by Anne Morice
‘In that case, why offer to take it to the bank?’ Robin asked.
‘Probably to give herself extra leeway. I’m guessing now, but she may have needed time to get away before the alarm was raised. She’d already put it about that her driving instructor often let the lessons run on a bit and, if she had to call at the bank as well, it would have given her at least a couple of hours’ start. She was a naughty girl all right, but not an evil one.’
‘And what about all that money she had stashed away under a false name? You don’t pretend she came by that honestly?’
‘Oh yes, I do. We know that part of it was a bribe from Jamie and no doubt some had been handed out by Elfrieda, for clothes and so on. The rest was provided by the young man she was in love with. In that sense, it was a joint account. She told several people that she was saving up to get married and it was true. When she first disappeared it was to spend the weekend with him and work out their plans. Why they didn’t get married then I’ll never know, but perhaps she wanted to tell Elfrieda about it and if possible get her approval before she took the plunge. Anyway, she must have been on her way back to meet him in London again when Viola picked her up at the roundabout and I’m sure she believed she would be a married lady before the week was out.’
‘And what about this charming young man? Is he in trouble?’
‘Not in the legal sense, because he’s done nothing criminal and, as you know, he’s going to marry someone else in a week’s time. Having met her, I’d say, he was going to be in another sort of trouble, however.’
‘How did he and Melanie meet in the first place?’
‘Don’t you remember? The first place was in his own home, nearly five years ago, when she was fourteen and big for her age, I shouldn’t wonder. Charlie was a few years older and Melanie went there for the second of her trial visits. She wasn’t particularly welcome, but Elfrieda talked them into it and I suppose Douglas was willing to do her a small favour for old times’ sake. Unfortunately, it all turned out disastrously and Melanie was packed off back to Mrs Bracegirdle, ostensibly for stealing, although of course that wasn’t the reason at all. I’ve learnt enough about her, in my researches, to find that sort of ingratitude quite out of character.’
‘What was the reason, then?’
‘Charlie seduced her, I haven’t a doubt of it. He’s a chip off the old block and Simon told me that he’d already been expelled from school for the same sort of prank. Presumably, his mother discovered what was going on and had Melanie out of there in a matter of hours. However, she wasn’t going to let her darling boy’s reputation be smirched, so she trumped up the story of the theft. I don’t know whether the baby that was born after she ran away from the Home was Charlie’s or not, but it would never surprise me, and I daresay Elfrieda may have had misgivings about it too, which could account for her taking Melanie under her wing in the first place. Furthermore, I wouldn’t mind betting that Melanie’s main reason for picking on Elfrieda and the Rotunda was in the hope of getting in touch with Charlie, which is exactly what happened, and as soon as they set eyes on each other, it all started up again. He was already engaged to Marcia by then, but Viola told me that it had been broken off for a time and then patched up again.’
‘Poor old Viola,’ Toby said, sounding genuinely sad about it. ‘Couldn’t you have let her off? Just this once, I mean? I am sure she would never have done such a thing again.’
Robin looked rather shocked by this and I said:
‘I am sure everyone at the Rotunda wanted to ask the same question and I confess that I might have kept out of it, if I had known from the start where it would end. I was led astray partly by Jamie’s assertion that Melanie’s death coming after Elfrieda’s put all of them in the clear. They all had motives of a kind for wanting her out of the way while Elfrieda was alive, but after her death there was absolutely no incentive whatever. She appeared then to be stripped of all her power, but it wasn’t entirely true because what Jamie didn’t know was that Elfrieda had not died from purely natural causes.’
‘So you were right, after all?’ Toby said. ‘And how restrained of you not to sound smug!’
‘Oh, I knew I could depend on you to tell me that I told you so. Besides, just feeling it in my bones didn’t get me very far. I was still stuck with the fact that, on the face of it, the last thing any of our lot wanted was for Elfrieda to leave the scene, so at that point Douglas went swooping up to the top of my list. He at least had a nice, straight-forward motive: to get his hands on her money before it was all whittled away.’
