The Campbell Curse

by Olivier Bosman

  “Mr Billings,” she said, collecting herself and smiling at him. “Is the train about to leave? How kind of you to come and fetch me.” She grabbed Kitty’s hand and pulled her out of her chair and towards the door. But before she was able to exit, Billings put his hands on her shoulders and looked her straight in the eye.

  “I think you’ve got some explaining to do,” he said.

  “I couldn’t stand watching the girl being tormented anymore.”

  Mary was sitting in the Railway Police office. Billings, LeFevre and Hardy were sitting opposite her. Kitty was cuddled up in her mother’s arms.

  “She has nightmares every night,” Mary continued. “She is traumatised. At her age, children need security. They need stability. She needs to be back in Virginia with her father and her friends.”

  “And was it your plan to take her there yourself?” Billings asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “I have two passages on the SS Britannic for next week.”

  LeFevre raised her eyebrows. “Oh, you have, have you?” she interrupted. “And how could you afford those? You can’t have been paid yet. None of us have.”

  Billings turned towards the actress and scowled at her. “Miss LeFevre, please. I allowed you to sit in at this interview on the condition that you’d stay quiet.”

  “Well, ask her how she got the money, then.”

  “I saved up for it,” Mary replied.

  “Saved up for it, my foot! Randolph sent you that money, didn’t he?”

  Billings slammed his hand on the desk. “Miss LeFevre, please!”

  “But she’s having an affair with my husband. She’s been writing to him. Writing about everything I get up to. Trying to give him grounds for a divorce.”

  “Miss LeFevre, I won’t ask you again. Either you remain quiet or you leave this office at once.”

  “Well, ask her about it, then.”

  Billings turned towards Mary and was about to ask her, but Mary saw no need to wait for the question to be posed.

  “Yes, I do have a correspondence with Randolph, and yes, I do write to him about you. I write to him about how you neglect your daughter. About how you leave Kitty with me while you go off drinking with Hal in Paris. Or get wasted in an opium den. But I am not having an affair with him. I am just concerned for Kitty. I am concerned for her wellbeing, and I will not sit back and watch her being neglected.”

  “And what about the death threat?” Billings asked.

  Mary looked surprised. “The death threat?”

  “Did you send it?”

  “Why would I send her a death threat?”

  “To frighten Miss LeFevre into going back to America with Kitty, perhaps.”

  “That’s outrageous!”

  “So you deny sending it?”

  “Of course I deny it. I absolutely deny it.”

  “You’re lying, you devious bitch! It was you!” LeFevre jumped out of her chair and was on the point of launching herself across the table and grabbing Mary’s throat, but Billings intervened and pulled her back to her chair.

  The commotion upset Kitty, and she began to cry.

  “There,” Mary said, pointing at the girl. “She’s upset again because of her. Carola is a bad example.”

  Again, LeFevre jumped up from her chair, but this time Billings got up from his seat and stopped her. “Out!” he said. “Both of you!” He walked across to the other side of the table and began pulling Mary out of her chair. “Go outside, get some fresh air and don’t come back in until you have calmed down. I’ll continue this discussion with Mr Hardy.” Billings pushed the two actresses out of the office, then shut the door and turned the lock.

  “Well done, Mr Billings,” Hardy said as the detective resumed his seat at the table. “Let’s leave emotion out of this and try and resolve this minor issue in a reasonable manner.”

  “Minor issue?” Billings raised his eyebrows. “This is abduction we’re talking about, Mr Hardy. The attempted abduction of a nine-year-old girl.”

  “Now, now, Mr Billings. Abduction is a strong word. Miss Wesley was only acting in the girl’s best interest. I do agree with her that Miss LeFevre is not the best of mothers. That girl should never have come with us on tour.”

  “Why did you allow it?”

  “I didn’t know about it, Mr Billings. I didn’t know she had come along until I saw her sitting at the captain’s table with her mother, by which time it was already too late to send her back. And anyway, like Mr Westbrook, she is here entirely at Miss LeFevre’s own expense, so I don’t really have a say in the matter.”

