Up To No Good

by Victoria Corby

  He shook his head, though he seemed to be just the teeniest bit uncertain. I looked at him earnestly, trying to be as convincing as possible. ‘It’ll put that Mack bloke in a really bad mood when he discovers you’ve been trying to palm him off with a fake.’

  Charlie rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘If it’s a fake, why did Tom call the police?’

  Why did he? ‘Er, well he had to once the alarm had been raised, didn’t he? Otherwise everybody would have smelt a rat,’ I said, speaking more rapidly as I warmed to my theme, desperate to convince him and get him out of here, without the picture, as quickly as possible.

  ‘Maybe,’ he said doubtfully, then his expression sharpened. ‘Come off it, Nella. Janey wouldn’t have told you to steal a fake.’

  ‘But she didn’t know it was one - Tom hadn’t told her. Robert was telling me about it in the car. That’s how he met Venetia, you know, when he came to take photo­graphs so his artist could start doing the copy.’

  ‘I thought Venetia said she’d met him at some party in London,’ he said, frowning as if searching his memory for her exact words. Damn! That’s the trouble with over-embroidery. Your stitches go all awry.

  He hesitated, looking as if he wasn’t sure whether to believe me or not. I held my breath, hoping, hoping, then he smiled at me coolly. ‘Never mind, it doesn’t matter either way. A mate of mine will be able to tell me what this really is. If you’re telling the truth,’ he shrugged, ‘I’ll have to find some other way of raising money. And if you aren’t,’ his voice changed, ‘you’d best remember what I said to you. If I go down, your Robert goes down with me.’

  ‘He’s not my Robert,’ I said sadly and with absolute truth. Nor would he ever be, not now.

  ‘Isn’t he?’ Charlie said sceptically. ‘More fool him then. I certainly wouldn’t have let an opportunity to drive through France with you go to waste like that. At the very least I’d have staged a breakdown that meant spend­ing the night at some out-of-the-way hotel.’

  I looked fixedly at my hands, fiercely willing myself not to blush. For once the gods listened to me, or at least I think they did; at any rate Charlie didn’t snigger knowingly.

  ‘Shame about all this. We could have had quite a thing going,’ he said with just enough regret. ‘Remember what I said. I meant it.’ Then, grasping the picture securely under one arm, he was out of the door and away.

  For a couple of seconds I was too relieved that he’d gone to do anything, even move, then I was filled with such a marvellously energising burst of rage at being taken for an almighty ride like this that I leaped up and, grabbing my towel, ran out on the doorstep shrieking at the top of my voice, ‘Stop thief! Stop him, someone, he’s just burgled my flat! That man there! Yes, him, the one with my picture under his arm!’

  Charlie was about thirty feet away, strolling speedily but without panic down the street. He looked incredu­lously over his shoulder and broke into a run.

  ‘Catch him!’ I yelled to a businessman carrying a briefcase on the other side of the road. He stared at the demented female in a towel yelling accusations at the respectable bloke in a suit and pretended he hadn’t heard. ‘Wimp!’ I snarled. There was nothing for it, I was going to have to do it myself.

  I was never going to catch him, I realised in dismay as I belted down the street. He had too much of a head start. I was beginning to get a stitch and he was already unlocking the rear door on his Golf. I hardly had the breath to shout any more. He flung the picture on the back seat, and got in, starting the engine while I was still a good twenty yards away. Then I nearly tripped over a paving stone with astonishment as someone got out of a car parked further down the street and ran back towards us. Charlie must have seen him too for he revved up frantically and began jerking back and forth with loud protesting noises from his engine and at least one crunch which indicated that the car parked behind him was going to need a new bumper. He got the car aligned and started to move, but had to slam on his brakes to allow another car to pass. Before he could get moving again, Robert had flung open the rear door and seized the picture.

  Charlie half spilled out of the car, leaving the engine running and lunged at him. ‘Give that to me.’

  ‘No. It’s not yours,’ Robert said calmly.

  ‘Watch out, Robert!’ I panted, arriving at last, as Charlie put a hand in one of his pockets. ‘He’s got a knife in there.’

