The Art of Murder (Harriet Quigley Mystery)

by Nicola Slade

  During the coffee-break Seren went up to her room.’I’m not going to be a wimp,’ she told Harriet who offered to accompany her. ‘You don’t need to hold my hand anymore but thanks all the same, Harriet.’

  At that moment Linzi elected to pick on their teacher. With a limpid smile, she paused on her way out to the hall, put a dainty finger to her lip and tilted her head. ‘You know, Donald,’ she cooed,’I think you’d look so much better if you got rid of all that facial hair, quite handsome in fact. I’ve never understood why men think beards and moustaches suit them, but,’ she added with that tinkling laugh,’I suppose they don’t have to look at themselves.’

  Donald flushed scarlet, turned on his heel and left the room, leaving the rest of the group shocked into silence. He stared out of his bedroom window without seeing the neat, raised vegetable beds, while he trembled with humiliation. Eventually he went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face until, quite suddenly, he found himself laughing out loud.

  ‘Well,’ he said with a wry twist to his mouth, ‘that’s certainly shattered her image as dear, sweet Linzi. They’ve all seen what a cow she is and they won’t forget.’

  He straightened his shoulders and took a long hard look at his reflection in the mirror. ‘You know what? Vile she may be, but I have to admit I would look a hell of a lot better without the whiskers.’ He picked up his razor and did the deed, managing a half-smile when he surveyed his shaven face. ‘Yup, that should wrong-foot the bitch completely. I’ll show her …’

  He felt proud of his reaction. No more reaching for comfort in booze, no more hiding in the background. Whether Linzi carried out her threat of exposure or not, Donald felt braver today than he had for years. He set his round hat at a jaunty angle, straightened today’s T-shirt which featured a big treble clef, and went downstairs to face them all.

  When he re-entered the garden room the group’s silent sympathy was palpable. He stroked his chin and said, with a creditable laugh: ‘I hope this is an improvement, folks?’ They all cheered, which touched him, and Madeleine, who had been out of the room and heard nothing, paused to pat his arm, saying: ‘Goodness, Donald, how nice you look. Very distinguished, like a younger Timothy West.’

  Sam, who had been out to the car, slipped in a minute or so later and under her breath Harriet described the scene. ‘I’m so impressed,’ she said. ‘His self-esteem is practically non-existent but he took it well and showed Linzi up as a bitch. She was breathtakingly rude. I think she’s beginning to crack under the strain. She’s taking no pains to maintain her usual sweetness and light.’

  *

  ‘Well,’ said Donald as he called time at noon, ‘I can only say that I’ve rarely had such a well-behaved class. Mind you,’ he added with a grin, ‘I have to admit that my most recent teaching post was at an open prison …’

  He made them spread their masterpieces out on the wide window sill at the end of the room so everyone could see and admire. Harriet felt quite pleased with her abbey but sighed with wistful appreciation when she saw Seren’s galloping horse, created – as they all were – with charcoal, paste and newsprint.

  Linzi was out of sorts and for once made no attempt to charm, the sweetness turned sour. ‘I didn’t enjoy this,’ she announced. She glared at Donald who, buoyed up by the others’ appreciative comments, merely shrugged in response. ‘I work in miniature and, I might remind you, am the only member of the group who consistently sells her work. This is just messing about and I’m very disappointed.’

  ‘Well,’ Sam weighed in. ‘I’ve had a whale of a time, which I certainly didn’t expect. Donald, you’ve really opened my eyes.’

  ‘Thanks, Sam, that’s the whole idea,’ Donald nodded, looking gratified, then grinned quite spontaneously. ‘I must say in return that you’re unique. You clearly excelled at engineering drawing in your time. I’ve never had a student who worked in so much meticulous detail.’

  Sam hovered proudly over his picture of the City of Truro. He had found a coloured page from a magazine and painstakingly cut out green for the boiler, found an advertisement that provided a set of wheels which he’d customised with the charcoal, and made the buffers out of a couple of silver dinner plates from an interior design feature.

  Harriet was conscious of a warm glow of affection. Sam was like a broody hen with a duckling and she was glad to see him puff out his chest in response to Donald’s nugget of praise.

