4 Camera ... Action ... Murder!

by Faith Mortimer

  “I’d be grateful if you could spare a half hour or so. I really do need to talk to you. You seem to be the only one who believes my innocence in this whole affair—apart from Francine, who’s known me for too many years. Do say you’ll come. You can be back there in less than an hour. It’s only minutes away, after all.

  Diana was torn. She wanted to speak to Adam, but there again, he would question Sebastian with Barbara present. She wasn’t going to be allowed to sit in and listen to what the police had to say. If she went to Duncan’s for a brief visit, she could be back within the hour as he said. Besides, she did want to see him, and she was intrigued to hear what he wanted to tell her.

  “Okay, Duncan. I’m on my way,” she said while performing a three-point turn in the country road. She prayed nothing would come along before she straightened up. “I really can’t stay too long, but I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

  As soon as she sped off in the opposite direction she wondered if she was being daft in charging around the countryside. Steve would be furious with her. She considered what she had already told Adam and decided he had enough to go on, especially once he questioned Sebastian and added his own conclusions to her findings. She had enough time to make both visits, and she thought she owed it to Duncan to hear what he had to say. She knew Adam would disapprove, as he disliked the theatrical director, but that was a personal thing. She knew Adam could sometimes be just plain awkward.

  She wondered exactly what revelations (she had no doubt there were still matters Sebastian was keeping to himself) Adam would discover from the young man. Di pictured Adam going painstakingly through Sebastian’s statement, acting the sympathetic copper and then tearing him and his account to shreds. She shuddered. Adam was ruthless when he was on the case.

  She wondered what would have become of them if they had got married. Life wouldn’t have been dull, that was for sure. You never knew where you were with him. Adam could be as temperamental as a homicidal maniac when it suited. Urbane, charming, and charismatic one moment, and the next, well, he didn’t like to be thwarted that was for sure. She grinned to herself. She wasn’t married to him! She had someone much more trustworthy and loving.

  The gates of Havershall House appeared round the bend sooner than she expected and Diana turned into the drive. As she approached the house, she slowed the car and looked around at the grounds. It was hard to believe what had happened only a few days ago. She recalled everyone arriving in good spirits and expecting a jolly old time with plenty of good food and wine. Yet within twenty-four hours later, a beautiful young woman had tragically drowned, followed by the strangulation of the lady of the house. It was frightening, and Diana recognised if she had been of a more delicate constitution she would never have returned. Friend or no friend.

  She drew up to the front door and switched off the engine. Within seconds, the same young manservant who had first greeted her and Steve was opening her door and eagerly helping her out. “Mrs Rivers, isn’t it? Mr Macpherson is expecting you. They’re in the drawing room. May I escort you?”

  Diana returned the young man’s tentative smile. “Thank you, but there’s no need. I know the way, and I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do.”

  He hesitated and looked down at his feet. “Actually, I’m a bit at a loose end. I’m sorry if you think I’m speaking out of turn, but Mr Macpherson has been keeping to his room mostly. He’s eating very little, and me and Mrs Smith, the housekeeper, are worried about him. Thank goodness you’re here. Lady Elder arrived at lunchtime, and I think they’ve upset each other.”

  “I’m sorry too. It’s John, isn’t it? Did you get on with Mrs Macpherson when she was alive?”

  “Yes, ma’am, it is. Mrs Macpherson? Not really. She was a hard lady to work for. You never knew where you stood with her. Between you and me, and I know we shouldn’t criticise the dead, she always put her own comforts first.”

  Diana smiled encouragingly willing him to continue. “Things like what?”

  John quickly looked around him before lowering his voice. “Perhaps I shouldn’t say this, but it’s common knowledge now anyway that she had a boyfriend.”

  Diana raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Do you mean Andrew Downs from Lodestone?”

  Looking relieved, he bobbed his head up and down eagerly. “Yes. They’ve been ‘friends’ like that for some time. Every time he came down to stay, in fact.”

  “Yes, but what has this got to do with Mrs Macpherson putting her own comforts first.”

  “I’m sorry, I’ve got away from the point. Mrs Smith is always telling me off for that. She says I don’t concentrate properly. Perhaps I don’t.”

  Diana waited.

  “Right. I just think it’s strange that if she really liked Mr Downs, then why did she leave him on his own that morning she got killed? Perhaps if she’d stayed with him, she’d still be alive. He was ever so ill, and she didn’t care. I was on early that morning, and I remember what she said when she was leaving her room. I heard her open her bedroom door, and then she told him to go back and be sick in his own room because she didn’t appreciate vomit in her personal toilet. She didn’t know I was just around the corner, or she might have been a bit nicer to him. Anyway, Mr Downs asked for some water, and she said there was some on the side table and he could help himself. Don’t you think it was horrible of her? Mr Downs left her room soon after, and I heard him being sick again in his own bathroom.”

  “Did you tell the police this?”

  He looked sheepish. “Not exactly. You see, at the time I was questioned I didn’t want Mr Macpherson to know she was sleeping with another man. I didn’t think it right that they should be doing it right under the same roof as him. So I never said anything about Mr Downs being in her room. I just said I saw her leaving hers early that morning.”

