Ring of Guilt (17 page)

‘Maidstone? Police Headquarters? Griff, what the fucking hell are you doing there?' I sat down hard on the stairs, since my legs seemed to have gone woolly.

‘My darling, your language! It's not yet seven o'clock.'

‘What
on earth
are you doing there?'

‘Having a word with young Will. What did you think? Where did you think I was going? I get this barrage of phone messages. My dear child, I wish you wouldn't worry so. We're going to have a cup of tea and a morsel of conversation, then I shall be on my way home.'

‘In that case I'd better put lunch back,' I said, grasping for something neutral to say. ‘We've got visitors. Morris and Penny, not to mention Leda.'

‘Maybe I should forego that tea. And, I fear, the conversation.'

Mrs Walker was more than qualified to show Morris and Penny our stock, though if I knew anything she'd be too busy fussing over the baby to think about selling anything. I sat on the bed, nuzzling Tim's ear, and thought about the rings. There was no doubt that Morris would recognize them. What sort of signal would that send? Did I really care? At last, I fished them out of their hiding place, gave them a bit of a polish, and sneaked into our office for a couple of price labels. Now they wouldn't look out of place in the display cabinet.

Penny was too busy trying to shut up a howling Leda to be looking at anything. Mrs Walker had found a silver teaspoon and was busy waving it at the poor child, talking to her, talking nineteen to the dozen. Morris was looking at a lovely eggshell Ruskin trio that I'd set the spotlights on.

‘Nice set Lina,' he said as I let myself in through the back door.

‘Very nice. Who could resist something like that? Every time I come in the shop I wave to it. I don't really want to sell it. And that's the first rule of dealing, to let things go.'

He looked at the price tag, and worked out the price. ‘But you would, if someone came along with a wad of cash. Quite a large wad of cash.'

‘Some things you can sell, some you can't. Dealers can't keep everything they like. Or sell everything they dislike, I suppose,' I added, trying to be witty, but in my ears sounding a bit false. There was a lot of what Griff would call subtext. ‘Want to look a bit more closely?' I unlocked the cabinet.

‘I know that trick of yours, Lina, my girl. She's got this wonderful ploy,' he said, raising his voice to explain to Penny, ‘of letting punters handle something they quite like but can't afford. As soon as they do, they're hooked. Happens all the time,' he said, closing the door with a click.

By this time, the combined efforts of Mrs Walker and Penny had silenced Leda, who had probably gone to sleep in sheer self-defence, chomping on the wrong end of the spoon. While Morris wandered over to them, I opened the jewellery display case and slipped the rings inside. I left it wide open, as if I was hinting they could make their selection as soon as they felt like it. I also ran my mind over the contents of our fridge and freezer: did we have enough to feed us all? – there was no way we could exclude Mrs Walker, now holding the sleeping baby and still cooing over her, from our feast.

Actually, now it came to it, I didn't want to see them looking into each other's eyes as she tried on possibilities. So a quick exit to the kitchen was a good option. I just smiled at Penny and patted the display case. I suspect she understood.

I intercepted Griff, who looked quite cross as he let himself into the cottage. He was clutching a paper carrier bag from the local delicatessen. ‘Lunch,' he said, handing it over.

‘They're choosing an engagement ring. I've put the other two in the case too.'

He knew at once which I meant. ‘My child, are you sure?'

‘Yes. Time I got over myself, Griff.'

‘Even so . . . I can't help hoping she selects something else.'

‘At that price? Go and see to it that she doesn't!' I pushed him gently to the shop.

I laid the dining table quickly, with a matching service and silver cutlery. Five of us. Where to put Leda? Penny's problem. Griff had brought baguettes, a couple of flans and two bags of salad. The rest was up to me. And it had to be seamless. A quality show. More competent than Morris would expect.

The best butter. Dressing. Cheese. Fruit – time to make it into a fruit salad? No. A cake from the freezer – I set it to defrost in the microwave. Another thought – if they chose a ring, champagne would be called for. But only wine if they didn't. Griff kept a supply of both chilling. Glasses, two sorts, both within reach but neither on show. Water glasses on the table too, plus a lovely crystal water jug I'd rescued from a skip a few months back.

