Half a Pound of Tuppenny Rice

by David Coubrough

  But still he required more answers. ‘Why did your father not press charges after your mother’s botched attempt at poisoning him?’

  Danny looked taken aback. ‘Why do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I could take a guess.’

  ‘Which is?’ pressed Danny.

  Grant knew he could be on thin ice now, but he skated on. ‘He knew he’d behaved very badly over the years and felt guilty about it – especially where the family was concerned.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t that. It was his role in Hector Wallace’s drowning.’

  ‘Which was?’ Grant had been waiting for this.

  ‘As I understand it, my father knew Hector was the sole beneficiary of his Aunt Agatha’s estate. Dad had been hit very hard by his collapsed building project in Penzance, and that night in the pub he tried to get Hector to put his future inheritance into a dodgy scheme he was pioneering. He also saw it as an opportunity to get Ivan Youlen off his back. He knew Ivan was still very angry about his failure to pay Sandersons and the subsequent liquidation of the firm, which left his father Dickie unpaid and out of work. He feared what Ivan might do. So ripping off some of Hector’s inheritance would have settled a few scores.’

  ‘So this investment. Was it a Ponzi scheme?’

  ‘That sort of thing, and he persuaded Ivan and Trevor Mullings that they would each receive a considerable sum of money if they could help him achieve his goal. After excessive drinking in the pub, it all got out of hand, culminating in Mullings and Hector taking messages in bottles on to the beach. Mullings had apparently persuaded Hector that if they wrote their messages in blood the Mermaid of Zennor would await them in the sea. It was all potty, of course, but they were as legless as the mermaid Hector was swimming after. Dad would have been the only one who wasn’t pissed. He usually drank weak shandies in pubs. At that time he never lost control. His drinking problems came later.’

  At this point Danny saw he had another message from Ivan, saying, ‘Please call. URGENT.’

  His friends agreed that he should ring Ivan back. Just then Grant saw he had two text messages of his own, from Caroline and Justyn. The former simply said, ‘Sorry, Phoebe taken ill at school. Have to collect her. Are you OK? Do you want me to call the police?’ Grant decided to share this with them. Suzie reassured Grant that Caroline had been entirely uninvolved in their conspiracy; she had acted merely as a facilitator to help with meetings between Suzie and Grant.

  ‘I never suspected otherwise,’ said Grant, who then read Justyn’s text: ‘Are you OK? Henry tells me you are getting grief from Desperate Dan?’ He decided not to share this message in its entirety but explained that it was Justyn checking that he was OK. Grant replied to both messages, telling Caroline and Justyn not to worry.

  Meanwhile Danny called Ivan, who answered immediately.

  ‘It’s Trevor, Trevor Mullings. He’s got God.’

  ‘Is that a problem?’ asked Danny.

  ‘Well yes. He’s converted to being a Catholic and all that and tells me he must reveal everything at confession.’

  ‘I see. I’ll get back to you in five minutes.’ He turned to the other two, explaining the gist of the call.

  ‘Mullings must be silenced,’ stated Suzie so forthrightly that even Danny was shocked. She was turning into Catherine de’ Medici. ‘We have to arrange for him to have some sort of accident.’

  Grant was aghast, casting an anxious glance at her and thinking he was in the company of a psychopath. It was Danny who sought to rein her in. ‘Look, Suzie, these old sins have reaped a rotten harvest. We don’t want to create new ones.’

  ‘And we don’t want to start looking over our shoulders again,’ she retorted, regarding Danny dismissively. ‘Don’t you see, a confession from that idiot Mullings could jump-start a whole new investigation. With modern DNA and cold-case techniques Father’s name and reputation would get dragged into it, and your family’s role in all this would be questioned as well.’

  Grant realized what was at stake for her: her father’s legacy. He now comprehended that what this clinical, rather cold and highly efficient woman was most concerned about was her late parent’s reputation. He found it vaguely touching but delusional. He considered giving her a reality check, making her aware that her damned father, so exalted in her eyes, was the cause of the ruin of his parents’ marriage. He couldn’t clear his mind of Richard’s ultimatum, delivered on the telephone to his mother with his brother in earshot and his poor father facing his final curtain. He said quietly to Danny, ‘What was it you said about “old sins reaping a rotten harvest”?’

