Murder in Abbot's Folly

by Amy Myers

  ‘It did, and in a way it still does. But it’s settled now, for me anyway, and confirms what you told me about the meeting with Douglas. But my poor mother – I can’t bear it.’

  Dora put her arm round her. ‘I’ll look after you, Jennifer.’ And looking at her, Georgia believed she would.

  ‘What about Jake?’ she asked. ‘How’s he taken it?’

  ‘On the chin,’ Jennifer replied. ‘He was half-prepared for it, but it meant working flat out to recast the working script of questions and answers for the presenter, and Dora, Jill and Phil for the interview questions.’

  Georgia grimaced. ‘How’s Phil taken it?’

  ‘Don’t ask,’ Jennifer said. ‘He’s Jake’s problem, luckily.’

  ‘And your father?’

  ‘You mean Tim – they tend to mean more or less the same thing at the moment. Answer: let’s just say I’m glad Jake’s on my side.’ Jennifer managed a grin. ‘And as for Douglas, guess where he is?’

  ‘A thousand miles away, I hope.’

  ‘Here.’

  ‘I suppose,’ Georgia said, when she had recovered her breath, ‘it’s me that’s crazy, not the rest of the world.’

  ‘I’m with you,’ Jennifer said.

  ‘And so am I,’ Dora said firmly. ‘That awful man. And to think I made some raspberry fritters specially for him.’

  ‘What’s he doing here?’ Georgia asked in bewilderment.

  ‘Believe it or not, Jake’s using him as his presenter.’ Jennifer caught Georgia’s expression and managed to laugh. ‘Better to have your enemy within your sights, Georgia.’

  ‘But presenter? Is Jake out of his mind? Does he trust him?’ Georgia supposed Jennifer was right, however, and she tried to remember she herself was only a visitor here today.

  ‘If he goes off course, Jake has the last word. He won’t use the film.’

  ‘So what’s the new script about, if there’s no Harker and no love affair?’

  ‘It’s clever. Jake’s concentrating on The Watsons and its links with Edgar House for today. There’s no doubt that Jane knew the Edgar Arms from her journeys to Godmersham. Nor is there any doubt that the Edgar Arms had Assembly Rooms in Jane Austen’s time and that William Harker existed, if Douglas is speaking the truth. Oh!’ Jennifer’s face fell as she realized what she had said, and Georgia laughed. ‘Anyway, come and see what Jake’s up to.’

  Dora hurried them up the stairs to the first floor. She was a stately figure in her chatelaine’s outfit for the TV film, a flowing blue chiffon skirt with matching jacket and pearls. When they reached the entrance to the Assembly Rooms, Georgia’s initial reaction was that she’d walked into Alice in Wonderland, at the point where the gardeners were busy rushing around getting ready for the arrival of the Queen of Hearts by painting the white roses red. The transformation in progress here was just as startling. Someone had performed a miracle by transforming the drab carpet flooring into polished floorboards, candle holders adorned the bright decorated walls, and elegant chairs were clustered along the walls and round the fireside. There was a group of extras in Regency dress, and she could see the camera and lighting crews with their gear hard at work.

  Jake came to greet them, looking as if he welcomed a break. ‘We’ve already shot the room before the makeover,’ he explained. ‘Now we’re heavily into 1802.’

  ‘What are you planning to film here?’ Georgia tried not to sound suspicious that romance might be about to make a re-entry.

  ‘Nuts, aren’t we? But I’d already hired the cast and costumes, so why not use them? It was going to be a gentle, unfocused scene which would blur back to Edgar House today, but now we’re planning an in-focus scene of the dance in The Watsons, then a dissolve back to the presenter.’

  ‘One of the cast is in naval costume,’ Jennifer pointed out.

  ‘Give me a break, Jen,’ Jake said wearily. ‘I’ve paid for it, so I might as well use it. And Harker did stay here.’

  ‘So Douglas Watts says.’

  ‘I checked it out with the archives myself. Satisfied? So as long as we don’t stray into disputed territory we’re safe.’

  ‘And at Stourdens too?’ she asked doubtfully. ‘What about the love affair there? What else do you have?’

