by Agatha Frost
Peridale’s police at their finest.
Thankfully, their on-the-run patient hadn’t made it far. James leaned against the wall like his life depended on it, talking to Katie as she unlocked the café for the day.
“You have my word,” he said firmly. “The second this is all over, we’ll pick up where we left off. Which should be soon if . . .” He turned. “There you are. I was wondering if you were going to follow. Who’s driving?”
“Not you.” Julia pulled out her keys. “If we get to my car now, we might avoid the rain.”
Leaving Katie with a promise to explain later, she followed Barker as he helped James across the green. As much as she wanted to ask Katie about the bailiffs and check how she was feeling, getting to the bottom of this felt more useful. She hoped Barker was right about getting some answers. The sooner they did, the quicker they could put the manor behind them.
“You need to do some explaining on the way,” Barker said once the three of them were in the car. “What’s on that sheet of paper?”
“A company name,” he said from the back of the car as he pulled his seatbelt across his lap. “Does your café not make as much money as it looks? Or do you just like driving around in shoe?”
“The latter,” she said, narrowing her eyes on him in the rear-view. “And I prefer vintage.”
The engine started on the third attempt, just as a car door opened at the back. She expected to see James on another mad dash, but it was her gran joining them. Or was it Dot, PI, when she wore her navy trousers and red beret?
“Hospital, I assume?” she asked, snapping shut her seatbelt. “Wasn’t going to miss this one. Don’t worry, Percy’s got Olivia.”
Dot patted the back of Julia’s headrest, so she took the hint and eased the car into first gear. The rain started as they left the village, and nobody said much until they were on the motorway, heading towards a hospital Julia had never heard of. Private, she assumed. The sat nav knew where it was, though. She shouldn’t have expected they’d be going to the general NHS hospital in Cheltenham, but that’s where she’d been driving until James gave her the address.
“The company name?” Barker asked, turning in his seat. “Start talking, Jacobson. You’ve been giving me half the story since day one. In fact, that goes for the rest of your family, too.”
“The upper classes,” Dot announced. “Very private people.”
“We are, as it happens.” James eyed Dot. “My family, that is. I don’t really believe in classes.”
“Spoken like an upper-class person.”
“People take advantage,” he continued, ignoring her. “Right under my nose for years, apparently. The company name is Gilbert Holdings Limited. Doesn’t sound suspicious, right?”
“Sounds like any other company,” Julia said, eyes fixed on the road as rain pelted down on the windscreen. “What spooked you?”
“I’ll tell you when I’ve spoken to Mindy,” he said flatly. “The name jumped out at me when I was alone in the flat, poring over every detail. I’ll admit, I don’t keep as close an eye on my finances as I used to – but that’s why I pay someone to do it for me full-time. I can’t do everything.”
“Woe is me,” said Dot.
“Running an empire isn’t easy.”
“I suppose that’s why empires tend to fall.”
“And mine just might, if Gilbert Holdings Limited has anything to do with it,” he continued. “I remember now what I was doing last night. The police had just dropped my things off, and I was going through all my paperwork for the first time in a few months. With everything going on, I wanted everything in order in case they came for me in the night. The police, that is. Might have preferred that over a hammer . . .” He sighed. Eventually, he added, “I’m sorry. It’s been a lot to handle. I need a minute.”
For a few minutes, they let the silence sit. Julia checked on him once to make sure he was still conscious. Regardless of what anyone thought about him, nobody could deny that he had been through a lot. That he was standing – or sitting, rather – right now was a miracle.
Men like James really didn’t give up easily.
“Mindy’s been having fun with my card,” he finally continued as the rain calmed, breaking the silence. “Tens of thousands a week.”
“A week?” Dot cried. “Does she have an addiction to diamonds and rubies?”
“Designer bags don’t come cheap,” he said casually. “Never cared about the stuff myself, but she goes mad for it.”
“You always look expensive when I see you,” Julia said.
