Moonflower Murders

by Anthony Horowitz

  ‘What is this about, Algernon? I really don’t—’

  ‘It’s about this.’

  Algernon took a sheet of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. With a start, Dr Collins recognised the letter addressed to Samantha from Parker & Bentley in London. Algernon placed it flat on the table between them.

  ‘Where did you get that?’ Dr Collins demanded furiously. ‘You’ve been in my desk. How dare you? That’s private!’

  ‘You weren’t going to tell me about it? Dear Aunt Joyce popping her clogs in New York and leaving Samantha – how much, exactly? I take it that’s why you were in London yesterday.’

  ‘It’s none of your business.’

  ‘It’s very much my business, Leonard. I’m Samantha’s brother, in case you’ve forgotten. I had to live with the old bag too.’

  ‘She left you nothing, Algernon. She disapproved of your lifestyle – as, for that matter, do I. The amount of money is neither here nor there as you’re not going to receive a penny of it.’

  ‘Is that what Samantha says?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Or is it what you persuaded her to say? From my memory, Sam always had a soft spot for me – at least until she married you. I bet you anything you like that she’d want to share her good fortune with me. How much did you say it was?’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘Well, I’ve done a bit of research on my own and from what I’ve heard, Harlan Goodis made a mint out of advertising. My friends tell me that we could be talking about a million quid.’

  ‘What do you want, Algernon?’ Dr Collins looked at his brother-in-law with undisguised contempt.

  ‘I was thinking half would be fair.’

  Dr Collins stared at him, then let out a bark of laughter. ‘Are you mad?’

  ‘You don’t agree?’

  ‘I’ve already told you my thoughts. The money was not left to you. It was left to my wife. It was the specific wish of your aunt that none of it should come your way and if Samantha will take my advice, once she has inherited the money she will have nothing more to do with you.’

  ‘She listens to you, does she?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. Then you’ll be able to persuade her to think otherwise.’

  ‘And why should I do that?’

  ‘Because I know a thing or two about you, Leonard, which you might not want me to mention to Samantha – or to anyone else.’

  It was as if Dr Collins had been punched in the face. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Do you really want me to spell it out?’

  ‘You’re trying to blackmail me!’

  ‘Trying and succeeding, I’d say.’ Algernon leaned forward. ‘Let’s just call it a lack of professionalism in your dealings with certain patients.’

  ‘I categorically deny whatever it is you’re hinting at. There has never been any wrongdoing on my part and your pathetic attempts to discredit me will only land you in jail, which is what you richly deserve.’

  ‘Samantha may not agree.’

  ‘Leave my wife out of this!’

  Dr Collins might have leapt out of his chair and thrown himself at the other man, but the conversation was interrupted by not one but two cars pulling up in the driveway outside. Atticus Pünd and Detective Chief Inspector Hare were in the first. Uniformed police officers followed behind.

  Algernon got up and glanced out of the window. ‘It looks as if we’re going to have to continue this pleasant conversation later,’ he drawled. He reached for the letter but Dr Collins snatched it away. ‘We both know what we’re talking about,’ Algernon continued. ‘Fifty-fifty. I’ll keep quiet for the time being. But you’re going to have to use all your charm and powers of persuasion on Sam. I won’t give you long.’

  The doorbell rang.

  Dr Collins was staring at Algernon Marsh. He tore himself away and went to answer it.

  * * *

  Detective Chief Inspector Hare was standing on the doorstep and knew at once that something was wrong. The usually calm and easy-mannered doctor was clearly upset, and not just because there were so many representatives of the law invading his home.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’m very sorry to interrupt you, Dr Collins, but I wonder if your brother-in-law is in?’

  There was something about the question that seemed to amuse the doctor. The shadow of a smile passed across his face. ‘Algernon? Yes. I was just talking to him.’

  ‘We’d like to do the same, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘You’re not arresting him by any chance?’

  ‘You’ll forgive me if I don’t share that information with you, sir.’

  ‘Of course. Come in. He’s in the kitchen . . .’

