Died suddenly.
Another phrase sprang to mind, from his encounter with Wayne, moments after his confrontation with Tom Gunter in St. Nicholas Gardens. His first instinct had been right all along. The innocence of the question was belied by that vulpine smile.
‘Did you get my message?’
Chapter Twenty-three
Harry gave Gina a frayed grin. ‘I could do with another drink.’
She picked up the bottle and said to Juliet, ‘Will you change your mind, Mrs. May?’
Juliet shook her head. ‘My five minutes are up, I think.’
‘Why did you come here to tell me this?’ Harry asked.
‘Because there’s something weird about him. When you mentioned this party, it was obvious that if you weren’t lying to me, he was lying to you. And I’ve known you long enough to understand that even when you do lie, it doesn’t come easily. Wayne Saxelby is different. Whenever I bump into him in the building, he’s always showing off. I know a thing or two about rich businessmen. Casper and Malachy Needham, whatever you may think about them, they’re the real deal. If Wayne Saxelby is a successful entrepreneur, then my name’s Mother Teresa.’
‘Just because he’s told a few lies, it doesn’t mean there’s any harm in him.’
‘Come off it, Harry. You’re not pleading before the magistrates now.’ She fiddled with the buckle of her bag. ‘You know what I wondered?’
He held her gaze. ‘Is this about the attack on Jim Crusoe?’
‘Got it in one. I like Jim, though I’m not sure he likes me. He didn’t deserve to have his skull cracked open. And when you’ve just moved into a nice new flat, you don’t like to think that extreme violence has been inflicted a few floors below. It shouldn’t happen. Casper’s spitting feathers.’
Gina said to Harry, ‘Why would Wayne beat your partner up?’
‘A good question, my dear,’ Juliet said. ‘Perhaps you can help him find a few of the answers.’
‘You have Tamara’s number?’ Harry asked.
Juliet fished in the silver bag and retrieved her mobile. It was small and pink and glitzy. She thumbed the keys and read out a number which Harry wrote down.
‘I’ll leave you to it. When Casper came round earlier on, he changed his mind about this evening and offered to take me out for a meal instead. So I need to go back and get ready.’
‘Thanks.’ All at once, Harry felt embarrassed. ‘It was good of you to come round. I’m sorry I…’
She clasped his hand for a moment, then let it go. ‘Not another word, please. Don’t worry, I can see myself out.’
‘Goodbye, Mrs. May,’ Gina said.
‘Goodbye, Gina.’ Juliet paused. ‘Look after him, won’t you? I promise you one thing, with Harry Devlin, there’s never a dull moment. Unless you hate films and music and mysteries, that is.’
***
Five minutes later, he was surfing the net at his desk in the small study, clicking the mouse fast and often enough to make his wrist ache. The homepage of Wayne Saxelby’s website was elegantly designed, but when he tried to access the link to Client Testimonials, the screen filled with the message Page Not Found. To listen to Wayne talk, you’d assume countless prospective clients beat a path to his door, but the web-counter showed only a handful of hits in the past thirty days. Tamara’s fans had set up half a dozen online sites in her honour, but none mentioned Wayne. Six months ago, in a blaze of publicity, she’d split up with a rock singer with a cocaine habit, and since then she’d had a succession of wealthy admirers. Not a management consultant among them. Of course, Wayne might have dodged the gossip columnists. But Harry couldn’t see it. Wayne, resist the chance to preen in front of the paparazzi?
Gina stood at his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck. In the compact room, he was aware of the closeness of her body to his, and of a delicate freesia scent.
‘He dresses well. Designer clothes, none of your chain store crap.’
‘He drives a BMW too. But what does that really prove? He can persuade people to offer him finance, that’s all.’
‘If he’s brilliant at what he does…’
‘He talks a good game. Jim and I should have realised when he offered us consultancy services for nothing. No such thing as a free lunch.’
‘You didn’t pay him?’
