Found Guilty at Five (7 page)

T
WELVE

“C
OWGILL RANG,”
G
RAN SAID, AS
L
OIS CAME THROUGH THE
kitchen door. “Said to ring him as soon as you came in.”

“Where’s Jamie?”

“Gone out. Everybody went out, except me and Jeems. Good job there’s somebody here to hold the fort.”

“Yes, well. Thanks, Mum. I’ll go and ring Cowgill. Let’s hope he’s got some good news about Akiko. Jamie’s falling to pieces, I reckon.”

“No, he’s not. I sometimes think I know your children better than you do. He’ll be all right. He may look worried—and who wouldn’t?—but he’s strong inside. You’ll see.”

“Well, thanks for telling me,” answered Lois, and disappeared into her office before she should find herself in another fight with her mother.

Cowgill answered the phone straightaway. “Ah, Lois. I have news, but not good, I’m afraid.”

“Akiko? Has something happened to her?”

“Well, that’s just it. We don’t know. We had circulated her particulars, of course, and asked for an eye to be kept open for her. One of the lads, quite by chance, saw a girl on some steps outside a block of flats, rather late on Monday night, looking lost and frightened. It was Jamie’s address. Our lad spoke kindly to her, but she refused to give him any sensible details about herself. Told him she’d had a lover’s tiff, and then ran off.”

“Not Akiko, then? Is that what you rang to tell me?”

“Yes and no. We think it probably
was
Akiko. I recognised his description of the girl straightaway, but of course it was dark, with a dim streetlight, and his impression is in no way conclusive. Nevertheless, Lois, I think we should be following this up.”

“You mean to say a fine, healthy young policeman, fully trained, could not catch a mere slip of a girl, all alone and unprotected?”

“My reaction, too. He’s been told, but said she ran across the road to a waiting van, and they disappeared at speed. He judged that she had been fooling him, and left it there. But how polite you are this afternoon! In the old days, you’d’ve yelled at me that I knew nothing about anything and a child of five could’ve caught her! But still, the answer’s the same. He didn’t catch her, and we are continuing our enquiries.”

Lois ended the call.

“Mum? Can I come in?” It was Jamie at her office door, and Lois nodded wearily. “Come on, boy, sit yourself down. Where’ve you been? Is Gran still in the kitchen?”

“I just went for a walk and a think. And yeah, Gran’s getting tea things out. Says I look like something the cat brought in.” He smiled wanly.

“I’ve just had a call from Inspector Cowgill. Seems they had a sighting of a girl who might have been Akiko. She ran faster than the policeman, and they have not yet caught up with her.”

“So we know she’s alive!” He leaned back in his chair, took a deep breath and managed a smile.

“Did you think she might not be? Is there something you’re not telling us, Jamie?”

He was silent for a minute or so, then said that perhaps he should tell her something Akiko had told him. Lois nodded and waited.

“She said that when she first came to London, her father, who is so old that he was a young soldier in World War Two, warned her to keep quiet about her origins and not answer idle questions about what her daddy did in the war. He also told her not to flash her money about, nor let on that he was very rich. Said it would make her vulnerable to predators.”

“Sounds very overprotective to me!” Lois replied. “Did she say anything else?”

“Nope, nothing more. I’ve told you all I know. Anyway, I’d better go back to London soon, now I know she’s alive. I’m much more likely to find her there than if I wander about Farnden like a fart in a kettle.”

“A
what
? You’d better go and see how Gran’s getting on with tea.”

*   *   *

J
AMIE’S RELUCTANT MENTION OF
A
KIKO’S ORIGINS CAME BACK TO
Lois when she set off to take Jeems for her evening walk through Farnden Hall spinney. Here there were interlinking footpaths, and she was familiar with all of them. Mrs. T-J, in her time, had kept these private, except for friends, and Lois was on her list. Now Norrington had put up signposts with twee names, like Piglet’s Home and Rabbit Town. The first was an old clearing where a long-dead cottager had kept a pig in a now-disintegrating pigsty, and Rabbit Town was, of course, the rabbit warren, a mass of burrows. She had once sprained her ankle when her foot had disappeared down a rabbit hole.

