A Change of Heart (The Heartfelt Series) (13 page)

“We’d need to do it quickly and it has to look genuine, involve the police, make sure everything is reported. You see this is all itemised and insured for millions,” he said. “Then we can claim the insurance.”

“I get that, but who gets the insurance money?” she asked.

“Rossini, the collection is insured under the franchise operation,” he said.

“So you arrange for the collection to be stolen and the insurance claimed but what happens to the jewels?” she asked.

“They disappear for a while, then sold, black market, gone.” Larry was grey with seriousness.

“And that money?” she asked.

“Back to the franchise,” Larry shrugged. “It costs around a hundred million dollars to make a
Thomas Bentley.
Like all businesses the franchise needs capital, and since the crash, the banks are nervous about the industry, there’s just not enough money around to keep the franchise going.”

“I see.” Miss MacReady toyed with a diamond bracelet she was wearing. “Let me get this straight, Angelique is literally hiving off the family silver and instead of handing her over to the authorities, you’ve decided to pull a fast one on the insurance company, claim the money for the stolen gems
and
pocket the funds once they’ve been sold?”

Larry looked uncomfortable.

“When she showed up here with them I couldn’t believe it, it was like an opportunity to help out landed right in my lap,” Larry said. “Whatever we claw back will certainly pay the interest on the loan until the big bucks from the box office returns start to roll in,” Larry said.

“The interest!” Miss MacReady exclaimed. “Good grief, how much has Rossini borrowed, and more to the point, from whom?”

Larry chose to avoid that particular question. He got up and walked back to the desk, collecting the items Miss MacReady had been trying on as he went. He closed the lid of the case and shut the clasp.

“This is all highly irregular,” she told him, “I mean, it’s criminal, Larry, we could get into serious trouble.”

“What’s happening to Rossini, the franchise and the movie business in general, that’s what’s criminal, Kathleen,” he said, sternly.

She followed, him and standing very close, looked up into his eyes, she could smell his cologne - woody, expensive. She slipped a ring he had missed from her finger, and placed it lingeringly in his hand, stroking his palm with her nail.

“Well, well, Larry, you’re full of surprises. Of course I’ll help you, I’ll do whatever you want, I’ve never heard of anything so exciting,” she purred, running her tongue across her lips. Larry was beginning to perspire. She handed him the other whiskey. He knocked it straight back.

Chapter Fourteen
The Lynx Effect

Padar pulled a face as he pulled a pint. “Jaysus, what’s that smell?” He looked along the bar: a few locals in their usual spots, Sinead Porter in the snug with a glass of wine and one of those gossipy women’s magazines. He sniffed again. He looked at Shay, the ganger for the building workers. Shay shrugged. Padar moved along the bar, sniffing.

“Good God Sean, it’s you! What are you wearing at all? You stink. You smell like me Auntie Nellie’s knicker drawer, mothballs and stale lavender, ugh!”

Sean Grogan looked up from the newspaper he was pretending to read, while keeping an eye on the door.

“I’ll have you know I’m wearing the one that fella, David
Beckingham
wears, if it’s any of your business,” Sean said, haughtily. The main door to the bar swung open, every head turned to see who it was. Father Gregory filled the entrance. The men went back to their pints. Sinead looked up and smiled.

“Ah, Sinead,” he said, shaking rainwater off his cap, “do you mind if I join you, a couple of things needed for the project, I thought you might be able to help.” She nodded. “Good, I’ll get us a drink, so.” He went to the bar. “Dear Lord Padar, what are you using to clean the pipes these days? Smells like rotten eggs.”

 Padar flicked a look along the bar at Sean. The priest stood back.

“Good evening Sean. Something different about you, what is it?” the priest asked.

“Nothing new Father,” Sean replied.

“There is. New hairstyle?” Father Gregory referred to Sean’s few grey strands, flattened to his head with gel. “A new jacket?” Sean was wearing a purple velvet jacket; it had huge lapels and was well-worn at the elbows.

“I’ve had this years,” he told the priest.

“Aha, a new Holy Medal. Isn’t that nice, I haven’t seen a Holy Medal the likes of that in a long time,” Father Gregory said, eyeing the massive gold medallion on Sean’s bare chest.

“I didn’t know you could get Saint Christopher in life size. Has that
Beckingham-fella
one of them too?” Padar enquired, hiding his smirk with a glass cloth.

“Ah, can’t a man have a bit of a wash and brush up now and again around here?” Sean asked angrily, finishing his pint before stomping off to the gents.

“What’s that all about?” Father Gregory asked, paying for his drinks. He looked along the bar, Shay looked highly polished too: designer jeans, sharp shirt, freshly washed hair. The priest raised his eyebrows at Padar.

“You’ve heard of
‘
The Lynx effect’, well this is the ‘movie star-effect’. Your woman, Angelique de Marcos is staying here,” Padar said.

