‘Not yet fifty?’ I said. ‘I’m not even forty-five! But she is right. Look at your mother, after all. She was the most sunny-natured person and she looked like a girl until the day she died.’
Mallory nodded and her expression grew a little more grave. ‘I keep forgetting she is dead,’ she said.
‘And there are still so many questions,’ I went on. ‘Where did the tramp go after the foul deed? Will he strike again? Has he struck again?’
Mallory said nothing.
‘Not to mention why she was out there in the middle of the night for him to strike in the first place,’ Alec added.
Mallory looked up at that. ‘Why do you say “the middle of the night”?’
Alec frowned at her as if puzzled. ‘The house was full, wasn’t it?’ he said. ‘You and your sister. Her husband. Your father. The Tibballs. The servants. I suppose I just assumed that getting three items of luggage out without being seen must have been done after everyone went to bed.’
‘Besides,’ I added, ‘we know she was dead by the next morning, under the untrammelled snow. And we know she was alive the previous evening, giving messages about dining in her room, cancelling church and ordering breakfast.’
‘She always just left a note in the kitchen if she was having a bad night,’ Mallory said, ‘and that way Mrs McReadie knew to take up a tray.’
‘So that’s breakfast,’ I said. ‘What about the rest of it? When did you last actually speak to her?’
‘She and Cherry and I all went upstairs together. We had just found out Cherry’s happy news, if you remember, and we went up together to sit and enjoy it for a while, work out dates and that sort of thing. Talk about names. Mummy wanted to look at old photographs of us when we were babies, but that was going a bit far. We were both as fat as butterballs and the fashions of the day didn’t help. Of course, now I wish we had stayed with her and studied every last snap and lock of hair. But we didn’t know it was our last chance, did we?’
‘In the midst of life,’ I said, cringing a little to be such a ghoul. ‘So you’re saying it was then – while you and Cherry were in your mother’s room talking about the happy news – that she decided not to go to church after all and not to come down to dinner? It was you who announced that we should go in to dinner without her, I suppose.’
‘It wasn’t me who decided not to go to church,’ Mallory said.
‘Who was it?’ I asked her.
But she did not answer. She stopped and walked over to the edge of the road, to the sea wall, and stood looking out over the bay with her hair streaming back in the stiff breeze and her thin dress blowing out behind in a bell shape. She was a very pretty girl, when one saw her out from her mother’s shadow.
‘Mallory?’ I said, going over to stand beside her. ‘Who cancelled the expedition to the church? Do you know?’
‘Why must you ask all these questions?’ she cried. ‘Nothing will bring her back. What’s the point of making it worse?’
‘We are trying to make it better,’ I said. ‘I am rather older than you, my dear, and have seen more of life. It helps, when something unjust is done, to bring the culprit to book and have justice restored. It really does help. Simply covering up the mess isn’t the same.’
‘Or wheeling it away,’ said Alec. ‘That’s not much good either.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ said Mallory sharply. ‘Wheeling it away? What do you mean?’
Alec shrugged. ‘Just an expression.’
But Mallory Dunnoch was made of sterner stuff than I thought. ‘No, it’s not,’ she said. ‘“Brushing it under the carpet” is an expression.’
‘The thing is,’ I said, jumping in to try to cover Alec’s blunder, ‘that if your mother told you – about cancelling church and missing dinner – while you were in her room with the photograph albums, Cherry would have known too. And she didn’t. Did she?’
‘Didn’t she?’ There was a note of strain in Mallory’s voice. She turned away from the sea and leaned against the wall, hugging herself as though cold. ‘Well, I don’t remember every detail after all this time.’
‘I would have thought you’d go over all the details until they were burned into your brain for ever like cattle brands,’ said Alec.
‘What does it matter?’ Mallory said. ‘What difference does it make?’
‘All the difference in the world,’ I said. ‘If we can find out when Lady Love died we have a much better chance of finding out who killed her.’
‘Then down it would all come, crashing on our heads,’ said Mallory. ‘And Mummy would still be dead. A passing tramp killed her. That’s what the police said. And the newspapers said it and Daddy believes it, so I believe it too.’
