Killing with Kindness

by Anne Morice

  “I wonder they can be so sure. They can’t have had many samples to compare it with.”

  “That’s where you’re so wrong. It’s true there wasn’t all that much to go on, but he used to write occasional notes and postcards to his sister from the home he was in before the operation. They were mainly to ask her to bring something special next time she went to visit him, quite trivial things like that, but apparently she’d kept a few of them.”

  “I wonder why?”

  “Well, not everyone is methodical about destroying old letters. But I can tell how your mind is working and I must break it to you that the comparison didn’t rest solely on the samples which Chloe was able to produce. The invalid home came up with some specimens too. One of their therapy exercises was to get the patients to write little essays about their favourite television programmes and so forth. They found an exercise book with quite a collection of them written by Masters.”

  “I see. So you think we should put that whole episode down to coincidence? I mean, the manner of his death and the timing of it, plus the very special relationship between him and Mike?”

  “No, that would be a bit too much to swallow, wouldn’t it? I think there probably was a link, in so far as Parsons’ fading out of the boy’s life at such a tricky time was all he needed to screw himself up to commit suicide. And the ironic thing is, you know, Tessa, that he could have been unaware that Parsons was even officially missing. When he ceased to come around any more Chloe might well have worked on her brother to accept the fact gradually, before she broke the news to him. Don’t you think that’s possible?”

  “Maybe,” I admitted. “But I don’t know why, something you said perhaps, tells me the answer is not quite as simple as that. I can’t put my finger on it, but I feel it in my bones.”

  “Oh, why not give your poor old bones a rest for once? Let’s forget about murders and suicides for a bit and go out on the town. Where would you like to have dinner?”

  I agreed that he had the right idea. It was high time to get out of the rut, and furthermore there is no surer way of finding the answer to a puzzle than by ceasing to think about it, which is exactly what happened in this case.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Alec arrived the next day on the stroke of four-thirty. I was ready and waiting for him, with a tea tray on one end of the dining room table and a pile of income tax documents on the other, but once the preparatory stages were over, nothing went according to plain.

  This was only partly due to the fact that his bearing did not suggest that of a man with a slipped disc. He looked a little strained and careworn, but his back was straight and his movements relatively fluid. However, when I congratulated him on this he reacted very irritably and brushed my remarks aside as though they had been made expressly to taunt him. I concluded from this that the pretence of illness was so thin that even casual acquaintances were not expected to be deceived by it, and I therefore invited him to sit down and take a preliminary look through my papers while I made a pot of tea.

  I had not worked out a formula for introducing the topic of Mike’s death, believing that it was bound to arise naturally in the course of things and that it was preferable that he should be the one to bring it up. The assumption had been that when I returned with the tea he would ask me one or two more or less pertinent questions about my financial affairs, would pick out a selection of documents to take home for further study and that after making some assessment of the amount of work required of him we should glide politely through the matter of his fee and settle down to a cosy chat over the teacups.

  However, on my return, after a somewhat longer interval than I had anticipated owing to Mrs Cheeseman’s having hit on an entirely new hiding place for the sugar, I found him staring moodily into space and paying not the smallest attention to the task I had set him.

  After an uncomfortable silence he said harshly,

  “And now perhaps you would be good enough to tell me what this is all about?”

  “But I have told you, Alec. My tax situation has got into a proper mess and I was hoping you could help me to sort it out.”

  “There’s no mess that I can see.”

  “That’s because you haven’t given yourself enough time. You can’t have been through that lot already?”

  “No, maybe not, but I can see from the correspondence that you already have a firm of accountants handling your affairs, and very reputable people they are too.”

  “A bit too reputable, in my opinion. They’re so stuffy that I sometimes wonder whose side they’re on.”

  “Well, in my opinion, you’ll not improve your position by taking your business elsewhere.”

  “That wasn’t exactly my intention. All I really want is to jerk them up a bit. You see, the situation has changed now that Robin and I are taxed separately. I have to put in all my own expense claims and so on and I don’t think they’re making them nearly stiff enough. They take the attitude that actors have such a lovely time prancing about and doing their own thing that they’re lucky to get paid at all, and the trouble is that I don’t know enough about the law to point out where they’ve slipped up. That’s how I thought you might be able to help. After all, you know the form about our profession, if anyone does.”

  “Then I must inform you that you were very gravely mistaken. If you’re looking for someone to conspire with you in tax evasion you’ve come to the wrong party.”

  “Oh goodness, Alec, don’t say such terrible things. There’s no question of tax evasion, I just feel that I am being asked to pay more than I legally need to. I could be wrong, of course, but in that case I’d at least like the satisfaction of having it properly explained to me by someone who knows the score. That’s really all.”

  “If you want my advice, there’s no but one way to get it. It’ll mean your sitting down now to write to your accountants informing them that you no longer require their services. And you follow it up with a letter to the Inspector of Taxes, notifying him that I am empowered to act on your behalf. Is that what you want?”