  “Well, the question we need to resolve now though, Mr Hardy, is whether or not we should press charges against Miss Wesley. She has attempted to take Miss LeFevre’s daughter away from her against her knowledge, which is a criminal offense.”

  “But she did so with the best of intentions,” Hardy replied. “Miss Wesley and Miss LeFevre have been friends for years. The two have a very complicated relationship. I think it’s best if the ladies resolve this issue privately.”

  “What precisely is their relationship with each other?”

  “They’re school friends, Mr Billings. They both pursued acting careers after school. Miss LeFevre succeeded and Miss Wesley did not, but they remained friends. After Kitty was born, Miss Wesley moved in with Miss LeFevre and her husband to look after the baby while Miss LeFevre toured the United States.”

  “Is Miss Wesley really having an affair with Miss LeFevre’s husband?”

  “I don’t know about that, Mr Billings, and it’s none of my business. But there have been rumours. Miss LeFevre’s husband and Miss Wesley were stuck with each other for quite a few months while Carola went touring. It’s an unusual arrangement, and not a healthy one in my opinion, but far be it from me to judge.”

  “And what about Mr Westbrook? How does he fit into all this?”

  “Ah, now Mr Westbrook is a different story altogether.”

  “What is his relationship with Miss LeFevre?”

  “They’re not lovers, Mr Billings, if that’s what you’re insinuating. Anyone who knows Mr Westbrook will tell you that he is not the woman-chasing type, if you know what I mean.” He winked and smiled at Billings as he said this. “Mr Westbrook is Miss LeFevre’s protege. He’s a poor man from a poor family. You wouldn’t think so by looking at him – Miss LeFevre has taught him well – but he’s the son of Irish immigrants. His father was a drunk and his mother worked the streets. He worked as an usher in the theatre when he was sixteen. He saw Miss LeFevre perform and became completely enamoured with the theatre world. Miss LeFevre has taken him under her wing ever since. But all of this is beside the point, Mr Billings. What we really should be discussing is what we’re going to do about these charges.”

  “What do you think we should do?”

  “Well, if we press charges, the papers will get wind of it, and the resulting publicity would be disastrous for the show. We’d have to cancel the Edinburgh run.”

  “But it’s not up to you, is it, Mr Hardy? Miss LeFevre is the victim here. She’s the one who should decide whether or not to press charges.”

  “Let me talk to her about dropping the charges,” Hardy interrupted. “I can get through to her. She’ll understand the implications. Her reputation would be ruined if the press were to find out what’s been going on here. Leave it in my hands, Mr Billings. These are actors we’re talking about. They’re tempestuous, spontaneous, emotional. I know how to handle them. Believe me, Mr Billings. There really is no need for the law to get involved.”

  It was half past two in the morning. The private carriage had been attached to the night train, and it was now chugging along through the dark English countryside. It was tastefully decorated. There was a Persian rug on the floor, two red velvet sofas standing opposite each other and two matching armchairs. There was even a fully equipped bar in the corner, although this came without a waiter.

  LeFevre was sit
ting on one of the sofas, her legs stretched out before her so that there was no room for anyone else – except for Kitty, who had fallen asleep on top of her. She was holding a champagne glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

  “Do you remember, Mary, that waiter in Paris who couldn’t take his eyes off my bosom?” She was addressing Mary and Hardy, who were sitting on the sofa opposite her, also holding champagne glasses. They smiled and nodded. “‘Mes yeux sont la’, I kept saying to him.” LeFevre was pointing at her eyes. “‘Mes yeux sont la’.”

  Mary laughed heartily and spilled some champagne over her dress.

  “Ooh, careful, ma cherie,” LeFevre cried. “Don’t waste it. We’ve still got another eight hours to go.” She then turned to look at Westbrook, who was standing at the bar. “How many more of those bottles have we got, Hal?”

