Rosie's Diamond: Chapters 26 to 30

THE story so far: Bill Allington's investigation is progressing slowly, and Rosemary is surprised by her new found affection for Gerald.

THE story so far: Bill Allington's investigation is progressing slowly, and Rosemary is surprised by her new found affection for Gerald.Chapter Twenty Six

The driveway was as effective as the doorbell. Rosemary knew they were back long before she heard Ruth's giggling in the hallway.

"You two sound happy," she said as they came into the lounge. Ruth was still giggling. "You must have had a good afternoon."

"Nothing exciting, Ruth did a bit too much shopping as usual, but apart from that it was on the whole, uneventful."

"How was Sergeant Allington?"

Michael looked at her, his mouth slightly agape. "Rosie, sometimes you're just too smart for your own good. How on earth did you know?"

"I recognized his voice when he called and just put two and two together. Were you going to tell me about it?"

"I hadn't decided. I didn't want you to be upset again."

"You can't wrap me up in cotton wool, Michael."

It was obvious that he was going to have to tell her something, he just didn't want to tell her too much about Rod's alter ego.

"Basically he asked me about Rod. I got the feeling that he was only asking me in order to avoid upsetting you. He didn't really ask me that much as he had already been speaking to someone in South Africa and they had told him pretty much all he wanted to know. All he wanted from me was to dot the i's and cross the t's. In any case, I couldn't tell him much because I don't know much."

"As things are turning out, it appears that I don't either. Perhaps I should call the Sergeant and find out exactly what he knows."

Michael knew full well that that last statement was made to test him. He failed the test.

"I can see by your face Michael that there are obviously things that I do not know."

He sighed. She had always been able to see through him. "Yes, Rosie, I suppose that there are." The reluctance in his voice was clear.

He had quickly resigned himself to the fact that he had no choice but to tell her something. He just wasn't sure how far he should go.

"It's not good Rosie."

"I gathered that."

"The Sergeant got a fax, a long fax, from the South African police. It listed all Rods' activities. There was a lot of bad stuff in it. It appears that Rod's wealth came not from the diamond business but from organized crime. He was never prosecuted because no one would come forward to give evidence."

"Perhaps that was because there was none," she sounded more hopeful than confident.

"I'm sorry, but that's not the way it was. There is proof that potential witnesses were frightened off. I can't elaborate too much because I did not read the fax myself. I'm only going on what I was told. I really am sorry, I hate telling you this."

"I know you do, but it does explain a lot of things."

"The Sergeant is well aware that you had no idea about all this."

"Didn't I?" Her voice was very quiet, "Didn't I? I can no longer be sure. I always knew that there were things that he didn't tell me but I assumed that it was humdrum work stuff and that he didn't want to bore me with it, or perhaps I just didn't want to believe that he was anything less than perfect. I really don't know any more."

There were tears in her eyes. "How could I be so blind that I never saw anything wrong?"

"Because Rod never allowed you to see anything. The one good thing about this, no matter how bad he was, was the way he treated you, with love and respect. There was good in him or he wouldn't have been that way with you."

He wasn't fully convinced, but wanted to make Rosemary feel better. She was resilient, so she would get over it. It upset him that she had forced him to make these revelations to her, that indirectly it was he who was upsetting her. She seemed to read his thoughts.

"It's all right Michael, it's not your fault. If you hadn't told me I would have found out from someone else and likely not have believed them. At least I know that you wouldn't lie to me. I will be fine, but I would prefer not to talk about it any more at the moment."

"That works for me. In fact to avoid us all falling into total depression we are going out tonight and," he said picking up the phone, "I'm calling Gerald. I think he might just come."

"I'm sure he will," added Ruth.

Rosemary ignored them both.

Chapter Twenty Seven

It wasn't long before he saw the house in the distance. He was nervous. It had been such a long time. Although it had been a forced separation he still felt guilty.

The house drew closer. As he got there he turned into the driveway. He turned back; it was the wrong house. Maybe it's the next one he thought. I hope so. He was still damp and very cold. It was now five-thirty and daylight.

