A Testament to Murder

by Vivian Conroy

  Patty let him pull out her chair for her and she sat down so he could give it the last obligatory push in place. He sat down beside her and picked up his napkin to spread it in his lap.

  Malcolm came in, leaning on the arm of Theodora, who had this time donned a deep red dress with a conspicuous necklace holding a single diamond.

  “I can’t believe that is real,” Patty confided to Jasper. “How on earth could she afford it?”

  “If I had a closer look at it, I could tell you for certain,” Jasper retorted.

  She hitched a brow at him. “You know something about stones?”

  “They’ve been part of my work for a time.”

  “So you were in the jewellery business. How interesting. Have you ever travelled to Africa to see one of the mines?” Patty spread her hands in a delighted gesture. “I’ve always thought it grand to see where the diamonds grow.” She wasn’t sure grow was the right word, but Hugh sat too far away to smirk at her. This dinner would be lovely and relaxed.

  “I never had to travel to Africa. Somehow the stones always seemed to come to me. Spectacular ones with histories of bloodshed attached.”

  “Bloodshed?” Patty echoed, uncomfortable.

  “Yes, didn’t you know that precious gems often lead to theft, deception and murder? The most notorious stones have the longest history of crime attached to them. Still, everybody who has ever seen them and fallen under their spell wants to own them. Even at the risk of getting killed over them.”

  Patty suppressed a shiver. She kept smiling. “You call it a spell. So you think it’s inevitable?”

  Jasper shrugged. “I think that a stone can be like a beautiful woman. You get intoxicated by it and you almost lose your mind. You lose your ability to think logically and see the risks involved. You just see what you want to see and you are willing to do anything to own it. To own her.” His eyes held Patty’s with an intensity she found slightly unnerving. Under different circumstances she might have accepted his remark as flirtation, a complimentary hint that she was such a woman. But this man was studying her as if to determine if she fitted his description the same way an animal fits into a species.

  She shouldn’t forget he was a friend of Malcolm. What if the old man had asked Jasper to find out if she was a gold-digger like everyone seemed to suppose she was?

  A gold-digger she was only on the surface. What lay beneath could harm her more. If it ever came to light.

  “You seem to know a lot about women. Are you married?” she asked.

  Jasper laughed. “No, I’ve always been married to my career. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t met my fair share of beautiful women.”

  “And did you also lose your mind over them? You seem like a man who is very rational and sane.”

  Jasper looked away from her, to focus on the butler who brought in the soup. That he didn’t answer her question might be revealing. She wished she knew more about him.

  * * *

  Hugh had never spent such an uncomfortable time at dinner. Such gatherings could be boring or scintillating, depending on who the other guests around the table were, but they had never been for him like a walk on egg shells. At this dinner, however, there was a danger lurking. Howard had whispered to him, just as they had walked into the house to change, that this man was a former policeman. The mere word had struck fear into Hugh’s heart. He had felt like his guilty thoughts about his uncle’s demise were written on his forehead and the policeman could read them all. He had considered faking a headache and staying away from the dinner table, but he had figured it might look suspicious. Who knew how much this policeman knew about Uncle Malcolm’s inheritance plans? The will, the changing heirs, the whole setup?

  Besides, Hugh had wanted to keep an eye on the other guests and see how they behaved in the presence of this man. They might not know who he was, could not guess what he was doing here…

  Or did they? Cecily should have learned from Howard. Still she didn’t seem uncomfortable, cutting up her pork like she was used to dining with the police.

  Howard himself was taciturn, his face a mask. The only times Hugh saw some kind of emotion flicker in his eyes was when he looked at Kenneth and then at Anna Cane. Normally he would have bet the old fool was worried the boy would fall in love with her and create a scene. But now that Hugh knew what Anna had told him at the folly, he saw the situation through new eyes. Howard had to know something about Kenneth’s boating trip with Anna. Just what exactly had Kenneth told him? That the boat had overturned by accident and that he had tried to save Anna? Did Howard believe that?

