False Wall

by Veronica Heley

  Lady Payne was silent. Somewhere along the line, Bea had guessed correctly.

  Bea went on, ‘Lady Payne hoped against hope that the identity of the corpse might never come to light but, if it did, she needed a scapegoat – and as you have just observed, she has decided to lay the blame at your door. With regard to her own future, she devised a plan to entrap Leon and hold his reputation hostage. He would pay well, she thought, to keep his good name untarnished. But yet another minor problem arose. Lady Payne discovered that I, Mrs Abbot, was not only Sir Leon’s very good friend, but that I had a reputation for unravelling mysteries. She sought to enlarge her original plan to include me … Which, if I may say so, was a major mistake.’

  Bea continued, ‘Lady Payne, I must give you credit for quick thinking. You arranged a drinks party on the cheap and at short notice. You involved your husband, who had his own scheme running to destroy Leon’s reputation. He got someone to inform the press that Leon had attacked an under-age girl. This rumour was supposed to wreck an important deal in the Far East, for which he would claim a reward through his contacts in the world of finance. But the report was phoned in before we arrived at the party, and Leon managed to rescue the deal.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean!’

  ‘Oh, I think you do. At this very moment there’s an expert at work tracing the Admiral’s contacts and they reveal an interesting background to his attempts at extortion and blackmail.’

  Lady Payne blustered, ‘My husband didn’t do anything, and you can’t prove that he did.’

  ‘No, I can’t. But my friend Oliver has uncovered the link between him and another director, who favoured the underbidder for the Far Eastern contract. Who will, presumably, not be best pleased that your husband’s little scam has failed. To return to the party. You, Mona, were encouraged to be out that evening. Sir Leon and myself were invited. Lady Payne’s scheme was to entrap, compromise and thereupon neutralize us. For this scheme she needed the services of a pretty young girl and some hefty young men – and there were the youngsters, delighted to be involved, especially if money were to be channelled their way. Sir Leon and I were given knockout drugs in our drinks, and arranged in compromising positions in order to be photographed. Venetia scratched Leon’s cheek to get his DNA under her fingernails. When she’d done that, she cut her fingernails short, and placed the evidence in an envelope. And that, Lady Payne, you thought would be sufficient to stop Leon ever moving against you; would stop me becoming involved, and would force Leon to pay you a pension to ensure a more than comfortable retirement.’

  ‘No!’ Mona, wide-eyed.

  Bea continued, ‘Chance intervened. While I was lying in that chair over there, aware that I’d been drugged and that gin had been thrown all over me, with my skirts up and my legs sprawling, I could still hear what was going on, though I couldn’t move. The lights blew. A fuse. The circuit had been overloaded. Probably if less had been spent on the family and more on the house, the fuse wouldn’t have blown, and the scheme wouldn’t have failed. But fail it did.

  ‘Lady Payne tried to get the youngsters to help her search for a replacement fuse, but this was where they took the initi-ative. The young men had possession of my house keys, which gave them the idea of doing me an extra bit of no good. They set my house on fire. It didn’t take them long. But, by the time they’d returned to help Lady Payne, both Leon and I had managed to escape and eventually we got ourselves to hospital. Fortunately the drug used was not fatal. I recovered more quickly than Sir Leon and returned to retrieve those belongings of ours which had been misappropriated. Rollo did return some of our belongings, but that all-important envelope remained here.’

  ‘Now do you understand what you’ve done!’ cried Lady Payne, aiming another kick at Rollo. ‘If we’d still got that envelope, we could have got Leon to pay through the nose for its return! Words fail me.’

  ‘I wish they did,’ said Bea. ‘Unfortunately, you’ve got one more card to play, and it’s an exceedingly nasty one. Your sister has kept you and your expensive family afloat for years, and how do you repay her? You accuse her of murder.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ said Edith, pulling herself together. ‘It hurts me to say so, but it’s true. Mona killed her husband. She told me all about it, after it happened; how he turned up again one weekend when we were all away and, well, I’m sure she didn’t mean to kill him, but there was a tussle, he fell and hit the back of his head and died. She panicked. She was too scared of the police to admit what had happened. She couldn’t bury him in our garden here because the children were all over it all the time. So it was easy enough for her to put her husband’s body into a wheelbarrow, take him through the gate in the wall into Penelope’s garden and bury him under the ivy. Then she trumped up the story about it being too dangerous for the children to go next door, and had the door bricked up.