“Really, so she’s as attractive in real life as she is on screen then?” Father Gregory asked.

Shay overheard, “Attractive? She’s red hot, Father, and the shape of her.” Shay demonstrated Angelique’s womanly curves. “Jaysus, you wouldn’t mind having a bounce off that yourself, Father, and we wouldn’t say no to you giving us a go too.” The men laughed. Father Gregory scowled at Shay and was just about to reprimand him, when the door flew open and Angelique appeared like a vision in the midst of them. A wan-looking Dermot closed the door behind her. All mouths dropped open. Hair wild and flowing, Angelique wore a see-through blouse, leather shorts and thigh-high boots. Her lips and nails were ruby red, perfectly matching the fur draped across her shoulders.

“Well hello boys,” she called, sashaying up to the bar. Those who could find their voice mumbled a greeting.

“Parrdaar,”she dragged out Padar’s name seductively, “could you be a real sweetie and find me some of that fine French champagne? Put it on ice and bring it over to the fire for me, will you? Dermot gave me the most delicious breakfast...” she licked her lips, and half the men in the bar licked theirs, “...but we ran out of champagne. If there’s one thing that little old boat needs, it’s a bigger icebox.” She turned on her heel and strutted across the room to the fireside chair. Dropping her fur on it, she nestled in, crossing her long legs and smoothing the silk on her thighs with her palms. Dermot stared at the men at the bar, until each and every one of them went back to their beer. He took the champagne bucket and glasses off Padar.

“Celebrating something?” Padar asked, eyes twinkling.

“Yeah, surviving a night with that one!” Dermot replied under his breath.

“No way,” Shay overheard, “you lucky dog!”

Dermot shrugged, “One man’s meat...” Shay frowned.

“Is another man’s poison,” Father Gregory finished the quotation for him as he went to join Sinead, and Dermot pulled up a stool at Angelique’s feet.

Larry walked with Miss MacReady up as far as the priest’s house at the top of the village and turned left towards the coast road, which ran a complete circuit around the island. He had some thinking to do. It was Lena’s phone call the previous evening that set the cat among the pigeons and what she had to say was so disturbing Larry had been awake all night.

 Lena was aware Angelique was in Europe but only just found out she had been arrested at Heathrow, and following her overdose taken to a special unit awaiting further investigation. News that the movie star had made it to Innishmahon was as much a shock to her, as it had been to everyone else. Realising Angelique had the jewels with her, it was Lena’s idea to set up the heist.

 “But I can’t do that!” Larry barked into the receiver, “it’s illegal, we’ll all end up in gaol.” They were speaking on the landline, as he dusted the hall table in the cottage he was renting from Padar Quinn. But Lena talked him round, explaining Innishmahon was the ideal place to enact the perfect crime. He would be doing them
all
a favour, taking the jewels away from Angelique, preventing her from becoming embroiled in a scandal when it came to light what she had been up to, and by ensuring Rossini received the insurance money, he would also be helping to prop up the franchise and keep them all in business.

Larry had to smile. Lena really was the sharp end of the operation, a real tough cookie, with a heart of gold, however deep she hid it. She always looked out for them and he loved her for that.

 Larry stopped dusting and thought for a minute.

 “I’ll have to get the postmistress on side; the jewels are in the strong box there.”

 “Do whatever you need to. I’ll handle the heist, a couple of professionals, in and out in a flash. You just gotta make sure the cops turn up when it’s all over.”

 “That should be easy, there isn’t even a traffic cop on the island, they’ll have to come by sea,” Larry said.

 “Good and you need to be as far away from the action as possible, preferably back here in the US, not a hint of suspicion. We’re all squeaky clean, okay?”

 Larry’s heart was pounding in his chest; he needed one of his pills.

 “No-one is to get hurt, Lena. I can’t be involved if anyone gets hurt.”

 “Don’t worry, it’ll be a slick operation, over and done with, but this is between you, me and whoever else you
have
to involve. Don’t let on to Ryan or anyone else. This can’t go wrong, okay?” Lena said. “Look, Larry, I have to go, I’ve a meeting with Rossini’s publicity people. Whatever else happens, we still have a movie to make. How is our client by the way?”

 “Ryan’s good, all things considered. Angelique turning up was a bit of a shock but he and Marianne seem to be dealing with it. He’s so grounded here, I see the best of Ryan when he’s with Marianne,” Larry told her.

 “True love,” Lena laughed, “a rare and wonderful thing.” She hung up, and so did the other person listening on the line.

 Pleased he had Miss MacReady on side, Larry was going over the plan for the heist when he spotted Ryan and Monty running along the beach. It was a mild, bright day and even though the sun, hanging low in the sky, was streaked with the merest trail of cloud, it did little to cheer him; he felt chilled to the bone.

 “Morning Larry, out for a walk? Your physician back in New York will think you’ve had a miracle cure at the shrine at Knock, you look so well,” Ryan called as they ran towards him.

