The Seven Stars (16 page)

The first call was to his superior officer
, with whom he spoke at some length. The second was briefer and more succinct.

‘
I need two addresses urgently: that of Roderick Budd, which will be somewhere local, and Dominic Hardy, in the St Katharine’s Dock area of London.’ After a minute or two the voice came back to him, and he made a note on his pad. Then he dialled a third time, and a voice said in his ear, ‘Webb.’

‘
Dave, there have been developments and I need to be in several places at once. Trouble is, we’re short of manpower, what with a flu epidemic and a major road accident this afternoon. Any chance of your helping out? If you need an incentive, it’s a lead on the Stately Homes caper.’

Webb
’s voice quickened with interest. ‘I’m sure I can clear it. What’s happened?’

Speaking rapidly
, Ledbetter outlined his suspicions about Dominic Hardy and his girlfriend. ‘We’ll have to move fast, before they can warn each other we’re on their track. Trouble is, Hardy’s back in London now and will have to be collected. His girlfriend’s still in SB, though, so if you could pick her up —’

‘
Look, Chris, why don’t I go to London? It makes more sense for you to stay on the spot if you’ve several irons in the fire.’

‘
Are you sure you don’t mind? Thanks, Dave — I owe you one. As soon as you’ve got him, give me a bell on my mobile. I’ll have SOCO standing by to hot-foot it to the Seven Stars and, with luck, lift his tyre prints.’

‘
The guesthouse, you mean? You reckon they’d tip him off ?’

‘
I don’t know what I reckon about that lot at the moment. There’s all sorts of baloney about horoscopes and God knows what, but the first priority is to get Hardy and Budd here for questioning.’

‘
Right. So what are we bringing them in for?’

‘
Suspicion of burglary will do for now. Good luck, Dave, and thanks again.’

Ledbetter put down the phone
, stood up and stretched. Things were moving at last.

12

Helen drove back to the Seven Stars with her mind churning. She realised now that she hadn’t expected the police to take her seriously — had, in fact, been hoping that they wouldn’t. She’d imagined herself recounting the whole business to Andrew, and both of them laughing over her preposterous suspicions.

But the production of the button had changed everything. From polite interest
, speculation and reassurance, the inspector had snapped to attention, and, having elicited all the information she had to offer, been quick to dispatch her. Obviously there were more important things to do than talk to her any longer.

He
’d been very interested in Dominic’s car, she remembered — even as to where it was parked. Would he send someone out to the Seven Stars? If so, would anyone there guess she’d been the one to lay information? And suppose Michael were involved?

She had a surreal picture in her mind of them all being led out in handcuffs to waiting police cars — the Cains
, the Warrens, Terry and Michael, and she, the only one left in the house, watching from a window.

The detective hadn
’t been convinced by the horoscopes, though, and the more she thought about it, the more outrageous her hypothesis seemed. As she’d said herself, why weren’t the messages — if messages they were — relayed by phone?

Nevertheless
, when she let herself into the house to find the hall deserted she went quickly to the paper on the table, her hands trembling as she searched for the column and ‘Tomorrow’s Birthday’.

And there it was.
If
you
contact
a
friend
,
you
might
learn
something
to
your
advantage
.

Would the inspector
, busy ‘continuing his inquiries’, as he put it, think to look at the column when he arrived home tonight? And be struck by the similarity of the phrasing?

Refolding the paper and dropping it back on the table
, she wondered if there were any way she could check with Valentine Perry that the last sentence had been an addition. And if so, when it had been inserted.

She went to her room and forced herself to sit down in the red chair and read her book till it was time to wash and change for dinner.

She must be completely natural, she told herself as she went downstairs, giving no inkling that she half-suspected them of nefarious doings. And, looking round the table at the now-familiar faces, it was in any case impossible to believe.

Then
, just as she was allowing herself to relax, Terry leant back in his chair and glanced sideways at her. ‘And what, might I ask, were you doing down at the nick today, Helen?’