  ‘Mona confessed it all to me when we got back to London. I couldn’t bear the thought of my sister going to jail. It was very wrong of me, I know, but I allowed her to persuade me not to go to the police. She begged me to help her cover up what she’d done by getting my husband to set up a remittance for Magnus, who’d supposedly gone to live in the Caribbean.’

  ‘Which remittance you cashed yourself?’

  ‘Naturally. After a few years we decided it was best to let him die abroad, because we had friends who were going there on holiday and they were talking about looking the man up for old times’ sake. And that’s it, really.’

  Bea studied Edith and then looked at Mona, who was staring ahead, motionless. Mona had known this was coming.

  Rollo, however, hadn’t known. ‘That’s mean, Gran! And I d-don’t believe any of it!’

  Lady Payne spat at him. ‘Shut up, you! If it hadn’t been for you … but, as it is, I don’t suppose Mona will get more than a few years for manslaughter. They don’t hang murderers nowadays and she’s old and frail. We’ll take care of this house and her money while she’s inside, so it shouldn’t make any difference to our lives.’

  Rollo put his hand on Mona’s arm. ‘It’s not true, is it? Tell me it’s not true.’

  Mona looked straight at him. She was smiling. ‘If the police believe her, what will you do?’

  Rollo blinked. ‘I don’t understand.’

  Bea did. Mona was playing for Rollo’s soul. Would she win, or would the boy fall into line under his grandmother’s spell? Would he let Mona go to jail in order to ensure that his comfortable life continued as before?

  His features convulsed. Was he going to cry? He took his hand off his great-aunt and rubbed his forehead. Looked down at the floor. Yes, he was definitely going to cry.

  ‘That’s my boy,’ said Lady Payne, contempt in her voice. ‘You know which side your bread’s buttered, don’t you?’

  Rollo’s face straightened out. Some of his immaturity leached away, leaving him looking older and, strangely, more like his grandmother. He got to his feet, his limbs stiff, but obeying him. ‘Auntie Mona, I don’t believe you did it. You couldn’t. It’s against everything you’ve taught me. I think,’ he gulped, ‘that yes, perhaps there was an accident, and he died. But I don’t think you’d have covered it up. You’re so brave, always trying to do the right thing. So,’ another gulp, ‘if it wasn’t you, then it was someone else.’

  ‘Listen to him!’ said Edith, contempt in every line of her. ‘That’s what a good education does for you! It teaches you to reason!’

  ‘Yes, it does, Granny,’ said Rollo, trying to stand straight and not slouch. ‘It tells me to remember all the nasty things you’ve ever said and done. You’ve never thought me of any use; you’ve slagged me off whenever you’ve seen me; you’ve said a hundred times you only let me stay with you for the holidays because my dad and my mum had to work. I’ve tried to keep out of your way, and in return … No, I’m not making excuses. I spied on you.’

  He clenched his fists and stood tall. ‘I knew I was being sneaky, looking at stuff which was none of m
y business and listening to your phone calls, and I knew it was wrong not to tell. I ought to have blown the whistle, but I didn’t because I knew how much trouble I’d be in, with you, if I did. You’ve cheated Auntie Mona hundreds of times over the years. Yes, she paid the face value of the bills for your holidays and your cars, and subscriptions to this and that, but you’d always negotiated yourself a commission, hadn’t you? You even managed to get a commission for paying off Gideon’s gambling debts by inflating the total. As for Venetia, you knew very well she was drunk as a skunk when she borrowed those cars and smashed them, not once but twice! And you encouraged her to sleep with—’

  Edith slapped him, hard.