  ‘What’s your point?’ Suzie shot back.

  ‘My point is that your sainted father has a lot to answer for.’ Grant spat the words out and let them hang in the air, waiting for reprisals but feeling much better for saying the one thing he truly believed.

  Suzie looked stunned and was about to let rip when Danny stepped in to play peacemaker. ‘Look, we’ve got to call Youlen. What do we say?’

  Yet again, Grant was impressed at Danny’s improved demeanour. ‘Danny, I have to ask you a personal question.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘How come you’ve been so unpleasant to me of late but now you seem more like the old Danny?’

  Danny gave him a half-smile. ‘Ah,’ he said, maintaining a steady look, while wanting to stay onside with Suzie. ‘It’s OK. I know what you mean, Grant. Ever since we met at the Spurs match in early May I’ve been trying to put you off. I’ve been playing a role. I had to keep it up. I knew you were seeing all the others – Caroline, Jenny and Nick, Justyn and Henry. I wanted them all to think I was a hard man so you would get the same message back all the time. Oh, by the way, did you enjoy your lap-dancing adventure with Justyn that night? The clergy seemed to amuse you, but you didn’t half look sad in that casino!’

  While relations between Danny and Grant were thawing, Suzie stared at both of them. She wasn’t too keen on this turn of events. Much as she had adored Danny, she was frustrated by his homosexuality, which had ended their relationship, and now she was concerned that he was dropping his guard too quickly. ‘How are we going to silence Mullings?’ she fired with the rhythm of a machine-gun burst.

  ‘Pay him off?’ suggested Danny.

  ‘He’ll turn it down. If he’s got religion he’ll probably come out with some ideological crap about having visions of angels telling him not to accept unclean money,’ she retorted with all the cynicism she could muster.

  Wow, she’s a hard cookie these days, thought Grant. Scratch the surface and you’ll find cold steel.

  ‘We’ve got to see him,’ she continued.

  Grant was glad now to be included in their future strategies, but privately he was harbouring doubts. He had no desire whatsoever to be drawn into Suzie’s dark world, and his improving relationship with Brigit was his main priority. His sabbatical from Gilks and Silkin was due to end the following month, and he knew he had to get back to real life as quickly as possible. At dinner with Brigit they had both laughed about his obsession, and he believed he was in sight of closure. But that was before this morning’s extraordinary events. He had gone from feeling he was a victim in a terrorist plot to moving in with his kidnappers, becoming sympathetic to their cause and going native in a Patti Hearst sort of way. He quietly resolved that he must extricate himself. He had discovered what he needed to know. His mother’s role in events had been clarified, and it was time for him to move on and get back to the family home as soon as possible.

  ‘You can count me out,’ he announced, to the surprise of the other two. ‘I can understand you needing to go on, but this whole episode has taken quite a toll on me. It has affected my personal life, and I haven’t worked for three months. I am driving my sister-in-law crazy living with her and Glen – you remember my kid brother? My friends think I’ve gone cuckoo, and I’ve found out what I needed to know.’

  Suzie fixed her hard stare on him. ‘Well, goodbye, Mr Bleeding Heart
. We go on, don’t we, Danny boy? We’ll have to see the weasel Mullings ourselves.’

  ‘Yep,’ replied Danny a little weakly. ‘And probably Youlen as well.’

  And so, after three hours at Suzie’s aunt’s flat, Grant said his goodbyes and shook hands with Danny, having rekindled some of the friendship they had enjoyed in childhood. He was never to know whether Suzie would have accepted a farewell kiss, as her aunt’s keys were heard rattling at the front door at that moment. Mary looked extremely dishevelled for someone who had just had her hair done, and Grant smiled to himself as he registered that this was another deception in the elaborate hoax to which he had been subjected. It no longer mattered; he left the flat with a lightness of spirit he had not experienced for some years, and as he went to find his car he punched the air and released a loud ‘Yes’, the like of which he had last emitted when Jonny Wilkinson had kicked the famous drop goal to win the Rugby World Cup for England in Australia in 2003.