‘And for Melanie?’
‘Money once again. To ensure that his son married the rich girl, instead of the poor one. It seemed a fairly satisfactory answer until Viola gave the real game away.’
‘How?’
‘First by insisting that it was inconceivable that anyone at the Rotunda could have reported to the police that they’d seen Melanie get into her car at the roundabout. She would have it that someone had noticed her leaving the London flat. When I pointed out how unlikely it was that this unknown witness would have waited for almost three weeks, she still refused to consider any alternative and launched into that little sermon about the wonderful Three Musketeers spirit they all had.’
‘Which did exist, though, did it not?’
‘For many of them, Jill in particular, and Len too; but not quite in the same way for Viola. She’d been around too long to be starry eyed about it. In fact, she must have guessed that as soon as Elfrieda died the good old team spirit would begin to crumble away. So, on the assumption that she was trying to deceive either herself or me, I looked at the question from the other side and immediately got a totally different answer.’
‘You are always making cryptic remarks like that,* Toby complained, ‘and I am sure it is done to keep us on our toes, though without much success, in my case. What was this question?’
‘Can it be,’ Robin asked thoughtfully, ‘that Melanie never went to her flat at all?’
‘Right first go! Every single word she told me about what happened after she stopped at the roundabout was a farrago. She got badly tangled up once or twice, but it wasn’t such a bad circumstantial account, considering that she more or less had to make it up as she went along, but she was rotten on details.’
‘I didn’t notice many lapses in that respect,’ Toby said. ‘She even told you to the minute how long each of them spent in the bathroom.’
‘I know, but she also said that the journey took almost six hours instead of the usual four and a half. That was to bolster up her alibi, of course, but she was careless about it and one reason she gave for the delay was that because of the heatwave there were enormous traffic jams. All nonsense, you know. The heavy traffic would have been on the other carriageway, coming out of London, not going in. And when I asked her what they’d talked about during all that time she couldn’t come up with a single topic. She tried to get around that by saying Melanie had spent most of the time asleep, but I ask you? Between five and ten in the evening when, if there was one thing that girl was noted for, it was her tremendous vitality. The truth is that Viola detested her, never bothered to observe or listen to her and so couldn’t trust herself to invent any authentic sounding dialogue.’
‘And did you find out what really happened after they met at the roundabout?’ Robin asked.
‘Well, that’s the sad and horrifying part about it, because nothing at that point was premeditated. She had no harmful intentions and her simple object was to speed Melanie on her way. However, when they’d driven a few miles it struck her that she’d left something essential behind at the cottage. No doubt, it was the excitement of meeting you two which put it out of her head. Anyway, she remembered and turned back. Still no ulterior motive, you understand, but at some point on this part of the journey Melanie must have said something which turned her heart to stone. Then, when she arrived at the cottage and found our note saying we’d all moved out, I suppose it was like some sort
of message from above, exhorting her to take her courage in both hands and deal with Melanie once and for all. So she opened a bottle of Jamie’s champagne, laced Melanie’s share with a stiff dollop of brandy and, when she’d got her really drunk, coshed her with one of those rocks from the garden. As soon as it was dark enough she pushed her into the car, drove it as near to the edge of the cliff as she dared and shoved her over. After that it was simply a matter of walking down to Rocky Cove and covering the body with all the loose rocks and lumps of chalk she could lay her hands on, before belting off to London. She must have reckoned that weeks could go by before the deed was discovered and so they might have, if it hadn’t been for Toby’s passion for privacy, and if she hadn’t been careless enough to leave that hand uncovered.’
‘How do you know all this?’ Robin asked. ‘Did Viola tell you?’
‘Some of it, when she saw the game was up. Most of it I had already guessed, so I was able to tell her.’
‘You were taking rather a chance, if I may say so,’ Toby remarked. ‘If you had guessed wrong, it would have spelt the end of your friendship; although I daresay it will do that, anyway.’