  He put his hand halfway to his face, then took it down again. Bea could see he was shaking, but it didn’t stop him talking. ‘Hit me all you like. This is the truth. My “good education” makes me remember all the kindnesses and self-sacrifices that Auntie Mona has made for us. How she’s taught me to respect the truth, and to respect her. She didn’t kill that man; you did. I hope it was an accident, but whatever happened, covering it up would be just your line. And getting Auntie Mona to fork out for a remittance for him after he was dead, and even paying for his funeral? That was just all going into your own bank account, wasn’t it?’

  Bea risked a glance at Mona, who seemed to be smiling. Was Mona encouraging the only other member of her family who had the guts to stand up to Edith?

  Rollo told Mona. ‘If Granny arranges things so that you have to go to prison instead of her, I think you should sell this house and put the money in a trust or something so that none of us can get at it. I’ll go to a state school. If I work hard enough, I can get a bursary to university, or get an apprenticeship or whatever. I’ll come to see you whenever they let me and … I want to say how sorry I am that I didn’t come clean before. I just wasn’t brave enough to say anything. Forgive me?’

  ‘Yes, Rollo. Of course I do.’ Mona looked at her watch, and sighed. ‘Well, it seems a pity to have to drag the police out on a Sunday night, but we’d best get it over with. Edith, all bets are off. I knew you used to inflate the bills. I understood it, in a way, because your husband was never going to be a good provider, was he? But after we had a little talk about it, you did promise me you’d stop and I believed you … which was foolish of me, wasn’t it? I hoped against hope that if I kept the family together, the children would grow up to be decent members of society, and on the whole they have. Malcolm has definitely made good. Hugo and his wife are at least supporting themselves after a fashion, even if they’ve handed over responsibility for their children to you. But the grandchildren, with the exception of Rollo, have always chosen your way of life rather than mine. I told myself that everyone deserves a second chance, but Gideon and Grey and Venetia seem to think that whatever I’ve said, someone will always bail them out. I’ve warned you several times that they are out of control, but you didn’t want to listen. And now you’ve made them accessory to murder.’

  ‘What! No, I—’

  ‘Yes, that’s exactly what you’ve done. Not to mention their thieving, and their taking part in the scheme to destroy Sir Leon’s reputation. I also believe they fire-bombed Mrs Abbot’s house. So now they are going to have to take responsibility for their actions. Mrs Abbot, do you wish to stay to see the last act of this little drama, or would you rather retire?’

  With a howl of fury Edith stooped to pick up the heavy crystal vase on the coffee table and threw it at Mona’s head.

  Rollo shrieked …

  … and threw himself at Mona, who ducked but not quickly enough …

  … Rollo managed to get between them …

  … Bea yelled …

  … Rollo fell on top of Mona on to the floor …

  … in a tangle …

  Blood spread out from under Rollo’s head …

  Bea struggled up out of her chair as …

  … Hari leaped into the room, mobile to his ear …

  ‘Ambulance!’

  Mona didn’t move, lying still under Rollo’s sprawling figure.

  Rollo’s eyes were shut.

  Was he dead? Oh, surely not!

  Hari spoke into his phone, giving the address.

  Bea saw that Rollo was trying to move, his eyelids flickering, blood running down his forehead on to Mona, lying beneath him.

  Bea tried to help him up.

  Failed.

  In any case, wasn’t it better not to move him? Suppose he’d been mortally hurt?

  Mona, beneath him, was also trying to move.

  One-handed and still talking on the phone, Hari helped Bea to pull Rollo off Mona and on to the carpet beside her. Bea knelt beside Mona, who seemed to be unharmed, but had had all the puff driven out of her. Mona tried to get her breath. She was breathing hard, as if she had asthma.

  Bea helped her to sit, so that she could breathe more easily. Her colour improved. She opened her eyes and nodded to Bea, trying to say ‘thank you’.

  Hari was kneeling beside Rollo. ‘Don’t try to move. Keep still. Absolutely still. The ambulance is on its way.’

  Rollo’s eyelids flickered. He relaxed, muscle by muscle. He’d shot his bolt.

  He wasn’t dead, anyway, though that head wound …

  The flowers that had been in the vase had ended up around him. The water, too.

