Murder on the Levels: An Exham on Sea Cosy Mystery (Exham on Sea Cosy Crime Mysteries Book 2) (10 page)

Leeds

It was still dark next morning, as Libby left home. The sun rose behind the Mendip hills, bathing the motorway in shades of salmon and peach. A flock of birds rose, briefly blotting out the sky. The newly serviced Citroen purred happily.

Four hours later, Libby’s satnav led her to a detached, Victorian house on the outskirts of Leeds. She drove past, assessing. The paintwork was neat, the windows clean, with bright curtains tied back at the side.

She checked the house number and, suddenly nervous, made her way up a short flight of steps, to the dark blue front door. A column of four bell buttons ran up the side, a name slotted next to each one. The house was divided into flats.

Libby held her finger on the lowest bell, belonging to an A. Grant. No one came. She tried the next, J. Brown,
and
drew another blank. The occupants must be at work. Or maybe they were students, still asleep. No, not students. The curtains were too tidy.

The top bell brought footsteps, faint at first, then louder. At last, the lock rattled and the door opened. A young woman cradled a baby on her shoulder. Almost as young as Ali, she was beautiful. Free of makeup, her perfect, English rose skin gleamed with health. Her eyes were enormous, deep brown, in contrast to the pale blond of her long hair. Her delicate, elf-like face, creased against the light, peered from the darkness of the passageway.

Libby glanced again at the name beside the bell. “Ms―er―James?”

“Yes. Do I know you?” The young woman frowned and shifted the child to her other hip.

“I’m Libby Forest.” Libby watched the woman’s face, expecting guilt or embarrassment. It betrayed only mild surprise. If this woman was Trevor’s secret mistress, she was also a brilliant actress.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said. “Please come in. I’m Tina, and this is Kyle.” Libby followed her up the stairs. “I’m afraid my husband’s at work at the moment.” Libby felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She could easily deal with one woman and her child. Tina went on, “We were wondering what would happen about the house. Were you wanting to go through the accounts?”

Libby shrugged and cleared her throat. “Yes, please. It’s taken a while to sort things out. Once I’ve dealt with the house, I’ll be able to wind up my husband’s affairs.”

Tina glanced back. “Your husband?” Her voice lifted at the end of every sentence, so Libby wasn’t sure if that was a question.

“Mr Forest, my husband.”

The woman’s brow cleared. “Oh, we were expecting his daughter. This house is in her name. Still, the others...” She left that thought hanging and went on up the stairs. Libby’s brain raced. Others? The letter mentioned a house for Robert. Were there more?

Tina reached the top of the house. Libby let her do the talking while she caught her breath and vowed to get fitter. “We keep everything in the study.” Tina led them through a green painted door into a wide and sunny apartment, simply furnished.

Tina set Kyle, a round mini-me with his mother’s hair and eyes, into a complicated stand that allowed him to sit in the middle of a kind of carousel of toys, where he fiddled, banged and gurgled happily. Tina left the room, returning in seconds with her arms full of files. “Do you want to look at these while I feed Kyle? Cal, my husband, deals with all the properties.”

Libby smiled, hiding the shock that made her hands shake. How many houses had Trevor owned? She took a deep, steadying breath. “How old is Kyle?”

“Just six months.” The baby could be Trevor’s, the voice in Libby’s head whispered. The missing husband could be imaginary. Don’t trust this woman. She seemed to know more about Trevor’s affairs than Libby had ever done.

Tina put a stack of files on the dining table at the far end of the room, near the bay window. Silently, Libby spread them over the surface, wondering what she should look for.
AJP Associates.
The name jumped out. Pritchards was part of AJP. Pritchards, the company that tried to buy Kevin’s land, that wanted more shops in Somerset.

Libby flipped a glance back towards the woman and her baby, just in time to see Tina slip a phone into her jeans pocket. Suddenly wary, Libby gathered up the files. “I’ll take these away, if I may, Mrs James.”

“Oh,” the woman’s face coloured. She looked round the room, distracted, seeming to search for a reason to object. “Why don’t you have something to drink first? I don’t think...” The door flew open, saving her from thinking.

A burly man, gorilla hands held close to his sides, like a gun fighter in a western, burst into the room. Libby jumped up, files clattering to the table, gripping the back of a chair, as two more, bigger, meaner-looking apes followed. “What’s going on ’ere, then?”

