There was something in her tone of voice that alerted Pünd. He remembered what she had said when he had met her at Church Lodge. The two women had not been close. ‘Would it be correct to say, Mrs Collins, that you were not very fond of Miss James?’
‘I disliked her, actually, Mr Pünd.’ The words had spilled out before she could stop them. ‘I know it’s wrong of me. One should find it in one’s heart to be kind. But I disliked her a great deal.’
‘May I ask why?’
‘Because I think she was spoiling Tawleigh-on-the-Water with her expensive hotel and her expensive car and all the people who came down here – the fans – just to catch sight of her. It wasn’t even as if she had acted in anything for years and years. I thought her a very superficial woman.’
‘Were you aware that she and your brother were having an affair?’
That threw her. ‘Did he tell you that?’
‘He confessed to an adulterous relationship. Yes.’
‘Well, that’s typical of Algie.’ She was furious. ‘I don’t care what happens to him. If he goes back into prison, that’s his affair. Adultery is a sin and I’m not having him in the house any more. I should have listened to Leonard from the start.’ She went on, barely pausing to catch her breath. ‘As for her, that’s exactly the sort of behaviour I’d have expected from a Hollywood actress. I’m not excusing Algie, not for a minute, but if you ask me there wasn’t a man in the village who was safe from her. She even latched on to Leonard, always on at him to treat her for illnesses that only existed in her head. That was Melissa James. She got what she wanted and heaven help you if you stood in her way.’
Perhaps it was the mention of heaven that had done it. Samantha stopped herself and looked around her, as if she had reminded herself where she was. ‘Of course it’s wrong of me to say bad things about a dead woman and I hope God has mercy on her. But I didn’t like her and I really think she could have done more for the church, especially as she’s being buried here. I mean, I mentioned the organ just now. She knew about all the problems we were having and she never gave a penny to the restoration fund. As it happens, I’m in a position to take care of it myself now. But you’d have thought she could have put her hand in her pocket. She didn’t have to be so selfish.’
‘You said none of this when we first met, Mrs Collins.’
‘Well, at the time it didn’t feel appropriate.’
Pünd had picked up on what she had said. ‘I understand that you have come into some money of your own,’ he said, adding, ‘It is very kind of you to wish to give it to the church.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of keeping it all to myself. Anyway, it’s a very large amount. It was left to me by an aunt who recently passed away.’
‘And the organ? I would imagine that will be an expensive purchase.’
‘Oh yes, Mr Pünd. An organ is the most expensive item in a church after the building itself, and this one is going to be specially built for us by Hele & Co in Plymouth. We may be talking about more than a thousand pounds but Leonard agrees with me, the church plays a vital role in the community and really it’s the very least we can do.’ She paused. ‘The church roof also needs renovating so we may do that too.’
‘It is more than generous of you, Mrs Collins.’ Pünd was smiling but suddenly he looked puzzled. ‘This aunt of yours. May I ask if she also left money to your brother in her will?’
Samantha’s cheeks coloured. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Algernon received nothing in the will. I’m afraid he disappointed her very badly when he was young and so she chose to cut him out. I was considering sharing some of the money with him, but – particularly in the light of what you’ve told me today – I don’t feel that’s a good idea. Curiously, my husband has been trying to persuade me otherwise. He’s come to the conclusion that it’s unfair to keep it all for ourselves. I can’t think why as when we first heard the news, he didn’t even want Algernon to know. But I don’t care what he says. I’ve made up my mind. Do you think that’s wrong of me?’
‘I think it would be impertinent of me to offer you any advice, Mrs Collins. But I will say that I completely understand your way of thinking.’
‘Thank you, Mr Pünd.’ She turned and looked wistfully at the cross standing on the altar. ‘I’d like to have a little time on my own, if you don’t mind. It’s so easy, isn’t it, to give way to hatred and unchristian thoughts. I feel, perhaps, I should pray for Melissa James and also for my brother. We’re all sinners in God’s eyes.’
