Honeymoon with Death

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Honeymoon with Death Page 10

by Vivian Conroy


  She looked at her hands. At her wedding ring. “Teddy hasn’t come to see me at all. I think he doesn’t love me any more.” She knotted her fingers. “With the beetles he already thought I was going crazy.”

  “If you were committed to an asylum, would he have control of your money?”

  She turned her head to look at him. How did Jasper know about the money?

  He seemed to take her confusion for not understanding his question because he rushed to clarify: “You are married now. If you weren’t capable of managing your own money, assuming you have some, of course – savings in the bank or the like – would your husband have control of it?”

  “I never had a chance to save much.” She waited a moment. “What are you driving at?”

  “You said your husband assumed you were going mad. I just want to know what would happen in case he could convince others that that was indeed the case.”

  She jumped to her feet. The dog backed up. She snapped at Jasper. “Go away! Go away! You horrible man. Teddy would never… He loves me!”

  Jasper took her by her shoulders. “A minute ago you said he doesn’t love you any more.”

  She stared into his eyes. Then she burst into tears and fell into his arms. “I don’t know any more. I don’t know anything any more.”

  Jasper held her, clumsily patting her on the back and saying, “Now, now, don’t cry.” Then he lowered her into her chair again. He looked her over. “You mustn’t upset yourself.”

  “Still, you came out here to talk to me.”

  “Yes.” He seated himself again. “I can’t afford to waste any time.”

  She sucked in breath. “Is Teddy making arrangements to have me committed?”

  “No. But there is a murder investigation going on.” Jasper waited a moment. “You were found beside a dead body.”

  “I know.” As she said it, ice filled her stomach. If she couldn’t remember having walked to the beach, would it also be possible she couldn’t remember having stabbed the woman? Could you do something so horrible and inhuman and not remember at all?

  “The knife used to stab her came from the cafe you went to,” Jasper said.

  “So you think I picked it up there and took it along to kill this old woman? Why?”

  “She had told your husband you were betraying him.”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t know that?”

  “No. How could I?”

  “Your husband cried out at you last night claiming you were cheating on him. Perhaps you asked him later, when the two of you were alone, how he got to thinking that, and he told you about the old woman.”

  “No, not at all.” Damaris bit down hard on her lip. “I didn’t know.”

  Jasper sat beside her, too close for her liking. She had the impression he wanted to feel every emotion that rushed through her as he questioned her. She wanted to get up again and snap at him and call him names for thinking she could be a murderer, but the cold inside wouldn’t let her.

  What if she was?

  Jasper said, “With your husband’s testimony that the old woman told him about your supposed infidelity, there is a link between you and her. A reason for you to kill her.”

  “And that’s why you think Teddy wants to have me committed? Why – if I’m going to be locked up anyway and tried for murder?” She said it in a daring tone, trying to drown out the panic swirling inside.

  “That makes little sense, but maybe your husband first wanted to make you look crazy and then decided to frame you for murder. Either way he’d have your money.”

  “That can’t be because…” She bit her lip. “I don’t have any money to speak of, really. I mean, when Teddy met me and we got to know each other, I was just a typist with a dreary job and a small flat. He didn’t know I had anything worthwhile.”

  Jasper looked at her. “I don’t follow. You say you have no money to speak of. Then you say he didn’t know you had any. Does that mean you do?”

  “When we met and got engaged and married, he thought I was poor. I thought I was poor.” Damaris licked her lips. “I only learned about the money the other day.”

  Jasper slapped his hand on his knee. “The official-looking man. Mr Fennick.”

  “You know?”

  “The girl who sits at the reception desk told me about him. She called him official-looking. She didn’t know who he was, though, or what he was here for. Just the name. I was planning to look into that. But you can tell me right now.”

  He held Damaris’s gaze. “Did he come to tell you of an inheritance? Can your husband have known a relative of yours was dying and you’d be a rich woman soon? You told me you married quite quickly.”