  ‘This afternoon we’ll be using paint,’ Donald looked up from his tidying. ‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy that too, Sam – throwing colour at the page.’ He grinned at Sam’s startled expression and added: ‘Don’t take that literally. You’re no Jackson Pollock so there’ll be no drip-painting.’

  The morning’s work had been enjoyable and interesting and Harriet had stuck at it, determined to push herself, though some of the others seemed less inspired. Bonnie had slipped upstairs a couple of times, once to the loo, she’d told Harriet, and another time to fetch a packet of tissues.

  As Harriet waited for Sam to pack away his masterpiece, she went on counting heads and tried to remember everyone’s movements earlier, during the break. Tim had disappeared briefly during the break, presumably to the lavatory as had – variously – Jess, Nina and Fiona impelled, no doubt, by the same reason. Diverted for a moment she realised that there had been no further confrontation between Jess and Linzi, at least not when Harriet had been around. Jess appeared to be holding herself aloof though her eyes flickered constantly towards the other woman who seemed not in the least bothered by the brooding dislike.

  Come to think of it, Harriet reflected as she got herself back on track, she and Sam were the only people who had opted not to go for a pee break, though he’d been for a walk round the garden and to the car. Boarding school, she hid a sudden smile – it certainly gave you an excellent training in bladder control. Go before class had been the mantra, no unnecessary trips upstairs to the dormitories. Still amused at the memory she was startled when she noticed Linzi limp painfully out of the room. Her delicate brows were drawn together in a frown, marring the lovely face which was somehow a little less perfect today under a little too much make-up. She’s really worried, thought Harriet. Was she aware she had gone too far? There’d been a definite sense of people drawing back at how she’d spoken to Donald. It seemed to Harriet that there was a quiver about those rosebud lips and that Linzi’s eyes flickered ever more anxiously. She felt an unwilling pang of sympathy; Linzi looked in agony, physical and mental, she ought to see a doctor. Why on earth hadn’t the stupid woman contacted the police earlier? It might all have been sorted out by now.

  Even though the others knew nothing of Linzi’s problems, the tension that surrounded her was affecting the atmosphere, and as Harriet registered the distant slamming of Linzi’s door, she sighed. Fiona came to help tidy up and Harriet quizzed her.

  ‘Why on earth did she organise the weekend if she’s not well?’

  ‘She’s a control freak,’ Fiona shrugged. ‘She likes everyone to admire her. Anyway this … stalking thing,’ Fiona lowered her voice. ‘It only kicked off in the last ten days or so, I think, and the weekend was already set up by then.’

  At that moment a blood-curdling scream rang out, echoing from inside the main house.

  ‘Christ almighty!’ Harriet dropped the charcoal sticks she was gathering up, and ran. The scream had come from a bedroom and she knew the voice.

  *

  ‘What is it? What’s happened?’ Harriet charged into Linzi’s room close on Fiona’s heels, to find the occupant sitting on the edge of her bed, her face ashen grey as her screams gradually subsided into hiccupping gasps, a hand clutched to her mouth.

  Linzi started to gag and pointed a shaking finger at the bedcover. A small brown plastic bottle lay empty amidst a scatter of white pills, as though it had been tossed there in a panic. Which it probably had, Harriet conceded, judging by the harrowed expression on Linzi’s face.

  ‘What is it?’ Fio
na put a comforting arm round the shaken woman and jerked back as Linzi turned to shout at her.

  ‘Are you blind?’ Her mouth was working and her eyes staring as she tried to compose herself. ‘There, on the bed, in the middle of the pills. You must be able to see it.’ She made a gargling sound and gasped out: ‘I can’t … oh God!’

  ‘What on earth? Oh, yuk!’ Fiona echoed her as she peered more closely at the spot Linzi had indicated. ‘Look, Harriet.’

  Harriet looked – and recoiled. ‘Ugh, wings and part – is that a wasp? It looks enormous, is it a hornet? How horrible, did it sting you, Linzi?’

  ‘You stupid cows!’ Linzi was beside herself, her face bright red, eyes glittering. ‘Go and look in the bathroom. Do it now!’

  Obediently Fiona and Harriet rose, exchanging concerned glances and headed into the en suite bathroom, though Harriet crossed to the bedroom door and looked out. On the half-landing several of the art group hung around uncertainly.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she said with a reassuring nod, hoping she sounded convincing.’ ‘Linzi dropped off to sleep for a few minutes and woke with a horrible nightmare. Nothing to see and Fiona is looking after her.’