‘His story was that it made business sense from his perspective. If we liked his initial work, we would cough up to engage him longer-term, and hey presto! He’d have gained a foothold in the legal services sector. But let’s face it, Crusoe and Devlin aren’t anyone’s idea of a trophy client.’
‘You fell for his smooth talk.’
Harry sighed. ‘I suppose it suited us to think that Wayne had no hard feelings after he finished working for us.’
‘What happened?’
When he’d told her the story, she said, ‘He blames you for destroying his dream.’
‘It was his parents’ dream, he made that clear. They wanted their boy to be a solicitor. A respectable professional. But he was always something of a Walter Mitty.’
‘Walter who?’
‘I’ll tell you another time.’ He checked his watch. ‘I ought to ring Tamara Dighton. Even if she’s a late riser, it must be close to mid-day in sunny Barbados or wherever.’
He switched off the PC and went back to the living room to pick up the phone. Gina squatted on the floor, legs tucked beneath her.
Presently a distant voice on a bad line said, ‘Yah?’
‘Tamara Dighton?’
‘Yah.’
He conjured up a picture of a sun-kissed beach, waves lapping the sandy shore, Tamara in a bikini as tiny as it was expensive. A world apart from New Brighton, in more ways than one.
‘My name is Devlin and I’m ringing from Liverpool. Your landlord here, Casper May, is a friend of mine.’ He crossed his fingers behind his back. ‘I wanted to know if you need another house-sitter.’
‘I’m coming back to England on Wednesday.’
‘To Liverpool?’
‘Yah.’
‘And Wayne Saxelby is moving out tomorrow?’
‘Look, what is this? Are you from the Mail?’
‘Absolutely not.’ A fervent note entered his voice. ‘I just wondered about how you came to know Wayne Saxelby.’
‘He showed up at a party and introduced himself…look, I know he backs film-makers, but there’s nothing between him and me, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘You aren’t close friends?’
‘He said he’d keep me in mind if he found a suitable vehicle for my talents while he was in the city. He’s in the business, and he’s keeping an eye on my flat for me while I’m away. I mean, there’s a little man who’s supposed to look after the building, but he lives downstairs, it’s not the same.’ A pause. ‘Look, you are from the Mail, aren’t you?’
The drawl was fading, and he detected a hint of native Scouse.
Harry contrived an elaborate sigh. ‘All right, Ms. Dighton, there’s no fooling you. But if you were willing to talk to me on an exclusive basis…’
‘Speak to my agent,’ she said. ‘He handles all that kind of thing. I’ve got better things to do right now. Like having a swim.’
He heard a click as she put down the phone.
‘Well?’ Gina demanded.
‘Juliet was spot on.’
‘What are you going to do?’
He banged the phone back on its stand and clenched his fist. Anger was rising to the surface. ‘If he’s responsible for putting Jim in intensive care…’
‘You’re a solicitor,’ she said quickly. ‘You can’t take the law into your own hands. Tell the police.’
‘Tell them what?’
‘That Wayne isn’t the man he pretends to be.’
‘If people were locked up on that basis, we’d need a prison on every street corner. Police officers like evidence. If he did attack Jim, he’s covered his tracks. Posed as a rescuer, the man who saved Jim�
�s life.’
‘Scumbag,’ she said. ‘Is there something to accuse him of?’
‘Inviting me to a party that isn’t going to happen?’
‘If he’s leaving tomorrow, we have to do something.’
‘We?’ He considered her eager, up-turned face. ‘This is my problem, not yours.’
‘I want to help. I mean, what’s this so-called party about? I’d say he wants to lure you down to the basement or somewhere and beat you up too.’
‘Or worse.’
Died suddenly.
‘Is there anything in the penthouse that might prove what he’s done?’
Harry shrugged. ‘He must have typed the announcement of my death on his beloved laptop. Presumably he deleted the document…’
‘I bet it can be retrieved.’
‘Two problems with that. First, even if I can establish he typed the notice, that doesn’t prove he hit Jim over the head. Second, we can’t break into the penthouse and trawl through his laptop. We don’t know his passwords…’
‘Details!’ She waved them away with an airy gesture. ‘Can’t you forget you’re a cautious solicitor for a moment? If we can get into the flat, who knows what we will find? At least we can nick the laptop and ask an expert to do the hard work.’
