“Nothing more about the drowned man, his crime?”
Kyrioudis shook his head. “Pressing him will only make him clam up. We had better leave.”
He handed the old man the bottle and gave the young man a sign to take him back up. He turned to Jasper. “So now you know the old woman visited the grave of a killer. She herself dies a violent death. Can the two be connected? I don’t think so. This happened many years ago.”
“Did he say how many?”
“Yes. Twenty-five.” Kyrioudis tutted. “It’s a long time to remember things clearly. I think it’s likely he was adorning his story. The young man might have fallen off the cliffs and his corpse washed up on the beach. Because he was unknown here, he was buried without a tombstone. That is all there is to it.”
“And this story he was a killer? A fabrication?” Jasper shook his head. “No, it can’t be a coincidence that the woman who died on the beach visited the grave of a young man who died in the sea while he fled a mob pursuing him for murder.”
Kyrioudis sighed. “So, another murder you want to look into? One committed decades ago? I wish I had not asked you to do this investigation. Instead of smoothing things over, you’re only digging up more dirt.”
“I’m trying to protect a young Englishwoman under the suspicion of murder.” Jasper glanced at his companion. “And now that I’ve heard this I feel it’s even more necessary than before. People on this island seem very capable of violence when they feel they have a right to commit it.”
* * *
As he didn’t feel comfortable using the telephone at the hotel reception, knowing Medea’s command of English was good enough to follow every word said, Jasper went to the harbour where an eatery had a phone as well. It was attached to the wall and he had to stand at it, keeping a finger in one ear to drown out the noise of the diners, and listen carefully with the other to what was said on the other end of the line. He was told Mr Fennick was a little better and might be able to speak to him. There was a pause as the receptionist connected him with Fennick’s room. Jasper was just wondering whether he had lost the connection when a brisk female voice came on the line and told him Mr Fennick was too weak to speak for long.
Probably the hired nurse. Jasper assured her he wouldn’t tire the patient and then a rustle indicated the receiver was handed over. A weary voice said, “Fennick speaking.’
Jasper explained who he was and asked the lawyer what he could tell him about the trust left to Mrs Ramsforth.
Fennick was reluctant to share anything at first, claiming client confidentiality, but when he heard that he was at liberty to contact a Mr Kyrioudis to verify Jasper’s involvement with Mrs Ramsforth’s affairs, he sighed and said, “Mr Kyrioudis has already been to my hotel to speak to me.”
Jasper was stunned. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I was too unwell to see him so he went away again. But the hotel manager told me this morning that he’s an influential man and I should not snub him. I had no intention to, I was just ill.”
Fennick sounded indignant, and Jasper rushed to say he understood Mr Fennick’s position: taken ill in a foreign country when merely wanting to do his very best to serve his client’s interests.
Fennick sighed and said, “I don’t know all that much about it, really. Just that Mrs Ramsforth was to have control of the money as she turned thirty or married, whichever came first.”
“But who left this money to her?”
“Her parents. They died when she was still quite young and this arrangement was made.”
“Does it concern a lot of money?”
“Half a million pounds.”
“What?” Jasper clenched the receiver. No wonder Teddy Ramsforth had been opening the champagne. He had suddenly struck it rich. The simple, poor girl he had married had turned out to be an heiress to a vast fortune.
“Can her husband have known about this when he married her?” Jasper asked.
“No. That’s not possible. Nobody knew about it.”
“Still, it’s very coincidental that he needs money and then marries her, after a whirlwind romance, and she gets all this money because she married.’
“I tell you he cannot have known about it due to the arrangements for the trust fund. Whether he can have known about it any other way I cannot tell. Her parents died when she was just four years old so these arrangements were made twenty-five years ago.”
Twenty-five years ago, Jasper thought. The same time as when the corpse washed up on the beach. He sucked in air. Was it possible that…
Her father? A killer?
She a killer as well? Genetic?
He asked, “Had her parents ever been to Greece? To this island, where Mrs Ramsforth is staying now?”
“I don’t see what it has to do with her fund.” Fennick sounded sharp. “I only answered your questions because I don’t wish to cause trouble for anyone. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to lie down again. I still feel quite dizzy.”
“Is there someone who can tell me more about Mrs Ramsforth’s parents? Can you put me in touch with them?”
But the lawyer had already disconnected.
Jasper sighed. He put the receiver back in place and went to the counter to pay for the call. The proprietor tried to talk him into having a drink and a plate with snacks, but Jasper said another time and left the building. It was unfortunate he didn’t know more about Mrs Ramsforth’s aunt who had raised her, so he could contact her to learn more about the parents.
“Inspector!” Medea ran to him, her eyes wide. “There you are! You must come to the hotel at once. Mrs Ramsforth had a breakdown. She started screaming and then she ran away. We don’t know where she is.”
Jasper broke into a run after the girl.
Chapter Twelve
“It’s all your fault!” Teddy pointed at Jasper. “You put all these thoughts into her head.”
“What thoughts?” Jasper asked.
“That she hadn’t imagined the skull. That someone was after her.” Teddy paced the lobby. “Now she ran off to who knows where. She might hurt herself.”