“I never said I didn’t wear it. My wife isn’t the only one with a stylist. Mine just doesn’t follow me around to dress me up like a doll every day.”
“If you’re that bothered, you could have cut her off,” said Dot.
“To be honest, she could be spending triple what she does, and it wouldn’t make a dent. It’s the principle. She thinks I have no clue what she’s up to, that my eye is so far off the ball that she can take, take, take right under my nose. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s selling half the stuff to get more cash out of me that way.”
Julia risked another quick glance at him through the mirror. A streetlamp blurred by, lighting up his bright red face. This was the first emotion he’d displayed regarding Mindy since his thrashing arrest at the garden party. Maybe he was just a private person. He hadn’t mentioned any affairs Mindy might or might not be having, so Julia wasn’t going to bring up the topic.
She couldn’t imagine a clever man like James not knowing. Then again, he didn’t know what a bank statement looked like, apparently.
“And this mystery company?” Barker repeated for a third time.
“Has been siphoning hundreds of thousands of pounds from my accounts,” he said darkly. “Funnelled into three companies I’ve never heard of. The same figures on the same days every week. One received £23,000 on Tuesdays. On Wednesdays, another got £45,000. Nothing on Thursdays, and then £53,000 to the third on Fridays. And the worst part is, I’ve no idea how long it’s been going on, but it’s present across the three months accounts I had on hand last night.”
“And you didn’t notice £121,000 leaving your account every single week this whole time?” Dot let out a dry laugh. “How much money do you have, exactly?”
“Enough,” he replied. “But last night, when I did notice, I started digging. They covered their tracks, but not that well. They all led back to a single parent company. Gilbert Holdings Limited.”
“And you think Mindy is behind it?” asked Julia.
“I’m certain,” he said, slapping his leg. “She must have found out about the divorce and everything I’ve been doing to protect myself.”
“And what have you been doing?” Barker asked.
“Offloading my assets.” Quickly, he added, “Everyone does it. She hasn’t lifted a finger to help build what I have, so I’ve been secretly squirrelling things away for a while. A business here, a property there. I have someone helping me be discreet about it all. It seems my dearly beloved has been doing the same.”
“If you hate each other this much,” asked Dot, “why keep up the pretence? Why even invite Mindy here in the first place?”
James took so long to answer that Julia checked the mirror to make sure he hadn’t passed out again. His eyes were firmly on the window, but he didn’t seem to be taking in the cars whizzing by.
“I had the foolish idea of turning the manor party into a mini-break away,” he said quietly. “I needed to be up here to meet with the council and sign for the manor. I’d never shown her where I grew up, so I had a silly notion that we could go back to my roots and connect. I tried on our first day here, but she was more bothered about having her hair dyed by that damn stylist my money’s paying to have follow her around.” He paused. “I’m pretty sure they’re getting it on behind my back, too.”
None of them said anything, and Julia was reminded of their discussion about the exact topic over breakfast. She blindly t
ook the sat nav’s direction off the motorway and onto a slip road as something James had just said niggled away at her.
“Ed dyed Mindy’s hair the day before the party?” she asked.
“Who’s Ed?”
Julia and Barker exchanged a glance.
“Her stylist?”
“Oh, is that his name?” He let out an obnoxious laugh. “I don’t know the man. I just see him around sometimes. Like I said, I’m busy. And I think so. That’s what it looked like anyway. She had strips of tin foil on her head.”
“Highlights,” Dot said, clicking her fingers. “That means Ed was lying. He did her hair, not some other hairdresser. He was lying about what you overheard.”
Julia thought he’d been rather harsh in his assessment of the work; she’d quite liked how the different shades of blonde had looked.
“Overheard what?” asked James.
“Ed threatened Mindy, saying he’d tell a man something.” Julia watched James’s reaction in the mirror; he frowned, and she knew he could easily put the pieces together. “We’ve tossed around a few theories, but if you think Mindy and Ed are doing more than highlights and makeup, it makes sense.”
