Death and the Dutiful Daughter

by Anne Morice

  Robin said thoughtfully: ‘So what it comes to is that there have been two separate attempts on Betsy’s life, neither of which succeeded. First of all the wrong person drinks the poisoned milk and then the wrong person falls off the balcony. We’ve got a singularly inefficient murderer on our hands, haven’t we?’

  ‘Not necessarily. It’s the hazard that comes from operating by remote control. Fate steps in, as you might say.’

  ‘Very well; leaving aside the method, which seems to have been extremely slapdash, what about motive? Who chiefly stood to gain by Betsy’s death?’

  ‘Well, that’s the crux, isn’t it? There’s Jasper, of course. He’s obviously bored and irritated half to death by her sometimes, but they’ve been married for over twenty years and they probably suit each other pretty well. The truth is, he’s on a good wicket with Betsy. She gives into him all along the line, worships the ground he treads on and never utters a word of criticism. I don’t know whether she minds secretly about his rudeness and his infidelities and so on, but outwardly she positively encourages him to go his own sweet way. All in all, he’d be much worse off without her.’

  ‘Except financially, of course. She’s now a very rich woman.’

  ‘Oh, I know, but whatever money she owns would be his for the asking. And if it was the loot he was after, Betsy dying before her mother would have done him no good at all. I don’t know how much she was worth in her own right, but I bet it wasn’t a quarter of what she’s inherited now.’

  ‘Whereas, if Betsy had pre-deceased Maud, which seems to have been the plan, Margot would have had most to gain, with Piers and Digby coming in next and Dickie and Sophie about halfway down the batting order. Though personally I’d be rather inclined to discount those two entirely. I can’t really see old Dickie going in for anything so ill bred as murder, and although Sophie wasn’t too bright, she would hardly have been idiotic enough to lean on a balcony which she had personally rendered unsafe.’

  ‘No, but she might have been witness to something connected with the poisoned milk, which made her a danger to the murderer. Even if he didn’t originally set up the balcony trap for her, he might have snatched the opportunity of using it, when by an unforeseen chance she was alone in Betsy’s bedroom.’

  ‘Enticed her on to the balcony and then persuaded her to lean over? It would have presented quite a problem.’

  ‘Not an insoluble one though, Robin. He could have made any old excuse to get her out there, then manoeuvred her into the right spot, applied the quick shove and over she’d have gone. She was pretty frail and feeble at the best of times.’

  ‘It would be quite a help to know which, if any of them, knew in advance about the terms of the will. So far as one could tell, they were all completely flabbergasted but one shouldn’t count too heavily on appearances with that bunch.’

  ‘I know,’ I agreed sadly. ‘I’ve got Toby working on that very point, but I doubt if he’ll come up with anything. The trouble is, I have a feeling that what evidence there was has now been destroyed.’

  ‘Evidence?’

  ‘On the recording tapes. Betsy must have known or guessed that one of them was red hot, because she locked them away in her wardrobe. But somebody forced it open and presumably removed at least one of them. She’s posted the rest to Gerald Pettigrew now, but that’s a case of shutting the stable door if ever I heard one.’

  ‘I don’t see the purpose of removing the tape, though. I suppose you’re implying that it contained a record of the interview Maud had with Pettigrew when they discussed the terms of the will he’d brought down for her to sign?’

  ‘Right. Betsy told me her mother was crazy about that machine. It was one of the few toys that she didn’t grow bored with. Don’t you think she’d be liable, in her rather fuddled state, to leave it running whether she was speaking into it or not? If somebody had played it back afterwards, he would have known all about Betsy inheriting. Dr Macintosh had warned them that Maud might pop off at any moment, so there was no time to work on her to revoke the will. The best hope lay in bumping off the chief beneficiary.’

  ‘Nevertheless, it was still unnecessary to steal the recording. It might have told the murderer what he needed to know, but it wouldn’t have given his identity away to anyone else.’

