Alice coughed as she opened the oven door and waved her hand at the acrid smoke. The smell ofburned flapjacks filled the Messents’ kitchen. She cursed, annoyed that the treat she’d made for Laura was ruined. And now there weren’t enough ingredients to make more.
She dumped the flapjacks in the bin, then, feeling utterly defeated, retreated to the office downstairs and sat with her head in her hands. She dug out the spinner necklace from under her uniform and held it like a crucifix against her lips, but for once it wasn’t giving her any clarity or strength.
At least when her parents had died, Mrs Doulton had scooped her up in her warm arms and comforted her, but for this – possibly the biggest crisis of her entire life – Alice felt completely alone.
Why hadn’t she seen through Gerda the first time she’d come to the office? Or Enya, for that matter? Hindsight was a fine thing, but she couldn’t believe she’d been so naive. So trusting. So happy to take them both at face value. And all these years she’d thought she was a good judge of people. And that she had the smarts to chance her arm at being an amateur detective. How spectacularly wrong she’d been.
And being the fool she was, of course Gerda had been able to blackmail her so easily. Obviously taking Agatha would be the simple way to ensure Alice would comply. Now Gerda held all the cards and Alice had no choice but to play by her rules.
But her heart physically ached whenever she thought of Agatha. Where was her darling dog right now? Would Gerda have given her tea in a saucer for breakfast? She sincerely doubted it. And where exactly had she been taken? Alice tried to imagine Agatha in somebody else’s home with people talking to her in a language she didn’t understand, and it made her want to weep.
She wished she could blow the whistle on this whole terrible business, come clean to Detective Rigby and enlist his help in bringing the Messents and Thérèse to justice, but she knew that was impossible. She still had no solid proof. Plus, Gerda could kill her business at the click of her fingers. But all of that paled into insignificance compared to the true extent of the danger Alice had unwittingly put herself in.
Because this really was no longer a game. Not only had Enya been cold-bloodedly murdered in this house, but it looked increasingly likely that she’d been killed by someone still working here, possibly with the compliance of one of the owners. If Thérèse and Alex really were behind Enya’s death, then what would they do to Alice if they caught her snooping around too?
All last night, she’d battled with her instinct to call Jinx. She must have been going out of her mind with worry after the way Alice had left the office, but Alice had kept her phone switched off. Not only because of Gerda’s threat that she was watching her – quite how, Alice had no idea, but people who worked for Interpol could probably listen in on phones, couldn’t they? And what if what Gerda said was true and the Messents were involved in this huge, despicable fraud? Wouldn’t involving Jinx – and Helly – any further only put them in danger too?
‘Where is your dog?’ Thérèse asked Alice, startling her. She was peering in through the office doorway, dressed in stylish black trousers and a mustard roll-neck jumper, her phone, as ever, in her hand.
The same hand that smashed Enya to the floor in Alex Messent’s study? The same hand that held his during some romantic tryst? The same hand that signed that fake Brazilian passport?
‘Um … my sister is in town,’ Alice lied, trying to keep the panicked, choked-up feeling from her voice. ‘She always likes to look after her.’
‘Ah, yes, very convenient,’ Thérèse said, in such a way that Alice at first took it for sarcasm. What? Surely she couldn’t have somehow already worked out what was going on? ‘Because you’re getting Laura from school today, oui?’ Thérèse said.
‘Yes, yes, exactly.’ Alice smiled, relieved, remembering like a burst of light in the darkness that Massoud would be here. Massoud, who would whisk her away. ‘Would Madame Messent like to see Laura whilst she’s back? For lunch maybe?’ she asked.
‘Non. I don’t think that will be necessary. Madame has engagements today,’ Thérèse said, turning back to her phone, before walking away. Not looking where she was going, she stepped on the old-fashioned grate and her boot heel became stuck.
She stumbled, her foot coming out of the soft leather ankle boot. ‘Oh,’ she said, laughing, retrieving her boot and putting it back on. But as she did, Alice saw that she was wearing a black sock with a gold insignia.
It took forever for ten o’clock to come around and the chance for Alice to escape. She changed out of her uniform and put on the suit Jinx had given her in the office yesterday, although that already felt like a lifetime ago.
Being out of her uniform helped make her feel marginally less like a prisoner. She strode out of the house, down the stoop and got into Massoud’s limousine before he’d even had the chance to get out and open the door.
‘Miss Beeton …?’
‘Just drive,’ Alice said, closing her eyes as the car sped away. Only when they were a few streets away did she let out a sigh followed quickly by a sob.
Massoud leant across to the glove compartment in front of her and extracted a box of tissues, before flicking on the indicator to pull over.