  She locked the door firmly in their faces, just in time to cover the sound of Fiona’s yelp of surprise. Harriet ran back to the bathroom. ‘What is it now?’

  The basin was half-full of dead wasps.

  ‘That garden room is stuffy so I wanted my nasal spray for my catarrh,’ Linzi’s voice was dull and exhausted. ‘I forgot to take it to the class but when I reached for the bag I saw those vile things in the basin. I just dropped my sponge-bag on the floor and ran into the bedroom to get away from them. I hate wasps, anything that buzzes and flutters at me, and I felt panicky so …’ She was hanging on to the towel rail now and Harriet thought she might collapse at any moment.

  ‘Here, come and sit down, Linzi,’ she nodded to Fiona and the two of them supported the stricken woman to an armchair in the bedroom. ‘Take your time.’

  ‘I grabbed at my pill bottle. I told you, Fiona, it’s just a homeopathic remedy for my nerves and I really needed something after the shock.’ Linzi leaned back and breathed deeply. ‘The bottle’s usually in the back pocket of my jeans but I forgot and left it on the bedside table. I tipped a couple of pills into my hand and gulped them down without looking and then I saw that thing!’

  She saw the dawning shock on their faces and nodded, tremulously. ‘I spat out the pills at once. I felt sick but that’s not the worst of it. Don’t you see? It’s only half a wasp or hornet or whatever. I’m terrified I might have swallowed the other half.’

  ‘Oh, vile!’ Harriet shuddered in sympathy then pulled herself together. ‘Hang on a minute, though. Let’s think about it calmly. Linzi, do you remember swallowing anything at all? I mean …’ she held up a hand as Linzi opened her mouth to interrupt. ‘I mean, you spat out the pills but had you already swallowed something? Do you remember feeling something bigger than a pill as you swallowed? You clearly didn’t bite it in two or you’d have noticed the … the crunch.’

  A wild impulse to rock with laughter nearly overcame her but she forced herself to stay calm. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I’m sure you’d have been aware of something …’ she faltered. ‘You obviously gagged when you clocked the … the part of a wasp, and spat the pills out, but surely you’d have gagged even worse, I should think, as it went down, something … something alien like that.’

  ‘For goodness sake, Harriet,’ Fiona half sobbed, ‘stop being such a ghoul. Look,’ she reached across the bed and swept the scatter of pills into her hand, ‘I’m going to empty the bottle down the loo, Linzi.’

  She flushed them away and Harriet had a momentary qualm. Should Fiona have done that? And if not, why not? Why might it matter? There was a fleeting thought at the back of her mind but before she could examine it Fiona was at the door again, repelling the persistent gaggle of concerned or curious visitors.

  ‘Should she make herself sick, just in case?’ Fiona came back and gave Linzi an anxious pat on her shuddering shoulder. ‘She could swallow some shampoo in a glass of water or something that would act as an emetic.’

  ‘No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.’ Harriet was doubtful. ‘I don’t believe she did swallow anything. If she did swallow the … the wasp – and I’m pretty sure it’s a massive wasp; a hornet is furry but this thing is smooth and black and yellow – you have to see that it’s the head that was left in the bottle.’ Her voice wobbled as she fought again to overcome the family curse of finding the wrong things funny at entirely the wrong moment. ‘It means that if she swallowed anything, it would be the end with the sting so, just in case, I don’t think it’s a good idea to try and bring it up. She might get stung en route, as it were.’

  Linzi sat quietly for a few minutes as she got her breathing under control then she nodded. ‘I think you’re right, Harriet. I didn’t – there wasn’t anything apart from the awful feeling of horror and I gagged on the pills. I don’t think I can have swallowed anything before that … Oh God!’ She pressed a tissue to her mouth as she heaved again. ‘I just saw that thing when I stopped choking and looked down, and I started to scream.’

