Page 33 of The Impossible Fortune (Thursday Murder Club Mysteries #5)

‘Whoever killed her,’ says Bill Benson, leading Ron down into the cellar in pitch darkness, ‘this is why.’

Walking down the cellar steps, Ron takes a moment to reflect that he is in an isolated house, with no mobile phone coverage, being led into a cellar by a man who, Kent miner or not, he has only just met.

‘In for a penny, in for a pound,’ he says under his breath.

Bill flicks on the light.

Ron is disappointed that there is no great revelation.

The cellar is stacked with everything cellars are supposed to be stacked with.

There are leaning piles of dusty boxes, planks of wood resting against walls, paint tins crusted around the lids, an old sofa squashed into an alcove and a rusted washing machine in the corner.

It is like any cellar anywhere in Britain.

Except, Ron notes, this cellar has extremely expensive video cameras in each corner.

‘Sit,’ says Bill, pointing to the sofa. Ron does so gladly, even the half-mile walk from the bus stop had been enough for him.

On the journey, with holidaymakers and locals sitting around them, they gossiped about the usual things: police brutality in the 1970s, whether Jarrod Bowen was a better goalscorer than Tony Cottee, friends with artificial hips.

Anything but the murder of Holly Lewis in an instant fireball.

Now Bill is ready to talk. He sits down beside Ron.

‘We trust each other?’

‘It’s our best option,’ says Ron. ‘I’ll tell you everything I know; you tell me everything you know.’

‘I worked for Holly Lewis,’ says Bill. ‘Running security in The Compound.’

Ron looks around him. ‘And is this The Compound?’

Bill shakes his head, laughing. ‘No, this is a cellar. But this is how you get to The Compound. Takes about half an hour from here.’

Ron looks at the ground for trapdoors.

‘You won’t find anything,’ says Bill. ‘Tell me what happened to Holly.’

‘You don’t know anything?’ Ron asks.

‘I knew I hadn’t heard from Holly or Nick for a couple of days,’ says Bill. ‘Nick’s the other boss. But that’s not unusual. Unless there’s an appointment they usually leave us in peace.’

‘Us?’ says Ron.

‘Me and Frank,’ says Bill. ‘Frankie East. Also worked at Betteshanger. We do alternate shifts. He’s going to lose it when I tell him I’ve met you.’

‘Any reason they employed two old miners to run security?’

Bill nods. ‘Same reason it’ll take you about half an hour to reach The Compound from here. If you want to rob this place, you’d better not be afraid of the dark or tight spaces. Is Nick Silver okay?’

Ron sighs. ‘Definitely missing. Could be dead – we don’t know. There were some texts from his phone, but someone else sent them.’

‘How do you know that?’ Bill asks.

‘A car called the Babe Magnet,’ says Ron. ‘Don’t ask. Nick went missing very early on Friday, so Holly came to see us. Then she dies.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ says Bill. ‘What a mess. Who’s in charge here, then?’

Ron shrugs. ‘You?’

‘I don’t want to be in charge of anything,’ says Bill.

‘Holly told us there’s a lot of valuable stuff in The Compound,’ says Ron.

He sees Bill’s eyes flick for the briefest moment to the rusty washing machine in the corner of the cellar.

So that’s the way in, is it? Leading to some sort of tunnel?

Clever. Elizabeth will be impressed with his observation skills.

Ron would love to be Columbo, he really would.

‘I can’t say,’ says Bill. ‘All that stuff I can’t tell you.’

‘She also said that she and Nick have got something down there,’ says Ron. ‘And Nick Silver thought someone was after it.’

Bill shakes his head. ‘No one could get anything from down there. Do you know when Holly’s funeral will be?’

Ron will ask Paul. ‘I’ll let you know.’

‘Thanks, Ron,’ says Bill. ‘They’ve got a unit down there, Holly and Nick. But I’ve been here ten years and I’ve never seen them open it.’

‘We know they had two codes to get in,’ says Ron. ‘Nick had six numbers and Holly had six numbers. What if someone got hold of those numbers somehow? What’s stopping them coming down here and opening the box?’

‘Well, they’d have to find the place,’ says Bill. ‘That’s the first thing.’

‘But a client would already know where it is?’

‘True,’ says Bill. ‘But if they get down there and I see them opening the wrong box, I lock the whole place down.’

‘You could just nick it yourself,’ says Ron.

‘I can’t get into the vault without a client,’ says Bill. ‘That’s the only time me or Frank are allowed in. Retinal scans on the client, and one on me. Thumbprints from the client; thumbprints from me.’

‘A client could come down with a gun,’ suggests Ron. ‘And force you to help.’

‘Full body scanners,’ says Bill. ‘I can see the scans from downstairs, and, if I don’t like what I see, I don’t send the cage up.’

‘I bribe you, then,’ says Ron. ‘Or I bribe Frank? I’m a client, I know you. You let me in, turn a blind eye when I open the wrong box, you take me back up, I split the proceeds with you.’

‘Try it,’ says Bill. ‘See where it gets you.’

Ron has always been good at thinking like a criminal. It’s second nature. ‘So I’m an existing client, I’ve got my hands on Holly’s code and Nick’s code, I’ve bribed, let’s say Frank and not you. What’s stopping me coming in tomorrow night and stealing Nick and Holly’s money?’

Bill thinks for a long while. ‘Nothing. Except that’s a lot of ifs.’

‘Okay,’ says Ron. ‘Okay, at least we know. If a client makes an appointment in the next few days, you’d know? Would it usually be on your shift or Frank’s?’

‘Most appointments are on my watch,’ says Bill. ‘But some people are night birds. I’ve got one in a couple of days’ time.’

‘Got a name?’ Ron asks.

‘Lord Townes,’ says Bill Benson. ‘Ain’t seen him in yonks, but a nice enough fella.’

Nice enough fella, thinks Ron. Elizabeth will have something to say about that. It’s too much of a coincidence, surely?

‘And you can’t show me down there?’ Ron asks.

‘We’d need a client with us,’ says Bill. ‘The only way you could get down there is to persuade a client to bring you along, and persuade me to let you accompany them.’

The two men go quiet for a moment.

‘What have they got in their box?’ Bill asks. ‘Holly and Nick?’

‘Something worth stealing,’ says Ron. ‘Is there any way you can change their code? Something like that?’

Bill shakes his head. ‘Only Holly and Nick could change it.’

‘So it’s just sitting there?’ says Ron.

‘I mean, behind about fifty doors, and retinal identifiers and fingerprint scans,’ says Bill. ‘But, apart from that, yeah, it’s just sitting there.’

‘Thanks for trusting me,’ says Ron.

Bill nods. ‘Thanks for trusting me. Jesus, I can’t believe she’s dead. Who did it?’

Isn’t that the question? Ron is thinking.

The two men are alone with their thoughts for a minute.

‘We need to get that box open,’ says Ron. ‘Before someone else does.’

‘Well, best of luck, Ronnie,’ laughs Bill. ‘You need four things. Me, Holly’s half of the code, Nick’s half of the code and a client. And so far all you’ve got is me.’

‘Bill,’ says Ron, putting his hand on the big man’s shoulder, ‘remember the strike in 1974? Everyone against us. The government, the coppers, the courts? Powerful people. Bullies. They threw everything at us, and we never buckled, we never raised the white flag, and we never gave in.’

Bill nods, heartened, then has another thought. ‘I mean, we did lose though.’

‘Course we lost,’ says Ron. ‘We always lost. But we gave it a bloody good go, eh?’