Tina nodded towards Libby. “She’s Mrs Forest.”

The man sneered. “Well, I never. And what brought you here?”

Libby licked dry lips, using every ounce of will-power to stay calm. “I―er―I gather this is my daughter’s house.”

“Do you now?”

A familiar voice sounded from the doorway. “That’s right.”

Libby spun round. “Max?”

Max ignored Libby and held out a hand to the gorilla. “Mr James. We meet again.”

The gorilla’s eyes narrowed, then opened wide. “I know you. Why, you’re...”

He covered the floor in two strides, to shove his face in Max’s. Max smiled, not moving an inch. “You must be Cal James. Good to meet you, although I fear you’ve been drinking. A bit early, don’t you think?” He wrinkled his nose and stepped sideways, closer to Libby. “I haven’t met your buddies, I’m afraid.”

“Oh.” James turned and waved his hands at the two heavies by the door. “All right, boys, Mr Ramshore won’t be giving us any trouble.”

Max took Libby’s arm. She let him lead her back to the table. He said, “We need to talk about these files that your wife has very kindly produced. I see you’ve met Mrs Forest, by the way. Trevor Forest’s wife. As you can see, she’s a little surprised. She didn’t know of your existence, or anything about the work you’ve been doing for her husband. I think it’s time we let her into some of his secrets, don’t you?”

Tea

“Before we begin, Cal,” Max said, “and in case you had any thoughts of getting rid of me, or Mrs Forest, I’ll just warn you my colleagues are outside. I only have to press one button on my phone, and they’ll be with us.” His head jerked towards the window. “At the moment, they’re enjoying McDonald’s best in that blue BMW on the other side of the road.”

Cal James reached the window in two strides. He swore. Libby wracked her brains, trying to remember if she’d seen the BMW on the motorway. No. She hadn’t noticed a thing. So much for her skills as an investigator.

The gorilla grunted. “Me and the wife, we don’t know nothing about anything. We just take the rents. For a fee.”

“And a nice, fat fee, I expect.” Max leaned back, the picture of relaxation. The two goons stood squarely in front of the door.

Max patted a chair. “Now, sit down and get comfortable. This might take a while. Maybe your wife, or girlfriend, or whatever, will offer us a nice, soothing cup of tea. And we won’t be needing your two friends.” His voice was as smooth as silk, but steel lay just beneath the surface.

Cal James dismissed the goons with a shrug and a wave. Their footsteps clattered down the stairs and the front door banged.

“I suggest you show me what’s been going on before I send for my colleagues. You’ll get credit in court, if you tell me what I need to know.” Max took his phone out of his pocket and laid it on the table, switching it to record. “Start talking, Cal. Things might not even get as far as a charge, if you’re helpful enough. Who knows?”

Libby sat on both hands to keep them from trembling. She hardly recognised Max. For a second, face rigid, he looked directly at Libby’s face, and one of his eyes twitched. The wink came and went so fast, Libby could hardly believe she’d seen it. She sat up straighter and squared her shoulders. She could play it cool, too. Her hand was steady as she sipped strong orange tea.

Max settled at the table, opening one file after another. “Libby,” he said. “I know a little more about Trevor than I mentioned when we talked yesterday.” She squirmed, the quarrel clear in her memory. Max went on, “We’ve been looking into his affairs for a while, now. He owns several properties.”

“That’s right.” Cal James grinned, showcasing a missing front tooth. Libby managed not to flinch.

Tina played with the baby, her lovely face betraying no interest in her husband’s business. Behind that beautiful exterior, there seemed to be very little brain. Libby smiled at Kyle. Poor baby, with these two for parents.

“Now, to business.” Max slipped off his jacket, hung it on a chair and rolled up his sleeves. “All we need from you, Cal, is a run-down of the properties, plus the names and addresses of anyone involved in buying and managing them. Easy enough, isn’t it? Start by showing Mrs Forest where the rent goes.”

An hour later, Libby’s head reeled. Her husband had owned more than a dozen properties. He’d put two of them in his children’s names. They, and others, were rented out, with hundreds of thousands of pounds of rent money tucked away in a succession of different bank accounts.

Max locked the files in his briefcase. “Right, we’ll be in touch.”

“Wait a minute. You can’t take everything. What do I tell...”