‘No, keep going,’ Alice said, taking a tissue and wiping her eyes. ‘Please. Just get me away from here as quickly as you can.’
‘What’s going on?’ Massoud said. ‘Jinx called me. She told me about that woman taking Agatha to stay with her? That doesn’t sound right.’
Alice took a deep breath. She’d promised Gerda she wouldn’t tell anyone, but in the comfort and safety of Massoud’s car, she felt secure for the first time since Gerda’s visit.
‘Jinx made me promise to get you to call her,’ he said. ‘And you should. Because that’s what friends are for. Particularly in times of need.’
And of course he was right. If the situation had been reversed, she’d have been furious if Jinx hadn’t called her. No matter what the risk.
‘Use my phone,’ he said, picking it up from the compartment between them and handing it to her.
‘Oh, Massoud, thank you.’
Alice watched West London slide by from behind the tinted window as she made the call. Once Jinx had calmed down about Gerda, she made Alice promise not to cut off contact again.
‘It’s not like she’s really watching you, not minute by minute and bugging your phone and all that guff,’ Jinx said. ‘She’s just trying to frighten you.’
And Jinx was right, of course. Although, to be perfectly honest, Alice wouldn’t put anything past that dognapper now.
Massoud didn’t say anything when she finished the call, even though he’d looked more and more concerned as the conversation had gone on. Instead, he turned off the A40 and drove past the services and stopped at a roadside café at the edge of a village.
‘We need tea for this,’ he said, pulling into the car park.
‘But we don’t have time.’
‘Fifteen minutes won’t make a difference.’
Inside, he ordered Alice a full English breakfast and a pot of tea. In the corner booth, he leant across the table, pushing the condiments and silver napkin dispenser to one side and took Alice’s hands gently in his.
‘Tell me all about it,’ he said. ‘I vow to you, Miss Beeton, it will go no further than here.’
So she did. Holding nothing back. When her food arrived she ate it so quickly she could barely believe it herself. But she was ravenous. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a decent square meal, she’d been that stressed.
In a soothing tone, Massoud told her that, in spite of Gerda’s behaviour regarding Agatha, she was more than likely only doing her job, albeit with grim efficiency. He also suggested that having Agatha out of the Messents’ home was no bad thing. Surely, anyone there who might end up wishing Alice harm, could also then use her beloved pet against her? The fact that a professional like Gerda also clearly believed that Alice was her best chance of getting the vital information she needed should give Alice confidence too, Massoud said. In his own former career, which he did not wish to get into now, he’d only ever worked with assets he’d thought were up to scratch.
‘Gosh, an asset,’ Alice said. ‘Is that what I am now?’
‘Quite so. Your strictly amateur days are now done,’ Massoud said, grinning, before looking suddenly serious again. ‘You just have to hold the line and see the job through. And then Agatha will be returned, the murder will be solved, and your business will be safe.’
‘Just a tiddly wish list then,’ she said, nonetheless managing a smile for the first time today.
‘Yes, but wishes can and do come true,’ said Massoud. ‘It just takes a lot of bloody work, that’s all.’
And he was right, of course. Alice finished her cup of tea. She would get through this. She had to.
‘You’re not alone, Alice,’ Massoud said. ‘Remember that. And the second you do feel in any danger, you get the hell out and you call me. Understood?’
Alice nodded and grasped his hands. She’d never been so much in need of a friend. It felt so good hearing him call her Alice.
‘Very well then,’ she said, feeling much more positively charged. ‘Then let’s get back to today’s business. Audley Manor. On the double.’
Massoud nodded. ‘I’ll make up time, don’t worry. What’s at Audley?’
‘More … shenanigans, I suspect,’ Alice said. ‘I’ll tell you all about it on the way.’ She waved for the bill. ‘Oh, and there’s something else I need you to do too,’ she said, passing him the small phone she’d found in the staffloo. ‘Do you think you could get that clever grandson of yours to see if he can open it? I found it hidden at the Messents’.’
‘Of course. I’ll get Wisam on it right away. He’ll make sure “Find My Phone” is off too. So anyone looking for it won’t see where we are.’
‘Is that really a thing?’
‘Yes, it really is.’ Massoud laughed. ‘You’ve got a lot to learn if you’re going to be a detective for real.’
‘Oh, Massoud, I know, I know.’ Alice sighed. ‘In fact, I don’t know, but that’s the whole point … if this whole adventure has proved anything, it’s that I don’t know anything at all.’
‘Not yet, Alice,’ Massoud chuckled, pushing his hand back through his dark, curly hair. ‘Not yet.’
Yes, Alice thought. He’s right. Not yet.
But I will.