Pünd bowed discreetly and left her to her ministrations, reflecting that she might also have considered praying for herself. He left the church and stood outside in the bright sunlight, surrounded by the graves. From here he could see Church Lodge and the window from which Samantha Collins had noticed Melissa James. He smiled to himself. He should perhaps believe in the power of the church more. The chance encounter had told him everything he needed to know.
Seventeen
At the Moonflower Hotel
The main lounge at the Moonflower Hotel had been closed for the morning. A sign on the door apologised to guests that owing to a private function, it would not be available until midday, but free biscuits and coffee were being served in the bar. In fact, there were thirteen people who had gathered together before ten o’clock, including himself and Detective Chief Inspector Hare, and although Pünd was not at all superstitious, he had to concede that the gathering was certainly going to be unlucky for one of them.
He was standing in the centre of the room, wearing a neat, old-fashioned suit, his rosewood walking stick drawing a diagonal line from his hand to the side of his right foot. With his wire-frame spectacles and his quiet, studious demeanour, he could easily have been mistaken for a local schoolteacher, brought in to give a lecture on the history of Tawleigh or the local wildlife perhaps; the sort of event that often took place at the Moonflower.
His audience consisted of all the different people – suspects or otherwise – who had been involved in the deaths of Melissa James and Francis Pendleton. It had been Detective Chief Inspector Hare who had decided to bring them together. The effect was a touch theatrical, he knew, but this was his last case and why should he not enjoy a dramatic conclusion, even if he wasn’t the one who was going to be placed centre stage? That role was to be taken by Pünd.
Lance and Maureen Gardner, the general managers of the Moonflower, were perched on one sofa, already looking indignant, as if they had nothing to answer for, while Dr Collins and Samantha were on another, holding hands. Algernon Marsh had taken an armchair and was sitting with one leg over his knee, his hands folded in front of him. It was hard to believe that he was still under arrest and had only been brought here because Hare had arranged it. Simon Cox had also been summoned from London and was sitting in an identical armchair on the other side of the fireplace.
Eric Chandler and his mother had chosen two wooden chairs in front of a bookshelf. They were sitting next to each other but there was a wide space between them and they were avoiding each other’s eyes. Nancy Mitchell, who had been released from hospital, had also come with her mother and it was obvious from the way the older woman held on to her daughter that she now knew the truth about her pregnancy. Miss Cain was next to them, poised with her notebook and pen. She did not look happy and Hare remembered that she would much rather have returned to London. After everything that had happened, she almost certainly wished she had never come at all.
‘I am very glad to see everyone here today,’ Pünd began. ‘This has been a most unusual investigation – for two reasons. The first is that there were several people who had a motive to kill Melissa James. There were also a few people with a motive to kill Francis Pendleton. But to find the person with a motive to kill first one and then the other, from the very start that has been a challenge to me.
‘The second peculiarity of this case was drawn to my attention by my assistant, Miss Cain.’ He turned to her. ‘I am aware that this has been a terrible experience for you b
ut even so I am indebted to you for providing me with what I have called the ten moments in time. I have asked my good friend Detective Chief Inspector Hare to reproduce them so that we can all examine the events between five forty and six fifty-six on the day that Miss James was killed.’
Hare had copied what Miss Cain had written onto a larger sheet of paper so that everyone in the room could see what had been written. Using two drawing pins, he attached it to the wall between the windows, much to the annoyance of Maureen Gardner. ‘We don’t need holes in the wallpaper, thank you,’ she muttered. He ignored her.
5.40 p.m.:
Miss James leaves the Moonflower.
6.05 p.m.:
Miss James arrives home.
6.15 p.m.:
Francis Pendleton leaves Clarence Keep for the opera.
6.18 p.m.:
Dog heard barking. Stranger arrives at Clarence Keep?
6.20 p.m.:
Front door heard opening and closing at Clarence Keep.