Max’s face was grim. “What do you tell your contacts when they find themselves locked out of the accounts? Not my problem, Cal. You’d better start thinking. Now, shall I call my friends and get them to take you to a nice, safe police cell?”

Cal rose. Max took Libby’s arm. “Come on, let’s go,” he drawled. “Thanks for the tea.” His fingers bit into her skin. “Have you got your car keys?”

Stumbling down the stairs, Libby fumbled in her bag, feeling through tissues, lipsticks, pens and loose coins with trembling fingers. She finally located the bunch of keys. “Here they are.”

She almost expected the Citroen to have vanished, but it was waiting where she left it, fifty yards down the road, as though nothing unusual had happened at all. They climbed in. Max snapped. “Get going. Fast.”

Libby turned the key in the ignition, foot on the accelerator, over-revving the engine. It spluttered. Her heart pounded. She tried again and it sprung to life. Libby caught sight of the two apes in a dirty, unmarked van on the corner. “Won’t your colleagues stop them following us?”

“What colleagues?”

“The ones in the...” Libby broke off, her insides sinking. “You mean, you were bluffing? You don’t have any back-up?”

“Sorry. None at all.”

The Citroen’s wheels squealed as Libby pumped the pedal. They were getting out of there as fast as the car could take them. “Max, we could have been killed.”

“Not by Cal James. He’s one of ours. But the others were looking nasty.”

“One of ours? One of our what?”

“Same team as me. It’s OK,” Max twisted to look behind, “I think Cal’s managed to call them off. Here, don’t forget your seatbelt.”

Relief tingled in Libby’s fingertips. “I think you’d better explain. Why did we have to make a dramatic escape, much as I enjoyed it, if Cal’s in your
team
.” She laid a heavy emphasis on the last word. Max wasn’t forgiven. Not at all.

“He’s under cover, and his wife doesn’t know who he is. One of the heavies is her brother.” It was true, the taller of the two, the least ape-like, had Tina’s pale, fair hair.

Libby shook her head, trying to clear it. “Are we in danger?”

“You’re perfectly safe. You don’t know anything and the gang we’re after will find you’re just who we said you are; an innocent wife with no idea what her husband was up to. Now, let’s get back to Exham.”

“Where’s your car? I take it you followed me up here.”

“It’s hired. I’ll courier the keys to the agency and they’ll pick it up. I had a feeling we’d be leaving in this very charming old tin can.”

Libby’s hands on the wheel had stopped trembling, but her voice squeaked. “Do I take it Trevor wasn’t the nine-to-five insurance salesman I thought?”

Max shook his head. “I’m sorry, Libby. It’s been a shock for you. I didn’t know what to say, last night. You see, I found Trevor’s name on some of the Pritchards invoices.”

Libby drew a sharp breath. “Pritchards?” The company she suspected of being behind of the poisonings, had links to Trevor.

Max was still talking. “You told me Trevor put a house in Leeds in your daughter’s name. When I found you’d gone, this morning, I put two and two together. I had a hunch you’d take matters into your own hands.”

“You mean, you didn’t trust me enough to tell me about my own husband?”

“I thought...”

“Oh, I bet I know what you thought. Poor little woman, mustn’t upset her. So much for our so-called partnership.”

Furious, Libby crunched the gears. Max looked straight ahead. Libby gave in. She needed to know the whole truth. “Are you going to tell me what’s been going on, or not? Was Trevor some kind of Mr Big?”

“No, but he was part of a large-scale fraud.”

Libby forced herself to sound cold and calm. “You mean, he was a criminal.” She drove on in silence, digesting the news, piecing together all the little clues. All those years together, and she’d had no idea. She’d ignored Trevor’s long days, supposedly in the office, the strict rule that his wife and children keep out of his study, his refusal to let her take any part in the family finances. All the time, he’d been a petty criminal.

She was glad she’d stopped loving him years ago, but she would never forgive him for involving Ali, by giving her the house. That must be part of the tax fraud. She thought of another angle. “Am I about to be in trouble? Will I lose my home?”

“No, of course not, but you won’t receive any of the ill-gotten gains. You see, Trevor was laundering money for a gang. It went through several hands, including his, on its way to becoming legitimate. It started with the gang’s ill-gotten gains, from a variety of crimes. Stolen cars, for example.”