Perfect Strangers

32

 

Lana’s house was a thirty-minute drive away in Cap Ferrat, an exclusive wooded peninsula beyond Nice, sandwiched between the understated but extremely expensive villages of Villefranche and Beaulieu-sur-Mer. Josh and Sophie sat in silence, unable to talk in front of Lana or her driver, each wrapped in their own unspoken questions as the car drove past the crowded restaurants and pretty terracotta houses of Saint-Jean, then out on to the headland, the pine forest closing in around the impressively discreet properties on the winding sea road, each one protected by high walls and security cameras. The Goddard-Prices’ home was smaller but no less impressive than Villa Polieux, with its pale pink exterior and neat garden bursting with bougainvillea.

 

Not that Sophie was in any mood to appreciate it. The journey had given her plenty of time to imagine almost every possible scenario to do with Nick and Lana, but one thing seemed obvious: whatever Lana Goddard-Price’s motivations were, it was no coincidence that she had chosen Sophie to house-sit for her. And that meant that Sophie had been duped. Why? She had no idea. But the very idea that she had been sucked into this chaotic and dangerous plot on purpose made her almost sick with anger. Josh clearly felt the fury coming from her, and as the car pulled to a stop, he took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. That was something, she supposed.

 

Stepping out into the balmy night air, Sophie could hear the shrill rasp of crickets in the bushes and feel the breeze blowing through the umbrella pines. For one moment she had the urge to run off into the dark forest, leave all her burning questions unanswered, leave the whole sorry mess behind. But she had to know. She had come too far to turn back now.

 

The house was in darkness as they stepped inside. Josh and Sophie followed Lana down cool stone corridors and into a wood-panelled study. Lana went behind the desk and switched on a lamp, then indicated a pair of sofas.

 

‘Please, sit.’

 

She took a cigarette from a case on the desk, lighting it with a slim gold lighter.

 

‘Terrible habit, I know,’ she said, blowing a long stream of smoke at the ceiling. ‘When my personal trainer isn’t around, I fall back into terrible habits.’

 

‘If your name is Lana, then who is A?’ asked Josh, settling back in his seat.

 

‘My full name is Alannah. Most people call me Lana.’

 

Sophie glared at her. ‘Well, what do you want from me, Alannah? We know you were Nick’s lover. I somehow doubt it was an accident your house-sitter was involved with him too.’

 

‘Nick had many amours, but I wasn’t one of them,’ said Lana, pouring herself a brandy from a decanter on the desk, then sitting down opposite Sophie and Josh. ‘Our relationship was of a professional nature. I was paying him to do a job, which was to get involved with you.’

 

‘But why? Why on earth—’

 

‘Hang on,’ interrupted Josh. ‘Can someone fill me in, please? So it was your place in Knightsbridge Sophie was house-sitting?’

 

Lana nodded. ‘And she put me through my paces at the gym.’

 

‘So it was a set-up,’ said Sophie bitterly. ‘You put those invitations on the mantelpiece deliberately.’

 

Lana smiled. ‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist going to the parties, although I was surprised you went the very first night. Still, it meant Nick could get to work as quickly as possible.’

 

‘To work?’ yelled Sophie, all her frustrations spilling over. ‘I’m not some bloody dog to be trained! What the hell do you want from me, Lana?’

 

‘You really don’t know, do you?’ said Lana, her voice as soft as the evening breeze. ‘Sophie Ellis, you are the key to a fortune.’

 

Sophie felt goose bumps prickle up her arms.

 

‘But I don’t have any money,’ she said. ‘You knew that. That was why I started the personal training.’

 

Lana stubbed her cigarette out in an onyx ashtray.

 

‘How much do you know about your father’s professional life, Sophie?’

 

‘I’m not here to answer your damn questions,’ shouted Sophie. ‘You should be answering mine!’

 

Josh touched her arm.

 

‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘Let her talk.’

 

‘No, Josh!’ said Sophie, her voice cracking. ‘She lied to me from the very start; why should I listen to her now?’

 

‘Because it’s the only way we’ll find out what’s going on.’

 

‘Your friend Josh is right, Sophie,’ said Lana. ‘I know you have no reason to trust me, but believe me, I do want to help.’

 

Sophie looked at Josh again, then sighed.

 

‘My dad was a good accountant, is that what you want to know? He made one bad investment, but he was clever, he’d have made it back . . . Look, what’s he got to do with any of this?’

 

Lana was nodding.

 

‘You’re right about that, Sophie. Peter Ellis was a clever accountant, very clever indeed. So clever in fact that no one, not even those closest to him, suspected that he was involved in one of the biggest financial scams of all time.’

 

‘Involved in a scam? Are you talking about Michael Asner here?’ demanded Sophie.

 

‘Michael Asner the Ponzi scheme fraudster?’ said Josh, sitting forward. ‘But I thought your dad lost all your money to that guy.’

 

‘He did. Our family was ruined because of Asner. My dad invested everything with him and lost it when the scheme collapsed.’

