False Relation (An Abbot Agency Mystery Book 19)

CHAPTER ONE

It was raining. Again. But to Bea Abbot, a good day was not dependent upon the weather. It was one in which clients were reasonable, the computers behaved, the members of her staff at the domestic agency turned up on time and her husband, that well-known portrait painter, was able to take his mind off his work long enough to reply when asked if they should eat in or out that evening.

For some reason, Fridays were usually trouble-free until ...

Bea's smartphone warbled in the middle of a busy morning at the office. After the usual enquiries of her welfare, her good friend Julian said, 'Is Rosemary available?' That was enough to make Bea pay attention, fast.

Rosemary was a blue-eyed blonde who looked as if butter wouldn't melt, but who worked as a personal protection agent. Rosemary could toss a knife-wielding assailant to the ground and step away with his knife in her hand. She'd helped Bea and Julian out of several nasty situations in the past.

Bea said, 'What's happened? Are Polly and the children all right?'

'Shaken but not stirred.'

'Julian!'

'They're all right. You know I like to laugh at things if I can. Do you know where Rosemary is now?'

'On holiday in California, I think. Give me a reason to yank her back.'

Julian tried for a laugh, and didn't make it. 'Forget I asked. I'm panicking without good reason. We've had another outbreak of vandalism in the village but the police are stationed in the nearest town and aren't interested. I thought that if Rosemary were at a loose end it might amuse her to hear about it. As for what's happened to my cousin Mona, well, I tell myself I don't need to get involved in that.'

'Julian, you don't panic easily. What exactly has happened?'

He sighed. 'Look, all I ever wanted in life was to earn a decent living as an accountant and make a home for Polly and whatever children we might be fortunate to have. I looked no further than a three-bedroomed semi in Ealing and a couple of holidays abroad each year. Then the sky fell on me, and I found myself heir to a stately home which was going bankrupt, while fighting off the attentions of new-found relatives who fervently wished me dead. My uncle had emptied the bank accounts, his daughters believed I should continue to fund their lavish lifestyles, and neighbours were hostile rather than helpful.'

Bea said, 'All of which you dealt with in admirable fashion. So?'

'I'm trying to work out where my responsibilities lie and what I can ignore. Polly and I have managed to restore the fabric of the house and reopen it to the public. Ditto the failing farm shop and café. The television company are pleased with their coverage of the rebuilding of the Stables though it's by no means finished yet. Repairs are ongoing for housing to various farms and in the nearby village, but one problem has led to another.

'The natural spring in the park which is supposed to alleviate certain skin conditions is now open to the public. The villagers insist on calling it a Holy Well, and various local entrepreneurs want to make money out of it. I accept the fact that I am responsible for all of this, but not for the death of my cousin Mona by person or persons unknown. I really don't need to get involved in that, do I?'

'Your cousin Mona's dead?'

'The one who married a billionaire in haste and lived to regret it. Yes, she's dead.'

Mona and her would-be novelist sister Celine had a more-than-adequate income and been brought up with the intention of never doing a hand's turn in their lives. Celine would never win a beauty competition but Mona had been the sexiest thing on two legs, and her second or was it third? husband Marcus had made a lot of money in the city. Their union had seemed ideal until Marcus lost a series of court cases and most of his money, upon which he retired from business and Mona found herself excluded from the A-list.

Bea said, 'Mona's dead? How? Was she ill? Was it a burglary gone wrong?'