Shifting Sands (21 page)

‘Yes, of course. I'll get him for you.'

A minute. Then: ‘Hi, sis. Head OK?'

‘Yes, thanks. Look, Jon, can you talk for a minute?'

‘That sounds serious.'

‘It is, quite.'

‘Hang on, I'll take this to the study.' There was a pause, then: ‘OK, shoot. What's up?'

Not having planned how to break the news, Sophie came straight out with it. ‘Ma's got a boyfriend.'

There was a stunned silence. Then: ‘Say again?'

‘Ma's got a boyfriend. I've just found out. She met him on holiday.'

‘But – but that
can't
be right! I mean, she and Dad – God, it's not a year yet!'

‘I know. She's consumed with guilt.'

‘But who the hell is he?'

‘Lewis Master or Masters or something.'

A faint bell chimed in Jonathan's memory, but Sophie was hurrying on.

‘I . . . called in on Thursday on my way home, to see if she'd any Ibuprofen. And – he was there. They were both shattered to see me, I can tell you.'

‘I bet! What's he like?'

‘What does it matter what he's
like
?' Sophie snapped. ‘He exists; isn't that enough?'

‘But did you like him?'

‘I didn't have the chance to find out. He beat a hasty retreat, but I'm pretty sure he'd been intending to spend the night.'

‘Ye gods! What does Angus think?'

‘I . . . haven't told him yet.'

‘Well, there's not a lot we can do about it, is there? To put it mildly, they're both adults. What does he do, do you know?'

‘Retired, I should think. He's a bit older than Ma, by the look of him.'

‘God, Sophie, I don't know what to think. It never entered my head she'd even
want
anyone else, especially so soon. I mean, she and Dad were so – so
right
together.'

‘The trouble is, they're not together any more.' She paused. ‘If it had been after a decent interval, I'd have been glad for her. But I'm finding it hard at the moment.'

‘You and me both!' Jonathan said feelingly.

‘Actually, she's coming for the weekend, to see Tamsin. She'll be here in a couple of hours.'

‘Will you refer to it?'

‘I probably won't get the chance. Tamsin's brought a friend home, and there's not likely to be much privacy. Quite honestly I'm grateful for that, because I don't know what to say. I'd like to give her my blessing, but . . . I can't.'

‘You think it's serious, then?'

‘God knows. She was evasive when I asked her. The trouble is . . . I
love
her, Jon! I
want
her to be happy, but just – not like this!'

‘Does she know you're telling me about it?'

‘She left it up to me, so it won't come as a surprise. Look, I must go. I haven't made a start on lunch yet.'

‘Can I tell Vicky?'

‘If you want, but obviously no one else. I'll let you know if I find out any more.'

‘OK. Well – good luck!'

Sophie disconnected and went slowly back to the kitchen.

Maddy was enjoying herself. She was lying prone on a treatment bed, her face in a hole to assist her breathing, while firm hands kneaded all the tension out of her. The masseuse, who'd introduced herself as Sally, was young, bright, and, Maddy was glad to find, chatty.

Choosing her moment, Maddy remarked casually, ‘Is there some kind of survey going on? I saw two official-looking men in suits on my way here. With everyone else in robes, they stood out like a sore thumb!'

The busy hands paused fractionally.

‘I thought for a moment they were going to question me!' Maddy prompted.

‘Actually . . .' Sally paused for so long, Maddy despaired of her continuing. Then she said carefully, ‘They were probably policemen.'

Bull's-eye! ‘My goodness!' Maddy kept her voice light. ‘What are they doing here?'

‘We're not supposed to talk about it,' Sally admitted belatedly.

‘But . . .?'

‘But . . . something awful happened, up in Manchester. You probably read about it.'

‘Oh, of course – the girl in the hotel. Heavens, you don't mean she came from here?'

‘Yes; she was the PA of one of the owners – a French girl.'

‘What was she doing in Manchester, then?'

‘They'd gone up on business, Mr Masters, Mr Cameron, the MD, and their three PAs.'

No wonder the police were sniffing around, Maddy thought. ‘Did you know her?'

‘Only by sight. Being in admin, she didn't have anything to do with the spa.'

‘And they still don't know who killed her, or why?'

‘It seems not. We were all interviewed earlier in the week – it was quite scary – but in the last day or two, the police have come back with more questions, and we don't know why. It's . . . unsettling.'

‘I'm sure it is.' As instructed, Maddy rolled over on to her back, and the towel was strategically rearranged. ‘Normally, though,' she added artlessly, ‘it must be very interesting working here. You have a lot of celebrities, don't you?'

Sally brightened, relieved at the change of topic. ‘Yes, you never know who you're going to find on your couch!'

‘Didn't Maria Lang come here? I used to love her films.'

‘That's right – a lovely lady. She was one of our regulars, we were so upset when she died. Her career hadn't been going too well – she was quite frank about it – and she was determined to build it up again, so she was delighted that the treatments were making such a difference. She looked years younger and was really hopeful of landing a part in the new James Bond film.' Sally sighed. ‘But you never know what's round the corner, do you?'

‘Indeed you don't,' Maddy agreed.

Lewis stared unbelievingly at the computer screen, his face white with anger.

One of the policemen leant forward to switch it off, and the screen went blank.

‘Any comments, Mr Masters?'

‘Only that this is an appalling breach of confidentiality. I can't begin to imagine how you got hold of it.'

‘It was sent to Greater Manchester police, sir. Anonymously.'

Lewis frowned. ‘
Manchester
? Why on earth—' He broke off, suddenly seeing this interview in a totally different light. ‘You're surely not suggesting this has any bearing on Miss du Pré's death?'

‘Quite a coincidence, though, wouldn't you say? Two instances of your Group being brought to our attention in as many weeks? Would the young lady have had access to these records?'