  The two uniformed men stood outside the entrance. After what had happened at Clarence Keep, Hare was taking no chances. He and Pünd followed Dr Collins into the hallway. As they arrived, Algernon March strolled nonchalantly out of the kitchen.

  ‘Detective Inspector! Mr Pünd! What a pleasure to see you. Are you here to speak to me or to my brother-in-law? I’m sure Leonard has got quite a few things to tell you.’

  ‘Actually, Mr Marsh, it’s you I’ve come to see.’

  Algernon’s face fell, although the smile was still pinned in place. ‘This is all becoming a bit tedious, Detective Inspector.’

  ‘That may be the case but I have to do my job.’ Hare turned to the doctor. ‘Is there somewhere private we can go, sir?’

  ‘You can use my study if you like.’

  Pünd had said nothing throughout all this but he had heard the jibe that Algernon Marsh had thrown in the direction of his brother-in-law. Dr Collins had a story to tell and Algernon knew what it was. Did it relate to Melissa James? Almost certainly.

  ‘I’ll see you later, Leonard,’ Algernon said. ‘You can have a think about what we were talking about.’

  Pünd’s suspicions were confirmed. There was definitely bad blood between the two men.

  Dr Collins showed them into the study, which he also used as a surgery, with an examination couch in one corner and a curtain hanging from a rail. Pünd sat down to one side. Hare and Algernon Marsh faced each other across the desk.

  ‘I’d like to talk to you about a company that you own,’ Hare began. ‘Sun Trap Holdings.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ Algernon half laughed. ‘Do you want to invest, Detective Inspector?’

  ‘It’s Detective Chief Inspector, and I think I should warn you, Mr Marsh, that this is no laughing matter.’ Hare paused. ‘A great many people seem to have invested in this company. Would you like to explain to me what it actually does?’

  ‘Certainly. It develops property in the South of France: hotels, villas, that sort of thing. It’s like the gold rush over there. Cannes, Nice, St-Tropez – you may not have heard of them now but quite soon these are places the whole world is going to want to visit.’

  ‘I believe that Melissa James was one of your investors.’

  Algernon’s face darkened. ‘Who told you that?’ He collected himself. ‘Melissa had invested a small amount. Yes.’

  ‘Ninety-six thousand pounds is hardly a small amount, Mr Marsh.’

  ‘This is my private business. Who exactly have you been talking to?’

  ‘Her bank manager. We have traced three separate cheques made out to Sun Trap Holdings by Miss James.’

  ‘It’s a small amount in comparison to the returns she would have made once the developments were complete.’

  ‘And how many hotels and villas have you actually completed?’

  ‘You’re out of your depth, Detective Chief Inspector. It’s more complicated than that.’

  ‘It is actually very simple,’ Pünd cut in. ‘The system was invented thirty years ago by an Italian gentleman by the name of Charles Ponzi. He induced investors to put their savings into a scheme that would never in fact pay them anything. But he used the money of later investors to pay dividends to the earlier ones, making th
em believe that all was well. Meanwhile, he took everything for himself.’

  ‘I’ve done nothing illegal!’

  ‘That may not be the case, sir,’ Hare said. ‘The Larceny Act of 1916, Section 32, explicitly prohibits the obtaining of money by false pretences with the intent to defraud. It carries with it a prison sentence of five years.’

  ‘I wasn’t defrauding anyone!’ Algernon had shrunk into his seat, his early bluster replaced by a whining defensiveness. ‘Melissa knew exactly what she was doing. I kept her fully informed.’

  ‘And what exactly was your relationship with Miss James?’

  ‘We were friends.’

  ‘Close friends?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Were you and Miss James sleeping together?’

  Algernon gaped at the detective. ‘I have to say, you’re very direct, Chief Inspector. And I don’t see why I should answer your question. It’s none of your damn business.’

  Hare was unabashed. He produced the letter that had been found at Clarence Keep and showed it to Algernon. ‘Was this addressed to you?’

