‘You’d better tell me everything,’ Paula said as steadily as she could, even though her sense of dread was mounting by the second.
Edwina gulped. ‘Yes, I think I must. The trouble started a month ago actually. Min came down here – she’s been living in Waterford – and started to make a nuisance of herself, caused the most horrendous scenes. Sometimes she was really sloshed, reeling from drink. She and Anthony had fierce quarrels and there were some unfortunate scenes in front of the staff, the estate workers, and even a nasty confrontation one afternoon in the village, when she accosted Anthony. All the rows, the violence, have inevitably caused gossip, and Sally Harte’s presence here earlier this summer hasn’t done anything to help the situation. You know what people are like in a small place, Paula. Gossip is their way of life. There’s been an awful lot of talk – distressing talk – about the other woman.’
Paula groaned inwardly. ‘Let’s go back for a moment. What did you mean when you referred to violence?’
‘Oh violent words mostly. Shouting and screaming on Min’s part, but Anthony did become enraged last weekend when she showed up on Saturday. At dinner time. He had guests. I was there. They had a fight, a verbal fight that is, and she hit Anthony with a golf club. He pushed her away from him, a natural reaction, I suppose. She fell though, in the hall. Min wasn’t really hurt, but she pretended she was. She was overly dramatic about it, screamed something about Anthony wanting her –’
‘Yes, Aunt Edwina, go on,’ Paula encouraged as the silence lengthened.
There was a sound of harsh breathing before Edwina told Paula, with a sob, ‘Min shouted something about Anthony wanting her dead and buried and that she wouldn’t be surprised if she was found murdered. And very soon. Several people heard her say this. I did myself.’
‘Oh my God!’ Paula’s heart sank and her apprehension spiralled into genuine fear. She did not think for a single moment that her cousin had killed his wife, but it was suddenly apparent to her why the police harboured suspicions about Anthony. Her mind momentarily floundered, then rallied, as she told herself she had to come to grips with this dilemma. But where to begin? Who to enlist?
Paula said in a strong, calm voice that belied her inner nervousness, ‘All the gossip, the scenes are meaningless in the long run. The police need hard evidence before they can do anything – arrest Anthony, accuse him of killing her. When did she drown? What about an alibi? Surely Anthony has one.’
‘They’re not sure about the time of death…at least that’s what they say. I think they’re doing an autopsy,’ Edwina went on miserably. ‘Alibi? No, that’s the terrible part, Anthony doesn’t have one.’
‘Where was he yesterday? Last night? Those must be the crucial hours.’
‘Last night,’ Edwina repeated as if she was confused. Then she said quickly, ‘Yes, yes, I see what you mean. Min arrived at Clonloughlin at about five o’clock yesterday. I saw her driving up – from my bedroom window in the Dower House. I phoned Anthony to warn him. He was annoyed. He told me he was going to hop into his old land rover and drive out to the lake – in the hopes of avoiding her.’
‘And he did that? Went out to the lake?’ Paula asked.
‘Yes. But she must have seen him driving off in that direction or she simply second guessed where he had gone…it was one of his favourite spots. She followed him out there. And –’
‘They had a quarrel at the lake?’ Paula cut in.
‘Oh no. He never even spoke to her!’ Edwina cried. ‘You see, he saw her mini in the distance – the land is flat around the far side of the lake. He simply got back into the land rover and was going to return to the house the long way around. But he hadn’t driven very far when the land rover conked out. Anthony left it parked and started to walk home. He wanted to avoid Min…don’t you understand?’
‘Yes. And he left the land rover near the lake, is that what you’re saying?’ Paula demanded, wondering if this was incriminating or not.
‘Of course he left it there, it wouldn’t start,’ Edwina was saying, her high-pitched voice trembling again.
‘Please don’t cry, Aunt Edwina,’ Paula pleaded. ‘It’s essential that you control yourself. Please.’
‘Yes. Yes. I’ll try.’ she sniffed.
Paula heard her blowing her nose and then her aunt resumed, ‘You don’t know Clonloughlin, Paula, it’s vast. It took Anthony an hour to walk back. He had to go up the hill, through the wood and several fields to get to the road that cuts across the estate and leads to the village. He – ’
‘Road!’ Paula exclaimed, seizing on this fact immediately. ‘Didn’t he see anyone?’