‘And, since you appear to have based your case mainly on her failure to remember what she and Melanie talked about, it could so easily have turned out badly.’
‘Ah, but you see, Robin, she had already made a far more damaging blunder than that, while she was telling me about her flat tyre. That was when she really tried to embroider and she wasn’t cut out for it’
‘It sounded authentic enough to me, as you repeated it,’ Toby said. ‘I could picture the whole scene unrolling before my eyes.’
‘Then you really can’t have been on your toes, because one of the statements that unrolled was that she had wanted to telephone me to find a garage, but then she remembered that we’d moved to the Green Man. What was wrong about that?’
‘Nothing. It was exactly what we had done.’
‘Oh sure, but Viola couldn’t have known that, could she? It was only decided on after she set out for London. So she must have come back and found our note, and it followed that her story was untrue from start to finish.’
‘So all we need to ask now,’ Robin said, ‘is why did she do it?’
‘Oh, can’t you guess, Robin? Tessa was right all along. Elfrieda did not take the conventional route to heaven, Viola pushed her there.’
‘Although once again it wasn’t premeditated, it wasn’t even murder. She had urgent business with Elfrieda that evening and she wanted to make sure they would not be disturbed. She’s a pretty good mimic, as you know, and it was she who telephoned Mr Padmore’s secretary and changed the appointment. Apart from that she’d done nothing underhand and she walked up the ramp quite openly, not much caring whether she were seen or not, since her mission, although not exactly friendly, was by no means hostile.’
‘The mission being?’
‘To have a straight talk with Elfrieda. She’d heard the rumours that Melanie was back in town and she guessed that it would only be a matter of time before Elfrieda relented and welcomed the prodigal home with open arms. Then all the quarrelling and discontent and Jamie’s sulks would start up again and she wanted to nip it in the bud. She may not have been starry eyed about the Rotunda, but she certainly had a vested interest in seeing that it continued to flourish and she meant to do her utmost to make Elfrieda see reason. She probably expected her to be mildly shocked when there was a tap on the door and, instead of Mr Padmore, in sailed Viola, but unfortunately there had been a much more severe shock only minutes before and Elfrieda was still badly shaken up by it.’
‘When, instead of Mr Padmore, in sailed Melanie?’
‘Not only that, but unrecognisable at first, because of the man’s wig and false moustache. She was fond of playing tricks like that and what I had failed to realise was that, in addition to being quite a competent actress, she was expert at disguise, able to fool even people who knew her well. And she threw herself into it with such enthusiasm that she used to borrow clothes and props from the wardrobe. However, to get back to Viola . . . where was I?’
‘She had just walked in instead of Mr Padmore.’
‘Oh yes, and looking rather alarmingly stern and resolute, no doubt having keyed herself up for the interview. Anyway, it was all a little too much for the old lady, who promptly collapsed. I should guess that Viola was about ready to follow her, when she realised what an effect she’d had and it must have gone through her mind in a flash that if she were to go for help there would be all sorts of awkward questions to be answered as to what she was doing there, not to mention some even more unwelcome queries concerning Mr Padmore’s telephone call. Just that kind of unpleasantness, in fact, which she had dedicated her life to avoiding. And, at a further guess, I’d say that it was then that Mr Padmore made his first attempt to ring the office, which he said he had tried to do for twenty minutes, and that this completely unnerved Viola. So she wheeled the chair on to the ramp, sent it on its way and then scuttled back to her dressing room. If the worst came to the worst and she met anyone on the way she could have explained that there’d been an accident and she was going for help. Otherwise, she’d bury herself in her book again and say nothing, which in fact is how it turned out.’
‘And what was Melanie up to during all this?’
‘She’d been sent into the back bedroom to remove her wig and make-up. That’s not a guess, incidentally, it’s the only plausible explanation for that false moustache on the dressing table.’
‘And you think she popped her head round the door at the crucial moment?’