Then I sat on the stairs again. All this was fine and dandy, but why had Griff gone to see Will and what was the outcome? And why had Morris come here when there were a thousand places to buy a ring? Whatever the reason, I'd pick his brain about Charles Broad-Ticeman. Paintings were his area. I was still at the know-what-I-like stage, with not a lot but my divvy instinct to back it. Fakes I could sniff a mile off. But I couldn't have told one Renaissance artist from another, except I did rather like that guy who did lovely light and shadows and died on the way back home after exile. Cara-something.

There was a lot of laughter – you could almost feel the smiles and happiness. I braced myself. She came in waving a pretty Edwardian ring, a centre diamond with strange ribbon shaped gaps between it and the twelve stones surrounding it, so the flesh of the wearer's finger showed through. Penny was dark enough for there to be a real contrast. It looked as if it had been made for her. It was also a clear three thousand pounds cheaper than the ones I'd just put in the case. That's business, I suppose. She was also making a great show of some cufflinks she was trying to insert in Morris's cuffs – a bit of subtext there, too. Still, they put more money in our coffers, so I fished out the champagne.

W
hen we'd finished lunch, Mrs Walker and Penny took Leda for a walk round the village. I'm not sure Penny wanted to leave us, but it was hard to resist Mrs Walker in full flood. Bredeham's pavements are too narrow for three abreast, so I had a good excuse to stay put. Not that I'd have budged anyway.

Although Griff was fussing round clearing it, I plonked my elbows on the table and said, ‘Charles Broad-Ticeman, Morris.'

‘A bit out of your league, Lina.'

‘You know him then.'

‘Know as in we've met or know as in he's appeared on the Squad's radar?' It must be the champagne talking; Morris was usually even more discreet than Griff was about his visits from X.

‘Either.'

‘Or, I suppose, neither. Let's just say I've heard of him.'

‘Same as I've heard of Caravaggio?' I gave myself a brownie point for remembering the name just when I needed it.

He looked at me, raising his eyebrow in the way I'd found so attractive. Resolutely, I didn't smile back. I wished he hadn't come here, wished his ringless wife had gone to H Samuel, wished she hadn't had to breastfeed Leda and most of all wished she wasn't such a nice woman.

‘Not quite,' he said. ‘Though I have come on both their names in fine arts magazines. As I'd have thought you would have, too.'

‘Right magazines, wrong pages,' I said, with a bit of a glower. ‘Stop messing about, Morris. Is he kosher or not? Why should his wife stick a tatty epergne on their priceless refectory table and break a piece off it? Why should she welcome me as if I was a spring flower—'

‘
Were
a spring flower, my love,' Griff put in, producing coffee in three old Derby cans and sitting down between us, like a referee. ‘One uses the subjunctive when there's no possibility of—'

‘Quite,' Morris agreed, suddenly tetchy.

Maybe it was best if I continued blithely, ‘And then, when she comes to collect the flower holder, does she treat me as if I'm less than the dirt on her shoe?'

‘Are you asking about her or about him? She might just be a spoiled, rude poor little rich girl for all I know. He – well, like I said, he's a big player. I'll ask around for you.'

‘Thank you. And see if you can find out why he should want my face on his security cameras? Not just one, a lot. And scattering my DNA all over the place. Even more, I suppose, if I'd had lunch with her.'

Morris nodded. ‘And you say she conducted most of her business with you out in the street?'

‘Paid cash, too. And wanted fifty pence change,' I added.

‘Ooh, such venom,' put in Griff, very camply.

Morris ignored him. ‘So will she be on your security system?'

‘Of course. Even though I doubt if she realizes it.'

He nodded. ‘Excellent. So what's your take on it?'

‘If you take it in con . . . conjunction? . . . with Habgood's rumour machine and Dilly wishing this pendant on me, I feel like that goat they tether to a stake to attract other animals; something nasty's lurking that may turn out to be tigers. And when your Kent colleagues join in and keep remarkably schtum about things I feel quite vulnerable.' There – I'd pronounced that
l
again.

