‘We returned to the hotel together. I was worried about leaving my father by himself. I knew that awful Trimble woman would be bothering him and Mr Dewhurst was concerned for his … his sister.’
Rose gave the girl a candid look. ‘You know, of course, that Miss Dewhurst was nothing of the kind? By that I mean she was not really Mr Dewhurst’s sister.’
‘I didn’t know it then, that she wasn’t, and I am not sure that I believe it now.’ Mabel stuck out her bottom lip, very much in the manner of an obstinate child.
‘Miss Dewhurst is in point of fact the Duchess of Grismere. You must have heard of ‘The Disappearing Duchess’? It has been in all the newspapers.’
Mabel gave a brief and rather grudging nod.
‘And Alec Dewhurst was not really Alec Dewhurst,’ continued Rose, watching the girl closely. ‘His name was Alec Goodfellow and he was by way of being a petty thief.’
Mabel started violently. Rose thought her surprise appeared genuine. Certainly the words that followed suggested that it was.
‘I … I don’t believe you, not about him being a thief.’
This sentence was met with a resolute silence which merely seemed to alarm Mabel further. It was as if she were clutching at little bits of rope that were snapping and breaking in her fingers.
‘I suppose,’ she conceded finally, ‘that there might be some truth in what you say, about Miss Dewhurst not being his sister, I mean. I did rather wonder if she was. She was simply years older than Alec and I know he found her rather trying. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least to hear that he had grown bored with her.’ A defiant look came into her eyes. ‘But I don’t believe a word you say about Alec being a thief. Nothing will make me believe that.’
It seemed useless to argue the point. Instead Rose said: ‘Your father told you last night that Miss Dewhurst was the Duchess of Grismere, didn’t he? I think it would have been after you had returned to your rooms, following your walk with Mr Dewhurst. I daresay he was frightfully angry about that. You would have quarrelled.’
The colour left Mabel Adler’s cheeks and she blinked.
‘We didn’t argue as such, not until … He said he thought she might be the duchess,’ she replied in a dull voice, choosing her words with care. ‘But really he was not certain. He did not know quite what to believe. Miss Hyacinth is the most frightful gossip, you know. You always have to take what she says with a large pinch of salt. When Miss Dewhurst appeared at dinner he thought Miss Hyacinth had got it all wrong. Why she couldn’t have minded her own business, I don’t know.’
‘She cares about you,’ said Rose gently. ‘You might not realise it now, but she endeavoured to save your reputation.’
‘What do you mean?’ Mabel looked startled.
‘Mr Dewhurst asked you to elope with him to Athens, didn’t he? I daresay he told you that you’d be married there. Before you judge Miss Hyacinth too harshly, I think I should tell you that he was not the sort of man to marry anyone, and certainly not a girl without a fortune. I’m afraid he’d have thrown you over when he had no further use for you.’
Mabel Adler looked as if she had just been slapped. It occurred to Rose that no one had ever spoken to her so bluntly. Had Rose not been her social superior, she did not doubt for a moment that the girl would have got up and marched out of the room. As it was, she muttered in a voice hardly above a whisper: ‘How dare you? How can you be so cruel?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Rose. ‘But it needs to be said. I daresay that at this moment you hate me like poison. I know I should if I were you, but in time I believe you will accept that what I have told you is the truth. Now,’ she said, keen to progress the interview, ‘you suggested just now that you and your father did in fact argue. When precisely was that? Was it, by any chance, when he intercepted Mr Dewhurst’s note to you?’
Rose produced from her pocket the slip of paper she had located in the base of the Wee Willie Winkie candlestick in Father Adler’s room and laid it out on the hotel proprietor’s desk.
Mabel bent forward and studied the note. If she was minded to protest at their having read it, she thought better of it. In fact, the girl appeared quite resigned and not a little exhausted. It was quite possible that she had not slept very much the previous night, if at all. Certainly she seemed to wilt before them. All the fight in her appeared to have deserted her. She bowed her head and rubbed her swollen eyes with a hand that trembled.
‘Alec gave the note to a servant and instructed him to deliver it into my own hands. At least, that is what he said he was going to do. I suppose the servant didn’t listen. Or perhaps he didn’t understand. Either way, he gave it to my father instead of to me. Of course,’ she said with a note of indignation, ‘he shouldn’t have read it; my father, I mean. It was addressed to me, but he recognised that it was written in Alec’s hand.’
