* * *
Two hours later, Atticus Pünd and Detective Chief Inspector Hare were sitting on uncomfortable wooden chairs outside a private room on the first floor of North Devon Infirmary in Barnstaple, the same hospital where Henry Dickson was slowly recovering. And, Pünd realised, Madeline Cain must be somewhere there too. He had not seen her since the death of Francis Pendleton, although he had made sure she was well looked after.
The door opened and a young doctor came out.
‘How is she?’ Hare asked.
‘I’ve given her a mild sedative and she’s a little drowsy, but she wants to see you. I advise against it. After what she’s been through, she needs to rest.’
‘We’ll try not to tire her,’ Hare said.
‘Good. She is pregnant, by the way. You were right about that. About three months. Fortunately, no harm will have come to the unborn child.’
The doctor walked away. Pünd and Hare exchanged a glance and went in.
Nancy Mitchell was lying in bed with her hair spread out on the pillow behind her. She looked rested and strangely serene. ‘Mr Pünd,’ she said as the two men sat down. ‘I want to thank you. What I did . . . what I was thinking of doing . . . was very stupid. I feel embarrassed that I made such a fool of myself.’
‘I am just glad that you are here and you are feeling better, Miss Mitchell.’
‘Are you going to arrest me, Chief Inspector?’
‘That’s the last thing on my mind,’ Hare replied.
‘Good. I want to see both of you because I need to get this off my chest. Certainly before my parents get here. The doctor said they’re on their way.’
Hare was surprised how assured Nancy Mitchell had become. It was as if her experience on Bideford Long Bridge had provided some sort of epiphany.
‘I suppose I ought to start at the beginning. You were right, Mr Pünd. I’m sure the doctor will have told you that I’m expecting a child. I haven’t told my parents yet but I’ve decided I want to keep it. Why should I have to put it up for adoption just because the local people of Tawleigh might not approve? My dad won’t agree, but I’ve been afraid of him since I was a child and I’m tired of it. Maybe it’s like what you said, Mr Pünd, and this is a chance for me to take control of my life.
‘Before you ask, I’m going to tell you the name of the father even though I haven’t told anyone else and I wasn’t going to. But I suppose you have to know and so I’m going to tell you now. It was Melissa’s husband, Francis Pendleton. Does that surprise you? That’s what this is all about, isn’t it, and it’s the reason why I have to talk to you. I was not in love with him and, in case you’re wondering, I didn’t kill him, although I suppose I would say that, wouldn’t I?’ She paused. ‘I’ll tell you how it happened.
‘I knew him quite well, of course. Miss James might have owned the Moonflower but he was in and out all the time. He helped her run it. I won’t say we became friends but he seemed to enjoy talking to me. He also wanted me to help him. He had this idea that the Gardners were cheating his wife in some way and he asked me to keep an eye on them for him. I wasn’t too keen about that. I didn’t want to be a spy. But at the same time I was flattered that he’d asked me and I liked him. He was always kind to me.
‘And then one day, about three months ago, he came to the hotel in a dreadful state. He didn’t say anything to me but he went straight to the bar and began drinking, on his own. It was my luck – my bad luck – to be on night duty. This was the end of January and the hotel was almost empty. Anyway, I left him on his own for a couple of hours and then I went into the bar because I was worried about him and I wanted to know everything was all right.
‘It wasn’t. He’d had quite a lot to drink and he just sort of blurted out that he’d discovered his wife was having an affair. I didn’t believe it at first. I mean, she was Melissa James! She was a big star. Then I thought maybe he was mistaken but he said he’d found a page from a letter she’d written – a love letter. He didn’t know who it was addressed to, though. There was no name on the letter and he hadn’t told her he’d found it. But he said it was destroying him. He worshipped her. He really did. He said he couldn’t live without her. He was so intense it was actually quite frightening.
