Hollow Vengeance

by Anne Morice

‘What is?’

  ‘Two, really. The first one, naturally, to find out where he is and get him back, before the police do it for us.’

  ‘And the second?’

  ‘That may be even tougher, seeing how short is the time at our disposal. It is to find and obtain proof of just who did murder Mrs Trelawney.’

  In the days that followed I was able to make my contribution towards furthering both these ends, but, even before the first step along the way had been taken, news had reached us which for the time being pushed even Marc’s danger into the background. Before nine o’clock on Sunday morning we learned that, in the view of at least one person, Mrs Trelawney had claimed her second victim, or third if you counted Daisy, the retriever; only this time from beyond the grave.

  SUNDAY A.M.

  The murder of Mrs Trelawney had received scant attention in the national press, vicious attacks on elderly women living in solitary state being unhappily all too common, and had been greeted by most of her neighbours with indifference or varying degrees of silent relief.

  It was not so with the death, by her own hand, of sixteen-year-old Marigold Hearne, although it was not until Monday morning that the full impact of the Fleet Street invasion began to impinge on the village.

  One of the worst aspects of that shattering event was the manner of its discovery. Soon after dawn on Sunday morning Mrs Hearne, much improved in health and spirits after her three days at the seaside, and mooching about in the long, dewy grass, as was her habit on those days when she felt optimistic enough to haul herself out of bed at all, had perceived what she took to be a sackful of something or other, suspended from the branch of an apple tree.

  Realising as time went by, that this was a strange place for it to be and, furthermore, that someone had been thoughtless enough to leave an upturned kitchen stool directly underneath it, she had moved closer until eventually, with some of the last remnants of sanity which she was to retain for several months, recognised it for what it was.

  She had, in fact, remained just coherent enough to give some sort of wild account of the affair to her husband and elder daughter, but shortly afterwards had collapsed completely and, by the time the news reached Pettits Grange, had been moved back into the psychiatric ward.

  ‘Not wishing to be callous in any way, but perhaps it will at least give us a little breathing space,’ I suggested to Robin, striving to wrest one ray of cheerfulness from this dismal tale. ‘I daresay Inspector Bledlow does not often have to cope with two violent deaths in the space of a few days, so presumably the resources and personnel are somewhat stretched at the moment?’

  ‘And if this one should turn out to be murder and not suicide, they would be stretched still further and you would be more pleased than ever?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that and, in any case, a delay of ten or twelve hours is all I’m asking for.’

  ‘You think Marc will have come back of his own accord by then?’

  ‘I’m not banking on it, but I’ve found one more card in my hand and it just might turn out to be the ace.’

  ‘Really? How did it get there?’

  ‘I’d been puzzling about the style of his departure and I couldn’t make out why he should have gone by train, when he had a perfectly good car to travel in. When we discussed it yesterday we agreed that the police would see it as a desire to dump the car as soon as possible, because without it he would be so much less conspicuous, but you and I know that this cannot be the true explanation. He doesn’t have the least idea that he is wanted for questioning in connection with the murder and therefore it would never have occurred to him that the car could be any sort of hindrance or embarrassment. So the question remains: why go by train?’

  ‘And you believe you have found the answer?’

  ‘I’ve thought of one answer and, if it’s right, it will at least tell us where he is. The trouble is that I can’t put it to the test until I’ve checked out a few points with Millie.’

  ‘So what’s stopping you?’

  ‘There hasn’t been a chance yet. Elsa has snatched her up to go and collect the three youngest Hearne children. She thinks it will be more wholesome for them to spend the day here than being stuck in all that misery at home, and she also thinks she is more likely to get a favourable response to the proposal if she’s accompanied by a member of the younger generation. Personally, I regard it as a great mistake. I mean I quite realise that she’s a compulsive do-gooder and couldn’t stop rushing about and handing out crutches to lame dogs, if she tried, but I think the mistake is in dragging Millie in and trying to make her a part of it. In fact, in my opinion, this close-knit little family unit she strives so hard to weld them all into is defeating its own object. I’m sure the children find it stifling at times and you notice what comes of it? The minute Marc’s love life starts falling about him in ruins, his one ambition is to put as much distance between himself and his mother as he possibly can and to make damn sure she doesn’t find out where he is.’