‘No, he didn’t. At least he never mentioned that. Anyway Anthony got back to the house around six-thirty. He phoned me, told me about the land rover breaking down. Then he said he would change for dinner, see me later. I went up to the house around seven. We had drinks and ate, but Anthony was very nervous, not himself. You see, he thought Min would show up and start behaving offensively again.’
‘But she didn’t, did she?’
‘No, we were alone all evening. As I said, Anthony was out of sorts and he walked me back to the Dower House around nine-thirty, perhaps nine forty-five, then he returned to Clonloughlin.’
‘And who found Min’s body?’
‘The estate manager. He was driving past the lake very early this morning and saw the land rover, also the mini. Then he found –’ Edwina broke down, sobbing as if her heart would break.
Paula tried to soothe her aunt, reassure her, and said, ‘Please, Aunt Edwina, be brave. I’m sure everything is going to be all right.’ She prayed she was right.
‘But I’m frightened for him,’ Edwina mumbled in a tearfilled tone, ‘truly frightened –’
‘Now listen to me and please do as I tell you,’ Paula instructed peremptorily, taking charge. ‘Don’t make any more phone calls, and if you receive any, hang up as quickly as possible. I want you to keep this line open. I shall ring you back very shortly. I presume you’re calling from the Dower House?’
‘Yes.’ Edwina hesitated, asked, ‘But what are you going to do?’
‘I think I’d better get my mother over there to stay with you for the next few days. You shouldn’t be alone at a time like this. I assume there’s going to be an inquest. The main thing is I don’t want you to worry. Fretting won’t help anyone. I know it won’t be easy, but you must try. I’ll ring you back within the hour.’
‘Th-th-th-thank you, P-P-Paula,’ Edwina stammered.
They said goodbye and hung up. Paula immediately lifted the phone and dialled her parents’ flat in London. The line was busy. She flung the receiver back into the cradle with impatience and leaped up, realizing she had better go and talk to Emily.
As Paula raced through the drawing room she almost fell over an occasional table in her haste. Righting it, she stumbled out on to the terrace, blinking as she came out in the bright sunlight.
Having heard the crash Emily swung her head and grinned. ‘You are a clumsy clot –’ She stopped, her eyes opening widely. ‘What’s happened?’ Emily asked. ‘You’re as white as a sheet.’
Paula leaned against a chair. ‘We have some trouble, really serious trouble, Emily. I’m going to have to deal with it – and you’ll have to help me. Please come inside. I must reach my mother. It’ll save time if you listen whilst I explain everything to her.’
CHAPTER 23
‘You don’t think he could have done it, do you?’ Paula lifted her head sharply. ‘Of course not!’ She stared at Emily, who sat opposite her on the sofa in the conservatory. Her stare intensified and she frowned, ‘Why, do you?’
Without hesitation, Emily exclaimed, ‘No. I don’t think he would be capable of it.’ There was a pause, and Emily bit her lip. She said in a rush, ‘On the other hand, you said something –’
‘I did? What do you mean? When?’
‘Oh not today, Paula, months ago, when you and Alexander took me to lunch just after Gra
n left. You know the day we discussed Jonathan. We also spoke about Sarah. You made an interesting remark and it’s stuck in my mind ever since. You said we never really know about other people, not even those who are closest to us, and that we know very little about what goes on in people’s private lives. I was struck by the essential truth in your words at the time, and let’s face it, we don’t know Anthony all that well. We’ve never spent a lot of time with him.’
‘You’re right. But I’ve got to go with my gut instinct on this, Emily, I just know he didn’t have anything to do with Min’s death. Admittedly the circumstances sound peculiar, but no…’ Paula shook her head vehemently, ‘I don’t believe he killed her. I’m convinced it was an accident. Or suicide. Look here, Emily, Grandy is the shrewdest person we know, and she is brilliant at reading people, spotting character flaws. She thinks the world of Anthony and –’
‘Even the nicest people can commit murder,’ Emily interrupted quietly. ‘If they’re under pressure, pushed hard enough. What about crimes of passion, for instance?’