‘And you quarrelled?’
‘He came marching into my room and found me packing.’ She shuddered. ‘We had the most almighty row. I have never seen my father so angry. I daresay you think I always get my way and I suppose usually I do. I know Miss Hyacinth thinks I wrap my father around my little finger; I’ve heard her say as much to Lady Lavinia.’
‘But last night he stood his ground?’
Mabel gave a bitter little smile. ‘I should say he did! He read me the riot act, as one might say. I … I was quite frightened. I have never known him be like that. He raised his voice to me. He said …’ she stopped abruptly in the middle of her sentence. Her hand flew up to her mouth, as if she wished to retract the words.
‘Yes?’ said Rose. ‘What did your father say?’
‘I don’t want to tell you. You … you can’t make me.’ Mabel sounded very much like the obstinate, spoilt child again. Rose decided to handle her precisely as if she were a wilful infant.
‘It really won’t do, Miss Adler. You may sulk and pout all you like, but in the end you will have to tell us what he said. It will be much better for you and your father if you do.’ Rose paused a moment, aware that this might not necessarily be true if the vicar was guilty of Alec Dewhurst’s murder. ‘What did your father say he would do?’
‘He said that he was going to find Alec and have it out with him,’ Mabel sobbed. ‘He said it would be much better for Alec if he didn’t find him; that if he did, he didn’t know quite what he’d do. He said that in all likelihood he’d swing for him.’
‘Well,’ said Mr Kettering, as soon as the door had closed behind a tearful Mabel, ‘that was a very good act, I must say. Miss Adler is quite an accomplished little actress.’
‘You didn’t believe she was speaking the truth?’ said Rose. She remembered the concerned manner in which the hotel proprietor had urged Mabel Adler to take a seat before she fainted, and the way in which the girl had responded by giving him a filthy look when he had suggested that she had killed Alec Dewhurst by accident.
‘Not a word, though she was quite convincing,’ said Mr Kettering. ‘I’ll give her that. Creeping in here all meek and red-eyed and then turning the tables on her father, while all the time pretending it was the last thing in the world she wanted to do.’
To Rose’s mind, the girl had appeared sincere. She said, with little conviction: ‘I suppose it is just possible that Miss Adler and Mr Dewhurst argued at the cliff edge.’
In truth, she could not imagine Mabel Adler killing the young man. The girl who had run hand in hand with Alec Dewhurst to the cliff edge had been full of high spirits. She had giggled and skipped. Indeed, the two young people had not seemed in the mood for argument, certainly not to enter into a quarrel that would result in one of their party’s violent death.
The hotel proprietor, however, was not to be deterred. ‘Miss Adler might have slipped out later to warn him that her father had intercepted the note,’ he said, picking up the scrap of paper from the desk. ‘It says here that they should meet at the usual place. That may well have referred to the cliff. I daresay Father Adler did not know where his d
aughter and Dewhurst were in the habit of meeting. If he were minded to confront Dewhurst, as Miss Adler told us, he would in all probability have gone to Dewhurst’s rooms. That would have given Miss Adler the opportunity to slip out and go to the cliff to warn Alec Dewhurst that her father was aware of their plans and meant to put a stop to them.’
‘Yes, but that supposes Mr Dewhurst had gone back to the cliff edge,’ said Rose. ‘Why would he be there at that particular time? It would have been too early. This slip of paper indicates that Mabel and Alec were to meet at one o’clock in the morning. If the vicar intercepted this note, it must have been delivered at a much earlier hour. According to Mabel Adler, he proceeded directly to her room to confront her and found her packing. I would therefore be very surprised if it was much after half past eleven when they had their quarrel.’
Well,’ said Mr Kettering, reluctant to relinquish his theory, ‘just for argument’s sake, let’s suppose Alec Dewhurst did return to the coastal path. It is quite possible he wished to collect his thoughts and considered it as good a place as any. Miss Adler found him there and they quarrelled. If he thought the vicar was going to cut up rough, he might well have blamed Miss Adler. A fellow like that would want to cut his losses. He would most probably have told her that he wanted no more to do with her and a girl with Miss Adler’s disposition would have been frightfully upset.’