  “No, I hadn’t envisaged anything quite so drastic as that. It’s not the kind of step I could take without consulting Robin,” I said, falling back on a well worn path of retreat. “All I really wanted from you was a few tips, more or less as between friends.”

  “And you consider me your friend?”

  “Shouldn’t I?”

  “If that’s friendship, give me enemies. I was prepared to let you have the benefit of the doubt, but now I’m here I’m bound to say I consider this to be nothing but a lot of trumped up nonsense.”

  “Okay, Alec, so I made a stupid gaffe and I’m sorry, but there’s no need to go on like that.”

  “No one likes to be taken for a fool.”

  “But I don’t do anything of the kind. Would I have asked for your help, if I had? It’s I who am the fool for misunderstanding the situation, but that was sheer ignorance, not malice. Now that you’ve made your position clear, can’t we just drop the subject and talk about something else?”

  “No, I’ll be on my way now, if you’ve no objection.”

  “Oh, but I have every objection. You must at least have a cup of tea before you go, to show there’s no ill feeling.”

  He had jerked himself upright, but now subsided again, accepting the cup which I held out to him and saying softly:

  “You may rest assured that my staying will not be for that reason.”

  “Oh God, don’t tell me you’re still furious? I told you it was a mistake and that I apologise.”

  “Not furious, no; curious would be the better word. I’m wondering what your game is. I said I didn’t care to be taken for a fool and I don’t take you for one either. I’d awfully like to know what all this was in aid of. Did your husband put you up to it?”

  “Good heavens, no, I haven’t even discussed it with him. I expect I would have mentioned it, if you had agreed to help me, but there’ll be no point in doing so now, will there?”
<
br />   “I’m not referring to your income tax. Let’s forget about that despicable little pretence now, shall we?”

  “Oh, by all means, if you’re determined to be offensive; but in that case what were you referring to?”

  “Your motive in tricking me into coming here. You told me your husband was a policeman, I believe. Did he by any chance instruct you to set a trap for me, so that I might inadvertently betray something?”

  I was so thoroughly taken aback by this accusation, and yet at the same time so eager to find out whether an imaginary trap could have the same result as a genuine one that I did not dare meet his eye for fear of betraying something on my own side and hastily covered up by pouring out a second cup of tea, while saying:

  “I’m sorry, Alec, but I’ve completely lost the thread. What can you be talking about?”

  “That hasn’t answered my question.”

  “Oh, very well, will this do? I swear on my oath that I have not mentioned one word about you to Robin. He hardly knows of your existence and he has no idea that you are here. That’s a promise and I just hope it makes you feel better.”

  No assurances to this effect were forthcoming, however, and when I looked up, I saw that his expression was both hostile and wary. Still in the same quiet and threatening tone, he said:

  “And from the wee insight you were considerate enough to give me into your financial standing, it’s plain that you’re not short of money, so presumably we can discount blackmail. What does that leave, I wonder?”

  This time I was so utterly dumbfounded that I literally could not think of any reply and before I could pull myself together the silence was shattered by the slam of the front door.

  It caused my heart to give the most sickening leap and it did not regain its normal position among the rest of the organs after I had risked a glance at Alec. There was really no reason why Robin should not return to his own house at any time he chose, with or without warning me in advance, but in fact he very rarely did so at five o’clock in the afternoon and, no question about it, this was a most unfortunate day to have made the exception. Alec was half out of his chair again, moving with a speed which indicated definitively that all discs were in place, and his complexion had turned the colour of concrete. The anger and dislike were no longer visible in his expression. Doubtless they were still there in full measure, but the emotion which topped all else was fear.

  “Well,” I squeaked. “Well, what do you know? What an extraordinary . . .”

  At which point the door opened and in marched Toby.

  His eyes bulged slightly as he took in the tableau, and practically started out of his head as Alec sank back into his chair and buried his face in his hands, while I reeled backwards in a fair imitation of Lady Macbeth catching sight of the dagger.

  Unaccustomed to his entrances creating such a sensational effect, Toby said coldly:

  “I am sorry if I startled you, but I thought it would save trouble if I used my key. Not so, apparently. Would you prefer me to go out and come in again, or go out and stay out?”

  “Neither,” I fluttered. “It’s perfectly all right, nothing wrong at all. You gave us rather a fright, you see. We thought you were Robin. My husband, you know.”

  “Yes, indeed, I had heard.”

  “And I’d just been saying that I wasn’t expecting him for hours.”

  “Oh well, that explains everything, I suppose.”

  Whether it did or not was a matter of stark indifference to me, but I was relieved to see that it had had a reviving effect on the one for whom it was designed. Alec slowly lifted his head and stared at me briefly, before turning to look at Toby, as I went burbling on:

  “I don’t believe you’ve met Alec Ferguson, have you? This is my cousin, Toby Crichton, Alec. He writes plays, in case you’re interested.”

  “I hardly see why he should be,” Toby remarked.

  “You never know. Some people take a great interest in how other people earn their living.”

  “Oh that, yes; but I don’t see what it has to do with writing plays.”

