False Impression

by Veronica Heley

  ‘Adamsson was a conscientious man. He said he’d been put in an impossible position, that he couldn’t go on working for my brother if he was refused contact. When he discovered that I, too, had been denied access, he saw no alternative but to resign. He was a valuable man. Perhaps rashly, I said that if he did resign I’d be happy to give him a job. He said nothing about going away on holiday. In fact, we agreed to meet this week when I returned from a business trip.

  ‘At that point I was still going back to the big house at night. My chauffeur had walked out on me, and I was driving the Rolls which Briscoe had set aside for my use. It developed a fault. I asked Denver to put the car in for repair and service and—’

  ‘Who’s Denver?’ said the inspector.

  ‘Head of security for Holland Holdings at the big house. He found me a courtesy car, but on Sunday afternoon it refused to start. I was due in Birmingham for meetings early on Monday morning so I decided to walk to the station. On the way I was nearly run over by a van. No, I didn’t get the licence number. It had gone by the time I’d picked myself out of the ditch. A van, dark blue or black. No obvious lettering on the side. The road was clear in either direction. It looked – felt like – a deliberate attempt to run me down.’

  ‘Did you report it?’ said the inspector.

  ‘I was in shock, and what proof did I have? A ruined overcoat and a twisted ankle? A dent in my briefcase? On the train to Birmingham I received a recorded phone message from Briscoe, alleging I was a traitor. He said I was not to return to the big house, that he was having my things packed up and so on and so forth. I couldn’t understand what was happening. Had he heard that Adamsson was proposing to resign and that I’d offered him a job? Did that amount to treachery? I contacted Adamsson to confirm our meeting—’

  ‘How did you contact him?’

  ‘By phone. He was on his way out somewhere so we didn’t have time to chat. He just said he was still on board for our meeting and rang off. I finished my business in Birmingham, and returning on the train on Tuesday morning I received a text message on my phone purporting to be from Adamsson, arranging to meet at his place. Arrived in London, I took a taxi out there, only to get another message rearranging the venue to the car park of the swimming pool. I took the taxi on and spotted his car in the car park. Unoccupied. I left in a hurry. The rest you know.’

  ‘Orlando?’ said Bea. ‘Your turn next.’

  ‘Well, I knew Adamsson, of course. My father was always praising him, saying Holland Holdings would have gone under without his expertise. He kept the books tickety-boo, stainless steel, pure as Simon.’

  Anna nodded. ‘I had some dealings with him when we took over the college, changing bank accounts, that sort of thing. Straight as a die.’

  Dilys said, ‘He was always kind to me. Lots of people used to look right through me, but he always had time for a word. He used to test my little Bernice on her multiplication times tables. I don’t think they bother with them so much in schools nowadays, but he encouraged her to learn them off by heart. He’s away on holiday, isn’t he?’

  Bea shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Orlando? The car park.’

  ‘Oh. Yes. My father and Mr Holland thought that Dilys and I would be well suited, and we were to try to make a go of it. If it didn’t work after six months they offered to set me up in my own business. So when I had a text from my father to meet him and Mr Adamsson I thought it was about that and I went along, a lamb to the slaughter, and …’ He told the rest, growing paler and paler as he did. He finished up by saying, ‘And no, I didn’t ring the police then, but I did make a report later.’

  ‘Now,’ said Bea, ‘we were led to believe that there were two people killed in the car park, but I think there were three, and that the third was Adamsson, because—’ She turned to the inspector.

  He picked up the tale. ‘Mrs Abbot asked me to check if a body had turned up which matched that of Mr Adamsson. And yes, there is. Fished out of the Thames, no ID. It may or not be the missing accountant. Mr Holland, why didn’t you use your phone to ring Adamsson in the car park and ask where he’d got to?’

  ‘I did. His phone was out of service. Also, the back offside window of his car was starred as if someone had tried to break it.’ He grimaced. ‘I’ve just realized. If Adamsson’s mobile was in his car or in his pocket at the car park, I’d have heard it ring and gone to investigate. Where was he? Hidden in the bushes?’