  38

  PRESENT DAY

  ‘Disaster!’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Disaster!’ repeated Caroline.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Grant, ‘what’s all this about?’

  ‘This could be totally disastrous.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because Danny has a gun, and, for all I know, Suzie may have access to one, too. She certainly had one in Cape Town, and her father used to keep one over here.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So I’d say there’s a reasonable chance that one or other might use a gun in Cornwall.’

  Grant considered this for a moment and decided that Caroline might be right, however far-fetched the idea might appear. ‘So what do we do?

  ‘When did they leave?’

  ‘Yesterday afternoon at around three. They should be there by now.’

  ‘Actually Suzie phoned last night to thank me for setting things up with you. She told me about their trip to Cornwall and said they were meeting Ivan at his cottage in Mevagissey tomorrow at midday. I gather they were staying over in Somerset on the way, at the Castle Hotel in Taunton. Danny is driving an electric car, giving it a road test to decide whether it’s something he wants to deal in, and the Castle has a battery-recharge facility. So we’d better get down there.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘To Cornwall, you dunce.’ Caroline was really fired up. Grant had not wanted to hear any of this. He had moved on, discovered what he needed to know. He had high hopes of meeting Brigit later that day and moving back into the family home. He really didn’t need or want any further distractions.

  ‘Look, Caroline, Suzie and Danny have their own reasons for pursuing matters. I don’t any more. I’m satisfied with the truth of what happened.’

  ‘Grant,’ – her voice sounded urgent – ‘they’re going into the lion’s den, and they may be armed. This could be catastrophic. We have to get down there as well.’

  He considered her words for a while. He really wanted out, to resurrect his marriage with Brigit and to have his life back with her and the girls as a united happy family. He never asked himself why Caroline felt so strongly that both of them needed to get down to Cornwall.

  ‘OK,’ he said after a pause, ‘let’s drive down, but that’s the end. There’s a fork in the road ahead, and I intend to let it go, leave it all behind.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. OK,’ replied Caroline. ‘Where can I meet you? I’m sure Stuart will let me take the Porsche.’

  ‘Let’s meet at Fleet Motorway Services on the M3 at ten tomorrow. Then we can avoid the M4 and M5 by taking the A303, picking up A30 near Exeter. Do you mind driving on from Fleet?’

  ‘No, of course not. That’s brilliant, darling.’

  ‘When Suzie was on the phone to you, did she say anything about our discussion yesterday?’

  ‘No, what was it about?’

  ‘I’ll tell all before we get there.’

  ‘I can’t wait.’

  Suzie and Danny had stopped at the elegant Castle Hotel in Taunton and enjoyed a fine dinner accompanied by two bottles of Mâcon. He had surprised her with his relaxed manner and his enjoyment of the elegant surroundings, even though he had been taken aback by her booking a double room in the sumptuous Garden Suite.

  During dinner he couldn’t resist raising the subject of the double bed.

  ‘What of it?’ said Suzie, shrugging dismissively.

  ‘Well, you know. You’re married to Frank.’

  ‘And I would much rather be married to you, but as that isn’t possible I’ll just have to content myself with a cuddle tonight.’ Suzie embellished the word ‘cuddle’ with air-quotes, fingers flapping by her ears.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit improper?’ Danny asked, ignoring Suzie’s diversion.

  ‘Danny boy, you were – and are – the love of my life. It’s not my fault or yours that …’

  ‘Yeah, OK, right, whatever. We’ll have that cuddle, but you won’t convert me …’

  He was sure he heard a sigh followed by ‘If only …’ but in truth they were both a little intoxicated.

  Relaxing in their room after dinner, they found a television channel featuring a Nina Simone concert – she was performing ‘To Love Somebody’. Suzie stared unnervingly at Danny as Nina ripped into the chorus: ‘You don’t know what it’s like, baby. You don’t know what it’s like to love somebody.’ For the first time there was a palpable tension between them. Danny now also knew the role reversal was complete. Gone was his tough-boy-on-a-mission persona; he knew Suzie had taken control, much to his discomfort.

  They arrived in Cornwall around eleven the following morning and checked into a B&B in Veryan. Their meeting with Ivan, at noon at his Mevagissey cottage, was already confirmed.

