“I am guilty,” she said. “Charlie was the innocent one.”
Walter had stepped away from her, his face twisted with grief and horror. “Why?”
“Tell us why, Marlene,” Vickery said, “that’s the part I can’t explain.”
“Because he was such a good man,” she said. “I couldn’t live with him any longer. You have no idea what it’s like. I had a child with another man, and Charlie raised that child as his own. I had an affair – and I wasn’t discreet, I think because I wanted to provoke him – and Charlie forgave me. He loved me and accepted me unconditionally – and I didn’t deserve that.
“I wished that he would go off with someone else, so I didn’t have to feel like I was the guilty one all the time. I wanted to be able to forgive him. But he never would, of course. Toby is right, Charlie could never be unfaithful to me.
“I don’t expect you to understand, but I couldn’t live with it. I didn’t deserve him – and no one could take him away from me – so I had to take him away.”
It was silent on the stage then.
“Marlene McNair, I arrest you for the murder of your husband Charlie McNair,” Grives said.
“And for the murder of Bristow,” Vickery said.
“That wasn’t me,” Marlene said, “I had nothing to do with that. I had no motive for killing him.”
Vickery smiled. “That won’t do, Marlene. Raymond Skelhorn might well have a reason for wanting Bristow dead – and perhaps he’s happy that the man is gone – but he also had a very good reason not to kill him. Bristow made sure of that – to protect himself.”
“But you know what he has done!” Marlene said, pointing at Skelhorn.
“I have very strong suspicions,” Vickery said, “But I also know what Raymond has not done. He did not kill Bristow. You did.”
Two uniformed constables entered from the wings and stood behind Marlene McNair. As they led his mother away, Walter looked accusingly at Vickery: in the space of a few days, the young man had lost both his father and his mother.
“I’m sorry, Walter,” Vickery said.
Walter turned away, and Danny and Abigail tried to comfort him. People slowly drifted away from the stage.
Skelhorn tugged at Vickery’s sleeve. “Did Bristow know it wasn’t me?” he asked.
“I have no idea what Bristow did or did not know,” Vickery said, and his smile was less than reassuring.
Skelhorn walked away slowly.
“That didn’t feel like a victory, did it?” Malloy asked.
“Sometimes the best you can hope for is justice for a victim,” Vickery said.
“You look exhausted,” Malloy said.
“I feel drained,” Vickery said, “if you don’t mind, I’d like for us to dine at home this evening.”
Malloy nodded. “I promise not to antagonise Betty,” he said. “At least not deliberately.”
“Vickery, I have a lot of questions for you,” Grives said, reappearing from the wings.
“And I shall be delighted to answer them,” Vickery said. “You may call on me this afternoon, no earlier than four o’clock.” He walked away across the stage.
“Where are you off too?” Grives demanded.
“Home for a nap,” Vickery said without turning.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“You promised me you wouldn’t keep anything from me,” Grives said.
They were standing in Vickery’s sitting room, ready to tie up the loose ends of the investigation. Malloy stood by the fireplace, watching the two men, a smile never far from his lips.
“Please accept my apologies, Inspector, but I had come to suspect that someone at the police station was providing information to Raymond Skelhorn – in exchange for money.”
Vickery stared at Grives, who didn’t flinch, but the tops of the Inspector’s ears turned red.
“None of my men would do such a thing,” he said, “They’re all good lads – straight-up.”
“I’m sure they are,” Vickery said. “But better to be safe than sorry, eh? We got there in the end.”
“I still don’t quite understand all of it,” Malloy said.
“You’re not the only one,” Grives said. “Why don’t you explain it to us, Vickery – for Mr. Malloy’s benefit.”
“Which parts would you like me to go over?” Vickery asked.
“Well – all of it,” Grives said. “I need to know if your understanding of events chimes with mine.”
“Of course,” Vickery said. “I think we should ask Betty to send up a pot of strong tea. Or would you prefer coffee, Inspector?”