  ‘Ah well, it’s never hard to see where other people go wrong in bringing up their children. When you have a family of your own, you may find all these clear cut values and opinions becoming a little frayed round the edges.’

  Luckily, I was spared the necessity of having to answer the unanswerable, because at that moment Elsa and Millie walked in, sans Hearne children. The mission, it seemed, had not been an unqualified success, although, according to Elsa, by no means a total failure either.

  ‘At least, poor James had an opportunity to talk and bring it out into the open, which I felt must have done him some good. And Millie was such a brick! She took the children out to the garden and read them a story, so that he and I could be alone for a while. I really do feel that, at a time like this, lending a sympathetic ear is probably the best way to help someone.’

  ‘And where was Diane while all this was going on?’

  ‘At the hospital. They won’t allow her to see her mother, she’s under sedation, but Diane feels she ought to be there, in case she’s needed, so I gather she means to spend the whole day more or less camping out in the waiting room.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you know?’ Millie asked.

  ‘Well, perhaps people react in different ways when they are faced with a catastrophe of this magnitude,’ Elsa said, sounding only mildly reproachful. ‘James was talking rather a lot of twaddle too, but I didn’t take it seriously.’

  ‘What kind of twaddle?’

  ‘Oh, things like how it was God’s will that Marigold should be taken from us; that we should all be so thankful because, however much some people might say that she had sinned in taking her own life, she had died in purity and innocence and would never have to experience all the sorrows and tribulations of a suffering world. Rather nauseating, really, but poor man! I daresay it consoles him to believe such rubbish.’

  ‘So he has no doubt at all that it was suicide?’ Robin asked, with a glance at me.

  ‘Oh, none whatever. After all, what else could it be?’

  ‘And did he have any ideas about why she might have done it?’

  ‘We didn’t go very deeply into that, but I gather he attributes it entirely to this wretched business of having to move out of Orchard House and all the uncertainty of where they will go. I suppose one must accept that he is right. It would scarcely be credible as a rational motive in a normal sixteen-year-old, but presumably Marigold had inherited rather more of her mother’s instability than appeared on the surface.’

  ‘That’s not the view that Matthew and Bernadette take,’ Millie said. ‘I don’t know about Rosie, she’s probably too dim and retarded to take it in, but I wasn’t reading stories all the time, because the other two were also quite keen to talk about Marigold.’

  ‘You mean they’ve been told how she died?’

  ‘They were there when Mrs Hearne came screeching into the house, saying that she’d hanged herself. Diane tried to palm them off with another version later on, told them that Mari
gold had fallen out of a tree, or something, but they aren’t that stupid.’

  ‘So why do they think it wasn’t losing the house that made her do it?’ I asked. ‘What’s their theory?’

  ‘Well, they admit she’d been worried sick about something for the past week or two. In fact, she’d been having screaming nightmares and one morning Bernadette found her lying on her bed, howling; only when she asked her what was the matter, Marigold said she couldn’t tell anyone, it was a secret and anyway they wouldn’t understand and all she wanted was to be left alone.’

  ‘Well, there you are, then!’ Elsa said.

  ‘No I’m not, because, like they said, if it was the house she was worrying about, that was no secret and also she’d got it back to front. That saga has been going on for months now and she’d never appeared to be any more upset than the rest of them, so why should it hit her like this now? With Mrs Trelawney dead, there’s a fair chance that they won’t have to move out, after all, so this is the time for cheering up a bit, not for hanging yourself.’

  ‘And they certainly have a point there,’ I agreed. ‘So what’s their theory?’