  “I see. I don’t think it matters now because most people seem to know, and Mr Macpherson certainly does, John. The police are coming here later this afternoon, and I think you should mention this. You don’t want to get into trouble yourself, do you? But you’re right. She seemed very thoughtless and uncaring over other people. I wonder what made Mr Downs so ill.”

  “I don’t know. When I took him some fresh water, later in the morning, I asked him if he was feeling any better. He said he was a bit, and then said it was the last time he would drink dodgy neat spirits without eating food. When I looked puzzled, he said the last drink he’d been given tasted odd, and he put it down to an empty stomach. Nobody ate much that evening any way.”

  Diana was puzzled. Nobody else was ill the next day, so Andrew couldn’t have eaten anything that was off. Clare said he suffered from migraine, and they assumed that had caused his sickness. Perhaps someone had slipped him something, but why? Unless whoever Isabelle arranged to meet early that day knew of her sleeping arrangements and didn’t want Andrew interfering by either preventing her going out or by being curious and following her. There must have been something in Andrew’s drink that night to make him sick.

  “Diana, at last!” Duncan’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she turned round to greet him and the attractive woman standing by his side. “It’s all right, John,” Duncan continued. “You can go and see if Mrs Smith has anything she needs doing in the kitchen.”

  The manservant left them and disappeared round the back of the house in the direction of the kitchen. Diana felt sorry for the young man. He was obviously bored from the lack of guests, and with no one to run around after he was sentenced to assisting the dour Mrs Smith in her kitchen.

  Diana moved over to the steps to greet Duncan. He grasped her by the shoulders and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Diana, I don’t believe you’ve met my friend, Francine. Francine this is Diana, whom I was telling you about.”

  Diana returned his greeting and reached out to shake the older woman’s hand. Even if she didn’t know beforehand she was Caroline’s mother, Diana could see the resemblance between the two. Francine wore her hair i
n a smooth mid-length bob, and although not the same colour as Caroline’s, the added blonde streaks to her overall greyness showed it was similar in texture. She possessed the same high cheek bones and was of a similar build, but it was her startlingly beautiful green eyes which captured Diana’s attention. There was no doubt Diana was looking at an older Caroline.

  In return, Diana felt the woman’s frank appraisal as her gaze swept from her head to her feet. She knew she passed muster when Francine smiled and joined her cool hand to her own.

  “Shall we go in?” Duncan asked, indicating they should precede him. Diana followed Francine into the house and down the hall towards the drawing room. Once they were seated, she took a good hard stare at Duncan and realised from his grey and drawn look that he was suffering. His eyes were red-rimmed like Francine’s, and she suspected they had been recently weeping. She turned to Francine and offered her condolences.

  Francine gave Diana a small smile and gravely nodded her thanks. Being a mother herself, Diana could only imagine what she going through. She corrected herself: what they were both going through. Judging by their dejected appearances they were both heartbroken over Caroline’s death.

  Duncan stood up and wandered around the room. “Thank you for coming, Diana. I realise how difficult this must be for you, but I need to talk to someone—actually, we both do. If I felt any sort of rapport with your policeman friend, then I would be having this discussion with him. I’m sorry I don’t, but there it is. We’re all different, and some people we can’t like no matter how hard we try. He’s got me marked down as a murderer even though the evidence is all circumstantial. I first met him years ago when you had that shocking experience in the theatre. I felt he didn’t handle that situation very well at all. He failed to find the perpetrator or whether there was any connection between your attack and the murder of those other poor women. Then recently, he’s been banging away at me and my so-called gambling debts, as if that’s any of his concern or even relevant. My wife has been murdered. Money is not the issue here. Murder is. Isabelle and I may not have had the best of relationships, but we were man and wife. She was a bully, yes. She gave me money for my projects, yes. But remember, she did it because she enjoyed having power over me. It wasn’t from the goodness of her heart. She hardly noticed the amounts she tossed my way. But what she really hated and couldn’t condone was my friendships with other women even though she didn’t want me for myself. Some women she bought off. Some she threatened and frightened away. She found ways to get rid of them.” He made a face and swung round to look at Diana.

  “But do you know what? She couldn’t frighten me off Caroline. And do you know why?” His face took on such a hollow and desperate bleakness, Diana felt a real pang of tenderness. She stood up and went over to him.

  “Yes, I do,” she said softly, putting her arms round him. “You were her father. She was your and Francine’s love child.”

  At her words, his face seemed to crumple, and he broke down. He covered his eyes with his hands, and loud sobs tore deep from within him. Francine stood up, clasping her hands together, and Diana could see tears cascading down her face. “Duncan, darling—”

  Chapter 27

  The tall grandfather clock in the room sounded overly loud as Diana stood helplessly by. Francine and Duncan were joined together by their misery, and despite wanting to give them comfort, Diana didn’t know where to begin. Eventually they got their grief under control and Duncan turned to Diana with a question upon his lips.