  “No, it wasn’t an inheritance. It was completely unexpected. I had never known and no one else could have known. Mr Fennick said so.” Damaris told Jasper word for word what Fennick had told her.

  Jasper listened attentively, then said, “I want to talk to Fennick myself and ask him if he is sure your husband can’t have known about it.”

  Damaris was barely listening. She thought of the scene last night and then Teddy’s tears this morning and her offer of money to him, his joy and surprise and then his need to act on it right away. Had he not been surprised at all? Had he known? Had he pretended to be crying and upset to get money out of her?

  She wanted to run inside and find him, ask him, beg him to deny it.

  But why let him know she was on to him? He would lie, might even call her crazy to think that far.

  Bitterness welled up inside as she said to Jasper, “So you see, I never had any money to speak of when he married me. But I do now.” And he dipped his hand into the pot the first chance he got.

  Jasper said, “I’ll look into it for you first thing tomorrow. It could be important.”

  “How come?” Damaris said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I made no will. If I die, my money goes to my relatives. My aunt. Not to Teddy.”

  “I see. Maybe he planned on persuading you to leave it all to him during this honeymoon? A beautiful island… the moon up above…”

  “I’m sure Mr Fennick wouldn’t let me. He didn’t want Teddy present when he told me the news.” But stupidly she had told Teddy anyway. And right afterwards something dreadful had happened.

  Had he killed the old woman to let her take the blame? But why? He couldn’t get her money that way.

  Jasper said, “I think I want to speak with Mr Fennick right now. Can you give me his telephone number?”

  “Of course.” She gave him the card the lawyer had provided her with and Jasper walked off, leaving his dog with her. Red put his head on her knee and gave her a soulful look. Damaris patted him, telling him he was a good boy.

  Her mind tried to determine whether Teddy could have run from the cafe to the beach ahead of her to kill the woman and make sure she was dead when she got there. But why had she knelt at the body? Held the knife?

  It made no sense. She was afraid of blood. She should have run screaming.

  Jasper came back, his expression dark. “I can’t talk to Fennick right now.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s in bed with a fever. Delirious. They think it’s sunstroke, but they are not sure. A hired nurse is tending him at his hotel.”

  Damaris stared up at Jasper. “Sunstroke? But I can’t imagine him walking about where he might be overexposed to sun.’

  Jasper shrugged. “The heat can be too much for an elderly gentleman. The trouble is, I can’t ask him now about the trust and the people who might have known about it.”

  “I asked him and he said only his father had known. But his father died several years ago. The arrangements were in a sealed envelope in a safe.”

  Jasper pursed his lips. “I’d like to ask more questions about that. But I can’t now.”

  How convenient, Damaris thought, and she felt a chill brush her spine. What was going on? Who was behind all this? What did that person want?

  Most of all,
how far were they willing to go to get it?

  Chapter Ten

  Jasper rang the bell, tapping his foot on the boards of the house’s neat porch. The previous night after the conversation in the walled garden he had asked Mrs Ramsforth who the people were she had been with that morning, and she had given him their names and address.

  Gideon Hawtree.

  Again Jasper sensed that the name rang a bell in the back of his head, but infuriatingly it didn’t want to materialise.

  The door opened, and a woman looked at him. She wore a tight soft purple dress with a waterfall neckline and long earrings. No other jewellery. Her make-up was light but flawless.

  “Mrs Hawtree? Is your husband at home?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  “Forgive me. I should have introduced myself first. Jasper. I’m looking into a small matter on behalf of Mr Achilles Kyrioudis. The translator. You may know him?”

  “I’ve heard of him. A small matter?” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Do come in then. It’s clammy outside.”

  As soon as she had let him in, she called for a maid and ordered tea. She took him into a room where the temperature was still pleasant and many plants in pots spread an invigorating outdoor smell. “I love this room. I’d want one in London. But I’m afraid that with the weather there it wouldn’t be quite the same.”

  She gestured to a sofa. “Take a seat. My husband will be down in a moment. He knows I take tea around this time. He’s busy with paperwork.”

