There was no fire in the grate to set The Times alight, fortunately. Ah, but efficient central heating radiators had been installed, so there would be no need for real fires any more. This was a nice, bright room, almost square. Wallpapered – where the walls could be seen for yet more bookcases – with a blue and white Chinese-inspired pattern. The woodwork was all white. There were signs that the breakfast table had been hastily cleared away. A napkin had been thrown down; there were crumbs on the tablecloth and toast still in a toast rack. A small hand bell, no doubt used to summon the attention of servants, lolled on its side.
Magda righted the bell. ‘There’s an electric bell push beside the fireplace in all the rooms down here, but he prefers to use a hand bell.’
She led the way into the next room along. ‘His bedroom. I didn’t have time to make his bed before we left, but he never leaves his wardrobe open like that, and look, the drawers are all pulled out from the chest of drawers and the side table.’
Massive mahogany fitments, a bed with a high, carved back. Only two pillows on the bed, and a duvet thrown on the floor. The room had been repapered recently, in an elegant ochre and cream pattern. More white paintwork.
‘His bathroom, next door. Nothing seems to have been touched here.’
Bea peered in, hoping to see a mahogany surround to the toilet and bath, but no; the fitments had been updated at some point, although she was pleased to see the old cast-iron bath did have claw feet and there was real lino on the floor. More fresh paint. Magda had definitely been earning her keep.
‘The sitting room,’ said Magda, leading the way. ‘It’s the next room on my list to be done. Please note that he refuses to have fresh flowers or plants anywhere, but he collects jade … it’s all there in the cabinet between the windows. Or rather—’ a catch in her voice – ‘it was. It’s gone! He’ll go spare.’
The cabinet’s doors hung open and the shelves were empty.
The furniture here was a three-piece suite by Chesterfield out of Harrods. Massive. Cretonne covered. Probably hadn’t been re-covered in this generation. The walls were covered with a lilac wallpaper, which had been bleached almost to white where the sun had struck it. Bea thought it would be interesting to see what Magda intended to do with this room.
There was a newish radio with modern speakers, and yet more bookcases and more books. No television.
Magda said, ‘That leaves just the kitchen and utility room. I can’t see that anything’s been touched there. Do you want to look?’
Bea did. She was fascinated to find a thoroughly modern kitchen and utility room with a dishwasher half filled, waiting for the breakfast dishes from that morning to be added to it. The used tableware was currently sitting on the central unit. And yes, a small television had been hung on the wall by a landline telephone. Beyond the kitchen, a small toilet had been carved out of a capacious utility room, which held the latest in washers, driers and freezers. Very nice, very Magda.
Bea said, ‘What’s upstairs?’
‘Servants’ quarters. Lucas doesn’t go up there, or hardly ever.’ She flew up the stairs, followed closely by Bea, and banged doors open. ‘Junk room housing ancient pieces of luggage and some broken bits of furniture that I haven’t got round to dealing with yet. Spare room, never used in my time. Bathroom, ditto. My sitting room … I can tell you, nothing’s been touched here, thank the Lord. Then my bedroom and bathroom en suite. A small kitchen for my own use; the usual offices, a cupboard for cleaning materials.’
Everything was neat, bright and sparkling clean, with new paint and fresh wallpaper. The television in Magda’s sitting room was one of the latest. In her bedroom, the bed had been made and there was no dust on the dressing table. Towels hung in orderly fashion in the bathroom.
Magda made a gesture of despair. ‘What do we do now? If we ring the police and tell them we’ve been burgled, the papers will get hold of it and Lucas will go spare, not to mention Lord Rycroft. I’ll get the sack, and I do like it here. But we must report the burglary, mustn’t we?’
Bea put her arm round Magda and led her downstairs. ‘Let me check on something before we decide what to do.’ She went into the sitting room and pushed back the floor-length velvet curtains – sadly stained with age. ‘The windows have been wired for alarms. There’s a panel for the alarm in the hall. But Magda, you didn’t even pause by the alarm pad to shut it off when you came in. Which argues—’
Magda ruffled her hair. ‘No, it’s broken. Again. He hates the alarm. Wants it taken out. I’ve told him and told him …’ She was on the verge of tears. ‘And now, look what’s happened!’ She sank into a chair and began to rock. ‘What am I to do? Where is he? Oh, where is he?’
