Rosie's Diamond - Chapters 41 to 45
THE story so far: Jennie tells Bill that she is coming to England with Charlie Randle.
THE story so far: Jennie tells Bill that she is coming to England with Charlie Randle. Vic goes matchmaking and arranges for Rosemary and Gerald to spend an evening together alone.
Bill Allington starts searching for Terence Cragge. Terence has discovered that Rod had kept a record of his criminal activities and realised that if it was discovered that he would be spending most, if not all, of the rest of his life in jail.
He was sure that it was no longer in South Africa so was sure that it had to be with Rod's widow, whether she was aware of it or not.
Chapter Forty One
Vic was right. He wouldn't see Rosie until Tuesday morning. He would have done but had decided to go to bed early, partly through tiredness and partly through boredom. He had left the outside light on. After his chat with Bill Allington he thought it would be prudent. Somehow he had got the message across to Rosemary without any alarm bells ringing.
It was only a short time later that he heard Rosemary and Gerald drive up. He didn't get up again thinking that it would be best to leave them alone. He needn't have worried because no sooner had he heard the front door close than he heard the sound of Gerald's car driving away. I hope they haven't argued already he thought. When he heard Rosemary's footsteps on the stairs he changed his mind about seeing her, jumped out of bed, put on his dressing gown and opened the bedroom door.
"Hi Rosie," he called across the landing, "everything ok?"
"Yes of course, why do you ask?"
"Well last night the two of you sat up talking and tonight he just dropped you at the door and left."
"Actually there's a reason, but it's good. I'll tell you all about it in the morning."
"Any hints?"
"In the morning."
She smiled and went into her bedroom.
He was intrigued but knew that he would find out nothing until the morning. Reluctantly he closed his door and went back to bed. His tiredness had gone, so he picked up his book to help the tiredness return to his eyes that, a few minutes ago, were almost closed.
It didn't take long. Within half an hour he was fast asleep with the bedside light still on and his book on the floor beside him.
When he woke the following morning he picked up his book, flattened out the creased pages and turned the light off. He showered and shaved quickly and was getting dressed when he heard movement outside on the landing, letting him know that Rosemary was already up. He dressed as quickly as he had washed and hurried downstairs, his curiosity from the previous evening had in no way lessened.
He heard more movement in the kitchen and knowing that it was still half an hour away from Connie's starting time went in to satisfy his curiosity.
Rosemary was pouring boiling water into the teapot on the breakfast bar.
"Now, what were you saying last night?" she asked offhandedly.
He thumped the top of the bar. "Good God, woman, just tell me."
"I might and then again I might not."
"Please."
"Are you begging?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll tell you. Gerald and I are going to Spain for a couple of weeks."
He raised his eyebrows.
"Don't get too far ahead of yourself. Gerald has a villa there that has three bedrooms and we will be sleeping in separate rooms. With no little thanks to you we have realised that we have feelings for each other and thought that this time together would help us to find out just how deep they may go."
She paused waiting for a response.
He reached forward and took hold of her hand.
"Rosie, I think that's great. Don't you worry about anything. I'll stay here and keep an eye on things. You just go and enjoy yourself. When are you going?"
"Friday."
"Friday?"
"Yes, why? Is that too soon?"
"No, no, not at all. It's just that when you decide to do something you don't mess about, do you?"
She smiled coyly. "You really are okay with it?"
"Yes, I am, absolutely," he said putting his arms around her, "there's just one thing."
"Yes?" She stepped back.
"Before you go I think I should have a quiet chat with Gerald, you know, just to go through the do's and don'ts."
His face was serious.
Her mouth opened ready to warn him not to, but before she could speak his face broke into a huge grin. "Just kidding," he stepped quickly back to avoid any possibility of being hit.
The attempt was made but he had stepped back fast enough and far enough and she missed.
Smiling broadly he turned and left the room, whistling the strains of 'Young Love." As he closed the door he heard the sound of the book, albeit a paperback, hitting the door where he had been standing a second before.
It was mid-morning when Gerald appeared at the Manor. He no longer rang the bell unless the gate was closed. This time it wasn't, so he walked up the drive and opening the front door announced his arrival by shouting a cheery "Don't worry, it's only me."
