Death Among the Kisses (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 10)
Page 11
‘I regret to say, yes, Chief Inspector. Just the one box, for Mrs Falkner. It’s so difficult to buy anything more interesting locally. It was on Christmas Eve we delivered them, though. We didn’t actually come to stay here until Christmas Day.’
‘What happened to them? Can you remember? Did you actually deliver them into the hands of Mrs Falkner?’
‘No, I don’t think we ever did. In fact, I’m sure we didn’t. We had about half a dozen things altogether so I gave some to Alison to carry and we put them under the Christmas tree.’
‘Can you remember Mrs Falkner opening them?’
‘No, I can’t. Well, I say that. I naturally assumed that the box we were offered a chocolate from was the one we’d given her, as one would. But they can’t have been, can they? Because ours weren’t poisoned, obviously.’
‘Can you be sure of that?’
‘You mean, can I be sure it wasn’t Alf? Lord yes! I mean, he just wouldn’t. He’s such a kindly, gentle man.’
‘But you decided not to marry him? No, don’t answer that. It’s none of my business. What did he think of Mrs Falkner? Did he ever say anything about her?’
‘It’s nothing to do with the murder, that I decided not to marry Alf, Chief Inspector. It’s just that I thought I’d never see Walter again. If I’d known that I would, I’d never have accepted Alf. He used to laugh about her – Alf, I mean – how bossy she was with the daughters and how they just put up with it. But he and she seemed to get on all right. After all, he accepted her invitation to spend Christmas with them. I thought she was quite nice until she said that terrible thing. But maybe she didn’t mean it to come out like that. It’s so easy to blurt, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it is. What about the daughters, do you get on all right with them?’
‘Yes, I think so. I was a bit nervous of them at first, because I thought they might resent me, but if they do, they don’t show it.’
‘Do you think Alf’s ever carried a torch for any of them?’
Florence looked surprised. ‘Heavens! I shouldn’t think so. They’re hardly his type, are they? I mean, if I am. She stood up. ‘I was never his mistress, you know. I’m no-one’s mistress. I just want to marry again and be happy. I’m so very sorry about Mrs Falkner.’
‘Quite the reverse?’ said Rattigan, when Florence had gone.
‘I suppose,’ said Felix, ‘he meant his interests were served by keeping La Falkner alive until the deal had gone through, which it seems they were, unless there’s something we don’t know about.’
‘Although,’ said Rattigan reflectively, ‘You could see it another way.’
‘I know what you’re going to say. That she had some incentive to murder him.’
‘Quite so. She didn’t want the farm to change hands and he couldn’t buy it if he were dead.’
Felix sighed resignedly. ‘Also, of course, she bought those chocolates in the village. I think I need a pipe.’
They spent a little time packing their briars and getting them going.
‘You know,’ said Rattigan. ‘I get the most absurd fancies. For example, someone might have mixed the damned stuff into my tobacco.’
‘I’m in the same case,’ nodded Felix, pausing doubtfully before applying a match, ‘And so, probably, is everyone in the house. If we can’t solve this one pretty quickly, I think we’re going to have to turn them loose before we have another corpse on our hands; which we might have if whoever it is feels sufficiently threatened.’
‘We’re agreed, then, that we add the victim to our list of suspects?’ Rattigan smiled around his pipestem. ‘That’s a sentence I never thought to utter.’
‘I think we’ll have to, yes. But while attempting to murder Alf Brown, and I agree it’s a theory, how on earth did she manage to poison herself? It would seem the height of carelessness. And why would she then accuse him of poisoning her? If that’s what she did.’
‘Trying to salvage something from the mess, perhaps? Reasoning that if he hangs, he won’t get the farm. As for poisoning herself, it’s as simple as selecting the wrong chocolate. She was offering him one in a roomful of people, so perhaps something distracted her.’
‘So, she offers Brown what she believes to be a poisoned chocolate and, perhaps to encourage him, takes one that she believes isn’t poisoned. Unfortunately for her, it is.’
‘Or to suggest to the other people in the room that she’s unlikely to be the poisoner, since she took one herself?’