He walked on to the next house. His suitcase somehow didn't seem so heavy now. This was it, the name emblazoned on the heavy gate was Wulfrum Manor. His nervousness caused him to hesitate until a cool breath of wind rose up and made him shiver. He pushed the gate only to find that it was locked. Having made up his mind to wake the house he did not pause again and immediately pressed the bell.

As he had anticipated there was no instant answer. He rang again, with a little more persistence.

He thought he saw a curtain move at one of the upstairs windows as he took his finger off the bell. He waited and was about to ring again when a voice sounded over the intercom.

"Who's there? Do you know what time it is?"

It surprised him because he wasn't expecting a man's voice. Something stirred in his head as he felt, even after all these years, that he recognized the voice. It was older and a little deeper, but he was reasonably sure.

"Michael? Michael Curzon, is that you?"

"Yes, who are you?" Michael's curiosity had now been well aroused and he was wide awake.

"It's Vic."

"Vic?" It was obvious that he had no idea who he was talking to although it was someone who knew him.

"Vic Bannerman."

"Good God, Vic Bannerman. What? Where? Never mind, come on in. We'll talk when you get inside."

There was a buzz and the gate swung open. Vic picked up his suitcase. The fact that Michael had answered removed any lingering doubts as to whether he was at the right place. His steps up the driveway were quicker than any had been during the last few hours.

As he walked up the steps the front door opened before him and Michael stood there in a calf-length white dressing gown with gray pajamas showing below the hem.

He hadn't changed that much considering it had been over twenty years. Obviously he looked older, but he was still easily recognizable. The only difference was a slight paunch and hair that was just beginning to thin.

"Vic, you're soaked," he said while enthusiastically shaking his hand and pulling him towards him. His other hand went up and around Vics shoulder cumulating in a short but warm hug.

"Come in, come in, it's great to see you again. Where the hell have you been? No, don't tell me yet. Come on, I'll show you where the bathroom is and you can shower and change first. Have you got dry clothes?"

"Yes, they should be ok. Where's Rosemary? Is she well?"

"She's fine, she's still asleep. By the time you get yourself sorted out and we've had a chance to talk she should be up. Here's the bathroom, if you need anything just call. I'll be in the kitchen. I imagine a hot cup of tea would go down well."

"I'd kill for one," he replied as he went into the downstairs bathroom.

Chapter Twenty Eight

Bill Allington had been eager to call Charlie Randle back. His eagerness was brought on, in no small way, by the hope that Jennie would answer the phone. She didn't. This time it was a man's voice. For an instant he considered hanging up and calling back later, but he quickly reminded himself that he was a responsible police officer and asked to speak to Charlie. His annoyance that she had not answered his call immediately disappeared when the male voice told him that Charlie was not due in for another couple of hours.

"Could anyone else help you, sir?"

In all honesty he answered in the negative and said that he would call back later.

Groves was watching and listening and had no idea why a failed phone call seemed to make his Sergeant appear to be so pleased with himself. He thought about asking but decided to let it go.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Vic finished up in the bathroom and made his way to the kitchen. He felt a hundred times better and was glowing from the hot shower.

Michael had a pot of tea sitting on the breakfast bar. He hadn't bothered with cups and saucers but had set up a couple of mugs. As he looked at Vic he noticed that the clothes he had changed into were a little crumpled and had obviously been crushed in the suitcase for some time.

Vic had aged but unlike himself had no paunch and no sign of any hair loss. He had always had a great head of hair. The main sign of aging seemed to be in his eyes. Vic had always been energetic and looked younger than he was, but now he looked his age. His eyes no longer sparkled the way they once did. They now looked darker and troubled. He hadn't noticed them at first, but now it stood out clearly. He no longer looked like the happy go lucky Vic of twenty years ago. Michael made a conscious decision not to ask him directly about what had happened to cause his disappearance. If he wanted to tell him he would. However he knew he had to show some interest as to all the lost years.

"Sit down Vic, tea's ready. So what have you been doing with yourself all these years?"

