False Picture by Veronica Heley Read Free Book Online Page B

ex-husband – really one couldn’t blame him for telling her to get lost – and her employer who’d given her a room in her house, and was recently bereaved and really ought to take a holiday, and was thinking about going to Bruges, and had anyone else been to Bruges and what was it like … and on … and on …
    That voice of hers could be heard all over the flat. She was almost as bad as Charlotte, who fluttered and squawked. Really, Charlotte was just like a hen when she got into a flap. But easy meat. Liam had hardly had to exert himself to have her eating out of his hand. The new girl had fallen for Zander. Hm, well, Zander had carried stolen goods around for Rafael twice already, even if he didn’t know it. Rafael’s lips twitched into a thin smile. Zander would play ball, if needed.
    The big problem was Philip. He hadn’t returned, he hadn’t been back to the club, or the gym. It was irritating that Philip had chosen to disappear with the picture. What’s more, if Philip got drunk – as he often did – and talked about the low price Rafael had offered him for the Millais, questions might be asked. Silence was golden, right? Dead silence.
    As for getting the goods away, Charlotte had put the idea into his head, and the more he thought about it, the better it looked. The dear little squawker had seized on the idea of a few days’ holiday in Bruges, and Bruges wasn’t so far from Amsterdam, was it? As a tourist she could take the gold boxes out with her and his contact could easily connect up with her in Bruges. Charlotte would be the perfect mule.
    There was a lot of pressure to get the miniatures out as well. He decided to get Zander to work on the Maggie bird, too.

Four
    Saturday morning
    I t seemed strange and rather wonderful to wake up to a silent house. Bea stretched out in bed, enjoying those last few moments of peace and quiet. She usually woke to the sound of Maggie turning on the television and radio downstairs. Dead on half past seven, Maggie would clump in with a cup of tea and draw the curtains back. It was amazing how some people could make so much noise, just by drawing the curtains back. This morning, there was nothing but silence.
    No cup of tea, either. And nobody to make breakfast for them. Oliver wouldn’t. Oliver couldn’t.
    It might be a good idea for Maggie to give Oliver some lessons in looking after himself, basic cookery for bachelors, that sort of thing.
    Bea got herself dressed and went downstairs to find Oliver in the kitchen, looking lost even though his box of muesli was staring him in the face on the worktop. Bea passed him bowls, plates, mugs, and milk. She put on the kettle, made toast, asked if he wanted anything cooked and realized she was acting just as Maggie did.
    Oliver got outside his plate of cereal in record time. ‘I’ve applied to join the gym. It’s good there, lots of help given to first-timers. They’ll give me a regime to start on and I can also use the pool, have a juice or a snack afterwards. I paid on my credit card and they didn’t need references. I said Philip Weston had told me about the place, that I’d met him in a pub. I’d hoped Philip would be there, but he wasn’t. They said he hadn’t been around for a while.’
    â€˜Do you mean that he hasn’t been around since the burglary?’
    â€˜I don’t know. I couldn’t get a look at their records last night, but they do keep track of who comes and when, so it shouldn’t be impossible for me to suss that out. Then an old schoolfriend was just coming out as I was leaving. I thought he might have known Philip, but lots of people use that gym and my friend couldn’t be sure whether he knew him or not. I must take a copy of Philip’s photo with me when I see him again.’
    Oliver had had one good friend at school but had lost touch when he left home; correction, when he was kicked