  ‘Unless his voice was on the tape as well. How about that, Robin? Supposing he had gone into Maudie’s room when Gerald left, having overheard part of their conversation, and spoken to her. At this point he has no idea that the machine is switched on but later he realises that it was and that it would be a dead give-away to anyone who played it back.’

  ‘Well, that puts Jasper on the spot again. Wasn’t it established that the rest of them didn’t arrive until after Gerald had gone back to London, and that Betsy was out at a meeting during his visit?’

  ‘Yes, but it doesn’t have to be true. Digby was supposed to have been at some folk music festival, but that must be about the hardest alibi of all to crack. And one of the others could have left the race-meeting for a while, pretending afterwards to have been in one of the other enclosures. It’s not more than half an hour’s drive from Newbury. Betsy was safely off the premises and if Jasper is speaking the truth he was out on the river all day. So no one need have known if one of the others had turned tip, perhaps for some quite innocent purpose, although afterwards he’d have had the best of reasons for keeping quiet about it.’

  ‘Albert might know.’

  ‘Yes, he might, but I have to tread warily there. I have a feeling that Albert is involved in something shady, and Betsy, for some reason best known to herself, is shielding him.’

  I repeated the story of Maud’s jewellery and Robin said:

  ‘I suppose Albert knew about the safe in the linen cupboard?’

  ‘We all did, including Albert’s wife. We were always being chivvied off there to fetch her this and that. It was only designed as a precaution against burglars from outside. Anyone inside the house could have helped himself whenever he chose.’

  ‘And you think that’s what this pair have been doing?’

  ‘It’s more logical than the story of her taking off with the tobacconist, don’t you think? That strikes me as distinctly far-fetched, specially as I now have grounds for believing that she’s not in Devonshire at all. Also it would account for Albert going to pieces like he has. What he’s suffering from, in my opinion, is not grief but fright.’

  ‘Because he thinks the game may be up?’

  ‘Specially now that he’s inherited this whacking great legacy. Even assuming that he had disposed of the jewellery and stashed the money away in Belgium, it wouldn’t be worth a quarter of that tax free two thousand a year. I don’t suppose that in fact Maud would have prosecuted, but if she’d found out that Albert was fleecing her, she’d have had Gerald down there in a specially chartered helicopter, wheel chair and all, to cut him out of her will.’

  ‘And the most likely way of Maud finding out was through Betsy?’

  ‘So Albert might have reasoned, and furthermore he had the best opportunity of all for dosing the milk. Anyone could have done that, actually, because it was always left standing in the pantry from dinner-time onwards; but all the same, filling it was his job and he was jolly quick off the mark in washing it out before anyone had time to examine the contents. He also had the best opportunity for sawing through the balcony posts.’

  ‘And you’re still convinced that both attempts were directed at Betsy?’

  ‘Well, isn’t it obvious, Robin?’

  ‘Not entirely. I can see someone might have wished it to appear like that, and I can also see how that same person wouldn’t have genuinely wanted either attempt to succeed, which in a sense they didn’t, even though two people have died.’

  ‘What are you driving at?’

  ‘Well, take the episode of the milk, for a start. I’ll accept that it would have contained something dangerous enough to kill Maud, but it wouldn’t have taken much to do that,
in the state she was in. Also she doubtless took it in combination with other drugs, which could have made it that much more lethal. But would it really have worked on a strong woman like Betsy? Isn’t it more likely that someone was out to create the impression that an attempt had been made on Betsy’s life, but in fact took good care to ensure that the dose was only strong enough to make her slightly ill?’

  ‘There’s no telling what effect it would have had if she’d drunk the lot. She claims that she wouldn’t have noticed anything wrong with the taste because of that malty stuff she always mixed into it; so presumably it could have been a fatal dose, even to someone in normal health. But are you really hinting what I think you are, Robin? If so . . .’