  “What does your husband do?”

  She laughed softly. “People always ask me, “What does your husband do?” They never ask what I do.” She held his gaze a moment. “Don’t you think I have half a brain to do something with my life other than pour tea and buy gloves?”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise my question was offensive.”

  She made a dismissive gesture. “Do be careful with that orchid by your side. Part of the reason why we’re here to look after the villa is the care of the plants. They are sensitive and need constant watering, else they lose their blooms overnight. Ah, the tea.”

  She smiled at the maid who came in hurriedly and put the tray on a table. “That’s all right, I’ll pour.”

  She moved around the table gracefully, probably aware how well she looked in the morning light. “Sugar?”

  “No, just plain, please.”

  She smiled at him. “No biscuit, either?”

  “If you insist.”

  “I do.” She handed him his teacup and a biscuit on a separate plate and then said, “One moment, please,” and left the room. He heard her ring a bell.

  She came back in. “I only use that for dinner normally.” She checked her watch. “He’s late.”

  Footfalls resounded in the hallway, and a man burst into the room. “I don’t want your ruddy tea. Oh.” He noticed Jasper and fell silent.

  Mrs Hawtree said with a charming smile, “This is Mr Jasper. He’s here to talk to you about a small matter Mr Kyrioudis engaged him for.”

  “Yes, I had heard he was on the island yesterday.”

  “Really?” Jasper said. “Who told you?”

  “Our gardener,” Mrs Hawtree said. “He’s a terribly garrulous man.” She threw her husband a quick glance as she handed him his tea. “There you are, darling.”

  “And what did Mr Kyrioudis want?” Hawtree asked.

  “For me to solve a murder.”

  Hawtree’s cup slipped to the side, and brown liquid sloshed over the rim onto his trousers. He cursed, his wife rushing to his side with a napkin to dab at his leg.

  “Murder?” she said, as she returned to her place. “How positively terrifying. I thought this place was too pretty for anyone to ever die here.”

  “It was an old woman,” Jasper said. “Close to death one would say, but nevertheless someone helped her along. Stabbed through the heart,”

  “How brutal,” Mrs Hawtree said, and nibbled on a biscuit.

  Her husband sipped his half-spilled tea and didn’t comment.

  Jasper said, “I would like to know if either of you knew the woman.”

  Two faces looked at him, unperturbed.

  Hawtree said, “You haven’t told us who she was.”

  “But even if you did,” his wife added, “her name would mean nothing to us. We don’t associate with the “islanders”, as we call them. We keep to ourselves.”

  “You receive your own countrymen here. Like the Ramsforths.”

  “Such a darling couple,” Mrs Hawtree said. “Newlyweds, too.”

  “Isn’t it a bit awkward,” Jasper remarked casually, “to crowd newlyweds? I heard they were here to dinner two nights ago and then breakfast yesterday morning.”

  “They dropped by while we were having breakfast just to say something we didn’t get a chance of speaking about the night before,” Hawtree said. “Business.”

  “Business while the man is on his honeymoon? His wife can’t have liked it.”

  “She liked the champagne well enough,” Mrs Hawtree said. “She had three glasses. Or was it four? I’m not sure – but she gulped it down like it was water. I suppose I can’t blame her for it. She doesn’t get around much. Has no idea of how sophisticated people behave.”

  “Champagne,” Jasper said, surprised she’d mentioned it. “At that hour of the day?”

  “I might as well tell you,” Hawtree said. “Ramsforth and I were going into business together. I had told him all the details the night before, and he wanted to sleep on it. Having made up his mind, he came to tell me first thing. We were all delighted and opened a bottle.”

  “What kind of business?” Jasper asked.

  Mrs Hawtree said, “My husband is an inventor. We can’t tell you about it yet because there are always people who steal inventions. But it will be big news soon.”

  “I see. And Mr Ramsforth is an inventor as well?”

  “No, he’s backing me.” Hawtree emptied his teacup and held it out to his wife to refill.

  “Ah, he’s an investor.”