6.25 p.m.:
The Chandlers leave. The Austin has gone.
6.28 p.m.:
Melissa James calls Dr Collins.
6.35 p.m.:
Dr Collins leaves his home.
6.45 p.m.:
Dr Collins arrives at Clarence Keep. Melissa James dead.
6.56 p.m.:
Dr Collins calls police & ambulance.
‘As you can see, there are just seventeen minutes in which Melissa James could have been killed,’ Pünd went on. ‘It is very unusual to have such a narrow window of opportunity and this has also very much influenced my investigation. For example, it is impossible for Dr Collins or his wife to have committed the crime as they were at home at 6.28 p.m. when the telephone call took place. We know that a call was made at that time by Miss James as it was logged by the local exchange and, indeed, Mrs Collins overheard it. We also know that she was distressed by something and in need of a doctor or a close friend – and Dr Collins was both. Something had made her cry. There were tissues with her tears both in the bedroom where she was eventually found and in the living room downstairs.
‘Why, I wonder, in two places? This has always puzzled me. Where did her last, unhappy experience begin? If it was in the bedroom, why did she not pick up the telephone and call Dr Collins from there? If it was in the living room, what made her go back upstairs? The evidence would suggest that when she became upset, she spent more time in the bedroom . . .’
‘How do you know that?’ Dr Collins asked.
‘There were two discarded tissues in the bedroom but only one in the living room. And there is another mystery. What actually happened to upset her? We still have no idea. Was the killer actually in the house when she made the call? Melissa James certainly believed so. “He’s here. I don’t know what he wants. I’m frightened.” These are the words reported to us by Dr Collins, which he heard on the phone.’
Pünd turned back to the sheet of paper he had pinned to the wall.
‘We can add certain other details to this period of time. We know now, for example, that Miss James had argued with her film producer, Simon Cox, before she left the hotel. The two of them had a parting of the ways. Did she return to Clarence Keep after this? No. For reasons that are unclear, she drove to the church of St Daniel’s, where she was seen by Mrs Collins. Meanwhile, Mr Cox followed her home but in fact arrived ahead of her. Approaching the house, he heard an argument between Mrs Chandler and her son.’
‘It was a private matter!’ Phyllis half rose from her chair.
‘We do not need to go into the details here, Mrs Chandler. Do not upset yourself, please.’ He waited until she had sat down again. ‘As a result of this disagreement, you and your son did not leave the house to visit your sister until 6.25 p.m. and it is your testimony that is of great value now. You heard the dog barking at 6.18 p.m. and two minutes later the front door opened and closed. As the dog was known to bark when strangers came to the house, you assumed that this was the moment when the man who would terrorise Melissa James entered the property and, ten minutes later, caused her to call Dr Collins.
‘And where was Francis Pendleton during all this? We know that he did not attend the performance of The Marriage of Figaro as he pretended to do. It is quite possible that he did indeed leave the house at 6.15 p.m., using the French windows from the living room. He would not have been seen or heard. Or he could have remained and killed his wife. But if that were the case, why did she not say as much to Dr Collins on that last telephone call? If she knew the name of the man who was about to kill her, surely she would have wanted him to know!’
Pünd stood examining the chart.
‘It does not work,’ he admitted. ‘I cannot make it work. It is something that I have written about in my book, The Landscape of Criminal Investigation. Sometimes the facts will be presented to the detective in a way that seems to make sense but which makes no sense at all, and if that occurs you must accept that they may not be facts at all, that hidden amongst them are misconceptions that are blinding you to the truth.’ He paused. ‘That is what I have done. Almost from the very start, I have attempted to find an alternative sequence of events that would explain how Melissa James died and I will confess to you that I would have failed completely but for the brilliance of the detective chief inspector. He compared the crime to the death of Desdemona in Shakespeare’s Othello and at that moment he unlocked for me what must have taken place.’