Out loud and on paper, it did make sense, and nobody argued it. To Julia, however, the theory didn’t feel right. She suspected Mindy and Ed were nothing but employee and employer.
Ed and Richie, on the other hand? Now she was certain something was going on there. She wanted to voice her thoughts, but she didn’t want to create more of a divide between James and Richie; she didn’t know how much the father knew about his son.
Anyway, she wanted to see how this played out.
James hadn’t said as much, but it felt like he was leaning towards Mindy somehow being behind the shooting that had led to her own hospitalisation. Something about discovering Gilbert Holdings Limited had convinced him of it.
Technically, it didn’t invalidate the theory that the hammer-wielder and the shooter were the same person. Percy had confirmed that Mindy was still unconscious earlier that morning. That she was in the middle of the garden put her as out of the picture as Richie for pulling the trigger, but it didn’t mean she hadn’t put someone else up to it.
That person could have gone back unprompted to finish what they’d started. If Mindy was selling her handbags, a hitman was one thing to spend her money on.
A small building came into view, lit by a soft orange glow after the darkness of the tree-lined road. Clouds had swallowed up the morning light, not that grey skies stopped the old building being gorgeous. So gorgeous, Julia didn’t believe it was the hospital until she saw the sign: Blackmore Private Hospital.
“This is how the other half get sick?” Dot whistled her approval as Julia pulled into the suspiciously small car park. “Well, I never. How much does it cost to go this private?”
“Honestly?” James climbed out of the car. “I have no idea, lady.”
They followed James into the hospital. They garnered more than a few questioning looks as they weaved through the corridors, following the polite directions given by the man at the reception desk. From the outside, the building looked like a stately home, and very little had been done inside to suggest it was anything but. The utility of health care had been hidden. The doctors and nurses were as well-dressed as Julia had ever seen. The rooms she caught glimpses of as they walked through the halls looked more like hotel suites. And there weren’t many of them. The small car park outside made sense.
She could only imagine how much something so exclusive must cost. That James didn’t even think about it made her queasy.
“So, you lot don’t have lie-ins, either?” DI Christie announced as they turned down the corridor. “How is it you know where to be at just the right time?”
“Big ears, Detective,” said Dot.
“Big noses, more like.” Christie cast his critical gaze on James. “You know, I’ve got officers out there looking for you since you didn’t bother discharging yourself.”
Julia stepped into view of the open door. With no observation windows into the room, she made out only a sliver of Mindy through the gap. Half sat-up, she was pale, wan, and clearly in need of a shower. Her lips moved, but Julia couldn’t see who she was speaking with.
“I’m fine,” James protested. “Is she awake?”
“Barely,” Christie said, stepping up to match James. “You’re not going in there until my officers have taken her statement. We’re lucky we’re having this conversation with her at all. Most people don’t get shot in the torso and survive.”
“My wife’s not most people.”
“Regardless, go and wait your turn.” Christie pointed down the corridor. “’Round the corner, two doors down. Last I saw, Ruth and Richie were in there.”
In a panelled waiting room modelled after (or left to look) like a drawing room, Richie was slumped in a corner armchair by a bookcase, typing on his phone.
“Mrs Moneybags has gone to find a coffee machine,” he explained, sitting up as he let out a long yawn. “I thought they’d be all over a place like this.”
“Don’t call her that,” James said, his exasperation suggesting it wasn’t for the first time. “Aren’t you going to ask how I am, son? I was hit with a hammer yesterday.”
“How are you?”
“Splitting headache.”
James attempted to laugh, but Richie didn’t join in. He picked up his jacket and left. James moved as if to follow, but Julia forced him into a chair.
“You need to rest,” she insisted, noticing how pale and pasty he was starting to look. “I’ll go and talk to him.”
Julia left in time to catch Richie turning around the left corner. She followed him through the corridors, expecting him to turn around at any moment. He was too busy texting. The longer Julia left it, the more awkward she felt making her presence known. A dead end meant she didn’t have to.