  ‘The visits Jane would have made to Stourdens. Look, I’ll cope.’ Jake sighed. ‘Take a look at this lot.’ He waved an arm over the Assembly Rooms. ‘You can see how much organization goes into one of these days. I’ve got actors hired, catering fixed, costumes, cameras, traffic, transport – it’s a miracle that anything ever gets organized at all, let alone postponed as the whole approach changed like this. I’ve been closeted with my AD; he’s in charge of the schedule. If we are to finish this room by lunchtime that will be a miracle in itself. Douglas, incidentally, is busy with his new script. He’s as meek as a lamb.’

  With a wolf inside, Georgia thought cynically. ‘What are you filming this afternoon?’

  ‘Tracking shots, following the arrival of the Edwards family and Emma Watson from the courtyard then upstairs past Tom Musgrave’s room – I’ve upgraded an extra to pop out of his room as in the novel. Pity the arched entry into the courtyard has been built over.’

  At Dora’s look of alarm in case Jake decided to knock it down, Jake hastily added, ‘Don’t worry, we’ll manage. I have to be off – they’re signalling picture’s up. In other words we’re ready to go. You’ll be next, Dora, but it will be a while yet.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Dora lamented as they retired out of the firing line. ‘It was going to be such fun, but I feel as if we’ve unleashed a hurricane.’

  ‘So do I,’ Jennifer said bitterly. ‘Let’s find ourselves a coffee.’

  Georgia excused herself from joining them, preferring to watch the filming. It was a slow process, however, and having seen three takes of the Sir Roger de Coverley she decided she might achieve more elsewhere. She knew Peter would be trying to reach Douglas by phone today, but it was far more likely that she would find him first. Whatever his function in the film, he was a captive here, and for once not in control.

  She passed Gerald as she walked along the corridor to the stairs, but he said nothing, merely acknowledging her presence with a curt nod. When she poked her head into the room where the letters were kept, however, she was rewarded – if that was the right word – by seeing Douglas. He was calmly reading a newspaper. Not his script, she noted, and furthermore there was no sign of the showcase containing the letters.

  He promptly rose to his feet. ‘Ah, Miss Marsh, enjoying the fantasy?’

  ‘Which fantasy?’ she replied lightly. ‘If yours, I’m afraid not.’

  He looked reproachful. ‘I was referring to Edgar House dolled up as an early-nineteenth-century pleasure palace.’

  ‘I’m told you’re the new presenter for today’s filming. Isn’t it hard to reconcile that role with the one you boasted about to my father and me?’

  ‘A mere fantasy on your part, Miss Marsh. However, I did enjoy our lunch with your father. Such a pity I had to leave early.’

  ‘You haven’t won yet,’ Georgia said, ‘so don’t be too confident.’

  ‘Dear me, I am terrified.’

  ‘I hope with reason.’ Georgia was surprised to find herself shaking and remembered all too clearly that Douglas Watts might be a murderer – twice over. ‘I shall work out how you managed that trick with your studio.’

  ‘Shall?’ Douglas queried. ‘That word implies that no doubt exists. But I think it does. If you’ll excuse me, I have a script to present. Oh,’ he added as he passed her, ‘by the way, Esther Tanner is here with her current husband. Nice chap. She deserves a bit of luck after that skunk Max.’

  He looked highly pleased with himself, Georgia noted. Not for long, she vowed as she went back to the ground floor. If she were Jake, she would be very worried about what Douglas might slip into his presentation. Or Philip, come to that. She made allowances for Philip, however. He must be shattered at the news that Jennifer
had brought. Far from being a careful interviewee, he must be considering his options if his publishers took the same view as Jake. Better safe than sorry.

  Why were the Wilsons back here? she wondered as she walked through the living room. Just visitors, as she was, or was Jake going to give Esther a grilling over the forged letters? And it was odd that Tim hadn’t turned up, or Roy.

  She made her way to the kitchen, where she found Barbara and her team laying out the lunch ready to take into the garden and courtyard. She’d seen her van in front of the house, so the hard work was probably done at home in the new purpose-built kitchen. Today it was not Jane Austen food, however. She could see delicious-looking quiches, salads and plates of sandwiches. She didn’t want to interrupt the flow and was about to retreat when Barbara noticed her and waved.

  ‘How’s it going?’ Georgia called, and Barbara came across to her.

  ‘Good, thanks. Funny being back here. I nearly went into the old kitchen. They’ve changed it around. It used to be right behind the bar, but it’s a storeroom now.’