  ‘They haven’t got one, or if they have they’re keeping it to themselves. All they know is that Marigold has been getting more and more depressed for about a week now and yesterday afternoon she was in a complete state of jitters. It ended with her refusing to come downstairs for supper, even though it was her mother’s and Diane’s first evening back at home. So would you care to hear what construction I put on it?’

  Elsa looked as though it were quite the last thing she would care to hear and was about to say as much, in paraphrased form, so I jumped in quickly.

  ‘Yes, Millie, I certainly would.’

  ‘I’d say it was all on account of that batty mother. Marigold just couldn’t stand the misery and insecurity of never knowing what kind of mood she was going to be in and what kind of mess it would have landed them in by the end of the day. I expect her coming back yesterday, after three lovely days of freedom, was the last straw and Marigold decided she just couldn’t take any more.’

  I was interested by this assessment which, to my mind, although inadequate as an explanation for suicide, was probably somewhat nearer the mark than the one put forward by James Hearne, and found myself silently eating my own words rather sooner than might have been foreseen. On this occasion, Elsa had unquestionably done the wise thing in involving Millie in her charitable activities. However, I could not spare the time to reflect further on this, any more than on the glimmer of an idea which had now flashed into my mind concerning the murder, because Millie’s disclosures had evidently provided Elsa and Robin with food for thought too, bringing a lull into the conversation and providing me with the chance I had been waiting for.

  ‘Remind me of something, Millie,’ I said. ‘You remember when you were telling your mother and me about Geoffrey taking you to stay with his sister in Somerset?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You said that you went by train and that he and Marc put up at an hotel called the George & Dragon? Right?’

  ‘Right!’

  ‘You wouldn’t happen to remember where it was, the name of the village or town, by any chance?’

  ‘Wouldn’t I, though! It was two or three miles from where Gertrude lived, at a place called Pissminster. Marc and I were of an age to find that frightfully funny. Geoffrey was faintly shocked by our giggles and went into long explanations about how it had something to do with the history of the Church, which made us laugh all the more. That’s how I remember it.’

  ‘And do you think Marc would remember it just as clearly?’

  ‘Oh, sure! One way and another, it made quite an impression.’

  ‘Have you got an AA book, Elsa?’

  ‘Yes, in the drawer of my desk, I think. Do you want me to look up the George & Dragon at Pissminster?’

  ‘It might be worth a try.’

  ‘So that’s where you think Marc might have got to?’ Robin asked.

  ‘It has all the right ingredients, hasn’t it? A place he knows and remembers with affection, and yet at the same time where it wouldn’t occur to anyone to look for him. There can’t be many such, can there? Incidentally, Millie, which station did you travel to when you went there with Geoffrey?’

  ‘Bath. Gertrude met us there in her car and drove us around all the pump rooms and things for about two hours. She and Geoffrey kept quoting bits from Jane Austen, so that’s imprinted on my memory too.’

  ‘And you’re doing very well! Better and better, in fact, because Bath is on the same line as Dedley, which suggests to me that Marc didn’t ditch the car through fear of making himself an easy target, but because this was also to be something in the nature of a sentimental journey and every step along the way had to be an exact copy of the first time, even to going by rail and perhaps having a nostalgic look at Bath on the way. I honestly do think it’s worth a try.’

  ‘I agree with you,’ Elsa said, getting up and leaving the room.

  She was away for a full ten minutes, during which Robin leant sideways, so as to be able to read the Sunday paper without actually picking it up, while Millie yawned at least five times and made a few more inroads on the box of chocolates which he had most ill-advisedly brought her from London.

  ‘Did you ever discover what David Trelawney wanted to see her about?’ I asked.

  ‘No, she said she had enough trouble on her hands, as it was, without taking on his as well, and if it was so damned urgent he could damn well lift the telephone himself. Rather strong words, for her, weren’t they? Anyway, I imagine she forgot the whole thing when she heard about Marigold.’

