by Nicola Upson
‘But glasses suit you.’
Marta laughed, then added more seriously: ‘This goes with it as part of the present.’ She handed over an envelope with Josephine’s name typed neatly on the front. ‘I thought I’d better try the machine out before I gave it to you. The bell has a particularly nice ring, I noticed.’ Josephine removed the sheet of notepaper and read the words ‘Come with me’. ‘Consider it an IOU for the air tickets,’ Marta added. ‘The typewriter’s portable, so if we don’t need the letters, you can always bring it with you and write your next book on it instead.’ She sat down next to Josephine and took her hand. ‘You don’t have to decide anything now, and this probably isn’t the best time to discuss it. I know it might not even be possible, but it makes me feel better to think that we have a choice.’
‘Of course we have a choice. I’m not any happier than you are about being on different continents.’
‘So you’ll think about it?’
‘Yes, I’ll think about it. Now, wait there.’
She fetched her bag and handed over the tissue-wrapped envelope. Marta opened it, looking first confused, then astonished. ‘But these are the deeds to your cottage. You can’t just sign half of it over to me.’
‘Why not? It’s always been our cottage, and it would mean nothing to me without you.’ Marta began to object, but Josephine silenced her with a kiss. ‘If it makes you feel any better, the cottage is a selfish present, too. I thought it might give you a reason to come home.’
‘You’re the only reason I need to come home – and it’s not for ever. I promised you that.’ She looked at the two gifts and smiled. ‘They don’t seem very compatible, do they?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I think they sum us up quite nicely.’
The sound of the dinner gong drifted up from the hallway, and Marta looked at her watch. ‘I thought supper was going to be later?’
‘It’s supposed to be at six.’ The noise persisted, clearly a summons to go downstairs, and Josephine sighed. ‘God knows what’s happened now. We’d better go and see.’
13
The tide was in Penrose’s favour when he was finally ready to go back to the Mount – by boat this time, and with the welcome support of the local police. It had taken him a while to explain to Johnny Soper why the man detained in custody was not being charged with his mother’s murder, and Penrose was all too conscious that he had no alternative scenarios to offer. He was exhausted, the physical effort of crossing the causeway matched only by the mental strain of his interview with Jack Naylor, and he didn’t relish the task ahead: Naylor’s confession had stirred up too many memories, and Emily Soper’s death – at the heart of this proud, tight-knit community – had all the hallmarks of another domestic tragedy, of other lives destroyed in the saddest of circumstances.
It was early evening as the boat sailed into the little harbour, and the lights from the front row of cottages were deceptively welcoming; as they docked at the east pier, he could almost believe that the sun had set on a normal day. Only the museum was in darkness, with one of the islanders standing guard outside, and he watched Johnny’s face as he and Violet climbed the steps. ‘She shouldn’t be in there on her own,’ Violet said, anticipating his next dilemma. ‘Can we go to her? Pay our respects?’
‘Not tonight, I’m afraid,’ Penrose said. ‘The pathologist is coming first thing in the morning, and I can’t allow anyone else into the building until he’s been, not even you. I know how wrong that sounds, but I do promise you that there’s a reason for it. It will give us the best possible chance of finding out who did this.’
They accepted his explanation, but walked over to the building anyway and stood quietly outside. Penrose left them to their thoughts until they were ready to come up to the castle with him, and sent some of his Penzance colleagues on ahead to deal with Gerald Lancaster, glad to hand that particular inquiry over. He was just beginning to consider what to do first about the village murder when he saw Josephine and Marta coming towards him along the harbour. ‘We’ve been looking out for you,’ Josephine said. ‘You’ve been gone so long. We were worried sick.’
More pleased to see them than he could possibly have said, Penrose brought them quickly up to date. ‘I’ve got to tell Hilaria what’s going on, so as soon as Mr Soper and his fiancée are ready, I’ll take them up to the castle. She’ll want to talk to them.’
‘She’s not there,’ Marta said. ‘She wanted to do something for the village after everything that’s happened, so she’s organising a memorial for Mrs Soper and we were summoned by gong to help. It’s in that building down at the end.’ She pointed along the harbour to a granite sail loft and workshop. ‘Obviously we couldn’t have it in the church.’