Bea was tracing wiring along the skirting board. ‘How was it broken? Alarms don’t usually break.’
‘Lucas snipped the wires. In the hall. He’d set the alarm off by accident again. That’s the second, no, the third time he’s done it. He can never remember the code. I’ve written it down for him, and I make sure he’s got the card in his pocket when he goes out, but one day last week he took a different jacket from the one I’d left out for him to wear, and he didn’t have the code on him when he returned. I don’t know what to do with him. When I told the alarm people what he’d done, they were so cross they wanted to cancel the contract, but I persuaded them to give him another try. They’re coming on Monday. Oh, he’s going to go spare!’
Bea said, ‘Wait a minute. You said the alarm was going to be repaired on Monday. Who else knew it was broken?’
‘Why … I don’t know. Mrs Tarring knew, of course. I had to tell her what had happened, and she agreed that we’d probably have to pay extra to get reconnected. But she wouldn’t have talked to anyone about it. Why should she?’
‘Agreed,’ said Bea. ‘Unless—’
Magda shook her head. ‘She wouldn’t.’
‘No, I don’t suppose she would,’ said Bea. ‘She got the job as administrator to the Rycroft estate through me. I know her. She wouldn’t talk to strangers.’
But she would have told someone in the office that the alarm had been put out of commission, wouldn’t she? Especially since no alarm meant no insurance.
Unless, of course, there’s a traitor in the camp?
‘Magda, where’s the main landline phone?’
‘In the library, but there is a separate landline in the kitchen for me to order food, keep in touch with the office and so on.’ Magda led the way back to the library, and groaned at the mess. ‘What on earth were they looking for? We have no safe.’ She picked up papers at random, and then didn’t know what to do with them.
Bea located an old-fashioned Bakelite telephone on the kneehole desk. She picked it up, inspected it, and shook her head.
Bea had a wide circle of friends and one of them was a freelance bodyguard, whom she had employed on a couple of occasions. Recently he’d shown her a couple of ‘bugs’ he’d removed from a client’s house, and had briefed her on their use. Now she might be completely wrong, but if someone had wanted to find out what was going on in this house, might they not have resorted to planting a bug or two near to the landline?
She squatted down to look under the desk … and stood up, attracting Magda’s attention by putting a hand on her arm. ‘Magda, do you think you could make me a cuppa? I’m dying of thirst.’
‘Yes, yes, of course.’ Magda dropped the papers onto the floor. ‘Oh! What am I going to do?’
Bea urged her from the room. ‘Everything will look better after a cuppa. Come on, let’s leave this mess till later.’
Once in the kitchen, Bea went round opening and shutting all the cupboard doors, particularly near the landline on the wall.
‘What are you doing?’ said Magda, filling the kettle and switching it on.
‘Bugs,’ said Bea. ‘I wondered whether someone was listening in to what has been going on here. I don’t think there’s anything in here, but there is a bug under the desk in the library, which is
capable of relaying phone calls to an interested party.’
Magda nearly dropped the mug she’d been reaching for. ‘What!’
Bea said, ‘I did wonder how they knew where Lucas was supposed to be this morning and what time he’d get hold of the jewels. You say he went into the library to make a phone call at breakfast time. When he made that phone call, he must have said where he was going, that he planned to take you with him, Magda, and that he proposed to leave the jewellery with you while he had his hair cut. And someone was listening in.’
Magda sank into a chair. ‘That’s how they knew that Lucas was going on to visit Piers, which was where he was supposed to meet someone – someone different or the same someone? – and hand the jewellery over?’
‘Two different people, or the same one?’ Bea breathed out, slowly. And smiled at Magda. At least she now knew that Magda had not been responsible for leaking the news that they were all due to meet at Piers’s place. That was a relief!
Magda ran her fingers back through her hair. ‘I don’t know what to think. Either way, what’s happened to Lucas?’
