‘Good. What can I do for you?’
‘Erm … I’m afraid that I wasn’t totally forthcoming with you when we had our … conversation.’
Finally, thought Trelawney. I knew he was hiding something.
‘The day before you … before we talked, a new member of my staff — the domestic staff, that is — was standing in for one of the regular cleaning team, so my house was unfamiliar to her, you see …’
‘Yes?’
‘She needed some equipment from the cupboard under the stairs and wasn’t used to the position of the light switch. Feeling around for it, she found a tiny packet taped to the underside of the socket. I was around, so she gave it to me.’
He took a breath.
‘Please do go on, Mr Gibbs.’
‘It was a sim card, for Sam’s phone. I had a brief look, and I could see there were photos of computer screens and some of documents. I didn’t have time to check further, and I wasn’t sure … It could have been things she’d seen in my office that she’d misunderstood … so I didn’t mention it. Since then, I’ve had time to go over the photos carefully.’
He handed a small clear plastic packet over to the inspector.
‘The shots are of her grandfather’s and mother’s computer screens and documents she must have found in their studies; emails, accounts and so forth.’
‘Proof that Loftleigh was insider trading?’
‘I believe so, Inspector. I don’t know if it’s enough to secure a conviction but … for what it’s worth.’
‘Thank you, Mr Gibbs.’
‘I hope it does the trick.’
‘It sounds promising. It could be just what the Fraud squad needs. Well done.’
There was a pause. Damian looked out of the window and blinked hard.
‘My Sam. She didn’t let me down, after all.’ Amanda covertly blew her nose. Gibbs turned back to the inspector, ‘Will you let me know? If it’s of value?’
‘Of course. I’ll get this into the right hands immediately.’
‘Thank you. And thank you again, Inspector. You’ll always be welcome at the Centre, my home or any of my offices, and Amanda too.’
‘Thank you, Mr Gibbs,’ replied Trelawney gravely.
‘Damian.’
Gibbs left with a considerably lightened air and a wave to Amanda and the inspector. Trelawney called Nikolaides, and soon she appeared, meeting them in the carpark.
‘Sir?’
‘I’ve got a mission for you.’ She brightened. ‘I want you to drive over to Fraud. Make sure you give this into the hands of Felicity Farish personally. About your mother’s age, petite, dark hair, green eyes, intense thoughtful expression. You can’t miss her. Into her hands and no others, understand?’
‘Understood, sir.’
‘I’ll make sure she’s expecting you. Go straight there, no stopping to pick flowers along the way.’
‘Or talking to strangers. Yes, Mother, sir’ she replied with a gleam.
‘Go to it, DC Little-red-riding-hood.’ He grinned, and she departed post-haste.
***
It was not long before Trelawney received the news that, together with the evidence the police already had on Loftleigh, Samantha’s contribution would certainly be enough to bring him to justice. Loftus Loftleigh was, in vulgar parlance, ‘goin’ down’.
Veronica was also unquestionably complicit. It looked as though she would be downsizing, to a cell in Holloway prison. However, preferring to avoid the humiliation and privations of this lifestyle, surrounded by luxury, she chose instead to imbibe a cocktail of lethal substances, from which she slipped into slumber and thence to oblivion. And so ended the distaff side of a once noble house.
Loftleigh, by dint of feigning a heart attack and claiming he had only days to live, had persuaded his former son-in-law to accede to a request regarding Samantha’s memorial.
Consequently, Damian made a compassionate concession to Loftus and Veronica, considering that without their conniving, he would never have become father to, and enjoyed what time he had had with, the little Samantha. Damian had accordingly arranged that a third line be included on his daughter headstone:
Here lies Samantha Veronica Gibbs
Beloved daughter
Last of the Loftleighs
Those who have transitioned to another level, Granny and Grandpa had explained to Amanda, rarely visit the places where their physical remains are interred.
‘On account of such locations,’ expounded Granny, ‘tending to be depressing venues, frequented by rather gloomy persons. And there is so much and see and do here, it’s really not a popular pastime.’
Consequently, it came to pass that Samantha, accompanied by her grandmother Marion Gibbs — no longer addicted to spirits of the corporeal kind but still partial to the odd glass of good Chablis and a lively party — came but once to inspect her tombstone. Kneeling on the grass, reading down the marble slab, suddenly Sam threw back her head and laughed with delight.
‘Oh Dad, gotta love you! Look, Grandma!’
For there, at the end, appended at her father’s insistence, beneath Last of the Loftleighs, he had had written:
Gone shopping.
Chapter 59
Serious Witchcraft, A Gift from Below, and New Questions
In the workshop, tidying up for the week ahead, Amanda found herself now and then breaking into song, even dance.
‘Very nice, bian.’
‘Oh Grandpa, I didn’t see you there.’
‘That’s because I wasn’t. We just arrived.’
‘Good morning, Granny.’
‘Yes, dear, indeed it is. Just the morning to broach a particular matter.’
Amanda put down the chisel she was cleaning and leaned back against her workbench.
‘Oh?’
‘Your grandfather and I feel that, now you have this new mode of employment, it’s time you started taking your witchcraft seriously.’
Amanda, dumbstruck at first, almost imploded with the effort of restraining her indignation.
‘What? Granny! What do you think I’ve been doing until now?’
‘Barely scratching the surface, I’d say,’ replied Senara breezily.
‘Huh?’ was all Amanda could manage in reply.
‘Now then, bian, calm down. What your granny is trying to say is that you have skills you’ve yet to explore that could be very valuable to you in your … on your road ahead.’
‘What? This is in addition to improving my ability to