‘It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, but all the islanders and staff are going,’ Josephine added. ‘Hilaria thought it would bring everyone together. Marlene’s there with her.’ She looked closely at him, obviously concerned. ‘This has been a terrible day, hasn’t it? That poor boy.’ It was typical of Josephine to refuse to see things in black and white, and Penrose was grateful to her for articulating what he felt but could not allow himself to say. ‘It’s going to get worse, too,’ she added. ‘We’ve got news of our own.’ He listened in surprise as she repeated a conversation they had had with Hilaria about Nora Pendean. ‘Hilaria wanted to tackle her about it straight away, but we persuaded her to wait for you.’
‘I’m glad you did. God knows how she might have reacted, innocent or guilty, when emotions are running high like this.’ He was quiet for a moment, thinking about the housekeeper’s behaviour at the museum; she had been so certain that her friend couldn’t have gone to Marazion, and so upset – guilty, almost – about the cat, and yet her surprise at seeing the body had seemed genuine enough. ‘I’ll have to go and talk to her, but I need to see Hilaria first. She might want to be there when I question her. Where are the other guests?’
‘All together, up at the castle,’ Josephine said. ‘Barbara Penhaligon is packed and ready to go on the first boat out, and Rachel Lancaster is looking after Mrs Hartley. She’s going to stay with her for a bit, I gather.’
‘Mrs Hartley isn’t going to her sister?’
‘Not immediately, no. She wants to be at home, where she was happy with Richard. That’s understandable, I suppose. And Rachel is vowing to divorce her husband, so I suppose that’s the weekend’s silver lining.’
‘God knows we could do with one. I’d better go and find Hilaria. Are you coming to the memorial?’
‘No, we thought we’d leave them to it. They were very welcoming, but they don’t need outsiders at a time like this. And anyway, we promised Hilaria we’d keep an eye out for Mrs Carmichael. She’s expected, now that a crossing is possible.’
‘Surely she won’t come at the eleventh hour? Especially if she knows what’s been happening here?’
‘Oh, I think she will,’ Marta said. ‘It meant a lot to her to be here.’
Josephine smiled and Penrose looked at her curiously, but there wasn’t time for any more conversation. Over by the museum, Violet was gently encouraging Johnny to come away. ‘Miss St Aubyn is hosting an event in the village tonight to remember your mother,’ Penrose said, when they rejoined him. ‘She’ll be glad to know you’re here.’
‘That’s kind, isn’t it, Johnny?’ Violet said, but he just nodded, looking utterly lost and dazed now that the news had sunk in. The small group walked along the harbour to the building on the other side of the tram shed, a large carpenter’s workshop which was traditionally used for village gatherings. The chairs were still laid out from the Christmas concert of a few days before, but all the decorations had been respectfully removed and the only trace of the festive season was a practical one: a series of trestle tables running along one end of the room, gradually filling with food from the castle. It was typical of Hilaria to have come up with such a simple, unifying gesture, and the only thing that was out of place was the apron that Marlene was wearing as she
helped the staff to butter bread. Under different circumstances, the expression on Violet Carter’s face would have been priceless.
‘Archie, thank God you’re back,’ Hilaria said when she saw him. ‘We were all so worried about you. Is there any news?’ Before he had a chance to answer, she noticed Johnny standing behind him. ‘It’s Mr Soper, isn’t it? I thought you were in Plymouth, but how fitting that you’re here. I’m so very, very sorry for your loss. Your mother was a fine woman.’ She took his hand and spoke with such sincerity and warmth that Johnny seemed comforted for the first time since hearing the news, and Penrose waited impatiently for Hilaria to be free; he was keen to get on with his unfinished business, but he couldn’t possibly discuss Nora Pendean in front of Johnny.
‘Mr Penrose?’
Penrose turned round, so deep in thought about the housekeeper that it startled him to see her husband. ‘Mr Pendean, what can I do for you? How is your wife?’
‘Nora’s all right, but I need to speak to you. It’s urgent.’
