by Anne Morice
Serena gave careful consideration to this absolution and then said:
‘I never expected I should have to defend myself against a charge of murder, still less to set myself up as a candidate for one, but there is something you have overlooked. The situation had changed. He was determined that the child should be brought up here. It must have made a difference.’
‘But Tessa doesn’t believe that Lindy would have co-operated in that plan, do you, Tess?’
‘No. I grant you that a few more bracing talks with Dr Soames might have carried her through to the point where natural maternal instincts took over, though personally I believe that once back in the bosom of her analyst all that would have come unstuck. Whether it did or not, I still can’t see her consenting to live at Chargrove. She had a horror of the place, for which I’d be the last to blame her and she’d have been a complete fish out of water. I bet you anything that once they were back in America she’d have worked on Pelham until he dropped the idea. Don’t you think I’m right?’
‘Who except you would believe me if I said I did? And if they believed it of me, they certainly wouldn’t of Primrose. She is not noted for her powers of perception.’
‘Primrose knew nothing whatever about the baby. You made us promise not to tell her.’
‘One of you could have broken your word.’
‘Who? Not either of us. If Pelham or Lindy had done so, which is highly unlikely, it could only have been sometime this morning, and you would certainly have noticed the effect at lunch time. She wouldn’t have taken that bit of news in her stride. I can also tell you that she came and sat in my room last night, after the rest of you had gone to bed, and I swear on my oath that she hadn’t heard a whisper of it. The whole trend of her conversation was based on her future life at Chargrove. She is not noted for her powers of deception either. Furthermore, you’ll recall that she was up and away and out of the house this morning before the others came down. There simply wouldn’t have been an opportunity for either of them to have told her.’
‘And all this is to come out in a court of law? Is that what you’re hinting?’
‘Not necessarily,’ Robin said. ‘Unlikely, in fact, but there is the inquest to be faced and possibly other enquiries as well. I simply wanted you to see for yourself that your best protection is in telling the truth.’
Serena gave us both a long, speculative look before saying quietly:
‘Leaving nothing out?’
‘That’s up to you, isn’t it? No point in dragging out past history, unless it happens to be relevant to the present.’
Her look hardened, but she said no more and I could hardly blame her, for at that moment you could have knocked me cold with a bootlace. The last thing I had ever expected to hear was Robin urging a witness to conceal evidence and I could only conclude that it was his method of paying out another inch or two of rope.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
1
It was the same coroner as before and this time he was taking no chances. Having had it spelt out for them, the jury dutifully returned a verdict of suicide while the balance of the mind was disturbed.
Pelham, who, without explanation had removed himself to London two days beforehand, came back for it and was the first witness to be called after the ballistics expert had said his piece. He was given an easy passage and no allusions were made to the folly of leaving loaded firearms around where the possessors of disturbed minds could get at them. Serena was taken through the events leading up to Lindy’s disappearance, which she told in the same words as she used to us, and Mrs Thorne described how she had found the suicide note.
The proceedings closed with the court’s sympathy being extended to the bereaved family, and Primrose and Jake, who had been sitting a little apart from the rest of us, followed behind in Jake’s car to West Lodge, where we all had tea.
Robin had also returned for the occasion and, looked at with a dispassionate eye, it was a macabre little scene; six adult people crowded into Serena’s doll’s house parlour, being waited on by a seventh and one of them a double murderer.
Afterwards, Jake and Primrose drifted hand in hand back to the stables and Robin declared himself ready to set off to London. However, I told him that I had agreed to stay for one more night. In fact, I was under an obligation to do so, for Pelham was also staying overnight, in order to pack up Lindy’s belongings and arrange for them to be shipped to her family in the States, and Serena could not face spending an evening alone with him. Naturally, I did not explain all this in front of the others and, as there was also another small matter I wished to discuss with him in private, I put on a wifely expression and went out to the car to see Robin off.
