by Susan Lewis
‘Why don’t you let her decide? She’s not a child any more. When are you flying out?’
‘Next Tuesday. It’s a fascinating and worthwhile project he’s working on that I might be interested in supporting.’
Deciding not to remind him of how negligent he’d been of his children’s projects during the time he’d walked out of their lives to go and find himself, she said, ‘Well, I hope you have a lovely time.’
‘Why don’t you come along? You’re an animal lover …’
‘Martin, just stop. It isn’t going to happen and you’re making it harder for everyone, the way you keep trying to use the children to bring us together.’
‘It’s what they want.’
‘No it isn’t, and anyway, it’s not about them, it’s about me and what I want, which is for you to understand that I’m in another relationship now, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.’
Chapter Seven
Early the next morning DC Leo Johnson rang Andee with the information she had requested about the Mercedes.
‘I don’t know how helpful this is,’ he told her, ‘but the vehicle’s registered to a chauffeur-drive company in Knightsbridge. I’ll text the address and phone number when we finish this call. I’ve also taken the liberty of looking into the company’s ownership. It’s a couple of blokes with the same family name, Balodis, so I’m guessing they’re brothers, or father and son, something along those lines.’
‘It doesn’t sound English.’
‘Your guess is as good as mine. I’ll text the correct spelling with the other details when we finish the call.’
‘Thanks. I take it Gould has already filled you in on things?’
‘Some, and it’s just about blowing my mind. I guess it must be having the same effect on you, times ten.’
‘Something like that. Can I ask another favour while you’re on?’
‘Sure, shoot.’
‘Can you get hold of a copy of the inquest report on John Victor?’
‘Your uncle?’
‘That’s him. I’ll text the dates and details I know. In addition to that, can you find out if he had any kind of police record, where he lived at the time of his death, what he did for a job, who his friends or associates were. Anything you can dig up that may or may not seem relevant.’
‘I’ll get back to you as soon as I have something.’
By ten thirty Andee was on a train to London, knowing that to get the kind of information she was after from Exclusive Chauffeur Drive she’d stand a far better chance if she turned up in person than if she tried to do it on the phone. Even so, it probably wouldn’t be easy, since it was highly likely Penny had guessed she’d have the Mercedes traced, and had briefed the company to expect her. Had she needed to do that? There was simply no way of knowing.
A quick Google search had told her that the name Balodis was Latvian, which might have been the language Penny had used during her first visit. Since Andee knew not a single word of it herself, she had no way of recognising it.
It was after midday by the time the train pulled into Paddington, spilling fast-moving wheelie bags and important owners on to the platform to begin a race for the Tube, taxis and buses. As she moved with the crowd Andee was remembering what a thrill it gave her as a small child to come to this station; she’d always felt sure she’d spot her favourite bear if she looked hard enough.
She and Penny had had Paddingtons when they were young; she remembered them swapping bears because Penny had decided Andee’s was bigger, or cuter, or more cuddly, or something that had made it better than hers.
‘She’s just a baby,’ their mother had said when Andee had tried to hang on to hers. Penny had been two or three at the time. ‘You don’t mind swapping really.’
Strange the things that came to mind that had never seemed to have much significance before. She wasn’t sure this memory did now, apart from the fact that it was an early example of Penny coveting what was hers, this time viewed in a different light thanks to recent events.
Since she was wearing flat shoes and carrying a light bag she decided the sunshine was too good to miss, so she set out on foot for Knightsbridge. On reaching Hyde Park she started across the grass, weaving amongst sunbathers and strollers, while trying, not very hopefully, to get hold of Penny.
To her amazement she got an answer on the third attempt.
‘Andee! What a lovely surprise. How are you?’
Adjusting rapidly, Andee said, ‘I’m fine. Actually, I’m in London, and I was hoping we could meet.’
Seamlessly, Penny said, ‘Gosh, that would have been lovely, but even as we speak I’m on my way to Heathrow.’
‘I see.’ Why wasn’t she surprised? ‘Where are you going?’
