Murder Most Merry (57 page)

“That isn’t the point,” said Andy. “We’re calling his bluff.”

“So you say. And if by some freak of circumstances you’re mistaken, how will any of us live with it for the rest of our lives? I’m telling you, Andy, I’m frightened. I know what you’re thinking. I can see it in your eyes. I’m gullible, a stupid, immature female. Well I don’t mind admitting I’m bloody frightened. If none of you wants to take this seriously that’s up to you. I do. I’m going to put all the money I have into a bag and take it to that phone box. If nobody comes, what have I lost? Some dignity, that’s all. You can laugh at me every Christmas from now on. But I mean it.” She stood up.

“Hold on,” said Andy. “We’ve heard what you think. What about the rest of us?”

“It isn’t quite the same for you, is it?” said Pauline. “He’s my brother.”

“He’s Gemma’s brother, too. And Geoff’s.”

Andy switched to his wife. “What do
you
want to do about it?”

Gemma hesitated.

“Or Geoff,” said Andy. “Do you have an opinion, Geoff?”

Geoffs hand went to his collar as if it had tightened suddenly.

Gemma said, “Pauline is right. Ten to one it’s Reg having us on, but we can’t take the risk. We’ve got to do something.”

Geoff nodded. He backed his sisters.

Pauline said, “I’m going upstairs to collect my jewellery, such as it is. We pool everything we have, right?”

“Right,” said Gemma, unfixing her gold earrings and turning to Andy. “Do you want to be part of this, or not?”

Andy slapped his wad of bank notes on the table. “I don’t believe in these kidnappers anyway.”

“Let’s have your watch, then,” said Gemma. “And the ingot.”

Geoff took out his wallet and emptied it.

The heap of money and valuables markedly increased when Pauline returned. She’d found some family heirlooms, including their grandmother’s diamond-studded choker, worth several thousand alone. With her own pieces and the travellers’ cheques, the collection must have come close to the value demanded in the note. She scooped everything into a denim bag with bamboo handles and said, “I’ll get my coat.”

Gemma told her, “Not you, sweetie. That’s a job for one of the men.”

Andy said, “Give the bag to me.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” said Gemma. “You’re way over the limit with all the brandy you’ve had. Besides, you don’t know the way.”

They turned to look at Geoff. He knew the way. He had said so.

“I’ll go,” he said, rising quite positively from the armchair. He looked a trifle unsteady in the upright position, but he’d been seated a long time. Maybe the brandy hadn’t gone to his head. He had certainly drunk less than Andy.

Gemma still felt it necessary to ask, “Will you be all right?”

Geoff nodded. He had spoken. There was no need for more words.

Pauline asked, “Would you like me to come?”

Andy said, “The instruction was clear. If you believe it, Geoffs got to go alone.”

In the hall, Pauline helped Geoff on with his padded jacket. “If you see anyone, don’t take them on, will you? We just want you and Reg safely back.”

Geoff looked incapable of taking anyone on as he shuffled across the gravel to his old Cortina, watched from the door by the others. He placed the bag on the passenger seat and got in.

“Is he sober?” Gemma asked.

“He only had a couple,” said Andy.

“He looked just the same when he arrived,” said Pauline. “He’s had a hard time lately. So many businesses going bust. They don’t need accountants.”

Gemma said, “If anything happened to him just because Reg is acting the fool, I’d commit murder, I don’t mind saying.”

They heard the car start up and watched it trundle up the drive.

When the front door closed again, Gemma asked, “What time is it?”

“Twenty past,” said Pauline. “He should just about make it.”

Andy said, “I don’t know why you two are taking this seriously. If I believed for a moment it was a genuine ransom demand I wouldn’t have parted with three hundred pounds and a Rolex. I assure you.”

“So what would you have done, cleverclogs?” said Gemma.

This wrongfooted Andy. He spread his hands wide as if the answer were too obvious to go into.

“Let’s hear it,” said Gemma. “Would you have called the police and put my brother’s life at risk?”

“Certainly I’d have called them,” said Andy, recovering his poise. “They have procedures for this sort of emergency. They’d know how to handle it without putting anyone’s life at risk.”

“For example?”

“Well, they’d observe the pickup from a distance. Probably they’d attach some tiny bugging device to the goods being handed over. They might coat some of the banknotes with a dye that responds to ultraviolet light.”

Gemma turned to Pauline. “I’m wondering if we should call them.”

Andy said, “It’s too late. The police would have no option but to come down like a ton of bricks. Someone would get hurt.”

Pauline said, “Oh God, no. Let’s wait and see what happens.”

“We won’t have long to wait. That’s one thing,” said Andy. “You don’t mind if I switch on the telly, Pauline?”

They sat in silence watching a cartoon film about a snowman.

Before it finished, Pauline went to the window and pulled back the curtain to look along the drive.

“See anything?” asked Gemma.

“No.”

“How long has he been gone?”

“Twenty-five minutes. Chilton Leys is only ten minutes from here, if that. He ought to be back by now.”

“Stop fussing, you two.” said Andy. “You give me the creeps.”

Just after six, Pauline announced, “A car’s coming. I can see the headlights.”

“Okay,” said Andy from his armchair. “What are we going to do about Reg when he pisses himself laughing and says it was a hoax?”

Pauline ran to the front door and opened it. Gemma was at her side.

“That isn’t Geoffs Cortina.” said Gemma. “It’s a bigger car.”