So, Lois thought, as she climbed a stile with barbed wire threaded across the top, Akiko had come from Japan, whose soldiers seventy-odd years ago had invaded Burma and set up grisly prisoner-of-war camps for incarcerating the enemy, using them as slave labourers to build the notorious Death Railway. And the enemy was us, Lois thought. Thousands of British and Americans and their allies. When they died of malnourishment, disease and neglect, they were put aside like dead dogs. No, not like dead dogs. Dogs would be better treated.

But for now, her concerns were for Jamie, her precious son, who could be mixed up with all of that, though for the life of her she could not see why or how.

She walked on, head down on the lookout for rabbit holes and traps. Norrington had hired a new gamekeeper. He was neat and tidy, but kept himself to himself. Derek had reported that he’d seen him in the pub on his own, not making any attempts at friendship. He lived in the gamekeeper’s cottage, and was reputed to have an attractive blonde with him. He had apparently been employed by Norrington to set up a commercial pheasant shoot, and had claimed experience in various locations around the country. He had not mentioned his name in the pub, as far as Derek could remember.

“Good morning, madam!”

Lois stopped suddenly, startled by the loud voice. He was there, wearing the kind of muddy green that renders countrymen almost invisible, and was blocking her way. He carried a gun in the correct manner, and smiled at her.

“Morning,” Lois replied. “Sorry—I don’t think I know you?”

“Just call me Mellors,” he said, and burst out laughing.

“I’ve read it,” said Lois flatly. Conceited idiot! Thinks he can turn on the charm, just because I’m female.

“Ah, well done,” he said. “Lady Chatterley, I presume?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, man. I’m in a hurry, so could you please let me through.”

The path was narrow, with high nettles on either side. Lois hadn’t bothered to change into thick trousers, and was determined not to be stung.

“There’s just one thing,” he said. “I believe you are trespassing. This is private woodland, except on days when Mr. Norrington opens it to the public. And this isn’t one of those days. And then there’s the pheasants. I’m here to protect these valuable birds from dogs such as yours.” He pointed at Jeems, who sidled up close to Lois and growled.

“I always keep her on a lead,” said Lois, though this was not strictly true. Many local people had for years walked their dogs in the spinney, chiefly because it was a wonderful place for snuffles and sniffs, and setting up clattering pigeons.

“Right, well, on you go then. Just find another place to exercise your dog, please.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I shall get permission from Mr. Norrington, if that’s what’s needed. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to hear his gamekeeper is so keen on his job.”

“Then we may meet again, Lady C,” the man said, and strode off, whistling.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny,” Lois said aloud to Jeems. “Too clever by half. One to watch, I reckon, don’t you?” Jeems pricked her ears and growled again. She was good at recognising an enemy.

T
HIRTEEN

T
HE TRAIN TO
L
ONDON WAS HALF EMPTY, AND
J
AMIE CHOSE
a window seat. He had a paperback that his father had thrust into his hands at the last minute, saying it would take his mind off Akiko. It was a collection of Matt cartoons, and in spite of himself he began to smile and feel more cheerful.

By the time he reached London, he had decided that they had all been worrying about nothing. The theft of the cello was serious, of course, but there were other cellos, and Akiko had it insured. Then all that stuff about a poisoned sandwich. Talk about melodrama! Really, Inspector Cowgill could see trouble everywhere.

Akiko would turn up. He was sure of that. After all, although the two of them had been playing music together for some while, she had kept her personal life very separate from her professional relationships. Until recently, maybe? Yes, of course he cared about her safety. Who wouldn’t? She was as beautiful as fragile porcelain, and was always pleasant and considerate. The perfect colleague, then? But nothing more, as far as he was concerned.

He was almost chirpy as he reached his flat and inserted the key in the lock. But the minute he stepped inside, he knew something was wrong. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck, and he listened hard. No sounds, no footsteps, nothing. He clutched the Matt cartoon book like a talisman, and walked slowly into the kitchen. Everything in order, just as he had left it. He turned and made for the sitting room. His large windows had a view over half of London, and there, standing with his back to him, was a man.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jamie’s voice was shrill with panic.

The man turned to face him. “Hi, Jamie,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

*   *   *

R
ELIEF FLOODED THROUGH
J
AMIE.
I
T WAS HIS FRIEND FROM WAY
back, a violinist who had been at college with him and was now playing in a string quartet based in Manchester. He had shared the flat with Jamie when they were students, and, of course, he still had a key. They had kept in touch with emails and texts, and occasionally met for an evening of catching up.

