Chance-met Stranger Read online

  'He shouldn't be allowed to get away with it!'

  'He won't, don't worry. There are other ways of making him sorry for attacking me.'

  Janie glanced up at him. His tone was grim, and she shivered. She would not like to get on the wrong side of him, she thought suddenly. He looked and sounded dangerous.

  At the solicitor's office they were asked to wait, and then a junior clerk came out to usher them into a small anteroom.

  'Mr Simpson is with a client, but he said to show you this when you came in, and to ask if you know either of the witnesses.'

  She handed over a thin folder, and Janie opened it to find a photocopy of a simple will form, the kind that could be bought in stationery shops. She read the short document, a will dated just a few days before Aunt Jane died, leaving all her possessions to Brian Cook.

  'Is this legal?' she asked the clerk.

  'It could be. It's simple, but it would be accepted, if it is properly signed and witnessed, and isn't forged.'

  Janie looked at the signatures. They were difficult to read, but eventually she made them out.

  'One looks like Frank Jones – he used to do the garden for Aunt Jane, but he died last year.'

  'So we can't ask him about it,' the clerk said. 'What about the other one? Do you know who that is?'

  'I'm not sure. It's such untidy writing. It looks like Teresa Henny, but I don't know anyone of that name.'

  'Let me see,' Manuel said, and took the paper from Janie. 'It's Kemp, not Henny.'

  'Are you sure? Aunt Jane's neighbour? But I don't understand! If she knew Aunt Jane had left everything to Brian, why didn't she say something when I moved into the cottage?'

  'She need not have known. The wording could have been covered so that the witnesses couldn't read it,' the clerk explained. 'All they have to do is sign that they witnessed the signature of the person making the will.'

  'I see.'

  'So we can ask her. I understand both properties were demolished, so she will have moved too?'

  'And I don't have her new address,' Janie said. 'Can you find out? She'd have arranged for her mail to be redirected, so maybe the post office will tell you.'

  'That's no problem. But if the will and the signatures were forged it was likely they'd choose people who couldn't contradict it. But not clever enough. There are ways we can check up.'

  Janie suddenly clapped her hand to her head. 'I'm more exhausted than I thought! Manuel, you'd know the new address, you helped to move Mrs Kemp's furniture.'

  'That's not necessary. This is nothing like Teresa Kemp's signature,' Manuel said quietly. 'Her writing is much bigger, flamboyant.'

  'How do you know? Did you see it on a letter to your removal company?' Janie asked.

  For a moment she had wondered whether the will was genuine, and she had to give up the chance of disputing it, but his words gave her a glimmer of hope. He would not make such a claim if he did not feel certain.

  'You know the lady? And where she is? Good. Then we can ask her if she signed this, and to give us a sample of her handwriting,' the clerk said. 'That should make it a simple matter, fortunately. How certain are you that it is not her signature?'

  'Because I know her writing extremely well. You see, Teresa Kemp is my aunt.'

  ***

  Chapter 6

  'Your aunt?' Janie stared at Manuel, her thoughts in a whirl. 'Then you aren't – you can't be, a furniture removal man!'

  'Well, no, I'm not.'

  'And you let me think – how could you!'

  His lips twitched. 'It seemed simpler – '

  'Simpler!' Janie almost exploded. Her thoughts were chaotic. How had she become entangled in this?

  The clerk coughed. 'Miss Tempest, if I could have Mrs Kemp's address, and perhaps her telephone number, I can get on with making enquiries about this will, whether she knew anything about it.'

  Janie turned back to the important matter. At least it looked as though Brian was mistaken, if not worse, about the will, and her inheritance was safe. 'Oh, I'm sorry. Manuel? I don't know Mrs Kemp – your aunt's – address.'

  He took out a pen and wrote the address and telephone number down on a sheet of paper the clerk handed to him. The girl thanked him gravely.

  'We'll be in touch, Miss Tempest, but it seems as though you don't have to worry any more.'

  Janie muttered something. She was still too stunned by Manuel's revelations that she was incapable of further speech.