‘We must presume Anthony’s innocence! That is British law, after all – innocent until proven guilty.’
‘Please don’t think I was implying that he did kill her, because I wasn’t. I was just speculating that’s all. To be honest, I’m inclined to go along with you on the suicide theory. Still, I hope she didn’t kill herself. Think how hard that would be on Sally and Anthony – having to live with the knowledge that Min took her own life because of them.’
‘Yes, that had crossed my mind earlier. It would affect them in the worst way,’ Paula said, her eyes darkening with worry. She glanced at her watch. ‘I wish my mother would call back. I hope she’s not having a problem getting a plane to Ireland.’
Emily also checked her watch. ‘She’s only had fifteen minutes, Paula. Give her a chance. In the meantime, let’s go over your list again, check your plan.’
‘Right,’ Paula replied, aware positive action would help to subdue her nagging anxiety. Lifting the pad, she scanned it, said, ‘One. We get Mummy over to Ireland as soon as possible, so that she can hold the fort. She’s already working on that so –’ Paula picked up her pen, ticked it off, ‘– Two. My father has to put a call through to Philip at Coonamble between nine and ten tonight, to alert Philip. God forbid Grandy reads about this trouble in the papers first. Daddy understands he must do this once Mother is on the plane.’ Again this item was checked off, and she went on reading aloud: ‘Three. Put a lid on this mess as far as the newspapers are concerned. I’ll call Sam Fellowes at the Yorkshire Morning Gazette and Pete Smythe on our evening paper. Actually, I’ll have to call all of the papers in our chain. I can’t control the national press but I can certainly make sure those we own don’t carry a single line. Four. Talk to Henry Rossiter about legal advice. We might have to send John Crawford. As the family lawyer he would represent Anthony if necessary. Five. Get hold of Winston, Jim, or both, to let them know what’s happened.’ She lifted her eyes. ‘Maybe you can make that phone call, Emily, but not until we have everything under control. I don’t want either of them flying back here. Six. Ring Edwina to reassure her and talk to Anthony, tell him what we’ve done. Seven. Locate Sally Harte. You can do that as well.’
‘Okay.’ Emily peered through the door of the conservatory and out into the hall. The telephone was in her direct line of vision. ‘I think you should work at your desk here, and I’ll use the phone in the hall. That way we can see each other, talk easily between calls.’
‘Good idea. Look, I had better speak to Fellowes and get that out of the way.’
‘Yes, and I’ll start trying to find Sally. Did she tell you on Thursday where exactly she was going in the Lake District?’
‘No, and I didn’t think to ask, but Uncle Randolph will know. Don’t mention a thing about this – not yet,’ Paula warned.
‘Not on your life. He’d go into a flat spin.’ Emily jumped up. ‘If the other line rings while you’re talking to Fellowes I’ll pick it up. It’ll probably be your mother.’
As Emily ran out, Paula lifted the receiver and dialled the editor’s private line at the Yorkshire Morning Gazette. He answered on the second ring, and Paula quickly cut through the usual pleasantries. ‘Sam, I’m calling about a family matter. My cousin, the Earl of Dunvale, has had a terrible tragedy. His wife has been drowned in the lake on his estate in Ireland.’
‘That is indeed tragic,’ Fellowes said. ‘I’ll get one of my top writers on to the obituary immediately.’
‘No, no, Sam. The reason I’m calling is to let you know I don’t want anything in the paper. I’m pretty sure the wire services will be carrying something later tonight, or tomorrow. In any event, I want the story killed. No obituary either.’
‘But why not?’ he demanded. ‘If the story’s on the wires, the national press will be running it. We’ll look ridiculous if we don’t mention –’
‘Sam,’ Paula cut in quietly, ‘you should know by now that Emma Harte does not wish to read anything – anything at all – about her family in her newspapers.’
‘I know that,’ he snapped. ‘But surely this is different. How’s it going to look if every paper in the country but ours has it? What kind of newspaper are we anyway? I definitely do not like suppressing news.’
‘Then perhaps you’re working on the wrong newspaper, Sam. Because believe you me, Emma Harte makes the rules around here, and you’d better respect them.’
‘I’m going to call Jim and Winston in Canada. They run the papers, and it seems to me that it’s their decision – about what we print and what we don’t print.’
