Page 54 of The Impossible Fortune (Thursday Murder Club Mysteries #5)

The call came through about an hour ago. Elizabeth ate her breakfast – she eats breakfast again now – and called Bogdan. Wondered if he wouldn’t mind popping over if he wasn’t too busy helping Ron?

In the recent past, if Elizabeth had agreed to a meeting with someone she was worried might kill her, she wouldn’t have that meeting in her own flat.

Out of respect for Stephen – it was his home too – and also to make sure that he didn’t get shot.

It was one of the compromises of marriage, ‘for richer or poorer’ and all of that.

But now she is free to meet potential killers wherever she chooses, and, when Jamie Usher rang her, she invited him straight over. Just the man she wanted to talk to, and it will save Joyce and her a trip.

She has asked Bogdan to come over, because she hadn’t liked Jamie Usher’s manner when they’d met in Manchester.

There are so many suspects that Elizabeth just doesn’t buy in this case. Davey Noakes, Lord Townes, Joanna’s husband – she can’t see any of them as the culprit. Perhaps she’s wrong?

The others are waiting to hear from her, and Elizabeth is aware they need something to go their way.

As her doorbell rings, Elizabeth knows that everyone is hoping that Jamie Usher might be that something.

If they can find out why Holly Lewis rang him that night, everything, the murder and the money, might unlock.

‘You want me to be threatening or nice?’ Bogdan asks.

‘If I’m being nice, you be threatening,’ says Elizabeth. ‘But if I start being threatening, you be nice. Be the exact opposite of me.’

‘And if he tries to kill you?’

‘Unleash hell,’ says Elizabeth. She walks to her front door, opens it and sees Jamie Usher looking at door numbers. ‘You found us, Mr Usher, do come in.’

Jamie looks nervous as he steps over the threshold. Signs of nervousness are always a red herring in negotiations, because guilty people are always nervous, but innocent people are always nervous too. It gets you nowhere.

‘Do take a seat,’ says Elizabeth pleasantly. ‘This is my friend Bogdan.’

Bogdan scowls at Jamie. If you tell Bogdan to play ‘good cop, bad cop’, he will do it without question. On one level his look is chillingly threatening, but he looks so absurdly handsome when he does it that the impact gets a little lost.

‘Thank you for seeing me,’ says Jamie. ‘I just … you’re not a family history researcher, are you?’

‘No,’ says Elizabeth.

‘Okay,’ says Jamie. ‘Okay. The police were at my house.’

‘That’s annoying,’ says Elizabeth.

‘I don’t like the police,’ says Jamie.

Bogdan leans forward and stabs a finger at Jamie. ‘My girlfriend is a policeman, you scumbag.’

Elizabeth mouths ‘Bit much’ to him, and he leans back and mumbles, ‘Police officer .’

‘What do you suppose they were doing there?’ Elizabeth asks. ‘Could you hazard a guess?’

‘I could hazard a few guesses,’ says Jamie.

‘I bet you could,’ says Bogdan, coldly. That’s a bit more like it. The quieter Bogdan is, the scarier he is.

‘But it’s funny they should turn up a couple of days after you did,’ says Jamie. ‘Is that a coincidence?’

‘No,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Not a coincidence at all. I confess we came to see your wife, but you proved to be much more interesting. To me, and to the police as well.’

‘What do you know about me?’ Jamie asks. ‘What is this?’

What is this? Well, that’s very much the question of the day. Jamie is going to give them nothing until Elizabeth gives him something first. Sometimes it’s best to jump straight in.

‘Holly Lewis,’ says Elizabeth.

Jamie stares at her blankly. Elizabeth sees that Bogdan has balled his hands into fists. She has seen Bogdan punch people before and, though it’s not something she would admit in polite company, she enjoyed the sight tremendously.

‘Nothing?’ Elizabeth asks.

‘Holly Lewis?’ repeats Jamie. ‘Nope, nothing. What is she saying I’ve done?’

‘She’s saying nothing,’ says Elizabeth. ‘She’s dead.’

‘The dead don’t speak,’ growls Bogdan. He’ll have heard that somewhere. A film.

Jamie looks directly at Elizabeth. ‘Why did you come to see me? Or my wife? Have I upset you in some way?’

‘If you planted a bomb under Holly Lewis’s car, you’ve upset me,’ says Elizabeth.

‘A bomb?’ says Jamie. If he’s lying, he’s good. But a lot of criminals are good liars, and the ones that aren’t don’t last long. ‘That’s why the police were at my house?’

‘Does that surprise you, Mr Usher?’ says Elizabeth. ‘You’re doing a very accurate impression of someone who is surprised. Why did you think they were there?’