‘If they did quarrel, as you suggest,’ said Rose, ‘I think it far more likely that they rowed about Miss Dewhurst. If you recall, Miss Adler had just made the discovery that Miss Dewhurst was not Alec Dewhurst’s sister. It would have been a dreadful shock to her. It is quite natural that she would have questioned Mr Dewhurst’s motives for deceiving her and thought the worst.’
Mr Kettering said: ‘So we can make out a pretty good case against Miss Adler?’
Rose wondered if that was in fact true. She could picture the girl’s distress well enough, for it had been evident during the interview. Indeed, beneath the soft, pretty surface she thought she had glimpsed flashes of the necessary steel required in a person’s composition to enable them to undertake such a ghastly deed as murder. Mabel Adler was used to getting her own way. How would a girl like that deal with being thwarted or deceived? As these thoughts passed through her mind, a picture appeared before her eyes unbidden of Mabel, consumed by rage, wielding a heavy object at Alec Dewhurst’s head, all the while tears pouring down her face.
Chapter Twenty-six
Father Adler entered the hotel proprietor’s study with a degree of sombre dignity as befitted a member of the clergy. Death was not a foreign environment for him. His chosen profession necessitated that he visit the sick and the dying. Indeed, it seemed to him that he was often negotiating the various paths associated with death. He sat beside sickbeds and presided over funerals. He was fully accustomed to death, therefore, but a deliberate, violent killing was beyond the ordinary course of his experience. He was visibly shaken by the recent turn of events. In the dining room he had seemed both withdrawn and aloof. In Mr Kettering’s study, in contrast, he was inclined to be verbose, giving voice to the most typical expressions of disbelief as were usually uttered in such circumstances.
‘A shocking affair … a perfectly appalling business … a most dreadful thing to have happened …very distressing for all concerned.’ The banal phrases tripped off the vicar’s tongue. Rose thought that, with very little encouragement, he might be persuaded to continue with his platitudes until he had quite exhausted his considerable supply. In fact, she was rather of the opinion that he wished to do so, that anything was preferable to being asked questions of a distasteful nature concerning Alec Dewhurst’s death.
Father Adler had not been given an opportunity to consult with his daughter. He had been unable to ascertain what information she had disclosed during her interview. Rose thought it quite probable that the vicar realised this was intentional, that she had gone to considerable pains to ensure that Mabel did not return to the Adlers’ rooms until her father had vacated them. Their paths had not crossed and she knew the vicar had no doubt been left in an awful ignorance. He would be forced to resort to conjecture, a state of affairs which clearly had him rattled.
‘My daughter is bearing up very well, all things considered,’ he had said quickly, as if he thought it expected of him. ‘It has been a dreadful shock for her, as it has for me, of course, what with Mr Dewhurst being in the habit of joining us for meals and the occasional excursion.’
Rose did not speak, thinking it better to remain silent and see where Father Adler’s words would lead him.
‘How odd it feels to think that only yesterday I was watching him play a game of tennis with my daughter.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Poor Mabel. She considered him a friend, you know, your ladyship,’ the vicar continued. He was apparently of the opinion that it was far better that he raise the subject of his daughter’s affection for the murdered man before Lady Belvedere alluded to it. ‘Of course, there was no harm in it. She simply could not bear the idea of the young man eating alone –’
‘In that case, I am surprised she did not suggest to Mr Thurlow that Mr Dewhurst join him at his table.’
‘Ah,’ said Father Adler, looking a little flustered. ‘An excellent suggestion, of course, your ladyship, but I believe there had been a little … a little falling out between my daughter and Mr Thurlow. Of course, in the ordinary course of events it would have come to nothing, but unfortunately –’
‘Miss Adler became rather taken with Mr Dewhurst?’ Rose suggested, rather abruptly, eager to progress the interview.
‘Quite so. It was … well, it was most unfortunate. I have always considered Mr Thurlow to be a thoroughly good fellow. I’m sure you know the sort, Lady Belvedere? Reliable and pleasant looking without being very remarkable. Mr Dewhurst, on the other hand, though admittedly quite charming was, in my opinion, rather too handsome for his own good. I’m afraid I never took to Mr Dewhurst. I didn’t trust the fellow.’ He gave Rose a rueful smile. ‘Not very Christian of me, I admit, your ladyship, to speak ill of the dead.’
