by Sarah Dunant
‘Of course I can’t prove to you he didn’t kill her any more than you can prove he did. All I can tell you is what happened. When I arrived it was clear we had to do something. Even for Jules the police couldn’t have kept it quiet. The scandal would have destroyed him. Him and the company. He asked me for advice and I gave it. And if you’re looking for a villain this is where you’ll find him. I persuaded him not to go to the authorities, but to let me handle it instead. I told him that not only would the scandal destroy him, but it wouldn’t do her any good either. She was dead. Nothing we could do would bring her back. This way she would just be a talented young girl who’d made a mistake and couldn’t cope with the consequences. A tragic accident, someone for us all to pity. You know as well as I do that she would never have been treated so generously if the truth had come out.
‘Except Jules couldn’t let it rest. If Mathilde were honest she would tell you the same thing. I think he was almost half-waiting to be found out. Or informed upon.’ He glanced at her. ‘As it is he did what he could. I don’t think he was under any illusions that the money would make any difference. But at least it would keep her name alive. You look puzzled, Hannah. Let me guess? Mathilde hadn’t got round to mentioning the details of Jules’s will. So you wouldn’t know that it includes an anonymous donation to set up a bequest for young dancers. To be named the Carolyn Hamilton bequest. Really quite a lot of money. He asked that Miss Patrick be approached to administer it. I don’t know whether or not she’ll accept. As I said, nothing he could do could bring her back. But in the end she was already dead. All we did was move the body. It just felt better for everyone that way.’
He stopped. I felt a little like a Roman emperor called upon to decide which Christian the lion would get for dinner. My thumb was itching but I couldn’t be sure it would point the right way. I knew what I felt, but I also knew better than to trust it. When it came down to it I was tired of peeling this onion, tired of trying to decide if the tears were real or just a reaction to the spray. Maybe my client held the answer. She, after all, had been the one who was willing to pay to uncover the truth. Except, contrary to cliché, the pursuit of truth is not always the same as the pursuit of justice. And right at this moment she wasn’t looking so good. I could see the rage building up in her, but could I also detect apprehension? Having Daniel here with us now had not been part of the plan. She was gathering herself up for an assault when he cut in on her. And for Daniel it was an unexpectedly bitter tone.
‘No, wait a minute, maybe I should rephrase that last thought. It wasn’t better for everyone. There was one person who didn’t gain anything from hushing it up. I wonder, amid all the stories, did Mathilde ever tell you the one about her and Jules? About how they got together in the first place? No? Shame. It’s a deeply romantic little tale. She was seeing another man at the time, quite a passionate affair I gather, but then she just kept having to deliver translations to the boss’s office and one day—well, it was fate really, he had to notice her sooner or later. Of course he wasn’t entirely stupid. A much older man and a beautiful younger woman. He knew it probably wasn’t mutual love at first sight. He also knew what a financial catch he was, particularly since it was clear even then he wasn’t going to live very long. But he’d fallen for her and he’d also fallen for the idea of a child. Nevertheless he was persuaded into protecting himself just a little. Before they married he asked her to sign a pre-nuptial settlement. She didn’t mention that either? It must have slipped her mind. It said that if they had a child she would inherit a third of his fortune. The other two thirds would be split between myself and the child, with the two of us as equal guardians of his or her portion until he or she came of age. However, if there was no child the bulk of the money would go to me. She would get a small, but not by most people’s standards inconsiderable allowance in perpetuity. But it didn’t quite work out as she planned. For what I imagine must be the first time in her life her body let her down. Never mind. Jules was still besotted. He came up with an alternative. And this was where Carolyn came in. She was employed to have the baby for both of them and then to disappear. The world would think it belonged to Mathilde and Jules would go along with it. When he died the money would go to her. But if there was no baby, then, alas, we revert to plan B, and Mathilde would become just a well-heeled English translator with fantasies of luxury. Of course when it did go wrong she did have something on her side, something to sell. Information: the sort of story that a newspaper would love to buy. But she was not exactly an innocent bystander herself, and even she didn’t have the nerve to try to blackmail her own husband. However, after he’d gone, and if the story could be made juicy enough, then there might be someone willing to pay to keep it quiet. Someone who would by then have a great deal to lose.