  With a dexterity that amazed me, I managed to keep a grip on the towel and catch a quarter of a million pounds’ worth of Post Impressionist just before it hit the pavement as Robert wheeled around to grab Charlie’s shirtfront.

  ‘A knife? What have you been doing to Nella?’ he demanded, twisting his hand in Charlie’s tie so it tightened in a stranglehold around his neck.

  ‘Nothing, I promise you,’ I said quickly. ‘I only know because I saw him putting it back after he’d undone the wrappings on the picture. Let him go,’ I added frantically. Charlie’s face was going a strange shade of puce and he was making funny gurgling noises. ‘You’re going to garrotte him.’

  ‘Good,’ Robert said tersely, though I was relieved to see he loosened his grip a little. So was Charlie, judging by the deep breaths he was taking. Needless to say, now that someone had come to my aid, the street was slowly filling up with males who were gamely giving the impression that of course they would have been prepared to leap into the breach, but it just so happened someone had got there first. ‘You’d better go and ring the police, Nella,’ Robert told me.

  ‘Is there really any need for that?’ I squeaked. ‘We’ve got the Sydney back and I’m sure Janey and Tom won’t want this sort of publicity. You can just see the tabloids going to town with “Château tenant steals valuable picture,” or something. Wouldn’t it be better to let him go?’

  ‘How sensible of you, Nella,’ Charlie said in an approving voice.

  Robert hesitated. ‘Please,’ I added.

  With obvious reluctance Robert released him. Charlie staggered backwards quickly out of his reach and said in heartfelt tones, ‘Thank you, Nella.’ He looked at the picture in my arms and sighed. ‘Oh well, as I said, it was worth the risk. I almost won and I didn’t lose anything. You might say it was the ultimate perfect bet. The only thing I do regret...’ He cocked his head and smiled at me. ‘I don’t suppose you’d have dinner with me one evening?’

  ‘No, she would not.’ Robert said fiercely.

  Charlie grinned and got into his car, blowing me a kiss out of the window. Robert took a step towards him and Charlie gunned the car into gear and took off as if the hounds of hell were after him.

  CHAPTER 26

  So my white knight had turned up after all. I gave Robert a shaky smile, my heart still racing. ‘How did you happen to be on the spot?’

  He waited, eyes fixed on the end of the road, as if to make sure Charlie really was turning the comer and not coming back again. Then: ‘I had to speak to you some­how, Nella. I was going to bang on your door until you let me in, only Charlie was walking up your steps as I arrived, so I decided I’d wait in my car until you were alone. I’m obviously not any good at this surveillance lark, though. I was reading the paper and not concentrat­ing on the job in hand, hence being so slow off the mark when you started shrieking like a banshee.’

  ‘At least you got here, and you got the painting back,’ I said, lapsing into tongue-tied silence as I recalled what I’d said to him this morning and looked down at my bare, filthy feet. I definitely needed that bath now, except it had probably gone cold. Also an interested group was gathering around us, one or two of the men goggling openly at my unusual street wear. I did a speedy check to ensure everything was still decently in place and mumbled, ‘I left the door of the flat open. I’d better get back before half the criminal element of South London take it as an open invitation to go in and do the place over.’

  Robert took the picture off me, taking care, so it seemed, to keep his distance and not actually brush up against me. ‘May I come to
get the case for this?’ he asked with a painful politeness that made my heart sink. ‘I really appreciate the brave efforts you made to get it back, but you needn’t have gone to so much bother. It isn’t genuine.’

  ‘Er... actually,’ I began.

  He sighed. ‘It’s true, I promise you. Tom couldn’t face the fuss if anyone knew he was settling his debts by flogging an heirloom so he commissioned a copy off me. I was supposed to have done a swap the night before I left, only...’

  ‘So that’s why he blamed you for the theft of the Sydney,’ I said as we reached my front door and I closed it behind us.

  ‘Exactly,’ Robert said. ‘And Tom was already having enough problems with the insurance without them discovering he’d had the forethought to have a perfect copy made of his missing picture, so I took it back to London while he made up his mind what to do with it - which is why it was in my car.’ He rested the picture against the wall and turned to face me. ‘And that’s the whole story. The truth. If you don’t believe me you’re welcome to ring Tom.’