Without appearing to hurry. Andy joined them at the door. “That’s Reg’s Volvo. Didn’t I tell you he was all right?”

The car drew up beside Andy’s and Reg got out, smiling. He was alone. “Where’s the red carpet, then?” he called out. “Merry Christmas, everyone. Wait a mo. I’ve got some prezzies in the back.” He dipped into his car again.

“You’d think nothing had happened,” muttered Gemma.

Laden with presents, Reg strutted towards them. “Who gets to kiss me first, then?” He appeared unfazed, his well-known ebullient self.

Andy remarked. “He’s walking normally. We’ve been suckered.”

Gemma said, “You bastard, Reg. Don’t come near me, you sadist.”

Pauline shouted, “Dickhead.”

Reg’s face was a study in bewilderment.

Andy said, “Where’s Geoff?”

“How would I know?” answered Reg. “Hey, what is this? What am I supposed to have done?”

“Pull the other one, matey,” said Andy.

“You’ve ruined Christmas for all of us,” said Pauline, succumbing to tears.

“I wish I knew what you were on about,” said Reg. “Shall we go inside and find out?”

“You’re not welcome,” Pauline whimpered.

“Okay, okay,” said Reg. “It’s a fair cop and I deserve it after all the stunts I pulled. Who thought of unloading all this on me? Andy, I bet.”

Suddenly Gemma said in a hollow voice, “Andy, I don’t think he knows what this is about.”

“What?”

“I know my own brother. He isn’t bluffing. He didn’t expect this. Listen, Reg did anyone kidnap you?”

“
Kidnap me?
”

“We’d better go inside, all of us,” said Gemma.

“Kidnap me?” repeated Reg, when they were in Pauline’s living room. “I’m gobsmacked.”

Pauline said, “Andy found this parcel on my doorstep and—”

“Shut up a minute.” said Andy. “You’re playing into his hands. Let’s hear his story before we tell him what happened here. You’ve got some answering to do, Reg. For a start, you’re a couple of hours late.”

Reg frowned. “You haven’t been here all afternoon?”

“Of course we have. We were here by four o’clock.”

“You didn’t get the message, then?”

“What message?”

“I’ve been had then. Geoff phoned at lunchtime to say that Pauline’s heating was off. A problem with the boiler. He said the party had been relocated to his place at five.”

Pauline said. “There’s nothing wrong with my boiler.”

“Shut up and listen.” said Gemma.

Reg continued. “I turned up at Geoffs house and there was a note for me attached to the door. Hold on—I should have it here.” He felt in his pocket. “Yes, here it is.” He handed Gemma an envelope with his name written on it.

She took out the note and read to the others,” ‘Caught YOU this year. Now go to Pauline’s and see what reception you get.‘ It’s Geoffs handwriting.”

“He’s a slyboots,” said Reg, “but I deserve it. He was pretty annoyed by the turkey episode last year.”

“You’re not the only victim,” said Gemma.

“Were you sent on a wild-goose chase?”

“No. But I think he may have tricked us. He
must
have. He led us to believe you were kidnapped. That’s why he went to this trouble to keep you away.”

“Crafty old devil.”

“He took ten grand off us,” said Andy.

“What?”

“He persuaded us to put up a ransom for you.”

“Now who are you kidding?”

“It’s true.” said Gemma. “We put together everything we had, cash, jewellery, family heirlooms, and Geoff went off to deliver it to the kidnappers.”

“Strike me pink!”

“And he isn’t back yet,” said Andy.

Pauline said, “Geoff wouldn’t rob his own family.”

“Don’t count on it,” said Reg. “He doesn’t give a toss for any of us.”

“Geoff?”

“Did you know he’s emigrating?”

“No.”

“It’s true,” said Reg. “He’s off to Australia any day now. I picked this up on the grapevine through a colleague in the bank. I think the accident made him reconsider his plan, so to speak.”

“What accident?”

“There you are, you see. I only heard about that from the same source. Old Geoff was in hospital for over a week at the end of September and the last thing he wanted was a visit from any of us.”

“A road accident?”

“No. he did it himself. You know how keen he is on the garden. He’s got this turfed area sloping down to the pond. He ran the mower over his foot and severed his big toe.”

THE THEFT OF SANTA’S BEARD – Edward D. Hoch

The New York stores had closed at nine that evening, disgorging gift-laden Christmas shoppers by the hundreds. Most were too busy shifting the weight of their parcels and shopping bags to bother digging for coins as they passed the bell-ringing Santa on the corner. He was a bit thin and scraggly compared to the overstuffed Santas who worked the department stores and bounced tiny children on their knees while asking for their Christmas lists. His job was only to ring a little hand-held bell and accept donations in a chimney-shaped container.

This Santa’s name was Russell Bajon and he’d come to the city expecting better things. After working at a variety of minimum-wage jobs and landing a couple of short-lived acting roles off Broadway, he’d taken the Santa Claus job for the holidays. There was no pay, but they supplied his meals and a place to sleep at night. And there were good fringe benefits, enough to keep him going till he was back on his feet with a part in a decent play.

After another fifteen minutes the crowd from the stores had pretty well scattered. There were still people on the dark streets, as there would be for most of the night, but those remaining hurried by his chimney without even a glance. He waited a few more minutes and then decided to pack up. The truck would be coming by shortly to collect the chimney and give him a ride back to the men’s dorm where he slept.