  Meanwhile Grant and Caroline were about three hours behind, having met up at Fleet. They had discussed whether to ring the other two to advise them of their imminent arrival, calculating they should arrive about an hour after Suzie’s and Danny’s appointment with Ivan. Grant knew where the cottage was, up a cobbled street facing the harbour. Mevagissey had been the smuggling capital of Cornwall so it seemed appropriate that Ivan, dodgy as he was, should choose to live there.

  As Grant drove along, he thought of Rudyard Kipling’s poem ‘The Smugglers Song’, and some of the lines kept coming back into his head.

  ‘If you wake at midnight,

  And hear horses’ feet,

  Watch the wall my darling,

  While the gentlemen go by.’

  Grant couldn’t recall the exact words and refrained from sharing the poem with Caroline. He turned his thoughts to the problems of parking, as there was little chance of leaving the car anywhere near the cottage. This didn’t worry him unduly, as he knew there was a car park on the left just before arriving in Mevagissey – and that was no more than ten minutes’ walk from the cottage. The dwelling was up a little road to the left. A large black iron anchor was to be found outside number 83, a convenient cue to turn left again and approach Ivan’s house, number 85, via a small square. The house was off the beaten track and out of sight of the harbour. He and Caroline had agreed that if she provided the vehicle and drove them down there, he would book and pay for their accommodation, and he knew exactly where that would be: a B&B near St Austell.

  Caroline was driving Grant in her husband Stuart’s Porsche, faster than she had ever driven in her life, skilfully slowing down for the speed cameras and hitting the accelerator pedal where there was none. ‘Wheels on Fire’, which Grant thought theirs probably were, blasted them on their way as they sped past Stonehenge. They remained silent, deep in thought, until they approached Exeter. Earlier in the journey Grant had revealed what had taken place at Suzie’s aunt’s flat. Strangely, Caroline absorbed it all in almost total silence, giving only the odd grunt here and there to indicate that she was listening. It wasn’t until they were close to Bolventor, crossing Bodmin Moor, that Grant reopened the conversation.

  ‘How d’you know Danny has a gun?’

/>   ‘Suzie told me some years ago. He keeps it for protection in his desk in his office at the car dealership. I gather there was once a nasty incident.’

  ‘And what on earth makes you think that she might be carrying one?’

  ‘Well, she told me that she and Frank have a firearm at their home in South Africa. Despite living in a gated community with razor wire surrounding the garden, they reckon it isn’t sufficiently secure. I’ve an idea she keeps one in England as well. I seem to remember her saying something about inheriting her dad’s Colt 45 after he died and leaving it in the UK. Didn’t you go to their house in Cape Town?’

  ‘No, we met on the harbour front for lunch and then walked round some gardens.’

  ‘Kirstenbosch?’

  ‘Yes, that was it. Anyway, why do you think she or Danny might use a gun on Youlen or Mullings?’

  ‘Think of the lengths the two of them went to put you off.’

  ‘They certainly worked up quite a hoax.’

  ‘They were determined to stop you.’

  ‘Did you know?’

  ‘No, I didn’t, but I’ve pieced it all together now, and I know nobody goes to such lengths without having something pretty terrible to hide.’

  ‘Well, it seems to me’, Grant slipped into legal-summary mode, ‘that Danny’s sole concern was to protect his mother while Suzie seems fixated on preserving her late father’s so-called good name and legacy.’

  ‘That’s about the size of it. From Danny’s point of view, there’s a lot to keep quiet about to protect his mother, not least the attempted murder of Paul.’

  ‘Did you know Danny was gay?’

  ‘I knew it was why the wedding was cancelled. Suzie phoned me the weekend before to tell me it was all off, as I was going to be a bridesmaid. We always remained in touch. And I have my own reasons for staying close to her.’

  ‘How sad for all concerned,’ Grant reflected. ‘So what’s the big deal with Richard Hughes-Webb’s legacy?’

  ‘Well, Suzie always adored her father. She saw him as a god. She thought he could stop the rain and bring the sun out into the sky. She even followed him into the medical profession. More significantly, she felt that he never got the credit he deserved for his research into heart disease.’