‘To the States. I’m afraid we have some clients who are in a bit of a state and it’s my job to go and calm them down. But I should be back in a couple of days. If you’re still around I’d love to see you.’
‘I’m just here for the day. I was wondering when you were going to be in touch with Mum again.’
‘Soon. Very soon. I just need to get this problem sorted first. It’s such a pity you’re going home today. I’d have offered you my apartment if you were going to stay longer, except it’s having a makeover at the moment. However, I have a suite at a very nice hotel on Buckingham Palace Road. You’re more than welcome to use it if you change your mind and decide to hang out in town for a while.’
‘That’s kind of you, but not this time, thanks.’ During the awkward pause that followed Andee’s gaze fell on a stray cat, wending its way through the bushes at the edge of the park. ‘Tell me something, do you know what happened to Smoky the kitten?’
With a sad-sounding sigh, Penny said, ‘Oh dear. Poor Smoky.’
Since that wasn’t an answer, Andee waited.
‘It was your fault, of course,’ Penny told her. ‘You shouldn’t have tried to take him away from me.’
Andee’s insides knotted. She had no memory of that, could barely remember the cat at all. ‘So what did you do?’ she asked, certain she didn’t want to know the answer.
Without sounding in the least perturbed, Penny said, ‘I broke his neck.’
Andee was sitting on a bench in the shade of a towering horse chestnut, still shaken by Penny’s admission and needing to try and deal with it somehow. ‘Mum, it’s me,’ she said when her mother answered the phone.
‘Hello darling, are you there yet?’ Maureen asked.
‘Yes, I’m in Hyde Park. I’ve just spoken to Penny.’
Her mother’s voice lost its buoyancy. ‘Did she ring you?’ she said.
‘No, I rang her and this time she answered. Apparently she’s on her way to the States, but that’s not the reason I’m calling. I asked her about the kitten and she said … Did I try to take it away from her?’
‘No, but the kitten seemed to prefer you and I suppose …’
When her mother didn’t continue Andee said, ‘She told me she broke its neck.’
When Maureen remained silent Andee’s eyes closed at the gruesome, stomach-turning picture of a nine-year-old girl, her own sister, ending a kitten’s life with her bare hands. ‘How could she have done it?’ she whispered incredulously.
‘I don’t know,’ Maureen replied. ‘It was very upsetting, a horrible, horrible shock when I found it.’
‘Did you ever talk to her about it?’
‘No, because I didn’t want to accuse her in case she hadn’t done it.’
‘But you felt sure she had?’
‘I kept trying not to believe it.’
Andee took a breath. ‘Did she ever do anything else like that?’
‘I don’t know. I … There were things … She was always jealous of you, kept convincing herself that people preferred you to her.’
… sometimes I hate her for being so much better than I am at everything. No one ever seems to notice me when she’s in the room. It’s like I become invisible …
Andee
felt her head starting to spin. ‘How come I never realised any of this?’ she asked bleakly.
‘I think you did on one level, but you were older, more confident, and I guess you treated it more as an irritant than anything to be taken too seriously.’
Which would only have made it worse for Penny.
So was she responsible for Penny abandoning her family and putting her parents through utter hell?
No, only Penny could be responsible for that. She, Andee, wasn’t going to fall into the trap of blaming herself, or of allowing Penny to get to her, however hard she tried.
A few minutes after ringing off from her mother she was updating Graeme. ‘When I met with Gould yesterday,’ she said, ‘he suggested a couple of motives for why people do things, the first being money, the second passion. There are others, of course, including revenge, and I’m wondering if that might be what’s behind Penny’s return.’
The possibility of it silenced him.
Hearing herself say it silenced her, too.
‘But for what?’ he protested.
‘I don’t know. Imagined wrongs … The way her mind works, it’s … well, it’s different … I just can’t get a handle on what might be going on with her.’
‘But to have held a grudge for so long? You know, I’m really not liking the sound of this. You need to speak to Gould again.’