  “Three,” Westbrook called back.

  “Are they on ice?”

  “What’s left of it.”

  “Well, bring one over, will you, before it gets warm.”

  LeFevre’s shouting woke up Kitty, and she opened her sleepy eyes. “Where are we?” she said.

  “We’re on the train, darling,” her mother answered.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To Scotland.”

  Kitty continued to look around her, confused. Then her face suddenly tensed up and she began to cry.

  “What’s the matter, honey?” her mother asked.

  “I want to go home.”

  “But you are home, darling. This is home.”

  “This isn’t home.”

  “It’s a temporary home. It’s home for the next eight hours. Home is where the heart is, dear. And do you know where my heart is?”

  Kitty shook her head.

  LeFevre took a pendant watch from around her neck. “This is where my heart is.” She showed the watch to her daughter. “It’s got a picture of my papa in it.” She opened the watch and showed Kitty a small cameo painting of her father. “Malcolm Archibald Campbell. That’s your grandfather. He was Scottish, you know. He came from Edinburgh. And we’re going to Edinburgh now to pay tribute to him. I take this watch with me everywhere. It is always close to my heart. And that’s why I always feel at home wherever I am.”

  Kitty pushed the watch away. “I want to go home to Papa and to Lucille. ”

  LeFevre’s face tensed up and she turned towards her companions.

  Mary tactfully cast her eyes down. “She’s just tired,” she said with a trace of uneasiness in her voice.

  “She really should be in bed,” LeFevre concluded. “Why isn’t there a bed in here?” she asked Mr Hardy. “Why didn’t you get us a sleeper carriage?”

  “We weren’t supposed to be travelling by night, remember?”

  Both LeFevre and Mr Hardy resisted the temptation to look accusingly at Mary. Their current state of peace was still very fragile, and nobody wanted to rock the boat. But the tension could certainly be felt.

  “Why don’t you wear this watch, darling.” LeFevre put the pendant around her daughter’s neck. “After all, you are part of the Campbell clan. And this pendant will always make you feel at home. Now go back to sleep, dear. You’ll feel better once you’ve slept.” She caressed her daughter’s head while she dozed off, then turned towards Westbrook. “Where’s the champagne, Hal?”

  “It’s coming.” Westbrook took a champagne bottle from the ice bucket and started opening it up. He glanced at Billings, who was sitting on one of the bar stools, reading a book. “What you reading there, Billings?” he asked.

  Billings looked up. “Oh, it’s a French book.” He closed the book and held it up for Westbrook to see. “It’s about Alphonse Bertillon, who worked for the French police and made a study of biometrics and anthropometry.”

  “Anthropo… what?”

  “It’s a technique used by the French police to identify criminals. There’s also a whole chapter about documenting the crime scene. It’s quite interesting how methodical the French are about doing their work.”

  Westbrook laughed. “Good lord, Billings, will you never stop working!”

  Billings smiled back politely and put the book in his coat pocket, although in reality he was offended by Westbrook’s reaction.

  “Hal! The champagne!” LeFevre yelled again. “Hurry up! Mary’s getting thirsty.”

  “Yes, yes, it’s coming.” He turned towards Billings again. “It seems that now Miss LeFevre is good friends with Mary again, I have been relegated to being her waiter.”

  “Hal!”

  “Oui, mademoiselle.”

  Westbrook took the bottle and brought it over to the sofas. He put it down on one of the travel cases, which was being used as a coffee table, then picked the empty bottles off the floor. “Anything else I can do for you, mademoiselle?”

  “No, Hal. You can go now.” LeFevre waved him away with her hand.

  Westbrook walked back towards the bar, smiling and winking at Billings as he did so. “It seems I’m allowed a little break now.” He threw the empty bottles in a bin, took a tobacco case out of his breast pocket and popped a cigarette in his mouth. “There’s a little balcony at the end of this carriage,” he said, lighting his cigarette. “Would you care to join me for a breath of fresh air?”

