was a lie.”
“You mean … his name wasn’t Lenny Smile?” Tim asked.
“Lenny Smile never existed, Tim!” I explained. “He was a fantasy. I should have known when I saw the details on the gravestone. It said that he was born on 31st April 1955. But that was the first lie. There are only thirty days in April. 31st April doesn’t exist!”
“It was a mistake…” Fiona muttered.
“Maybe. But then there was that photograph Carter showed us of ‘Lenny’ standing outside the Café Debussy. You told us that he was allergic to a lot of things, and one of those things was animals. But in the photograph there’s a cat sitting between his feet – and he doesn’t seem to care. The allergy business was a lie. But it was a clever one. It meant that he had a reason not to be seen. He had to stay indoors because he was ill…”
Centimetre by centimetre, the big wheel carried us further away from the ground. The rain was hammering against the glass. Looking out, I could barely see the buildings on the north bank of the river. There was Big Ben, but then the rain swept across it, turning it into a series of brown and white streaks.
Tim gaped. “So there was no Lenny Smile!” he exclaimed.
“That’s right. Except when Hoover
pretended
to be Lenny Smile. Don’t you see? He rented the flat even though he never actually lived there. Occasionally he went in and out to make it look as if there was someone there. And of course it was Hoover who wrote that letter to Mrs Lovely.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it was written in green ink. The message we saw in the card on Lenny’s grave was also written in green ink – and it was the same handwriting. I should have seen from the start. It was Hoover we saw at the circus. And he was also there at Brompton Cemetery the day we visited the grave. I should have known it was him as soon as we met him at the Dream Time office.”
“Why?” Tim asked.
“Because Hoover had never met us – but somehow he knew we’d been to Brompton Cemetery. Don’t you remember what he said to us? ‘You know very well that he’s lying there in Brompton Cemetery.’ Those were his exact words. But he only knew we knew because he knew who we were, and he knew who we were because he’d seen us!”
Tim scratched his head. “Could you say that last bit again?”
Fiona looked at me scornfully. “You’re talking tommy-rot!” she said.
“Was Tommy part of this too?” Tim asked.
“Why would Rodney and I want to invent a man called Lenny Smile?” she continued, ignoring him.
“Because the two of you were stealing millions of pounds from Dream Time. You knew that eventually the police would catch up with you. And there was always the danger that someone like Joe Carter would come over from America to find out what was happening to his money. You were the brains behind the charity. You were the ‘big wheels’, if you like. But you needed someone to take the blame and then disappear. That was Lenny Smile. Henderson – the policeman – must have found out what was going on, so he had to die too. And that was your brilliant idea. You’d turn Henderson into Lenny Smile. He went under the steamroller and, as far as you were concerned, that was the end of the matter. Smile was dead. There was nothing left to investigate.”
The pod was still moving up. There were a few pedestrians out on the South Bank. By now they were no more than dots.
“But now the police think Lenny Smile is alive,” I went on. “That’s why the two of you aren’t in jail. They’re looking for him. They don’t have any proof against you. So the two of you are in the clear!”
Hoover had listened to all this in silence but now he smiled, his thin lips peeling back from his teeth. “You have it exactly right,” he said. “Fiona and I are nobodies. We were just working for Lenny Smile. He is the real crook. And, as you say, they have no proof. Nobody has any proof.”
“Hoover dressed up as
“You mean … his name wasn’t Lenny Smile?” Tim asked.
“Lenny Smile never existed, Tim!” I explained. “He was a fantasy. I should have known when I saw the details on the gravestone. It said that he was born on 31st April 1955. But that was the first lie. There are only thirty days in April. 31st April doesn’t exist!”
“It was a mistake…” Fiona muttered.
“Maybe. But then there was that photograph Carter showed us of ‘Lenny’ standing outside the Café Debussy. You told us that he was allergic to a lot of things, and one of those things was animals. But in the photograph there’s a cat sitting between his feet – and he doesn’t seem to care. The allergy business was a lie. But it was a clever one. It meant that he had a reason not to be seen. He had to stay indoors because he was ill…”
Centimetre by centimetre, the big wheel carried us further away from the ground. The rain was hammering against the glass. Looking out, I could barely see the buildings on the north bank of the river. There was Big Ben, but then the rain swept across it, turning it into a series of brown and white streaks.
Tim gaped. “So there was no Lenny Smile!” he exclaimed.
“That’s right. Except when Hoover
pretended
to be Lenny Smile. Don’t you see? He rented the flat even though he never actually lived there. Occasionally he went in and out to make it look as if there was someone there. And of course it was Hoover who wrote that letter to Mrs Lovely.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it was written in green ink. The message we saw in the card on Lenny’s grave was also written in green ink – and it was the same handwriting. I should have seen from the start. It was Hoover we saw at the circus. And he was also there at Brompton Cemetery the day we visited the grave. I should have known it was him as soon as we met him at the Dream Time office.”
“Why?” Tim asked.
“Because Hoover had never met us – but somehow he knew we’d been to Brompton Cemetery. Don’t you remember what he said to us? ‘You know very well that he’s lying there in Brompton Cemetery.’ Those were his exact words. But he only knew we knew because he knew who we were, and he knew who we were because he’d seen us!”
Tim scratched his head. “Could you say that last bit again?”
Fiona looked at me scornfully. “You’re talking tommy-rot!” she said.
“Was Tommy part of this too?” Tim asked.
“Why would Rodney and I want to invent a man called Lenny Smile?” she continued, ignoring him.
“Because the two of you were stealing millions of pounds from Dream Time. You knew that eventually the police would catch up with you. And there was always the danger that someone like Joe Carter would come over from America to find out what was happening to his money. You were the brains behind the charity. You were the ‘big wheels’, if you like. But you needed someone to take the blame and then disappear. That was Lenny Smile. Henderson – the policeman – must have found out what was going on, so he had to die too. And that was your brilliant idea. You’d turn Henderson into Lenny Smile. He went under the steamroller and, as far as you were concerned, that was the end of the matter. Smile was dead. There was nothing left to investigate.”
The pod was still moving up. There were a few pedestrians out on the South Bank. By now they were no more than dots.
“But now the police think Lenny Smile is alive,” I went on. “That’s why the two of you aren’t in jail. They’re looking for him. They don’t have any proof against you. So the two of you are in the clear!”
Hoover had listened to all this in silence but now he smiled, his thin lips peeling back from his teeth. “You have it exactly right,” he said. “Fiona and I are nobodies. We were just working for Lenny Smile. He is the real crook. And, as you say, they have no proof. Nobody has any proof.”
“Hoover dressed up as
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