The Cat Next Door

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by Marian Babson


  ‘Because Polly Parsons had found out what she was doing and was going to tell you.’

  ‘Oh?’ His voice was carefully neutral. ‘And just what was Verity doing?’

  ‘She was stealing money from you.’

  ‘Oh? What makes you think that?’

  ‘Verity handled all your travel arrangements — even for your holidays. And she said PoP Tours were very expensive. That was her excuse. They weren’t as expensive as she’d like to have you believe. She was inflating the invoices and keeping the difference for herself.’

  ‘No, Margot, no.’ He exhaled a long breath before asking curiously, ‘And Claudia? Why should she have killed Claudia?’

  ‘Claudia was the first to find out. She confronted Verity and threatened to tell you, perhaps even tell the police. Verity couldn’t face that, so …’ Margot trailed off, she could see Kingsley shaking his head in denial.

  ‘Not plausible, Margot.’ Spite and irony struggled for the ascendancy in his voice. ‘If that had been the situation, it was far more likely that my late lady, in one of her wild antic moods, would have laughed like a drain – and demanded that Verity split the proceeds with her.’

  ‘Kingsley!’

  ‘Come now, Margot. You knew Claudia. You can’t pretend that she was … conventional.’

  ‘No …’ Margot whispered. Conventional was not the word for Claudia. ‘But that was why you married her. Because she was different … exciting … unconventional.’

  ‘Was it? I can hardly remember now.’ The spite won, but it was not directed against her. ‘Unfortunately, I had no idea just how “different” she was. Or, perhaps more accurately, how different she would grow to be. The years change us all – some more than others. Claudia most of all.’

  ‘Kingsley – ’

  ‘I’m only thankful that Lynette doesn’t seem to have inherited Claudia’s wild streak.’

  Wild? Well, yes … at moments. More frequent moments as the years went on, Kingsley seemed to be implying. More disturbingly, he was casting new light on what had always seemed to be a perfect marriage.

  ‘Margot – ’ Kingsley knelt beside her, one hand reaching out to rest lightly on her knee. ‘Try to understand – ’

  Her slight involuntary recoil disturbed Tikki, who yawned and stretched, his extended claws brushing Kingsley’s hand. Kingsley withdrew his hand quickly.

  ‘Margot – ’ He steadied himself by the armrest of the bench instead. ‘I promise you, you’re wrong. Verity had nothing to do with all this.’

  ‘I’m afraid I find that rather hard to believe.’ Everything fitted together so well – especially the part about Kingsley being too trusting. ‘I think we ought to tell the police and let them decide.’

  ‘No, Margot, I can’t let you do this to Verity.’ Kingsley rose, leaning heavily on the armrest. ‘I know none of you have ever liked her, but Verity has been my right arm for many years now. I don’t know what I’d have done without her.’

  ‘Even though she killed your wife?’

  ‘Verity did not kill Claudia.’ Kingsley took a deep unsteady breath. ‘I did.’

  ‘What?’ Margot was on her feet, too, facing him in the deepening twilight. Dislodged, an indignant Tikki hit the lawn and spat a protest before stalking off.

  ‘I didn’t mean to.’ There was a hollow note in his voice. Well, he would say that, wouldn’t he? ‘She shocked me so … and then she tried to throw herself into my arms, laughing, laughing … I just struck out to … to push her away. Verity was right: you can forget you have a knife in your hand.’

  He didn’t seem to have one now. Margot began backing away cautiously.

  ‘No, wait!’ He stretched out an imploring hand, but let it fall when she flinched. ‘Let me explain – ’

  ‘Explain?’ Did he really think that was all that was necessary?

  ‘Let me try. Claudia – ’ His voice broke. ‘You knew Claudia. But you didn’t know the way she was changing – ’

  ‘I hadn’t seen her in the past few years.’

  ‘No, you hadn’t, but it had been going on for longer than that. Ever since —’

  ‘For God’s sake, sit down!’ he snapped suddenly.

  ‘I’m all right as I am.’ Margot gained another backward step. ‘Go on, I’m listening.’

  ‘But are you understanding?’ He took a step in her direction. ‘No, don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.’