‘And that is where you come in, Hannah. You were employed to squeeze some more juice out of the orange. To get Mathilde what she needed. Well, now she’s got it. As of an hour ago, with the exception of generous bequests to herself, Agnes and Maurice and a lesser one to the family doctor, Daniel Devieux inherited most of the Belmont fortune.’
He paused for a moment. Beside me I felt Mathilde shaking, but whether with fury or fear it was hard to tell. Certainly if she had anything to say in her own defence now was the time to say it. The silence lingered. Daniel snorted softly. ‘Which, as you can see, brings us neatly back to where we started. So, what do you want to do, Mathilde? Phone the police or talk about what it’s worth? Because with this report in your hands it’s all up for grabs. You too, Hannah. Don’t let yourself be cut out of this. It’s your information as well, you earned it. This could be your big chance to get out of security. Don’t be squeamish about the morality. Your employer won’t be, believe me. As I said, she has an unerring eye for where the money is. I can bear witness to that. Because I was where the money was for a while. Before she walked into Jules’s office and saw the light dance up in his eyes. Come on, Mathilde. It never suited you to be the demure wife. Let’s start talking.’
Now, at last, I turned and looked at her. The trembling had ceased. She was sitting instead like a statue of serenity, those lovely legs crossed into a long slender line, her hands clasped together on her lap. Whatever was going on inside, it was now safely under lock and key. She glanced up at me and gave me a big smile. It was the action of a pragmatist, not a woman to be troubled by moral ambiguities. ‘I’m so sorry you had to listen to all that, Hannah, I’m sure you have better things to do with your time. You’ve done a marvellous job. You should be very proud of yourself. If you just let me know how much we owe you, you can be on your way.’
She was still smiling, so I smiled back. In the end it was altogether fitting that the one woman who claimed to be desperate for a child didn’t really want one at all. So what did you expect, Hannah? That someone somewhere in this grimy little tale would really turn out to be a hero? Or, more importantly, a heroine. Instead it was more a question of degrees of corruption, morality as a rubber band, with everyone rejoicing in its elasticity. Carolyn had needed eight thousand pounds, but she’d been willing to take sixty if she could get away with fraud. Belmont didn’t see why he shouldn’t buy anything and everything he couldn’t legitimately have. And in the end Mathilde wanted to be in on the deal too, so that she could use it to carve out her own empire. Agnes, Maurice and the doctor could be explained by a mixture of loyalty and greed. And Daniel…well, Daniel had watched from the sidelines and then moved in to clear up the mess. Sure he was fond of his uncle, grateful for all the things he had done for him. But it was also in his interests to inherit a company free from scandal, and he must have known that he’d be well rewarded for his pains. So there they were, the complete character list, untarnished by moral principles. Which left me sporting my threadbare idealism like a pair of flared trousers. But everyone has to grow up some time. How much could I ask? What did I need? A new car? An apartment? All I’d have to do was not think of her each time I put the key in the lock. Because Danie
l was right. She was dead, and nothing I could do was going to bring her back. You know what, Hannah, Frank’s voice sighed like the sea in my ear, either way this could be the biggest mistake of your life. ‘My bill is in an envelope inside the folder,’ I said quietly.
She stared at me for a moment, then pulled out the envelope and glanced inside. ‘This seems altogether too modest. You’re sure there isn’t something you’ve forgotten?’
Like a couple of noughts, you mean. I tried again. I parted my lips to say something, to construct some suitably shadowy, ambivalent sentence that would lead me later to dazzle my bank manager and buy Frank that gold nameplate he’s always dreamed of, but the words wouldn’t form and even if they had I wouldn’t have been able to get my tongue out from the taste of bile at the bottom of my mouth. Damn it. Not so much a moral problem as a physical one. Principles as a Pavlovian response. God help you, Hannah. It’s good you’re freelance, because you’d never make a cop. It had even got to Frank in the end. Yeah, well, there had to be some reason why I worked with him, didn’t there? ‘Thanks,’ I said, the bile sliding away with the saliva. ‘But I’ll just take what I’m owed.’
‘Of course,’ she said quickly. She stood up and smoothed down her dress, then held out a hand towards me. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I think I am needed inside…’ I left the hand floating there, five perfect little nails flashing crimson in the sunlight. She didn’t seem to mind. She turned. ‘Daniel—perhaps you’d settle up with Hannah and say our goodbyes. I’ll see you later.’ My last view of her was that gorgeous figure gliding its way inside the French windows on the way to charm a few more ageing professionals. Despite it all you had to admire her confidence.