She jumped
, swivelling to face him, and he gave a short laugh. ‘Look at that — guilt written all over her! What’s your dark secret, then? Been arrested for shoplifting?’

She was aware of stillness round the table
, of six pairs of eyes fastened on her face, above all of the inspector’s warning:
It’s
better
that
no
one
should
suspect
you’ve
been
here
.

Then Michael said
, ‘Was it about your necklace?’

She flung him a look of profound gratitude.
‘Yes — yes, I —

Michael continued smoothly
, ‘While we were in SB yesterday, Helen suddenly missed her necklace. She’d had it on at lunch, so it must have come unfastened sometime during the afternoon.’

‘
You didn’t mention it last night,’ Kate remarked.

Recovering herself
, Helen said, ‘There was no point. Every-one was taken up with the news of Caro’s father, and compared with that, it was unimportant.’

‘
Had it been handed in?’ Nicholas asked.

She shook her head.
‘No, they didn’t hold out much hope.’

‘
What was it like?’ Kate persisted.

‘
A string of amber beads.’ The necklace that had broken, not on Sunday in Steeple Bayliss but on Saturday at Beckworth, leading to her discovery of the button.

‘
I hope it turns up,’ Stella said after a pause, and general conversation resumed. It was some moments before Helen, still filled with relief at her deliverance, realised that by seizing on Michael’s explanation, she had tacitly admitted to him that she’d something to hide. He must be wondering what her real reason was for visiting the police.

*

Helen had underestimated Ledbetter’s interest in the horoscopes. Before setting out to bring in Caroline Budd, he called in two young DCs.

‘
Right, lads, I’ve a couple of jobs for you. You, Steve, can get down to the library at the
Broadshire
News
and check through the last two years of the horoscope column.’

Steve Pembury
’s eyes widened, but Ledbetter continued: ‘They might be on microfilm, they might not, but the job’s not as daunting as it sounds. I’m only interested in the entries for “Tomorrow’s Birthday”, which is given separately. I want you to note the date every time a phrase like “Someone is waiting to hear from you” is used — the words might vary slightly.’

‘
Didn’t know you were interested in the stars, Guy,’ Pembury said, straight-faced.

‘
Watch it. And you, Phil, can get me a list of the dates of all the Stately Home robberies since the first one two years ago. After you’ve done that, you can join Steve at the
News
and lend a hand. ASAP, both of you.’

*

Accompanied by WDC Nicky Birch, Ledbetter arrived at the address he’d been given to find a house of mourning. Roderick Budd had died during the night.

A woman friend
, imagining they’d come to offer condolences, didn’t catch Ledbetter’s identification and showed them into a sitting-room. After a few minutes, during which they stood uneasily in the centre of the room, a young woman came in, her eyes red with crying.

‘
I’m afraid my mother can’t see anyone at the moment,’ she said. ‘It’s very kind of you to come; who shall I say called?’

‘
Miss Caroline Budd?’

She blinked.
‘I beg your pardon?’

‘
Are you Caroline Budd?’

‘
No, I’m Naomi. Caro’s my sister.’

‘
We’d like to see her, please.’

The girl hesitated.
‘Could I ask what it’s about? She’s very upset at the moment.’

‘
It’s a police matter, Miss Budd. I’m Detective Inspector Ledbetter and this is Constable Birch.’

‘
Police?’ She looked thoroughly bewildered. ‘Has she been speeding again? Surely it can wait, in the circumstances. She’s not going anywhere.’

Oh yes
, she is, Ledbetter thought. Aloud, he said, ‘It’s rather more serious than that, and we really do need to see her.’

‘
All right, I’ll see if I can find her.’

Another wait
, then the door opened and a different girl stood there, smaller and fairer than her sister, with enormous eyes in a pale, pointed face. She didn’t speak, simply stood staring at them as though they were some sort of mirage.

Ledbetter cleared his throat.
‘Caroline Budd?’

She gave an almost imperceptible nod.

‘I’m sorry about your father, Miss Budd, but I must ask you to accompany us to the police station for questioning in connection with the country house burglaries.’