  ‘Oh?’ If he had killed his wife, what chance did she have? Perhaps Claudia hadn’t understood, either. If only her legs felt strong enough to sustain her in a sudden dash to the house – and safety. The garden was too dangerous a place with Kingsley in it.

  ‘Claudia was always … erratic. You must admit that. You never knew what she’d do next.’

  He had a point there. Margot nodded careful agreement.

  ‘She thrived on excitement, lived for adventure, was … was addicted to the adrenaline rush. After that first … episode … when we were captured and held hostage … she became worse … more addicted. When we went on subsequent fact-finding missions, she insisted on being taken into the mountains, or the jungle, or wherever “the action” was. She upset our hosts, she worried me, she was beginning to attract the attention of the Foreign Office. I didn’t know what to do.’

  ‘Killing her was a bit extreme.’ The caustic remark slipped out before Margot could stop it.

  ‘It wasn’t necessary … then,’ he said absently. ‘She discovered PoP Tours. I don’t know how. Perhaps someone with her … tastes … told her about them. Perhaps PoP contacted her directly, they seem to have their own ways of knowing who might be interested in what they had to offer.

  ‘I was relieved … at first. I even accompanied her in the beginning – ’ He made a curious sound, half-laugh, half-sob. ‘I wanted to make sure she’d be safe on them. After that, she usually went by herself. Verity was right — their tours were a lot more expensive than most, but they were worth it. They kept Claudia happy.’ ‘Nan said Claudia had just come back from the most wonderful tour of her life,’ Margot said softly.

  ‘Oh, God!’ Kingsley buried his face in his hands. ‘You don’t know why she had such a wonderful time! Why it was the most thrilling trip of her life!’

  ‘No.’ Margot took another step backwards, realising suddenly that she did not want to know.

  ‘You might have guessed. You knew Claudia. When Claudia was happy, it usually meant that she was making someone else miserable.’

  ‘Kingsley!’ But the protest was faint. She had known Claudia – and too many unpleasant possibilities were suddenly crowding into her mind.

  ‘That last most wonderful trip of her life was the one where Claudia crossed the dividing line. She was no longer content to be an observer, she wanted to be a participant. Not because she believed in any particular cause, not that she gave a damn about any rights or wrongs – ’ His voice choked with anguish.

  ‘She just wanted to kill!’

  ‘No!’ The world began spinning around her. Margot stumbled and fell into the nearest chair. She could not disbelieve him. Too many fragmented memories, disjointed phrases in Claudia’s voice, were swirling through her mind.

  ‘How funny … Did you see him jump?’ When Claudia had deliberately aimed the car at the elderly man on the pedestrian crossing, slamming on the brakes at the last possible moment. ‘He thought I was actually going to hit him.’ … ‘Shoplifting? How funny … how funny.’ Wild, wild Claudia, growing ever wilder, until …

  ‘And she did,’ Kingsley went on relentlessly. ‘Some poor bloody peasant, a civilian, going about his lawful concerns, trying to dodge the crossfire between opposing factions. He never even noticed Claudia playing sniper. One moment he was there, the next moment he was a heap of rags in the dust. And Claudia had her great big thrill. Now she knew what it felt like to kill.’

  ‘So do you,’ Margot whispered.

  ‘Not the same,’ he refuted indignantly. ‘Not the same thing at all. I didn
’t do it for a thrill … it was a necessity.’

  ‘Necessity?’

  ‘Don’t you see? She enjoyed it … loved it. It was so much fun for her that she was already planning her next trip. She was going to do it again!’

  ‘No!’ But she knew he was right. Nan had already told her that. ‘Back to the same place …’

  ‘She – she was boasting about it. She couldn’t wait to get back there and play sniper some more. She … she’d turned into a monster. And she laughed and tried to throw herself into my arms. She thought I’d laugh, too. What did a few poverty-stricken peasants matter? I had to stop her. You do understand, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes …’ she whispered, overwhelmed by the thought of the horror and revulsion Kingsley must have felt as he listened to Claudia’s story of her ultimate thrill. No wonder he had lashed out at her unthinkingly – But what was he doing with a knife in his hand in the first place? And also –

  ‘Chloe …’ The sympathy drained away abruptly. ‘How could you have let Chloe take the blame?’