  ‘I expect so,’ I agreed, ‘and, presumably, it can’t have been so very urgent, after all, since lifting the telephone is what he hasn’t bothered to do.’

  ‘You were quite right, Tessa,’ Elsa said, rejoining us at last. ‘Your intuition or experience, or both, have paid off once again.’

  ‘Hooray! Did you speak to him?’

  ‘No, he was out, but he hasn’t left yet. He told the desk that he’ll be staying until tomorrow morning. I asked them to give him a message. I said they were to tell him not to worry, but there’d been some very bad news and it was essential that he should call me back the minute he comes in.’

  ‘Will he understand why he doesn’t need to worry when the news is so bad?’

  ‘It was the best I could think of. I had to pitch it fairly strong, because the last thing I want is to lose touch with him again, now that we have caught up, but at the same time I was trying to convey that nothing terrible had happened to Millie or me.’

  ‘Perhaps we should let Bledlow know,’ Robin said, dragging his eyes from the newspaper. ‘I imagine he’ll be spending this pleasant Sunday morning in his hot little office.’

  ‘I’ve already done that, Robin. That’s partly what took me so long. I told him . . .’ Elsa broke off, looking sheepish and uncomfortable.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I thought it would sound better if I said that Marc had got in touch with me of his own accord. There couldn’t be any harm in that, could there? Anyway, that’s what I did and I also said that he would be back here this evening.’

  ‘You’re confident he’ll come then?’

  ‘Yes, because I’m not going to mention anything at all about the police until he gets here. When he does call me back I shall simply tell him about Marigold and that’ll do it. He’ll come tearing back by the first train, in case Diane needs him, you see if he doesn’t!’

  ‘Clever thinking!’ I told her. ‘And at least the first of your problems is on the way to being solved. Why aren’t you looking happier about it?’

  ‘What? Oh yes, naturally, I’m happy about it, very happy indeed. It’s just that something else has cropped up and it worries me a little.’

  ‘What now?’

  ‘Well, you see, I keep the AA manual in what we call the car drawer of my desk, along with the insurance cer
tificates and so on, and also that spare set of keys.’

  ‘Which are no longer there?’

  ‘Oh, but they are, you see! Back in their right place, where they belong. It’s completely illogical, of course, but for some reason that worries me almost more than their being taken away. There’s something going on which I don’t understand and I don’t care for it at all.’

  SUNDAY P.M.

  ‘At least, you can’t complain that there’s not enough plot,’ I remarked to Toby, as we relaxed in his summer house before dinner on Sunday evening. Robin had been obliged to return to London soon after tea and had been unable to avail himself of the invitation, which had included the whole party and had reached us just after Elsa’s revelation concerning the car keys. She too had naturally asked to be excused, as she did not intend to budge from the house until Marc was safely back in the fold; but, since I was beginning to find the atmosphere at the Grange somewhat oppressive and since also the dinner was to be in celebration of Mrs Parkes’s return, I asked if there would be any objection to my going on my own. In fact, she had been all in favour of it, relieved at this stage, I imagine, not to have to struggle with dishing up another meal, and, as an afterthought, had asked if it would be an awful bore to take Millie as well.

  ‘It will make things so much easier if she’s not here when Marc does get back,’ she explained. ‘Otherwise, sooner or later, she’ll start teasing and picking on him and everything will get completely out of hand.’

  Naturally, I had agreed to this, although reminding her that the Parkes menu was unlikely to conform very closely to Millie’s notions of the civilised person’s diet, to which she replied, rather heartlessly for her, that this was of no consequence.

  ‘She’s been gorging herself on chocolates the whole weekend, so a little forcible fasting is probably what she needs.’

  As it turned out, however, Millie was not to suffer this terrible fate, and when she learnt that some of Toby’s special late strawberries were to figure on the menu she gallantly offered to pick them herself and to help Mrs Parkes with the hulling, thus providing me with the opportunity to bring Toby up to date with recent developments.