And Piers. Please, Lord; keep him safe.
Bea said, ‘Magda, I was serious about that cuppa. And maybe a sandwich, if you can manage it? I think it’s safe for us to talk now. I can’t be a hundred per cent sure, but I don’t think there’s any bugs in here. Now, I want you to think who had the opportunity to plant a bug in the library.’
Magda looked at her watch. Her lower lip trembled with the effort of restraining tears, but she managed to nod and produce a teapot, add tea bags and pour boiling water in. ‘I can’t think …’
Bea prompted her. ‘You say you only had workmen in when Lucas was away. When was the last time that happened?’
‘The decorators?’ Magda crossed the room to look at a calendar on the wall. She stabbed at it with her forefinger. ‘He hasn’t been away this month. The decorators are due next Friday when he goes to New York for a conference. I’ll have four days to get the furniture moved into the middle of the room and the walls done.’
‘Will that be the sitting room?’
‘His collection of jade figurines!’ She swallowed. ‘Oh dear. I realize it’s no good panicking, but … yes, the sitting room. Willow green paintwork with William Morris wallpaper. Corny, but it works. It suits the furniture. One of Lucas’s ancient uncles used to live here and that’s why the furniture is mostly nineteenth century. Apparently he, Lucas’s uncle, was an eccentric, too. But Lucas likes it, and that’s why I try to go for the traditional look when I redecorate. I’m having new curtains made and the Chesterfield is going to be re-upholstered in the same willow pattern. It will look lovely and he probably won’t even notice.’ She poured tea into mugs and added milk.
‘How do you arrange things with the decorators? Do they come here and discuss what you needed with them? And, can you manage to make us a sandwich? It’s long past our lunch hour.’
‘Of course. When I’ve tried Lucas just once more.’ She used the landline in the kitchen. Pressed numbers. Listened, put the phone back. ‘No signal. Dead. He’s run out of juice. I usually recharge it for him overnight. He keeps the charger in the drawer of the old desk in the library.’
Moving like a sleepwalker, Magda found a sliced loaf and some ham and salad stuffs in the fridge. ‘You asked who could have planted the bug in the study? I don’t see how it could be someone from the decorators. The Rycrofts always use the same firm. I pass my suggestions to Mrs Tarring and she asks them to call and measure up, which they do …’ She looked at the calendar again. ‘Last month. Six weeks ago. That’s the last time they were here.’
‘Can you work out when the family started getting agitated about Lord Rycroft? That might give us a clue as to when the jewellery heist was planned?’
‘And the jade …!’ Magda struggled to contain her misery. She buttered sliced bread, and then broke off to start the dishwasher. ‘I’m trying to think. I remember that the first phone call was on the first Saturday of the month. Lucas was getting ready to go out to an exhibition. I heard his phone ring in the library, but he’s told me never to answer that one, so I don’t. He came in, afterwards, to tell me he might have to go down to see his brother in the country after he’d been to the Royal Academy. This meant he probably wouldn’t be back that night. He was annoyed. I asked if anything were the matter and he said it was likely to prove a storm in a teacup but he’d better check it out. When he returned, I asked how he’d found his brother, and he said his brother was no more ridiculous than usual, and that it was his nephew who needed his head seeing to.’
Bea took over making the sandwiches as Magda didn’t seem capable of seeing any job through to its conclusion. ‘Which nephew? One of the twins?’
‘Oh, no. I don’t think so.’ Magda was doubtful. ‘He could have meant Kent, Lord Rycroft’s eldest son, but Kent’s really sane, so I don’t think Lucas meant him. There is another cousin, I think … but I really wasn’t paying much attention. It didn’t seem important at the time. After that there were a number of calls, all demanding that Lucas ring them back. They wanted him to call a meeting of the family to discuss some family problem or other, and he wouldn’t. Sometimes he’d pick up the phone, hear who it was, and put the receiver down without speaking.