  He took her arm and guided her out, then into a tea room opposite. After ordering tea and cakes he turned back to Janie, grinning.

  'You look as though I'm a ghost, something you can't believe in.'

  'Why?' she asked.

  'Why did I not tell you at the time?' He laughed. 'Aunt Teresa did her best, if you recall, but I prevented her. If you'd known, would you have let us help you move the furniture?'

  Janie shook her head, and laughed. 'No. I'd have been far too embarrassed! Mrs Kemp intimidated me enough, I'd never have dared ask her nephew for a favour. I'm even more in debt to you both now.'

  'She's not so bad under that tough surface. We were helping with her last minute things. The van belongs to Tim, he's an antique dealer, which is why he knew the value of your carpet. He's had it cleaned, by the way, and it's in an auction next week.'

  'So if you are not a furniture remover, what are you? An antique dealer as well?'

  'No. Tim and I were at college together in the States. My family own hotels, and I came to Europe to negotiate for some sites here. I rented a flat here because it was near Aunt Teresa. She's my father's only sister.'

  Janie could barely take it in. She'd thought Manuel was an ordinary working man, and it seemed he came from a wealthy family who owned hotels all over the world. She forced herself to say something.

  'She never mentioned she had relatives in Mexico. But then, we hardly knew one another.'

  'So she told me. She's kind-hearted, but rather a stickler for some of the old-fashioned conventions, like never speaking to anyone unless you've been properly introduced. Or wandering round outside in the cold dressed only in a bathrobe!' he added, grinning.

  He had a most attractive grin. Janie found it infectious.

  'I'm afraid I scandalised her quite a few times in the two years I lived there,' she said ruefully.

  'Don't worry. There are more important things to worry about right now. Like what's going to happen about Liz's accident. She hasn't heard from the police?'

  'Not yet, but there's still time.'

  'I think perhaps, if you'll let me, I should go and talk to someone at the Bristol police station. I haven't much time left in England. I have to be in Spain by the end of the month, looking at possible locations there. So let's hope we've sorted out Liz and her problems by then.'

  Janie suddenly felt bereft. She was still bemused by the fact that she'd been so horribly mistaken, embarrassed at how she'd made assumptions, grateful that he hadn't disillusioned and disconcerted her at the time, and that he and Tim had helped her with the move. He'd also been a tower of strength coping with Liz's problems, and probably saved time exposing Brian's attempt with the false will for what it was. Her most intense emotion, though, was a sharp stab of disappointment that Manuel would so soon be gone.

  She told herself not to be stupid. What did he see in her? They'd met by accident, he'd just been kind, and was probably aching to get away from what must, to him, seem like trivial disputes. Yet here he was proposing to involve himself further.

  'Would they talk to you?' she asked doubtfully.

  'I think so.' He sounded so confident, and Janie was certain he'd talk his way in somehow, to the top man if necessary.

  'I'll go tomorrow. Meanwhile, make sure Liz is more careful. We don't know if Terry is still looking for her. She opened the door to me this afternoon without the chain on, or asking me who I was.'

  'She's an idiot! Manuel, why are you being so kind, helping us?'

  'I have my own quarr
el with Terry, remember, since he saw fit to vandalise my car. I want to see him punished, and make sure he won't try to take it out on you or Liz.'

  He refused her invitation to stay for supper, which was perhaps as well, Janie reflected later, when she sat down to scarcely warm baked beans on toast which had been burnt and then had the black scraped off. If she complained, she knew, Liz would refuse to do it again, and it wasn't worth the hassle. She'd make sure she had a decent meal in the hospital canteen in future.

  Afterwards, she tackled Liz about security again.

  'You opened the door straight away to Manuel,' she reminded her.

  'Yes, but I was expecting him, and I was peeping out of the window. Don't get excited, I was being careful not to be seen. I saw him coming along the road, so I knew who it was. I wouldn't be so daft as to open it if I didn't know who was there. I wouldn't even go to it,' she added virtuously. 'And I can hear who it is on the phone if I leave the answerphone on, and only pick it up if it's Rosa or someone I can trust.'