‘You’re incorrigible.’
‘Nice word, hope it’s a compliment. Hey, you never know what else we may find. Besides, we have to start somewhere. Probably with another drink. Shall I pour?’
He couldn’t help grinning. ‘All right.’
‘Listen,’ she said, clutching the bottle like an offensive weapon, ‘it shouldn’t be so difficult. The man’s more or less stalking you, right? If you can gather some of your precious evidence from the penthouse, you will be able to make a complaint to the police.’
‘Under the Protection from Harassment Act?’
‘Whatever.’
‘Maybe you’re the one who ought to be a solicitor.’
‘Only if all else fails.’ She poured until the glasses overflowed. He was starting to realise she didn’t have much restraint. ‘Come on, it’s worth a shot.’
Harry shook his head. He’d already broken into one home today with disastrous results. ‘I don’t think so, Gina.’
‘Worried about breaking and entering?’
‘Among other things.’
‘It’s not a problem. Victor Creevey’s master key will let us into the penthouse.’
‘How do you propose we get hold of that?’
‘Let’s ask him for it.’ She nodded towards the window. ‘I can see him at this very moment. Strolling along the waterfront with his chum.’
Harry picked up his glass and moved to join her. Victor and Barney were fifty yards away, sauntering along the riverside from the direction of Albert Dock, pausing every now and then to glance across the Mersey. Their bodies kept touching, as if by chance. They looked content in each other’s company.
‘So—are you up for it?’
The wine worked its magic. Her enthusiasm was impossible to resist.
‘Okay. You win.’
***
Victor froze as he caught sight of Harry and Gina hurrying towards him, trainers pattering on the stone walkway. Barney had reverted to languid mode, and merely raised his thick black eyebrows.
‘What do you want?’
‘Keep your hair on, Victor.’ He was conscious of Gina by his side, stifling a giggle as she contemplated the building manager’s bald patch. ‘This isn’t about what happened in the basement. That’s just between ourselves.’
Victor’s eyes became tiny slits. Maybe Crippen looked as hunted as this when Inspector Dew turned up on his doorstep to ask about the disappearance of his wife.
‘Well, then?’
‘Wayne Saxelby. I’m told he’s house-sitting for Tamara Dighton.’
Victor’s jaw dropped. ‘You weren’t supposed to know.’
‘I’ve had a conversation with Juliet May. Interesting. Wayne spun me the line that he was Tamara’s latest boyfriend. Load of bollocks, isn’t it?’
‘He’s doing some consultancy work for you and Jim Crusoe, right? He took me into his confidence, but I promised to keep my mouth shut.’
‘Time to break that promise, Victor.’
Victor frowned. ‘He said his business was getting off the ground and he was desperate to create the image of the man who had everything. Showing off, I suppose. But I admired his honesty.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘He’s full of talk, I grant you. But he’s a likeable guy. Quite a charmer.’
Barney made a scornful noise.
‘Presumably money changed hands?’
‘What if it did?’ Victor’s default tone remained righteous indignation. ‘No law against it, is there?’
‘At this precise moment, I couldn’t care less about the bloody law. Wayne has spun us all a line. He’s not the man he seems.’
‘Told you,’ Barney said unexpectedly. ‘I never liked the cut of his jib. It wasn’t jealousy, despite what you said. The one time we met, I could see he wasn’t to be trusted.’
‘What has this got to do with me?’ Victor demanded.
‘I want to take a look inside that penthouse. Gina tells me you have a master key?’
Victor scowled at the girl. ‘I can’t jeopardise security, if that’s what you’re suggesting. It’s out of the question.’
‘Remember the CCTV cameras?’ Harry muttered. ‘I’ll be upfront with you, Victor. I think Wayne knows more about the attack on Jim than he’s admitted.’
‘You can’t imagine he’d hurt your partner! It’s utter nonsense.’