“I’d prefer a glass of beer – but tea will do me.”
“I’ll go down and ask Betty,” Malloy said.
“He’s a brave one,” Grives said as Malloy went out.
“Let’s dispense with the pleasantries, shall we Grives,” Vickery said. “I wouldn’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us.”
Grives was shocked by the sudden change in tone. “A-all right,” he said.
“The money you received from Raymond Skelhorn for your services will be used to meet Bristow’s funeral expenses,” Vickery said. “I’m sure there will be sufficient for a decent plot and a headstone. I think that’s an appropriate use of those funds.”
Grives glared at him. “I only took money from him so he’d believe I was in league with him,” he said. “I needed a way to get information from him. Nothing more.”
“My investigation of Raymond Skelhorn revealed that your relationship with him dates back a number of years. The documents I now have in my possession make interesting reading,” Vickery said. “They date back to an earlier investigation.”
“His expert testimony?” Grives asked.
“Let’s agree to call it that, shall we? There is nothing in those files that I haven’t seen before – except for the records relating to financial matters. Raymond keeps meticulous accounts, did you know that?”
“What do you want?” Grives asked.
“I don’t want anything. That is not how I operate. I promised a few days ago that I would tell you of everything my investigation uncovered. I’m telling you some of that now.”
Grives stared at him but said nothing.
“I don’t think we need say any more about this,” Vickery said. “Ah, here’s Jamie now.”
Malloy opened the door and ushered Georgie Drake into the room. “I found this chap downstairs,” he said. “Tea will be up in a minute. What did I miss?”
“The inspector and I were just reminiscing,” Vickery said.
Grives nodded once, but his smile was more like a grimace. He and Drake sat down on the sofa, and Vickery and Malloy took their customary armchairs.
“Why don’t I start at the beginning, and you three can pipe up if you have any questions,” Vickery said.
The door banged open and Betty entered with the tea-tray. She placed it on the table in front of them.
“You can leave that, Betty, Jamie will be mother,” Vickery said.
“Of course he will,” Betty said. “I’m preparing dinner – you’ll have to let me know if I’m to prepare extra vegetables.” She looked at the two men on the sofa in a way that left no doubt about her feelings on the matter of unexpected dinner guests.
“Thank you, Betty,” Vickery said.
Malloy poured the tea, and then they sat back, ready for Vickery to begin.
“I think it is safe to assume that this whole sorry mess began with a coincidence,” Vickery said. “Marlene McNair discovered that Danny Holcroft was courting someone and that someone turned out to be Abigail Lovelace. Marlene had known her by another name, as had I, but we’ll stick with Lovelace for the sake of clarity.
“Having made this discovery, Marlene realised she had been presented with a unique opportunity – she could rid herself of a husband she didn’t love, and at the same time, have her revenge on the man who had abandoned her when she was carrying his child.”
“She t
old us the why of it,” Grives said, “I’m more interested in the how. What happened on the night of the murder?”
“Marlene shot Charlie at close range. The shooting took place in Charlie’s dressing room, and she muffled the sound of the gun with wadded cloth – possibly the missing hat.”
“With magicians, loud bangs and a smell of burning cloth wouldn’t attract much attention,” Malloy said.
Vickery nodded. “She dressed Charlie in the red costume, and sat him in the chair,” he said. “If anyone with a key was to open the door and look in, they would assume he was snoozing or meditating, and leave him undisturbed.
“Marlene then went to Danny and told him that Charlie would be unable to perform that night – that he had complained of feeling unwell and gone out for some air. He had not returned, and now she was afraid he would miss the curtain. She asked Danny to get into costume, just in case.”
“And she gave him the red outfit, to match what Charlie was wearing,” Malloy said.
“If Danny questioned this, she would have said that someone else was going to appear at the back of the theatre as the fake Mandarin – Toby Crabbe perhaps – and the heavier robe would better hide the substitution,” Vickery said. “But we know she asked no one to stand-in – she didn’t need to because the illusion would never be completed.”
