Malice at the Palace (26 page)

“There is one more move we can make,” I said. “There is a wall safe in Bobo's apartment. I discovered it.”

Sir Jeremy looked at Darcy, inquiring whetherhe knew that I had been breaking and entering. Darcy's face remained impassive.

“My grandfather is a former London policeman,” I went on. “I asked him if he could find someone who could open a safe. He thought he knew an ex-convict who was an expert with safes, but the man wouldn't do it.”

Sir Jeremy put down his whiskey glass, shaking his head. “Lady Georgiana, you never fail to surprise me,” he said. “You calmly talk about dead bodies and now finding an ex-convict to crack a safe. Most young ladies in your position would have swooned at the mention of such things.”

“I suppose I take after my Rannoch ancestors,” I said. “They were known to be fearless and reckless. And I've had my share of being involved in unpleasant matters.”

“We can turn this knowledge over to DCI Pelham,” Sir Jeremy said. “I'm sure he must have access to safecrackers and I don't think he seems to be getting anywhere either. He was most annoyed when we told him he had to release O'Mara because he had been working undercover.”

Darcy shifted uneasily on his chair. “If you want the safe opened without telling Pelham, I could give it a try,” he said. “I've opened a couple of safes in my dubious career and I suspect that a wall safe in a woman's flat wouldn't be too complicated. But how do we get in without going past the hall porter?”

“I have a key. I obtained it from her former cleaning lady,” I said. “I think it works for the servants' entrance.”

Sir Jeremy rolled his eyes. “I have not heard a word of this conversation,” he said, “but if you find anything of significance in that safe, I'd like to know about it.”

“Of course,” we said in unison, looked at each other and smiled.

LATE ON NOVEMBER 8

A spot of safecracking.

It was quite dark by the time we left Sir Jeremy's and Darcy hailed a taxicab. Luckily I had Bobo's key in my purse. Darcy had the cab drop us on Park Lane rather than outside Bobo's block of flats. I felt rather proud of myself when I led Darcy around to show him the back entrance, but the pride vanished when we found the entrance locked for the night. I tried both my keys but neither worked.

“Bolted from the inside for the night. That's torn it,” Darcy said. “Now we have two options. Either we go away and try during the daytime tomorrow or we bluff our way past the doorman.” He looked at me and grinned. “I say the latter.”

“You do the talking,” I said. “That Irish blarney of yours might get us past.”

“As it happens, I don't even think we'll need too much blarney,” he said. “Come on, let's go and present ourselves to William.”

We went around to the front of the building and Darcy marched ahead of me through those glass swing doors and up to the doorman's cubby. A ginger-haired man started to come out when he heard us, then stopped.

“Good evening, William,” Darcy said, going up to him with a jaunty stride. “It's been a long time. How are you?”

The man's face lit up. “Mr. O'Mara. How nice to see you. It has been a long time. In fact we were just talking about you the other day and saying that we had expected you to come and stay when Miss Carrington was away during the summer.”

“Unfortunately I couldn't make it this time, although I always enjoy staying here,” Darcy said. “I was in America, as it happens.”

“America? Fancy that. Is it all that they say it is?”

“And more,” Darcy said. “But a terrible depression is going on there just like here.”

William nodded. “There's not a day goes by that I'm not thankful I've got a job, Mr. O'Mara. When you see all those poor wretches on street corners, don't you? And at the soup kitchens in the stations.”

“You do indeed.” Darcy paused for an instant. “You've been keeping well? And the family? Growing up fast?”

“Indeed they are, Mr. O'Mara,” William said. “Eating us out of house and home.” Then his smile faded. “But I'm afraid Miss Carrington isn't in residence, if that's who you've come to see, sir. Hasn't been home for days now.” He leaned closer to Darcy. “And between ourselves, there's something funny going on. Frederick says the police were here. They didn't identify themselves as police, but you can always tell, can't you?”