  Mona tried to speak. Moved her limbs feebly.

  Bea bent down to her, repeating Hari’s words. ‘Don’t move. The ambulance is on its way.’

  Mona’s eyes switched to Rollo. She mouthed, ‘Is he all right?’

  Bea nodded, though she wasn’t at all sure that the boy was all right. That vase had hit his head with a clunk she’d replay in her next nightmare.

  Mona struggled to stand. Bea helped her. Mona didn’t seem hurt. Just temporarily winded. Mona looked around. ‘Edith?’

  No Edith.

  Edith had gone. Scarpered. Made herself scarce.

  Rollo opened his eyes, sent them round the room. Closed his eyes again. Began to laugh. He said, ‘Gotcha!’

  Hari and Bea looked at one another, bemused.

  Mona wasn’t. She said, in a tired little voice, ‘Rollo is going to get Edith arrested for assault. That way, she can’t get away with at least one of the bad things she’s done. Not this time, at least.’

  SEVENTEEN

  Sunday night

  Three o’clock in the morning. Or was it four?

  Bea felt dizzy with fatigue. She looked at the clock on the wall and couldn’t make sense of what it was trying to tell her.

  What time was it that she had trodden through the wreckage of her garden and across the barren space of the Admiral’s house – or, rather, the house belonging to Mona Barwell? – in order to talk to that elderly lady?

  It had been dusk then.

  Mona had told the truth and Edith had accused Mona … Rollo had come to her rescue … and Edith had gone in for fisticuffs …

  … which was why Mona and Bea now sat in the Accident and Emergency department of the hospital waiting for Rollo to be attended to.

  Hari had taken them to the hospital and left them there, as it was obvious it would be some time before Rollo could be dealt with. Rollo, after all, was only one among many victims of weekend fights, shootings, drug overdoses.

  Policemen hovered, trying to get reports from the injured people who littered the waiting room for the Accident and Emergency department. They asked a tired Rollo, sinking now and then into sleep, how he’d come by his injury.

  ‘My gran threw a vase at my great-aunt and I got in the way.’ Which was the truth and nothing but the truth, but didn’t give any of the interesting background to the case.

  The policemen asked Bea and Mona if they could confirm this. Both nodded. Bea could see the police were going to class this non-event as ‘domestic abuse’, and wouldn’t take the matter further unless they made a fuss, which they were not going to do at that time of night and in their state of fatigue. The policemen took th
eir names and addresses and said they should report to the nearest station in the morning. Bea and Mona nodded, and went back to quietly worrying about Rollo, who kept dropping asleep on Mona’s shoulder.

  Eventually Rollo was processed, and X-rayed. The doctor said his brain didn’t appear to have been affected, and there should be no permanent damage. However, they wanted to keep him in overnight because he had definitely been concussed and they wanted to be sure his condition didn’t deteriorate.

  Mona and Bea sat beside the boy while his head was stitched up, or rather, stapled. Bea thought Rollo’s face was a fine advertisement for a rainbow, as the colour of his skin ranged from a livid yellow bruise on his cheek, fading to a nasty greenish-white around his mouth. There was black and purple in plenty around one closed eye, while a neat scarlet line showed where the gaping wound on his temple had been dealt with. All that was missing was some blue. Would his one open eye represent the missing blue?

  Rollo tried to smile at them as he was wheeled off to bed. ‘All hunky-dory, no permanent damage, but it’s just as well they’re not discharging me tonight because I can’t see straight or work out what day of the week it is. Is it day or is it night?’

  Mona sniffed and blew her nose. Bea put her arm around Mona and summoned Hari on her mobile to collect them. By the time he arrived, Mona had fallen asleep.

  Bea woke her up, steered her into the back of Hari’s car, and fitted the seatbelt around her … whereupon Mona leant back with a sigh, and proceeded to fall asleep again.

  Bea got in the front with Hari. She kept her voice down. ‘All quiet on the home front?’

  ‘I went back and rescued the vase Edith thumped him with. I put it in a safe place to preserve any fingerprints that might be on it. The room is just as we’d left it. The house was empty.’