‘And I suppose one of us is Iago,’ Algernon sneered. He seemed amused by the whole thing.
Pünd ignored him. ‘Let us go back to my first question,’ he went on. ‘What was the motive for the murder of Melissa James and why did Francis Pendleton also have to die?’ He turned to Lance Gardner. ‘You, Mr Gardner, had a good reason to kill her. She had warned you that she was intending to investigate the management of the hotel.’
‘I had nothing to hide,’ Gardner replied.
‘On the contrary. Thanks to the good offices of my assistant, Miss Cain, we know that you have a great deal to hide. I know about the overpayment of suppliers and the way in which you have diverted the refunds into your own account. I have given the evidence to the detective chief inspector.’
‘I’ll be wanting to talk to you and your wife as soon as this is over,’ Hare said, grimly.
‘If Melissa James were to die, there would be no examination and the money that you have stolen would remain undetected. You had a motive to kill not just Miss James but her husband too, as Francis Pendleton also suspected you of financial malfeasance and would have continued to pursue you.’
‘We didn’t kill anyone!’ Maureen Gardner exclaimed.
‘And what of Phyllis and Eric Chandler? They too might have had good reason to kill first Melissa and then Francis. They had a secret. Eric had been involved in a particularly unpleasant activity at Clarence Keep—’
‘She didn’t know anything about it!’ Eric said. His voice was high-pitched and petulant.
‘So you say. But how do we know that she had not discovered your secret and threatened you? Then, when her husband stumbled onto the truth, you killed him as well. It could have been either of you: Eric because he was afraid or his mother because she was ashamed. It could even have been both of you, working together. It seems to me quite feasible that the differences between you could have been exaggerated, and let me remind you that you, and only you, were in the house on both occasions at almost exactly the time the murders were committed.’
‘It’s a wicked lie!’ Phyllis spat out the words.
But Pünd had already moved on to Nancy Mitchell. He was a little gentler now, but her part in all this still had to be explained. ‘And then we come to you, Miss Mitchell.’
‘My Nancy did nothing!’ Brenda Mitchell clutched her daughter tighter.
‘That is, of course, what you would believe, Mrs Mitchell. It is what I also, with all my heart, wish to believe. But although it is true that your daughter was working at the hotel at the time of th
e first murder, she was most certainly present on the occasion of the second.’ Pünd sounded almost regretful as he turned to Nancy. ‘You have admitted as much. You tell us a story about looking in through the window and running away but it would have been perfectly simple for you to slip in through the back door and kill Francis Pendleton with the Turkish knife before making your escape. He had treated you badly. You were angry. We have already discussed the reasons and there is no need to air them again in public. But I will ask this. Is there anyone else in the room who would have been more motivated to act in so reckless and perilous a fashion?’
Nancy fell silent, casting her eyes down. Her mother comforted her. Neither of them spoke.
‘What about me?’ Algernon asked. ‘Aren’t you going to accuse me of doing Melissa in?’
‘You find this amusing, Mr Marsh?’
‘Well, it’s more entertaining than being stuck in jail.’
‘I think you’d better get used to jail time,’ Hare muttered. ‘I have a feeling you’re going to be doing a lot of it.’
‘Of course you had a motive to kill Miss James,’ Pünd continued. ‘She had invested a great deal of money in a business of yours but this was actually money that you were stealing from her. We know that she was having financial difficulties. What would you do if she asked for the money back? Your entire scheme would collapse.’
‘But she didn’t ask for it back. She and I were planning to get married. Everything she had would have been mine anyway, so I’m afraid that’s where your little theory rather falls to the ground.’
‘Ah yes. The letter that she sent to you. “My darling darling . . .” as she called you.’
‘That’s right.’
‘No, Mr Marsh. It is not right. I do not believe that Miss James was involved in a relationship with you – at least certainly not of a romantic nature. I believe that you fabricated the entire story because you realised that you could use it to achieve your ends.’
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