“Alan! Wonderful to see you. Forgive my lack of a welcome, but I didn’t recognise the smart suit!”

“You okay, son?” It had been a joke between them that Alan was a year older and more mature, and had adopted the role of proxy father to Jamie. “You look as if you’d seen a ghost.”

“No, no, I’m fine. Just not expecting to find someone in the flat. How are you, Alan? Bookings good? Still filling the concert halls in the provinces?”

“Very much so. Manchester’s a good place these days. Now the Beeb has come to town, I reckon it rivals London. We get the flags of all nations some weeks. You name a country, and I can give you at least three visiting soloists.”

“Great—now, let’s open a bottle and fix ourselves some food. I assume you’re staying the night? Sofa’s quite comfortable. Goodness, Alan, I am really pleased to see you.”

So there
was
something wrong, Alan said to himself. He had lived with Jamie long enough to read his face. No doubt he’ll tell all over supper.

*   *   *

I
T WAS AFTERNOON BY THE TIME
A
KIKO AND
P
ARSONS REACHED
the tiny village that acted as a dormitory for wealthy tycoons in business in Glasgow. About a couple of miles outside the city boundary, it was placed strategically on a hill, less than a mile from the main road, and with good views of the countryside and impressive new industrial buildings springing up all round. She guessed that Parsons was keen for a conversation and so decided to keep silent. She did not trust him one inch. They turned into a long drive and drove slowly for what seemed like at least another mile. A tall building loomed up, and the car halted outside an arched porch, itself almost as large as a small house.

The driver got out, walked round to her door and opened it. “Here we are, Miss Akiko. You will be wanting to go straight in to see your father, no doubt. I will see to your case. Just be wary of the new wolfhounds your father has installed.”

He laughed loudly, and Akiko told him to stop talking nonsense and to take her case indoors at once. She followed him up a flight of stone steps to the door, which now stood open, with a liveried servant waiting.

“I know the way perfectly, thank you,” Akiko said. “I shall go straight up.” She ascended the wide staircase and knocked at a heavy oak door.

“Come in, my child,” said a faint, precise voice. She entered and looked round the high-ceilinged, softly lit room. There were dark red velvet curtains and deep matching armchairs, in one of which, well supported by cushions, sat a small tubby man with Asian features. He was very old, but his eyes were young and bright, and when he looked up at her, they twinkled.

“My precious daughter. How lovely to see you,” he said warmly. “I trust you had a comfortable journey in that dreadful van? Parsons’s idea. We had something of an emergency, and I am sorry it was perhaps a false alarm. The doctor is hopeful, I am glad to say.”

Akiko bowed slightly. “Don’t worry, Father,” she said. “The van was adequate. But how are you now? Should you be out of bed?”

He didn’t answer her, but motioned to Parsons, who had followed her into the bedroom, carrying her case. “Thank you, Ezekiel,” he said. “Well done. That will be all now.”

When he had gone, Akiko walked to an armchair opposite her father and sat down. “Papa,” she said gently, “I was so worried. Parsons was not my ideal companion, but I realise there was little time to arrange things. How are you, really?”

“I have been quite ill, but you must not worry,” he replied. “I have an excellent doctor and he has given me the green light. If I am sensible, I can go forward into a contented old age.”

“But, Papa, you are already in your old age. It is time to retire completely. Why don’t you hand over to your deputy and take a long-deserved rest? I know you are happier back in Japan. You could stay over there now and catch up with old friends. And what’s more,” she added with some feeling, “we could get rid of Parsons. He is not a good person. With me he is disrespectful, rough and unpleasant!”

She was answered by a blank stare from her father. “Not at the moment,” he said eventually. “I cannot discuss Ezekiel. Please do not mention it again.”

Unwilling to upset him, she dropped the subject, and her father reached for a glass of water.

“And if I did what you suggest, what about you, my child?” he continued. “When would I see my only beloved daughter if I give up spending time in this country? We have the office in London where you can more easily visit me, and keep me in touch with everything you are doing, until you decide to return to Japan. Then we can go together. This recent illness has made me even more concerned for your future than I always have been.”