He had been up early that morning booking air tickets on Iberia and calling the Spanish woman he employed to clean the villa, to ensure that she had it ready for Friday and to get her to do some food shopping – just the essentials until they had the chance to get to the supermarket themselves. The one other thing that he had done, that had all but slipped his mind, was to book a hire car from Hertz, he always used Hertz, to pick up at Malaga airport when they arrived.
"Good morning Gerald," Rosie's voice echoed back down the hallway from the kitchen.
"Everything's arranged," he said as he entered the kitchen, "flights booked and I've arranged for a car at the Malaga airport."
"I'm really looking forward to it. I've never been to Spain. What time is the flight?"
That initially surprised him until he quickly realised how long she had been in South Africa. Where do South Africans go when they go abroad? No answer sprang to mind.
"It leaves just after midday, although we have to be at the airport to check in at least two hours before flight time."
"Which airport?"
"Oh, Gatwick, which means that we will have to leave here somewhere around eight forty-five. That should give us plenty of time without having to rush even if the M25 is busy."
"And we don't have to worry about the houses because Vic will be here to keep an eye on them but he's not much of a housekeeper so Connie has agreed to pop in a couple of days while we're away.
"Where exactly is your villa, Gerald? I was looking at a map last night but had no idea of where I should be looking."
"If you've got the map handy it would be much easier for me to show you."
"Just a second," she jumped up and left the kitchen only to return a few minutes later with a huge atlas that had a sheet of notepaper sticking out. She opened it at the page that was marked with the notepaper to display a map of Spain.
Gerald came over and leaned over her shoulder. It felt good to be so close to him but she showed no reaction apart from turning the atlas a little towards him so he could more easily show her where they would be staying.
"There's Malaga, where the airport is, and down this way," he drew his hand along the coast line to the west, "is Marbella. It's about a forty mile drive so it won't take too long."
He continued to draw a few more imaginary lines with his finger. "For sightseeing, you can see that we are close to Gibraltar, Ronda, Granada and the Alhambra Palace, and Seville. Seville will also give you the chance to do some Spanish shopping."
His hand was still on the map when she clasped it. "Gerald, this is really exciting. I'm so much looking forward to it."
She looked into his eyes but before the moment could turn into anything more the kitchen door swung open and Vic came in.
Chapter Forty Two
It was ten-thirty on Friday morning when Bill Allington turned into the Manor driveway. He had assumed that the gate would be closed but it wasn't so he drove up to the front door. When the door opened to him he had expected to find Connie standing there but to his surprise he found Vic before him, still in his dressing gown and unshaven.
"Morning Vic."
"Hello Bill."
He stood looking at Bill, obviously not being long up.
"Sorry Bill, come in. I've only just got up and I'm not in the real world yet," he said, stating what was plainly obvious to his visitor.
Closing the door he turned to Allington. "Rosemary's away for a few days, but if I can do anything to help, then please ask."
"No, not really, I was hoping to catch you. I had that footprint checked and the lab were of the opinion that it was that of a slightly built youth and had been there for awhile. I've also got a couple of pictures for you to look at, well sketches really, of the two South Africans who were in the Rising Moon the other night."
He took them out of his brief case and handed them to Vic. "They are only rough sketches, I haven't even shown them to the landlord yet. I had them done just as an after thought from the description he gave me. If you recognize either of them I'll get a proper one done."
Vic shook his head. "You're right Bill, they are rough. I wouldn't recognise either of them if one was my own father."
Bill reached out and took the sketches back, looking at them ruefully. "Yeah, I suppose."
"Have you seen them again?"
"No, but I intend doing a pub crawl tonight to see if they're still around.
He frowned.
"You doing anything tonight?"
"No."
"Fancy coming with me?"
"Well, I'm on my own so yes, I'd be glad of the company."
"Fine, I'll pick you up about seven-thirty."
"Ok, see you then."
Chapter Forty Three
After finding no secret hiding places in Rod Van der Velde's old house, Terence Cragge had assumed that any records that Rod had kept had been shipped to England with his widow. The chances were that she had no idea of their existence, but it was possible that one day she would stumble upon them. It was likely, he thought, that if she did, she would want to get rid of them to avoid implicating herself in any way or she might hand them over to the authorities. However it was a chance he could not afford to take. He couldn't risk having to spend the rest of his life in prison. The only thing that would restore his peace of mind was to find those records himself.