  “You could call it that, yes.”

  “And whose money is he investing?”

  “Why, his own of course. He has plenty. His family owns manor houses and race horses. The wedding must have cost a pretty penny as well. Just her dress. And him taking his little wife to this island and all.” Mrs Hawtree clicked her tongue. “Poor girl. Totally out of her depth, if you ask me. Never been anywhere. Not that she can help it, of course. But I told her after dinner the other night she’ll have to change a bit if she wants to fit into our circles. People aren’t kind, you know, to newcomers who aren’t trying. She should at least try.” Mrs Hawtree handed her husband his refilled cup. “Take care, darling, it’s hot.’

  She focused on Jasper again and continued, “We had a little walk in the garden after dinner and she was practically in tears about some silly little thing that had happened at the hotel. Nervous strain if you ask me. I wonder…”

  She seated herself and crossed her legs.

  Jasper stirred his tea even though there was no sugar in it. He looked up slowly. “You wonder, Mrs Hawtree?”

  “Yes. She didn’t seem comfortable. Poor girl. Teddy is showering her with gifts and this trip. She’s not used to it. It makes her uneasy, and I had the impression she was decidedly unhappy.”

  “Typical of a woman to have a man give her everything her heart desires and then be unhappy,” Hawtree scoffed.

  His wife gave him a reproachful look. “Think about the poor girl’s position. She’s from a modest background, never had a chance to travel, meet people. Now she’s here and it’s all new and exciting, and her husband is making demands on her.”

  “Demands?” Jasper asked.

  “Yes, well, she told me she was quite shocked that he had said they should make wills benefiting each other. Even though she doesn’t have a penny to her name, he did want that, because it’s romantic or proper, or some other nonsense. She thought it was quite mo
rbid. She didn’t want to think about death.” Mrs Hawtree looked at her husband. “Didn’t Teddy mention the wills to you?”

  Hawtree shook his head. “It wouldn’t make sense. Why have her make a will when she doesn’t have anything worth leaving to him?”

  “Indeed,” Jasper said, feeling a renewed wave of annoyance at the fact he couldn’t question Mr Fennick. “So you already knew Mrs Ramsforth back in London? When she wasn’t Mrs Ramsforth yet.”

  “Oh no, we had never heard of her until Teddy got engaged to her,” Mrs Hawtree said. “It was all rather sudden.” She laughed. “I feel terrible admitting this, having come to know her, but you have to know that at first I feared she was some gold-digger after Teddy’s fortune. Then once I had met her I realised she…”

  “Isn’t the type?” Jasper supplied.

  “Doesn’t have the brains for it, or the looks. How could she have snared him even if she had wanted to? No, he saw her and boom! He was lost. Love at first sight.” Mrs Hawtree looked at her husband. “That it even exists…”

  Jasper wondered if this meant the Hawtrees” relationship hadn’t started with love at first sight but of course he couldn’t ask her. Not in the presence of her husband, anyway. He might look for an occasion to speak with her alone. He had a feeling he could get more from her than from the taciturn Mr Hawtree.

  “Your name seemed somehow familiar to me when I heard it,” he said. “Perhaps one of your inventions has already made the news?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” Mr Hawtree rose to his feet. “I must continue with my work. If you have no further questions…”

  “I think not,” Jasper said. He wanted to finish his tea but as Mrs Hawtree had also risen and was with her husband at the door, he could do nothing else but leave.

  * * *

  Gideon spat at his wife: “How could you let him in?”

  “What should I have done? Slam the door shut in his face? You could have acted a little more in control. That tea spill…”

  “He said my name was somehow familiar.” Gideon trembled with anger.

  “What of it?” Robin eyed him.

  Gideon controlled himself with an effort. He couldn’t let her know his brother’s death had been suspicious. She knew of Hector’s death, of course, but not the exact circumstances. He didn’t want to think of what might happen if she found out. He took a deep breath. “Never mind. I just dislike prying people and he’s a prime example of the kind.”

 

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