  ‘No, I think he’d been dumped in the boot of his car with a blanket or a sheet of plastic, perhaps, thrown over him before you got there. His phone must have been put out of action when he was killed … which means he was dead by the time you arrived.’

  Dilys said, in a tiny voice, ‘Was it all my fault? Were they killed because Daddy didn’t want to provide for me?’

  Bea said, ‘No, Dilys. Don’t beat yourself up. It had very little to do with you. This was a very careful and elaborate plot for money. Let’s deal with one of the red herrings, shall we? Margrete Walford. She went there for a tryst with her lover who worked at the pool. She chose to drive into that end bay because she didn’t want to be seen meeting him. Perhaps she drove in just as the killer was dealing with Lord Lethbury. She was killed because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

  Leon was frowning. ‘Our phones were tampered with. What about Lord Lethbury’s? Have the police checked?’

  Bea said, ‘I hope they have, but I think they’re diving down the wrong rabbit hole. Orlando, I know you’ve been through this before, but what else did you see when you were in the car park?’

  Orlando ruffled his hair. ‘I’ve already told you. I didn’t see anyone apart from Leon, until the woman arrived with her kiddies.’

  ‘There must have been some other vehicles there. Think!’

  He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. ‘I drove off the main road into the grounds of the swimming pool, which is set well back from the road in its own grounds. Straight ahead there were a couple of cars parked close to the steps leading up to the building. That’s the parking for people with disabled stickers. Over to the left was the coach park: kids were piling into a school bus as I arrived. I turned right, into the visitors’ car park. One way system. You drive along one lot of parking bays looking for a space. The bays are lined with hedges so you can’t see ahead or to either side. Just before the last bay you can turn left and left again – like the top of an inverted “U” – and motor back down through another set of bays till you’re back at the start. Each bay contains six cars, three on either side of the central traffic “lane”. I parked in the first bay nearest the road, got out and walked along looking for my father’s car. Mine was the only car there in that bay or the next … except for a dark-coloured SUV. No one in it.’

  Leon nodded. ‘Adamsson’s.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t have known it from Adam, would I?’ He squeezed his eyes shut. ‘I’m walking through the next bay now. An abandoned car, stickers on it, pigeon poo. Two more cars: nobody in them. One was a red sports car, the other an estate, I think. Next bay: empty? There was an old, rusty bicycle and a cart from a supermarket thrown into the hedge. Nothing else. Fourth bay: also empty. Then came the turning off to the left, but ahead of me I saw two cars in the end bay: my father’s and one other.’ His voice cracked.

  Bea prompted him. ‘What about the bays on the other side of the hedge?’

  He pulled at his lower lip, frowning. ‘Dunno. I have the impression there were a couple of other cars, perhaps. A flash of sunlight on metal? That sort of thing. Oh, and a cyclist. At least, I think it was a cyclist. I caught a glimpse of his helmet.’

  Bea sighed. ‘Ah, now I understand.’

  Orlando said, ‘I suppose it must have been a cyclist, because nobody else wears helmets like that, do they? He was in the parallel bay to the one in which I’d parked my car, but further away from the road.’

  ‘Age? Height? Dressed?’

  A shrug. ‘I don’t know, do I? Ly
cra, I suppose. I didn’t peer through the hedge to ask if he’d seen any murders lately. I was panicking, wanting to get away as fast as I could. I spotted Leon and hid till he’d gone. Then a family car drove in and parked near mine. Some kiddies got out with their mother and went up into the swimming pool. I waited till they’d gone, scrambled into my car and got out of there in a hurry.’

  The inspector pointed to Leon. ‘Close your eyes. Concentrate. Think back to when you were standing in the car park, seeing Adamsson’s car, noting that the back window had been damaged. Did you see the cyclist? Were there footsteps running away?’

  ‘No, no. Nothing like that.’ A shake of the head. A frown. ‘It was extraordinarily silent. It spooked me.’

  ‘You were being watched.’ Bea exchanged glances with the inspector. She thought that he’d probably come to the same conclusion as her, that if either Orlando or Leon had gone to investigate the cyclist, they’d have ended up dead, too.

