And now he was in England, and the repayment to the man and his thugs could not be avoided. He knew being here was a risk, but his father’s death had been providence from heaven. A chance for the miserable old skinflint of a father to pay for all the suffering he had caused him, and as for the others, his son, his sister and her husband, what did they matter. Once the gangsters had been paid off, he was going straight, straight from Heathrow and back out to where it was warm, to purchase himself a good house, a good car, and find himself a willing woman. Ralph Lawrence was not a vain man; he knew that he had the gift of the gab, and this time, he would not need to pretend with the woman. This time he would be rich.
***
Molly Dempster, for the first time in her adult life, found herself without a routine. She did not like it, having been used to her twice-weekly visits to the Lawrence mansion. She did not know why she had been invited to the office of Leonard Dundas on the following day. She knew it had to be important, but she had never asked for anything from her employers and had never once been tempted to take anything from the house: not a bar of soap, nor washing up liquid, nor even some money occasionally. All that she purchased for the home she accounted for in her neat and meticulous handwriting. She felt great sorrow for the man who had died, even sadness for a woman who had died decades before. She could only imagine the anguish that her husband must have gone through. If she had known, she would have made an effort to soothe the man.
Caroline, she knew, was a compassionate woman. She’d ask her tomorrow at Dundas’s for three months to move out of the house that Gilbert Lawrence had let her live in. She had saved some money and could afford to pay the rent for a while. After that, she could live with her sister, though she didn’t want to. Molly knew that as much as she loved her sister, the woman could drive her mad with her untidiness, her need to smoke in the house. Gilbert’s death had signalled to Molly the closing of her life, and all she could do was resign herself to the inevitable. She sat down again on the kitchen chair and shed a tear, not only for Gilbert and Dorothy but for herself.
Chapter 6
An auspicious occasion, the reading of the last will and testament of Gilbert Aloysius Lawrence: recluse, property magnate.
Isaac knew that the accolade of philanthropist would not be used in any obituary, not even at the man’s funeral, as he had never given much to anyone outside of his family, and only to charity when it came with a sizeable reduction in tax.
Bridget, in the office, had checked back for any press cuttings in the last thirty years and had found very little. The name of Lawrence had appeared in the financial sections of the newspapers from time to time, but apart from that, there was not much of interest.
Ralph Lawrence had more column inches devoted to him, due to his behaviour in his teens, starting with drunken and loutish and culminating in appearing in court on a charge of passing fake cheques.
As Bridget had said to Isaac, the man’s a habitual conman, no perceivable morals, good or bad, a rotten egg as her father would have said. All that could be found about Caroline Dickson, née Lawrence, were the details of her wedding, as well as a photo.
Isaac sat in the reception area of Leonard Dundas’s office; he was early. The young woman at reception had given him a coffee and a magazine to read, although those coming in through the door were of more interest. Jill Dundas, Leonard’s daughter, came over and introduced herself. Isaac found her to be polite, but not friendly, purely professional. He judged her to be in her forties. She was wearing a dark blue jacket with matching trousers, a white blouse. If her look was anything to go by, she was a worthy person to take over from her father, Leonard, who had come into the office looking tired, more so than the first time Isaac had met him.
‘It’s a nightmare,’ Leonard Dundas said. ‘When Gilbert was alive, he kept his finger on the pulse. But now, his death has left a lot of people anxious.’
‘What sort of people?’
‘Tenants, lending institutions, overseas banks.’
‘Why? Surely everything is secured.’
‘Secured, yes, but people are people, they panic. And besides, what’s to worry about? Gilbert was solvent, and no lease agreements have been impacted.’
‘Was Lawrence still buying?’
‘He never stopped.’
‘New instructions?’
‘It depends who inherits.’
‘Ralph gave us the slip at Heathrow. We’re trying to find him and his son,’ Isaac said.
Caroline Dickson entered the office, nodded at Isaac. Her husband accompanied her, as did Emma, Gilbert’s sister. Molly Dempster came in looking a little unsure of the surroundings. The receptionist gave her a cup of tea, and showed her where to go, and ensured she was seated comfortably. Isaac could see through the open door that Caroline gave the housekeeper a brief hug.
The door to where Dundas was to read the will closed soon after. Isaac strained to listen but could hear nothing. A man walked into the solicitor’s office. He was puffing, and he looked as though he had had a rough night. Isaac knew that he was face-to-face with Ralph Lawrence.
‘Where’s the meeting?’ Ralph said to the receptionist.
‘Your name?’
‘Ralph Lawrence. Sorry for being late, traffic.’
‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Cook,’ Isaac said, standing up to introduce himself. ‘We missed you at Heathrow.’
‘You didn’t