  The protest which had sprung to my lips had to spring backwards again because there was an interruption. Robin had made a warning gesture towards the door, to indicate that Toby had returned, and unfortunately he was not alone.

  (ii)

  It was true that her hair was snowy white and another distinctive feature was her voice, which trilled up and down the scale with no particular application to what she was saying, sometimes fluting out into a little-girl treble, at others descending to a throaty saloon-bar gurgle. Although plump and fortyish, she had a flirtatious manner and baby blue eyes which she used in rather an arch way and I could see why Toby lived in terror of her.

  ‘Oh, he’s a terrible old grump, that cousin of yours,’ she announced, patting the sofa as an invitation to seat myself beside her. ‘The trouble I have with him, you’d never believe! Now, this is specially between you and I, Tessa. I may call you Tessa, mayn’t I?’

  ‘Oh, please!’

  ‘That’s right, dear. I knew from what Toby told me about you that we’d get along like a house on fire. I’ve got a sixth sense where other folk are concerned, and you may not believe this, but I really enjoy a little feminine natter sometimes. Now, boys! No need to listen in to what we’re saying. This is a private matter between Tessa and I. Well now, dear, how about you and me entering into a little pact?’

  I guessed what was coming and said rather priggishly:

  ‘I should warn you that I have no influence whatever over Toby and I don’t know anyone who has.’

  She sighed. ‘You don’t have to tell me, dear. Obstinate isn’t the word. But it’s so bad for him to be shut up inside himself, isn’t it? Personally, I get so much happiness through helping others and familiarising myself with all their little problems. Don’t you find that?’

  ‘Yes,’ I admitted. ‘As a matter of fact, I do.’

  ‘There you are! I could tell we were birds of a feather. What I want you to do is to persuade that wicked cousin of yours that I’m not a designing female on the lookout for a husband. I’m quite contented with my lot, as it happens. I’ve been lucky enough to know great love and happiness and I have my precious memories. But that’s no reason why we shouldn’t be good pals and neighbours, is it? We pass this way but once is my motto, so why not try to spread a little joy as you go?’

  Somewhat flummoxed by this Fairy Truegold speech, I was searching for an adequate reply, when Lulu leaned away from me and raised her voice to include Toby and Robin, who were muttering together by the window.

  ‘I’ve been explaining to your little cousin here that I’m not the scheming harpy you take me for, Toby.’

  ‘Oh, good!’ he said politely.

  ‘And she’s on my side, I can tell you that. I’m sure you are too, Mr Price. With all your experience of the wickedness of this world, wouldn’t you say that to cut yourself off from your fellow-men is the worst crime of all?’

  ‘No,’ he replied, looking perplexed. ‘I can’t say I would.’

  One way and another, it was beginning to look like the most public private pact I had ever been invited to take part in, but as Robin and Toby had instantly resumed their conversation. Lulu was thrown back on a little more of her chosen feminine company.

  ‘So you’re an actress? Do tell me about yourself. It must be such a wonderful life. I expect you’ll laugh, but I’ve always had a special affinity with stage folk. I don’t know why it is, but we always seem to hit it off. I daresay you’ve heard of Maud Stirling, the famous singer, who died just the other day?’

  ‘Yes, indeed.’

  ‘One of my closest friends. She spent quite a lot of time down here, you know; at Storhampton.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘Never shall I forget going there one morning, when she’d opened the grounds to the public. It was such a scream because one fool of a woman who’d paid to come in mistook her for the help or something and, would you believe it, asked her where the loo was? Old Maud didn’t turn a hair. She was a marvellous mimic, you know, as well as being such a great operatic person, and she went straight into the most killing imitation of a cockney char and told the woman which way to go. I’ll never forget how we laughed about it afterwards.’

  On balance, I rated this anecdote ninety per cent apocryphal, so mumbled some stray remarks about Maud being an old family friend and, catching on, Lulu said thoughtfully:

  ‘Of course, she was before my time. I never heard her in the flesh, so to speak; only on records, although it’s wonderful what they can do with those nowadays. It was her daughter who was my real friend.’

