‘Yes, obviously he is,’ Swift chipped in. ‘He’s been saying that since we started.’
‘He doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about!’ Langton was dismissive.
‘If it had been a set-up,’ I replied. ‘Fontaine would have been close at hand to detain you before you had time to hide the medallion. The fact that he wasn’t means he and Josephine weren’t involved.’
He opened his mouth to argue, hesitated and then shut it again.
I let him digest that leap of logic while I took another sip of water.
Fontaine broke the silence. ‘May I ask a question of Mademoiselle Carruthers?’
‘Yes.’ Persi looked at him with some surprise.
‘When I detained you, Mademoiselle, we searched your person and your rooms. But we did not discover the medallion. I was certain you had it, but where was it?’
She laughed and ran fingers through her loose hair. ‘Tucked inside my hair, Colonel – my bun to be precise.’
He had the grace to smile.
I took up again. ’When Langton was placed under lock and key, Josephine must have thought he would cave in to the pressure and hand over the medallion, but then Persi arrived.’ I turned to face Langton. ‘You’d written to her.’
He nodded. ‘She was in Byblos. I sent her the medallion and instructions. I knew she’d find the house, she’s a plucky girl.’ He offered her a smile, which she didn’t return.
I stepped back in. ‘It must have been a surprise when Persi arrived here and threw Josephine’s plan awry. But Josephine was well practiced in deceit and she concocted the lie that you, Langton, was at death’s door, thinking that Persi would exchange the medallion for your freedom.’
‘I never would have,’ Persi broke in.
I smiled at her. ‘No, you contacted Swift and that resulted in us arriving here.’
‘And us,’ Genevieve added.
‘Exactly,’ I agreed. ‘But before that happened, Josephine had made plans of her own. She’d made a conquest of Qarsan and she’d murdered Midhurst.’ I paused. ‘But there was something else she did, and that’s what led to her murder.’
‘Well, what was it?’ Lady Maitland demanded.
I regarded their faces, knowing that if I didn’t lead them along the right track I’d never get the confession we needed.
‘It all goes back to the war and the betrayal of Beatrice Langton,’ I answered.
There were murmurs of surprise.
‘Josephine knew who was responsible for betraying Beatrice,’ I revealed.
Another gasp of shock rippled around the terrace.
‘Who was it?’ Langton shifted forward in his seat.
‘Wait,’ Swift ordered him.
‘This is not making sense,’ Dreadnaught rejoined. ‘It was Josephine who betrayed Beatrice.’
‘How do you know?’ I asked Dreadnaught quietly.
‘Because Mammie…’ He broke off and looked toward her.
Mammie’s face had turned to stone. ‘It’s true. Josephine told me so herself.’
The murmuring grew louder.
‘She should have been shot,’ Lady Maitland uttered in a freezing tone.
‘She was,’ Swift replied.
I continued questioning Mammie. ‘Why did Josephine wait all this time to reveal such a devastating secret and then expose it when you all came here?’
‘She… she…’ Mammie struggled for words. ‘I told you, she was frightened. She was certain Langton had come to kill her.’
I turned toward Langton at the same moment everyone else did.
‘Is that true?’ I asked him.
‘No, I was sent here to exchange the medallion for the oil. I didn’t know Josephine was here until I arrived.’ His tone was coldly controlled.
‘None of this is proof, Major,’ Fontaine broke in.
I nodded in agreement. ‘Josephine is dead and we cannot know what she did, or said or did not say – it has all been conjecture. Neither do we know what happened during the war, there are no records left.’ I turned around to pick up the photographs lying on the table. ‘Except for these.’ I held them up to general puzzlement.
‘Bruce took those, they’re our stills,’ Vincent said.
‘Not all of them, did he, Vincent?’ I shuffled through the glossy photographs of smiling faces until I came to the images of Beatrice. ‘You took these, didn’t you?’
His face fell. ‘We didn’t have Bruce then, so yeah, I took them. I was a photographer and cameraman when I started. I’m good at it.’