  Hari thought it, too. ‘The murderer would have killed Orlando if that woman hadn’t driven into the car park with her children just then.’

  ‘A cyclist,’ said Bea. ‘It’s a good disguise. How can you tell what a man looks like when he’s dressed up in Lycra with a helmet and goggles on? Gloves, too. Which means no fingerprints on the car.’

  The inspector threw out his hands. ‘Motive? You said it was money?’

  ‘Billions,’ said Bea. ‘Briscoe is a multi-billionaire. But, if he had changed his will or died unexpectedly, several people would have kicked up a fuss; Adamsson, Lethbury and Leon. Sybil, too, but she had gone off to the States – her heart is really there, isn’t it? – and Dilys has been through such a rough time recently that they probably felt both women might be discounted. I think the original idea was to kill all three men and make Orlando the scapegoat.’

  ‘Slaughter at the swimming pool?’ said the inspector with a flash of his old style.

  ‘Carnage in the car park?’ said Bea.

  Orlando stared. ‘But why should I want to kill Leon and Adamsson? At a stretch I can see why someone might think I’d want to kill my father … but Leon? And Adamsson?’

  ‘No reason. That’s why Leon and Adamsson’s bodies were supposed to disappear. I don’t know what they planned to do with Leon’s body – possibly dump it somewhere and make it look like a mugging? – but Adamsson was to be disposed of in such a way as to make us think he’d gone to France.’

  Bea took a deep breath. ‘What I think happened was this: the killer arrived early, on his bike. Dressed in biker’s gear, he was anonymous. I don’t know who was killed first, but he murdered two out of his three targets straight away – Adamsson and Lethbury. Margrete must have been killed because she had seen something she shouldn’t. The killer left Lethbury and Margrete sitting in their driving seats. Adamsson’s body was transferred to the boot of his car, during which process some part of his body – maybe a ring on his finger? – struck the back window and starred the glass. The murderer took Adamsson’s keys and smashed his mobile. So far, so good.

  ‘The murderer then waited for Leon to arrive, but Orlando turned up first and discovered his father dead. That upset the killer’s timetable. He didn’t want to kill Orlando, who was supposed to carry the can for the murders. As he hesitated, Leon arrived. Good. Extra good because he’d arrived in a taxi which wasn’t going to hang around waiting for him, was it? But Leon didn’t go far enough into the car park for the killer to catch him. The killer could only watch in frustration as Orlando spotted Leon and dived into the bushes on the opposite side to where the killer was lurking! And Leon turned round and left before he could be killed! Orlando was saved by a family parking nearby. He fled, but that didn’t matter as he could still take the blame for his father’s death.

  ‘Now the original plan was that, after the killings, the murderer would add Leon’s body to Adamsson’s at the back of his SUV, shed his biker’s gear, put the cycle on top of the bodies and drive away, thus removing the two bodies from the scene. That way there would be only two victims left – Lethbury and Margrete – and no one would be able to tell which had been the original target.

  ‘But the timing went awry. The killer watched Orlando flee. He must have thought Orlando was going to the swimming pool to raise the alarm. He hadn’t time to manoeuvre the bike into the back of Adamsson’s car – always a difficult business – change his clothes and drive the car away. He couldn’t abandon the bike because he hadn’t had time to clean off any fingerprints, and he couldn’t drive Adamsson’s car away dressed in biker gear – far too noticeable. So he decided to cycle away, leaving Adamsson’s body in his car, hoping it wouldn’t be discovered. Which it wasn’t. Either he or his accomplice then sent a Trojan message to Leon and to Orlando’s mobiles. When they opened it, it would release a virus that would eventually destroy all the earlier messages and texts, leaving them without proof that they’d been lured to the car park. Orlando fell victim to that, but Leon didn’t.’

  The inspector asked, ‘Have you two still got those mobiles?’

  Both men shook their heads. ‘Handed in to the police,’ said Leon.

