will Hazel had stipulated that in the event of her death she wished to be cremated as expeditiously as was possible. But the coroner would not release her body until the results of the post mortem examination were known. Hector lay awake at night tortured by images of the indignity and mutilation being perpetrated on the corpse of the lovely woman he would love for the rest of his life. It seemed an interminable wait, but eventually her remains were returned into his keeping.

Hector had wanted the cremation to be a very private ceremony but during the delay the news of her death had spread far and wide. Several hundred people had flown in from around the world to pay their last respects to her. In addition, the entire household staffs of both Brandon Hall and the Belgravia home wished to attend. The chapel was almost full. However, Hector was still trying to keep private the fact of the birth of Catherine Cayla. He left her in the care of her nurses.

Hazel’s coffin was closed. Hector had visited her in the funeral home the previous evening and he did not want her cold pale face exposed to all those curious eyes. He sat alone in the first row of pews. The chapel was filled with white arum lilies. A priest Hector had never met before read the service. Hector’s face remained expressionless as the clergyman pressed the button to send her coffin trundling along the conveyor and through the doors that slid aside to receive her. When the doors closed he stood up and walked back down the aisle. He looked straight ahead without acknowledging any other person in the crowded chapel.

That night he sat alone at the long dining-room table in Brandon Hall and drank two bottles of claret, seeking a state of oblivion. He remained sober but with every glass of wine he consumed his anger burned higher until it became a raging inferno that threatened to consume him.

*

When he awoke the next morning he was sober and he had his anger under control. He took three aspirin and cleaned his teeth vigorously, his cure for a hangover. He showered and dressed. Then he went down to his study. The maid had left
The Times
on his desk. It was lying face-up so he could read the front-page headline from across the room. For a moment he was frozen with horror, then he roused himself and crossed the study with a few quick strides. He snatched up the paper.

Murdered Woman Gives Birth On Her Deathbed

It has emerged that mortally wounded billionaire heiress Hazel Bannock-Cross gave birth to a daughter five hours before she died from an assassin’s bullet. The infant is in good health and was discharged last Thursday from the Royal Hampshire County Hospital in Winchester into the care of her father, Mr Hector Cross of Brandon Hall near Smallbridge in Hampshire …