  ‘I don’t need to,’ I said in a low voice, trying desperately to formulate the words to tell him I already knew how wrong I’d been.

  ‘So you’ve been speaking to Janey. Tom said he’d told her.’

  I shook my head and said miserably, my insides shrivelling up, ‘I worked out what had happened earlier this evening.’ Round about the time I saw Charlie with the picture and realised it had a twin hidden only a few feet away. Bit late really. If only Robert would look even a little bit understanding... but no, I suppose that was too much to ask. ‘Robert, I’m so sorry,’ I said finally, looking away so he couldn’t see my face beginning to screw up. ‘I should have known that you weren’t a thief.’

  ‘It was a perfectly reasonable assumption to have made,’ he said coolly. ‘I think I’d have done the same if I’d discovered an apparently valuable picture hidden away in your luggage, except I like to think that I might have allowed you to tell me what it was doing there before I condemned you out of hand.’

  He was being so bloody reasonable that each measured, fair word was like a knife twisting in my stomach. I knew Robert, I thought with a sniff. He didn’t do reasonable, not with people he cared about. He did flaming rages, enthusiasms, indignation, passion... no, don’t think about that. I even longed for him to look at me with that familiar murderous expression; at least it would mean he was feeling something. I had really blown it this time, beyond all possible redemption, and it was hardly surpris­ing, was it? All I could do was nod in agreement, too dispirited to say anything more in my defence. ‘About the picture—’ I began.

  ‘Forget it,’ he said briskly. ‘The only thing that does mystify me is how it got mixed up with your things.’

  ‘That was Min.’ I looked away in embarrassment. ‘She... she was trying to make sure that we met up again.’

  ‘She certainly achieved that,’ he said with a tinge of amusement in his voice. Then it turned to ice. ‘But presumably your sister didn’t know about Charlie or she’d have realised she was on a hiding to nothing.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  He smiled at me, not a very nice smile as it happens. It was about as warm as a November afternoon. ‘Come on, Nella. There’s only one reason why a woman has all her clothes off within twenty minutes of a man arriving in her flat.’

  I stared at him, my heart beginning to race. Was I imagining things or did he really object more to me being half undressed around Charlie than about Charlie legging it down the street with someone else’s picture? ‘Two reasons actually,’ I corrected. ‘The second is because she’s having a bath.’

  ‘A bath?’ he said incredulously. ‘Is that how you entertain your gentleman callers these days?’

  ‘I was alone,’ I said repressively. ‘And Charlie wasn’t in the least bit interested in getting my clothes off; all he wanted to do was get the wrappings off that picture.’

  ‘Shows a lamentable sense of priorities if you ask me,’ Robert murmured, his expression as he looked at me making me think that perhaps the sun might rise again tomorrow after all.

  ‘But I’m not worth a quarter of a million pounds. At least I daresay my mother would say that I am, but she’s biased,’ I burbled, trying to force myself to concentrate on the job in hand and not do something dramatic to persuade him to go on looking at me like that - such as dropping the towel. Lest I be tempted to do just that I took an extra hard grip on it while Robert stared at me, as if he was wondering whether I’d finally flipped. It just seemed too complicated to explain so I reached behind the sofa and hauled out the picture case. ‘You see, this is what came out of your car.’

  I stepped back a pace and watched his face change as he opened it up. He drew out the picture inside and looked at it, then looked at the one against the wall, then very carefully as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, placed the one he was holding next to its twin. I hoped he knew which one was which because I certainly didn’t.

  After a long silence he chuckled. ‘I wonder what Tom would have done to me if I’d rescued his precious picture only to drop it and smash it on the pavement,’ he said, eyes still on the two pictures. ‘So George was right about-it being an inside job. He’d be upset to know he fingered the wrong person though. Who’d have thought it of Charlie? Though I suppose he does have that reckless edge.’ He swung around to give me a hard look. ‘Why did you insist on letting him go?’