‘Look at these photographs,’ I ordered. I held up two images, one a smiling portrait of Josephine, showing her dazzling beauty, the other of Beatrice. Her eyes were softened with love as she stared into the camera, or rather, as she stared at the person behind the camera.
‘She loved you,’ I directed my words to Vincent.
He didn’t reply.
‘You were going to leave your wife, weren’t you?’ I continued.
‘I…’ Vincent stuttered to a halt.
‘No, he wasn’t. He would never leave me.’ Mammie put her hand over his. ‘Would you Pappie?’
‘He was going to leave you,’ I repeated.
‘No. Without me, there wouldn’t be any movies.’ Her voice hardened.
‘Oh yes there would,’ I told her. ‘He wouldn’t have to give up making films, he has the knowledge and the talent. You, on the other hand, only have money and that can be replaced.’ I stepped forward. ‘That’s why you were so terrified of losing him. Not just for the love you undoubtably hold for him, but because without him, your whole world would collapse. Your world of movies and travel and glamour and all the excitement that goes with it. He represented your life-time’s ambition.’
Mammie almost screamed. ‘That’s not so. How could you say that! He was never going to leave me.’
‘It was you, Mammie.’ I wound up the pressure. ‘You asked Josephine to betray Beatrice, didn’t you? And she did, because she knew that, one day, that act of betrayal could be very valuable to her. When you all came here to find the secret of the oil, she decided it was time to make use of that fact. Josephine knew that the information would flow through you, just as it had during the war. And to get it, all she had to do was blackmail you. And she did, didn’t she?’
Mammie panted heavily, staring round-eyed at me. Then she pulled herself together and sat upright in her wicker chair. ‘No, I didn’t do anything. Josephine did it. I told you yesterday what happened.’
‘Yesterday, you said she did it by accident,’ I reminded her. ‘That was another lie. You said Josephine had learned of a traitor within Beatrice’s group and only the traitor was supposed to be denounced, and then it spiralled out of control. But how can you denounce a traitor to the Germans? They were the very enemy the so-called traitor would be working for!’
‘I…I was only repeating what she told me.’ Her voice shook.
‘Beatrice loved your husband,’ I needled her. ‘Didn’t she? And he loved her.’
‘She was a trollop,’ Mammie suddenly shrieked in fury. ‘She was just like the rest of them, those scheming tarts, throwing themselves at him because they wanted to be movie stars. They wanted what I had.’ Her face distorted with rage.
Vincent stared at her, horror slowly gripping his face. ‘Mammie, I never touched one of them, never. It was just an act, you know that, you know…’
‘None of them except Beatrice. She was different, wasn’t she Vincent?’ I pressured him.
‘She was… loving.’ Vincent’s voice lost its harshness. ‘Nobody really cared for me before. Not like that.’
Mammie opened her mouth to protest, but I turned on her. ‘You were going to lose everything, weren’t you? The movie making, the man you loved – it was all about to be taken away from you. But you kne
w how easy it would be to stop it. You only had to ask Josephine to drop the word in the right ears and it would be over. So that’s exactly what you did.’
The atmosphere froze as everyone stared at Mammie.
‘You sent her to her death?’ Vincent’s voice faltered as he stared at his wife. ‘She was tortured.’
Langton made to move, but Swift quelled him with an out-thrust hand.
‘How can you say such a thing? I didn’t send her anywhere.’ Her voice became shrill.
Vincent leaned away from her, loathing growing in his eyes. ‘She was innocent; she was just a girl. She had more humanity in her little finger than you have in the whole of your sick being.’
‘Don’t you say that,’ Mammie exploded with rage. ‘Don’t you talk to me like that. I made you, I paid for it all. You are my husband. How could you look at another woman? Why did you do it? I gave you everything and you were going to leave me with nothing. Nothing!’ she screamed at him and suddenly lashed out, pummelling him with her fists.
He raised his arms but didn’t retaliate, I could see tears running down his face, all semblance to the brash movie man vanished.
‘You did it, didn’t you?’ I repeated the accusation to Mammie.
