Where There's A Will

Chapter Forty-Four

Stone ignored the questions that were shouted at him as he crept forwards in his car, making his way through the crowd of reporters and journalists camped outside the Keating residence. He was relieved to leave the circus behind once through the gates, and he headed up the drive to park by the police cars near the garage.

Getting out, he made his way around to the kitchen; he could have rung the bell and waited to be let in through the front door by Chambers, but chose not to, he didn't want to give the press either an excuse or an opportunity to take pictures, and he knew they would if the front door opened – they would take pictures of anything, even a servant, in case they caught a glimpse of something worth publishing.

"Evening." Stone helped himself to a mug of coffee from the half full pot on his way through the kitchen. He stopped when he got to the door and turned back. "Where's Mr Keating?" he asked.

"With his wife, sir," Chambers answered. "Would you like to speak with him?"

"Please," Stone said, thinking that he should bring Owen Keating up to date with things, and check that there were no problems he needed to deal with.

"I'll see him directly, sir." Chambers got to his feet, took his jacket from the back of his chair, pulled it on, and with brisk steps left the kitchen to find his employer.

Stone followed the house-manager as he strode down the passage, cradling the mug of coffee to warm his hands – it wasn't a cold evening, but his fingers were stiff. He stopped following the house-manager when he reached the reception hall, choosing to wait there, since he didn't know where Owen Keating was, or where he would want to talk with him.

The sound of rapid footsteps made Stone turn to see who was descending the stairs in such a hurry - it was Ryan Keating. The Keating heir – though he wouldn't be for much longer, if the rumours were to be believed – was dressed for an evening on the town, in an outfit and jewellery that Stone estimated was worth at least what he made in a month, perhaps more.

"Where are you going?"

Stone spun at the question, and saw that Owen Keating was preceding Mr Chambers towards them from the study. The angry look on Keating's face matched the tone in which he had asked the question.

"Out," Ryan Keating said, as if the answer should have been obvious.

Owen Keating looked at his son incredulously. "You're going out." The anger remained, but now it was overlaid by a disbelieving tone. "How the hell can you go out at a time like this?" he wanted to know as he reached out to stop his son with a hand on his arm.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?" Owen Keating asked, the disbelief in his voice increasing. "How can you go out at a time like this? Don't you care in the slightest what's happening?"

Ryan Keating shrugged. "What'm I supposed to do, stay in and mope around the house? What would be the point in that? Me staying in won't help Alice, or mum; mum's doped up to the eyeballs – right now she doesn't know who's here and who isn't, and you've got Inspector Gadget in there," he indicated the library with a jerk of his head. "As well as the rest of the plods, to help you when it comes to Little Miss Perfect.

"It's not as if there's even anything you can do; the ransom drop isn't 'til tomorrow night, you can't pick up the money for it 'til tomorrow when the bank calls, and you can't do anything about whatever evidence he's," that time the jerk of the head indicated Stone, who was doing his best not to get caught in the middle of the family dispute, "got, because that's his job. Not that he's got anything, have you!" He suddenly rounded on Stone, who returned his gaze steadily.

When the inspector didn't respond, Ryan smiled nastily and said, "I thought so, you're as useless as all other plods. Since there's nothing I can do here, I'm going out to have some fun." With that he pulled his arm free from his father's grip and strode across the foyer to the door, which he yanked open so he could disappear into the night.

Stone and Owen Keating were still at the foot of the sweeping staircase leading up to the first floor, with Mr Chambers a couple of steps away, when they heard the roar of an engine. Owen Keating followed the racing engine with his eyes, as if he could see the car through the walls of his house. Only when it was no longer audible did he turn to Stone, a worried look on his face.

"I hope he doesn't do anything stupid," he said, though he didn't sound the least bit confident that his son would behave sensibly.

"I'll put the word out, and have the patrol cars and uniforms keep an eye out for him," Stone said.

"Thanks, but I don't imagine it will make any difference." Owen Keating sounded resigned. "If Ryan gets it into his head to do something stupid, then nothing and no-one will stop him. Let's go into my study," he changed the subject abruptly.

"Chambers said you want to speak to me," Keating said once he was seated at his desk, his physical and emotional exhaustion showed in the way he slouched in his seat. "Have you got good news?" he asked, a shadow of hope in his eyes, though it reached no further.

"We have a couple of possible suspects," Stone told the worry-filled father. "Nothing definite so far, but we're still investigating, and hope to have a better idea of whether we're looking at the right people soon. We have a name for the first of the suspects, and have established that he has a motive, he also appears to have been away from home and out of sight since yesterday morning. We're now attempting to find him, and to discover if he has an alibi for the time when Alice was taken."

"Is it anyone I know?"

Stone looked at Owen Keating for a moment before answering. "His name is Lewis Rice, he's a former employee of your company," he said.

There was a look of bewilderment on Owen Keating's face for a moment, but then it cleared up, though he remained unhappy. "Isn't he a programmer? I wouldn't have thought someone like that would be involved."

"That's right, Mr Keating, he was a programmer on one of your projects last year. According to what we've been able to discover," Stone said, "he was sacked at the beginning of the year, following allegations that he stole money from the project's funding, the result of which is that he bears a grudge against you."

"But I had nothing to do with that," Owen protested. "I had no idea he had been sacked; I don't know him, I just remember hearing or seeing his name somewhere, probably as part of a report on whatever project he was working on."

"That rarely makes a difference when it comes to something like this," Stone said. "You own the company, and are the one ultimately in charge. He might blame the project manager for what happened, but if he's decided to get revenge and seek compensation, and I stress that we are still investigating, and aren't yet certain of his involvement, then you're the one with the money." It wasn't fair, he knew that, but all too often it was the way of the world.

"What about the other suspect you said you have?" Keating asked, to take his mind off the unfairness of his family being targeted simply because he owned the company.

"At the moment we don't actually know anything about him," Stone admitted. "The detectives I have trying to find Mr Rice were told by one of his neighbours that he left home yesterday in the company of a rough-looking individual on a motorbike, someone he's never been seen with before. It's vague, I know, but we have to follow up on every lead, no matter how slim."