She swayed and Nicky Birch started forward
, but the girl had already steadied herself against the door frame.

She moistened her lips and said in a whisper
, ‘My mother —’

‘
I’m sure your sister will take care of her,’ Ledbetter said firmly. He expected some kind of protest but she said nothing and, doubting if she would take in any formal wording at this stage, he left it unsaid. She could be cautioned before the questioning; in the meantime it was better she should go with them voluntarily.

Twenty minutes later
, she was seated opposite him in the chair Helen Campbell had occupied that afternoon. Nicky Birch was at his side.

The time and those present were stated for the tape
, then Ledbetter turned to the girl. ‘Caroline Budd, I’m cautioning you that you don’t have to say anything unless you wish to do so, but anything you do say may be taken down and given in evidence. Do you understand?’

She nodded.

‘Would you speak aloud for the tape, please?’

‘
I understand.’

‘
I believe you can assist us with our inquiries into the country house burglaries. Would you like to make a statement?’

A pause. Then
, ‘No.’

‘
Miss Budd, I think you should know that some officers have gone to London to accompany your friend Dominic Hardy back here.’

She fastened her wide eyes on him and said nothing
, though he saw her tremble. He was beginning to find that unwavering stare unnerving. Damn it, it was she who was supposed to be ill at ease.

‘
You live with Mr Hardy?’

A nod.

‘For the tape, please?’

‘
Yes.’

‘
Yet he left your parents’ home this morning, when your father had just died?’

She spoke her first full sentence in their presence.
‘He had an appointment in London.’

Which presumably took precedence over his girlfriend
’s grief. A never-present help in trouble, Ledbetter thought caustically.

‘
How long have you known him?’

She said listlessly
, ‘About four years.’

Abruptly he changed tack.
‘Are you interested in antiques, Miss Budd?’

Again the widening of the eyes. It was a wonder to Led-better that they could open any further: maximum
expansion seemed to have been reached several minutes ago.

‘
Well?’

She said
, ‘I don’t know much about them.’

‘
Just what you like, eh?’

She did not answer. He sighed. It was some time since an interview had been such heavy going. He could not tell whether she was in shock over her father
’s death or playing cat and mouse with him. He suspected a mixture of the two.

‘
Miss Budd, I appreciate that these are difficult circumstances for you, but —’

And then she started to cry. First the gigantic eyes filled slowly with tears
, which brimmed over and began to run down her cheeks. Then her lip trembled like a child’s. Finally, she laid her arms down on the desk, pillowed her head in them and gave herself up to a storm of sobbing.

Ledbetter said in an aside
, ‘We won’t get anything out of her in this condition.’ Then, raising his voice, ‘All right, Miss Budd, that’s all for now. We’ll get the doctor to take a look at you.’ And into the tape, ‘Interview suspended at eighteen-thirty.’

And a hell of a lot of use it had been
, he thought in frustration. All they had against her was her association with Hardy and the reasonable suspicion she’d have benefited from the crimes. If Hardy had stayed on at the house, things would have been much easier; as it was, this enforced hanging around slowed everything almost to a standstill.

He looked at his watch. Dave wouldn
’t even have got to London yet; at best it would be an hour and a half before he could expect his phone-call. In the meantime, they must hope it wouldn’t rain before they could get a look at those tyre prints.

*

The journey to London took over two and a half hours, and it was after eight when Webb and Jackson drew up outside the luxury apartments where Dominic Hardy lived. The entrance door was locked and Jackson rang the foyer bell. After a moment, a voice spoke over the intercom.

‘
Hall porter here.’

‘
This is the police. May we come in?’

‘
I’ll need to see your identification, sir.’

‘
Of course.’

Through the plate glass they watched a uniformed
man approach over acres of marble floor and peer at the warrant cards they held up. He opened the door and looked at them dubiously.

‘
What’s the problem? One of the residents met with an accident?’

‘
No, no. We’d like to see Mr Dominic Hardy. Is he in the building?’