 

Lana gave a small tinkling laugh.

 

‘That’s what your father wanted people to believe, but in fact Peter was very much involved in the scheme. He was the bag man.’

 

‘Bag man?’ asked Sophie.

 

‘Someone who collects dirty money,’ explained Josh softly. ‘I think she’s suggesting that your father buried the cash for Asner so that if the pyramid scheme went down, there was still some squirrelled away.’

 

‘Very good,’ said Lana, giving Josh a thin smile. ‘Your friend is shrewd as well as good looking.’

 

Sophie looked at Josh desperately, hoping he would tell her it was all a lie, but his expression told her otherwise. She put her head in her hands, rubbing her temples. It was all so fantastic, her head was starting to pound. Could it be true? She had known her dad and Asner had been at uni together, but why would Peter Ellis let his family suffer such hardship and humiliation if he had access to the missing Asner millions?

 

‘I just can’t believe it,’ she said quietly. ‘He was a small-time City accountant. He did people’s taxes and sorted out their pensions.’

 

‘That’s why he was perfect, Sophie,’ said Lana, sipping her brandy. ‘I don’t know whether he was involved from the start, or whether Asner approached him when things started to get hot and he had to make a contingency plan, but it was a stroke of genius to choose your father. Asner knew that the SEC, the FBI would investigate his close Wall Street colleagues, but a small-time British accountant who had lost all this money in the scheme? He’d be completely off their radar.’

 

‘How do you know all this?’ asked Josh.

 

Lana stood up and pulled a thick manila file from a drawer in the desk.

 

‘I have spent nine months and hundreds of thousands of dollars looking into Asner’s affairs. Private investigators, forensic accountants, they’ve collected every last scrap of information on him and sifted through it. I think I know more about him than the FBI.’

 

‘But why?’ asked Sophie, shaking her head. ‘Why go to all that trouble?’

 

‘Because my family lost everything too,’ said Lana. Her eyes were bright and fierce.

 

‘Your family?’ said Sophie.

 

‘My family are based in Madrid. They were wealthy, but not super-rich. Like yours, they invested everything they had in Asner’s scheme, hoping for a glorious return for their pension. Like your parents, like hundreds of others, they lost everything. I support them financially now, but that’s not the point. No one should be allowed to get away with what Asner did.’

 

She walked over to pour herself another brandy, and Sophie noticed that her hands were shaking.

 

‘I knew from the start we were unlikely to get anything back. The Securities and Exchange Commission has been trying to trace the money, of course, but it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack, and besides, it has limited resources like any governmental department. So I recruited my own team to look into it. They did a very good job, if I do say so myself.’

 

‘So where is the money?’ said Josh.

 

‘I don’t know.’

 

‘You don’t know? Why not?’

 

‘Because the trail ends here.’ Lana looked at Sophie.

 

‘With me? That’s crazy!’

 

‘Is it?’ said Lana. ‘Everyone involved with the Asner investigation believes he must have stashed the money somewhere, but I’m convinced your father was the one who hid it.’

 

‘I don’t believe it,’ said Sophie. ‘If he had all that money, why would he have made us suffer like that?’

 

‘Suffer?’ laughed Lana. ‘You hardly suffered, Sophie. You had to come down a few pegs in life, that’s all. And your father would have thought the discomfort was worth it for the rewards he knew were to follow. My guess is that he would have waited two or three years for the scandal to die down, then quietly distributed the money back to Asner’s wife and inner circle, and of course kept a big chunk for himself – he would have set you up for life.’

 

A sickening thought suddenly occurred to Sophie.

 

‘Was my father killed?’

 

Lana shook her head sadly. ‘I don’t know. But either way, the trail ends with you. With such a large fortune at stake, your father would have made his own contingency plan; he would have told someone else where the money was hidden in the event that anything happened to him or Asner.’

 

‘And you think that person was me?’

 

‘Of course. He loved you, he trusted you. Who else would he turn to?’

 

Sophie looked at Josh, her eyes pleading.

 

‘But he didn’t tell me anything.’

 

‘So let’s get this straight,’ Josh said to Lana, narrowing his eyes. ‘You engineered it so that Sophie would come and house-sit for you, presumably so she would bring all her personal possessions with her? Then you hired Nick to seduce her, to work his way into her life and find out everything he could about it?’

 

Lana nodded.

 

‘You’re a cold bitch, aren’t you?’ he said.

 

‘I thought it was the best way,’ said Lana uncertainly, her composure slipping.

 

‘The best way?’ snarled Josh, banging his fist down on the desktop. ‘You got Sophie wrapped up in all this, you got Nick killed, all for nothing.’

 

‘I did not get Nick killed!’ shouted Lana.

 

‘Well, who did?’ said Josh. ‘If you hadn’t roped him into your dirty little scheme, he’d still be alive!’

 

‘Why do you think his death was anything to do with this?’ said Lana defensively.

 

‘You want us to believe it was his little wine scam?’ sneered Josh. ‘Don’t make me bloody laugh! There are billions involved in this!’

