Rogue in Porcelain Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Recent Titles by Anthea Fraser

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Recent Titles by Anthea Fraser

  The Detective Chief Inspector Webb Mysteries

  (in order of appearance)

  A SHROUD FOR DELILAH

  A NECESSARY END

  PRETTY MAIDS ALL IN A ROW

  DEATH SPEAKS SOFTLY

  THE NINE BRIGHT SHINERS

  SIX PROUD WALKERS

  THE APRIL RAINERS

  SYMBOLS AT YOUR DOOR

  THE LILY-WHITE BOYS

  THREE, THREE, THE RIVALS

  THE GOSPEL MAKERS

  THE SEVEN STARS

  ONE IS ONE AND ALL ALONE

  THE TEN COMMANDMENTS

  ELEVEN THAT WENT UP TO HEAVEN *

  THE TWELVE APOSTLES *

  Other Titles

  PRESENCE OF MIND *

  THE MACBETH PROPHECY *

  BREATH OF BRIMSTONE *

  MOTIVE FOR MURDER *

  DANGEROUS DECEPTION *

  PAST SHADOWS *

  FATHERS AND DAUGHTERS *

  BROUGHT TO BOOK *

  JIGSAW *

  PERSON OR PERSONS UNKNOWN *

  A FAMILY CONCERN *

  ROGUE IN PORCELAIN *

  * available from Severn House

  ROGUE IN PORCELAIN

  Anthea Fraser

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  First world edition published in Great Britain 2007 by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of

  9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey SMI 1DF.

  First world edition published in the USA 2007 by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS INC of

  595 Madison Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10022.

  Copyright © 2007 by Anthea Fraser.

  All rights reserved.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Fraser, Anthea

  Rogue in porcelain

  1. Parish, Rona (Fictitious character) - Fiction

  2. Women authors - England - Fiction

  3. Murder investigation - Fiction

  4. Detective and mystery stories

  I. Title

  823.9'14 [F]

  ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-258-0 (ePub)

  ISBN-I3: 978-0-7278-6485-7 (cased)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-001-3 (paper)

  Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.

  This ebook produced by

  Palimpsest Book Production Limited,

  Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.

  One

  Tom Parish looked round the small, cramped dining table with satisfaction. Though he’d been renting the flat for nearly four months, this was the first time he’d managed to have all the family here. All except – obviously – his wife. Odd, he reflected, not for the first time, that despite Catherine’s central role in his life, Avril was not yet his ex, the decree absolute being two long years away. Their own decision, of course; it could have been rushed through, but at their age such haste struck him as unseemly, as would Catherine and himself living openly together before they were married. Which no doubt made him a hypocrite, since they enjoyed all the benefits of married life, despite sleeping under different roofs.

  This evening, Lindsey’s presence was a particular pleasure; his twin daughters had been equally upset by the split, but it had taken until now for Lindsey – who’d sided firmly with her mother – to bring herself to accept Catherine’s place in his life.

  Rona, his other daughter, traced a finger round the rim of her side plate. ‘I see the best china’s been brought out for the occasion!’ she said. ‘This isn’t from home, though, is it? I’ve not seen it before.’

  ‘Actually, it’s mine,’ Catherine said quietly. ‘The crockery provided is fine for everyday, but Tom felt this evening warranted something special.’

  ‘And special it certainly is,’ Lindsey commented. ‘Curzon, no less. Hugh’s parents have a dinner service in it, and they treat it like the Crown jewels.’

  There was a brief silence. These casual references to her ex-husband were becoming increasingly frequent; proof, Tom deduced worriedly, that they were meeting fairly regularly.

  ‘As it happens, I saw Charles Curzon last week,’ he remarked, to break the silence.

  ‘I didn’t realize you knew the family.’ Max, Rona’s husband, nodded acceptance as Tom held up the wine bottle.

  ‘It started professionally – they bank at the National – but Avril and I have been to several of their parties. I’d not seen Charles since I retired, and as he was in town, he rang to invite me to lunch.’ He paused. ‘Actually, I’m slightly concerned about him. He didn’t look too well.’

  ‘He must be getting on a bit,’ Rona said. ‘Surely he’s not still involved in the business?’

  ‘Not actively, no, but he was telling me it’s the firm’s hundred and fiftieth anniversary this year, and they’re bringing out some new line, which is cloaked in secrecy. I had the impression he’s finding the build-up rather a strain, added to which, he and his wife are about to move house.’

  ‘A hundred and fifty years?’ Max glanced at his wife. ‘That qualifies them for your brief, darling.’

  Rona, a freelance journalist on the monthly magazine Chiltern Life, was engaged in an intermittent series detailing the history of long-established local firms and businesses.

  ‘So it does,’ she agreed. ‘I’ll add them to my list.’

  ‘I’d slot them in sooner rather than later,’ Tom suggested. ‘They’ll be extra newsworthy with this anniversary coming up. I can give you a letter of introduction, if you think it’d help.’

  ‘Thanks, Pops, I’m sure it would. I’m coming to the end of the piece I’m working on, so I could try them next.’ She sipped her wine reflectively. ‘Such a long time span might need a couple of articles, rather than cramming it into one. It’s not only the firms that I research, but the lives of those who’ve contributed to them.’