‘No, she would not. They're password-protected.' Lewis drew a deep breath. ‘But that apart, exactly what is supposed to be deduced from all this?' He waved a dismissive hand at the blank screen. ‘That a few women who visited this resort have unfortunately died? Hardly an earth-shattering revelation, I'd have thought.'

‘On the contrary, sir. Whoever compiled it seems to have believed there was a connection. They came to you – you gave them some kind of treatment – they died.'

Lewis said icily, ‘Unfortunately, people die all the time, Inspector. I might point out that nearly a hundred clients have undergone this particular treatment. The fact that a handful later passed away is unfortunate, but totally unrelated.'

The policeman toyed with his pen. ‘This treatment you speak of – it has been fully tested, I take it?'

‘Of
course
it has! We have our reputation to consider, and so do our manufacturers. No product is used until strenuous tests have been undertaken over many months.'

‘On humans as well as animals?'

‘Most definitely. If the treatment had been at fault, many others would have been affected.'

The detective considered, pursing his lips. ‘We'll be needing samples, sir, to run more tests under laboratory conditions. From the other two resorts, as well.'

‘You're more than welcome.'

‘And we'll have to ask you to withhold the treatment until the tests have been completed.'

Lewis strove to control his temper. ‘Then for my part,
I
shall ask for a full and public exoneration, once you have conducted them. I've no intention of allowing a permanent slur to remain on the Group.' He paused. ‘But to come back to Miss du Pré, there's surely no way you can link this infringement with her death?'

‘That's still open to debate, sir, but various angles are being investigated.'

With which, Lewis had to be content.

Maddy stood hesitantly in the corridor leading from the spa to the lobby. It was the lull between the routines of the day and dinner, and few people were about. During the last twenty-four hours she'd worked out the layout of the rooms on the ground floor and had on several occasions seen a member of staff go through a door off this corridor. Furthermore, from some strategic positioning, she'd been able to catch a glimpse of a desk inside.

Where there was a desk, she reasoned, there were likely to be filing cabinets. The question was, could she slip into the room unnoticed? No light showed under the door – a good sign – and to avoid showing one herself, she'd stuffed a torch into the pocket of her robe.

Heart in mouth, she approached the door and had reached for the knob when a voice behind her said, ‘Can I help you?'

Maddy jumped and spun round, to see one of the girls in powder-blue smiling pleasantly at her.

‘Oh, sorry,' she stammered. ‘I . . . seem to have lost my way. I was . . . looking for the loo.'

‘First on your right down the passage,' the girl said, and Maddy had no choice but to turn in the indicated direction, her heart hammering against her ribs. Thank
God
she hadn't come a minute later, to find her inside with her torch on, perhaps at a filing cabinet.
Be careful!
Steve had warned.

Having waited in the washroom an appropriate time, Maddy made her way back to her room, still unnerved by her experience and regretfully accepting that she'd lost her appetite for any further sleuthing. She'd let Steve and Jonathan down, she thought, furious with herself; this expensive weekend had been all for nothing.

As soon as the police had left, Lewis phoned Cameron.

‘Yes, Father, I know,' his son cut in before he could speak. ‘They've been here, too. Much good may it do them.'

‘You heard they're suspending the treatment?'

‘I suppose they've no choice, in the circumstances.'

‘God, Cameron, this is what you phoned me about in South Africa. I thought you'd scotched it, once and for all.'

‘And I did, where Elise was concerned; it seems she wasn't the only one with doubts. What's worrying is that if this gets into the public domain, the relatives of the dead women will get wind of it and might even, God forbid, try suing us.'

‘Let's not anticipate trouble. At the moment, our top priority is to find out who's responsible for this malicious nonsense.'

‘Oh, I agree, but it won't be easy. Of the handful who had the password, there's not one I wouldn't trust completely.'

‘No one's been sacked lately? There's no one with a possible grievance?'

‘No, the police asked that. It's a total mystery, but I can't for the life of me see why they're linking this with Elise. She'd nothing remotely to do with the treatment.'

‘Could be the sender's taking advantage of our being in the news to cause further trouble. That would explain why the disc or whatever was sent to Manchester.'

‘Possible, I suppose. Incidentally, the police let slip that her parents are over and want to take her back to France with them, poor devils.'

‘Will they release the body?'

‘Search me. Depends if they've carried out all the examinations they need.'

‘The girl was stabbed! What else do they need?' Lewis ran a hand over his face. ‘I'm getting too old for this, Cameron.'

‘Well, at least we know there's no substance to all this nonsense. There's absolutely nothing wrong with the treatment, and sooner or later the police will have to admit it. As to Elise's death . . .'

‘It was a robbery gone wrong,' Lewis said positively. ‘There's no other explanation. When he found he'd killed her, he panicked and fled. I just wish to hell they'd hurry up and arrest someone, and life can get back to normal.'

ELEVEN

‘
H
ow did it go?' Anxiety was strident in Steve's voice.

‘From your point of view,' Maddy confessed, ‘it was a dead loss. I certainly didn't earn my keep.'

‘You didn't find out anything?'

‘Not much, I'm afraid. I did ask my masseuse—'

‘Oh, you had one of those, did you? Perhaps I should go there myself!'

‘—but she only knew the girl by sight. Apparently, six of them had gone to Manchester on business – the two owners, the MD and their PAs. What's more interesting, though, is that the police were there.'

‘At Foxfield?' His tone sharpened. ‘Did they speak to you?'

‘No, but the point is they'd already interviewed everyone, so why did they go back?'

‘Probably because we sent the memory stick to Manchester. That would have set the cat among the pigeons.'

‘You might have told me!' Maddy said indignantly.

‘No matter. The main thing is that no one suspected you of snooping.'