The Stone Wife

‘And probably didn’t know much about Nathan. He does now.’

‘You’re so right — which is why I feel so bad that he got roughed up. He had no idea what he was taking on. I should have warned him Nathan wouldn’t give me up without a fight, but I was thinking only of myself. Do you think he’s okay?’

‘Marcus? He’ll be fine. It could have been a lot worse. They could have used guns.’

Lee put her hand to her mouth. ‘That would have been awful.’ Significantly, she didn’t show disbelief that Nathan might have access to a gun.

Ingeborg said, ‘I tried to make sure they weren’t armed. Nathan told me he wouldn’t put you at risk and he meant it.’ She took a long sip of the wine. ‘But you were going to tell me more about him. I’m interested.’

‘You won’t put this into print?’

‘God, no. I may be a hack, but I have my standards.’

‘Okay.’ Lee rested her glass on the side and brought her arms around her raised knees. ‘Nathan won’t ever say how he got to be so rich, even when I ask. He gives the sort of smart answers he was giving you in the car today. I’m naturally curious to know the truth about the man I go to bed with.’

‘Who wouldn’t be?’

‘He does heaps of business on the phone and then people — nearly always men — come to see him here. They never stay long. And he doesn’t employ a PA or a secretary like you would expect for somebody running a business. The guys who work for him are all part of the housekeeping side of things.’

‘Or protection,’ Ingeborg said.

‘He calls that housekeeping as well. I guess it is, in a way. But you’d think he’d need someone to keep records of his dealings. There don’t seem to be any records. It’s all word of mouth. I asked him once if he employed an accountant and he laughed and said something about mental arithmetic.’

‘So what’s the explanation?’

‘I can’t say for certain, but I’m afraid it must be illegal.’

‘I can’t disagree with that,’ Ingeborg said.

Lee looked right and left and then leaned forward. ‘I was thinking drugs.’

‘Really?’

‘When he talks about dealing in hardware I think he must mean hard drugs, like cocaine and heroin. It’s a play on words, and it obviously amuses him.’

‘That passed me by, I have to say,’ Ingeborg said in all sincerity. ‘Is there any proof?’

‘Nothing for certain. He doesn’t do drugs himself, I’m sure of that. But then dealers are in it to make money, not to use the stuff themselves.’

‘If he’s dealing on a big scale he must have a stash in the house somewhere. Where does he store it, do you think?’

‘I haven’t seen all over the house. There’s a locked room on the same floor as his bedroom. One afternoon when he was out, I did some exploring upstairs, hoping to find out more. I’ve often heard him go up there with his customers, as he calls them.’

‘Why would he do that?’ Ingeborg asked, trying to sound calm while her heart was pumping harder than the jacuzzi. ‘The customers don’t need to see what he stores up there.’

A look of uncertainty crossed Lee’s face. ‘I hadn’t thought about that.’

‘It would be a huge risk, showing them his stash of drugs. A dealer doesn’t want people knowing how much he has.’

‘That’s true.’ She was crestfallen.

‘Did you get into the room?’

‘No. Like I say, it’s kept locked.’ Lee hesitated. ‘If he doesn’t deal in drugs, what else could he have in there? A machine for printing banknotes? No, he wouldn’t invite people in there to see. How about fake paintings? He’d need to let the customers have a sight of them if he was selling.’

‘He isn’t the artistic type,’ Ingeborg said. ‘Believe me, I’ve met a few artists and Nathan doesn’t cut it as a Leonardo. Even a Picasso.’

They both laughed.

‘I don’t think I’ve seen a single picture in this house.’

‘You’re right.’ Lee sighed. ‘I’m running out of ideas. Do you have a theory yourself?’

Ingeborg did, but she wasn’t ready to reveal it. First, she needed to coax more information from Lee. ‘Maybe there’s something to be learned from the people he calls his customers. Are there any regulars?’

‘I don’t think so. The ones I’ve seen have been different each time. And they’re all sorts, going by their cars, beat-up old bangers to Rolls-Royces.’

‘Local people, would you say?’

‘I can’t tell. I haven’t spoken to many of them.’

‘Do they come alone?’

‘Nearly always, and almost all of them are men.’

‘Thinking back over the last two or three weeks, can you remember any in particular?’

‘Now you’re asking.’ Lee sank up to her neck in the churning water, and for a moment Ingeborg thought she was about to duck the question as well. ‘I did open the door last week to a man who came in a Range Rover and said he was sorry he was early, but he’d miscalculated the journey, so I guess he came from a long way off. He said his name was Rollo, and he was expected at three. This was about two thirty and Nathan was having a siesta, as he calls it. Anyway, I sat Rollo down in one of the living rooms and gave him a magazine to look at. I’m sure it was his first time here. He was so twitchy, as if he was nervous of meeting Nathan.’