  Hugh frowned hard, trying to imagine he had a son and he heard that story. It seemed likely to him that a father would believe his son, but he knew from bitter experience that not all fathers believed the best of their children. His hands clenched round knife and fork. Maybe Howard readily assumed that his son had been up to no good with the pretty nurse.

  Patty’s laughter tinkled like crystal in the air. He threw a vicious look at her. Of course she had to court the policeman. Not knowing who he was. Little blind fool.

  On the other hand, she might tell him a thing or two that got the policeman suspicious of her once the time of Malcolm’s death came. For that time would come. Hugh was sure of it. The old man had signed his own death warrant when he had thought up this game. They could all think of a way to do the old man in. A bad oyster like Patty and he had discussed almost jokingly. An overdose of medicine. A fall down the stairs.

  Or even better, down the rocks.

  Or crudely, but effectively, a blade slipped between the ribs, or a bullet right through the heart. Some of them were cold enough to do that, Hugh figured.

  And deep inside of him he hoped one of them would actually try. And then after Malcolm was dead and the will was opened, it would be found that he, Hugh, was now sole heir. He would get it all without having to do anything for it. It would be perfect.

  Not a fan of sweet desserts, Hugh pushed his bowl away from him and leaned back, trying to steady his shaky hands on the table’s edge. His mind wandered to the after-dinner drinks and to the solace they could give him. Patty kept laughing, a sound that grated on his nerves. He wanted to get up and grip her naked shoulders and shake her until she stopped laughing.

  But he remained seated and waited until they had all finished eating. Until Malcolm gave the signal they could rise and leave the room. Let the old fool believe he was in charge. That they all did his bidding. It would soon be over.

  Soon.

  * * *

  Howard waited on the landing for Anna Cane to come out of Malcolm’s room. He had decided he had to do this, even though he didn’t want to. But it was imperative he saved his son. He only had one.

  As soon as the young woman saw him standing there, she shrank back, her eyes widening. Her sweet young face staring at him like he was a dangerous animal about to devour her alive made him hate himself a moment. One fleeting moment.

  Then he said, in a level tone, “I suppose you know what I am here for, Miss Cane. I’m only going to say this once. I’m sure you’re intelligent enough to understand my meaning at the first try. You stay away from my son. You don’t go anywhere with him alone.”

  “I can assure you I don’t want to go anywhere with him alone,” Anna said, her voice shaking.

  Howard continued as if he hadn’t heard her, “I could tell Malcolm how you tried to seduce my son and he would dismiss you straight away. You would be in the street, without a protector, penniless and alone. Not an enviable position. I have no wish to make life that hard for you. But you must understand that I will make it even harder than that if you ever come near Kenneth again.”

  “I didn’t try to seduce your son, Mr Jones.” Anna’s face was pale, but her jaw line tightened. “We only spoke about his uncle Malcolm and the past. Then he attacked me.”

  “I’ve said all I need to say,” Howard cut across her. “You stay away from him and everything will be all right. You need not lea
ve your position here.”

  His heart was pounding fast. He wasn’t sure Malcolm would actually dismiss the pretty blonde if Howard asked him to, so he was wagering a lot here. But he had to protect Kenneth. Protect Kenneth against himself foremost. But Anna Cane didn’t need to know that.

  Anna stood stiffly. “I don’t agree with what you said about the situation. But you’re right that I have no one here to stand up for me. I can only say I pity you for having raised such a son.”

  Howard flinched. He wanted to lash out at her, with words, or perhaps even with a well-placed slap in her calm, arrogant face. But he didn’t. He knew how to control his anger.

  If only he could teach it to Kenneth as well.

  Anna walked past him, her perfume brushing against him, and disappeared into her own nearby room.

  Howard stood motionless. Was it really so hard to imagine that Kenneth had been instantly smitten with her tranquil beauty? That he had believed that he could steal a kiss from her during the boating trip?