“Danny Holcroft performed the act, not knowing Charlie lay dead under the stage,” Malloy said.
“Marlene took the body down in the scenery lift, probably on a trolley covered with a canvas drape. In the darkness down there, it’s unlikely anyone could make out what she was doing. We know one witness saw a ‘blonde woman’ down there, but no one suspected it was Marlene up to no good.”
“When Danny performed the magic box illusion, he dropped through the trap door, and was hit from behind and knocked senseless,” Malloy said.
“And Charlie’s body was slid onto the platform and sent up into the box, along with a lighted firecracker to simulate the sound of a gunshot. Marlene took the unconscious Danny back to the dressing room on the same trolley she’d used for Charlie’s body. She then went back into the audience, and people assumed she’d been there all the time.”
“It sounds straightforward when you say it out loud like that,” Malloy said.
“The best plans are simple in execution – there’s less risk of anything going wrong,” Vickery said. “But a great deal of work goes into setting them up. Marlene didn’t just want Charlie dead – she wanted Raymond Skelhorn to be convicted of his murder. Pulling off that deception was much more difficult. First of all, she needed to remind people of the rivalry between Charlie McNair and Raymond Skelhorn, that had begun twenty years earlier.”
“Marlene sent the typewritten letter,” Malloy said.
“Letter?” Drake asked.
“Marlene’s son, Walter, received a letter a few days before Charlie’s death,” Malloy said. “Ask Marlene who your father is.”
“That set Walter to asking questions, and Marlene knew it would lead him, eventually, to the other man in her life at the time he was conceived,” Vickery said.
“Raymond Skelhorn,” Grives said.
“At the same time, I think Marlene suggested to your superiors that ‘only a magician’ would be able to solve the mystery of Charlie’s death. This was meant to plant a seed – a suspicion that the murderer might be a magician.”
“Another finger pointing towards Skelhorn,” Malloy said.
“I’m sure Marlene also hoped that I would be called in to advise,” Vickery said. “She knew of the antagonism between Skelhorn and myself, and thought I would be sure to prove he was the murderer.”
“You very nearly did,” Grives said.
“Marlene is a very clever woman,” Vickery said. “She told us that someone had seen Charlie having dinner with another woman. This was not true. She had seen Danny and Abigail Lovelace having dinner, and it struck her how much he looked like Charlie, especially when he was dressing to impress an older woman. That is when she decided to engage the services of Georgie Drake.”
Everyone looked at the private detective, who shifted uncomfortably.
“I do not mean to cause offence, Georgie, but I believe she deliberately chose you because of your reputation,” Vickery said.
Drake’s chest puffed up a little and he smiled.
“You’re not particularly astute,” Vickery said.
Grives chuckled and Drake glared at him.
“You didn’t have to follow Charlie to that restaurant, did you?” Vickery asked.
“Someone told me he’d be there,” Drake said, “that he always took her there.”
“Someone told you?” Vickery asked.
“All right, she told me,” he said, “Marlene.”
“In the dim light of the restaurant, you mistook Danny for Charlie, did you?” Vickery asked.
Drake nodded his head sharply. “I couldn’t get that close to them. It was an honest mistake.”
“I believe that,” Vickery said. “You saw what you had been told to expect. Why would you doubt your own eyes?”
“I didn’t know about Danny, not then – didn’t know about the similarity,” Drake insisted.
“Not then you didn’t,” Vickery said, “but you soon found out.”
Red patches appeared on Drake’s cheeks.
“You’re a terrible detective, Georgie,” Vickery said, “but not so bad that you would keep mistaking Danny Holcroft for Charlie.”
“Perhaps I’m a worse detective than you think,” Drake said.
“I don’t believe so. You knew it wasn’t Charlie you were following – but you continued to report back to Marlene that you had seen her husband dining out with this mysterious other woman.”