That night in the manor when he came across that damned kid – why the hell did the stupid bastard have to pick that night to break in? He hadn't had the chance to look for anything as he had come across the kid almost as soon as he had got in himself.
As soon as the gun went off he got out just as quick as he could. He had no idea who had fired the shot but he had felt the wind as the bullet raced past his face. Christ, another couple of inches and it would have been him lying there instead of the kid.
Just who had been the target?
He wondered why the shooter hadn't fired a second shot at him as he ran down the stairs. That in itself was a feat – running down strange stairs in the dark – but he didn't want to get shot and he didn't want to get involved with the police.
It was weird. He knew that Rod's widow lived alone yet on that night there were two other people, apart from himself, in the house. It seemed too much of a coincidence that three separate people would pick the same day and the same hour to break into the same house. The odds against even two must have been huge. He would have loved to have known who the third person was and who the hell was it that screamed like that, it certainly wasn't the kid that got shot, but it was more important to get out alive and in one piece. Maybe he would find out later.
He was out of the house and grounds minutes before the police arrived, and had run the two to three hundred yards down the road to where Stan Kuyper was waiting in the car. As they drove back towards Wulfrum and passed the Manor's entrance the police were just pulling in. The odds were that they would never know that he had been there and that they would assume it was just the kid. It was their problem to find out who had killed him. Himself, he was just pissed off. It meant that he would have to find another opportunity to get into the Manor.
Happy to have got out in one piece he got Stan to drive to the Rising Moon. He really felt the need for a drink.
Chapter Forty Four
The plane left Gatwick on time and arrived at Malaga ten minutes early. They checked out through customs, picked up their bags, collected the hire car and set out on the drive to Marbella. Less than an hour later they were taking the luggage back out of the car.
The villa was set back from the road and the villas on either side were a good hundred yards away. They had driven straight into the double garage which had automatic doors as did the entrance gate to the property.
The entry door from the garage led directly into the kitchen. Gerald unlocked it and stood back to let Rosemary in first. The kitchen was completely tiled in the Spanish fashion with foot-square tiles on the floor and six-inch ones covering the walls from floor to ceiling. It was huge and had a breakfast room leading off it that was more of a sun room, only the ceiling was not made of glass. The view was superb and took in the Straits of Gibraltar and the Mediterranean.
"Gerald, you never told me it was this good."
"Yes, it is pretty special isn't it?"
"Show me the rest of it."
"Come on then," he smiled.
Instinctively she took hold of his hand.
There were no doors from the kitchen to the main part of the house, just a double-door sized arch. The floor tiles continued throughout the main floor. The walls to the living and dining room were painted white which gave an even bigger feel to an already large room. There were four large windows, two on either side, all of which were adorned with very generous cream drapes that reached down to the floor. Either side of the room had three scenic Spanish oil paintings hanging, one either side of the dining area and two each side of the larger living area, all of which Gerald assured her were by local artists and had little monetary value, probably due to the fact that the artists were still alive.
Just through the arch were a dining table and six chairs. The dining room was slightly segregated from the living area by yet another arch, this one twice the width of the one from the kitchen, yet identical in shape. Beyond it were two leather arm chairs and two two-seater matching sofas. The floor had several large rugs spread over it. The front door was oversized and looked castle strength, it had six window lights in the top half, all of which were of thickened glass that let in the daylight but could not be seen through.
To the left of the front door was another door which led into the master bedroom and the en- suite bathroom which consisted of a circular bath, a double shower and a large walk-in wardrobe come dressing room. On the right was a staircase which led up to the other two bedrooms. Both were large and both were en - suite, although not as grand as the ground floor master suite. Under the stairs was a fourth bathroom which, although it was fitted with a shower, was obviously used only as a toilet.
The whole house had clearly only just been cleaned. Everything was immaculate.
After the tour of the house Gerald took her out to the rear patio which again was tiled and surrounded the pool. The view from here was even better than from the breakfast room as it encompassed over one hundred and eighty degrees of sea.