‘In their absence, and in the absence of my grandmother, it is my decision and mine alone. I have told you what to do. No story. No obituary.’
‘If you say so,’ he said, his anger ill-concealed.
‘I do say so. Thank you, Sam, and goodbye.’
Paula hung up, bristling. She pulled her address book towards her, looking up Pete Smythe’s home number, since the evening paper was closed on Sundays. She hoped she would not get the same arguments from Smythe. She was about to dial when Emily flew down the steps, and she swung around in the chair. ‘Was that my mother?’
‘Yes, or rather, Uncle David. Aer Lingus has a flight out early this evening, but he doesn’t think Auntie Daisy will make the airport in time. So he’s arranged for your mother to be flown over by private plane. Uncle David’s going to phone Edwina right now, to let her know Auntie Daisy’s virtually on her way. Your mother’s packing. She’ll call before she leaves the flat.’
‘That’s a relief. Did you speak to Uncle Randolph?’
‘No, he was out. But Vivienne told me Sally’s due back in Middleham shortly. It’s been raining in the Lake District, so she packed her painting gear and is driving home. I told Vivienne to have her call here the minute she arrives.’
‘Was she curious?’
‘Not really. I said you wanted to speak to Sally, and got off the phone quickly.’
‘I dread having to tell her about this –’ Paula murmured, her face grim, her eyes reflecting her deep concern.
‘Yes, it’s going to be awful for her, but she’ll have to be told. In person, I think, don’t you?’
‘Absolutely. Well, let’s not waste time. We’d better get on, Emily.’
‘What shall I do next?’
‘Could you bring the babies into the house, please? You can park the pram in here for a while. I must call those other editors.’
‘Yes, do it, and I’ll be back in a jiffy.’
Paula reached Pete Smythe, editor of the Yorkshire Evening Standard at his home in Knaresborough. She repeated the story she had told Sam Fellowes. After sympathizing with her about the accident, Pete concurred with her decision and gave her no arguments.
‘I wouldn’t have run anything anyway, Paula,’ Pete told her, ‘I know how Mrs Harte feels. She’d skin me alive if a single line appeared about any of you, regardless of the circumstances.’
>
‘Sam Fellowes was a bit difficult,’ Paula volunteered. ‘I hope I’m not going to meet any similar resistance from our other editors.’
‘You won’t – Sam’s a special case. Not the easiest person to deal with. If you want I’ll make the calls to our Doncaster, Sheffield, Bradford and Darlington papers.’
‘Oh would you, Pete? That’d be marvellous. I really appreciate your help. Thanks a lot.’ The phone shrilled the moment Paula had put it down. It was her mother.
‘Hello, darling,’ Daisy said with her usual calm control. ‘I’m about to leave. I’m taking a cab to the airport, so that your father can be here at the flat, just in case you need him. He spoke to Edwina a few minutes ago. She’s relieved I’m on my way. He said she sounded less agitated. The police have left. Anthony’s with her. They’re waiting for your call.’
‘I know. I’ll ring them when we hang up. Thanks for going over to Ireland, Mother. You’re the only one who can handle this. Edwina does trust you, and you’ll deal with everyone diplomatically, which is more than she could manage.’
‘Heavens, Paula, I don’t mind. We are a family and we must stick together. But what an appalling situation. I can’t understand the police over there…it seems very straight-forward to me. Your father agrees. Anyway talking about it endlessly won’t solve a thing. I must rush. Goodbye, dear.’
‘Bye, Mummy, and have a safe journey. We’ll speak tomorrow.’
Emily was pushing the pram down the two low steps into the conservatory when Paula glanced up from her pad. ‘I’m going to make a fast call to Henry, and then I’ll talk to Ireland.’ As she dialled Henry’s number Paula quickly gave Emily details about her conversations with Pete Smythe and her mother.
It was Henry Rossiter’s housekeeper who answered at his Gloucestershire house. Paula spoke to her briefly, replaced the receiver, said to Emily, ‘I just missed him. He’s driving back to London. Apparently he should be arriving around eight-thirty. Do you think I should call Gran’s solicitors or wait to speak to Henry?’
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