‘But your father doesn’t believe it at all, my dear,’ I said.
‘Daddy?’ Mallory said. ‘Don’t tell me he thinks it was the kelpie? That’s what the village thinks, you know.’
‘What’s a kelpie?’ Alec said.
I was a little surprised that he had never heard of them, steeped in Scottish lore as he was these days. ‘A sea monster,’ I said. ‘But your mother was not on the shore that night. Was she?’
‘Ah but there’s a kelpie out of the sea at Applecross,’ Mallory said. ‘There’s a deep pool at the base of a dry waterfall, up behind the house. And the legend is that a kelpie lives there, washed inland on Maelrubha’s flood and then stranded when the waters went down again.’
‘I see,’ I said. ‘Well, your father doesn’t suspect a stranded kelpie. No, you see, the thing is he was in the library with the lights out when your mother’s body was discovered. He saw you heading round the house with the wheelbarrow.’
All of Mallory’s breath left her body in a huge rush that left her staggering. ‘He thinks I did it?’ she said, when she could speak again.
‘And wants to protect you,’ I said.
‘But why would I kill Mummy?’
It would not have swayed a jury but I was convinced she was telling the truth.
‘Why would anyone?’ said Alec. ‘Miss Dunnoch, please help us find out what really happened.’
‘I know what happened,’ said Mallory. ‘And I am not going to help you drag it all out into the harsh light of day.’
‘What were you doing with the wheelbarrow?’ I said.
‘I was taking it to fetch my mother’s body,’ said Mallory. ‘And then I was going to go down to the shore and put it in the sea to be carried away. Then Daddy would think she had left and no one would be hanged for killing her.’
‘Why would you do that?’ I said. ‘Why would you protect your mother’s killer?’
‘Because I love my sister,’ Mallory said. ‘And I don’t want to break her heart.’
‘Your sister!’ said Alec. ‘Do you know that for sure?’
But I had seen the true meaning Alec missed. ‘Break her heart,’ I said. ‘Not her neck. You think it was Mitten, don’t you?’
Mallory nodded miserably. ‘Cherry is easily led,’ she said. ‘It was Mitten who saw the figure out on the moor and persuaded Cherry it looked like Daddy. It was Mitten who was ahead of the others when everyone chased the dog. He said it had disappeared but he could have let it out of the garden gate before anyone else got there. And he’s very good with birds. He could have trained a crow to go into the dovecote.’
‘Those are nasty tricks,’ I said, ‘but they are not evidence.’
‘And it was Mitten who said we shouldn’t go to the church that night,’ said Mallory. ‘It was his idea to scotch that plan. He said he was worried about Cherry being out in the snow and ice, in case she slipped or a caught a cold, but Cherry is as strong as an ox. She still is, two months later. She’ll probably be stacking hay the day before the baby is born and again the day after.’
‘But why do you suppose,’ I said, ‘even if you’re right, that it had to be that night? Or the next day? Did things suddenly come to a head in some fashion?’
Mallory shook her head in wonder
and stared at me. ‘Don’t you know?’ she said. ‘Has no one told you? Has Donald not told you? I thought Daddy told Hugh, at least.’
I resisted the urge to shout, ‘Told me what?’ and instead simply shrugged.
‘Mummy was going to be free when she was fifty,’ Mallory said. ‘Free of all the trusts and entails and all the nonsense my grandfather put in place to protect Applecross when he realised that he was never going to have a male heir and it was Mummy or nothing.’
‘Yes, we know,’ I said. ‘At least, we didn’t know there were legal trusts involved, but we knew she was planning to make a few changes. Moving to the Clachan manse with your father, leaving the way clear for Cherry. Why would Mitten mind that?’
‘You seem to have got the story rather garbled,’ Mallory said.
‘No, dear,’ I insisted. ‘Your father told Hugh that Cherry was staying on here and your dowry was going to be in the form of cash. Sorry to be blunt.’
‘And where do you think the cash was coming from?’ Mallory said. ‘Mummy was breaking up the estate.’