‘It was quite late by now and there were just the two of us and I tried to be nice to him – you know, to look after him. I said to him that he probably shouldn’t go home, not in the state he was in, and I suggested he go to bed in one of the rooms upstairs. We had half a dozen to choose from. Well, he thought that was a good idea and I offered to take him up and that was my mistake. One thing led to another, as my mum would say, and that’s what happened.’
Nancy fell silent.
‘He didn’t love me,’ she continued, eventually. ‘He just felt bad about himself. Melissa was the love of his life and she’d been unfaithful to him, so if he did the same to her, maybe it would make him feel better about himself. More of a man. As for me, I don’t know what was going on in my head. Perhaps I was flattered that someone like Francis Pendleton should be interested in the likes of me, but actually I wasn’t thinking at all and certainly not about the consequences.’
She sighed.
‘I must be stupid. It’s not as if I don’t know about the birds and the bees and all the rest of it. I nearly died when Dr Collins told me. Of course, he immediately assumed that I’d have the baby adopted. I didn’t tell him who the father was. Actually, I lied. I told him it was someone I’d met in Bideford. I didn’t want anyone to know. I couldn’t see that any good would come of it. Not for Mr Pendleton, not for Melissa, not for me.
‘In the end, I did tell Francis. We’d hardly seen each other at all since that one night and I got the feeling he was deliberately avoiding me so I wrote him a letter. He had to know! After all, it was his child and anyway, I needed help. I thought he might look after me. I didn’t expect him to leave his wife or anything like that, but he had plenty of money and I thought that maybe he would help me set up somewhere and I’d have the baby and start a new life.
‘Do you know what he did? The very next day after he got my letter, he sent me an envelope with sixty quid and the address of a doctor in London. He wanted me to have an abortion. That was all! He didn’t want to talk to me. He didn’t want to have anything to do with it. How could anyone be so cruel?’
‘It was you who came to Clarence Keep just before Francis Pendleton was killed,’ Pünd said.
‘I didn’t do it, Mr Pünd. I swear to you.’ She drew a breath. ‘You’ve got to understand how I was feeling. I’d been humiliated. I was ashamed . . . and angry. Of course, everything was complicated after what had happened to Melissa, but I’d written to him before all that, so he didn’t have any excuse for not talking to me. He’d dismissed me because it suited him to and because he looked down on me. I didn’t mean anything to him. At the same time, I knew I had to do something – and soon. My mum was already looking at me peculiarly and it wouldn’t be long before my dad noticed too.
‘I went round to the house to have it out with him. If you want the truth, I was going to threaten him. Either you look after me properly or I’ll tell the whole world what sort of man you are. It wasn’t as if he had anything to lose. Melissa wasn’t around any more. He had her house, her hotel, her fortune. He could look after me. I was going to tell him that he had to live up to his responsibilities – or else!
‘When I got to Clarence Keep, I saw cars parked outside and I wondered what was going on. I didn’t ring the doorbell. Instead, I went round to the living room and peeked in through the window. That was when I saw you and the chief inspector – and there were two policemen in uniform and all! I knew at once that this was the last place I wanted to be so I ducked and ran – round the back of the house and over the wall, through the trees and down to the main road.
‘It was only afterwards, when I heard about Mr Pendleton, that I got scared. Everyone was talking about it in the village. He had been killed too! It didn’t
take me long to work out that I’d been at the house at exactly the same time it had happened and that if the truth about us ever came out, everyone would think that it was me. I certainly had a good reason to stick a knife in him, the way he’d treated me. You probably think that too.
‘Everything seemed completely hopeless. I was going to get blamed and on top of that, with him gone there’d be nobody to look after me. There’s no way I can even prove the baby’s his. My mum wouldn’t be able to do anything for me. And my dad would kill me.’
She choked up and Pünd handed her a glass of water. She took a few sips, then handed it back.