  Tom laughed. ‘In that case, it could take four or five. They’re a large and diverse family. I still haven’t worked out the exact relationship between the younger ones.’

  ‘The business didn’t just pass from father to son, then?’ Catherine asked.

  ‘Well, yes, but way back there were two sons, each of whom had sons of his own, and so on, so now there’s a clutch of cousins and second-cousins. Charles has two sons himself, but one has three little girls, while the other’s divorced with no children. From the way he was speaking, I think he’s worried his branch might peter out.’

  ‘Girls don’t
count then?’ Rona asked quizzically.

  ‘Not in running the business, no, they never have; but since they get their fair share of the proceeds, they don’t miss out.’

  ‘Unless,’ Lindsey put in, ‘they happen to have a flair for business and would give their eye teeth to be involved. So much for women’s lib!’

  Tom held up his hands. ‘All right, all right, I didn’t make the rules! I have to say, though, that in all the years I’ve dealt with the Curzons, I’ve never heard of there being any resentment.’

  ‘Well, you wouldn’t, would you? They’re not likely to come into the bank and say, “We had an almighty row with our daughter last night, because she wants to join the firm.”’

  ‘All this,’ Catherine put in humorously, ‘because of my poor china!’

  The discussion ended in laughter and the conversation turned to other matters.

  ‘That was a lovely meal, Pops,’ Lindsey said as they were about to leave. ‘I bet Catherine had a hand in it!’ And she turned to her with a smile.

  Tom’s heart lifted. ‘You’re right; the casserole was down to me – albeit after tuition – but Catherine takes full credit for that creamy concoction. I don’t even know what it’s called!’

  As the door closed behind them, Catherine observed, ‘To the best of my knowledge, that’s the first smile I’ve ever had from Lindsey.’

  ‘I knew she’d come round eventually. Thanks, love, for all your help. I think we can consider the evening a success. May it be the first of many.’

  Catherine began to stack the dishes. ‘You know, I once mistook Lindsey for Rona, but when you see them together they’re not identical, are they?’

  Tom laughed. ‘Near enough to have caused mayhem in their schooldays. But yes, it’s possible to tell them apart. Lindsey’s not quite as tall, for one thing, and for the moment at least her hair’s longer. The main differences, though, are below the surface. It amazes me how close the two of them are, when their characters are poles apart.’

  ‘Perhaps they complement each other?’ Catherine suggested. ‘Two sides of the same coin?’

  Tom grinned. ‘That’s too deep for me at this time of night! Let’s get the dishwasher loaded, then we can have a nightcap before I take you home.’

  ‘It went well, didn’t it?’ Rona observed to Max as they drove off. ‘I think Pops was a bit apprehensive, bless him, but Linz being there meant a lot to him.’

  ‘It’s taken her long enough,’ Max returned.

  ‘Well, she couldn’t bury her head in the sand for ever, and seeing Mum more settled helps.’

  ‘How are the alterations going?’

  When Tom moved out, Avril had decided to turn the box room into an en suite bathroom and refurbish the guest room, with the intention of taking in paying guests.

  ‘Very slowly, I gather. There’ve been the usual hold-ups – workmen not turning up when they said they would, then ordering the wrong thing.’

  ‘Well, there’s no panic, is there? It’s not as though she needs the cash.’

  ‘But she hates living alone. Between you and me, I think she’s a bit nervous.’

  ‘Advise her to vet applicants very thoroughly. We don’t want any undesirables moving in.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Rona told him. ‘Whoever it is will have to pass muster with all of us.’

  ‘So you dined with the Scarlet Woman?’ drawled Jonathan Hurst. ‘So much for your principles!’

  Lindsey flushed. ‘As you well know, principles are a luxury I can’t afford. Still, she’s making Pops happy, I’ll say that for her, and Mum seems to be doing fine without him.’

  ‘What’s she like then, this woman who’s been bugging you so much?’

  ‘She seems quite pleasant, but nothing out of the ordinary. She’s an ex-head, though, so she might have hidden depths. Come to think of it, it must have been quite an ordeal for her, having us all together for the first time. To give her her due, she handled it very well.’

  ‘So she’s won you over.’ Jonathan removed his arm from her shoulders to look at his watch. ‘Time to make a move, sadly. I’ve an appointment at two thirty.’

  Lindsey lay back and watched him as he padded, naked, to her bathroom. She and Jonathan were partners in a firm of Marsborough solicitors, and these snatched lunchtime sessions, confined to the days when she worked from home, were often all they could manage. For Jonathan had an unsuspecting wife and children, a fact Lindsey preferred not to dwell on.

  And then, she thought despairingly, there was Hugh. He’d arranged to be transferred back to Marsborough, confident they would get together again, and been both hurt and furious when she’d refused to have him back. Which didn’t mean they weren’t still strongly attracted to each other. There was no denying she needed a man in her life, but at the moment her association with Jonathan filled the bill, exciting her with its aura of secrecy and wrongdoing, and giving her the strength to keep Hugh at arm’s length. Playing with fire, Rona called it, and she could be right.