Which left Daniel and me. He picked up my bill where she had let it fall on the table, looked down at it and up at me. And it was a very warm look, no curtains across it. Something in my stomach curdled. ‘I’m surprised. And you led me to believe that you practised a sliding scale, at least when it came to expenses.’ I shrugged. He took a small wad of naked-breasted notes out of his pocket and handed them to me. It seemed altogether too crude to count them. Then he leant over, pulled the report out of its folder and started slowly to tear it into small pieces. It made a rasping angry sound. And as he tore he said, ‘Of course, we both understand that what I’m doing is just theatre. That you’ve already made copies of this, and that those copies are somewhere safe in case anything should ever happen to you. That way you are protected from me, although not necessarily me from you. But that’s a chance I just have to take.’ He gathered up the bits and let them fall back into the envelope which he handed to me. This time our fingers touched. ‘I said this once before to you, Hannah. You didn’t believe it then, so there’s no reason for you to believe it now. I’m sorry. If we could have done it any other way…As you probably know now, I’ve not always been the greatest judge of women. However, this time it feels like my loss.’ And then at last he smiled, a big wide grin devoid of any guilt or restraint. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to add, but if you ever need a job…’
And it was so exquisite, so much the stuff that myth is made of that I knew it to be both true and at the same time a gross lie. Like the rest of this whole bizarre tale. It didn’t matter that much anyway. Happy endings were not what we were talking about.
I think I may have smiled back. Then I gathered up my bag, got up and walked away. Only this time I went out through the front gates. They clanged shut behind me. In the distance I heard the dogs barking in their kennels.
EPILOGUE
The news of the bursary hit the papers six weeks later. Miss Patrick, to my surprise, agreed to be the administrator. I wrote a note congratulating her. She sent me a short, polite reply. The French press spent a while speculating on the future of the Belmont empire now the dashing young Daniel was at the helm (with rather more shares than many thought good for him, certainly more than they had expected Belmont to leave him) but in general the business consensus was that it was in safe hands. They were a little more excited when two weeks later it was announced that Daniel had given a half of the Belmont estate to Jules’s widow, the very lovely young Mathilde Belmont. There were some photographs of her looking positively scrumptious in some very expensive outfits, but, alas, she was not available for comment.
As timing goes that would have been the moment; such sweet symmetry. Well, you didn’t really think I’d let sentiment get completely in the way of business, did you? But in the end you can’t accuse an international tycoon of being an accessory to possible murder or his beautiful young aunt of covering up for him when you don’t have any proof at all. And the saddest thing of all was that I didn’t. Even assuming that Agnes and Maurice could be persuaded not to perjure themselves to keep alive the flame of the dead hero, the medical report could have belonged to anyone, Carolyn Hamilton’s body had been cremated two days after the inquest and the pathologist’s samples, in particular those darling little French water diatoms which could have brought down an empire, had all been chucked down the sink a week later. I can’t say I was surprised. How disappointed I was I’ve yet to decide. Interesting I wasn’t the only one to have checked. Apparently a man with an American accent had been making inquiries a couple of weeks before. So he had known all along. Well, I would hate to have thought he was more stupid than I. Or less diligent. What do they say about relationships? That the best ones are based on equality. And fantasy.
Frank refused to give me another job until I told him what happened. So I gave him a version of the truth. He seemed satisfied. I was about to go shopping with an Israeli heiress when I got some free vouchers through the post. Apparently my name had been picked out from a thousand others and I had won fifteen thousand air miles with any company of my choice. It was postmarked West London, no address. What was it a good-looking man in a suit once said to me? That every airline owes something to Belmont Aviation. I must admit I found it harder to refuse than money. In the end I compromised. I ditched the princess, tore up half the vouchers and booked myself a round trip to the Galapagos Islands. Well, I had earned a holiday and a woman in evolution needs to be reminded of what happens when you get stranded in one place too long…
About the Author
Sarah Dunant has written eight novels, including The Birth of Venus and three Hannah Wolfe novels: Birth Marks; Fatlands, for which she received Britain’s prestigious Silver Dagger Award; and Under My Skin. She has worked widely in print, television, and radio. Now a full-time writer, she lives in London and Florence.