  Howard turned round brusquely and went to Kenneth’s room. The boy had complained about a headache and gone up even before dinner had been over.

  He found Kenneth on the bed staring up at the ceiling with wide-open eyes. The stillness in his face struck him, dread clawing at his stomach again as he recalled the search for his son, on the beach, afraid to find his dead body in the sand. Drowned, snatched away from them.

  Howard wanted to grab his son and hug him, hold him close, tell him to never ever do that to them again. But he stood in the room, tall, stiff, uncomfortable and said, “Do you need a pill? Your mother has some on her.”

  “No.” Kenneth’s voice was cold. “I don’t mind the pain. It makes me sort of numb.”

  Howard bit on his tongue. On the night the village boy had been beaten up, Kenneth had also complained about a headache. He had also gone to bed early. Was something wrong with him? Was he telling the truth that he couldn’t remember what had happened, what he had done? Was there perhaps some physical reason why he forgot? Something wrong inside his brain?

  No. Howard didn’t want to believe that there could be anything wrong with his perfect son. With the boy he had held in his arms as a baby, making him insanely happy because he had won everything: Malcolm’s wife, Malcolm’s business and even the son Malcolm had never had. Not with his first wife, not with Cecily either.

  Anna Cane’s voice echoed in his head. ‘We talked about the past and then he attacked me.’

  Howard jerked his head down and stared at the multi-coloured rug in front of the bed. “If you do want a pill later, come to our room. We won’t be staying up much longer.”

  He turned away to the door. His hand was already on the knob when Kenneth spoke. “Who do you think was in the will today? Only a few hours left and then that person’s chance is gone forever.”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care,” Howard said.

  He knew by Kenneth’s intake of breath which was almost like a scoff that his son believed he was lying. He didn’t know himself if he was. He did know that more was at stake here than just Malcolm’s fortune.

  What exactly had Anna Cane told Kenneth about the past?

  * * *

  “I don’t see why when I have had a little fun you must always come and spoil it,” Patty said as she sat at the dressing table removing her makeup. Hugh paced the room behind her back, like a caged tiger. He had repeated seven times at least that she shouldn’t have been so eager to talk to their guest.

  “Jasper is perfectly nice.”

  Hugh halted and glared at her. “Jasper…” He drew out the syllables with mock adoration. “Is a former policeman. Howard told me.”

  Patty’s hand on her forehead stalled. She stared at her husband in the mirror’s reflection. His face seemed distorted into a mask of despair.

  “How on earth did Howard get to thinking that?” Patty forced her hand to continue cleaning her face. Her heartbeat had sped up but she refused to show any sign of surprise to Hugh. “He can be so odd.”

  “He didn’t make it up. The man told him while they walked over to the villa. After they had picked up Kenneth.”

  Hugh rubbed his arms like he was cold. “I can’t believe Howard brought a policeman here.”

  “I understood Jasper is a friend of your uncle Malcolm. He comes here quite often. We can’t make him stay away just because we are here now. And I don’t believe he was ever with the police. He must have said that to frighten Howard. Yes, of course. It’s all a joke.” She smiled at Hugh. “Jasper must know that Malcolm has asked us here for the will. He pretends he was with the police to see how we will respond.”

  She turned around on the stool and laughed. “You responded in the exact way a guilty conscience would. You got scared.”

  She held his gaze, suddenly not laughing anymore. “Why, Hugh? Are you really ready to kill him?”

  “Of course not,” Hugh spat. “He’s dying already. I need not lend a hand.”

  “But of course you do. How stupid can you be? If your name is on the will today, you have exactly…” She looked at her watch. “One hour and forty minutes left to make sure he dies and you get it all.”

  “But my name is not on the will, or is it?” Hugh suddenly closed in on her. His eyes flashed, and his breath was hot on her face as he spoke in a hiss, “You should know. You had enough time to discuss it with your little lawyer friend.”

  Patty blinked. “My lawyer friend? I never spoke a single word to Koning over dinner.”

