Conman by Richard Asplin

Author:Richard Asplin [Asplin, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Humorous, Thrillers, Suspense
ISBN: 184243294X
Google: H3HWLAAACAAJ
Amazon: B00796E13U
Publisher: No Exit Press
Published: 2009-01-01T11:00:00+00:00

Their heavy boots and huge frames rustling in their jackets made the place look tiny, just as they had in my sitting room. I pulled out chairs in the back office, snapped on the portable heater and sat down.

They knew most of it, which surprised me. About Christopher (not his real name), Henry (not his real name), Pete (likewise), Julio (nope) and Laura (real name Margaret, which didn’t go at all).

Being British coppers, the first thing they wanted was tea. And then my version of events, starting with the car-jacking and Laura/Margaret’s arrival at my door ten days ago. Christ, was that all it had been? So I laid it all out for them in broad strokes, the Sergeant nodding, the Manc writing it all down. The Sergeant then proceeded to slide out a manilla envelope and produce some glossy 10×8 black and white photographs, laying them out one by one on my counter like a storyboard for Sucker – The Movie.

“Yes,” I said with an uncomfortable cough. “That’s him. Christopher. At Claridge’s.”

“And that’s you talking to him. Going over your plan?”

“Hn? Er, yes, yes I suppose so.”

“You suppose?”

“I mean our plan sounds, y’know –”

“And this? Your shop?”

“Right where you’re sitting.”

“And you’re letting these men in to … ?”

“Well, that was on, what, the Saturday? Yes. The thirty-first. That was all part of it. Like I said. Preparing the shop. Props.”

“Oh, so they did this with your consent? You were aware of it all.”

“Of course,” I said. “They needed help with the wall hanging,” and I motioned at the blank space where a box once hung. “Using the till and everything.”

Manc made notes.

“And this?” Scot said, sliding another across the desk.

“Shit. When … that was today. Where were you …”

“Can you just confirm that the gentleman in the cab is you, sir?”

“Yes,” I said, staring at the frozen kiss, Laura’s hand about my neck. “Uhmm, look, I don’t know if this is possible or anything.” Scot looked at me. “My wife …”

“Mrs Martin.”

“Spencer-Martin,” I corrected. “She’s, y’know. Her dad’s …”

They looked blankly at me.

“Look, anyway, she doesn’t know.”

“Know?”

“About this. About anything. Laura, Grayson, the money, the airport. Any of it. And y’know –”

“Oh, you’d rather she didn’t find out.”

I smiled a little.

“If that’s at all possible.”

The policemen exchanged looks.

“Hmn. Mr Martin, I’m not sure you understand the full extent of the last few days’ events,” Scot said. He stood slowly and began to wander about the office, lifting up nick-nacks, peering into envelopes, sniffing at the junk. “You knowingly and deliberately conspired to defraud an American citizen to the tune of half a million pounds.”

“What?”

“You say that you were involved in this con game against your will but all our evidence suggests you were not only complicit, but you went out of your way to be as much help –”

“Wait, no wait,” I said hurriedly. “What are you … I mean, I was the – they were conning me. The fifty thousand.”

“Fifty – ?” the constable said, flipping back.

“Of course! That’s what this was all about! Getting me to trust them.

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