  Reluctantly Lindsey climbed out of bed and reached for her dressing gown.

  ‘They’re taking bets on the new product at school,’ Harry Curzon remarked at breakfast the next morning. ‘And they won’t believe I don’t know what it is. I feel like a real jerk.’

  ‘Would you tell them, if you did know?’ his sister asked through a mouthful of cornflakes.

  ‘Of course not, idiot!’

  ‘There you are, then,’ she said enigmatically.

  Their parents exchanged a glance. ‘You’d better hurry,’ Anna said. ‘The bus will be here in five minutes.’

  ‘Dad?’ Harry persisted. ‘Surely all the family should be in on it?’

  ‘Very definitely not,’ Edward said firmly. ‘The more people who know, the more chance there is of it getting out. Though you wouldn’t disclose it intentionally, there are experienced people out there hell-bent on worming it out of us ahead of time, and they get up to all sorts of tricks. You’re much better off not knowing, believe me. Your mother doesn’t, nor either of your aunts. Sometimes I wish I didn’t myself!’

  Becca pushed back her chair. ‘I left my French book upstairs. Have I time to get it?’

  ‘If you run,’ her mother said. ‘And Harry –’ as her son opened his mouth to argue further – ‘enough! You’ll miss the bus.’

  With bad grace, he stood up, stuffed the last piece of toast in his mouth, and bent to retrieve his satchel.

  ‘See you,’ he muttered indistinctly, and as Becca came clattering down the stairs, they left the house together, the front door slamming behind them.

  ‘And now,’ Edward said, ‘perhaps I can have my second cup of coffee in peace.’

  Anna poured it. ‘I have to say, I’ll be glad when the announcement can be made,’ she said. ‘All this cloak and dagger stuff’s becoming quite a strain.’

  ‘Only another six months, and all will be revealed.’

  ‘Was that true, about underhand tricks being employed?’

  ‘Only too true; believe me, industrial espionage is alive and well.’ Edward drained his cup. ‘By the way, there’s a board meeting after work, so I’ll be late back. You eat with the kids and leave me something in the oven. I’ve a business lunch, so I shan’t want much.’

  She nodded, lifted her face for his kiss, and, as he too left the house, stood up and began to clear the table. What would be the reaction, she wondered, when the news did break? Edward had hinted at a revolutionary product that could turn the industry on its head. In which case, by no means everyone would welcome it.

  The sound of the back door reached her, followed by the inevitable ‘Cooee!’

  Anna picked up the tray and carried it into the kitchen. ‘Morning, Betty,’ she said.

  ‘Morning, Mrs Curzon.’ Her cleaner was tying an apron round her ample waist. ‘Anything special you want doing today?’

  ‘The silver could do with a polish, if you’ve time.’

  ‘Righto. Oh, and I meant to tell you
, we’re getting low on floor polish.’

  ‘I’ll put it on my list.’

  The woman flashed her a glance. ‘My sister-in-law – the one that lives in Chilswood – says there’s a lot of guessing going on about what they’re up to at the pottery. People have even been going through the dustbins.’

  Thank God for shredders, Anna thought. ‘Really?’ she said evenly. ‘I don’t know what the panic is; they’ll know soon enough.’

  ‘That’s what I told her,’ Betty answered righteously, and, standing her bucket in the sink, she turned on the taps.

  Anna, on her way upstairs, wondered if Edward knew of the dustbin-raiders. He hadn’t mentioned it. Perhaps it was all part and parcel of the industrial espionage campaign. The thought left an unpleasant feeling, and she was glad she was meeting Sally and Emma, fellow Curzon wives, for lunch. Unlike the men, who of necessity saw each other every day, the women of the family met only occasionally, each otherwise engaged in her own pursuits. Today was to be one of those times. It would be interesting, Anna thought, to hear what Sally had to say; she lived and worked in Chilswood, so her ear was correspondingly closer to the ground.

  Rona had just left the post office when her mobile rang, and she juggled dog lead and handbag in an effort to retrieve it.

  ‘Pops? Hi; could you speak up – I’m on Guild Street and there’s a lot of traffic.’

  ‘Just a brief message, sweetie. I phoned Charles Curzon to ask whom you should approach with your idea.’

  ‘Oh, thanks. And who did he suggest?’

  ‘Finlay Curzon. It seems he’s their Sales and Marketing Director.’

  ‘Where does he fit in the family hierarchy?’

  ‘Charles referred to him as his nephew, but that’s not strictly accurate. I happen to know Finlay’s father was Charles’s cousin, which would make Finlay his first cousin once removed.’

  ‘I’ll settle for nephew! So what happens next?’ A bus lumbered past, obliterating her father’s voice. ‘Sorry, could you say that again?’

  ‘He suggests you write to Finlay at the pottery – they’re out at Chilswood, of course – outlining what you have in mind and asking for an appointment. You don’t need anything from me – Charles will explain who you are. He doesn’t foresee any difficulty; on the contrary, he thinks it would help build public interest in the lead-up to the anniversary.’