  ‘Craig not with you?’

  ‘No, it’s a dry lunch. Odd for an old pub, but Jake said he wasn’t taking any risks. No relaxing. It all has to be shot today. Like the old days, it is, only it’s Jake shouting the odds and not Max.’

  ‘I’m told Esther Tanner is here.’

  ‘Is she?’ Barbara looked interested. ‘I’ll look forward to seeing Madam High and Mighty at closer quarters. See that photo outside in the corridor? Stuck-up cow, she was. It’s one of the photos Max took every New Year of staff and a few regulars. That was the last one, 1985. His idea of our all being chummy.’

  ‘I’ll take a look at it,’ Georgia assured her, kicking herself for never asking the Clackingtons if they had any pictures of the old pub and staff. ‘Right now,’ she added, realizing she was holding Barbara up.

  The photo was taken in the front of the pub with a grinning Max (she presumed) in the middle. He was a tall, stocky man, with an easily recognizable Esther at his side. A young Barbara was on his other side, with a man’s arm round her shoulders. It took a few minutes for it to dawn on Georgia that it was Tom Miller, then a good-looking flaxen-haired young man, cocksure and arrogant, the leader of the pack. He had not changed much in that way. For some reason Barbara had wanted her to see this photo, Georgia realized – could that reason be Tom Miller?

  She was still thinking of him as she went in search of Jennifer again. The filming must be behind because the crew was still in the assembly room. She could see Jennifer, standing with Phil, in the corridor – that couldn’t be a happy conversation, unless they had talked out or postponed their differences.

  ‘Have you had your moment of glory, Jennifer?’ she asked as she joined them.

  ‘Not me,’ Jennifer answered. ‘Phil’s had one, haven’t you?’

  ‘Did it go well?’ Georgia asked him.

  ‘Thanks, yes,’ came the brief reply – although not, Georgia thought, antagonistic. Perhaps he’d faced facts, or rather fakes.

  ‘Phil did a good job,’ Jennifer assured her, ‘keeping to Jane’s visits to Kent and how she travelled and Edgar House’s role in that.’

  ‘And Douglas,’ Phil added meaningfully, ‘did well on the Harker side, talking about the Napoleonic wars and his staying in the Edgar Arms with his brother, and how he later married Lady Edgar at Stourdens. All true, of course.’

  ‘I’m sure Jake will be monitoring it,’ Georgia replied sweetly, but was taken aback when Philip flushed and did not reply. Not so hard-boiled then. ‘Were you happy with the new approach, Jennifer?’ she asked.

  She replied without hesitation. ‘I don’t think Douglas would dare go off script now. Tim popped in to see him earlier. Tim’s been as good as gold. He told me he had in fact suspected there might be an authentication issue, but didn’t want to face it. He agrees that we and Jake should keep off dangerous territory.’

  ‘Lucky for some,’ Philip said ironically.

  ‘I’m sorry about your book,’ Jennifer said, ‘but we really don’t have any choice.’

  Philip shrugged. ‘What do you expect me to do though? Tell my publishers that one daft female and just one expert have bees in their bonnets and maybe they should scrap the book?’

  ‘Not so daft,’ Georgia rejoined. ‘And perhaps the mistake was yours in building a book’s thesis on one opinion.’

  ‘Find twenty-four experts and you’ll have twenty-four opinions,’ Philip exclaimed with disgust. ‘I can’t get Jake to understand that.’

  Jake must have heard his raised voice, because he promptly came over to them. ‘Georgia’s right, Phil,’ he said quietly. ‘I have to act on the verdict that Jen’s been given, even if it’s not set in stone yet.’

  ‘Whose bloody side are you on?’ Philip exploded.

  ‘Mine, and all these people I’m employing at vast expense. I realize I’m luckier than you, because I can switch themes, albeit with difficulty. You can’t.’

  ‘My problem,’ Philip replied wearily.

  ‘Is there nothing I can do?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Yes. Show some guts,’ Philip retorted. ‘You were eager enough to scent a scoop at first. And nothing has happened to change that.’

  Shaken, Jake did not reply, but Jennifer did. ‘Something did change,’ she whipped back. ‘My mother was murdered, Phil, just as she was going to put a stop to this fantasy. Then Amelia Luckhurst was murdered. Coincidence? I don’t think so.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Philip shook his head, perhaps in disbelief at what he’d said, and walked unsteadily away.