Akiko shook her head. “There is no need, Papa,” she said gently.

“But when I am gone, you will be quite alone,” he continued. “There will, as you are aware, be no problem with finance, but money does not replace old friends and relations in your own country. It is my hope that you will find a nice Japanese boy and make your own family. Come, give me a kiss and say you understand and agree.”

Akiko stood up, frowning. “Papa!” she said, forgetting about upsetting him. “Is that the real reason you have brought me up here and frightened me out of my wits? To make sure I return to Japan? Have you really been near to death, as Parsons told me?”

“I have explained, my dear. There is life in the old dog yet, as the English say. Parsons is not a blessing, I agree, but we do not discuss him further.”

“If not now, when?” Akiko said, quietly now.

“In good time. One day, I will tell you, but not now.”

“Then I suppose I must wait,” she said. “But now that I see you are not in immediate danger, I have to explain why I must return to London as soon as possible.”

This explanation took some time to convince Nakamasa that his daughter was serious. He had been so used to organising her life, and still could not really accept that she had cut herself free from him. Now, however, when she assured him she must find a way to return to her colleague and her career as quickly as she could, he suggested she should leave him to think for a while, and get some food from the housekeeper.

“Come back when you have finished, my dear, and we will talk some more.” Nakamasa put his hand to his heart. “And remember,” he said, “my excellent doctor did emphasize that I should take care of myself to enjoy my remaining years with my beloved daughter.”

“I
am
hungry, Papa,” Akiko said, ignoring this blatant emotional blackmail. “I will be back shortly.”

*   *   *

F
EELING STRONGER WITH GOOD FOOD INSIDE HER,
A
KIKO
returned to her father, determined to make it clear to him that she did not intend to return to Japan on a permanent basis. Her life was now very much bound up with her feelings for Jamie, but she knew better than to mention an English boyfriend.

“Ah, there you are. You look much more rested and happy,” said Nakamasa. “More like my little Akiko.”

“Yes, well, Papa, I am not so little anymore. This is what we have to talk about. You see, my career is all-important to me. I am doing well, making progress, and becoming known for being a fine cellist.”

She wondered whether to mention the stolen cello, but decided not. Her father would immediately arrange for her to have another equally good one, but that would come with more strings attached.

“The life of a solo player is a peripatetic one,” she continued. “We must go wherever the opportunities are, and this means concert halls all over the world. This does not trouble me. I love travelling and do not find it at all onerous. This I must have inherited from you! You are a much-travelled man, Papa. So you see, it is not worth you risking a setback by trying to follow me around the globe.”

Nakamasa frowned. “That is for me to decide, Akiko,” he said, a stern note creeping into his voice.

“Of course, Papa. But for me, I must return to London and take up my cello again. I am committed to concerts almost straightaway, and I must not let people down.”

“Including one James Meade, pianist of distinction?” said her father, his voice growing stronger by the minute.

Akiko coloured. “Including my accompanist,” she agreed. “So I will catch the train in the morning. I will telephone you every day to make sure you are keeping up the improvement.”

There was a long silence, and then Nakamasa said, “There will be no need for a train. Parsons can take the Bentley, and you will travel in comfort. Please send him to me.”

“But I am perfectly happy to take the train, Papa,” Akiko protested.

He sighed and put his hand once more to his heart. “Do this for me, daughter,” he said. “I shall know you are safe with Ezekiel.”

Akiko shivered, though the room was very warm. “Very well. But please speak to him about his attitude. You are his boss, after all.”

*   *   *

W
HEN SHE HAD LEFT THE ROOM, AND
P
ARSONS WAS SENT FOR,
Nakamasa covered his eyes in despair. He had done his best, would always do his best for his daughter, but felt that he had not this time succeeded.

“You wanted me?” said Ezekiel Parsons, coming in as silently as a rat.

“Sir,” said Nakamasa.

“You wanted me,
sir
.”

“Yes. We shall take Miss Akiko in the Bentley back to London tomorrow morning. We leave early.”

“We? I thought you were nigh unto death? Sir.”

“The car is very comfortable, and you will drive carefully. Please do as I instruct.”

“Yes, sir,” said Ezekiel, turning on his heel and leaving as quietly as he came.