Winner Takes It All (37 page)

He drove all the way over
to Layton House, knowing he was taking a big chance doing this. The
Cusacks only lost Ben the day before and would be in mourning and
he wasn’t exactly their favourite person. He parked the car and
rang the bell, hoping and praying he’d be allowed in. Luckily for
him, one of the other housekeepers opened the door, as Mrs Gentle
would probably have slammed it in his face. The woman was wearing
black and Tom remembered that the family were Catholic and would of
course wear black until after Ben’s funeral.

‘
Could I see
Alex please?’ he asked.

‘
Yes, come
in,’ the housekeeper said. ‘It’s Mr Montague isn’t it?’

‘
Yes.’

‘
Just wait in
the drawing room.’

He was ushered into the
small reception room where he’d had that conversation with Ben
Cusack. Memories of the old man filled the place, with family
photographs on the various cupboards and his paintings of
aeroplanes on the wall. Tom wondered if Sorcha was aware of Ben’s
death. She would be devastated. After all, he was the love of her
life.

Tom perched on the edge
of the sofa, trying hard to control his nerves, wondering if Alex
would even see him.

The door opened and Alex
walked in, wrapped up in a black polo neck jumper and black
trousers, her fluffy hair pulled off her face. It was obvious she’d
been crying, but that look of disgust never left her
face.

‘
What do you
want?’ she snapped.

‘
I’m so sorry
to hear of your loss Alex.’

‘
You could
have said that in a card.’

‘
I know. I’ve
come here to put something to you. I love Tara and I want to be
with her and I know none of you are going to accept me until I do
something to prove myself.’

Alex sat as far away from
him as possible.

‘
Nothing you
do will make up for your treachery Tom. Especially to
Tara.’

‘
I spoke to
Maurice Bannerman yesterday. He confessed to me that he’s been
embezzling money from Sheridans for years.’

Alex looked at
him.

‘
How?’

‘
He didn’t go
into details but he reckons it could land him in
prison.’

‘
Are you
telling me the truth?’

‘
I swear on my
mother’s life. He reckons he’s washing his hands of it all and
leaving the country for good before you find out and send him to
prison.’

‘
Wait
there.’

She got up and left the
room, and Tom wondered who she was going to fetch. Maybe she was
going to go and call the police - after all, he had plotted to
commit arson on her property.

After what seemed like an
eternity, the door opened and Alex returned, accompanied by her
father, who also wore a black suit. He looked to have regained his
health. His face had lost the droop and the only indication of his
weakness was his reliance upon the stick he used. Alex helped him
into a high backed chair and sat on the edge of it, looking at
Tom.

‘
Is it true?’
Christian asked. ‘Did Maurice really tell you he’d been embezzling
me for years?’

‘
Yes.’

Christian looked at
Alex.

‘
All those
people over the years I’ve fired because I suspected them of
stabbing me in the back. I never once thought it could be Maurice.’
He looked at Tom.

‘
Tom do you
think you could go undercover for us?’

‘
I’ll do
anything.’

‘
I want to
find out exactly what Mr Bannerman has done to Sheridans. Do you
think you could meet him before he flees the country? Does he know
you’re friendly with us?’

‘
No.’

‘
Good. Now I
hear you’re an imaginative young man. Why don’t you make up some
sort of fictional crime you want his help with? Knowing you’re a
law breaker is likely to get him to confess.’

‘
We could
always bug Tom,’ Alex suggested. ‘Jack will know how to do
that.’

‘
Exactly. You
up to it Tom?’

‘
Yes,’ he
replied excitedly. Bannerman was a dangerous man, but this was his
chance to get the family’s approval, and maybe he might stand a
chance with Tara. ‘As I said, I’ll do anything.’

‘
Well get that
imagination going then we’ll see what happens.’

Tom drove at speed back
to Andrew’s house, his mind racing. He had to come up with
something pretty convincing to get Maurice Bannerman to believe him
and he wasn’t sure he could pull it off. He told Tara everything
that had happened and she was most excited her uncle Christian was
willing to give him a second chance. They took lunch in the garden
while Andrew napped in the living room – he was still very shaken
by Ben’s death and Tom could tell his seemingly frail health
worried Tara. He tried to take her mind off it by asking for her
help in cooking up a plan to frame Bannerman.

Tara went back to Layton
House and her family and Tom remained with Andrew and Mrs Ball,
playing backgammon in the garden. Gradually the old man started to
nod off and Mrs Ball took him inside, announcing she was going to
start dinner. Tom remained in the garden and phoned Bannerman,
hoping he wasn’t in the Bahamas or somewhere.

‘
I thought I
told you not to bother me again,’ he snapped.

‘
I’m sorry
Maurice but you’re my last resort. I need your help.’

‘
I can’t do
anything for you Tom.’

‘
Look you do
sort of owe me. I could go to the police and tell them how you
instructed me to start the fire at Alex’s hotel.’

‘
And how would
you prove it?’

‘
You met up
with Reg Chisholm and paid him his money didn’t you?’

The line went silent for
a moment.

‘
What do you
want?’

‘
You didn’t
give me a chance to explain anything the other day. When you said
you’d been stealing off the Sheridans I wanted to tell you that I
have as well. I think they might be onto me and I need your help.
Can I meet you?’

‘
Okay, you can
have half an hour at that place in Waterloo tomorrow lunchtime. One
o’clock, sharp.’

‘
Great. I’ll
see you then.’

As soon as Tom hung up
from Bannerman, he called Alex.

‘
It’s all go,’
he said. ‘I’m meeting him at Waterloo Station.’

‘
Fantastic.
Come over to us beforehand and Jack will kit you out. Thanks
Tom.’

