Diamonds of Death

by Vivian Conroy

  Alkmene wanted to say this might be a bit exaggerated, then thought of the way in which Helena had dumped the cup full of hot tea all over her. That had been a mean vengeful act, like that of a little girl getting even with a friend for some real or imagined injury.

  There was something curious to Helena’s nature, as if she was on the one hand mature and cunning, using her beauty and charm to her own advantage, and on the other hand she was immature and childish, lashing out at someone she did not like, not even caring for the consequences.

  Jake said, ‘I will have my breakfast in the kitchens, then bring the car around. Do bring jackets and shawls for the wind can be chilly.’

  Anne’s face was suddenly warm with anticipation. ‘I will bring a picnic too. Cook can prepare it. We will have such fun.’

  She ran away, with leaps and bounds like a foal in a meadow.

  Jake met Alkmene’s eye. ‘A typical schoolgirl: happy one moment, sad the next. The things she says about her mother and her sister-in-law…’ He shook his head.

  Alkmene tilted her head as she watched the girl race for the house. ‘She is not happy here, and I can understand why. Everybody seems determined to act like her mother never even existed. She feels ignored and forced into a future she doesn’t want.’

  ‘You think you can play friend to her?’

  Alkmene froze under Jake’s cynical tone. ‘I want to help her, genuinely. I am not playing anything.’

  Jake shuffled his shoe in the grass. ‘I am not saying you are. It’s just that… We are here on a case. We have to find out why George hired Mac to steal the diamonds. Was it a conscious set-up to lure him into a room where the dead body would be waiting for him to stumble upon?’

  ‘Helena caught him supposedly in the act. Does that mean she was in on it with George? When he rushed in yesterday, he did mention the missing stones to Helena.’

  Jake nodded. ‘Right. Our focus should be on George and Helena. Not Anne.’

  ‘Still, she is also the daughter of my mother’s half-sister. I am intrigued by whatever happened in India, and Anne can tell me more about it.’

  Jake sighed. ‘Don’t lose sight of the fact that Mac is in jail for a murder he did not commit. We are supposed to follow leads to prove another did it so he can be cleared and released. Your time here is limited. Until the funeral. Then we have to go again.’

  ‘I know. But Jake, the only thing I know for sure about my aunt’s death is that she died in front of an open safe. That is what my father once mentioned. Now doesn’t it strike you as extraordinary that both she and her husband should die in the same manner? In front of an open safe? Devoid of the precious stones that were allegedly kept in them?’

  Jake held her gaze. ‘I agree it is extraordinary but what can it mean?’

  Alkmene sighed. ‘I am not sure yet. But maybe somebody wanted to set Lord Winters’ murder up in the same way as my aunt’s death. In that case there must be a link between the two events. In finding out more about India and about how my aunt died, we could in fact be gathering vital clues to clear your friend.’

  Jake seemed to consider this. Then he exhaled slowly. ‘You could be right. I hope you are. We only have so much time here to complete our investigation. And Mac’s life is now entirely in our hands.’

  He turned away. ‘I’ll get my breakfast, then the car. See you in twenty minutes.’

  Chapter Eight

  Anne directed them down winding country lanes to a large house with a friendlier appearance than the Winters estate, and larger gardens all around it. Anne wanted to send them into the house to see the china and the vases she had mentioned, while she would go see some rare rose that only grew here. But Alkmene insisted that they have the picnic first and so the three of them walked into the gardens and chose a spot with lush grass under an old oak tree. Jake unfolded the blanket. Alkmene and Anne unwrapped the food and then they poured white wine and proposed a toast to this beautiful day.

  Alkmene had to remind herself she had arrived here to look into a death. It might indeed be inappropriate what they were doing now, but Anne, who was the most involved party of the three of them, didn’t seem to care at all. Her father’s death seemed a million miles away from her mind as she sampled wine and food, told stories about this house and laughed so much her face was flushed with pleasure and her eyes wide with excitement.