  ‘Not because I can’t bear the idea of him behind bars, I promise you,’ I said quickly. Robert still looked suspi­cious. ‘He said if he was arrested he’d name you as his accomplice, said the publicity would ruin your reputa­tion. Maybe he was exaggerating, but I thought it was too much of a risk. I’ve already done for one career of yours, haven’t I?’ I looked down, scuffing the carpet around with a grubby foot. ‘I was going to let him get away - when it comes down to it, it’s only a picture, but,’ I shrugged, ‘I thought that perhaps he wasn’t as clever as he thought - after all, I'd caught him in the act. He was bound to get caught eventually. And he’d probably finger you then anyway, so I reckoned I’d better try and get it back from him right away.’

  ‘You chased after Charlie when you knew he had a knife on him? Are you out of your mind, Nella?’ Robert demanded, a welcomingly murderous look in his eyes. ‘Didn’t you think for a single moment of what he might do to you?’

  ‘Er... no,’ I admitted, then added, ‘but he said he didn’t like violence.’

  Robert stared at me as if he wanted to grab my shoulders and shake sense into me then he began to laugh. ‘So you charged into battle on my behalf dressed in a towel. My darling, you are quite, quite mad!’ At last I found myself in his arms, being hugged so tightly I could hardly breathe. ‘I admit this outfit is a great deal more enticing than your average suit of armour, but perhaps you ought to save it for indoors in future,’ he said, slackening his grip slightly and looking downwards appreciatively. ‘When Wonder Woman goes out defend­ing justice and apprehending a criminal or two she usually wears something a bit more... secure,’ he added as the towel slipped slightly. ‘But you shouldn’t have taken the risk, my brave, brave darling.’

  I protested indistinctly that I hadn’t been brave, I hadn’t thought what I was doing, but he ignored that, telling me to shut up, then making sure I shut up by kissing me. Usually I object to men trying to make me be quiet. Not this time. At some point the towel gave up the battle and fell off completely and after that things progressed like they tend to when your towel has fallen off. I didn’t object to that either.

  It was some time later, a lot later, and we’d got to the stage where other appetites had to be satisfied and were waiting for a pizza to be delivered. Neither of us felt comfortable about going out just in case that arch chancer and opportunist Charlie was waiting to see if he could turn his hand to a bit of breaking and entering to add to the rap sheet he had already. Robert had offered to get us a takeaway but I was still so overwhelmed by this only dreamt
-of turn of events that I was reluctant to let him out of my sight, even if only for a few minutes. I could see this might present a bit of a problem tomorrow morning when we both had to go to work, but I’d deal with that later.

  Robert had taken delivery of an extra large Pizzaman special with extra just about everything and I was closing the door behind him when Oscar, white as a sheet, belted up the steps. ‘Nella! Are you all right?’ he panted as he saw me.

  I grinned at him. ‘I can assure you I’ve never been better.’

  ‘I’ve been worried sick about you. I’ve been trying to get hold of you all evening - I’ve been speaking to Janey and I’ve got to tell you about that picture. Anyway, I dropped in at Mrs Patel’s for milk first, and she said she’d heard you’d been attacked by a naked man in the street and taken off in an ambulance - head injuries, she thought.’

  I lifted my arms and gave him a twirl. ‘A slight exaggeration, as you can see I’m completely fine.’

  The colour began to come back to his face. ‘What have you been doing?’ he demanded reproachfully. ‘Janey says she can’t get hold of you either. First all I got was the answerphone, then it seemed as if it was off the hook.’

  ‘Er, yes, I can’t have replaced it properly,’ I said, blushing and trying not to laugh at Robert’s guilty expression. He must have knocked the receiver off when he put three cushions on top of the telephone so we wouldn’t get distracted from more important things by the continuous sound of Oscar and Janey leaving messages.

  ‘Oh,’ Oscar said, coming inside and sitting down. His gaze rested briefly on Robert and on his bare feet before coming back to me. He must have been really worried about me not to have copped on to this interesting development straight away, I thought, feeling deeply touched.

  ‘What’s been going on, Nella? Presumably there was some truth in this story; even old Mrs P doesn’t make up naked men chasing you down the street out of thin air, so who was he?’