Must look better than I feel,
Larry thought, forcing a smile. Ryan stopped. Monty greeted Larry with a rub against his legs, Larry bent to scratch his ears.

“It’s the air don’t you think? It kind of energises you. I feel better here, about everything,” Ryan said. Larry could see that, Ryan looked fit: shiny slate-blue eyes, thick black hair with touches of silver, sculpted cheekbones, determined chin.

 “I know that look, Larry, my agent checking the stock. Don’t worry, I’ll be ready when the call comes. No crash dieting or intensive gym programme for me. I’ll be there, good to go.”

“Glad to hear it.” Larry picked up a stick and threw it for Monty. They started to walk back towards the village.

“Decided how long you’re staying? Marianne and I wanted to ask you over for dinner,” Ryan said.

Larry stopped and looked out to sea. “I’m gonna need to get back pretty soon.”

“Shall we invite Kathleen to dinner too? You seem to get along?” Ryan watched Larry’s face.

“Aw, come on now, no matchmaking, I ain’t her type,” Larry blushed.

“A little birdie tells me she thinks you are,” Ryan teased.

“Hey, stop with that, don’t be making something out of nothing,” Larry said.

“I’m not. Think we’ll invite her anyway, she’s great company, always a yarn or two to spin, not sure how much truth there is in Kathleen’s version of things, but for someone who’s spent most of her time on the island, she seems to have had an exciting life.”

“It’s about to get a whole heap more,” Larry said, into the collar of his coat.

“What was that?” Ryan asked.

“She certainly ain’t no bore,” Larry replied, stomach twisting.

Ryan and Monty returned from their run with Larry in tow, who went into spasms of ecstasy because they had pastrami and pickles in the fridge, insisting he made lunch for everyone. He raised an eyebrow when Marianne said she would leave them to it - she and Joey were lunching with Angelique in Maguire’s.

Marianne had been in the pub for over an hour and there was still no sign of Angelique. She sat quietly with Joey as locals drifted in and out. Padar made Joey a boiled egg, chopped up with butter for lunch, but Marianne was not hungry. The bar was empty when the vision appeared. She strolled in wearing a perfectly fitted cream trouser suit, ivory polo neck and elegant courts. Her hair was tied and wrapped in a coffee coloured silk scarf, pearl studs in her ears. If anything, the classic simplicity of the ensemble made her appear even more beautiful. She looked disappointed there was no public to greet her and, bringing a glass of clear liquid with her from behind the bar, joined them.

 “Hey, really glad you could make it,” she said, smiling too brightly.
I live two minutes away, I can easily make it.
Marianne thought, smiling back at Angelique, who clearly had no idea she was remotely late. Marianne was in no mood for feigned niceties.

 “Look, we’re never going to be in love with each other, so let’s not even try,” Marianne said. Angelique registered mild surprise. Marianne continued. “But we can be sensible for Joey and Ryan’s sake, all our sakes really.” Angelique’s smile stayed fixed, she pulled up a chair.

 “I so totally agree, honey. We both want what’s best for Joey, and Ryan’s basically a good guy, if a little screwy.”

Marianne gave her a look.

“In a nice way screwy, he really thinks he’s doing the right thing, dragging my poor child to this god-awful place and setting up home in, well, in nothing more than a cottage.” Angelique waved her hand.

“It
is
a cottage,” Marianne said.

“Anyways,” Angelique continued with the spooky smile, “I’m hoping you’ll be the voice of reason and get him to agree to my little package an’ all. That way, hey presto it’s all done, everyone’s gotten what they want and I’m outta here.”

Marianne let that go; it was too early in their conversation to begin negotiations. She lifted Joey from the rug where he was playing and looked at Angelique to see if there was even a glimmer of longing to hold her son, feel his skin against hers. Marianne loved to watch the light glint on his eyelashes, stroke the perfect smooth of his cheek, smell his hair. Angelique watched Marianne with her son, but her beautiful, dark eyes remained dark.

Safe in Marianne’s arms Joey looked up at his mother - eyes bright, questioning. Angelique touched his hand briefly. He went to grasp her shiny, ruby nails but she snapped her fingers back. She gave a nervous laugh. Marianne folded her hand over Joey’s.

“You can probably tell, I’m not that great with kids,” Angelique said, “I never planned...”

“That’s okay,” Marianne was dismayed at the woman, she had just lumped her one and only child in with the rest of the kids on the planet. “I’m not sure I am. I think the best tactic is just to be as natural as you can, they know if you’re forcing things.”

Angelique gave her head a little shake. “I’m sure you’re right honey, but it ain’t for me. Of course I’d give anything to have my boy with me the whole time, and I’m looking forward to spending time with him – eventually - but he needs care, a nanny, au pair, you know, professional help.”

Marianne frowned. “He’s a normal little boy.”