‘Perhaps she decided to punish us by staying away. Punish us for what, I’m still not sure. I’m not sure about any of this to be honest, but right now I’m going to see what I can find out at this chauffeur company.’
Exclusive Chauffeur Drive was at the end of a smart cobbled mews close to Belgrave Square, with vivacious begonias spilling from pots each side of its front door, and a small brass plaque bearing its name in elegant script above the bell. The opaque bay window to the right of the door glowed like cloudy silver in the afternoon sun, while what had once been an old-fashioned carriage entrance was now an olive green, square-panelled up and over garage door. It was closed, so it wasn’t possible to see what vehicle, if any, was inside, but the garage didn’t appear big enough to hold much more than a Smart and a motorbike.
Andee pressed the bell and glanced up and down the exclusive, quaintly crooked street. No one was around; it was as quiet as a rural idyll, right here in the middle of town. So quiet that she almost jumped as a voice came from a hidden intercom inviting her in.
Spotting a surveillance camera tucked under the guttering two floors up, she stepped into a postage-stamp lobby with a door to the right marked Private, another to the left signalling the garage, and a staircase straight ahead with a sign directing visitors up to reception.
‘Hello,’ a cheery female voice shouted down, ‘have you been here before? If not, we’re upstairs; if you have you know the way.’
The first level, with its surprisingly high ceiling and pale carpeted floors, turned out to be mostly open-plan, with a chic leather-fronted welcome desk, three arty sofas arranged around a glass and steel coffee table, a small bar with tall stools, and a large cardboard cut-out of an S class Mercedes.
‘Hi, welcome to Exclusive, it’ll be a pleasure to serve you in any way we can,’ the beautiful, sparkly-eyed receptionist gushed. From her Slavic features and marked accent Andee guessed her to be Polish, and in spite of the sober dove-grey suit over a white silk shirt, she gave off the air of a mischievously happy life-lover. ‘My name is Martyna,’ she declared. ‘Is it permitted to ask yours?’
Andee gave her name as Jenny Leonard, waited as Martyna repeated it, and was about to say more when a door behind the reception desk opened and a portly man with slicked-back hair, narrow eyes and a gold-glinting smile came out to greet her.
‘Oto Balodis, at your service,’ he told her, holding out a hand to shake. His grip was firm and cool, his smile was warm. ‘Please tell us how we may best assist you, Ms Leonard.’
Deciding she wouldn’t want to meet him on a dark night, Andee said, ‘Actually, I’m hoping you can help me to find someone.’
He appeared surprised and intrigued. ‘Please, take a seat,’ he offered, directing her to the sofas. ‘Martyna will bring us some refreshment.’
‘Thank you,’ Andee said as she sat down. ‘Water will be fine for me.’
After nodding in Martyna’s direction, Balodis said, ‘So who is it you’re looking for? Of course we will do our best to help.’
So gracious, and yet Andee could sense a certain wariness gathering. ‘Well, it’s the strangest thing,’ she said chattily, ‘but I was in the South of France recently, L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue to be precise, when I saw an old friend of mine in the back of a Mercedes. She saw me too, but the traffic was crazy that day so she couldn’t stop. Fortunately I managed to get the registration number of the car, and an old colleague of mine at the DVLA did me the favour of giving me your address. I hope you don’t mind.’
Balodin’s narrow eyes turned to slits. ‘No, of course not. As I said, we are happy to help.’ Funny, but he wasn’t sounding all that happy.
‘Here’s the number,’ Andee said, handing him a piece of paper. ‘And the date I saw the car. My friend and I go back a long way. It’s a real shame that we lost touch, our families were very close, but you know how these things happen. Time goes on, people get busy …’
Balodin was passing the registration number to Martyna.
Taking it, Martyna began entering it into the computer.
All charm again, Balodin said, ‘I’m sure you understand that we can’t give out our clients’ details. It would be highly unethical and against all our principles. It is a very exclusive service that we operate here.’