She slumped down in her chair, her eyes glazed and unseeing. I don’t think she heard my words, the shock of her exposure was too great.
‘You caused the death of Beatrice.’ Lady Maitland had leaned forward in her chair to fix Mammie with a look of steel. ‘She was an innocent girl. Her life had barely begun. She risked her life for her country and you betrayed her?’ Cold, deadly anger was growing in her voice.
‘Margaret,’ Genevieve turned to Lady Maitland. ‘Don’t.’
Her warning arrived too late. A shot rang out, loud and shocking in the confines of the terrace and garden. We watched in silent horror as red blood seeped onto Mammie’s dress. She clasped her hands over the wound, panting with terror. ‘Pappie, Pappie,’ she cried out.
He didn’t speak, his eyes widened, his mouth dropped open in silent horror and he watched his wife gasp for breath and die.
Chapter 27
Lady Maitland put the gun back in her handbag and stared at Fontaine, defying him to act.
He didn’t move and neither did anyone else. Until, suddenly, they did. The gendarmes lined up behind Lady Maitland, hands to their revolver butts, ready to arrest, or possibly shoot her.
She turned to Fontaine and said simply. ‘I claim diplomatic immunity, Colonel.’
Bing went to Vincent and put a hand on his arm, leaning over him to talk quietly. Genevieve joined Bing to gently take Napoleon from his grasp as Vincent began to sob noisily. Persi looked on as though stunned, while Langton slumped in his seat.
Swift came to stand beside me.
‘Rather chaotic, Lennox,’ he said. I’ve no idea if he meant my efforts at unveiling the killer or the aftermath.
‘Um,’ I sat down in a wicker chair and sighed, my headache suddenly returning with a feeling of utter weariness.
‘Sir?’ Greggs came over from a shady corner.
I looked up at him, his hang-doggedness even more pronounced, his shoulders slumped and dejected. Poor chap, adventuring in foreign fields was too much for him. I’ve no doubt that witnessing a cold-blooded execution hadn’t helped either.
‘Why don’t you go and pack, Greggs?’ I told him.
‘Very good, sir.’ He trudged off, shell-shocked.
Swift went to Fontaine and they formed a huddle away from the rest of us. I could see there was an animated discussion taking place.
I glanced over at Persi, breaking her trance-like state as she watched the actions around us. She came over and sat in the chair next to me.
‘Heathcliff,’ she began. ‘Lennox, I mean. That was… well, it was rather shocking, darling.’
‘Um,’ I murmured, then held my hand out to place it in hers.
‘Look, Charles needs to get away from here.’ She paused to fix her blue eyes on mine. ‘He’s not as immune as he thinks. I know him, his sister’s death almost destroyed him and now…’ She looked about. ‘And now this.’
She squeezed my hand then returned to Langton’s side. She took his arm gently and persuaded him to rise to his feet before leading him away. My heart sank.
Swift came to my side as Fontaine suddenly snapped out orders. His men moved forward to surround the body, then started to push people toward the door, back into the courtyard.
‘He’s going to detain Lady Maitland,’ Swift said. ‘Everyone else can leave.’
He waited for me to reply but I didn’t.
‘Including us,’ he added. ‘Lennox, are you listening to me?’
‘Yes,’ I muttered.
‘Right.’ He waited while I gathered up my little dog and slowly followed him out.
Fontaine came to my rooms some time later as I sat by the window staring out.
‘Felicitations, Major, I had not expected you to uncover the culprit.’ He made a short bow.
I nodded in return, wondering what he wanted.
‘You were correct that Langton did not make the attempt to murder Mademoiselle Belvoir.’ He sat down on a hard chair, his back and shoulders rigid. I imagined it must be difficult for him to admit he was wrong. ‘Madame Vincent stole Langton’s gun and donned his coat and hat. I suspect she filled the overlarge shoes with socks or stockings to try to make them fit her.’
‘Unsuccessfully,’ I replied. ‘Didn’t you question the bath-draw boy about it?’