"It's beautiful," she said as she stood at the far end of the patio looking out to sea, "I'm so pleased we came."
"You stay out here. I'll go and put the kettle on. I'm sure that Senora Vasquez got the few items that I asked her to get."
"No, I'll do that. You get the bags from the car."
After bringing the bags in he came back into the kitchen.
"I've made a few sandwiches to go with the tea. There's only ham to go in them. Your Spanish lady hasn't long been gone, the bread is still warm."
"That's fine. I've put your bags in the master bedroom and mine upstairs," he didn't want to put any pressure on her so he thought that it would be best to sort out the sleeping arrangements straight away.
"Really, you didn't have to, I would have been happy enough upstairs."
"I know you would but I would like you to have the best room."
"Thank you."
She put the sandwiches and the tea on the table. "Sit down and eat your sandwiches and then we can unpack. I doubt if another ten minutes will add any more creases."
He sat down. "Then we must pop into town and do a little food shopping."
"How will we manage, I mean with the language?"
"No problem I know enough Spanish to get by and in any case, in this part of Spain most people speak a fair amount of English. After all, that's where most of the tourists come from."
They bought mainly breakfast items such as eggs, bacon, cereal and fresh fruit, along with lots of drinks – both alcoholic and soft – to keep in the fridge.
Rosemary had asked what they should get for dinner that night but Gerald had said that they were on holiday and hadn't come this far for either of them to labour over a hot stove; that they would eat out each night, except for one night when he would barbecue on the patio and they could watch the sunset. "If we pick the right night the sunsets here can be stunning."
"I'll leave that for you to decide. What shall we do this evening?"
"I thought that we would just drive into Marbella. There are some really nice restaurants there and over dinner we can decide what to do tomorrow."
When she came out of her bedroom Gerald was already dressed, listening to a compact disc of Spanish guitar music. As soon as she emerged he jumped up.
"You look stunning."
"Thank you sir, you look pretty good yourself."
She had on a pair of black trousers and a fairly tight red blouse which emphasized her ample breasts. Her hair was fastened up and she had applied just the right amount of make-up.
She walked over to him placing her hands on his shoulders and reaching up on tiptoes, kissed him gently on the cheek. As she stepped away and took her hands down he caught hold of them.
They stood looking into each other's eyes. They had both moved forwards a mere fraction of an inch when the chiming of the door bell stopped them in their tracks. With a sigh Gerald stepped back and turned towards the door. Rosemary smiled and walked into the kitchen.
Gerald opened the door. There was no one there. He stepped outside and looked both left and right. There was no one to be seen.
Suddenly he jumped as he heard a loud bang. The front door had slammed to behind him. Before he could open it, Rosemary had opened it from the inside. "Sorry," she said, "I opened the back door and the draft must have done it."
He said nothing but knew that the front door was much too heavy for a draft to have slammed it that hard. She looked past him. "Who was there?"
"No one. It's probably a fault in the wiring. I'll have it checked."
As she turned and went back in he had the feeling that he saw a concerned look flash in her eyes. He said nothing then but determined to mention it over dinner.
Chapter Forty Five
Bill Allington had phoned Vic to let him know that he would be about twenty minutes late picking him up.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said as Vic closed the front door behind him and followed him down the steps.
"No problem"
"I thought we'd try the Rising Moon first. Mike knows who we're looking for and he can tell us if he's seen them, we'll take it from there."
They got into Allington's car and headed off. Vic hadn't realised from the outside that the car even though unmarked was a police car.
"First time I've been in a police car."
"Well, as long as you're not in the back seat. . ."
"That's for sure."
Being a Tuesday night the Rising Moon was not all that busy and Mike was working the bar alone. As they walked in, Allington, on seeing the number of people in the bar, considered that maybe Tuesday was not the best night for their purpose.
"Hello Mike."
"Sergeant, how are you?"
"I'm good."
"This is a friend of mine, Vic Bannerman." They shook hands.
"Vic is Rosemary Van der Velde's brother."
"Oh yes, I'd heard that you were in town, I'm pleased to meet you" smiled Mike , "what can I get you?"