  Jake exchanged a glance with Alkmene every now and then, probably impatient that the conversation delivered nothing that could be helpful to his friend. But Alkmene knew it took time to build confidence and it was essential they got closer to this lonely girl.

  Part of her felt conscious of the betrayal in it, as they had come for a specific reason that they had not revealed to Anne, yet.

  But Alkmene was genuinely interested in the girl, intent on helping her if she did decide to pursue a job in the city, away from her home and her critical sister-in-law. She would explain everything to Anne later. Then the girl would surely understand that it had been impossible to reveal the real purpose of their visit up front. And she’d agree that finding out who had really killed her father was important enough for a little deception at the start.

  Anne had just put aside the remains of an apple when she sat up straight in shock and stared. Her eyes gained even more energetic fervour, and she jumped to her feet. ‘I will be back soon.’

  She ran off, down the path towards the figure of a man with a wheelbarrow.

  Jake hitched a brow at Alkmene. ‘I already knew you love to eat whenever you have a chance and I do admit this lunch was excellent, but really we need to do more than sample wine and egg salad. What on earth can this visit to this place bring us in terms of information?’

  Alkmene didn’t want to admit that it might not deliver anything, and was part of a bigger plan to win Anne’s confidence. She had a feeling Jake would not see that any good would come of her getting closer to the impressionable girl. So she said quickly, ‘Well, it was said that Lord Winters had a lot of guests over on the night he died and that they came partly from neighbouring estates. I thought some of those guests had come from here.’

  ‘Even if they did,’ Jake responded, ‘I don’t see how that will help us. If we take a tour of the house, it will be conducted by some servant and not by the master or lady of the whole place. We can’t ask any questions that might shed light on what happened at the Winters estate on the night of the murder.’

  Alkmene wanted to respond, but she forgot to do so while watching Anne catch up with the man with the wheelbarrow. She was grabbing his arm, talking to him. He shook his head and pushed the wheelbarrow on, intending to let her stand where she was. Anne followed him and touched him again, apparently pleading with him.

  ‘I wonder who that can be,’ Alkmene said to Jake.

  Jake turned his head and studied the pair. ‘Must be the gardener that got sacked at the Winters estate,’ he said with a flash of interest in his eyes. ‘I overheard the staff discussing his sudden departure. They all acted like it was really hush-hush. When they noticed I was standing in the doorway listening, they stopped talking as if somebody had slapped them and even engaged me in another topic at once, as if to erase anything I might have caught from my memory.’

  Alkmene’s curiosity was piqued. ‘Why was he sacked then? Was he suspected of having anything to do with the murder? The missing jewels? I bet you were not looking at that flower bed for nothing. You think something might have been buried there.’

  ‘Could be,’ Jake said. ‘But if the former gardener buried a load of valuable stones there, why leave without the loot?’

  ‘If he was sent packing, he might have had no choice. He might have been watched while he packed up. He simply had no opportunity to go digging in the garden for whatever he buried there. Which means, he will have to come back later to get it.’

  Alkmene’s heart beat fast. ‘We will have to keep a close eye on that bed to see who shows up at it.’ Then she frowned. ‘But what has Anne got to do
with it? It looks like she is about to shake him. If he was just a gardener there, they were not supposed to know each other personally at all. While this is almost like…’

  She rose to stand and brushed some errant crumbs off her skirt. ‘I’d better go over and say hello.’

  Jake seemed to want to grab her arm, but she stayed out of his reach and firmly made for the young couple. Their arguing voices could be heard from a yard away, although words could not be made out clearly.

  ‘Enough trouble already,’ Alkmene could catch, and ‘don’t want to see you again.’

  As she reached the spot, Anne was left standing, the man with the wheelbarrow marching away, his back straight, his shoulders tight with tension.

  Anne looked like she was about to burst into tears.

  Alkmene smiled at her. ‘I wanted to be introduced to your friend. I assume he is the reason you wanted to come here?’

  Anne looked at her. ‘I don’t understand what you mean,’ she said with a catch in her voice.

