3 A Reformed Character

by Cecilia Peartree

  'What about the murders?' said Christopher. 'And the protection racket?'

  'We've tracked down Roberto Petrelli to a private clinic in Edinburgh. You may not be surprised to hear he's suffering from gunshot wounds too. We're still pursuing our enquiries into that one. And we have an APB out for Giancarlo Petrelli. He won't get far.'

  Christopher leaned against the wall. He felt very tired again suddenly in spite of having had a nap.

  'Well, that's about enough for now,' said Mr Smith. 'You can go back in there if you want. We'll be sending in another constable too in case Ms Peebles wakes up and says something relevant. Thank you for your help, Mr Wilson and, as I've already said to Mr McLean, forget most of what I've said to you.'

  Christopher returned to his chair. The constable with the notebook got a hard chair and a stern lecture from one of the nurses about not tiring the patient or expecting her to say too much if she woke up. They all settled down.

  Interesting that Mr Smith had also dismissed the young men as lightweight. But who else was there? Roberto Petrelli could have carried out the two murders, but he hadn't been around when Amaryllis got shot. In any case, who had shot him? Was it possible that Giulia Petrelli was up to her neck in it? Mr Smith didn't seem to have considered the women. Did he know something, or was he just being sexist in disregarding them?

  Christopher took a moment to feel sorry for Victoria, who, as far as he could tell, was the innocent victim in all this. First of all her boy-friend had been framed - or had he? - for the murder of Alan Donaldson, then her grandmother had been murdered, then her father shot... It must have been all too close to home for her. He pictured her little oval olive-skinned face, eyes brimming with tears, nose becomingly pink... He remembered hearing about her unselfishness at going along to the railway yard to make sure Darren was safe, the night of Alan Donaldson's murder. Making sure he was safe. Taking him to the murder house. Where Darren had slept like a log. Had slept through the murder.... almost as if he had been drugged, on top of the drinks he had with his friends.

  Christopher realised that, apart from Darren, Victoria was the only other person who had an excuse for being in the murder house that night. The only person who could have left DNA or fingerprints there without arousing suspicion. Was Victoria the enforcer who helped her father run the protection racket? Did she drive the car for him and had she taken over after he was shot?

  She was the twin whose life chances had been taken away, not because she was unworthy, but because of her gender. Had she tried to compensate for this by working with her father, showing that she was a worthier offspring than her brother? Then when he still seemed to prefer Giancarlo, how resentful would that make her? Resentful enough to kill her grandmother and shoot at her father? Panicky enough to shoot someone who seemed to be getting close to the right answer?

  '... all fairy-tales,' he said to himself out loud. He looked over at Amaryllis. Her eyes were open and she was smiling at him.

  'Tell me - fairy-tales,' she said with some difficulty.

  A nurse came into the room. 'Good,' she said to Amaryllis. 'Back in the land of the living. Let's see how you're doing.'

  She did all the usual checks and went out again. The policeman looked up and smiled. Christopher grinned back at him. He was swamped by a warm wave of happiness. It was almost worth it all just for this moment.

  Amaryllis had closed her eyes again. Christopher was desperate to discuss his latest insight, but he persuaded himself to be patient. She must be exhausted, after all. Probably she just needed to sleep.

  Chapter 26 All wrapped up

  Amaryllis knew everyone thought her an extremely impatient patient. She wanted to get out of bed before she could stand, to walk down the corridor before she could walk, and to leave the hospital days before the doctors thought she was ready. In the end they discharged her on condition she went to stay with Christopher until she could make herself a cup of tea and remember who the Prime Minister was.

  Well before that, she passed on her memories of the shooting to Mr Smith, who, she thought, hid his surprise manfully, and she nagged at her visitors every day for information about how the man-hunt was going. She had a little trouble forgiving Christopher for reaching the right conclusion about Victoria without even being shot by the girl. But on balance she decided the fact that he had saved her life outweighed this faux pas.

  By the time she left the hospital Giancarlo Petrelli and his sister were under lock and key. Giulia was the only member of the family still at large, and she had gone into hiding with Penelope Johnstone. Presumably both women were thoroughly mortified about the activities of their offspring, although Giulia had slightly more cause to be mortified than Penelope had, since her daughter had turned out to be a criminal mastermind at the age of twenty-one, and would quite likely spend a good deal of her life in prison. Amaryllis wasn't expecting to see either Giulia or Penelope at Cosy Clicks for some time, if ever.

  Soon after she got out of hospital, she nagged Christopher into taking her to visit the Laidlaws. Jock McLean tagged along with them on the unlikely pretext that he wanted to see how Mrs Laidlaw's hyacinths were getting on and if their root systems were larger than those of the bulbs he was growing in special jars. Amaryllis knew he wanted to check up on Darren and make sure he had some plans for the future now that he was out of prison again.

  She hoped Mrs Laidlaw had told Darren the truth about his father and that they could each forgive the other for the things they had done in the past. She hoped there wouldn't be too many of the kind of conversations that start with 'But I don't understand why they - ' and 'Just one thing - why did he do - ?' She had already been through all that with the police and to a lesser extent with her friends.

  Christopher, of course, understood the whole thing intuitively. It was almost as if he had tapped into her brain.

  Tricia Laidlaw had made them a big coffee cake with swirly icing.

  Darren was wearing a sweatshirt that didn't have a hood. It said 'Chicago Cubs' on the front, but you couldn't have everything.

  'All right, Darren?' said Jock to him.

  Darren nodded. He had a slightly dazed but contented look.

  'Darren won't say this, so I'll have to,' said Tricia, blushing. 'He's very grateful to all of you - and so am I - for believing in him when he was in trouble. If there's anything either of us can do for you, now or later, then just say the word.'

