‘I wasn’t quite that naïve,’ Arthur went on. ‘I suspected something. And to tell the truth I deserved for something to happen. I’d just shut myself off there and didn’t know how to cope. It wasn’t just Sara. My father died around the same time, if you remember, and then Mum was so ill and it all got a bit too much, I suppose.’

‘So …’ Alec wasn’t quite sure how to put this. ‘What did happen? Between you and Rupert, I mean.’

Audrey shrugged sadly. ‘Not a lot, if you must know. We kissed then we both came to our senses, or so I thought.’

‘But we still visited Rupert, right up to when I was about ten. I remember the visits.’

She nodded. ‘We did and if I’d had my way one stupid moment would have been one forgotten stupid moment. I was very careful not to be alone with Rupert and to make clear to him that it was your father I wanted to be with.’

‘But Rupert wouldn’t let it go. It seems he was quite besotted and one day he said so. I didn’t know how to react and we had a big row. I told your mother to pack and we left. I never did get around to making up with him, at first because I felt betrayed and hurt and angry, and then later … well, later was just too late. You know how these things can be? If it had been anyone else but my brother …’

Alec closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He wanted to sleep, but he had other questions to ask, more relevant to now, and he knew he would want to leave early the next day and be back at Fallowfields as soon as possible.

‘I’m sorry, Alec,’ his mother said.

‘Why did you never tell me about Sara?’

They looked at one another, his father and mother, these adults who had raised him and done a good job by and large. These adults who had twenty plus years experience ahead of his and he saw only bewilderment on their faces.

‘I don’t know,’ Audrey said at last. ‘At first I couldn’t bear to talk about it and then it just never seemed to be the right time.’

Alec laid the locket down on the arm of the chair. His father’s chair. He let it lie, not quite knowing what to do with it. It was odd, he thought, just how quickly the story had emerged once given the right prompt. They must have talked about it in the days since Rupert’s death. Or if not talked, both thought so much about those days that their memories transmitted one to the other by some strange osmosis so that when the right stimulus was applied they both knew exactly what to say and that this was the time to say it.

‘I’ve got to ask you something else,’ he said. ‘There’s no easy way to put this, but did you ever suspect Rupert might have been involved in anything illegal?’

That shared look again. Alec’s heart sank. Something else they did not talk about?

‘He got fired from a job,’ Alec’s father said. ‘He was working for a firm of accountants. They also handled stock portfolios, insurance, all of that. I suppose they were more financial advisors than accountants in the true sense … Anyway, he was sacked, accused of what we’d now call insider trading. Seems a client had given him some kind of tip-off about a takeover. I don’t recall the details. I’m not sure I ever knew them, but Rupert was able to sell rather quickly on behalf of several of the firm’s clients and, it seems, saved them quite a packet.’

‘So they sacked him?’

‘It came out that he might have had inside knowledge and they could not be seen to encourage a technical fraud. Rupert was quite bitter about it, I believe.’

‘When was this?’

His parents thought about it. ‘You must have been about nine or ten. It was around the time we had our falling out, so 1980 or maybe 1981. I can’t be sure. Sorry Alec, it was quite some time ago.’

‘So, he was already living at Fallowfields.’

‘Had been for some years by then. He bought it for little or nothing. I remember telling him, “Rupert, I wouldn’t touch that place with a bargepole”. It needed a new roof and electrics and all the plumbing ripping out. There was no heating. It was just a shell of a place but he said he liked the location. His job wasn’t local to Fallowfields, though. He was just travelling up for weekends then and still had his flat in London. So far as I know he still did. Wasn’t it mentioned in the will?’

Alec frowned. ‘I’m not sure. The solicitor gave me a whole folder full of stuff. It’s in the car, I wanted to go through it with you but I don’t recall anything about a flat in London.’

It all fitted time wise though, didn’t it, Alec thought. The robberies, the annoyance at being sacked. Was that what had triggered Rupert? Some kind of revenge against the financial community at large? His parents clearly knew nothing about that and for the moment at least he thought he would keep it that way. Alec gave up on trying to figure out the motivation. He had another question and this was, on a personal level, the most important.

‘How did he buy Fallowfields?’ he asked. ‘Where did the money come from?’

‘From your grandfather,’ his father said. ‘Alec, there’s no mystery about that.’

‘I know he left money in his will, but Rupert owned Fallowfields long before that.’

‘No, no. You see he set up trust funds for us both and being an old-fashioned soul they were set up so we got them when we married or turned twenty-five. I used mine for the deposit on this place and Rupert used his for Fallowfields. Bought it outright, it was in such a state. Then when our father died, we came into his estate and when Mother became so ill I had power of attorney over her savings as well. We used most of it for nursing care, but what was left when she died was split between us. I invested mine and I’m pretty certain Rupert did the same. You’ve got to remember, Alec, the stock market actually returned something in those days.’

‘I think he used it later to buy the shop,’ Audrey said. ‘That’s what we always understood, anyway.’

Alec nodded, relieved.

‘Why the question?’ His father wanted to know.

‘No reason,’ he lied. ‘In my position though, I need to know.’

His father nodded. ‘Of course. Everything must be seen to be legal, I guess. I’m sure his solicitor could verify things if you’re worried.’

Alec nodded.

His father yawned and got up. ‘I’m sorry, Alec, but I’m off to bed. Way past my usual time and you look all in.’

‘I feel it,’ he agreed. He made his way up to the guest room but knew, despite his exhaustion, he would find it hard to sleep. Shrewd investments didn’t account for all of Rupert’s legacy, of that he was certain, but even if it did, Billy Pierce had told him that the money from the first two robberies had never been recovered. So, where was it? That, Alec guessed, was also what Kinnear wanted to know.

Twenty-Three

Patrick rarely slept deeply and the sound of his phone having received a message was enough to wake him. He fumbled about on the bedside table trying to locate his phone, then stared at the screen. One message, unknown number and the time was two fifteen.

Ordinarily, Patrick ignored anything that came up as unknown, but he had a fair idea who this might be from.

Patrick sat up and switched on the bedside light.

The text was brief. Meet me? Now.

For a minute or two Patrick stared at it, not sure what to do. Why did he want to meet now and for what? He had hoped the boy would get in touch, sensing something very wrong and also hoping that he was the same person Marcus had reported coming to the shop.

But he’d been unprepared for this to happen in the dead of night.

Patrick texted back, then slipped out of bed and found his clothes. As quietly as he could he made his way past the rooms now occupied by Naomi on one side and his father on the other. Patrick had been given the small bedroom at the rear of the house. The stairs creaked and groaned as he tiptoed down, taking care to keep to the very edge of the tread but flinching at every sound. Had he not been dressed he could have used the excuse of getting a drink if he was found out. He decided if his father woke he’d simply say that he couldn’t sleep and remind his dad that he didn’t have his dressing gown with him and was far too old to wander about a strange house in just his pyjamas.