  Algernon took the letter and stared at it for some time. Pünd watched him carefully. Algernon Marsh was a calculated liar in the true sense that he calculated everything he said and only spoke the truth when it suited him. Even now he was weighing up the different possibilities. At last, he came to a decision.

  ‘All right,’ he said. His shoulders had slumped. He tossed the letter back on the table. ‘Yes. “Darling darling”. That’s how she always wrote to me. And that stuff about running away together. We talked about it all the time.’

  ‘So the two of you were in a relationship.’

  ‘Yes. The fact is she was crazy about me. She knew that Francis was a mistake. He couldn’t give her what she wanted.’

  ‘And what was that?’

  ‘Excitement. Challenge. Sex. What every woman wants. It began in London and I used to look in on her whenever I came to Tawleigh. Actually, it was the main reason I ever came to this dreary little place.’ He glanced at the letter. ‘Where did you get that?’

  ‘We believe Francis Pendleton may have found it . . .’

  ‘And killed her? Is that what you’re saying? That’s a nasty thought, but then he was entirely inadequate both as a husband and as a lover. It’s hardly surprising she turned to me – and for what it’s worth, I never did her any harm.’

  ‘Apart, that is, from stealing from her.’

  ‘Steady on, Detective Chief Inspector. That’s a bit strong.’

  ‘It’s my impression, Mr Marsh, that you ran your business with the mentality of a hit-and-run driver. You had no sense of shame, no morality. You just did what you did and moved on.’

  Again, Pünd saw it: the fear creeping back into Algernon’s eyes as he played back what Hare had just said.

  ‘I’ve done nothing wrong,’ Algernon muttered.

  ‘Mr Henry Dickson would disagree.’

  ‘Henry Dickson? I’ve never heard of him.’

  ‘He’s an opera singer, currently in hospital in Barnstaple in a serious but stable condition. He was struck by a car on the Braunton Road earlier this week. The driver did not stop.’

  ‘I hope you’re not suggesting . . .’ Algernon’s voice gave him away. The knowledge of his guilt was there in every word.

  ‘Can you explain how the front of your Peugeot was damaged, Mr Marsh?’

  ‘I can’t. I didn’t . . .’

  ‘Your car was noticed by another driver who went past the scene of the accident. We have this . . .’ Hare produced a second evidence bag with a half-smoked cigarette, the paper brown, damaged by the rain. ‘We also know how much alcohol you had consumed at the Saunton Golf Club and have good reason to believe you were driving under the influence of drink.’

  Hare waited for him to speak. But Algernon didn’t need to say anything more. He knew he was finished.

  ‘Algernon Marsh, I am arresting you on various offences under the 1930 Road Traffic Act and the Larceny Act of 1916. You do not have to say anything but I must warn you that anything you do say may be taken down and used in evidence against you. Is there anything you wish to say?’

  ‘Actually, there is one thing.’

  ‘And what is that?’

  Algernon wasn’t afraid. He had already worked it all out. ‘I was in love with Melissa James and she was in love with me. That’s all that matters to me right now, Detective Chief Inspector. You can arrest me if you really want to, but you’ll never take that away from me.’

  He was still smiling as they led him out of the house.

  Fifteen

  The Girl on the Bridge

  They had intended to escort Algernon Marsh to the police station in Barnstaple but when they reached Bideford Long Bridge they were stopped by an unexpected traffic jam. Detective Chief Inspector Hare knew at once that something unusual must have happened. It was the middle of the afternoon and there could be no obvious reason for ten or twenty cars to come to a standstill on each side of the river. Many of the drivers had got out and were looking at something in the very centre of the bridge. Leaving Algernon with the two policemen in the car behind, Hare and Pünd went to investigate. As they made their way forward, they heard some of the comments being made by the crowd.

  ‘Poor girl!’

  ‘Someone should do something.’

  ‘Has anyone called the police?’

  They continued to the front and saw at once what was happening.