Andee mimicked crestfallen. ‘I was afraid you’d say that, it’s just that I have something of hers that I’d really like to return.’
‘Perhaps you can leave it with us and we’ll pass it on. This is presuming the registration belongs to one of our cars, of course.’
Certain he already knew that it did, Andee grimaced. ‘I don’t have it with me, I’m afraid, and I’d really rather do it myself.’
Martyna said, ‘According to our records, that car was in London on the date you’ve given me.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Andee said dolefully. However, since learning there was a chauffeur service involved, it had already occurred to her that the car she’d seen outside Briar Lodge might not be the same one Penny had used in France. ‘Well, my friend’s name is Michelle Cross …’
Balodin was getting to his feet. ‘I’m afraid we do not have any clients by that name,’ he interrupted.
‘Perhaps the booking was in a company name,’ Andee suggested.
Balodin said, ‘Forgive me for repeating myself, but we are not in a position to discuss our clients.’
Intrigued by the brush-off, Andee stood up too. ‘I guess she must be a client if she was in one of your cars …’
‘But the car wasn’t in France that day,’ he reminded her, ‘so you must be mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am due at a meeting in a few minutes. It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, and I’m very sorry that we haven’t been able to help.’
Finding herself already on the stairs, Andee reassured him again that she understood his situation, and after thanking him for his time she took out one of Jenny’s business cards. ‘When you next speak to Michelle,’ she said, ‘would you mind giving her this?’
‘As I said, we have no clients by that name.’
She watched him look at the card.
‘Interior design?’ he queried.
Andee smiled. He’d obviously been no more convinced by her claim to an old friendship than she had by him apparently running an everyday chauffeur service. However, the card had momentarily thrown him. ‘If you’re ever looking for anyone,’ she offered.
He nodded distractedly and after asking Martyna to see ‘our guest’ out, he returned to his office.
‘I probably shouldn’t tell you this,’ Martyna whispered as they stepped outside the front door, ‘but it w
as one of our cars you saw in France, just not that one.’
Smiling her appreciation, while feeling certain the girl had been instructed to pass on the information, Andee said, ‘And the client inside was Michelle Cross?’
Martyna shook her head. ‘Not according to the file.’
Intrigued, Andee said, ‘So who was it?’
Martyna glanced over her shoulder. ‘I really shouldn’t tell you …’
Going along with what she felt sure was a charade, Andee said, ‘I’m just an old friend attempting to renew contact. I promise, I’m not out to cause trouble.’
Martyna dropped her voice again. ‘She’s a regular client of ours. Her name is Andrea Lawrence, so you see it couldn’t have been your friend.’
Andee stared at her hard. Penny was using her name to … To what? And did this girl know that she aka Jenny Leonard was the real Andrea Lawrence? ‘Well, whoever Andrea Lawrence is,’ Andee said, managing to sound no more than chatty, ‘she looked very like my friend.’
‘I’m sorry if you’ve had a wasted journey,’ Martyna said, seeming to mean it.
‘Oh it hasn’t been,’ Andee assured her. ‘It was lovely meeting you. Have you worked here long?’
‘Almost seven years. Actually, it was Mrs Lawrence who helped me to get my job. It’s fantastic what she does. She helps so many people. I would not be where I am if it weren’t for her. None of us would, including my bosses.’
Deciding to be fascinated, Andee said, ‘So what does she do, Mrs Lawrence?’
‘As I said, she helps people. Ssh, I’d better go back inside, but I wanted you to know that you were mistaken about your friend. Such a pity, I do hope you find her.’
Andee thanked her and set off back to the station.
‘I have to admit,’ she told Graeme on the phone, ‘finding out that she’s using my name really blindsided me. That’s if she is. I’m pretty certain the receptionist was briefed to say what she did should I happen to turn up.’
‘To what end?’
‘I’ve no idea. The boss certainly didn’t want to discuss Michelle Cross. I’m guessing, when I mentioned the name, that was the moment he realised I was the person he’d been tipped off about.’