‘Of course I’m surprised,’ says Jamie. ‘I took out two mortgages. On flats in the city centre. False names, my usual trick, but I thought I’d covered myself.’

‘That’s why you thought the police were at your house?’

‘Yeah, it’s illegal,’ says Jamie. ‘This is the first I’ve heard of this woman and a bomb.’

Bogdan leaps out of his chair and grabs Jamie. ‘Stop lying to us.’

Jamie shrinks back as far as he can, and pleads, ‘I’m not lying. I con banks; I don’t kill people.’

Elizabeth drags Bogdan off Jamie but perfectly matches his level of threat.

‘Then why,’ she whispers, like an executioner preparing a noose, ‘did she ring you on the night she died?’

‘She didn’t,’ cries Jamie. ‘I’ve never heard of her. She didn’t ring me!’

‘Stop lying to me,’ shouts Elizabeth, and Jamie curls up further into a ball as Elizabeth looms over him.

The room sits in silence for a moment, Elizabeth’s anger hovering in the air.

‘Would you like a cup of tea, Jamie?’ asks Bogdan.

Jamie shakes his head and tries to avoid Elizabeth’s eye.

‘Let me know if you change your mind,’ says Bogdan. ‘It’s no bother.’

Jamie composes himself. ‘Understand this, I’m no one. I make my money with easy cons, nothing else. I’m not a criminal.’

‘You are a criminal,’ says Elizabeth.

‘Well, yes, I am,’ says Jamie. ‘But not what you’re talking about. Not planting bombs, not killing people. I’m a coward.’

‘Don’t be so hard on yourself,’ says Bogdan. ‘We all have different strengths.’

‘But the question remains,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Why did she ring you on the night she died? Moments before she died.’

Jamie looks around the room to see if an answer might magically appear, but nothing springs out. ‘I swear I don’t know.’

Elizabeth walks over to her desk and picks up a notepad. She turns to the page with the number that Holly rang, returns and shows it to Jamie. ‘This is your number?’

Jamie takes a look and nods. ‘Yeah, that’s my number. That’s what she rang?’

‘Rang it,’ says Elizabeth, ‘got into her car and was killed instantly. That’s why we came to see your wife, and, when we found out your record, our attention turned to you.’

Jamie is shaking his head, trying to get rid of this reality.

Criminals are good liars, but a criminal this good at lying would be a great deal richer than Jamie Usher.

He doesn’t have a clue what Elizabeth is talking about.

Holly Lewis was not ringing him on the night she died, Elizabeth is sure of it.

‘Your wife,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Sit up, Jamie, no one’s going to hurt you. You have a criminal record – I wonder, does she?’

‘Jill? Never been in trouble, hates the idea of it.’

‘Sometimes we don’t truly know people,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Does she know everything about you?’

‘No,’ says Jamie. ‘Of course not. I do bad things.’

‘Hmm,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Perhaps she does bad things and doesn’t tell you about them. Why did you move up to Manchester?’

‘Jill wanted a fresh start,’ says Jamie. He looks over to Bogdan and says, very meekly, ‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea.’

‘Make it yourself,’ snarls Bogdan.

‘We can drop it now, Bogdan,’ says Elizabeth.

Bogdan gives a happy nod. ‘Milk and sugar?’

‘Uhh, just milk,’ says Jamie, and Bogdan heads to the kitchen.

‘So it was her idea to go to Manchester?’ says Elizabeth.

‘Well …’ begins Jamie, his brain making recalculations. ‘Yeah, it was, but because of me.’

‘And did she have any close friendships down here?’ Elizabeth asks. Have they been blinded by Jamie’s past? Have they been hoodwinked by the sweet little nursery-school teacher afraid of trouble? Too many people in this case have secrets. Does Jill Usher have a secret that explains the whole thing?

‘A few,’ says Jamie. ‘Work friends and that.’

‘Did she ever mention a Holly Lewis?’

Jamie shakes his head, like he wants to help but can’t. ‘Honestly, I’ve never heard the name before.’

Bogdan walks back in with a tea for Jamie.

‘Thank you,’ says Jamie, then looks at Elizabeth. ‘Who are you? Who was the woman you were with?’

‘That was Joyce,’ says Elizabeth. ‘We’re investigating the murder of Holly Lewis. And the whole investigation seems to hinge on why she rang your phone number.’

‘You have to believe me,’ says Jamie. ‘It can’t be me, and it can’t be Jill. It’s not possible.’

Elizabeth looks at Bogdan. He shrugs. ‘Perhaps it was a wrong number?’

Not Jamie and not Jill. But surely not a wrong number? Holly Lewis, in a panic, keying in the wrong digits?

Or was she keying in the right digits? Elizabeth almost laughs.

‘I have Holly’s code.’