"Nothing exciting, I'm afraid. I'm here because I read what happened in the paper and it said that Rosie was on her own, and I assumed that it would be safe for me to come back into her life."

Michael's interest was suddenly maximized.

"Safe?" he questioned.

"Yes, I presumed that she was divorced from that man."

Michael was still looking at him oddly. "No, she's not divorced. Rod is dead."

"Well, I for one won't shed any tears."

"But you hardly knew him, you only met him a few times."

"I probably knew him better than any of you. For some reason I took an instant dislike to him. I thought that there was something wrong. Although he was seemingly charming and friendly, his eyes told a different story and, if you noticed, that cat you had at the time always ran when he was around and that was one of the friendliest cats you could ever meet. It's well known that if a cat dislikes someone that there is generally a reason. I loved Rosemary. After all, she was my only sister, and I was scared that she was getting into something bad and I didn't want that to happen, so you remember that I took off for a week without telling anyone?"

Michael frowned, but only for a moment. "That's right, I remember now. Mind you no one was too worried, you often did that. However, normally you told Rosie where you were going. The only thing strange that time was that you said nothing to her."

"I couldn't. I went to South Africa to check up on Rod. As I said, I felt certain that he was not all he purported to be."

He paused to take a sip of his tea.

"And?" Michael was by now gripped with total curiosity.

"I was right. I know it seems extreme to fly all that way because of a feeling but my feelings are spot on nine times out of ten and I felt that I was doing the right thing for Rosie, so off I went. I wasn't there long when it became apparent that my feelings were spot on. The diamond business was just a front. Do you have any idea just what that man was up to?"

"At the time no, although I must admit that like you, I didn't like him either, but I couldn't put a finger on it. In the last couple of weeks we have found out all about him. Tell me though Vic, if you knew back then why on earth didn't you tell Rosie?"

Vic stood up. He turned round and pulled his shirt up to his shoulders. His back was full of ugly scars.

"That's why. It's also the reason I didn't drive here. My back can only put up with short drives after about forty or fifty miles it gets really uncomfortable so a two hundred mile drive was not a consideration. Rod found out that I was asking questions. Obviously I spoke to the wrong people and someone rang him and told him. When I got back to England I saw you all again for a few days, but at the time I hadn't decided how I could tell Rosie what I had uncovered. It was after that that I went away. You must have seen my note."

"You were offered a job in Germany and had to leave straight away. You said that you would phone but you never did. Rosie was so upset that you were not at the wedding."

He realised that Vic was going to continue so didn't ask any further questions.

"Well, after the last time I saw you all I went home as normal. When I got home and closed the front door, three men jumped me. At first I thought they were burglars. It was only when they spoke and I recognized the accents that I realised who they were. They were pretty big and nasty and after they had knocked me around a bit they decided that I should be taught a lesson that I would never forget. During the time they were there they told me that Rod was really angry – they used far stronger language than that – that I had been sticking my nose into his private affairs, and that he didn't want me doing it again.

The scars are from the edges of an electric iron. There are thirty-one of them. They didn't use the whole face of the iron because they didn't want me to be so badly hurt that I had to be hospitalised. They didn't want the hospital asking questions. They warned me not to go to a hospital or to a doctor. They said that if I did they would be back and that next time, they would get really serious. They told me to clear out and to never get in touch with Rosie again. If I ignored them they said I would be killed. Michael, I believed them. I didn't want to die. They scared the hell out of me. What was I to do?"

He paused for breath.

"I did the only thing I could. I moved away and laid low. All the time I prayed that this moment would come. I felt like a prisoner on the run. I missed Rosie and I missed all my friends. Most of all I missed my life. I think now you will be able to understand why I'm glad that that bastard is dead. I just hope it was painful."

Michael's face had drained of colour.

"Vic, we had no idea. We just didn't know what to think."

"How could you? I couldn't let you know because I'm sure Rosie would have said something to him and that thought made me afraid for her. If I did anything about it, whatever that would have been, I would have finished up a loser anyway. Catch twenty two, eh?"