  Alkmene tilted her head. ‘Come on, it is obvious. You wanted to see him and only told me about china and vases to be able to get a ride out here. I do not mind, you know. I’ve had a good time already and I am sure there is something worthwhile to see inside. Something I can talk about tonight over dinner, to explain why we came here in the first place? I assume your family would not be keen on it if there isn’t a good reason?’

  Anne sighed. She threw her arms up in the air. ‘It doesn’t matter now, does it?’ She stamped her foot. ‘The stupid fool.’

  Alkmene said, ‘Did he work for your father?’

  Anne nodded. ‘He was engaged last spring to do substantial work on the garden. Not just digging and planting, but developing it, like a garden architect does. He is not from the village, not a “peasant” like Albert says. He is actually an architect who designs buildings, you know, but he doesn’t have any money to start out, so he has to work hard to earn his own living and build his career. You see, he has to get into a partnership with somebody who is established already, but he doesn’t have the right connections yet.’

  She pulled a face. ‘Albert said he only wants to use me to get those connections. That he is just faking an interest in me because of my position and my money. But I think he is smart enough to see me for what I am. I am but a girl; I have no title and no estate and no lands and no horses. I may have a little money upon my marriage, but it is not worth mentioning. And as he knows my family better than any casual guest would ever get to know them, he knows better than to want to become a part of that.’

  She clenched her hands into fists. ‘I bet that is it. He only said that he didn’t want to see me again, because he doesn’t want to be a part of that crazy bunch.’

  Her voice sounded desperate, as if she was trying to convince herself that that was the reason, and not that something was wrong with her.

  Or that Albert had been right and the gardener-architect had never cared for her in the first place.

  Sorry for the lonely girl, Alkmene touched her arm. ‘If he has some pride, he is probably mad he got sent away by your brother. Did it happen after your father’s death?’

  Anne nodded. ‘The very next morning. Albert said he was tired of me fawning over this man and he wanted him to leave. I was mortified. But Helena supported him of course and… There is nothing to be done when the both of them make up their minds about something. Even Father knew that.’

  Alkmene thought about the late Lord Winters’ appalled cry when his son had come back from travelling with Helena as his bride. ‘You have betrayed me’ or something like that.

  What had the two of them done that counted as betrayal?

  Their marriage?

  Their love even?

  Anne hung her head. ‘You are right. I wanted to come here to see him. I thought he would be glad. I thought we’d have a chance now that he no longer works for my family. But he doesn’t want to see me any more.’

  Alkmene bit her lip. ‘That is kind of cruel. Your father has just died, and he doesn’t even offer you a sympathetic ear? He just sends you off, like you were never anything to him? Are you sure he wasn’t interested in your name or money anyway? I know it is painful to acknowledge, but why else would he not want to know you any more right now?’

  Anne stepped away from her. ‘He is not like that. You do not understand at all.’ And she ran off down the path in the direction of the croquet lawn.

  Alkmene sighed.

  Jake popped up behind her, carrying their picnic basket and the rolled up blanket under his arm. ‘What did you say on our way over here?’ he mused. ‘That you needed me to carry for you and fetch for you. It does make me feel like a dog. Or a mule.’

  Alkmene slapped his arm. ‘Be serious. The poor girl is upset because this gardener who used to work for her father doesn’t want to know her any more. Guess when he was fired? The very morning after Lord Winters’ death. Remember the turned-over flower bed? What if he was sent off, escorted off the premises and had no chance to get at his loot?’

  Jake shook his head. ‘The flower bed is quite close to the wall. He could have come at night, climbed over the wall and gotten it out. Why not act right away and vanish with the jewels to France? Why stick around, working on a neighbouring estate? He just rejected Anne, you tell me, so his interest in her can’t be the reason for staying either.’

  ‘Perhaps he figured nobody would look for them in that hiding place. Maybe he feels safe because another got arrested and he is just biding his time.’