‘I know what I did on the bridge was stupid and wrong, but I couldn’t see any way out,’ she said. ‘I just thought it would be easier for everyone, including me and the baby, if I wasn’t there any more. I thought about walking into the sea. I never learned to swim. But then I decided the bridge would be easier. So I went there and made a complete fool of myself and now I’m here and heaven knows what’s going to happen next, because I’ve certainly got no idea.’
She had reached the end of her story. She fell silent.
Detective Chief Inspector Hare had listened to all this without commenting but now he was the first to speak. ‘It’s just as well you told us all this, Miss Mitchell,’ he said. ‘We’re now investigating not one but two murders and your testimony may help us make sense of it all. I’m sure you need to get some rest, but there is one thing I must ask you. Did you see anyone come out of the house when you were at Clarence Keep? I’m not questioning what you told us, but you’re correct in thinking you were at the scene of the crime when Mr Pendleton was killed. You say you saw Mr Pünd and myself through the window. Did you see anyone else?’
Nancy shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I just wanted to get away. I didn’t see anything.’
It was the answer Hare had been expecting but it was disappointing all the same. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘We’ll say no more about what happened this morning. The important thing is to look after yourself. You should talk to your mother and I’m sure Dr Collins can help you. There are organisations that can counsel young women in your position. The Mission of Hope is one . . . and there’s Skene Moral Welfare. You don’t need to feel you’re on your own.’
‘I also will try to help you,’ Pünd said. ‘The words that I spoke to you on the bridge, they were true.’ He smiled at her. ‘You must look after yourself and your child, but you can reach me at any time.’ He took out a business card and placed it carefully on the table beside the bed. ‘Everything will work itself out for the best,’ he assured her. ‘You must think of me always as a friend.’
He and Detective Chief Inspector Hare got up and left the room. They walked back down the corridor, heading towards the main stairs. Hare looked exhausted by what he had just heard. He shook his head ruefully. ‘Who’d have thought it.’ He sighed. ‘And where do we go next? This whole business with Tawleigh-on-the-Water turns out to be like the first labour of Hercules.’
‘To what do you refer, Chief Inspector?’
‘The cleaning of the Augean stables. We’ve got Melissa James having an affair with Algernon Marsh at the same time as he’s cheating her with his fake business schemes. Then there’s Francis Pendleton taking advantage of Nancy Mitchell. Eric Chandler is a pervert. The Gardners are thieves. Is there any end to it?’
‘It is, I think, the fifth labour of Hercules, the stables. But do not despair, my friend.’ There was a twinkle in Pünd’s eye. ‘The end is very much in sight!’
‘If only I could believe that!’
They had reached the ground floor and Pünd was about to reply when he stopped and exclaimed with surprise: ‘Miss Cain!’
It was true. His assistant was standing at the front door, fully dressed, holding a suitcase. ‘Mr Pünd!’ She was equally surprised to see him.
‘How are you feeling, Miss Cain?’
‘I’m much better, thank you, sir. Are you going back to the hotel?’
‘That is our intention.’
‘Then I’ll come with you if I may.’ She hesitated. ‘Are we going to be staying here very much longer?’ she asked. ‘I must be honest with you. What I saw in that house – I’m never going to get it out of my head! The sooner I’m back in London, the happier I’ll be.’
‘I completely understand your desire to leave this place. I am aware that this has been a terrible experience for you and again I must apologise. But it may please you to know that I will be returning to London tomorrow, Miss Cain. By then the entire mystery will have been solved.’
‘You know who did it!’ Hare exclaimed.
‘I know who killed Melissa James and Francis Pendleton, but I take no credit, Detective Chief Inspector. This was your investigation and it was you who gave me the clue that revealed everything.’
‘And what was that?’
‘It was when you spoke of the plays of William Shakespeare and in particular the death of Desdemona in Othello.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Mr Pünd. But I’m afraid I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.’
‘All will be revealed. There is just one more piece of information that is required and our work will be concluded.’
‘And what is that?’