When I returned, Pelham, who had made a good start on the whisky, said he would be happy to give me a lift to London in the morning. There were various reasons why I did not intend to accept this offer, but as I could find no words to express them inoffensively, I thanked him and allowed the problem to await the inspiration of the morning.
How much of the evening Serena would have been forced to spend alone with him, had I not been there, was also open to question, but in the event he hardly appeared at all, refusing even to come down to dinner, although prudently taking the whisky bottle upstairs to his room.
He and I did not meet again until I had gone up myself and was passing the door of the nursery bathroom as he came out of it.
‘What have you been doing in there?’ I asked rather thoughtlessly, and also unwisely as it happened, for the question put him into quite a fury:
‘Don’t you ever stop asking damn silly questions? And has it escaped your vigilant eye, Miss N. Parker, that the plumbing amenities are in very short supply in this matriarchal establishment? The other bathroom happens to be occupied and, being so sharp, you may have noticed that it is blowing a gale outside, as well as pouring with rain.’
The sarcasm was so leaden that I did not attempt to counter it. His lower lip, turned down in its habitual pout, was actually trembling and I reckoned that only a little baiting would be enough for him to hit me or burst into tears. However, he did not omit to give my ear a half hearted tweak before he turned away, suggesting that he would not remain inconsolable for ever. On the other hand, he was patently slightly drunk, so perhaps it was a mistake to place too much significance on the gesture.
While I was taking my turn in the bathroom, I heard a slapping, rustling sound from the nursery, followed by a loud click, both of which were repeated several times at irregular intervals. However, I did not allow myself to slide into the grip of mortal terror for more than a second or so, for common sense soon informed me that the noises did not emanate from Nannie’s ghost tramping around the nursery, but from the aforementioned elements. Sure enough, when I nerved myself to investigate I found that the dormer window had not been properly secured on its bar and that with each gust of wind that slammed it shut the curtains ceased their merry billowing and flapped back against the panes.
The fact that these sounds had been so clearly audible in the room beyond, combined with a half forgotten observation of Lindy’s, and a much more recent one from Pelham, crystallised an idea which had been hovering in my mind for some time and encouraged me to try an experiment. Unfortunately, it was one which needed an accomplice and I did not much fancy either Pelham or Serena in this role. Luckily there was a substitute of sorts close at hand and I went up to the shelf to inspect it. It appeared to be in working order, so the next job was to dig out the pile of old records from the toy cupboard and select the one most suitable for the purpose, which happened to be Bob Newhart’s monologue about the driving instructor. I put it on the turntable, set the needle in place and, as soon as the record started, nipped back to the bathroom, taking care to shut both doors behind me.
It was a long time since I had heard that particular sketch and I had forgotten how funny it was. Some of the lines actually forced me to stifle my laughter, but the real reward was that I could hear every word
as plainly as though the record was playing in the same room. Ten out of ten to Mr Newhart, and A plus to me, for I now knew beyond all doubt who had committed the murders and why.
Regrettably, however, this complacent mood was soon dashed for on returning to the nursery I found that someone had arrived there ahead of me. She was standing with her back to the door, bending over the gramophone, whose arm was now slithering about in the centre of the record, and when she turned round I saw that she had a carving knife in her hand.
2
There were doubtless a number of ways in which I could have dealt with the situation, but not for a fraction of a second did I hesitate to take the cowardly one. It was a simple matter of reflex to withdraw to the landing, slam the door shut and bolt for the stairs. Gathering momentum, I sped past Pelham’s door, then Serena’s, took the second flight at a gallop and had streaked through the hall and out of the front door in thirty seconds flat.
It had stopped raining, but the wind was still blowing fiercely enough to snatch most of my dwindling store of breath and almost knock me off balance. Mercifully, there was only a short distance to go, for Robin’s car was parked at the prearranged spot on the main drive and he was sitting inside it, looking excessively bored.
‘I thought I told you to stay in your room and lock the door?’ he said when I had staggered up to the car and flopped into the passenger seat. ‘I’d have seen your light perfectly well if you’d signalled, as we arranged.’