  “Not at dinner. Last night. When you were all alone with him in the study.”

  Patty’s heart skipped a beat. How did Hugh know about that? Had he not been fast asleep at all? Had he followed her? Had he listened at the door? How much did he know or guess?

  She tried to laugh it off. “Yes, so I was in the study to look at the safe. I thought it would be easy to open and I could take a little peek at the will. But of course such a combination lock isn’t easy to open at all and… Koning came in and caught me. I had a hard time getting away from him. I think he now suspects me of wanting to murder Uncle Malcolm.”

  “You’re certainly greedy enough for it.”

  “How dare you? And get that alcohol-reeking breath out of my face.” She glared at him. “You say so many times that I’m not like I was when we first met. No, because back then I didn’t know you were just a useless drunk.”

  Hugh flinched as if she had struck him across the face. He backed up two paces and stared at her. For a moment Patty believed he really cared about what she thought of him.

  Then she dismissed the thought. He didn’t and even if he did, it didn’t matter to her. She had decided before she even said I do what she wanted out of this marriage, and she would get it. Somehow.

  She turned back to the mirror and finished cleaning her face.

  Hugh staggered to the bed and sagged on it. “You need not have said that,” he muttered.

  “Well, you’re drinking way too much. How can I respect you when you’re constantly drunk? You don’t write. You don’t sculpt. You just don’t do anything.”

  “We’re on holiday here. I don’t need to work.”

  “No, and once you have all of Uncle Malcolm’s money you need not work ever again. So I don’t understand why you aren’t trying just a little harder for it.”

  “I don’t want to be suspected. Let alone accused.”

  Patty laughed. She put her necklace in her jewellery box and closed it with a vicious click. “You’re already suspected. You’re Malcolm’s closest blood relative. You need money. You never liked him. You haven’t been to see him in years. It doesn’t take much to figure out you are the first in line to kill him. And when you lost at golf, you were hacking into the grass like you were killing someone. Simply bludgeoning him to death. Yes, I think if Malcolm dies tonight, his brain bashed in with a putter, all eyes will be on you. Your prints are on it. You handled it last.”

  Patty stood up and walked to the bed,
reached for her sleeping mask of pink silk on the night stand. She sat on the bed and put the mask in place, then lowered herself into the pillows. “Sleep tight, darling.”

  * * *

  Hugh threw himself on his back with a sigh. That bitch. By mentioning his antics with the putter, and his prints being left on it as he had handled it last, she had thoroughly ruined any chance of a good night’s sleep. He had already felt hunted by the appearance of that former policeman, and now this.

  He sat up and swung his legs out of bed. There was but one thing he could do about it. And for once in his life he would actually do it too, act, be brave.

  He found his way to the door and looked down the corridor. The little lights along the wall were burning. It was eerily quiet; there didn’t seem to be anyone around. He took a deep breath and stepped out of the room. Immediately he felt exposed as if he was suddenly vulnerable to attack. He listened carefully for any sounds coming from behind him or from up ahead. With his back pressed against the wall, he moved, slowly. His palms filled with sweat. He’d make a lousy burglar.

  An even lousier murderer.

  He came to the top of the stairs and waited for a few painfully hard heartbeats glancing down to detect movement in the shadows. There was none. Then he went down, clutching the railing. He waited anxiously for the feel of a hand in his back, pushing him, propelling him down the stairs. But nothing happened.

  Sweat leaked down his neck, wetting his pyjamas. Why had he even put on those ruddy things in this heat…?

  He turned into the corridor leading to the kitchens. After his attack on the grass he had tossed the putter into the pantry, into a wooden box with other materials for outdoor activities. It had to be still there.

  In the kitchen the stove was on, the glowing coming from the red light inside. It stared at him like a predator’s eye, maliciously gleaming.

  Hugh ignored the lump in his throat and went into the pantry, turning on the electric light. He sighed in relief that he had made it this far. He sat on his haunches looking for the putter in the box. There it was.