And if she hurts herself and she dies, I’m left with nothing. That was not the plan.
Jasper said, “I never said someone was after her, Mr Ramsforth. I merely saw the skull on the bed. I told her to put her mind at ease that she wasn’t imagining things.”
“Hallucinating, you mean. I think we can safely say that she is.” Teddy gestured wildly. “As soon as she’s found, she must be put into the care of a certified doctor for the mentally disturbed.”
“Mrs Ramsforth is not crazy,” Jasper said.
Teddy halted and looked at him. “And how do you know that? You don’t.”
He waited a few seconds and then added, “You don’t and I don’t. I wonder whom I married. A mad woman?”
“You jump to conclusions.”
“Really? I told you before I hardly knew her before I married her. Then I discovered her mood swings and…” Teddy grabbed at his head. “Can I even trust her not to kill me?”
“You didn’t mind taking her money,” Jasper said.
Teddy froze. Something inside told him he had to be very careful now, but he also couldn’t just change his tune. So he hissed, “What are you talking about?”
“The money she will lend you for your business endeavour with Mr Hawtree. How convenient she could provide it just when you needed it.” Jasper closed in on him. “Did you know she was going to get it upon her marriage?”
Teddy shook his head. “How could I know? She herself didn’t know about it.”
Jasper eyed him with a cold look, much like a snake stares at its prey.
Teddy didn’t move, didn’t even dare blink. Stare him down, he said to himself, stare him down. You’ve got nothing to hide.
Jasper said, “I assure you, Mr Ramsforth, that if I can prove any kind of connection by which you learned about her fortune before you married her, that I will also prove that you conspired to make her look i
nsane so you could take control of this money. That the beetles in the bedroom, the skull on the pillow, were all your doing. Perhaps you even put her hand on the knife after you stabbed the old woman on the beach?”
Teddy laughed. “This is ludicrous. I did no such thing. I was at the cafe waiting for her to return. I waited for at least ten minutes. Then I looked for her inside and around the cafe. That took time. I came upon her on the beach after you had already found her. I was nowhere near the scene before that.”
“If you say so.”
Teddy leaned over to the inspector. “You have some nerve. Do you actually want to say I would go so far as to lure my own wife to the scene of a murder to incriminate her?”
“She can’t remember how she got there. That does make her look unbalanced. Exactly what you want. If you get her declared unfit to control her fortune, you as her husband can then ask to be assigned to control it for her.”
Teddy fell silent and licked his lips. He could hear Robin’s voice taunt him that he was always handling everything in the wrong way. He bet that if she had been here she would have known how to handle the inspector.
But he didn’t.
Deep inside him a little voice nagged that it had gone too far. That he should never ever have let himself become a part of this. That it would end badly. Not just for Damaris, but also for him.
He straightened up and said, “Believe what you want, Inspector. You just said you’d have to prove a connection between me and the fortune, proving I had knowledge of it before I married her. You know as well as I do you can prove no such thing.”
Jasper held his gaze. “Because there is no such connection? Or because it’s so cleverly hidden away you think I will never find it?”
Teddy’s heart stopped a moment, then thundered on. He forced a smile. “We’re wasting time, talking, while we should be out looking for Damaris. Who knows what happened to her?”
Jasper narrowed his eyes. “This breakdown she had, were you present when it happened?”
“No. She was in our hotel room to get some things together. She wanted to stay with the Murrays because they are taking such good care of her.”
Teddy felt bitterness well up inside him again. She had chosen against him soon enough. How much had her claims of love meant?
“She suddenly ran out screaming and fled. I don’t know what got into her. The only thing I can think of is that she’s suffering from mental delusions.”
“I saw the skull, Mr Ramsforth. And I believe the beetles were real, as well. Someone did target your wife.”
“What for?”
“I don’t know yet. But I intend to find out.”
* * *
Amaranth Dupin was about to decide that the blue of the sea on his painting could do with a touch more of white to lighten it when he heard running footfalls behind him. Turning his head, he saw Damaris Ramsforth staggering along the path. Her dress was torn and dirty, her hair falling free around her shoulders. She held her hands out in front of her as if feeling her way. The palms were cut and bleeding.
He got up and rushed over to her. “Mrs Ramsforth.”
She looked up at him, panic screaming from her eyes. “She’s dead! She’s dead!”
“Calm down.” He took her by her shoulders. “Take a deep breath. That’s right. Now another.”
She kept looking at him like he was a lifeline while the tide of her hysteria carried her out.
He squeezed her shoulders. “Breathe. That’s it. Lack of oxygen makes people do funny things.”
He pulled her with him and forced her to sit in the grass at his feet. He looked at her as she sat motionless, a sculpture of infinite beauty. He actually liked her dishevelled state. It made her less perfect. More vulnerable and real.
She began to tear out stems of grass with jerky, nervous gestures. Should he get her a glass of water, or something stronger?