"Just a couple of halves of lager," said Allington and then realised that he was presuming to know what Vic wanted, "if that's okay with you?"
"That'll be fine."
Mike pre-empted Allington's question.
"Haven't seen those guys you were looking for again."
"You must be a mind reader Mike. That's the reason we're here. We thought we'd try you first, seeing as how they've already been in here."
Mike looked quizzically at Vic and then back at Allington who realised that he should offer some kind of explanation.
"A few years ago Vic had dealings with some South Africans and there might be some connection, so he's with me just in case he recognises either or both of them."
Mike accepted the explanation without any questions.
"Is it okay if we leave the car in your car park while we visit some of the other pubs?"
"Sure."
They had been in a couple of the other pubs and were heading down towards the Ploughman when Allington's mobile rang.
"Hello."
"Yes it is."
"That's some coincidence. We'll be back in ten minutes. Thanks for calling."
Turn round Vic. They've just walked into the Rising Moon. That was Mike on the phone."
"Crunch time," he replied. "Leg's go and check 'em out."
Vic thought that he had managed to sound matter of fact but inside he suddenly felt a little nervous.
In no time they were crossing the Moon's car park.
"Take your time in looking for them Vic, I mean don't make it obvious."
"Got yuh."
As they walked in they caught a glimpse out of the side of their eyes of two men sitting at a table over by the window.
"Hi, Mike," Allington made the greeting sound as if it was for the first time that night.
"Evening Bill, evening Vic," came the reply with no suggestion that Allington had any police involvement. He immediately regretted saying 'Vic,' just in case the two men heard and recognised the name or the face, but standing where he was he could see them clearly and they gave no indication of any recognition.
"Two halves, gents?" he asked in a normal voice and then in a hardly audible whisper added, "over by the window."
He then pulled the lagers, put them on the counter and left Bill and Vic to their own devices.
They sat and chatted for awhile without looking over at the two men. After about ten minutes Vic went to the toilet, which necessitated passing close to the table.
"Did you recognise them?" Allington asked on his return.
"One of them had his back to me but the other one I've never seen before."
"Probably the same with the other one too."
"More than likely."
"In any case we'll wait till we see his face. I'd like to be able to keep an eye on them. You never know and quite frankly, it's the only semblance of a lead that we've had."
"Well I'm in no great hurry. How about the other half?"
Allington pushed the empty glass to the other side of the bar, signifying a 'yes.'
They drank that half and then another. The man with his back to them had still not shown his face. They ordered a fourth half each and were discussing whether to play pool or not, as the pool table would afford them a look at his face, when the two men stood up and walked towards the door.
The one who had his back to them paused and came up to the bar. Standing next to Vic he addressed Mike. "Twenty Rothmans, please," and laid a five pound note on the bar. The accent was obvious.
Mike gave him his cigarettes and his change and the man left.
The mirror behind the bar had been useful as they got a good look at him without making any concerted effort to see him. He got a good look at them too.
After he had picked up the packet and the change and left, Allington looked at Vic. "Well?" he questioned.
He was surprised to see that Vic's face had drained of colour. "Vic, what is it?"
"That's the bastard that burned my back," he said very slowly and very quietly. "He's put on weight and he didn't have that scar then, but I'm damn sure it's him. What's even worse, I get the feeling that he recognised me – but from the way he was looking at me he couldn't quite remember where from."
"I must admit I thought he was giving you a good look. Do you know his name?"
"All I know is that the others called him Terence."
"From what you told me, when he attacked you it wasn't because of anything you'd done to him it was because your brother-in-law had told him to. Which means that he has nothing personal against you, and now that Van der Velde's dead he has no reason to come after you again."
"I hope you're right Bill, because he's a mean son of a bitch."
"I might find out more about him on Friday. I've got some people from the South African police coming over who I have to pick up at the airport, and one of them is well versed in Van der Velde's activities."
"Wow, it's that serious that they are sending their own police over?"
"What? Oh, no, they're coming over on an exchange with Scotland Yard for about two weeks. It's just that one of them is the man I have been speaking to about Van der Velde and I'm sure he will be of great help. At least now I have the name of Terence to throw at him. Anyway it's getting late, so I'd better get you home."
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