  ‘Going back to the day of the murder,’ said Bea, ‘the killer returned to the swimming pool a few hours later. He came on foot or arrived by bus. Why not? Lots of people do. He’d changed out of his Lycra, looked like any other man visiting the swimming pool. There were police all over the place, and they’d cordoned off some of the bays in the car park but not the first one. As would be natural on seeing the police presence, the killer probably asked around, “What’s happened, is it an accident? How shocking.” He unlocked Adamsson’s car with the keys he’d lifted early. No one was going to challenge him if he had the keys, were they? He got into the car and drove it away with Adamsson’s body in the back.’

  The inspector said, ‘What a nerve! You’re thinking of a contract killer?’ in tones of doubt.

  ‘Yes, I am. You see, there’s one interested party who might well have a motive for doing away with those close to Briscoe. It occurred to me to wonder where Angharad Evans, Briscoe’s formidable housekeeper, might fit into this scenario, and I think she fits rather well. Does anyone know if she has a connection to Denver, the head of the security team?’

  Leon said, ‘Aren’t they related? Half brother and sister?’

  Dilys lifted her hand. ‘She told me once. They were brought up together. I think one of them was fostered with the other’s family, but I can’t remember which way it was.’

  Leon snapped his fingers. ‘Briscoe said Mrs Evans had recommended Denver to the post when his previous head of security retired. Bea, are you trying to say that Mrs Evans turned my brother against us, and then set out to murder his old friend and his accountant?’

  ‘You gave me the clue yourself. You were semi-joking, but you said he’d probably got married years ago because his then housekeeper had given him notice and he’d felt he couldn’t do without her. And she gave him Dilys.’

  Bea touched Dilys’s hand. ‘Your mother died when you were still quite young, didn’t she? I’m wondering if the pattern might have repeated itself. Angharad had become essential to Briscoe. He was failing. Look at it from her point of view: when he died, she’d be out of job … and he’s worth so many billions! If she could only get him to marry her, or to change his will in her favour …! But he’d been on such good terms with his family recently that she felt she must first drive a wedge between them. Remember that she had had access to him at all hours and could drip what poison she chose into his ear. He’d had a bad cold. Leon had gone away. For perhaps a week she had him to herself, and after that he said he didn’t want to know any member of his family. Leon, you thought it was because both you and Adamsson had tried to get him to provide for Dilys and been rebuffed.’

  Dilys perked up. ‘I don’t need money, I really don’t. That is, of course I—’

  Keith patted her hand. ‘We know what you mean. You are your own person. You can make your own way in life
.’

  Dilys was grateful that he understood. ‘Yes, as a housekeeper and cook for you. You said.’

  Bea avoided looking at Leon to see how he’d taken this. She said, ‘Keep thinking how it looks from Mrs Evans’s point of view. I don’t know what background Mr Denver has. He’s the head of the security team at Holland Holdings, and according to Jennifer he asked her to infiltrate the agency and arrange for my phone to be bugged. If it was him, he certainly had a nerve. Would he have taken Adamsson’s car back to the big house?’

  She answered her own question. ‘No, I don’t think so. He probably used a lock-up garage somewhere for the next bit. He took Adamsson’s body out of the boot of the car and stripped him to his underwear to delay identification. The clothes and personal effects were probably discarded in the nearest rubbish bin. He dropped the body into the Thames at a time and place when he wouldn’t be noticed. He left the car somewhere it was likely to be vandalized before morning. And that’s how Adamsson disappeared.’

  The inspector was not happy. ‘I suppose I can pass your ideas along, but—’

  ‘I know,’ said Bea. ‘Let us bring you up to date on what else has been happening. Leon …?’

  ‘I’ve certainly been kept busy.’ He explained how he’d taken refuge with Bea, who’d found a taxi driver to take him around and give him a bed for the night. Bea then asked Orlando to pick up the tale. He said he’d been convinced he was going to be framed for his father’s murder and asked Dilys to hide him … only for Mrs Abbot to find him the following day.

  ‘Meanwhile,’ said Bea, ‘he’d given his dicey phone to Dilys to be charged up, which resulted in all the computers in the agency being infected with a virus—’