‘That’s when they started on me, ringing on my landline here, asking me to get him to phone them back, making me take down messages to give him … messages he tore up and dropped in the bin. One of them told me the old lord was going round the twist so it was imperative that Lucas took action, but he just laughed when I repeated that to him. They must have got my phone number from the office. That is, my own personal, housekeeper’s phone number.’ She pointed to the modern phone hanging on the wall. ‘There is a phone upstairs in the housekeeper’s room but I spend a lot of my time in here so Mrs Tarring arranged for that extension on the wall.’
‘When was that done?’
Magda consulted her memory. ‘Quite soon after I arrived. Two years ago in January? Yes. January.’
‘So that’s not it. We’re looking for someone who came in this month, after the general hoo-ha began.’
Magda muttered to herself, tracking down notes she’d made on the calendar. Eventually, with some hesitation, she returned to the eighth. ‘Would the eighth be about right? Lucas has a meeting of some Ancient Society of something or other on the second Wednesday of every month, so he was out when a man came with some papers for Lucas to sign. The man said he was from the Rycroft Foundation and Lucas had made an appointment for that day and time. I didn’t know him, but he had the right paperwork. He was respectable, well spoken. No, it couldn’t have been him, could it?’
‘Tell me about him.’
‘I said Lucas was out. He said he’d heard that Lucas was a bit absent-minded, which of course, is true. He asked if he could use the phone to ring the office, to check that he’d got the right day and time. So I let him into the library and showed him the phone. I stood there, all the time. I didn’t leave him alone. He took a file out of his briefcase and rang the office, told them what had happened. He listened, put the phone down and apologized to me for wasting my time. Apparently he’d come to the wrong address. It wasn’t Lucas who was supposed to be signing the papers but one of the other Rycrofts. He tried to put the file back but it came loose and papers went all over the floor. Oh!’ She covered her mouth with her hand.
‘You helped him pick them up, and that was when he put the bug under the desk?’
‘I could kick myself.’
‘I don’t see how you could have known he wasn’t genuine. Did you tell Lucas about his visit?’
‘The man begged me not to. He said he might lose his job if they found out he’d gone to the wrong Rycroft’s house. Knowing how strict they are, I believed him. So, no I didn’t.’
Was this the traitor in the camp? Did this ‘respectable’ man work for the foundation in some capacity or other? It sounded rather like it.
&nbs
p; Magda said, ‘When do you think we should start ringing round the hospitals?’
Bea had wondered that, too. She looked at her watch. Barely two hours had passed since Piers had gone off in search of Lucas, who had been missing longer than that. It was time enough for an ambulance to have travelled to a hospital, and for the patient to have been received into an Accident & Emergency department.
‘We could give it a go. I don’t know what else to try.’
A phone rang.
Magda reached for the one on the wall, and Bea reached for her handbag.
It was Bea’s mobile ringing. ‘Yes?’
A man’s voice. ‘Bea, where the hell are you?’
‘Piers!’ Was it really him? ‘Piers, more to the point, where are you? Are you all right? Not in hospital?’
‘How come you know about that? And where’s Magda what’s-her-name? She’d fled by the time I got back to the house and—’
‘Where’s Lucas?!’ Magda all but screamed.
Bea put out a hand to Magda, grasping her arm. ‘Quiet, Magda. Piers, this is important. We saw someone get taken off in an ambulance from your place. Who was it?’
Magda moaned with pain and Bea released her arm, mouthing, ‘Sorry.’ She’d forgotten about Magda’s bruises, which she ought not to have done, since her own were still painful.
Piers said, ‘Lucas Rycroft, you mean?’
Magda heard and gave a little wail.
Bea said, ‘Was it him? Are you sure?’
‘How can I be sure? I wouldn’t guarantee to pick him out of a line-up. How could I? I’ve never met him. All I know is, someone called Lucas was expected to arrive at my place, and there this man was. He wasn’t awake enough to introduce himself. What does your Lucas look like?’
‘Long fair hair, turning grey, tied back. In his forties.’
‘I don’t think it’s the same man. My body – whoever he was – would be in his late thirties. Fair hair, shortish, but longer over his forehead, small beard.’
False Pride Page 5