  ‘I didn’t mean to, I swear it. I was going to carry Claudia to the car and drive her somewhere … where I could leave her. Only Lynette appeared suddenly. She didn’t see me; I was in the shadows. She was looking for the cat — he lived here then. She saw her mother, went forward and bent over her. Then Chloe came and saw them both and pulled the knife out. I don’t know what happened next. I … I blacked out. When I came to, I was back in the London flat. I was in shock, I must have driven back to town on automatic pilot …’

  ‘Lynette thought Chloe had killed her mother.’ That was a possibility Margot had considered before. ‘And Chloe thought Lynette had done it.’

  ‘Time warps at a moment like that. Lynette didn’t remember that she got there first. When Chloe pulled out the knife, it must have been such a shock for her that she thought she’d discovered them that way.”

  ‘But, when you found yourself in London, you didn’t come back to clear Chloe.’

  ‘At first, I thought it was all a nightmare. I’d almost convinced myself of that when they rang from St Albans to tell me the news. I went into shock again … had a complete breakdown. The party rushed me into The Priory … I don’t remember much about that time. When I got out, I found that Chloe was in custody. She wouldn’t talk on the phone or answer letters. I began to wonder if Claudia had still been alive when they found her and Chloe had killed her — by pulling out the knife. That can happen, you know.’

  ‘Chloe thought she was protecting Lynette.’ Margot’s sympathy wavered, responding to his need, then falling again as she remembered:

  ‘And what about Polly Parsons?’

  ‘Ah, yes, her.’ He sounded as though he had hoped they could forget about her. ‘She’d been out of the country at that time. An extended round-the-world tour of global destruction, I believe. She was most upset to get back and learn about Claudia. I think she felt she’d lost one of her best clients. She wanted to discuss … taking up the slack, as it were.’

  ‘Blackmail?’ Had Polly Parsons lived on the edge of impersonal peril for so long that she had forgotten how much more dangerous the personal could be?

  ‘Oh, she didn’t call it that. She just said that she knew how thrilled and delighted Claudia had been with her last trip. She knew why, too. She mentioned writing travel articles for magazines … newspapers. I felt she couldn’t be trusted. We’ve had too much experience of chequebook journalism. If the tabloids were to get a whiff of her story —’ He shrugged. ‘I could never afford to pay her enough to match the sums they could offer. It would be front page news – and it would drag us all down – ’

  ‘So you killed her, too.’

  ‘She tripped and fell.’ He was going to stick with that story. ‘Perhaps I wasn’t quite as quick as I might have been in picking her up – and then it was too late. I was thinking about Lynette … about what such a story about her mother might do to her …’

  ‘Not about what it might do to your political career?’ Henry stepped out of the shadows. He patted Margot’s shoulder. ‘Good work, you kept him talking. We heard it all.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘It would mean goodbye to that Cabinet post in the next reshuffle.’ Emmeline stepped out beside Henry.

  They made a formidable pair.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Comfrey first thing in the morning,’ Kingsley assured them. ‘He’ll be able to work out some sort of discreet arrangement with the authorities.’

  Richard and Henry, flanking him as they came out of the study, exchanged glances. Could they trust him?

  ‘Verity can drive me back to town.’ Kingsley was trying to give the impression that he still controlled events.

  ‘You’ll be all right?’ Margot felt compelled to ask, perhaps for old times’ sake.

  ‘Eventually …’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘I’ll have to have a word with the Prime Minister and tender my resignation as soon as I’ve talked with Comfrey. Spare the party as much embarrassment as possible, they’ve had too many scandals in recent years.’

  ‘Scandal?’ Verity was quick to pounce. ‘What do you mean? What’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing. It’s all over. I’ll explain on the way back to town.’ He would have one fully sympathetic listener, at any rate. The discrepancies in his story, already becoming apparent to Margot, would not matter. In Verity’s eyes, he could do no wrong.

  ‘Well …’ Kingsley opened the door and hesitated. Uncle Wilfred nodded. Allowing him a few hours’ grace to try to sort out his affairs had been agreed. It would look a lot better if he went to the police of his own accord.