‘Yes, that’s better, perhaps.’
‘But how does she know which he’ll take?’
Felix opened their sample box again. ‘All right, what have we got? Sixteen chocolates, single layer, two equal compartments. It’d be hard work doctoring them all, always with the risk of damaging one, so she just does one compartment, which also makes it easy to identify the safe ones, or it ought to do. We know seven chocolates were poisoned, counting the one she ate, so that makes sense. The missing one was probably a decoy, intended to suggest that someone has taken one already. Or maybe she smashed it putting the poison in and had to reject it. Perhaps that’s more likely. All she has to do after that is hand Mr Brown the box with the poisoned end towards him, perhaps even folding back the covering paper to prevent him dipping into the other.’
‘Yes, that would work. Definitely worth looking at, and a solid motive, especially from someone with an apparent hatred of men. What about Brown, though? I take it we can wash him out now? Or can we?’
Felix sent some contemplative puffs of smoke into the room. ‘Can we though? Suppose he did want to murder her, for reasons unknown. He gives her the box of chocolates, or sees to it that she opens the lethal one, and so arranges the contents that he can safely take one while she is poisoned. No, that wouldn’t do, would it? Once she’s got the box in her hands, she could unknowingly slaughter half the room.’
‘That’s assuming he cares if she did. Quite a good ploy when you think about it.’
‘Causing us to assume it was some sort of mass murdering maniac, do you mean? No, I don’t think so. Not Alf Brown. Keep him on ice for now though.’
‘Reconstruction?’
‘Yes, it might help. Best fetch the others.’
◆◆◆
‘Sir?’ said Yardley, answering their summons.
‘Where are Brown and Bartlett now?’
‘Bartlett went back upstairs with Mrs Gray, and Brown’s outside, smoking. Or was.’
‘Too far to swing a punch anyway. Paul, give us ten minutes or so then go up and find Bartlett and tell him I have a question for him. No rush. John, this is a chance to demonstrate your thespian talents. You’re going to be an old lady with a broken leg.’
‘Perfect casting,’ grinned Yardley.
Only Harry and family were in the parlour.
‘Shall I fetch Brown in?’ asked Nash.
‘No,’ said Felix. ‘I think we’ll stick to disinterested observers, at least to start with. Mr Falkner, I’m sorry to trouble you but we wish to look closely again at the period just before your mother ate the poisoned chocolate. Mrs Falkner, we haven’t spoken yet. How do you do? Can one of you take me through those few minutes? For a start, who was sitting where?’
‘How do you do, Inspector?’ said Helen. ‘I can tell you that. We were sitting where we are now, more or less, but Lydia was at the table, doing a jigsaw puzzle, and Archie was crawling about the floor being a cowboy—’
‘No, I wasn’t,’ said Archie, ‘I was being an Indian.’
‘He was making that silly noise with his hand,’ offered Lydia.
‘It’s a war-cry,’ said Archie and demonstrated.
‘Very authentic,’ said Felix, dryly. ‘Would you be so kind as to sit at the table again, Miss Falkner, so that you have the same view of the room as last time? And where was Mrs Hannah Falkner
?’
‘In that armchair,’ said Helen. ‘It hasn’t been moved. She had the footstool, though, for her leg.’
‘This one?’ said Felix.
‘Yes, and that little occasional table, for her things. It was on her right.’
‘Allow me,’ said Harry, placing them in position.
‘Thank you, Mr Falkner,’ said Felix. ‘Sergeant Nash, you are now Mrs Falkner. Go and sit in the armchair. Here are your chocolates. I should explain, ladies and gentlemen, that these are some that we brought with us. Quite harmless.’
There was some nervous comment as Nash got himself settled in the chair and put his leg up.
‘Other leg,’ corrected Lydia.
‘Sorry,’ said Nash.
‘Now then. Does everyone remember Mrs Falkner offering Alf Brown a chocolate?’
They all agree that they did.
‘She offered one to Florence first,’ said Harry, ‘but she refused it. Then she offered one to Alf.’
