The Nine Bright Shiners

by Anthea Fraser

  ‘It was a trick, wasn’t it? You weren’t in any hurry for the sketch. Why did you do it?’

  ‘As a form of insurance. Which, it appears, may well be necessary.’

  She fought to steady her voice, swallow the heartbeats which fluttered in her throat. ‘You swear you haven’t harmed them?’

  He was losing patience with her. ‘For God’s sake, I’ve said they’re all right. Whether they remain all right depends on you.’

  She whispered, ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘I need to think. I hadn’t included you in my plans, and there’s too much at stake to take risks.’ He waved the knife at the nearer bed. ‘Sit down, while I work it out.’ He followed her, and they sat together on the cream, flowered duvet.

  He must have locked them up somewhere. A cupboard in his house? His garage? How could she let someone know where they were? They’d be terrified. Please let it be true, that he hadn’t hurt them. Oh God, how could she have let them go alone?

  Miles was fingering the blade, his eyes on its lethal point. Across the room, they had a clear view into the secret cupboard, with its priceless contents. How many people, through the centuries, had killed to gain possession of them? Miles was just one more at the end of the line.

  He said reasoningly, ‘They’re mine by right, as my father’s heir. You and Edward have no claim to them; your father was in hospital when they were found. And it wasn’t Sir Reginald who traced Quispe Tupac. Rowena’s not getting her hands on them again.’

  She said gently, ‘But Miles, they won’t be any use to you. You can’t sell them.’

  ‘Not as they are, of course. I’ll take a lead from the Spaniards – melt down the gold and break up the necklace. Any one of those stones could be worth a million. And I have contacts. There’ll be no problem.’

  Aghast, she stammered, ‘But you can’t destroy them! Your father risked everything for them!’

  ‘Look, I’m not interested in bloody Incas – I never have been. All that matters is what they’re worth to me. Edward and Rowena may have other plans, but they’re immaterial now.’

  There was no hope of rescue; he’d instructed her to tell no one she was coming here. Only the children knew, and they’d been taken hostage. She was completely on her own; her life and theirs depended on her quick thinking.

  She stole a sideways glance at him, and saw to her amazement that he was smiling. He was pleased with himself, well satisfied with the way things had gone. Could that be her chance, to play on his vanity? She’d heard it was a common weakness in murderers.

  With an effort, she said, ‘How did Marriott find out?’

  His smile broadened. ‘He didn’t. The police were on completely the wrong track. Marriott’s death had nothing to do with either Edward or the treasure.’

  She said weakly, ‘Then why –?’

  ‘Did I kill him? Because he was going to print a story which would have destroyed my career.’

  ‘What story?’ If she could keep him talking, some idea might come to her.

  He shrugged, ‘I’d been unwise enough to pass someone else’s work off as my own. When I was doing the Stately Homes series, I came across a folio of drawings under a pile of papers in an attic. They were exquisite – a series of eighteenth-century interiors, every detail meticulously observed. I made some discreet inquiries, and the owner clearly knew nothing about them, so I reasoned he wouldn’t miss them. As it happened, I’d been commissioned for something very similar, and the deadline was fast approaching. So I traced the drawings, and slipped those in instead. Not surprisingly, they were extremely well received, and brought me a lot of publicity. It was on the strength of them that I got the Buckhurst commission.’

  ‘And Guy Marriott found out?’

  ‘Yes, God knows how. He came down to see me. In fact the first time I saw you, in Monks’ Walk, I was on my way to meet him.’

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘Asked if I’d any comment on certain allegations he’d received. He wouldn’t tell me who’d made them. I denied everything, naturally, but he wasn’t fooled. After a lot of arguing, he said, “Well, Mr Cody, I’m going ahead with the story. You’re free to sue us, but I doubt if you will.” I tried to talk him round then. Damn it, it was only a story to him, but for me it’d be disaster. I even offered him money, but he wouldn’t budge. So I’d no choice.’

  Jan said aridly, ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Cracked him over the head when he wasn’t looking, and finished him off in the bath.’

  She felt the strands of nightmare closing over her. On the fringes of memory were Lady Peel’s words about his mother. ‘But what about the jacket and sequins?’ she asked. ‘And the wallet? Where did they fit in?’