  Jake shook his head again. ‘He will know the jewels were not found on Mac when he was arrested. Sure, the murder is hung on him, but the theft? I think if our gardener was the thief, he should have come by now, if there is anything to be had there. Would you feel easy letting a fortune in stolen stones lie about?’

  ‘Not exactly. But nobody said he felt easy.’ Alkmene nodded in the direction of the man with the wheelbarrow.

  He had halted and stood with his head thrown back, staring up at the blue skies as if he was so frustrated he could just scream.

  Then he rubbed his face with his dirty hands, his shoulders slumping.

  Jake leaned over and said, ‘I think I have a question about these gardens. You stay out of sight and don’t get into trouble.’

  Before she could ask what he intended, or splutter that she never got into any trouble, Jake had walked away already, using a circular route to end up close to the deceased Lord Winters’ ex gardener.

  Alkmene took a deep breath and decided it might be best for her to go see the house up close.

  Perhaps she could learn something worthwhile there.

  In any case, she had to play her part as innocent guest of the bereaved family, as best she could.

  ‘That is actually from China,’ a voice said behind Alkmene.

  She was standing and leaning over a vase with a delicate painted pattern of tiny houses and figures, birds in the skies that could be barn swallows. She started upright and smiled at the man with the military appearance – straight back, short hair, stiff shoulders, small moustache. He smiled back, reaching out his hand. ‘General DeBurgh, at your service.’

  ‘Lady Alkmene Callender. I am staying at the Winters estate.’

  His expression became sober. ‘For the funeral of course. Poor bugger. Got clubbed in his own home. I always tell my wife: you never know where danger might be lurking. In India we felt unsafe, because of the danger of rebellion, a grab for power and all, you know. But here we feel safe, in our own country, our own home.’ He shook his head. ‘Very sad.’

  ‘Indeed. I understood he had friends over the night before he died. To think how they parted, laughing, not knowing one of them would be dead so very soon.’

  ‘Yes, terrible.’ The general folded his hands behind his back, standing with feet planted apart. ‘We were there, you know, me and my wife. Yes, it was a very lively night. Talk, play. His daughter-in-law is a great musician, you know. Plays the piano
like a professional. Sings quite well too. She sang lovely that night. Something from an opera I think. I keep confusing all of that. Not very opera-minded you know. My wife is. We had great port. We talked about old times. About India.’

  His eyes got a distant look for a moment. ‘We all knew each other there. We all visited and had dinner. Excellent curry made by the native cooks. Can’t quite get it that way here. You can bring in the recipe, but it never tastes the same. Like the soul of it is somehow missing.’

  ‘So you knew Lady Winters in India? I mean, the late Lord Winters’ wife. My aunt.’

  ‘Ah.’ He seemed to stiffen. ‘Your aunt. I see. I had no idea, I… Well, we never discussed family life much you must understand. It was all hunting, war. That sort of thing. Old campaigns.’

  He reached up and twirled his moustache. ‘Your aunt. Indeed.’

  Alkmene held his gaze. ‘Did you like her?’

  ‘Like her?’ The question seemed to shock him. ‘Of course. Everybody liked her. She was a kind, gentle creature. Always taking care of animals and children. I think if left to her own devices she would have started an orphanage there for the lost and lonely. Good woman.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Good woman.’

  Alkmene sensed there was more to it, but how to press for it when you hardly knew someone. ‘I never met her, unfortunately. I try to form an image of her in my mind.’

  The general drew his thick brows together. ‘You might hear very different things, Lady Alkmene. And I would advise you not to believe everything you hear.’

  He pulled back his shoulders. ‘She was a good woman and thus we should remember her. Yes.’

  He looked over his shoulder as if he expected somebody to be there. ‘Well, if you are interested in these vases, I could show you some more in another room. I am pleased you came here. A good idea.’

  ‘Anne’s idea really.’ Alkmene followed him.

  The general grunted. ‘Poor girl. She never quite got over her mother’s death, I guess. The sensitive type, like her mother was. Yes, they said back then…’ He stared ahead a moment. ‘Poor girl.’