 

‘STOP! Both of you!’ yelled Sophie, holding her hands over her ears. ‘Please, I can’t stand it!’

 

Silence descended on the room.

 

‘Whoever killed Nick is now after Sophie,’ said Josh, still glaring at Lana. ‘In London two Russians tried to shoot her. They turned up again in Nice. We don’t know who they are, but they are armed, connected and resourceful.’ He tapped a finger against the thick file. ‘So who are they?’

 

Lana bit her lip and looked thoughtful. ‘Russians?’

 

‘Eastern European of some description. Although I suppose they could just be guns for hire.’

 

‘If my team managed to trace Asner’s involvement with Peter Ellis, it’s possible other investors made the same connection,’ said Lana. ‘A lot of rich people gave a lot of money to Asner, and no doubt they want it back just as much as me. There’s a list of the probables in my file. Ukrainian oligarchs, Chinese business fronts, maybe even the Russian Mafia.’

 

‘Jesus,’ said Josh.

 

‘Could I have a drink?’ croaked Sophie.

 

Lana poured her a large brandy and Sophie put the cool glass to her cheek. Could it be true? It was insane, but in some funny way, it did provide an explanation for what had happened. Peter and Michael Asner were old friends, and her dad was also experienced in offshore financial planning, Sophie knew that from her work at his firm. Dad didn’t really have any close friends, only the old duffers at the sailing club, and if he’d had a secret to keep, he certainly wouldn’t have shared it with her mother. Julia Ellis was not the sort of woman you’d tell anything important, not unless you were happy for everyone in the butcher’s and the post office to know every detail by the end of the day. She knocked back the cognac, wincing as it burned her throat.

 

‘What do you know, Sophie?’ asked Josh.

 

‘I don’t know anything,’ she said, looking down at her empty glass. ‘Really, I don’t.’

 

Lana came across and sat down beside her.

 

‘Sophie, you must. Maybe Nick did get killed because of it.’

 

‘You think he found something?’ asked Josh.

 

Lana looked at him.

 

‘Perhaps. Nick’s brief was to talk to Sophie about her father, see if he had told you anything, maybe mentioned a bank account or some tax haven you used to go to on holiday. So yes, maybe he did discover something.’

 

‘And you think he tried to use that information to his own advantage?’

 

‘That might explain the Russians,’ said Lana sadly. ‘Nick was smart, he could have worked out that selling the information to the highest bidder was more lucrative than the money I was paying him. And perhaps they killed him when he was no longer useful.’

 

Josh shook his head.

 

‘That doesn’t add up. If Nick had given them the information, then why go after Sophie?’

 

Lana lit another cigarette and stood up.

 

‘Maybe he changed his mind, refused to tell them? I haven’t got all the answers,’ she said, taking a long drag. ‘That’s why I need you.’

 

‘Us?’ said Sophie warily. ‘What for?’

 

‘She wants us to find the money,’ said Josh. ‘Right?’

 

Lana nodded, blowing out smoke. ‘If we find it and return it to the proper authorities, then you’re free.’ She shrugged. ‘There is no point in anybody chasing you.’

 

The silence in the room indicated that everybody agreed with the statement.

 

‘And by “return it to the proper authorities”, you mean after you’ve taken a big slice,’ said Josh with a twisted smile.

 

‘I only want what’s mine!’ snapped Lana. ‘I only want justice.’

 

Josh and Lana began bickering between themselves, but their voices faded into the background as a vague thought sharpened into focus.

 

‘My book,’ said Sophie quietly.

 

Josh and Lana both looked at her.

 

‘What book?’ said Lana.

 

She looked over at Josh for reassurance.

 

‘Lana, you said that Nick’s brief was to find out if my father had given me any information, maybe a bank account number or something? Dad gave me a book for my birthday, this second-hand copy of I Capture the Castle – it was an in joke between us.’

 

‘I don’t understand,’ said Lana. ‘How does this get us the bank details?’

 

‘This book, it’s old, a bit worn, and the name of the previous owner is written in it. There’s a number in it too. I assumed it was a phone number or a date of birth, but . . . You think it could be an account number?’

 

‘Why didn’t you mention this before?’ snapped Josh. ‘We’ve been running around all this time risking our necks, and all along we had the bloody thing with us? Sophie, why didn’t you say anything?’

 

‘I didn’t know it was relevant!’ she shouted back. ‘And you said I was in danger because of something Nick gave to me, not my dad.’

 

‘I’m not bloody psychic!’ he replied.

 

‘All right, all right,’ said Lana, holding up her hands. ‘Where is this book now? Do you have it with you?’

 

‘It’s in my bag, back at the hotel in Cannes.’

 

‘In the least secure hotel in France,’ scoffed Josh.

 

‘Then we must go there immediately.’

 

Lana stood up, grabbed the manila file and headed for the door. ‘Well?’ she said, turning back, her hand on the doorknob. ‘What are you waiting for?’

 

 

 

 

 

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