  “How did you know?”

  Diana sat back down in her seat and leant forward. She thought she had better choose her words with care. Duncan and Francine were still very much in shock, and she didn’t want to add to their misery.

  “I think there were lots of little things I noticed without realising. Foremost, although Caroline looked very much like her mother, she bore a strong resemblance to you. It wasn’t so much her features, but the way she stood or carried herself and some of her mannerisms. I know I hardly knew her, but perhaps it’s because I was seeing her with a fresh eye that I noticed this. The next thing is a little delicate, and I do apologise. Some people seemed to think you and she were lovers, but I never quite believed that. Watching you together was more like watching two best friends. You were always kind and caring towards her. I never noticed you behaving inappropriately or touching her in public. You were the perfect gentleman. I can’t explain, but deep down I just knew. When you mentioned last night that her mother was coming down to see you, I was immediately convinced I was right. Am I right in assuming this isn’t common knowledge?”

  It was Francine’s turn to join in the conversation. She turned her lovely emerald green eyes to Diana and nodded her head. “We’ve never told anyone the truth about Caroline’s paternity. Some people may have guessed if they knew both of us well, but we never heard anything. When Duncan and I parted, I was already expecting. Our relationship had run its course, and we never saw the need to get married just to make her birth legal. By then, I had already met and fallen in love with my husband, Thomas. We agreed not to say anything because of his political career, and some people can be very nasty when they get whiff of a possible scandal. I know having a child before marriage is commonplace nowadays, but we thought it better to keep it to ourselves. Thomas accepted Caroline as his own daughter, and we lived as a normal family.”

  “Did Caroline know about her real father?”

  “She did. Once she was an adult, we thought it best to prepare her in case the press found out. These days, no one is exempt from their ghastly prying and underhand practices when dealing with people in the public eye. Once she understood, she didn’t seem to mind and even liked the idea of having ‘two’ fathers. She got on well with Thomas and said it wouldn’t make any difference to her, because she believed he was her ‘true’ father. As she grew older and decided she wanted to make acting her career, she started asking questions about her director father. I contacted Duncan and said I believed she saw him as a means to an end. Caroline and Duncan met a few times when she was small, but up until then we didn’t have much contact with each other. We talked it over with Thomas, and he was happy for Caroline to meet and have a proper relationship with Duncan. He said it might be a good idea, as Duncan had many contacts throughout the industry. As long as nothing was said about her true parentage, he couldn’t see any harm befalling his own career. Caroline and Duncan met and began to see one another a few times a year. It wasn’t until about nine months ago that Caroline insisted on seeing Duncan more often and on a regular basis. She wanted to be a successful actress, and Duncan was delighted to help her.”

  “I see. And are you sure no one knew the truth?” Diana asked.

  Francine and Duncan looked at one another, and Francine shrugged. “We can’t be sure of course, but hopefully no.”

  Diana wondered whether anyone did know. If so, would this have any bearing on her death? Sebastian was the nearest to Caroline, yet he believed she and Duncan were lovers until Caroline told him otherwise. Patrick and Joanna might have guessed, so too Clare, as she was pretty astute and had guessed about Sebastian. And then there was Russell and Isabelle. Isabelle had been quite the queen of deviousness, and Diana decided she could put money on her knowing. Russell too, for that matter; he seemed to make everyone’s business his own. It dawned on Diana that Russell had never actually accused Caroline of having an affair with her benefactor. Her discovery made her turn cold, but she still needed the answers to a few more questions.

  “So, you’ve yet to tell the police about this?” Diana addressed Duncan, and he nodded slowly. “I’m afraid so.” He slumped down in a chair and sighed. “No doubt he’ll see this as another black mark to pin against me. I’m not looking forward to our next meeting. I had my solicitor with me last night to make sure I said nothing incriminating. Perhaps I’d better ring him and ask him to stand by!” He flashed a rueful look at the two women with him.

  “I’ll help you out when
Adam arrives, he’ll listen to me. There’s one question I would like to clarify with you, if I may. You told Adam the whole filming affair was Isabelle’s idea. Did that include the boating scene too?”

  “Yes. Isabelle was mad for publicity because, for once, she was in the limelight too. She knew about the soliloquy and dreamt up the whole thing. She even found the right boat and had it hand-painted the right colours and pattern to convey the period. I’m afraid it was a publicity stunt that went horribly wrong.” He held his head in his hands again, groaned, then looked up. His face held a savage expression. “Except, of course someone meant it to go wrong. They knew about it and sabotaged the boat.”

  “She planned the publicity with Andrew Downs, didn’t she? Had they known each other for long?”

  “Yes, she did. I’m not sure how long she’d known him. I’m presuming you mean ‘known’ in the biblical sense? I’d always suspected, since Andrew did stay with us rather a lot, and Isabelle made numerous trips to London. I wasn’t bothered—our sexual relationship ended years ago.”

  Diana felt mixed emotions run through her: excitement and at the same time she sensed a deep disappointment. She was almost positive she knew who the killer was, but she was unhappy with her deductions.