“That's exactly why I'm here,” Darcy said. He moved over until he and William were standing very close together. “I heard about the police, you see, and it occurred to me that I might have left some items in Miss Carrington's flat. Now, I suspect the police raid must have something to do with drugs. We all know that Miss Carrington has a nasty little habit, don't we? Well, I've never touched a drug in my life and I don't want the police putting two and two together and making five, if you get my meaning. So I thought I'd take a quick look around and make sure there's nothing of mine up in the flat. If that's all right with you, of course?”

William wrinkled his nose, deliberating. “I'm not sure about that, Mr. O'Mara.”

“Did the police actually tell you nobody was to go up to the flat?”

“It was Frederick they talked to, not me. But he didn't say that.”

“So then there would be no reason for me not to take a quick look, would there?” Darcy said. “If you don't feel comfortable, you can always look the other way, you know. I've still got my key, so theoretically I can let myself in whenever I want.”

“So you can, Mr. O'Mara.” William nodded. “Why not?” Then his gaze turned to me. “But the young lady—I don't think Miss Carrington would like that.”

“This is my fiancée, William. Lady Georgiana Rannoch. The king's cousin. Quite beyond reproach.”

“Blimey, so it is,” William said. “Well, then, in that case . . . you ain't the first royal we've had here.”

And he gave us both a knowing nod. I thought it wiser not to ask any questions, but followed Darcy over to the lift.

It wasn't until we were safely ascending that I asked, “Was it wise to tell him so much? Won't he spill the beans to DCI Pelham?”

“You heard him. The Cockney's inbred distrust of the police. And we are old friends. I've always tipped him generously.”

“You amaze me sometimes,” I said.

“That's good.” He smiled at me. “Amazement and adoration seem like a good basis for a happy marriage.”

“You mean my amazement and your adoration?” I quipped back, making him laugh.

T
HE LIFT DOORS
opened and we crossed a deserted landing to Bobo's flat. It smelled even more musty and unpleasant than last time with the rotting food items looking quite disgusting. Darcy recoiled at the state of the place. “Well, one thing is clear,” he said as he crossed the room to hastily draw the curtains. “She'd been living here and intended to come back shortly. She wouldn't have left the place like this for more than an hour or so.” He looked around. “I wonder if she asked William to hail her a taxicab that evening. Or whether anyone came to call for her. We can ask on the way down.” He went through into the bedroom and pulled the heavy curtains across those floor-to-ceiling windows. “Oh, there's my dressing gown,” he said, turning back again.

“You can't take it,” I said hurriedly. “The police will know you've been here.”

“Quite right. I wonder whether I have left anything else here? No time for that now. Well, where's this safe?”

I went over to the wall and removed the painting. Darcy examined the safe and grunted. “Very modern. I don't think I've seen one just like this. So what would Bobo use as a combination? Her birthday? I know the date but not the year.” He tried several with no success. He tried other combinations, then shook his head. He put his ear to the safe and turned the dial slowly. Then he said, “Let's think. She's sneaky in some ways. Inventive. But lazy. Wait a minute.” He turned the dial left then right and to my amazement the safe swung open.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

He grinned. “Luck,” he said. “I retraced my steps to where we began and figured she might only have moved the dial once after she closed the safe. Lazy, you see.”

It was a small safe, stuffed quite full. I had expected maybe jewels but I was surprised to pull out mainly photographs and letters. Darcy whistled as he removed a large bundle of five-pound notes. “A little emergency cash,” he said. “And here is where the rest goes.” He held up what seemed to be a bankbook. “Swiss bank account. She plays the helpless female very well but she's as sharp as they come.”

“Played,” I said. “She's dead. She wasn't sharp enough to spot danger coming.”

We both stood in silence for a moment. Then Darcy said, “So what about these photos and letters?”

I picked up one. “‘My darling Gerald, how I've pined for you. Are you staying away deliberately, you wicked boy? I've been at the Black Cat numerous times and you've never shown up.'” I looked up at Darcy.

“A love letter,” I said, then I read down to the signature. “It's signed, ‘Your heartbroken Hugo.'

“It's from another man,” I said. “What was Bobo doing with it?”

I picked up one of the photographs. It was of a group of men in bathing costumes, standing with arms draped around each other's shoulders. I thought some of them looked familiar. It was a small snapshot and I peered harder. “That one looks quite like Major Beauchamp-Chough,” I said. “Only younger and minus the mustache.”