  'Can you trust any of your other friends? Do they know Terry? More importantly, does he know them? Could he be trying to find out where you are through any of them?'

  'I don't think he knows anyone apart from Rosa. I only met him a few weeks ago.'

  'Who else was at this party? Any of your friends?'

  'Not really. A girl who was in the office where I worked before Christmas invited me, but I haven't seen her since, and she didn't know any of my friends.'

  'So what do you know about him, or his friends?'

  'I've only met Mike, who shares his flat. Oh, and a couple of others there one night, but I don't know their names. Actually, I think they might have had the flat upstairs.'

  Janie left it at that, for she was really tired and had to be up by five. Liz was quieter tonight and did not disturb her, so she was able to sleep well. At the hospital they were short staffed, and she stayed late, so it was early evening before she reached home.

  The flat was in darkness, and Janie opened the door as quietly as she could, her heart thumping painfully. Was Liz asleep? Had she gone out? Or had something dreadful happened?

  Nothing seemed to be disturbed, and she soon found Liz in the bedroom, lying on the bed watching television.

  'Sorry I'm so late. I didn't even have chance to phone. How have things been? Any more news?'

  'The police phoned this afternoon,' Liz said quietly. 'I don't know if it's good news or bad. But they were rather miffed at me.'

  'Why?'

  'The car has disappeared. They wanted to check it for defects, they said. But it isn't at Mike's place now. He told them he'd sold it for scrap.'

  Janie groaned. 'That was stupid of him! More than stupid, it was criminal.'

  'They'll suspect me of trying to cover something up,' Liz said. 'Janie, what can I do?'

  'They'll be more likely to charge both you and Mike for obstruction!'

  'But I didn't mean to! I was trying to get the car cleared off a busy road! I'd have been obstructing them if I'd just run away and left it there!'

  'OK, calm down. Has Manuel rung?'

  'No. I expect he's fed up with both of us.'

  That would not surprise Janie, but she wanted to know if he'd talked to the police, and whether he'd had any luck.

  She insisted on cooking supper, despite her tiredness, and was just about to fall into bed when the phone rang. It was Manuel.

  'Hi there, how are you?'

  Janie passed on what Liz had told her. 'Did you discover anything?'

  'Nothing more, but they've promised to keep me informed, when I stressed the damage Terry did to my car, and mentioned one or two cousins who happen to work in the Embassy.'

  Janie laughed. 'You are full of surprises, and have some very useful relatives!'

  'I spoke to Aunt Teresa, and she never signed any will, and said she could testify that your Aunt Jane always spoke about you as her heir, right up to her last few days. She never had any time for Brian, my aunt said. I think you have heard the last of that.'

  'That's a relief. So if Liz's exploits don't cost me too much I might be able to afford a house of sorts after all.'

  'You know my opinion about helping your feckless sister. Let her sort out her own problems, or she will never grow up, become responsible.'

  'If I don't help her, no one will!' Janie snapped, her good humour vanishing. 'I've been fortunate.'

  'And you feel guilty about it. You shouldn't. You've also worked hard to train for a good profession. But let's not argue. Do you feel fit enough to have dinner tomorrow night? We could make it early to fit in with your shift, so that you are not too late back to bed.'

  'I'd love to,' Janie said. Apart from wanting to see Manuel again, it would be a relief to spend an evening without having to pander to Liz's anxieties. Perhaps she ought to become hard, as he advised. But she knew she couldn't. She'd been Liz's prop for too many years, ever since her little sister, bewildered and homesick, had joined her at their English boarding school while their parents had to live abroad wherever her father's work took them.

  He called for her at six and they walked to the same Italian restaurant as before. The head waiter greeted her as though she was an old friend, and Janie relaxed and enjoyed the evening.

  Liz was not mentioned until they were drinking coffee. Instead he told her about his childhood spent in Mexico, visits to England, college in America, and travels all over the world on business since then. He encouraged her to talk about her parents and her own schooldays.

  'They live in Malta, now, I think you said.'