  'You can bring round my Meals on Wheels any time,' said Jock.

  'It's no use pretending you're ready for Meals on Wheels, Mr McLean, because we all know you're just putting it on,' said Tricia, patting him on the arm.

  Amaryllis couldn't believe how benignly Jock reacted to this. He grinned and ate another mouthful of coffee cake, getting the butter-cream icing all over his chin. She wasn't sure what had happened to him lately. It was almost as if he had changed himself in order to be able to effect a change in Darren. In both cases it was probably for the better, although of course Jock's transformation might not last. He was much too old for a permanent change in personality.

  'What I don't understand,' said Tricia solemnly, 'is why Victoria Petrelli did it. How could she kill her own grandmother? It isn't natural.'

  'She had to kill Old Mrs Petrelli because she thought her grandmother knew too much,' said Amaryllis. 'She hadn't realised I spoke Italian, either, and she suddenly realised Old Mrs Petrelli might spill the beans to me at the next Cosy Clicks... Apparently that was the only part of the whole thing she was remorseful about. Mr Smith told me she was very insistent that she wouldn't have done it if Old Mrs Petrelli hadn't caught her coming in the night of Alan Donaldson's murder with bloodstained hands, and washing them in the kitchen sink.'

  What she didn't mention was that Victoria had also gone into a tirade about how it was all Amaryllis's fault for understanding Italian. And after that she had physically attacked Mr Smith for daring to defend Amaryllis.

  'And what about her father?' said Tricia. 'Did she shoo
t him as well?'

  'She and her father were in the woods chasing us,' said Amaryllis. She was starting to tire now, but if anyone had the right to know all these details, it was the Laidlaws. 'Giancarlo had been following them, because he had become suspicious of what was going on - he knew his father was involved with the protection racket, but he didn't know about Victoria. When he saw them going after us, he grabbed Roberto's gun and shot him in the leg to stop them. Victoria was furious with him. That was another thing that made her freak out during the police interviews.'

  'So Giancarlo wasn't as bad as the others after all,' said Christopher. 'He saved Amaryllis's life too, of course.'

  'Yes,' said Amaryllis. 'He saw that she was going to shoot me, and he tried to knock the gun out of her hand at the last minute. He didn't quite manage it but if he hadn't done what he did....'

  There was a pause as they all considered this.

  'So why have they still got him in custody, then?' said Jock.

  'He was part of the gang for a while,' said Amaryllis. 'At first it was just a laugh to him - going to one or two businesses where the owner hadn't paid up, and vandalising them a bit. It was only after the murders he realised how serious it was getting. He could have gone to the police at that point, but he didn't want to incriminate his family. The same thing with Giulia. She must have had her suspicions, but they don't seem to have any grounds for locking her up.'

  'She's nice,' said Darren suddenly from his place near the door. 'She used to give me free ice-cream when I went round there.'

  The shocking discoveries that his father was a gangster and his girl-friend was really his half-sister and had tried to frame him for murder didn't seem to have made much impact on him at all. Perhaps they cancelled each other out in some weird way, reflected Amaryllis.

  'So, Darren,' said Jock. 'What are you planning to do now?'

  They all waited with bated breath.

  Would he shrug his shoulders and say 'Nothing', as he might have done a few months before? Would he reveal complicated plans to go to college and train to be a car mechanic, or a joiner, or to design computer games or study philosophy?

  'Get a job,' he said.

  Tricia Laidlaw smiled broadly. She seemed to hover on the brink of telling them herself, and then she said, 'Go on, Darren. Tell them about it.'

  'Going to work at the cattery. Rosie says I can.'

  He waited for their approval. Amaryllis felt like applauding.

  'Just one thing,' said Mrs Laidlaw.

  Oh no. There was always one. Amaryllis tried to glare at her, but found herself too tired to work her facial muscles.

  'About our contract.'

  'Contract?' echoed Amaryllis.

  'Yes, don't you remember I hired you as a private investigator? How much do I owe you?'

  'Nothing,' said Amaryllis firmly. She decided that, after wearing herself out telling the whole truth to the police, it was time for a bit of deception again. After all, she wasn't the one who had changed beyond recognition so there was nothing to stop her going back to her bad old ways. 'I don't remember anything about it.'

  'Don't be silly, you must remember!'

  'I don't. It was the gunshot. It must have affected my memory. Anyway, I didn't do very much investigation. Nothing I wouldn't have been doing anyway.'

  'I thought you'd say that,' said Mrs Laidlaw. 'So I got you this.'

  She reached down under the table and pulled out a package.

  Oh God, thought Amaryllis, don't let it be bath salts or cup cakes. Or a pot-plant.

  'Open it,' said Christopher, sounding amused.

  She untied the pink ribbon, unwrapped the layers of gold paper and white tissue, and pulled out a bullet-proof vest. It was dusky pink, with a stylish ruffled collar and gold lettering that said 'DANGER! P.I. at work'.

  'I had it made to order,' said Tricia Laidlaw.

  Despite her exhaustion and the aching shoulder she knew would bother her in bad moments for the rest of her life, Amaryllis got up and flung her arms around Tricia. She was laughing as she spoke.

  'How did you know? It's just what I've always wanted!'

  Author's Note:

  A Reformed Character is a mystery novel in the 'Pitkirtly Mystery' series. If you enjoy reading it then you should try the following, also available for Kindle:

  MORE PITKIRTLY MYSTERIES BY CECILIA PEARTREE

  Crime in the Community

  Reunited in Death

  A NEAR FUTURE SCI-FI NOVEL BY CECILIA'S ALTER EGO (SHEILA PERRY)

  The Mountain and the Flood

  Please visit my blog at http://mccallumogilvy.wordpress.com to learn more about me and my writing plans.