"I suppose so. This is going to make Rosie very angry. Rod, believe it or not, always treated her impeccably. He was so in love with her that he worshipped the ground she walked on. Don't think I'm sticking up for him because I'm not, I'm only telling you that so that you are aware that Rosie was treated well despite all we know about Rod. She has had her suspicions, but as I said this is going to make her bloody angry."

"What's going to make who angry?"

They had been so engrossed that neither one had heard Ruth come in. She had no idea who it was who was sitting with his back to her.

"Not you sweetheart. We'll explain in a minute. In the meantime we've got a visitor."

Vic turned around. She looked back at him and then to Michael who merely raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to one side. She thought he looked pale. She returned her eyes to the man on the stool. Then recognition suddenly dawned on her.

"Vic" she exclaimed incredulously.

She almost knocked him over in her rush to hug him.

Vic seemed a little perplexed but returned the hug. She stood back.

"Let me look at you," she said and promptly hugged him again.

"I'm so pleased to see you. Where have you been? Why have you not been in touch? Oh Vic, there's so much to talk about."

"It's good to be back Ruth, you look great."

"You too Vic, you're a sight for sore eyes. So where have you been?"

It was then that she noticed the look on Michael's face and realised that all was not well. "There's something wrong. You're not ill are you? Why didn't you let us know?"

"No Ruth, I'm not ill."

She looked at Michael.

"He's well," confirmed Michael.

She still looked doubtful.

"I think we are going to have to tell her Vic."

Between them they told her. Her face changed continually between amazement and anger.

"Good Lord, you poor man," was all she could say when Vic showed her his back.

"Michael's right, Rosie is going to be upset. But the fact that you are here again will make it easier for her. She has really missed you."

"I often wonder what would have happened had I just called. God, if only I'd known that he had been dead that long."

"Vic," she put her arm around his shoulders and held his hand with her other hand, "you did the right thing. You could not have taken the chance. If you had and anything had happened to you, then that would have destroyed Rosemary's life. I can only imagine what would have happened to her had you told her all this and she had left him, as I'm sure she would have done. I know he treated her well but I'm not so sure he would have let her leave him. I suppose we'll never know for sure but I'm convinced you did the right thing for everyone. I'm just so sorry and sad for you because of it."

This time it was Vic's turn to give her a hug. "Thanks Ruth, you were a good friend then and as it turns out you still are."

He looked over his shoulder towards Michael, "you both are."

His eyes were dry but it was plain to see that he was getting emotional. He checked it by saying "I could do with another cup of tea."

"Sure thing, I'll make us another pot. I'm sure we'll have something stronger later on," he said as he put the kettle on the already warming ring.

"Rosemary still hasn't changed, Vic, she still won't use an electric kettle."

"Old habits die hard. I'll bet she still puts her left shoe on first."

Ruth was amazed. "You still remember that?"

"Of course, memories are all I've had."

He winced as he said it, "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound pathetic."

Neither Ruth nor Michael had time to respond as the whistle of the kettle broke their trains of thought. Vic would have preferred one of them to have said it wasn't pathetic. In his heart though, he knew that it was. It wouldn't happen again.

Chapter Thirty

He waited a couple of hours before calling back to give Charlie plenty of time in case, for some reason, he was running late.

It was strange, he couldn't understand why he was excited at the possibility of talking to a girl that he had never met. At least he assumed she was a girl. She certainly sounded young enough. Hopefully she wasn't too young. She sounded together enough and bouncy enough to be around, he assumed, her late twenties or early thirties.

Perfect! Just a few years younger than him.

He shook his head, he was getting way ahead of himself. There he was, falling for a girl he had never seen, knew nothing about and had only spoken to once on the telephone, and who was thousands of miles away.

To be honest, he thought, that's freaky.

After three rings the phone was picked up at the other end. He recognized the voice immediately.

"Jennie, hello, how are you?"

"Ah, the man with the accent. But you have me at a disadvantage. You know my first name and I only know you as Sergeant Allington, although the fact that you know my name is a surprise to me."