  Billings and Westbrook turned towards the back door and stepped out onto the balcony. They lifted the collars of their coats as the chilly night air hit them.

  “So. This is the English countryside then, is it?” Westbrook said, putting his hands on the railings and looking out at pitch darkness.

  They laughed.

  Billings joined him at the railings. “We must be approaching Peterborough by now.”

  “Is Peterborough worth seeing?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, it’s a good job we can’t see anything then, isn’t it?” Westbrook laughed again. He slid his hand over the railings, and his little finger was now touching that of Billings.

  Billings’ first instinct was to immediately remove his hand from the railings, but he resisted that temptation and allowed Westbrook to gently stroke his little finger with his. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he didn’t dare look Westbrook in the face.

  “I must say, I’m a little bit confused about Miss LeFevre’s renewed friendship with Miss Wesley,” he said, staring ahead of him at the darkness, hoping conversation would ease his discomfort.

  “Oh, it won’t last. But they’re stuck with each other for another eight hours, so they might as well be polite.”

  “I don’t understand why Miss LeFevre didn’t press charges. Miss Wesley tried to abduct her child.”

  “Pressing charges would do nobody any good. The negative publicity would be disastrous for both of them. Mary and Carola aren’t really friends. They never have been. But they do need each other. So they’ll feign friendship. And they’re very good at that. They’re actors, after all. It’s an awfully artificial world, Billings, this world of show business.”

  “And yet, it seems to me you want to be part of it.”

  “I admit, I would have liked to have been part of that world. I’d love to have been an actor and to get all this adulation from the public. But I simply don’t have the talent. Carola is the talented one. And I hang on to her, basking in her reflected glory, as she so succinctly put it. And she is a great actress, don’t you think?”

  “Is she?”

  “Well, you’ve seen the play.”

  “It’s the first play I’ve ever seen. I’m not really in a position to judge.”

  “Well, what did you think of Lloyd Armitage?”

  “Who?”

  “The actor who plays Macbeth.”

  “He seems a bit young for the part.”

  “He is. Apparently, he did Romeo last year and received wonderful reviews, but he doesn’t quite have the gravitas for Macbeth. Carola insisted on him for the part. She picked all of the main actors and made damned sure nobody would upstage her. She is the st
ar of the show. The play should really be renamed ’Lady Macbeth’; after all, she’s the one that audiences pay to see. It would have been a complete flop without her.”

  “You seem proud of her.”

  “Well… she’s a character. I like people who are a bit different to the norm. Like you.” Suddenly he turned to face Billings. “You’re a character too.”

  “How am I a character?”

  “You’re so serious… and straight… and uptight… and aloof. But at the same time there’s something very gentle and boyish about you.”

  “Gentle and boyish?” Billings frowned at this description.

  “Sometimes you have a certain look about you. Like a little lost boy. A little orphan. A little urchin. Looking for help but not daring to ask for it.”

  Billings laughed uncomfortably. “What an odd description,” he said, not knowing how else to reply. Then he suddenly noticed that Westbrook was slowly moving his face towards him, as if he was about to kiss him.

  “It’s getting very chilly now.” Billings took his hand off the railings. “I think I’d better head inside again.” Turning his back on his companion, he rushed for the door and went back into the carriage.

  4. Edinburgh

  “Come on, darling, get up. I’m not going to ask you again.”

  Billings was sitting in the corridor of the Auld Reekie Hotel, outside LeFevre’s room, reading his Bertillon book. He could hear the actress arguing with her daughter through the door.

  “Kitty, please. I know you’re awake. I have no time for your tantrums. This is a very important night for me. It’s the Edinburgh premiere. The highlight of the tour.”

  Hardy appeared in the corridor from the stairwell and approached the detective. “Good evening, Mr Billings. Are they ready?”

  “I don’t think they are, Mr Hardy. That is to say, I believe Miss LeFevre is ready, but it appears Kitty is still in bed.”