I was still out of breath and had a stitch in my side, so for once he was able to continue uninterrupted, which he proceeded to take advantage of, in a somewhat aggrieved fashion:
‘If only you’d stick to the schedule! You gave me a heart attack, leaping out of the darkness like that.’
Still no answer and the novelty of the situation may have begun to pall, for he said crossly:
‘You’re not hurt or anything, are you?’
‘No, just puffed. Getting better though.’
‘Okay, take your time.’
‘That’s just what I can’t do, nor you either. We must get back there as fast as we can. She might go berserk.’
I described my experiment and how I had literally been caught in the act and when Robin had gathered up a few items from the back seat we set forth at a brisk trot through the wind and darkness to West Lodge.
‘Do you think she grasped what you were up to, Tess?’ he asked, as we paused for a breather under the porch.
‘May have. She’s known me long enough. I daresay she’s caught on to how my mind works by now.’
‘All the same . . .’
‘Yes, I know. She must have armed herself with the knife before she came upstairs and she couldn’t have heard the record until she got there, so that can’t have been the cause.’
‘Which means it was premeditated. In that case, I can’t quite see what all the hurry is about. Who else might be in danger? Not Primrose?’
‘Oh no, not Primrose. She isn’t even here. At least she hadn’t come in when I left.’
‘Well, that’s something. It looks as though we’ll have enough problems on our hands without that one. Would you prefer to stop here for a bit, while I go and sort her out?’
‘Oh no, I expect she’ll have cooled down by now, and I can always cower behind you if it gets rough.’
‘Mind your back then!’ Robin said, pushing open the front door and walking ahead of me into the hall.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
‘I never meant to harm you,’ Serena was saying five minutes later. ‘I do wish I could make you believe that, though I’m afraid it’s impossible.’
We had moved into the kitchen, possibly because all three of us had felt instinctively that the carving knife, now reposing on the table, would look more at home there than among the silks and snuff boxes of the parlour.
‘I do believe you, as a matter of fact,’ I told her.
‘Oh, Tessa, do you really? How wonderful to hear that! You can’t imagine the relief, and I can see you mean it. You know that I could never, never have been so wicked. You’ve always been such a true friend, more like my own daughter.’
‘It is all very well for you two, splashing about in your bath of tears,’ Robin complained, ‘but perhaps one of you could explain to me what Serena was doing in Tessa’s room with a dangerous weapon in her hand?’
‘I don’t know,’ Serena said, sinking into depression again. ‘It was inexcusable, wasn’t it?’
‘To put it mildly, although possibly you have the excuse ready?’
‘I must have been mad, that’s the best I can think of. It’s been such an awful time, I’ve hardly slept at all and that made me even more confused. Everything seemed to go from bad to worse and I didn’t dare imagine where it might end. It frightened me so much that I was half out of my mind.’
‘Not bad,’ Robin conceded, ‘but I doubt if it would get you far in a criminal court. You still haven’t explained how you came to be so confused as to regard Tessa as your enemy.’
‘I hadn’t, but I was afraid, was sure in fact, that she’d found out the whole dismal truth.’
‘Ah!’
‘Don’t say “Ah” in that tone, Robin. I know very well what it implies, but you’re wrong. I only wanted to try and persuade her to keep quiet for my sake. I had somehow to make her understand that it had all been my fault and that I was prepared to pay for it for the rest of my life; that it would be the reverse of justice if there were to be a trial.’
‘And if you had failed to convince her, which seems rather likely on the face of it?’
‘Well yes, I suppose I must admit it. If I had failed I really did have some crazy idea of using the knife as a threat, pretending I would scar her face, so that she could never act again, or something equally terrible,’ Serena moaned, covering her eyes with her hands. ‘It’s too degrading to be borne, but you have my solemn word that I would never have carried it out. It was only a threat, because I was so desperate.’
‘Yes, I believe you,’ I said again.
