far as they're concerned,' she went on more steadily, 'his only capital assets are a few stocks and shares, when in fact he has the cottage in Brittany, a house in London, which he rents out to anyone who can afford it, and a condominium in Florida. There could be a great deal more, for all I know. Those are the three he told me about.'
'Do you know the address of the London house?'
They'd had a row ... Anthony and Philippa had been there ... I want to marry Meg ... Meg's a whore ... She flicked her gaze back to Maddocks's face. 'Only that it's in Chelsea somewhere,' she said, licking her lips nervously. 'His solicitor could tell you. His name's Maurice Bloom and he has an office somewhere off Fleet Street. I'm sure you can find him through the Law Society.'
Maddocks checked to see that Fraser had taken down the name. 'Is there a good reason why he doesn't want his parents to know about his properties?' he asked her.
She thought about that. ' 'It depends on your definition of good. Yes, he has a reason, and personally, I think it stinks, but it makes sense to Leo.' She paused. 'I can't really tell you what it is without sounding bitter.'
'I think we need to know,' said the Inspector.
Did they? She was finding it hard to concentrate. I said goodbye to Leo at breakfast ... we're getting married on the second of July... 'They're a type, not Philippa so much perhaps, but Anthony and Leo certainly.' Her voice sounded strangely remote again. 'You never pay for anything if you can get someone else to pay for you, you use other people's expertise to help you up the ladder, and you plead poverty all the time while making snide remarks about how wealthy everyone else is. It becomes very wearing very quickly for the person who's being bled, particularly when you know that the parasite you're supporting is rolling in it.' Was she mad? These were the last people who should be hearing her confession. Talk to the doctor... he wants your stay here to be comfortable ... it's a free choice...
Maddocks watched her eyes grow huge in a face made tiny by her lack of hair. He felt the pull of their attraction even while he was thinking: Got you, you murdering bitch. You really hated the poor bastard. 'And Leo did this to you?' he asked gently.
'Not immediately. He wasn't so crass. Actually, he was quite generous at the beginning. It was only when he moved into Glenavon Gardens that I realized what I'd saddled myself with.' She took deep breaths.
'There's no hurry, Miss Kingsley. Take your time.'
Memories of Russell's murder flooded her mind. Take your time ... there's no hurry ... We know your father hated him enough to kill him ... we know your father's a psychopath... 'He's a believer in the what's-yours-is-mine principle,' she said in a rush to drown out the voices in her head, 'but without the reciprocity. He was just as secretive with me as he was with his parents. I only found out about his properties when Maurice Bloom phoned him at my house one day, and it was clear from his end of the conversation that he owned something in Florida. I was angry enough to make him tell me about it, because he had given me the impression he was in financial difficulties.' So much so, that, like Fergus, he had borrowed money from her handbag. God, she remembered now. It was the meanness that had finally got to her, the tax dodges, the obsessive secrecy surrounding his bank and credit card statements, the me-me-me of his lifestyle.
'What sort of job did he have?'
She noted the past tense but let it pass. 'He called himself a stockbroker but, as he never mentioned clients by name, I guessed he was playing the markets for himself.'
'Did he go out to work each day?'
He certainly went somewhere each day. 'He spends his time in the City.' I want to marry Meg... 'Keeping his finger on the pulse, as he calls it.'
'What sort of financial difficulties did he say he was in?'
'He said he'd lost everything on some bad investments but I think he was lying. He was always complaining about how badly off he was compared with me. He used to do the same with his father.'
'Yet you said his father's the same.'
She had let rip the day she decided to end it, told them all what she thought of them, called them overprivileged leeches whose only claim to respectability was that one of their ancestors had had the brains and the balls to earn a title. 'Anthony's certainly very mean. He never pays bills until the final demand arrives, in the hopes the business may have gone under before he has to write the check.'
'If I understood you right, Miss Kingsley, you're saying Leo touches his father for money.'
She nodded but didn't say anything. God, but they'd hated her for it. And triumphant Leo had told her he'd been having an affair with Meg, and that she was the one he wanted to marry. And the shock had been ENORMOUS! She remembered it all. Anthony's loathing: 'You're the daughter of a barrow boy ... we never wanted you in this family...' Philippa's distress: 'Do stop ... do stop ... words can't be taken back...' Leo's sulk ... 'I want to marry Meg ... I want to marry Meg...'
'Which is why he's never told him about these properties he owns?' Maddocks suggested. 'He doesn't want his father to know what he's actually worth.'
She nodded again. 'He was-is,' she corrected herself, 'obsessive about money. They both are.' She called her thoughts back from the past. 'One thing I can absolutely guarantee is that Leo would have his credit cards stopped the minute he realized they were stolen. And he certainly wouldn't leave for France without them.'
'So what are you saying?'
I'm saying Leo's dead. A picture flashed out of nowhere into her tired brain. A lightning image, sharply defined, but so brief that it was gone again before she could register what it was. Meg's a whore ... Meg's a whore ... Too many secrets ... deja vu ... this has happened before... 'God,' she said, pressing a bruised hand to her chest, 'I thought-just for a moment, I thought-' She looked blankly at Maddocks. 'What did you ask me?'
He hadn't missed the flicker of astonishment that swept across her face. 'I was wondering what conclusions you've drawn from the fact that Leo hasn't had his cards stopped.'
She pressed trembling fingers to her forehead. 'I feel awful,' she said abruptly. 'I think I'm going to be sick.'