  He gave a brief laugh. ‘That’s another story. They were in my cupboard, so I simply –’

  ‘But why?’ Jan interrupted. ‘What on earth were they doing in your cupboard?’ A part of her mind was genuinely curious; it was a puzzle she’d been living with for ten days. But the main part was simply encouraging his boasting, waiting for a moment’s inattention. Yet if her chance came, where could she run to? The en-suite bathroom was the nearest door with a lock, but if he were desperate enough, he could break it down. And the window was at the back of the house; she wouldn’t be able to attract attention.

  He was saying, ‘That was what confused the police. They were looking for a link-up, and there wasn’t one. The wallet business goes back to my row with Edward and Rowena. I was determined to find out the truth, and I reasoned that if there were any jewels, they’d be in a safe-deposit box somewhere. It was more than likely Edward’d have a note of the number, in his diary or wallet, so I pinched them, together with my own wallet and a few others to deflect suspicion – you were right there. But unfortunately, they were no help.

  ‘By this time it was the beginning of November, and kids were going round collecting money for Guy Fawkes Day. So I decided to play a trick on Edward, and work off my spleen by making a guy of him. All right, it was childish, but in my present mood it appealed to me. I’d put his wallet in the guy’s pocket for identification, and sew nine green sequins on the jacket. Then he’d know I was on to him.’

  ‘And what were you going to do with it?’

  ‘I hadn’t decided. Perhaps leave it on the Green, or even in front of the police station. The idea was to embarrass him, that’s all. I didn’t expect anyone else to see the significance.

  ‘So I bought some old clothes from a jumble sale, painted a face on a football, and assembled the thing. At which stage, I discovered he and Rowena had gone to Scotland for the week. There was no point in going through with it if he was away, so I put the dummy at the back of the cupboard and forgot about it.

  ‘What happened next was pure coincidence. When Marriott arrived and I opened the door to him, the sun was in my eyes and I thought for a moment it was Edward. I said something like, “I’m sorry – I thought you were someone else.”

  ‘And he said, “I’m always being told that. People say I look like that explorer chap on the telly.”

  ‘That was the first thing. Then, when he was dead, I had to decide what to do with the body. I couldn’t cart it round in its wet clothes, leaving a trail of water behind me. So I started to strip him, and as I pulled off his jacket, I noticed an envelope sticking out of a pocket. It was addressed to Guy Marriott. I hadn’t registered his first name before, but the word “Guy” leapt out at me, and I remembered the dummy in the cupboard. It struck me that it wasn’t too late to play the trick on Edward, and since Marriott had a look of him, it would be even more effective.’

  He was talking more to himself than to Jan, still with that chilling satisfaction at his ingenuity.

  ‘Mary had told me once there were mummies in Peru, so to hammer the point home, I tied a bandage round his arm. Then I wrapped him in a bin-bag so he’d leave no trace in the car, and drove up to Chedbury.’

  ‘Why Chedbury?’ The question was simpl
y to prolong his talking. She daren’t think what would happen when he stopped.

  ‘Partly to confuse the issue, partly because it was a quiet place to dump him. I did stop earlier, but a lorry with blazing headlamps came round the corner just as I was opening the boot. It was a near thing, so I didn’t take any more chances.’

  Playing on his vanity, Jan said, ‘How clever of you. Not many people could have thought clearly at such a time.’

  He nodded in agreement. ‘All the same, a body’s very different from a dummy. If I’d had time to think it through, I wouldn’t have used the wallet – it was too close to home. In any case, the plan misfired yet again; because of the tree, by the time the body was discovered Edward wasn’t here to be embarrassed.’ He smiled grimly. ‘I don’t mind telling you I’d some nasty moments when the police made the link with Peru. I hadn’t expected that – I suppose you pointed it out.’

  Jan searched desperately for more questions. ‘What about Lily?’

  ‘That was unfortunate. I’d received the letter and book that morning, and I knew you were in London. Having had all my suspicions about the treasure confirmed, I just had to see if I could find it.’