‘Where were they sitting?’
‘Florence was in that armchair and Alf was sitting on the arm.’
‘Like this?’
‘Yes.’
‘Anyone else get offered one?’
‘Not then, no.’
‘Good. And Archie, you were moving about the room. Where were you at that moment? Did you notice your grandma offering the chocolate?’
‘He must have done,’ said Lydia, ‘because he nudged her.’
‘No, I didn’t,’ said Archie. ‘She nudged me, because I was down by her chair and she didn’t see me. I did apologise.’
‘What side of the chair?’ said Felix.
‘The left side. You couldn’t get round the right side, because of her table and the fireplace.’
‘It didn’t stop her offering the chocolate anyway,’ said Helen. ‘Alf had to get up for it. He half stood up to reach it, said thank you and sat down again.’
‘He actually said, “Thank you, Hannah,”’ said Harry. ‘It was all a bit strained and formal because of what she’d said to Albert Little. We weren’t talking to her much.’
‘Right,’ said Felix. ‘Now we get to the important bit. How exactly did she offer the box to Mrs Gray and Mr Brown? What we want to know is, did she change hands at all, or turn the box around?’
There was silence while they considered this.
‘I don’t think she did,’ said Helen finally. ‘She had it in her left hand and she leant forward a bit, stretched out her arm and offered it.’
‘And then she took one herself,’ said Harry.
‘Good. And can you tell me, Mr Falkner, how she took her own chocolate, and where from?’
‘Well, with her right hand, obviously, but from the side of the box nearest her left hand. I particularly noticed that because she had to root under the covering paper for it.’
‘I never saw that,’ said Helen.
‘You probably weren’t far enough over,’ said Harry. ‘She definitely did. I wondered about it at the time.’
‘Because it seemed an odd thing to do, sir?’ said Rattigan, looking up from his note-taking.
‘Yes. Well, not so much odd. I assumed she wanted the sort Alf had just chosen, so she had to go to the other half of the box for it. I never knew she had a taste in chocolates.’
Felix turned to Nash. ‘Your moment in the limelight, Sergeant. Pick up the box from your table and open it as you would naturally. Does that look right, Mr Falkner? The others might not be able to see it, of course, because his back is directly to them.’
‘Yes, that’s right. With the lid opening away from her, like you would,’ agreed Harry. ‘Then holding its left-hand end in her left hand, she offered it.’
‘And then she bumped me, and said “oh!”’ said Archie, ‘and I said “Sorry, Grandma.” Nothing fell out or anything though.’
‘Right,’ said Felix. ‘Can I just confirm, then, that at no point, as far as you are all aware, did Mrs Falkner swop the box end for end while it was still open? She always had hold of the same end?’
‘Yes, she didn’t need to turn it round,’ said Harry, ‘because when she offered the box, it – the contents, I mean – would have been facing Alf and Florence.’
‘Like this?’ said Nash. He reached out with it and Felix, standing up, mimed taking a chocolate.
‘Yes. And as soon as Alf took the chocolate and she’d taken hers she closed the box.’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ said Helen. ‘Then she leant to her right, reached across herself and put the box back on the table with her left hand. At least, that’s what it looked like from the back. I wondered a bit why she didn’t offer one to the rest of us, but it might have been because we were behind her. I was sick of them by then anyway.’
‘It’s a surprise to me she offered one to anybody,’ said Harry, ‘she wasn’t the most generous of souls. And thank God she didn’t.’
‘That didn’t tell us much,’ said Rattigan as they regained their places round the table.
‘No, it didn’t,’ said Felix, ‘except that it’s hard to see where she made her mistake.’
‘Loaded the box wrongly?’
‘Possibly. However, a thought has occurred. Hannah was incapacitated. She’d have been hard-pressed to carry even a box of chocolates about if she was using two sticks. How did it get onto her table in the first place?’
‘Good point,’ said Rattigan. ‘One assumes one of the daughters put it there for her; although it could have been anyone, I suppose. It would be interesting to know who.’
‘Yes, it would. We’d best look into that.’