‘Tom!’
A series of fleeting emotions passed across Pendean’s face when Johnny Soper called his name – surprise, followed by affection and then awkwardness. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, half in anger. ‘You’re supposed to be up country.’
‘We came down to tell Mum the good news. Vi and I have just got engaged.’
His eyes filled with tears again, and Penrose expected the older man to comfort him somehow, or at least offer his condolences, but he didn’t. ‘What did you want to talk to me about, Mr Pendean?’ he asked.
The question was ignored, and Tom spoke first to Johnny. ‘I’m so sorry, lad,’ he said. ‘I killed your mum. I didn’t mean to, and I wish to God that things had been different, but I can’t let you go on wondering.’ He turned back to Penrose. ‘I killed Emily Soper,’ he repeated. ‘She didn’t fall down the stairs.’
Everyone fell silent, and Penrose felt the shock ripple through the room. ‘Mr Pendean, are you sure of what you’re saying?’ he asked. ‘Please think very carefully before you continue.’
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ Tom replied, without hesitation. ‘I killed her on the morning of Christmas Eve. We had an argument over something and nothing, and I lost my temper. Then I panicked, and tried to make it look like an accident.’
‘But you were like a father to me,’ Johnny objected, and the hurt in his voice was so much like Naylor’s that Penrose could hardly bear to hear it. ‘You cared more about me than my own father ever did. How could you do that?’
The two men stared at each other and Penrose was about to intervene when another voice beat him to it. ‘Tom, what have you been saying?’ Nora Pendean stood in the doorway, her face ashen with fear as she looked at her husband. ‘What have you said, Tom?’
‘I’ve told them what I did, love,’ he said calmly. ‘I couldn’t go on hiding it. Johnny has a right to know what happened to his mum.’
‘But you didn’t do it!’ She turned to Penrose. ‘Don’t believe a word of it. He’s saying it to protect me, so please don’t punish him. He’s only lying because he loves me.’
‘Listen to me, Penrose. I went in to see Emily yesterday morning, while Nora was up at the castle. She’d been mending one of the kings from the nativity and she had it on the counter in front of her, ready to be collected, so I offered to take it to save Nora the bother of coming down when she had so much else to do. We got talking, and Emily said something about our daughter that made me see red, so I just lashed out. I had the figure in my hands, and before I knew it, Emily was lying on the floor. I tried to help her, but there was nothing I could do …’
‘Tom, please!’ his wife screamed.
‘… so I washed the figure and cleaned up after myself, and put Emily where we found her today.’
‘And Mrs Pendean had nothing to do with this?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I should never have told her, but she knew something was wrong. She wanted to help me, but all she did was put the figure back in the church last night. I swear that’s the only part she played in any of this.’
‘That’s why you were in the church last night, Mrs Pendean?’
‘No, don’t listen to him. I went to the church to pray for forgiveness – for what I did, nothing to do with Tom.’
Penrose didn’t know who to believe, but he could see that neither was about to stand down, and he knew that the only chance of getting to the truth was to question them separately once there was some forensic evidence to go on. There was certainly nothing to be gained from continuing such a public debate, particularly in front of the dead woman’s son. ‘I’d like you both to come with me,’ he said quietly. ‘You’ll be taken to Penzance police station, and held there on suspicion of the murder of Emily Soper, and of conspiracy to pervert the course of justice.’
He took them outside, relieved that neither seemed inclined to object, and was just in time to see a couple of uniformed men from Penzance leading Gerald Lancaster over to the boats. He waved to attract their attention, and the detective inspector responsible for pursuing the case peeled off from the group. ‘Busy day today, sir?’ he said, looking curiously at the Pendeans.
‘You could say that.’ Penrose took him to one side and briefed him on what had happened. ‘I’m hoping for some physical evidence to prove which one of them is telling the truth,’ he said, ‘but in the meantime, you’ll have my full report first thing in the morning.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
He watched as the Pendeans were escorted to the boat, then a thought struck him. ‘Wait a moment,’ he called. The policeman did as he asked and the couple turned back in surprise. ‘Which of the three kings was the murder weapon?’ he asked, looking quickly between them for their separate reactions.