  ‘So you got in through the window Ben left open, and Lily heard you.’

  ‘It’s almost directly over the kitchen. It never occurred to me she’d be there. And of course, once she found me in the study opening drawers –’ He shrugged.

  Keep talking. Oh God, what could she say? What could she do? Time was running out.

  ‘I didn’t want to kill her,’ Miles was continuing, and a petulant note had crept into his voice. ‘And I don’t want to kill you, either. It’s a pity you didn’t stay safely in Australia.’

  Rigid with fear, Jan could only agree. ‘Let the children go, and I’ll do anything you want!’ she promised wildly.

  He smiled. How had she even thought him attractive? ‘But once they’re free, there’s nothing to hold you to that. You’re in no position to bargain.’

  ‘Look, you said they were your insurance, and they are. I’ll help you get away, if you’ll tell me where they are.’

  ‘I’m sorry. You see, you’re the only one who knows I did it.’

  ‘Exactly! Whereas if you kill me and disappear, everyone will know!’

  He stood up and turned to face her, still fingering the blade. She realized sickly that only half of him wanted to spare her; the other half was excited by the thought of the knife. And as she watched him, the decision crystallized in his eyes, and she knew that she’d lost.

  If she hurled herself sideways, dashed for the bathroom? With glazed eyes she watched him raise his arm. And a voice from the doorway said incredulously, ‘What the bloody hell’s going on?’

  ‘Roger!’

  As the cry broke from her, Miles spun round, and in the same second Jan darted towards him, knocked the knife out of his hand and kicked it under the bed. Then, as Miles still stood in shock, Roger’s fist made contact with his jaw and he fell heavily to the floor. Without thought, Jan hurled herself into her husband’s arms.

  It was only when the children had been found in Miles’s garage, gagged and bound but otherwise unharmed, that Jan questioned Roger about his opportune arrival.

  ‘Mother phoned and told me what was happening.’ he explained. ‘There was a business trip in the offing, so I brought it forward and flew straight over. By the way, I collected these from the house.’ He felt in his pocket and handed her a pile of letters. The one on top was from the Broadminster solicitors.

  Seeing her face, his voice sharpened. ‘What is it, Jan?’

  She shook her head wordlessly. Now that the danger was past, she was no longer at her ease with him. Too much lay between them. She knew she owed him some explanation for the need to save her life, but she was too exhausted, too emotionally buffeted, to embark on it.

  Roger didn’t press for an answer. Instead, he said quietly, ‘I’m taking you and the children straight to my parents. You need to get away from this place. Don’t worry,’ he added, seeing her movement of protest, ‘I shan’t be there myself. I really have business to attend to, and I’ll be based in London with my colleagues.’

  Jan said awkwardly, ‘It’s not only that. I do want to see your parents, of course, but not just yet. I can’t possibly leave Lady Peel till Rowena gets back.’

  ‘Why ever not?” He sounded impatient, suspecting an excuse.

  ‘Roger, she’s devoted to Miles. He’s like a son to her. And – well, certain facts are going to come to light about Sir Reginald, which won’t be easy for her, either.’

  ‘I can’t pretend to understand all this. I just go cold. wondering what’d have happened if I hadn’t turned up when I did.’

  ‘I know.’ She looked up at him. ‘Surely your mother told you we were staying here? Why did you go to Rylands?’

  He shrugged. ‘You might have moved back. I decided to try there first, and luckily the door was on the latch.’

  As she’d left it for the children. Jan shuddered, remembering her terror for them. They’d recovered more quickly than she had. Excitement and a sense of importance had quickly banished their fear, and they were at the moment working their way through a large lunch, watched over solicitously by Edith.

  Lady Peel was up in her room. Jan had told her as gently as she could about Miles, and the old lady made little comment, ‘I’ll stay here quietly for a while,’ she said, ‘and give you a chance to talk to your husband. But when the police arrive, I’ll come down to see them.’

  It wasn’t till Jan had left her that she realized Lady Peel was probably aware that they’d separated.

  Roger, who’d been watching the expressions on her face, broke into her thoughts. ‘We’ve the hell of a lot of talking to do.’