“Are you following me?” Richie asked, tucking his phone away as he turned around. “I’m not going anywhere. I was just walking away.”
“From your father?”
“I guess.” Richie frowned. “Yours the same?”
“Used to be,” she said, nodding her head side to side. “Still is, sometimes. Tries his best, though. I can see your dad trying, Richie.”
“Better late than never, right?” Richie laughed, though his lacked the warmth of Julia’s. “You know he kicked me out when I was sixteen?”
Julia shook her head.
“If you ask him, the story will probably start when he ‘caught’ me kissing Chris Hawkes in the cellar at our New Year’s Eve party.” Richie clenched his jaw. “I was just doing what every other teenager was doing, but god forbid I be gay, right? And with the son of one of his top investors? Who will I pass the fortune down to if I don’t have children?”
Richie’s mocking tone couldn’t disguise the very real pain beneath it. She guessed he was around Jessie’s age. She’d first taken Jessie in when she was sixteen, just as Richie was being kicked out.
“I’m really sorry you had to go through that,” she said.
“He did me a favour,” he said, though his shrug was unconvincing. “I heard he lost that investor because of it. Last I heard, Chris was married with a kid. I could have done that too, but I was never one for the expected path. Besides, I landed on my feet in the end – until he reappeared just before Christmas last year. Said he’d watched a documentary about Pride.” Another bitter laugh followed. “Tears, apologies, begging for forgiveness, all of it. And then, before I know it, business plans, decisions, and I’m right back in the place I was trying to escape in the first place. So yeah, forgive me if I’m not jumping for joy that my father is finally taking an interest in my life.”
“It’s not your life if you’re living it for someone else.”
“You have to take opportunities when they’re in front of you.”
Julia couldn’t tell if these were his words or his father’s, but he sounded convinced by them. Aft
er another moment, they set off back to the waiting room. James was gone – off to talk to Mindy, no doubt. Barker was deep in the hospital’s brochure in one corner, so Julia and Richie sat on the opposite side of the room, by a large window that looked out onto a courtyard filled with flowers, beautiful even in the gloom.
“I need to ask you something,” Julia started softly when the boy was sitting. “Again. Do you have any idea who pulled that trigger? Or whether they wanted to kill your father or mother?”
“I still don’t.”
“What about Ed?”
Richie blushed.
“What about him?”
“You two seem close,” she said. “I saw him give you your jacket at the garden party.” She paused, his cheeks darkening further. “I don’t suppose you were supposed to meet Ed at the manor last night?”
Richie glared at her from under his brows, and for once, his eyes did look like his father’s. But then they crinkled at the corners and he laughed.
“Alright, I get the hint,” he said, seeming more relaxed. “It’s casual. I think he’s hot, and he’s romantic. He says it’s because he’s half-Italian, but I don’t know if that’s true.”
“Do you trust him?”
“Shouldn’t I?”
Julia’s gut instinct wanted to say ‘no, run for the hills,’ but she still had nothing concrete to go on, only a feeling based on little more than their first interaction. She shrugged and was glad when DI Christie entered the room.
“Is James still in there with Mindy?” Barker asked, abandoning the brochure and meeting him in the middle of the room. “I’d like to ask her a few questions before I go.”
“No to both,” he said, digging for his e-cigarette. “The second James started shouting, he turned purple and hit the floor like a sack of spuds. No better place to faint than a hospital, right?” He took a drag on the device. “He seems fine, by the way. Just got worked up screaming about some company. Gilligan’s Island something or other.”
“And Mindy?”
“Hysterical is the word for it,” he said, pocketing the device and exhaling the smoke. “Denying whatever he’s accusing her of got her in quite a state. The doctors aren’t letting anyone else in. She’s only just come round, and she barely has a clue what happened. Kid?” He patted Richie on the shoulder. “She was asking for you.”