  ‘Margot?’

  ‘Is that her real name? We always call her Betsy.’

  ‘Oh, her! She’s a dear, isn’t she?’

  ‘You can say that again! And a lovely sly sense of humour. I’m always telling her she ought to have been on the stage, but she says she’d be hopeless because she wouldn’t be able to remember a single line.’

  This sounded authentic enough and I said: ‘Have you known her long?’

  ‘Oh, ages and ages, dear. When my hubby was alive, we lived at Storhampton, you know. Quite a big old place, up by the golf club, but I’ve always had a hankering for the real countryside. And one or two jolly, friendly neighbours are as good as a dozen, any day,’ she added a trifle wistfully.

  ‘But you’re still able to keep up with the old Storhampton lot?’

  ‘Now and again. I’m turning into a real country bumpkin these days, but I still do my Family Planning work. They’re such a good crowd. That’s how I first met Betsy Craig.’

  ‘Oh yes, she’s very keen on all that.’

  ‘Me too. Wouldn’t give it up for anything. Second Tuesday of the month, come hell or high water. Some of those poor women who come to us, you wouldn’t believe the things they say! It’s wicked to laugh, I know, but I’ve got a very keen sense of humour and I never can resist seeing the funny side. But I mustn’t talk about myself. When are you coming over to see all the little improvements I’ve made at White Gables? Not that it wasn’t a lovely, old world place, mind you, but it did require a lot doing to it, and I’ve had an aviary built on the patio. I’d love you to see it. How about tomorrow lunch-time?’

  ‘It’s very kind of you, but I have to go to London tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, what a shame! Something to do with your acting?’

  ‘No, mainly to get my hair washed.’

  ‘Oh, but there’s no call to go all the way to London for that, dear. We’ve got the most marvellous new man just opened in Dedley. I always go there now and there’s no one more particular than me about hygiene and that. You really should give them a try.’

  Nothing will ever alter my conviction that Robin possesses an extra pair of ears tucked away inside his skull and he certainly had them switched on then. Moving away from Toby in a rather trance-like fashion, he picked up Lulu’s glass and, having refilled it, sat down in an armchair at right-angles to her, turning on the rueful smile.

  ‘Tessa always would have it that Dedley was pure desert for things like hairdressers, but I often suspected that she was simply making excuses to go to London and spend a lot of money. I must say,’ he went on shamelessly, ‘you do give the lie to her story.’

  Lulu bridled delightedly and would doubtless have tap
ped him with her fan, had she been holding one.

  ‘Now, now; naughty, naughty! You won’t catch me letting down my own sex. We poor women must stick together. I was just the same once upon a time, always popping up to London to the hairdresser. But I’m a changed person now. José’s got this really smart place in the High Street, and of course he’s straight from Mayfair, which makes all the difference. I don’t mind admitting that I wouldn’t go anywhere else now.’

  Apparently there were a good many other facts on the subject which she didn’t mind admitting and she went rattling on for a good ten minutes about wonderful old José, with only the minimum of prodding from Robin. Evidently, it did not cross her mind that there was anything bizarre in his passionate interest in feminine coiffure, but Toby was more sceptical.

  ‘I quite see what he is up to, Tessa,’ he said, manoeuvring me to a distant part of the room, ‘but I cannot imagine what he expects to get out of it.’

  ‘Oh, just filling in some background, you know. It has been known to produce something constructive.’

  ‘He must be raving if he’s hoping for anything constructive from Lulu. She’s oblivious to everything that doesn’t directly concern herself.’

  ‘And there, Toby, I fancy you under-rate her. From my brief acquaintance with Lulu I can tell you that she is positively brimming over with useful tips.’

  XII

  Mrs Parkes was granted her thunderstorm in the end, though she may not have been pleased by its timing, for it started clattering around our ears in the small hours of Monday morning.