"My name is Bill and Charlie Randle mentioned your name last time I spoke to him."

"Why would he do that?" he felt that she was teasing him.

"It just sort of came up."

"I see, well Bill, tell me a little about yourself. Charlie's on another call and is likely to be a few minutes."

"Well, as you know, I'm a sergeant in the British police. I'm thirty-four years old, only just though," he quickly added. Thirty-four, when he said it, sounded older than he had wanted it to.

"Don't be defensive, that's not old, that's the prime of life. Mind you I'm five years away from it myself."

Great, he thought, that's brilliant.

"Have you got a family Bill?"

"Only a mother and father and two brothers.

"A catch like you not married?"

"I came close once but it never worked out."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it was a long time ago and I'm well over it. How about you?" he crossed his fingers as he asked the question.

There seemed to be a pause before she answered. That worried him.

"Sorry Bill, another call came in. Me? No, I'm in the same boat as you. I had a fairly strong relationship once but when he proposed I said no. I wasn't ready to take it any further and didn't realise it until the proposal. I'm well over it too and as time went by I realised that I had done the right thing. I won't go into details, but suffice it so say that I was well out of it."

She obviously didn't want to talk about it so he didn't press the issue.

"Tell me Bill, how far are you from London?"

"Oh, about a hundred and fifty miles. Why do you ask?"

"It's just possible that I might be coming over for a couple of weeks on an exchange with Scotland Yard. It's not confirmed yet, but it's looking likely and it would be great if I had someone to show me the sights."

"I'd love to."

Was that a little too quick?

If so, she didn't appear to notice.

"That's great," she said enthusiastically.

"When will you know for sure?"

"At the end of the month, about two and a half weeks."

"Let me give you my number here and you can call me when you get confirmation."

"Ok, I've got a pen."

He gave her the number. "Now don't forget to call me."

"I won't."

He thought he heard her shout "Bill" as he put the phone down, but it was too late to stop. No sooner had he put it down than the thought occurred to him. "Shit."

He picked up the phone again and dialed back. Jennie answered.

"It's me. I forgot all about Charlie."

"I know," she said. "I can't imagine what you were thinking."

Again, he was convinced that she was teasing him.

"Take care Bill, we'll talk again. Charlie's free now so I'll put you through."

"That would seem prudent. Ring me when you know."

With that she was gone and Charlie's stronger accent greeted him.

"Bill, Charlie Randle, how are you?"

"Fine, Charlie, thanks. I got your fax."

"Didn't make for good reading did it?"

"It certainly did not."

"Did it help?"

He didn't like to give a straight 'no' as Charlie had obviously gone to a lot of trouble to type it up and send it.

"Not in as much as helping the case we are investigating, but it gave us a lot of background that hopefully may help as time goes on."

"Not much help at all then."

He was plainly a very shrewd man.

"I wouldn't go that far. Remember that all that has happened here is centred around Roderick Van der Velde's widow, and we have no idea what may surface."

He went on to tell Charlie everything that had happened surrounding Mark McKay's shooting.

"Somehow Bill, it seems that the man's legacy lives on. You'd think that with six feet of earth on top of him that that would be the end of it. Mind you, you have to bear in mind that his organisation is still up and running although it's not as widespread as it was. Once we filtered out the crooked cops it was easier to make arrests and get successful prosecutions. There are still some pretty bad bastards out there but I think that we are slowly making headway. There's still a long way to go but least we're getting there."

"That's more than I can say."

"Don't worry, something will turn up. It always does. Don't forget to call me if you think I can help in any way."

Realising that they had gone as far as they could, Bill thanked him for his time and promised to keep him in touch with any progress in Wulfrum.

Hanging up the phone he was disappointed that he had come up with nothing new with regard to the case but was delighted with the way things had gone with Jennie.

"Each time you come off the phone from South Africa you look like the cat that's got the cream," observed Groves.

He just grinned, a big wide grin, but did not volunteer any information, at least not as far as his conversation with Jennie was concerned.

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