  ‘You’ve got to go to the police again, Linzi,’ Fiona urged, not noticing Harriet’s sudden thoughtful silence. ‘This is horrible. We know the wasps are bad this year – I found a couple of wasps myself this morning – but there are far too many in your basin for it to be accidental. Even worse is finding half a wasp, that’s absolutely disgusting, even though you didn’t actually swallow it.’ She gulped and glanced across at Harriet, her face suddenly very pale. ‘Do you suppose this means your stalker has got into the house, Linzi?’ she said in a frightened whisper, ‘because if so, it must be someone in the art group – one of us.’

  Harriet was frowning as she opened her mouth to speak, but Linzi forestalled her.

  ‘No it’s not,’ she said, still in that flat, defeated voice. ‘I don’t think it’s one of us at all. I’ve been thinking about it and I think it’s my ex-husband.’

  ‘What?’ Fiona remonstrated with the other woman. ‘I thought he was in Thailand? Why in the world would he do such a beastly thing anyway?’

  ‘Not him,’ she said sounding exhausted, ‘Martin, my second husband. It can’t be anyone else. He must be the one who did this.’

  ‘But why?’ Harriet was out of her depth. ‘What does he look like? I thought you said you couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman?’ Too late she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to know anything about Linzi’s stalker but it had passed unnoticed.

  ‘I couldn’t,’ she hunched her shoulders tightly. ‘I couldn’t see anything properly, he had his hoodie on, but I’m convinced it was Martin. It’s the kind of thing he would do.’ She blew her nose. ‘I think the hoodie isn’t just to disguise his face. Martin’s almost completely bald.’

  The other two women stared at her, wide-eyed, and Harriet opened her mouth to say something but stopped herself. Linzi continued. ‘Martin was jailed eight years ago for insider dealing so I divorced him after he was arrested and I thought that was that. He served half his sentence then he was let out on licence and went to live in Spain. I didn’t hear anything more until he was sent to jail again three years ago, fraud this time, but I had a letter from him a month or so ago saying he was due out in the autumn. He knows Brian, my last husband, had money so Martin thinks I’m rolling in it. He’d put our house in my name, as a tax dodge and I had a lot of good jewellery too, so he says he wants his share.’ She shivered and hugged herself, rocking slightly. ‘He said he’s made some interesting friends inside and he’s sure I’d love to meet some of them soon.’

  ‘Good grief!’ Harriet’s jaw practically dropped. ‘That certainly sounds like a threat but can you be sure it’s him? When did he get out, is there any way you can find out?’

  ‘I suppose I could ring his solicitor.’ Linzi was still looking shaken. ‘I don’t want a
ny contact with him. I don’t see how he could have my mobile number or know that I’d be here this weekend.’ She straightened up. ‘And before you say anything, I’m not telling the police about this. Martin’s not violent, he’s just angry.’

  ‘You can’t leave it like that,’ Fiona said, and Harriet nodded in vigorous agreement. ‘It’s not up to you now, Linzi. If he broke into this house, it’s Eve’s decision, not yours. The police have to be told.’

  Linzi looked mulish. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said, and added: ‘but if either of you dares to ring them I’ll deny it all.’ She scowled, then: ‘Did you get rid of those wasps in the basin? Good, then I’m going to have a shower and change. I’ll feel better after that.’

  Without another word she went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, leaving Fiona and Harriet staring at each other, nonplussed; until another scream rang out.

  ‘Oh, for—’ Harriet started forward but the door was flung open and Linzi was hanging on to it, wild-eyed.

  ‘He’s left a parting message,’ she whispered and beckoned them into the bathroom. ‘You can’t see it unless you look right in the shower so I didn’t see it before, I just ran blindly out into the bedroom.’ On the tiled wall of the shower, behind the frosted glass screen, was a scrawl in red marker pen: COMING SOON.

  Chapter 6

  Saturday lunchtime

  ‘I’ve had this place up to here, Harriet.’ Sam took her by the arm.’Let’s take some food somewhere less eventful. I’ll be very rude to someone if I have to hang around during lunch.’

  ‘You’ll get no argument from me.’ Harriet managed a faint smile. ‘It’s a big house but I’m feeling increasingly claustrophobic.’ She had taken him aside to relay the latest developments in the uneasy drama that was unfolding as a background to the weekend. Like him she felt no inclination to share the picnic lunch Eve Paget had set out on the dining room table, inviting them to take the wraps and baguettes into the sunny garden. ‘Fiona has it all in hand and Linzi’s quiet now so I’m not needed,’ she added.