“I knew when I stood in the room.” Her voice was low and monotonous. “That it had been different before. Half open. I could see the sunshine come in as it had been. I looked at it, the sunshine on the tiles. It wasn’t really there, but still it seemed to be there as clearly as if it was. I could even feel the wind on my face. A warm breeze. I turned and I looked at the door. But there was no door then. Just her body. And the man leaned over it. He looked up and I saw his face. It was a young face. It was clean shaven. It was staring at me like a frightened deer. He was afraid.”
She kept tearing at the grass. “I looked at his hands. They were full of blood. I screamed. I screamed.”
She jerked her head up at him. “I screamed and I ran away.”
“That was sensible if there was blood.” Dupin held her gaze. “Did it happen at the hotel? Should I go there to tell them someone had an accident?”
She shook her head. “No accident. She’s dead.”
“Who’s dead? The woman who looked after you?”
She shook her head again. “Younger. More beautiful.”
Dupin considered the situation. He had to let someone know she was here. But he didn’t want to leave her in her shocked state of mind. Could he persuade her to go back with him?
He said, “We must go back to the hotel, Mrs Ramsforth. I’ve got a donkey. You need not walk.” He smiled at her. “How would you like to ride a donkey?”
She looked at him without seeing him, her eyes vacant, her expression dull. He rose to his feet and reached out to her to help her up. He wasn’t leaving her alone for a single moment. “Come with me to the stable so we can fetch the donkey. I’m sure you’ll like him. He’s very soft.”
Mrs Ramsforth let him guide her without resisting. Holding her, he felt like he was just holding an empty shell, from which the spirit, the soul, the essence, had escaped.
* * *
Jasper’s anger at Teddy Ramsforth goaded him as he looked for the young man’s missing wife. He was certain the chap knew a lot more than he was willing to tell and the idea that he had set up his wife to think she was losing her mind, to get his hands on her money, was so repulsive he wanted to smack the fellow on his arrogant face.
But he reminded himself that he didn’t have proof yet: proof that Ramsforth had known about the fortune when he had married the girl, proof that he had put the beetles and the skull in the hotel room to scare her. Proof that he had set up the murder on the beach.
During his years at Scotland Yard Jasper had handled manipulation for the sake of money, but he had never seen a case where someone was willing to go this far. To take a life just to get another committed to an insane asylum?
A niggling bit of doubt told him that there was more to it than he could now see, but what he had found out so far was so puzzling he didn’t want to suspect more. How could he ever solve this if no one was telling him anything?
And his own translator lied.
Kyrioudis hadn’t told him everything the old man Petros had said. Jasper was certain of that, but he couldn’t prove it, of course.
Jasper exhaled in frustration. He couldn’t prove a thing. He was just rowing around in the mud.
There. In the distance. A man leading a donkey by the reins, and on its back…
“Mrs Ramsforth!” Jasper ran up to the trio. “How are you?”
As he saw her empty eyes, he focused on the man leading the donkey. “And you are?”
“Amaranth Dupin. I’m an artist.”
Jasper narrowed his eyes. “You’re the one who was to deliver the commissioned painting to the hotel for Mr and Mrs Ramsforth’s honeymoon suite?”
“Yes.” The man’s expression was open and unsuspecting. Could he be her secret lover? Had she run to him on purpose, hiding with someone she trusted?
Jasper kept his eyes on Dupin’s features as he said carefully, “Mr Ramsforth mentioned you to me. He seems to think you know Mrs Ramsforth a little better.”
Dupin scoffed. “Excuse me? I showed her a lemon orchard after she came across me in the suite, measuring the space for my painting. That’
s all. I was just being friendly to someone who was staying here. It’s a beautiful island.’
“Where murder occurs. You must have heard about it.”
“Yes, Mrs Ramsforth just told me. A death at the hotel. A beautiful young woman.’
Jasper froze. “What? At the hotel?”
“Yes. She saw it happen, that’s why she ran.”
Jasper shook his head. “I came from the hotel. There was no murder there.”
Dupin look surprised. “She told me. She was in a panic.” He looked back at the silent form astride the donkey. “I don’t think she made it up. She was genuinely very afraid.”
“What exactly did she tell you?”
Dupin thought a moment. “That a woman was dead at the hotel. She said she saw her lying, from the room. There was a man standing over her. He looked up at her. He was young and afraid. She screamed and then she ran.”
Jasper stared at Dupin. Part of what he told him echoed what Petros had told about the killing twenty-five years ago. A young man leaned across a woman’s body, a witness seeing him and screaming.
Damaris Ramsforth? A witness in an earlier murder on this island?
It changed the whole picture.
“I didn’t want to leave her alone,” Dupin said, “so I decided I would take her along on the donkey. She can barely walk. She hurt herself somehow.” He frowned. “I can’t believe she made up a story. She believed what she saw. It made her run, and she fell or stumbled, opening up her hands.”
“People can believe delusions are real.”
“Is she deluded then?” Dupin glanced back at her again. “Poor girl.”
“How long have you been living on this island, Mr Dupin?”
“I’m only spending the summers here. In winter I’m on the mainland.’
“Were you here twenty-five years ago, in the summer?”
“Hard to say. I was an art student then. I might have been in Athens for a while, or even with friends on Crete or Cyprus.”
Honeymoon with Death Page 12