  Jan closed her eyes wearily. Not now, she thought, please not now. And as if in answer, the doorbell rang through the house. The police had arrived.

  In Webb’s absence, it was Chief Inspector Horn, accompanied by WDS Lucas, who came to Cajabamba. Jan was glad that at least the woman detective was known to her. The Chief Inspector looked forbidding, with a hooked nose and shaggy dark hair, but he was a kindly man, and gentle with them.

  Jan braced herself to repeat Miles’s involved story. If he denied what he’d told her, the burden of accusation would rest on her. But to some extent, Horn forestalled her.

  ‘We were on our way to Mr Cody when the call came through,’ he told them. ‘We’d tried to contact him without success all day yesterday.’

  As had Jan herself. ‘You mean you knew it was him?’

  ‘We had a strong suspicion, yes, but the real break came this morning with a phone call from a Mr Plaidy, who’s an art historian. He’s just back from two weeks in Italy, and only learned of Marriott’s death on his return. It was a considerable shock, because it was he who’d asked Marriott to investigate Mr Cody.’

  ‘Investigate?’ Lady Peel said sharply.

  ‘Only as a journalist, ma’am. It seems he’d recognized some prints which appeared under Mr Cody’s name – he’d seen them as a boy, in one of the Stately Homes. But he’d no proof of forgery, so, since he knew Marriott slightly, he asked him to look into it. And thereby sent him to his death.’

  Jan drew a deep breath. At least hers wasn’t the only testimony.

  ‘So your colleagues needn’t have gone to Peru after all.’ Lady Peel was sitting up very straight, and Jan wondered at her composure. But there was still another blow in store for her. Gently, the Chief Inspector, who had read Laurence Cody’s letter, prepared her for it.

  ‘It wasn’t a wasted journey, ma’am. Perhaps you’re forgetting the sequins and the bandage.’

  The old lady stared at him, and her face paled. ‘The third expedition?’

  ‘Exactly. When the police arrived after Mr Coverdale’s call, they found valuable items concealed behind the wardrobe.’

  The old eyes found Jan’s. ‘The Punchao and necklace?’

  She nodded. ‘T
hey didn’t steal them,’ she said quickly, ‘there’s a perfectly good explanation. I’ll show you my father’s letter. Roger brought it from home.’

  ‘But I don’t understand. How did this concern Mr Marriott?’

  ‘I’d like to know that myself,’ Horn admitted wryly. ‘Perhaps Mrs Coverdale can explain?’

  Reluctantly, Jan did so: Miles’s visit to the sick-room, his row with Edward and Rowena, the childish vindictiveness of the guy. Finally, his voice still echoing in her ears, she told of the association of ideas which led to his dressing Marriott’s body in the discarded dummy’s clothes.

  There was a long silence when she’d finished. Then Horn said softly, ‘So that’s it. No wonder it had us foxed: we’d two separate crimes on our hands, with entirely different motives. All along we’d assumed Marriott’s death was directly linked with the bandage, sequins and wallet, whereas they were merely props which happened to be on hand.’

  Jan, who’d been anxiously watching Lady Peel, saw the old lady sway and, slipping to the ground beside her, she took hold of her hands.

  ‘You do understand?’ she asked gently. ‘They only did what they had to. It nearly destroyed them.’

  The glazed eyes came down to her face. ‘Reggie and the others? Yes, I see that. But Miles – I feel responsible for him. He was put in my charge.’

  ‘His mother was unbalanced,’ Jan said, ‘and Miles was flawed, too. You mustn’t blame yourself; there was nothing you could have done.’

  It was three weeks later. As the plane rose higher, the tiny figures of Edward and Rowena grew indistinguishable, lost in the vastness of the city spread below.

  Jan leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the events of those last weeks drift through her mind. As promised, she had stayed at Cajabamba till Edward and Rowena returned from Peru, when the whole story had to be gone through again. She’d noticed a new gentleness in Rowena’s attitude to her mother. Perhaps now Miles was no longer between them, they’d come closer together.

  As for the treasure, it would soon be on its way to Peru. Jan hoped Quispe Tupac would have understood, realized that, in the museum, his own people would have a chance to see it.