Redemption
had
befallen Lizzie.
    “He
was,” Marcus assured him. “One of our colleagues found Samson
shortly after he died, but it has taken us a few days to get a
formal identification. Nobody reported him missing, you see? We may
be wrong, you understand, but there are rumours that Samson owed a
somewhat questionable gangster, a man called Raymond Trent, a
significant amount of money.”
    “Is
Trent a loan shark?” Ben thought over Julian’s comment about
running up debts at the Riverside Club, and looked at Barnaby.
“Julian told me that Lizzie was at risk from Trent because he had
run up debts he couldn’t repay.”
    He
stopped when Marcus shook his head.
    “Death
isn’t Trent’s style but it may be Pendlebury’s.”
    Ben
almost slumped, but then looked questioningly at Marcus and then
Barnaby when it became apparent that there was something they
weren’t telling him.
    “So
Samson and Julian owe this man, Trent, money?” For the life of him
he couldn’t fathom what this had to do with Lizzie and fought hard
to quell his impatience. His head was whirling with facts that he
just couldn’t absorb.
    “Rumours
are that Samson ran up the debts from gambling rather heavily at
the Riverside Club, but we don’t know who started the rumour.
Unfortunately, there is no proof that Samson owed anyone anything
because he was rich and didn’t seem to owe anybody
anything.”
    “Why
would anyone start the rumour though?”
    “To
falsify a motive for Samson’s death,” Barnaby reported
bluntly.
    Marcus
leaned forward. “We searched Samson’s house. All of his accounts
were in order, his bills were all up to date, and there was money
in the safe. The man was affluent. There is no reason why he should
borrow money from anyone.”
    Ben’s
head was beginning to ache. “What does this have to do with Lizzie?
Do you think Pendlebury killed her?”
    “Well,
we did but then don’t understand why Pendlebury has gone off to
jail,” Barnaby reasoned.
    “What do
you mean?” Ben asked, glad that the man was at least behind
bars.
    Barnaby
nodded, understanding his friend’s worry. He had seen enough of his
colleagues go through the emotional mangle during their own
romantic exploits and knew the look on Ben’s face well enough to
realise that there was more than a cursory interest at stake
here.
    “Pendlebury was the last person to be seen with Samson,” he
said quietly.
    Ben went
cold. “Do you think Pendlebury killed Samson?”
    “I don’t
know,” Barnaby sighed. “But it is a possibility we cannot discount
right now. One thing is for certain, if Julian Pendlebury cannot
come up with details of his sister’s whereabouts then we have to
assume she is dead too I am afraid. At least until we can find
proof otherwise.”
    Ben’s
hand shook as he drained the last of his brandy in one gulp. It
burned its way down to his stomach and left him feeling slightly
sick, but he couldn’t think about that right now. His mind had just
gone blank.
    “What
are the chances of that being a reality?” He didn’t want to know
but had to ask.
    “I am
not saying that has definitely happened to her. It just looks
suspicious that she disappears around the same time that Samson’s
body turns up,” Barnaby replied.
    “And
Pendlebury was the last person to be seen with Samson,” Marcus
added.
    “Oh
God,” Ben whispered, his voice heavy with pain.
    Marcus
sighed. “We have heard a rumour that Pendlebury was refused credit
at the Riverside Club. If either man borrowed money from Trent and
they can’t repay it, their chances of getting away unscathed are
not good. I am just not sure whether Trent would kill them or
anyone connected to them. For what purpose?” Barnaby reasoned. He
was alarmed at just how white Ben had gone, and felt sorry for him.
“Trent is a gambling man. As far as we can tell, he isn’t a
killer.”
    “Trent
could have taken Lizzie to make sure Julian paid him what he was
due,” Ben whispered. He studied the

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