‘As your friend Swift remarked, he was an unreliable witness, and,’ he added an aside with a brief smile, ‘an unreliable guard too.’
‘And it suited your purpose to use his garbled account as an excuse to accuse Langton and lock him up.’ I threw at him.
He shrugged. ‘I have done worse.’
I looked again at the hard lines around his eyes and nodded. I’m sure he had done worse, he would consider it his duty, although I still liked to believe he was a fair man beneath the tough exterior.
He continued. ‘Mademoiselle Carruthers has been officially cleared, I have expunged her records.’
‘They should never have existed.’ I retorted.
‘No, in this you are wrong,’ he made as if to argue, but paused and moderated his tone. ‘But, I have not come to dispute with you, I came here to thank you for your work.’
I nodded an acknowledgment. ‘I suppose peace keeping must be a difficult job.’
‘It is,’ his face returned to stone. ‘And these events have not made it any easier. Bon voyage, Major.’ He rose to leave and I got up and walked to the door with him.
Once over the threshold he paused and gave a brief salute, I returned it, watched him descend the stairs, then went back to my room with a heavy heart.
Bing turned up some time later, holding Napoleon.
‘Hello, old bean.’
‘Bing,’ I replied from the sofa.
‘We’re running away together.’ Bing grinned.
‘You and Napoleon?’
He put the little dog down and he and Foggy gambolled about the room.
He laughed. ‘No, Genevieve and I. Napoleon too, of course. We’re off to the bright lights.’
‘Hollywood?’
‘And movies, if they’ll have us.’
‘You’re going to make Napoleon a star?’ I asked reaching down to stroke the little dog’s head as he came to jump up at me.
‘Who knows.’ His laughter died. ‘Thank you, Lennox, for putting an end to the misery. I don’t think anyone truly realised what Beatrice’s death had meant to us. Or how much frisson Josephine caused amongst us in the crew – and to me, of course.’
I nodded mutely, I was rather touched actually.
‘Well, come along little doggy,’ he picked up Napoleon and lef
t with a cheery wave.
Swift arrived almost on his heels, wearing his trench coat unbelted and loose.
‘Fontaine’s holding Lady Maitland, but she insists he’ll have to let her go and I think he will.’
Greggs had gone off to order coffee and biscuits.
‘It was cold-blooded murder, Swift.’ We sat by the window, sun streaming in to light the room with bright warmth.
He shrugged glumly. ‘Perhaps that’s what spies do. You said it yourself, assassination.’
‘What time are we leaving?’ I asked, having had enough of murder and death.
‘In about an hour, Jamal will come and tell us. The place is in a bit of an uproar, actually.’ He explained. ‘They’re arranging to remove the body and Vincent’s a mess. I said I’d go and help.’
‘Good of you,’ I remarked.
He nodded, patted Foggy again and left quietly.
Greggs arrived with a tray of coffee and goodies, then went off again. He’s a stalwart old soldier in a crisis, even if it wasn’t really our crisis.
I felt a bit better after the coffee and whatnots. Dreadnaught came in just as I finished the last confection. I would have locked the damn door but I had been hoping Persi would walk through it.
‘He is a nice dog,’ Dreadnaught remarked as Foggy greeted him.
‘What did you want Dreadnaught?’ I asked.
‘A copy of the map,’ he replied.
‘What?’
‘I think you heard…’
‘Yes,’ I cut across him. ‘Why?’
He laughed. ‘I want to go home, Major.’
‘Really?’ I said, wondering what he was talking about and wishing he’d clear off.
‘I need the map. The location of the oil, I know you have it.’
‘Ah,’ I nodded. ‘And this will help you return home – assuming you mean home to Germany?’
‘Ja, Germany. The new government would welcome such information. And if I brought it to them, then I believe they will forgive me. After all, they profess that they did not support the Kaiser’s plan any more than me. Although they did not try stop him.’
‘And you did?’
‘I tried what little I could. And now I am exiled for it.’
Death in Damascus: A 1920s Murder Mystery with Heathcliff Lennox Page 22