  “Never mind, the tide may turn in your favour one day, and in the meantime it’s a profession, isn’t it? Just as much as being an actor or a policeman, and that’s what counts.”

  “Oh, is it?” he asked, still looking extremely puzzled, not apparently having caught on to the fact that the purpose of all this badinage was to get it through to Alec that he had not been tricked, and thus enable him to get a grip on himself. That it was partially successful was seen a moment later when he stood up, looking shaky still and a bit hunted, but able to conduct himself with reasonable composure.

  “Well, I think that about finishes our business,” he told me, making a brave attempt to sound casual. “There’ll be no necessity for me to call again. Good day to you both.”

  “I’ll see you out,” I said, following him into the hall, but Toby had left the chain off and Alec wrenched the front door open and having passed through it hurtled down the steps to the pavement without a backward glance.

  When he was out of sight I closed the door again and returned to the dining room with a slow and thoughtful gait.

  “Who was that? Some criminal on the run, I take it?” Toby enquired, having evidently done some thinking on his own behalf.

  “Yes,” I replied, “I imagine so.”

  “Not very attractive manners. I wonder you bother to harbour him?”

  “I wasn’t harbouring him exactly.”

  “Nevertheless, you were at great pains to convince him that I was not a member of the constabulary.”

  “Yes, I know. I should have remembered that he has a positive phobia about them, and I do wish I knew why. But I acted in self-interest, really. I didn’t fancy the idea of his losing his head and trying to shoot his way out.”

  “No, we shouldn’t have liked that at all. Has he really sunk so low? Perhaps it’s just as well I arrived in the nick of time?”

  “I can’t agree; and what are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I was hungry. I thought we might go to some smart restaurant this evening, if Robin’s free. Why can’t you agree?”

  “Because if you hadn’t stepped in when you did I might have uncovered something. I feel I was on the brink of breaking through his defences.”

  “I am not sure that’s the sort of brink to do you much good. Why not just hand him over to Robin?”

  “Perhaps I will in the end, but there’s a little matter I want to settle first, as soon as possible in fact. Are you staying the night?”

  “Yes, if you’ve no objection.”

  “Then don’t let me keep you. You must be eager to unpack and put on a clean shirt. I think you will find everything in order in the spare room.”

  As soon as he had gone I sprang to the telephone and dialled the number of my old friend, Gerald Pettigrew. Not only is he my old friend, but he is also a very shrewd and sought after lawyer.

  “Have you time to listen to a short story, Gerald? It won’t take more than five minutes.”

  “So long as it hasn’t an X certificate, carry on, old top.”

  When I had outlined the facts, I asked: “So if I had called his bluff and appointed him my official accountant, would he have been entitled to act for me?”

  “How would I know, old lady?”

  “Well, really, Gerald, I thought that’s what solicitors were for. I mean, it does have some bearing on the law, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, yes, yes, but you haven’t given me nearly enough gen. If the chap’s a qualified and registered chartered accountant, then the answer is yes. If not, not. That’s the long and short of it.”

  “Well, could you find out whether he’s in the long or the short category?”

  “Might do. What’s in it for me?”

  “Only my undying love and gratitude.”

  “Blimey! I don’t half have to work hard for them! Go ahead, then. Give me the full name, approximate age and any other details that spring to m
ind and I’ll get him looked up for you.”

  “You’re an angel, Gerald.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  There was no word from Brenda on Friday and since that day marked the start of one of Robin’s rare long weekends off duty, we went down to Sussex to spend it with an elderly and dotty relative, not returning to Beacon Square until late on Monday night.

  Soon after nine the next morning I tried to telephone her, but there was no reply, which made me a trifle uneasy and this, combined with the fact that I still had a parcel to collect from Streamline, dictated the next move. Delaying only to get the salt washed out of my hair and to lunch with my agent, who had no words of comfort for me and did not even offer to pay her share of the bill, I set forth once again in the direction of Hill Grove.

  It was after four by the time I arrived at the cleaners, and obviously a peak period in the new shopping centre. The pavements were thronged with young women pushing loaded prams, or dragging older children by the hand, and with middle-aged women hoisting along a dog, or a basket on wheels, in their wake.

  When I had negotiated my way through this chaotic scene up to the doors of Streamline I was disgusted to find at least four customers ahead of me. Most of them looked as though they had been there for hours and Miss Pasty Face was right on form, traipsing lethargically away to the back premises and remaining concealed there for long periods while she tracked down each individual garment, before returning to the counter to strip it of its tags, cellophane cover and wire coat hanger.

  When it finally came to my turn the red and blue striped dressing gown was the first article to be retrieved and after she had sauntered away again, I picked it up and slung it over my arm, hoping at least to save the two minutes required for parcelling it up. I then returned to my position by the window, cursing the whim which had brought me to this establishment rather than its rival across the road.

  The strange thing was that only a moment later I had cause to reverse this verdict, for had I then been standing in the premises of Messrs. Quickservice I should certainly not have seen a familiar figure emerge from a building a few doors down from it. She was holding a manila envelope which she thrust into her bag, as she turned and walked away towards the car park.