‘Have you made any enemies?' Morris asked, just as if he was a brand new constable with a brand new pen interviewing a complete stranger.

‘I shouldn't imagine Lady Petronella's my best friend,' I said.

‘Perhaps not. But I can't imagine she's sitting in her prison cell organizing revenge. Can you?'

‘Not unless someone's smuggled a mobile phone inside,' I said, cocking my head in challenge.

‘Not, I accept, beyond the wit of man. Or woman. And it would explain one thing – why all this is focused on you, not Griff.'

‘Anyone attacking Lina attacks me.' This time he didn't sound at all camp.

‘I know that.' He smiled as he used to, but only at Griff. ‘But do they? Whoever
they
are, of course.'

I frowned. ‘So could all this be designed to separate me from Griff? Because someone I thought was pretty much a goody might have an interest in that, too.' I told him all about Harvey Sanditon, and his efforts to get me to join his firm. ‘On the other hand, I can't see how he'd benefit if I was disgraced. Or Habgood, of course. Who'd want a con for a granddaughter?'

‘He's still banging on about that, is he?' Then he surprised me. ‘What does Lord Elham make of it?'

Griff answered for me. ‘I think he'd consider horsewhipping an appropriate treatment. Much as I would, as it happens. We have spoken about it, Elham and I, as you'll have gathered.'

He was so pompous I wasn't surprised Morris hid a smile. He made an obvious effort to take control of the conversation again. ‘You mentioned the Kent police. Tell me about them.'

I ran through the story about my body for what seemed the twentieth time. To boost my rather dented ego, I was tempted to imply there was rather more between Will and me than there was, but then thought better of it. After all, if I hadn't picked up the phone when he called, Will hadn't responded to my message either.

‘Anything else?' he asked at last.

‘Only that I know that the area I found the body is still considered a crime scene, and there seems to be some hush-hush archaeological site in the same area. Titus,' I mouthed at Griff, as if I'd learned about it from him, not with him.

‘Been snooping?' Morris asked unkindly.

‘I have my sources,' I said, with dignity.

‘That old guy that drops off artefacts here?' Morris asked.

Griff literally went pale. ‘How do you know—?'

‘He rapped on your window while I was here, very early one morning, before Lina was stirring. I don't know who was more surprised, him or me.'

‘Lina's never met him,' he said quickly.

‘I have a contact of my own, someone Griff loathes,' I said, just as quickly. I think we overlapped.

‘And no, you're not going to tell me who. OK, doesn't matter for the time being. Look,' he said, getting to his feet, as we heard the ominous sound of Mrs Walker's voice doing baby talk, ‘if I have a moment I'll do some sniffing around. One thing, though, Lina, I'd rather you only contacted me on my work phone or my work email address. I'm sure you understand.'

Until that moment I'd gone along with his decision about us. It was the right one, for heaven's sake. But just at that instant, I really hated him. Not just for starting the relationship in the first place, but for telling me off like that in front of Griff. My chin went up. ‘I quite understand.'

All the same, I felt more alone at that moment than I had since I'd found the body.

Perhaps he sensed my anger. Or at least he knew he'd done something wrong. He sat down again. ‘That body. If it moved, it might not have been dead.'

‘Quick thinking,' I said, managing a bit of sarcasm. Though I should really have thought of that before. If only my brain wasn't like blancmange.

‘And it might not have liked your drawing the attention of my colleagues to it,' he continued as if I hadn't spoken. ‘So I think we should add him to the circle of people who might have a motive for harming you, don't you?'

‘Harm her?' Griff got up and put his hands on my shoulders. ‘Harm
her
? Not just her reputation?'

‘Who knows? I don't suppose,' Morris said idly, ‘you've ever seen him again, have you?'

I turned to Griff, my eyes rounding despite themselves. ‘You remember the guy who tailgated us to Six Mile Garage? No, of course you wouldn't – you were asleep and then all you wanted was the loo. But when he turned his gas-guzzler towards Canterbury, I caught sight of his profile. And I just wondered if I recognized it.'

‘E-fit?' Morris asked.

I shook my head. ‘That'd make it way too official. It was only a passing fancy.'