  'Yes. Though he was well paid, my father made some unfortunate investments and lost all his savings. They have just his pension. They couldn't buy a house here when he retired, and after so many years in hot climates my mother couldn't face the English winters anyway. They had a holiday home in Malta, so they live there. I usually manage to go and see them once a year.'

  'And Aunt Jane provided a home for you in England?'

  'In the short holidays, when it wasn't sensible to fly out for just a few days. She was my godmother.'

  'Not Liz's?'

  'No. My mother's sister was Liz's godmother, and we sometimes stayed with her, but unfortunately she died when Liz was sixteen. That's another reason I've felt sorry for her. She adored Aunt Sarah.'

  Too soon it was time for Janie to go home.

  'I'll never get up early if I don't get to bed soon,' she said regretfully. 'Thank you for a lovely evening.'

  'My pleasure.'

  The rest of the week passed without any further news, either from the police or Manuel. Janie was too weary to care. The settee was proving unsatisfactory as a permanent bed, and when Liz began to hint that she wanted to go back to Bristol, Janie was tempted to agree. Then she told herself not to be silly. A few more days, and surely they would know what was happening, and whether Terry was intending to take any more revenge.

  On Saturday, when Janie was luxuriating in a long lie in bed, the doorbell rang with startling urgency.

  Liz appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, looking nervous.

  'Who is it?'

  'Go back in there, and I'll go and see,' Janie ordered, struggling into her bathrobe.

  It was a police constable, and after inspecting his identification, she let him in.

  'Do you want to speak with my sister?' she asked.

  'Please.'

  Liz emerged and sat down on the edge of the settee, sweeping the duvet and pillows onto the floor.

  'Miss Tempest, did you know that the car you were driving when you had the accident was stolen?' he asked.

  Janie gasped. Liz looked startled.

  'No, of course I didn't! Who stole it?'

  'The man you borrowed it from, Terry Hughes. The information you gave us about his friend Mike enabled us to find him just as he was about to put the car through a compacter. We assume he was intending to destroy the evidence, anticipating that we would want to examine the car. Apparently
the two of them had quite a nice little set up. Your friend Terry stole the cars, Mike made changes, new plates, respray a different colour, new documents, and selling on to unsuspecting customers.'

  Liz was incapable of speech.

  Janie spoke for them both. 'So how does this leave my sister?'

  'You knew nothing about this?'

  'I've only known Terry a few weeks! He said he was a mechanic, but he didn't say where he worked.'

  The constable, a man in his forties, nodded. 'Can you prove that you'd only known him a short while?'

  'Rosa could confirm it?' Janie asked, and Liz nodded.

  'My flatmate. She'll be able to tell you when I met him.'

  He took down further details, then asked if he might use their phone to call Rosa at the flat. After some questions he seemed satisfied, and rose to his feet.

  'I think that will be all for now, thank you, Miss.'

  'What's going to happen to me?' Liz asked in a small voice.

  'That's not up to me, Miss, but I don't think you need to worry too much. It's a nice little nest of villains we're going to be dealing with, thanks to your accident.'

  ***

  Chapter 7

  Janie was on the late shift, which meant she did not reach home until after midnight most nights. Liz fretted, complaining that she would be quite safe if she went out during the daytime, and she didn't see why she could not go home, since Terry and Mike were by now probably in prison. Manuel neither came nor phoned.

  Janie's emotions were a crazy mixture of relief and anxiety. Liz would probably not be charged, Brian's silly attempt to forge a will benefitting himself had been exposed, and she could begin, with some confidence, to look around for a house to buy.

  It was partly to escape Liz's constant complaints that Janie went into Bath earlier than she needed every morning, trawling round estate agents collecting house details, and occasionally viewing a house. She admitted to herself, however, that she needed to keep occupied to push thoughts of Manuel to the back of her mind.

  It was over, now. He had been kind, but had probably found it an irritating business, keeping guard on two women he hadn't even known before the day he helped her to move. She liked him, more than liked him, but she had no hope of interesting a man who came from a wealthy background, travelled the world on business, and was so indecently handsome every woman who met him probably found herself in the same state of hopeless longing.