“Probably a younger brother,” Darcy said. “Although most army types tend to look the same. Eton and Sandhurst, you know.” He peered at the photograph. “I don't know why she'd want snapshots of men on a beach. But look at this.” He held out a picture of a woman standing with a pretty little girl of six or seven by a country cottage. On the back of the snapshot someone had written,
She looks just like you, Toby.

“Toby?” I asked. “As in Sir Toby Blenchley? But that's not his wife?”

“Definitely not,” he said. “I get the feeling we know now how Bobo made her money. I thought it might be selling drugs, but look at all this. Incriminating evidence. I'd bet the farm that Bobo was a blackmailer.”

“Golly,” I said. “There are a lot of items here. So any one of these people would have wanted her dead.”

“I must take this lot to Sir Jeremy,” he said. “I think I'd be playing with fire if I started probing too closely into Sir Toby's life without proper authority.”

“But she was reputed to be his mistress,” I said. “How could she be blackmailing him?”

“That may be how she worked. She became friendly with powerful men. They gave away too many secrets in the heat of passion and she threatened to expose them. Men with too much to lose.”

“Like Sir Toby,” I said. “The least we can do is to ascertain his movements on the evening Bobo was killed.”

Darcy shook his head. “I already told you that a man like Sir Toby wouldn't do his own dirty work. He'd have hired someone.”

“Could he risk hiring someone?”

“I expect he has a loyal underling who has done unpleasant jobs before and is well paid for his silence,” Darcy said. “It's strange how powerful men think they are untouchable.”

“I wonder why he didn't have someone try to break in here to retrieve the evidence from the safe,” I said, staring down at that snapshot.

“She probably made him think the evidence was in a bank vault or somewhere equally untouchable. In that bank in Switzerland, maybe.”

I leafed through other photographs and letters. I came across a picture of Bobo in a bathing suit, sitting on a yacht with Prince George. He had his arm around her shoulder and they were both holding cocktail glasses. “Surely she couldn't have tried to blackmail him?” I asked.

Darcy stared down at it. “I suppose it's possible if she was ruthless enough.”

“Oh dear. That's exactly what the royal family feared,” I said. “Now he'll seem to be a suspect again.”

“The only thing against that is that he would never have dumped her body outside the very place where his bride-to-be was staying. Even good old George wouldn't be that stupid or that insensitive.”

“That's true.” I felt a little better. I liked George. I liked Marina. I didn't want this complication to blight their marriage and I certainly didn't want to believe that George could be a killer. “The person who did this wanted us to jump to the conclusion that it was Prince George and thus divert suspicion from himself,” I said at last. I leafed through more photographs. Faces seemed familiar but only vaguely, the way one recognizes distant acquaintances at parties.

“We should close the safe and go,” I said. “William will get suspicious if we stay up here too long.”

Darcy closed it, then took out his handkerchief and wiped it free of fingerprints. “Can't be too careful,” he said, grinning. He put back the picture, then looked around the room. “It seems an awful shame to waste the one time we're quite alone and won't be interrupted,” he said.

“Darcy O'Mara,” I replied indignantly, “if you think I'm going to allow any hanky-panky in a room where you've been with another woman, you can think again.”

He chuckled. “I wasn't suggesting a full-blown roll in the hay, but a little kiss and cuddle would be nice.”

“I've nothing against a kiss and a cuddle,” I said, slipping my arms around his neck, “just as long as you don't get carried away.”

“I'm not the only one who gets carried away,” he said. “I think you can be quite a hot little piece at times, young woman. But you're wasting time talking.” And he shut me up very effectively. His kisses were as wonderful as ever and I felt desire welling up in the pit of my stomach. I did want him, badly, and I think I would not only have given in, but even encouraged him at that moment, had it not been for the glimpse of his dressing gown hanging behind Bobo's door. I pushed away from him. “We should go,” I said. “I don't feel comfortable here. Whatever Bobo did, however she lived, you liked her enough once to make love to her, and she didn't deserve to die.”