‘Presumably. Which is also what makes me think it was then that Mr Padmore tried to ring up. I expect Melanie was starting to take off her disguise, feeling a bit deflated because her screamingly funny joke had fallen so flat and, when the phone went on ringing and Elfrieda didn’t answer, she got really scared and opened the communicating door, probably just in time to see Viola going to work.’
‘And then?’
‘Realising that something sinister was afoot and that it would be to her disadvantage to be found on the premises, she climbed into the service lift, descended to ground floor level, let herself out by the emergency exit and then nipped off back to her little love nest in the grounds of Dene Cottage.’
‘So that’s where she holed up during her disappearing acts.’
‘In that fisherman’s hut, no less. It was empty, as you know. They found quite a few of her belongings there and I think she and Charlie had been using it on and off ever since she arrived in Dearehaven.’
‘But what a fool she was to let on to Viola that she’d caught her in the act! She might have guessed that the reaction wouldn’t be very cordial.’
‘A guileless girl in many ways, but the terrifying part is that by doing so it was she who turned Viola into a murderess. Up till then, she’d been guilty of nothing worse than trying to avoid discord. She had a positive mania about life running smoothly for herself and everyone around her. That’s why she feared and hated Melanie; almost prophetically, you might say, because in the end it was Melanie who forced her hand and landed her in the worst trouble of all.’
‘So when she got murdered in her turn, you could say that she’d brought it on herself and only got her just deserts,’ Robin suggested.
‘Yes, I suppose you could.’
Toby looked rather depressed by this. Being so pessimistic, he does not like to hear of people’s sins finding them out, still less of such examples of punishment fitting the crime. So, in an attempt to take his mind off these dismal subjects, I asked them:
‘If this had been fiction, instead of merely truth, what would you have called it?’
‘How about Death in the Round?’ Robin suggested.
‘Yes, that’s not bad, because onions are round too, in a way, aren’t they?’
‘In a way, I suppose, but I’m not quite sure how they come into it.’
‘Well, you see, Robin, the cor
e of the whole matter was the character and personality of Melanie. Of Elfrieda, too, to some extent; she was a smaller onion. I never had a chance to get anywhere near the centres while they were alive, so I had to get other people to peel off one layer after another to find out what was underneath. And once I started, it really got a hold on me.’
‘I’m no good at titles,’ Toby said. ‘I usually leave it to the girl who does my typing.’
‘I wonder what she’d come up with for this one?’
‘Oh, The Onion Skin Murder, I expect. She has the straightforward approach.’
‘Well, that might do, I suppose. I’ll have to think about it and give you my decision in the morning.’
‘No hurry!’ he said, brightening up as he saw the end in sight. ‘Next week, any time at all will do just as well.’
T H E E N D
Felicity Shaw
The detective novels of Anne Morice seem rather to reflect the actual life and background of the author, whose full married name was Felicity Anne Morice Worthington Shaw. Felicity was born in the county of Kent on February 18, 1916, one of four daughters of Harry Edward Worthington, a well-loved village doctor, and his pretty young wife, Muriel Rose Morice. Seemingly this is an unexceptional provenance for an English mystery writer—yet in fact Felicity’s complicated ancestry was like something out of a classic English mystery, with several cases of children born on the wrong side of the blanket to prominent sires and their humbly born paramours. Her mother Muriel Rose was the natural daughter of dressmaker Rebecca Garnett Gould and Charles John Morice, a Harrow graduate and footballer who played in the 1872 England/Scotland match. Doffing his football kit after this triumph, Charles became a stockbroker like his father, his brothers and his nephew Percy John de Paravicini, son of Baron James Prior de Paravicini and Charles’ only surviving sister, Valentina Antoinette Sampayo Morice. (Of Scottish mercantile origin, the Morices had extensive Portuguese business connections.) Charles also found time, when not playing the fields of sport or commerce, to father a pair of out-of-wedlock children with a coachman’s daughter, Clementina Frances Turvey, whom he would later marry.