  A young woman had climbed over the stone balustrade that ran the full length of the bridge and was standing on the narrow ledge on the other side. She was perched forward, leaning over the river, clinging on with her hands behind her. The bridge was not more than twenty feet high but the water was fast-flowing and murky with swirling currents. If she let go, the fall might not kill her but she would almost certainly drown.

  Hare had a grown-up daughter and felt a surge of pity for the young woman who had been driven to such an act. He guessed that she was in her twenties but it was only as he got nearer and saw her more closely that he recognised her brown hair, her slightly uneven features.

  ‘It’s the girl from the Moonflower!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘Nancy Mitchell.’ Pünd had also recognised her.

  ‘I have to stop her.’ Hare pushed his way between two men who had been standing helplessly at the entrance to the bridge. At least none of the drivers had moved too close, understanding that if the girl felt threatened, she would jump.

  Pünd reached out and took hold of the detective’s arm. ‘With respect, my friend, it might be better if I attempted to speak to her. She knows that you are a senior police officer and she may also know that to commit suicide is an offence against the law. If she sees you approach, it may alarm her . . .’

  ‘You’re right.’ There was no time for argument. Hare had positioned himself in front of the crowd and he turned round to face them. ‘I’m a police officer,’ he announced quietly. ‘Could I ask you all to move back?’

  The spectators did as they were told. At the same time, Pünd continued forward, finding himself alone on the now empty bridge. Nancy saw him coming and stared at him with eyes that were wide with fear.

  ‘Don’t come any closer!’ she shouted.

  Pünd stopped about ten paces away. ‘Miss Mitchell! Do you remember me? I am a guest at the hotel.’

  ‘I know who you are. But I don’t want to talk to you.’

  ‘You do not have to. There is no need to say anything. But please let me speak to you.’

  Pünd took two steps forward and the girl tensed herself. He stopped and looked down at the churning brown water as it raced past. The crowd on the other side of the river stirred uneasily, but fortunately another policeman had arrived and was making sure they stayed back.

  ‘I do not know what has brought you here or how you have been driven to an action as extreme as the one you are now contemplating,’ he said. ‘You must be very unhappy. Of that I am sure. Wil
l you believe me if I say that no matter how bad things may appear, they will be better tomorrow if you allow tomorrow to do its work? That is the way of things, Miss Mitchell, and I am the living proof of it.’

  She said nothing. He took two more steps. The closer he was to her, the less he would have to raise his voice.

  ‘Stay where you are!’ Nancy cried out.

  Pünd showed the palms of his hands. ‘I am not going to touch you. I wish only to talk.’

  ‘You can’t know what I’m thinking!’

  ‘What you are thinking, no. What you are feeling, perhaps.’ He took another step. ‘I too have suffered, Miss Mitchell. I have endured terrible violence – in prison in Germany, in the war. My wife was killed. My parents were killed. I found myself in an abyss, alone, surrounded by cruelty and inhumanity which I cannot describe. Like you, I wished for death.

  ‘And yet I did not die. I made the most stupid, the most irrational decision of my life. Against all the odds, I chose to survive! Am I glad I did so? Yes. Because here I am now and it is my hope that I can persuade you to do the same.’

  ‘I’ve got no hope.’

  ‘There is always hope.’ Pünd took another two steps towards her. He was now so close that if they had both stretched out their hands, they would have touched. ‘Let me look after you, Miss Mitchell. Let me help make the bad things that have happened go away.’ She was still unsure. He could see her struggling to decide. He knew what he had to do. ‘Think also of the child that you carry!’ he said. ‘Will you not give it a chance?’

  She had been looking at the water but now her head snapped round. ‘Who told you that?’

  In fact it was Detective Chief Inspector Hare who had guessed. ‘The miracle of life is written all over you,’ Pünd said. ‘And life is what you must embrace.’

  Nancy Mitchell had begun to cry. She nodded weakly, then twisted round, still grabbing hold of the balustrade with both hands. Pünd sprang forward and put his arms around her, holding her close to him, lifting her to safety. A few seconds later, Hare arrived as Nancy sank unconscious to the ground.