Page 99 of The Impossible Fortune
‘Hmm,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Perhaps she does bad things and doesn’t tell you about them. Why did you move up to Manchester?’
‘Jill wanted a fresh start,’ says Jamie. He looks over to Bogdan and says, very meekly, ‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea.’
‘Make it yourself,’ snarls Bogdan.
‘We can drop it now, Bogdan,’ says Elizabeth.
Bogdan gives a happy nod. ‘Milk and sugar?’
‘Uhh, just milk,’ says Jamie, and Bogdan heads to the kitchen.
‘So it was her idea to go to Manchester?’ says Elizabeth.
‘Well …’ begins Jamie, his brain making recalculations. ‘Yeah, it was, but because of me.’
‘And did she have any close friendships down here?’ Elizabeth asks. Have they been blinded by Jamie’s past? Have they been hoodwinked by the sweet little nursery-school teacher afraid of trouble? Too many people in this case have secrets. Does Jill Usher have a secret that explains the whole thing?
‘A few,’ says Jamie. ‘Work friends and that.’
‘Did she ever mention a Holly Lewis?’
Jamie shakes his head, like he wants to help but can’t. ‘Honestly, I’ve never heard the name before.’
Bogdan walks back in with a tea for Jamie.
‘Thank you,’ says Jamie, then looks at Elizabeth. ‘Who are you? Who was the woman you were with?’
‘That was Joyce,’ says Elizabeth. ‘We’re investigating the murder of Holly Lewis. And the whole investigation seems to hinge on why she rang your phone number.’
‘You have to believe me,’ says Jamie. ‘It can’t be me, and it can’t be Jill. It’s not possible.’
Elizabeth looks at Bogdan. He shrugs. ‘Perhaps it was a wrong number?’
Not Jamie and not Jill. But surely not a wrong number? Holly Lewis, in a panic, keying in the wrong digits?
Or was she keying in the right digits? Elizabeth almost laughs.
‘I have Holly’s code.’
54
Bill Benson drags open the door of the cage and in steps Lord Townes. The Compound is high-tech in every way other than the cage. This cage and its mechanism were taken from Betteshanger Colliery after it had been decommissioned, and must be seventy years old. It had been in a working museum in Rye before Nick Silver purchased it. Bill and Frank had both told Nick Silver that they trusted it more than any modern lift and, by the time the museum custodians had discovered just how much money might outweigh a pristine example of Britain’s industrial heritage, it had been more expensive than any modern lift too.
‘Morning, Lord Townes,’ says Bill.
‘Morning, Bill,’ says Lord Townes. Bill has always been waiting for the day when Lord Townes says, ‘For goodness’ sake, don’t call me Lord Townes, call me Robert,’ but that day has yet to come. You often found that. Back in the seventies the chairman of the Coal Board had been a ‘Sir’ and would refuse to continue any negotiations until you addressed him as such. Nonsense. Frank would also refuse to answer if you didn’t call him ‘Comrade’. One of the many reasons negotiations went on for so long, Bill supposes. Bill is not a political man and will call you whatever makes you feel comfortable.
‘How’s the weather up there?’ Bill asks.
‘Clement,’ says Lord Townes. ‘Quite clement.’
Bill nods. He has still never found anything Lord Townes likes to talk about. He’s tried football, always his first port of call, but nothing doing. He’s tried boxing and horse racing, because the posh ones often go for that, but nothing again. Tennis hadn’t worked, and golf hadn’t moved the dial. Bill has now tried everything. The cage continues its slow descent.
‘You a snooker man, Lord Townes?’ Bill asks.
‘Snooker? No,’ says Lord Townes. He looks nervous, which makes Bill nervous, but, really, what can go wrong here? Lord Townes just wants to collect something from his safe, none of Bill’s business what. Bill has told Ron of his arrival, left him a message, but nothing back yet. Ron will be interested though, surely?
Yep, Lord Townes is nervous, but there’s all sorts of reasons to be nervous in life. For example, Bill has a prostate exam tomorrow and is nervous about that.