  ‘Tell Lynette … Tell Lynette …’ Kingsley shook his head, looking from one to the other. ‘Well, you’ll think of something. Just make sure she knows I’ve always loved her.’

  ‘Kingsley -?’ There was a sharp note of anxiety in Verity’s voice. ‘Kingsley, what -?’

  ‘We must be going now.’ He took her arm. ‘Come along … my darling.’

  ‘Oh!’ Verity gasped and looked around to make sure everyone had heard what amounted to a declaration. ‘Yes. Yes, my love.’

  The door closed behind them.

  ‘I suppose he will go back to London?’ Richard questioned uneasily. ‘They won’t go and wrap themselves around a tree, or anything?’

  ‘My money’s on a dash for the nearest port,’ Henry said. ‘A quick trip across to the Continent and then onward to some country we don’t have an extradition treaty with. Too bad he killed his best contact for that sort of thing.’

  ‘But the police …?’ Margot leaned against the wall weakly, although perhaps not as weak as she had been.

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Uncle Wilfred flourished the sheets of paper containing Kingsley’s handwritten confession. Whatever happened, Chloe’s release was ensured.

  ‘The Prime Minister …?’

  ‘It will be in his interests as well as ours to play this down as much as possible,’ Richard said.

  ‘It can’t be long before there’s a plane crash, or natural disaster, or even another scandal.’ Emmeline spoke thoughtfully. ‘The media will go off chasing that and we’ll be forgotten.’

  ‘Really forgotten, this time,’ Henry agreed. ‘A husband murdering his wife isn’t nearly so newsworthy as a twin killing her twin. And with a second woman dead, the whole thing will be presented as some sort of eternal triangle.’

  Much more palatable than the real truth about Claudia — for all concerned. Memories would fade. Perhaps in another term or two, Emmeline could go back to her school. Aunt Milly would improve with Chloe back home where she belonged. The others could go back to their jobs and take up their lives again.

  And Lynette …?

  Behind them, the stair creaked and they turned to see Lynette slowly and carefully descending, cradling Tikki in her arms. She looked up and became aware of her audience.

  ‘Emmeline took my bell away,’ she complained. �
��And Tikki’s hungry. He wants his dinner.’ She glanced uneasily at Uncle Wilfred and added, ‘He’s going to be a good boy and stay home now. He promised me.’

  ‘He’s been spending a lot more time here of late,’ Emmeline said. ‘Perhaps he is back.’

  ‘Perhaps?’ Uncle Wilfred gave Tikki an indignant glare. Tikki gave him a melting look in return. He softened. ‘Oh, well, give him the benefit of the doubt, eh? Live and let —’ Automatically, he broke off, then seemed to realise that such care was no longer necessary. ‘Let live!’ he finished triumphantly. ‘Live and let live!’

  ‘That’s the spirit!’ Emmeline applauded. ‘Just a little while longer and we can all get back to our own lives.’

  A little while longer. What a comforting euphemism for ‘one last scandal’ —or possibly not, depending on Kingsley’s next move. Surely he would try to shield Lynette from any more hurt; wouldn’t he?

  No one quite dared to remark on Lynette’s sudden appearance among them, perhaps afraid that they might startle her into a retreat. It had been a big step for her to take. There were still so many steps to go. So far, so good. Softly … softly …

  Margot closed her eyes briefly and was aware of the comforting pressure of Richard’s arm supporting her and Nan’s hand patting her shoulder. She opened her eyes and smiled at them. Whatever happened about Kingsley, life would go forward and she had steps of her own to take.

  She’d have her good cameras sent on to her from New York. Yes, and she’d keep the apartment there. If the show transferred to Broadway, it would be useful for Christa to have a place to stay. Nor was it likely to be too long before Justin and Fenella got a New York booking. Yes, a family pied-a-terre in Manhattan would be endlessly useful.

  ‘Our Margot has come home,’ Uncle Wilfred put an arm around Lynette’s shoulders, urging her forward. ‘Your Aunt Chloe will be home any day, so why not Tikki, too? Come along, I happen to know there’s a very tasty bit of salmon hidden away at the back of the fridge. I was saving it for myself, but —’ A beatific smile lit his face. ‘I’m not all that hungry somehow. I’ll share it with you and Tikki.’

 

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