“I told you, it was an honest mistake,” Drake said.
“No, Georgie, it wasn’t,” Vickery said.
“You kept going back and telling her Charlie was up to no good because you wanted to keep seeing her,” Malloy said. “You thought Marlene would be so upset by her husband’s infidelity, that she would seek solace in the arms of a big handsome brute like yourself.”
“That’s a lie!” Drake said, rising to his feet and clenching his fists.
“Sit down, Georgie,” Vickery said.
Drake was breathing heavily through his nose, face red, and staring at Malloy, who looked back at him without concern. Finally, he dropped back down on the sofa.
“What you did not realise, Georgie was that this was exactly what Marlene wanted you to do. She kept your interest by flirting a little each time you called with your latest report. And you would be ready to provide testimony that Charlie was stepping out with a lovely blonde lady who wasn’t his wife. You’d say this, even under oath, because otherwise you would have to admit that you had lied to her and taken her money under false pretences.”
“She played me for a fool!” Drake said.
“I’m afraid so,” Vickery said.
“But why manufacture evidence of her husband’s infidelity?” Grives asked. “Doesn’t that just make it look like she has a motive for killing her husband?”
“It would,” Vickery said, “except that Marlene knew the identity of the mysterious blonde woman Danny Holcroft was courting.”
“Abigail Lovelace,” Malloy said.
“Formerly Constance Aspen, on-stage assistant of the magician Raymond Skelhorn,” Vickery said.
“If it appeared that Charlie had ‘stolen’ this lovely lady from him, it would give Skelhorn another reason for wanting Charlie dead,” Malloy said.
“Particularly when people remembered that Charlie had ‘taken’ Marlene from Skelhorn all those years ago,” Vickery said.
“It’s hard to believe she could have come up with a plot like this – all on her own,” Grives said.
“Marlene has carried her guilt and bitterness around for many years,” Vickery said. “She has been looking for an opportunity like this one. When it came, she was ready to take
advantage of it.”
“She set the perfect trap for Raymond Skelhorn, didn’t she?” Grives said.
“It might have succeeded, except for one thing she could never have foreseen,” Vickery said.
“Danny Holcroft,” Malloy said.
“She couldn’t have guessed that he would confess to the murder,” Grives said.
“That did rather catch her unprepared,” Vickery said. “If Abigail Lovelace had been accused of the murder, then it could be argued that she was working for Skelhorn, or was being blackmailed or coerced by him. But when Danny Holcroft confessed to the murder, to protect Miss Lovelace, the whole plot started to unravel. Skelhorn looked set to go free, and Marlene would be responsible for Danny’s death by hanging. And she really did care about Danny.”
“As does Abigail Lovelace,” Malloy said.
“Marlene needed a way to save Danny, and at the same time shift suspicion back to Skelhorn. What would be the best way to do that?” Vickery asked.
“A second murder,” Malloy said. “Bristow.”
Vickery nodded. “Bristow worked for Skelhorn, and claimed to have evidence of Skelhorn’s crimes,” he said, “if he was found dead, Skelhorn would be the prime suspect.”
“Once Skelhorn was in custody and accused of both murders, Danny would know that Miss Lovelace was innocent, and he could retract his confession,” Vickery said. “Skelhorn would have been tried, and almost certainly found guilty, of two murders that he did not commit.”
“I thought for sure that Skelhorn had killed Bristow,” Malloy said.
“Marlene’s plan was perfect,” Grives said. “Skelhorn would have gone to the gallows. Except for your intervention, Vickery.”
“No one would have been sad to see Skelhorn go,” Malloy said.
“Why did you save him?” Grives asked.
“Because, on this occasion at least, Raymond Skelhorn was not guilty,” Vickery said.
“I don’t think I would have done what you did, Vickery,” Grives said.
“Perhaps that is why the higher-ups asked me to assist you this time,” Vickery said. “Do you think you have all the details you need to make a statement to the newspapers?”
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