What about doctors, you may ask, what about the miracles of modern medicine? Well, modern medicine has been unable to help me. As a matter of fact, I have already undergone a trepanation. Nobody knows about it. I wouldn’t want it bandied about, so, please, keep this particular piece of information under your hat.
The operation was conducted not such a long time ago by that damned woman who looks like Deirdre. She took something out of my head. She assured me the operation had been an unqualified success. She said I would be ‘fine’.
Did I become more normal than I had been? I don’t think so. As a matter of fact, I have been feeling much worse since. Which only proves my point about the inadequacy of medical science.
But you will want to know more about the murder. Well, this is how I set about it. I told Joan I wanted her to help me retrieve a compromising paper from Olga Klimt’s house. I said we might have to search for it. I invented a friend and said the paper belonged to him. I said he had been a client of Olga Klimt’s and that I was keen on saving his reputation. She demurred, but I managed to persuade her to go to Philomel Cottage. I gave her a front-door key. As it happens, I am in possession of several keys. I was after all the previous owner. I told her to go first and unlock the door.
I caught up with her as she was about to enter the hall. I meant to stab her after we’d got inside but she happened to glance over her shoulder and she saw the knife. I was compelled to do it on the spot, you see.
I wish I could have explained I was doing her a favour, that she should be grateful to me, but of course it was quite impossible in the circumstances. I don’t suppose she would have understood anyhow.
What did I feel when I saw my daughter pitch forward? A sense of fulfilment, that’s what. The ecstasy of achievement that is only realised in dreams. A kind of an apotheosis.
I didn’t look back. I hailed a cab and went home.
The knife is actually an ancient Venetian stiletto that I had been using as a paper knife. Its blade is deadly and it is slim enough to fit inside my brolly. You can find it buried among the orchids.
What else is there? You said you hated the idea of loose ends. Oh yes. That draft. The new will. Once I made up my mind that Joan should die, I produced a draft for a new will and made it look as though I intended to leave all my money and property to her. That was my way of ensuring that I wouldn’t become a suspect. I mean, what kind of a papa kills his daughter after making her his sole legatee? That was clever of me, you must admit. I knew Deirdre would get to see the draft sooner or later. Deirdre, as I believe I told you, is notorious for her forays into my study.
Choosing Philomel Cottage was part of the smokescreen I set out to create. I wanted to give the impression Olga Klimt was the intended victim and that Joan was killed by mistake. Joan had dyed her hair blond for some reason, to make herself more alluring to Billy, if not to Charlie, I suppose. That’s what gave me the idea.
I wonder if you have managed to work out that Joan couldn’t have received a phone call while we sat at Richoux’s? That was my one slip but then I couldn’t have known she had left her mobile at Sieg Mortimer’s flat. He told me you took special interest in the damned thing. No one rang her. There was no mysterious caller. No one asked her to go to Philomel Cottage at five-thirty – apart from me, that is.
I contacted Olga Klimt and told her to go to see Charlie. I rang her on the Philomel Cottage landline since I had no idea what her mobile number was. I knew she would immediately try to call Charlie, as I’d got her worried, so I immediately rang him on his mobile and pretended I was someone from his bank. I muffled my voice. I kept his phone busy for a couple of minutes – till Olga got to the Tube where I knew there would be no network.
As I sit writing this, I am convinced that Deirdre and Bedaux are plotting my demise. Earlier on they were next door, in Deirdre’s boudoir. It is outrageous that she should have let that villain into the house. Well, they won’t be able to bump me off now, I won’t give them the pleasure as I intend to do it myself, so there.
I have actually left all my money to you and Collingwood Castle to the National Trust. I have already contacted my solicitors, the will’s been witnessed, so this time the whole legal side of it is as it should be.
If, for some reason, you are not happy about this arrangement, perhaps you could choose to use the money to have our old beloved haunt, the Military Club, restored to its former glory? To the days when it stood – in the words of those bloody Socialists – for ‘everything reactionary and establishmentarian’? Please, have the dilatory waiter sacked. And make sure the coffee continues excellent. I would be most grateful.
It is time for me to go. My only regret is that my trip to Scotland will have to be postponed indefinitely.
Goodbye, Payne. Ave Caesar – and all that kind of rot.
Yours, Collingwood.
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
R.T. RAICHEV is a writer and researcher who grew up in Bulgaria and wrote his university dissertation on English crime fiction. He has lived in London since 1989, and The Killing of Olga Klimt is the ninth book in his popular Antonia Darcy and Major Payne mystery series.
ALSO IN THE ANTONIA
DARCY AND MAJOR PAYNE
MYSTERY SERIES
The Hunt for Sonya Dufrette
Assassins at Ospreys
The Death of Corinne
The Little Victim
The Curious Incident at Claridge’s
Murder at the Villa Byzantine
The Murder of Gonzago
The Riddle of Sphinx Island
COPYRIGHT
This is a work of fiction.
All the characters are imaginary and bear no relation to any living person.
R.T. Raichev
First published in 2014
The Mystery Press is an imprint of The History Press
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This ebook edition first published in 2014
All rights reserved
© R.T. Raichev, 2014
The right of R.T. Raichev to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
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