  ‘He’ll come round,’ Jake said, ‘once he’s sorted this mess out. I’m afraid this is the end of a beautiful relationship though. I told him yesterday that I was moving out and did so right away. I’ve been thinking about it for some time, and this Austen business has brought it to a head.’

  ‘What will you do if he pulls out of the film?’ Georgia asked.

  ‘No problem. I’m pretty sure he’ll go on with his other scripted pieces, but if he doesn’t I’ll get Jill to do the lot at the Stourdens filming. Don’t worry about it, Jen,’ he added. ‘We’ll be there as planned.’

  Jennifer leaned forward and kissed his cheek. ‘Thanks, Jake.’

  ‘All in a day’s work.’

  ‘And for you and Phil?’ Georgia asked.

  He pulled a face. ‘The land of lost loves is heavily populated. I’ll recover. So will he.’ A pause. ‘Look, Jennifer, I’m going to have to tell you, it’s gone too far not to. Your mother did tell us that morning that she had just been told the collection was fake and that she was going to talk to you about it afterwards. We truly didn’t believe her and thought we had time to discuss it with her.’

  Jennifer stared at him aghast. ‘Then why did you, Phil and Tim attack Georgia and me over whether it was faked or not?’

  ‘Because Laura didn’t name Douglas. She just said she had good reason to believe it was all faked and so was not going ahead with the Stourdens’ plans. Tim nearly went spare. Roy was yelling at her, and Phil and I were just poleaxed.’

  ‘And no one remembered to tell me – or the police, come to that?’ Jennifer asked angrily.

  ‘We thought the jury was still out, that’s why,’ Jake repeated. ‘Tim said he knew Amelia Luckhurst had been to see Laura, clearly bent on making mischief. I began to get cold feet and decided I needed a plan B. I was still thinking about it when Georgia came into the picture with her story. Phil was sure it was more of the same baloney, but it all began to make terrible sense for me. What better mask for a faker than to be a specialist in the subject? I’m sorry, Jen. Roy and Tim were adamant that I shouldn’t tell you, it would be the last straw and I wasn’t thinking straight. It never occurred to me – crazy though this might sound – that it could have had anything to do with Laura’s death.’

  ‘And did it?’ Jennifer asked quietly.

  ‘I don’t know. I just don’t.’

  Jennifer said nothing, pe
rhaps because the facts were so clear, Georgia thought. Only the fakes linked both deaths.

  Lunch in the Edgar House garden offered a welcome interlude, even if Georgia’s ideal choice of companions wouldn’t have been Esther and David Wilson, Jennifer’s presence notwithstanding. They were a curious couple, she thought. She spoke to them and received replies, but without getting much impression of the kind of people they were. Barbara and her helpers had laid the buffet out in the kitchen for everyone to help themselves, but every so often she appeared in the gardens. As now. Georgia could see that not surprisingly she had her eyes fixed on their table. Barbara can’t take her eyes off Esther, she noticed, and wondered again what had gone on between the two women in 1985.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ Barbara said. She looked almost shocked as she came over to the table. ‘Quite like old times.’

  Esther seemed equally taken aback. ‘No one told me Barbara was coming,’ she accused Jennifer when Barbara moved away.

  Jennifer stared at her in amazement. ‘She has the catering contract. Why should I have told you?’

  The moment passed, but even so when Georgia went to the kitchen to return dirty plates, she was concerned at how white Barbara still looked. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

  ‘Just seeing Madam again,’ was the reply. ‘It’s made me feel quite faint.’

  Georgia was uncomfortably aware that Barbara’s eyes followed her out to the garden again, and that when Barbara next emerged into the garden herself she was still staring at them. The Wilsons seemed ill at ease too, when Georgia returned to their table.

  ‘Tim told us about the faked Austen letters, Jennifer,’ Esther said. ‘I hope you don’t think that Max and I knew they were faked. Or that Max was scheming with Amelia and Bob in any way. To him everything was genuine.’

  ‘That seems unlikely,’ Georgia pointed out. ‘Amelia knew they were faked, and Bob did too. So did Douglas Watts, and Max Tanner doesn’t sound to me an ingenuous person, though I can well understand he might have let you think they were genuine.’