‘No!’ I said, proof, were it needed, that some of Hugh has rubbed off on me.
‘But oh yes,’ said Mallory. ‘She and Daddy were going to stay at the manse, the crofts were to be handed over to the crofters, save one for Cherry and one for me—’
‘No wonder old Michael and the rest are grateful!’ I said.
‘—and the house, park and moor were to be sold.’
‘Sold to whom?’ said Alec.
‘There were two interested buyers,’ Mallory said. ‘One lot was monks, which would have been quite fitting in a way. And the other plan was to sell it to His Majesty’s government to open a school. A boarding school. Well, a sort of children’s home, I suppose. For the sort of children who are best kept out of harm’s way.’
‘But that’s an outrage,’ I said. ‘A borstal? Here? And your father and sister camped on the doorstep. Not to mention the villagers, suddenly having to lock their doors and chain up their bicycles.’
‘She hadn’t decided,’ Mallory said. ‘It might have been the monks after all.’
‘But why?’ Alec said. ‘She loved this place. Didn’t she? Even if she was leaving why did she have to rip it up as she went?’
‘She wasn’t leaving,’ Mallory said.
‘That’s right,’ said Alec. ‘You packed her bags, didn’t you?’
‘No,’ said Mallory. ‘No, as it happens, I didn’t. No, Mummy was planning to stay at the manse with Daddy. In the only bit of Applecross that was still a sanctuary. A’ Chomraich.’
‘After the rivers moved out of their paths,’ I said. ‘Yes, we know. Someone thought she was leaving though. Someone put dolls in the flower-room drawers to bind your parents to the place.’
Mallory gasped. ‘That’s dreadful. Someone tried to stop Mummy from getting to her sanctuary?’
‘And your father,’ I reminded her.
‘Daddy’s in no danger,’ said Mallory.
‘But getting back to the bags,’ said Alec. ‘Someone packed them and took them away. A trunk, a jewel case, a dressing case and her garden journal.’
‘Her garden journal?’ Mallory boggled at that.
‘Yes, we wondered about that too,’ Alec said. ‘Did she keep strictly to gardening in the pages of those volumes?’
‘No,’ said Mallory. ‘No, she tended to note events of particular significance, whether horticultural or not. Her war journals are remarkable.’
‘So, presumably,’ I said, ‘her killer packed them and hid them somewhere. Mitten, if you’re to be believed. Do you have any evidence or just a hunch about motive?’
‘Motive?’ said Mallory. ‘There’s certainly that. All those thousands of acres, the house, the manse, the cottages, hundreds of crofts. I don’t think he married Cherry for it. I think he loves her. But he did expect it.’ She smiled at me. ‘Not everyone is as lucky as I am. I know Donald was happy to plight his troth before he’d heard a thing about any dowry.’
I forbore to mention various things at that point. I forbore to mention the fact that her father wanted the union dissolved. He might change his mind if he could be persuaded that the guilty party was a son-in-law and not his own daughter, but equally he might decide he did not want to contract alliances with the cloud hanging over any part of his family at all.
‘I have to say, I’m surprised by your take on all of this, Mallory,’ I told her. ‘Cherry is young and could have a long happy life with a much nicer chap if you were to ring up the police and tell them what you know. Your father would have peace of mind and justice would be done.’
‘Hear hear, Dandy,’ Alec said. ‘Frankly, I’m astonished that you are standing by while some gold-digging brother-in-law plans and carries out such a scheme. Why shouldn’t he hang for it? What if he kills again? What if Cherry displeases him, or if this baby that’s on its way turns out to be disappointing?’
Mallory had stopped leaning against the wall. She had, in fact, shot upright and was standing practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, waving her hands to make Alec stop talking.
‘No!’ she said. ‘You’ve got it completely wrong. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t a scheme. Mitten didn’t know what Mummy had in mind until she told him on the eve of her birthday. That’s what I think. I think she told him and he flew into a rage and lashed out.’
‘With a shovel,’ said Alec.