Tom hesitated, baffled by the question, but Nora answered immediately. ‘Melchior,’ she said. ‘I killed Emily with Melchior.’
‘But I don’t know their names,’ her husband objected. ‘That doesn’t mean—’
‘Gold, frankincense or myrrh, Mr Pendean?’ Penrose interrupted. ‘If you washed the figure, surely you noticed what he was carrying?’
‘Myrrh,’ Pendean said, looking nervously at Nora.
Penrose saw the relief on her face as her husband gave the wrong answer, and nodded to his colleagues to take them away. Deep in thought, he walked back along the harbour to the sail loft. Usually, it would have frustrated him to hand over a case before it was finished, but he was happy to let this one go. Perhaps it was because the island was so close to his heart, perhaps because he felt sorry for Hilaria, but the sadness of the day had affected him more than he would have cared to admit. ‘So, Mr Penrose, will we all sleep safely in our beds tonight?’
He looked up and saw Marlene standing by the harbour wall, smoking a cigarette and looking out to sea. ‘Some of us will,’ he said, walking over to join her. ‘Some of us might struggle a little.’
She passed him her cigarette case. ‘I’m so glad you have come back. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.’
‘You’re going?’
‘In the morning, yes. Miss St Aubyn has offered me a car to the airfield at Torquay. I’m going to Paris to be with Maria and her father. At times like this, you realise how important family is.’
Penrose nodded, suddenly longing more than anything to see his own daughter. ‘Yes, you’re right.’
‘It has been such a pleasure to meet you, Archie. I wish the circumstances had been different – we might have had time to get to know each other better. You must come and see me when I’m next in London. Promise me you will.’
‘I promise.’
They went back inside, where some of the islanders had begun to gather. Johnny was surrounded by well-wishers, and Penrose waited to speak to him. ‘As soon as there’s any news, you’ll be the first to know,’ he said, when he had explained what was happening.
‘And you and Miss Carter must stay at the castle for as long as you need to,’ Hilaria
added. ‘It goes without saying that we would love you both to make your home on the island. Your mother ran the museum for so many years, and I can’t think of anyone better to take over the reins. Take some time to talk it through. You don’t have to give me your answer until you’re ready.’
Penrose saw the look of horror pass across Violet’s face, but she needn’t have worried. ‘That’s very kind, Miss, and I know how much the Mount meant to my mother, but we’ve got our own life now,’ Johnny said. He squeezed Violet’s hand. ‘We’re happy as we are, but thank you for the offer.’
Hilaria smiled. ‘Well, if you change your mind, you’ll always be welcome here.’
‘Will you go away for a while now?’ Penrose asked her, as she watched them walk off together.
‘You must have read my mind. I’ll spend a few days with my father when everything is settled here, then go abroad for a bit. Somewhere hot, I think, where they don’t hold much with Christmas.’ He smiled, but she didn’t return it. ‘Not for long, though. I’ll have to leave permanently sooner or later, so I want to make the most of the time I’ve got left. There are still things to do.’
She left him to greet some new arrivals, and Penrose was grateful to slip quietly away for some time on his own. He lit another cigarette and stared up at the sky, which was remarkably clear and still after the violence of the storms, strewn with frosted white stars that offered all the light he needed. In the distance, he heard the chugging of a boat and watched as it approached the island, cutting its engine as it entered the harbour. The boatman jumped out and helped a woman with a suitcase to climb the steps, then set off back to the mainland, and Penrose watched as Josephine and Marta walked along the pier to welcome the house party’s final guest. To his surprise, they obviously knew her, and as the three women hugged and turned towards the castle, he wondered why they hadn’t mentioned that Mrs Carmichael was a friend.
He caught them up by the old dairy, halfway up the Mount. Josephine saw him first and gave him that smile again, then caught the stranger’s arm. The woman turned round, unwinding the scarf from her face, and Archie stared at his daughter in astonishment and joy. ‘Phyllis! What on earth are you doing here? And what’s all this about Mrs Carmichael? Surely you haven’t got married without telling me?’