There was a knock at the door and Walter Bartlett came in. ‘Ah, Mr Bartlett,’ said Felix. ‘Thank you for coming, sir. The briefest of questions. Would Hannah Falkner have been legally able to prevent your sale of Arnold’s Farm to Alf Brown?’
Walter shook his head. ‘Not legally, no. However, we wouldn’t have gone ahead with it without her agreement. They had to be able to work with each other after all.’
‘That’s definite, is it?’
‘Absolutely. You must remember that I wouldn’t have profited financially from it in any way; it was just a transfer of title. In fact, it would have cost me legal fees. The only difference would have been that I’d have been free of responsibility for a property I had no use for and didn’t want, and so would Charles. I may still handle their tax accounts if they wish. I don’t mind doing that.’
◆◆◆
That night found Ethel Falkner leaning over the washbasin, removing cleansing cream at the rather awkwardly placed bathroom mirror, when she became aware of a presence. Swinging round, she found her sister, her arms folded, lounging against the door jamb.
‘You do realise you’re wasting your time, don’t you?’ said Lydia. ‘It’s me he loves, not you. And you ought to bolt the door properly. No-one wants to see you in your underwear.’
Still wiping off cream, Ethel turned angrily towards her. ‘And you are an odious little toad! I’ve had about enough of this, and so has Charles. I’m going to tell mother you’re being a pest. Now get out of here!’
‘If you do that,’ said Lydia nastily, ‘I’ll tell her where you spent half of Christmas night. Giving you his present, was he? I wonder what that could have been.’
‘It wasn’t “half the night,”’ said Ethel hotly, ‘I doubt it was half an hour. And it has absolutely nothing to do with you. Now clear off and let me finish in here.’
But instead, Lydia parked herself on the bathroom chair. ‘I don’t know why you bother frankly,’ she said conversationally, ‘You’re too old, dear. Don’t you realise that? In another nine years you’ll be thirty. Middle-aged! Your figure, such as it is, will be round your knees and you’ll get wrinkles. You’ve already got ridges at the backs of your thighs. Corrugated thighs!
They’re disgusting.’ She turned to glance behind her. ‘Charles, tell her! Tell her it’s me you love.’
At Charles’s arrival, Ethel gave a little squeak of embarrassment and crossed her arms over her chest. But with swift gallantry he snatched up her dressing-gown from the edge of the bath and held it for her to put on. ‘Lydia,’ he said sternly, ‘this has got to stop. I’m sure you’ll have much to offer some lucky young fellow when you grow up, but that, I’m afraid, is not yet. Kindly accept once and for all that I don’t love you and I don’t want you, and I’m never going to want you. I’m in love with your sister and I’m going to marry her. You’re making yourself look foolish and making us both unhappy. Now, do you want to use the bathroom after Ethel? Because if you don’t, I do.’
‘I’ve already been,’ said Lydia sulkily, and left them.
‘Are you really going to marry me?’ said Ethel, as he took her in his arms, ‘because you haven’t actually asked me yet, you know.’
‘No, I suppose I haven’t,’ said Charles. ‘Not in so many words anyway.’ Sitting her on the bathroom chair, he fell to one knee before her. ‘Ethel Falkner, we haven’t known each other very long but in that short time you have stolen my heart. Will you marry me?’
‘Yes, Charles, I will,’ smiled Ethel. ‘And I’ll remember this moment forever; it’s just so wonderfully romantic.’
‘And so shall I, my dear,’ said Charles. ‘You look so lovely in pink towelling.’ And picking up a blob of cleansing cream from the region of her ear, he stuck it on the end of her nose.
Chapter Fifteen
The next day, Felix caught Rosie in the hall. ‘Miss Falkner, good morning. A quick question if I may. Just to return to something we touched on when I interviewed you. If I remember rightly it was you who helped your mother wash and dress and bring her through to the dining room for breakfast on Boxing morning. Am I correct?’
‘Yes, Chief Inspector,’ said Rosie. ‘And afterwards I helped her into the parlour and settled her in her chair. She insisted on sticks so we left the cart in the dining room.’