‘Is it? He’s the only person known to be on the scene. The only one with a possible motive.’
‘Such as?’
‘He used to work for us.’
‘He mentioned that. Said how far he’d moved on since then. Are you jealous of his success?’
‘We allowed him to resign rather than be sacked. Maybe he holds that against us.’
‘I don’t believe it!’
‘I do.’ Barney’s hair was blowing in the breeze. ‘He’s a creep.’
As Victor gave his lover a reproachful glance, Harry said, ‘We need the key for an hour, maximum.’
‘Sorry, it’s more than my job’s worth.’
Gina shot a glance at Barney. ‘Which is precisely what, if Casper May finds out about your fun and games in the basement?’
‘Where’s the harm, Victor?’ Barney murmured. ‘Who cares if Harry here has a little…poke around?’
‘You two have caused me a lot of grief,’ Victor said. ‘As a matter of fact, you might like to know that I’ve handed in my resignation. I’ve agreed to work out one month’s notice. Barney and I will move to Manchester. We have friends in the Gay Village, so don’t think you can threaten me.’
‘You’re relaxed if I have a word with Casper May, then?’ Harry said.
Victor spat on to the paving stones. ‘I’ll get you the key.’
‘Shall we come with you?’
‘No need.’ He nodded towards the bulk of Empire Dock. ‘You live in one of those flats, don’t you? I’ll drop it off in a quarter of an hour.’
***
‘What next?’ Gina asked when they were back inside.
Harry reached for the phone. ‘We need to make sure that we aren’t interrupted while we scout round the penthouse.’
His call was answered at the second ring. ‘Wayne Saxelby.’
‘This is Harry. I’ve changed my mind about coming to the party.’
‘You have? Terrific!’ Wayne sounded as though Leonardo DiCaprio had promised to drop by. ‘I was going to call you again, try and twist your arm. You’ll be glad you came.’
‘And I have some good news. Jim Crusoe has regained consciousness and he’s sitting up and saying a few words.’
‘Fantastic! I’m so pleased.’
‘But there’s one thing that’s rather odd. While Carmel was out of the
room, he said something strange about what happened down in the basement, the night he was attacked.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I don’t want to talk on the telephone. But since you were there that night, I’d like to discuss it with you.’
‘Why not now?’
‘It’s very…sensitive. I’d rather do it face to face.’
‘Mysterious.’ Wayne hesitated. ‘Okay, let’s talk before Tamara’s party.’
‘Are you collecting her from the airport?’
‘No…’ Harry supposed Wayne was making it up as he went along. ‘She’s booked a cab. Of course I’ve said nothing to her about the party. I’ll pick you up from Empire Dock, it’s not out of my way. We can have a natter over a beer before the fun starts.’
‘Actually, I need to talk to Carmel, as well.’
Wayne became doubtful. ‘What about?’
‘I’ll explain later.’
‘I don’t…’
‘Let’s meet at the pub opposite the hospital.’
‘The Burning Deck?’
‘Say in half an hour?’
‘No, it’s not convenient. Let me collect you and bring you here first.’
‘Sorry, can’t manage that. I’ve already arranged for Carmel to join us at the Burning Deck later. It would be useful if you and I had a private chat first.’
‘But…’
‘It’s important, Wayne. You’ll understand when I’ve explained everything.’
Gina grinned at him and gave a nod of encouragement. She was almost dancing with excitement.
‘This is all most peculiar.’ Wayne was unhappy. ‘What is…?’
‘See you in the saloon bar.’ Harry had become as keen on interrupting as a political interviewer. ‘Don’t be late.’
As he put down the phone, Gina applauded.
‘Oh my God! You ought to be an actor yourself.’
‘Believe me, I dredged up some of the corniest B-movie lines I could remember.’ He parodied breathlessness. ‘I don’t want to talk about it on the telephone.’
Her eyes sparkled. The wine had taken hold.
‘Here’s another one for you. How about he’s swallowed the bait?’
***
Waterloo Sunset: A Lake District Mystery #4 (Lake District Mysteries) Page 28