‘To be fair, so do I,’ Robin admitted. ‘Oh yes, Serena, you’ve done it again. The fact is you could have invented a perfectly plausible excuse for being on the attic floor with a knife, if you weren’t so damned truthful. You had only to claim that you’d heard a man’s voice, feared Tessa might be in danger and were trying to protect her. The trouble with you is that your lies take the form of omissions, rather than inventions, and you’re not even very clever about those.’
Serena’s expression reflected a strong desire to declare that she had not come here to be insulted, but evidently realising that such an attitude would be untenable, quickly changed it to one of resignation.
‘I know. I’m not particularly deceitful by nature and I hate having to lie. The role has been forced on me.’
‘Ever since the Thorne boy died?’
She nodded: ‘Almost twenty years ago. You’d think I’d have got better at it by now.’
‘You knew from the beginning who was responsible?’
‘No, although I had the most agonising doubts. It wasn’t until Primrose started getting nightmares and talking in her sleep that the truth dawned on us and Nannie and I made a pact never to reveal it to anyone. I was terrified, as you can imagine; terrified to think what sort of monster I had given birth to, terrified of Nannie’s new hold over us, but terrified most of all that the truth would leak out and we should all be cruelly punished.’
‘Might that not have been better in the end? She could have had psychiatric treatment and got the demons exorcised.’
Serena shook her head: ‘I don’t know, Robin. I expect you’re right, events have proved that you are, but it’s no use asking me questions like that now. One does what one thinks is best at the time and that’s all there is to it. I suppose I had pinned my hopes on the demons being pushed out of sight until they were buried and forgotten. She was very young, you know, only six years old and the memory might have faded, just as the nightmares d
id. Besides, it wasn’t only ourselves I was thinking of, there was Rupert too. In a way, it would have been like defiling his memory if it had come out that his child had behaved in such a sadistic way.’
‘Weren’t you afraid she might do it again, to some other child?’ I asked.
‘No, Alan was a unique case, and so was the provocation. When I spoke of her being a monster, I was giving you the worst construction; there is another, more presentable side to the medal. I’ve told you already that Alan was a thoroughly nasty child and whenever he knew for certain that neither his mother nor Nannie could hear he used to tease Primrose unmercifully. I knew it and I should have put a stop to it, along with all the other things I should have done, but she was so cut off from other children that I persuaded myself that even this companionship was healthier than none at all. However, there was another element, far more serious which, God help me, I was never aware of until she started having those bad dreams.’
‘He had told her who his father was?’ I suggested.
‘Yes, or rather the version which was popularly accepted. He was a year or two older than her, you see, and bright, in spite of being so small and spindly, and along with all the other half truths he’d picked up some distorted facts about the entail. Evidently he had taunted her with them, saying that when they grew up he would be the master of the big house and she would be his slave. Being slow witted and inarticulate, she was no match for him with words.’
‘So she hit back with deeds,’ Robin said, making it a statement, not a question.
‘Yes, and I don’t pretend that anything excuses it, but you must hear all the facts before you condemn her utterly. You see, I am positive that tying Alan to the tree started simply as a prank, to pay him out for tormenting her, and that she fully intended to release him when it came to his dinner time. Unfortunately, Nannie caught up with her in the interval and after that she never let Primrose out of her sight until we set off for the party. And you’ll remember that when we arrived there it was fixed that they should both stay the night. I am convinced to this day that if we had all returned that evening, as planned and learnt that Alan was missing, Primrose would have owned up and he would have suffered nothing worse than a bad cold and a bad fright. But, in fact, our kind hosts insisted on keeping her with them until after the funeral. Everyone was so intent on sparing her feelings that not a word was breathed about Alan in her hearing and, personally, I am certain that if she remembered the incident at all she believed that he had been found and was safe and well. When she came home and, little by little, discovered the truth, she must have been demented with fear and it has warped her to this day. That is my firm belief and nothing you can say will shake me out of it.’