Rose wondered how much of the vicar’s view of Alec Dewhurst had been clouded by hindsight. It was tempting to pursue the matter. She thought it quite possible, however, that Father Adler, with his simple, unaffected ways, had never felt quite comfortable in the presence of Alex Dewhurst, with his façade of sophistication. Ron Thurlow was much more his type; if nothing else, the vicar could feel tolerably certain of the sincerity of that gentleman’s regards towards his daughter.
‘I understand that Miss Adler was under the mistaken impression that the Duchess of Grismere was Mr Dewhurst’s sister?’ said Rose lightly, keen to evoke a reaction from the temperate clergyman.
Father Adler winced at the mention of the duchess’ name. ‘We both were,’ he said quietly.
Mr Kettering took that moment to look up from his pocketbook and bestow on the vicar a particularly cynical look. Father Adler responded by blinking rapidly and adopting something of a defensive stand.
‘We had no reason to suspect otherwise,’ he said, a trifle piqued, directing his remarks to the hotel proprietor. How much easier it was to address a man of business than to speak of such delicate matters to a countess of tender years. ‘Mr Dewhurst appeared to be a most charming young man. I don’t doubt that you thought the same yourself, Kettering, when you first made his acquaintance?’ He leaned forward and addressed his next remarks exclusively to Rose. ‘His manners, you know, your ladyship,’ he said, speaking rather apologetically, ‘were most agreeable and Mr Dewhurst was really very interested in my sermons.’ He sighed. ‘So few people are these days. One tries one’s best, of course, but …’
Father Adler did not bother to finish his sentence. He had reverted to his usual gentle demeanour of absent-mindedness. Rose was aware that she must shake him from the safety of his vagueness, for she needed him to be attentive. The man before her appeared remarkably quiet and unassuming, and yet she remembered Mabel telling h
er only half an hour before, in this very room, that her father had been out of character the previous night. Indeed, if she remembered the words the girl had used, she had never witnessed him be so angry. What was more, if one were to believe his daughter, the vicar had threatened violence against Alec Dewhurst. It certainly could not be disputed that shortly afterwards the young man had met with a particularly violent death. Rose shuddered. Had she not been warned by a schoolmistress that it was the quiet ones one had to watch? It was the loud ones that were full of harmless bluster.
‘I think I ought to tell you, Father Adler, that we are in possession of this note,’ she said, handing him the scrap of paper she had shown Mabel Adler earlier. ‘It was found in your room. It refers to an assignation arranged between the deceased and your daughter.’ She held up her hand as the vicar made vague and ineffectual attempts to protest. ‘The truth has a way of coming out in the end, you know. We only want the facts. If you and your daughter are innocent, you have nothing to fear. Besides, Miss Adler has already told us that you intercepted this note and confronted her in connection with its contents.’
‘What is more,’ piped up Mr Kettering from the depths of his pocketbook, ‘your daughter informed us, Father Adler, that, when you went to speak to her, you found her in the advanced stages of packing.’
Father Adler stared at them, clearly mortified by the extent of their intelligence.
‘It does no good to protest, I can assure you,’ continued Mr Kettering, on a roll. His manner was distinctly condescending. ‘We know what happened. You gave Miss Adler a piece of your mind. You spoke to her in no uncertain terms concerning her fondness for Mr Dewhurst. You informed her that the woman purporting to be his sister was in fact his lover, the Duchess of Grismere!’
There was a shocked and awkward silence that lasted a few seconds.
‘I am ashamed to say,’ said Father Adler at last, rather mournfully, ‘I was inclined to take what Miss Hyacinth Trimble told me with a large pinch of salt. In my profession it does not do to be seen listening to what one terms as ‘village gossip’. I have developed something of a knack of only half listening to such things, as it were, and focusing my mind instead on something more constructive. But I had heard enough and, when I read the note, my suspicions were naturally aroused. And then when I found my daughter packing …’ he faltered, recalling the awful scene that had followed. ‘I suppose it could be said I gave my daughter a pretty severe scolding. I really don’t remember quite what I said, but Mabel … she accused me of lying,’ he mumbled, staring into the middle distance. ‘My own daughter! I tried to reason with her, but she refused to listen. I … I couldn’t believe a thing like that possible, not with my Mabel. And to discover that she intended to elope with that scoundrel Dewhurst –’
Murder on Skiathos Page 25