***

The small boy that lives
within most men could not help but get excited as Tom made his way
across the busy concourse of Waterloo Station. That morning the
very macho ex-soldier Jack had kitted him out with the most
discreet microphone Tom had ever seen. It was not much thicker than
a strand of hair and fitted over his left ear; a thin wire then
trailed down his back into a recording device the size of an iPod
Nano that fitted into his back pocket. Probably for the first and
last time, Tom felt like James Bond and it was great. Pretending he
was in an action film helped him handle his fear of cocking things
up. Or even worse, Bannerman guessing what he was up to. Jack
advised him not to scratch his left ear, even if it was itching
like it was about to explode, if he did, it would cause the sound
to be distorted! He also warned him against doing the obvious
things like talking loudly. This microphone was so sensitive it
could pick up a whisper.

Bannerman was sitting at
a table reading
The Times
, that sulky expression on his
face. Getting a little carried away in his James Bond fantasies,
Tom fretted that his former ally had some sort of tiny device
beneath the table that could shoot poison into him if he realised
he was being duped. He then came back to reality. Bannerman was a
crook and a fraudster but he wasn’t Le Chiffre!

Tom got himself a cup of
coffee and sat before Bannerman, who deliberately carried on
reading his paper and ignoring Tom – just to assert his
dominance.

‘
What do you
want to see me about?’ he asked.

‘
I need money.
I can’t borrow any more from Jackson. You’re my only
hope.’

‘
What do you
need money for?’

‘
Part of my
duties was going around collecting the takings from the various
properties belonging to Sheridans in Summerset and Abbott’s Leigh.
On quite a few occasions, I collected up to ten thousand pounds and
well.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I skimmed some of it.’

‘
You skimmed
money!’ Bannerman asked, his voice incredulous. ‘How
much?’

‘
About three
grand. I’m scared that now they’re onto me they’re going to suspect
me and want it back. I know the security code to the safe at
Claremont Hall. I can probably put it back without Tara noticing.
She used to expect me to do the banking anyway and I doubt she’s
done any with Ben dying and everything.’

Bannerman laughed,
shaking his head.

‘
Oh Tom Tom
Tom,’ he chuckled. ‘Oh you amuse me so much. Three thousand pounds.
Oh bless you.’

‘
I’m glad you
find it funny, it’s a lot of money to me.’

Bannerman looked around
to ensure no one was looking.

‘
Tom I have
swindled millions out of Sheridans and you expect me to fret about
three thousand?.’

‘
Millions?!’
Tom was good at sounding dumb - he’d had a lifetime of
practice.

‘
The first
time was in 1988. Christian put me in charge of the development of
a nightclub in the South of France. I got a quote from a builder
for just over a million pounds and because that damned fool
believed me, he let me pay this supposed builder. The real builder
I used charged five hundred thousand pounds and I kept the rest. I
got away with it once and I got more ambitious. I set up a company,
Quantum Holdings to do my bidding and I always recommend to
Christian they work for him. I then find the cheapest labourers and
staff on the market and keep the rest of the money for
myself.

‘
So this
Quantum Holdings, do you still run it?’

‘
There was
nothing to run Tom, it was just a front. I became a very wealthy
man off the back of the Cusacks and it feels great. It would have
been the icing on the cake to see them get their comeuppance but it
wasn’t to be. But I can’t stick around and risk detection so I’m
off to Panama.’

‘
Panama?’

‘
Um. The
tourist industry’s booming there apparently. So I’m considering
opening a hotel. Let’s hope that little wretch Alex Cusack doesn’t
open one next door!’

‘
When are you
leaving?’

‘
I’m taking
the Friday morning flight from Heathrow and it’s not a moment too
soon.’

From his pocket he took
out a chequebook and wrote one out. He ripped it from its docket
and passed it to Tom.

‘
Pay them back
their money. I don’t want it back, look upon it as payment for the
work you’ve done. Not that we achieved much.’

‘
I wish I
could hear from Jackson,’ Tom fretted. ‘I’d like to know what he’s
doing?’

‘
Jackson? Oh
you haven’t heard have you? He was arrested the other
day.’

‘
Arrested,
what for?’

Maurice laughed and shook
his head.

‘
It’s
hilarious Tom. He was caught in a car with a prostitute. A
transvestite prostitute.’

Tom gave a genuine,
spluttering laugh. Delighted at the thought of Jackson getting some
sort of comeuppance.

‘
Apparently
Sorcha’s spitting feathers. All of New York society knows and she’s
furious.’

‘
No wonder he
hasn’t been in touch with me; he’s had other more pressing
matters.’

‘
Exactly.’

Bannerman folded his
newspaper and stood up, offering his hand.

‘
Goodbye Tom
and thank you for your efforts.’

‘
Thanks for
the money,’ Tom replied, shaking his hand. ‘I’ll be glad when all
this is over.’

‘
I bet you
will old chap. I bet you can’t wait to go back to being a
bum?’

‘
You can say
that again.’

Bannerman left the café
and disappeared into the crowd. Tom finished his coffee, and gave
the older man a chance to leave before he caught the train back to
Summerset.

As London disappeared
into Surrey, then Sussex; Tom sat with his head against the window,
ruminating upon his future. Where did he go from here? He was back
to square one. He had no job and no income. Would the Cusacks ever
trust him enough to allow him to carry on working as estate
manager? Or would he be cast back into exile in Fulham? He hated
the thought of returning to his old life. This job in Summerset had
been the first he’d ever enjoyed doing and he could quite easily
carry on doing it forever.

Arriving back at Andrew’s
house, he took the car and drove over to Layton House, all the
while fretting that the microphone hadn’t worked or the information
he’d gathered from Bannerman wouldn’t be enough to satisfy
Christian.