‘Peat-cutter but yes,’ said Mallory. ‘It’s horrible. But if you were told that your life was to be pulled down around your ears and you happened to be carrying a peat-cutter at the time …’
‘I would not lunge at a defenceless woman with it,’ Alec said.
‘Do you have any actual proof that this attack happened?’ I said.
‘Of course!’ said Mallory. ‘Good grief, of course I do. I saw him about five minutes after it happened. I saw him washing the blood from his hands.’
Alec and I stood in stunned silence at her words. ‘Wh-When was this?’ Alec said.
‘Much earlier than you thought,’ said Mallory. ‘When Cherry and I left Mummy in her room, she said she was going to pop down and check that no harm had come to the apple crosses during the great chase. And about half an hour later, I went down to the flower room.’
‘Why?’
‘Because that’s where we keep the gumboots and oilskins. It’s the nearest door to the church path. I wanted to secure a good mackintosh for the trudge. Cherry has a habit of bagging all the best clobber.’
And what did you find?’ I said.
‘Mitten was in there. I half-opened the door and saw him washing his hands in the sink. The water was bright red. And he was crying and muttering.’
‘Muttering what?’ I said.
‘“She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead.” He was scrubbing at his hands so hard I thought he would take the skin off them. And so I asked, “Who is dead?” I knew it wasn’t Cherry because I had heard her singing in the bathroom as I passed. I wondered if it was an animal. Or rather I hoped it was an animal.
‘Anyway, when I disturbed him he came out into the passageway and put his arms round me. I asked him gently who was dead and he told me. He spoke in a great rush of words. “Your mother. My darling Cherry’s beloved mother. Did you know she was going to sell up from under us? Did she tell you? She was going to shut down the whole show after all the those years. Is that why you’re leaving for somewhere you can be sure of?” Then he said: “I’m sorry, Mallory. I’m so very sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” And so I decided to pack her bags and make everyone think she had left us.’
‘But you just said you didn’t pa—’ Alec began.
‘That’s right. When I went to her room to start, I saw that someone had got there before me. Her writing case and jewel case were already gone. And quite a lot of her clothes too.’
I was speechless. The three of us were rooted to the path just staring at one another, when a voice hallooed from the distance. Mrs McReadie had come down
the drive to the Applecross House gateway and had her hands on her hips in that unmistakable posture of feminine outrage.
‘Miss Mallory!’ she bellowed. ‘Your dinner is on the table and getting cold! You!’ – she jabbed a finger that I guessed was aimed at either Alec or me – ‘were supposed to be fetching her! What are you doing? Grease horse!’ I took that to be Gaelic. ‘Get a move on.’
14
‘What are we doing, Dan?’ Alec said when Mallory had scuttled off, leaving us staring at her back. ‘We have no client here. This is not a case. The body is buried and the family is recovering. If you want my opinion, we should take Donald by the scruff of his neck and get out before we turn over another stone and find another seething nest of white maggots.’
‘What a delightful phrase,’ I said. ‘And just in time for luncheon.’
Neither Cherry not Mitten were present in the dining room when we arrived a few minutes later. Lord Ross sat withdrawn and austere at the head, Mallory pale and quiet at the foot. Hugh was still glowering. Donald and Teddy were marooned together on one side looking very much as though they wished the earth would open and swallow them. David Spencer on the other side was watching the company with short flicking glances, as though wondering what on earth had caused such an unspeakable atmosphere: crackles like an approaching thunderstorm and waves of misery emanating from all around and meeting to hover above the table in a sickening cloud.
Dickie and Biddy Tibball alone seemed unperturbed. They were engaged in a long story about their engagement party, but Biddy broke off to welcome us, actually standing up and flapping a napkin to shoo me into the seat where she wanted me. I glanced at Mallory to see what she made of the woman assuming a hostess’s bearing, but that young woman was concentrating fiercely on shaking pepper into her soup.
‘Don’t worry that you’re a tiny moment late,’ said Biddy. ‘Mrs McReadie sends out the soup so hot we’ve all got time for a stroll round the garden before it’s safe to sip.’
A Step So Grave Page 16