Pünd smiled. ‘For what reason did Melissa James go to church?’
Sixteen
Pünd Sees the Light
Atticus Pünd had no time for religion. During the war, he had been persecuted not for what he believed but for what he was, a Greek Jew whose great-grandfather had emigrated to Germany sixty years before he was born, unaware that although he was bettering his own life, his decision would lead to the extinction of almost his entire bloodline. When Pünd had found himself in Belsen, he had seen Jews praying together, begging their God to deliver them from evil. He had also seen them taken away and murdered. He had known then, not that he had ever doubted it, that even if God existed He preferred not to listen, and all the stars, crosses and crescent moons in the world would not make an iota of difference.
That was what he still believed but at the same time he understood the need for religion and respected it. As he walked into the churchyard of St Daniel’s, he reflected that Tawleigh-on-the-Water would be a much poorer place without it. Here was a little world of its own, a green haven closed in by beech trees, the fishermen and -women who had created this community over the years still part of it, lying in their graves. The church itself dated back to the fifteenth century: a neat, handsome structure made from the Cornish granite known as moorstone, with a truncated tower to the west in need of some repair. Pünd felt a great sense of calm. He could imagine an English village without religion but he could not imagine it without a church.
Melissa James had come here an hour before her death. Why?
Samantha Collins, the doctor’s wife, had seen her from a bedroom window but there was no evidence that Melissa had any religious beliefs or any time for the church, even though she had elected to be buried here. Pünd could see the freshly dug grave, waiting patiently for the police to release the body. Had she met someone here? It was, after all, a good place for an assignation. It was private, set apart from the centre of the village. It was never locked.
Pünd turned the heavy iron ring and the door creaked open. The inside of the church was a surprise. It was somehow larger than the exterior had suggested, bright and very neat, with a blue carpet running between the pews to the altar at the far end. Above the altar, three stained-glass windows told the story of the life of St Daniel, and as Pünd moved closer he found himself bathed in light from the late-afternoon sun that slanted down, immersing him in different colours. To one side of him was a stone font. On the other, a monumental brass with an engraving of the lord of the manor who lay below. It was the whole span of life in a single glance.
He realised he was not alone. A woman had appeared, walking from behind the pulpit, carrying a vase of flowers. It was Samantha Collins. Pünd was
not surprised to find her here. He had read in the notes that Hare had given him that she was devoted to the church.
‘Oh . . . good afternoon, Mr Pünd.’ She seemed momentarily startled. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I came here for a moment of contemplation,’ Pünd said, with a smile.
‘Well, you’re very welcome. I won’t be very long. I’m just freshening up the flowers. And I’ve got to put up the hymn numbers. The organ is terribly old and wheezy, but it might just have enough strength to get through another blast of “Onward, Christian Soldiers”.’
‘Please do not let me interfere with your work. I will return, very soon, to the hotel.’
But Samantha had put down the flowers and with sudden determination she came over to him. ‘I understand you’ve arrested Algie,’ she said.
‘I have arrested nobody, Mrs Collins. It is Detective Chief Inspector Hare who has taken your brother into custody and who is speaking to him now.’
‘I suppose you can’t tell me what he’s done.’
Pünd shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No, no. It’s all right. I completely understand.’ She sighed. ‘Algie’s always been in trouble for one thing or another for as long as I can remember. I sometimes wonder how we can possibly be related when we’re so different.’ She hesitated, then plunged in. ‘Just tell me this. He hasn’t been arrested for the murder of Melissa James, has he?’
‘You suspect him of the crime, Mrs Collins?’
‘No! Not at all! That’s not what I meant.’ She was clearly horrified. ‘Algie’s capable of a lot of things but he would never deliberately set out to hurt someone.’
And yet he had hurt someone, Pünd reflected. He had left them lying on the side of the road.
‘But it’s just that I know he and Melissa were close,’ she went on. ‘As I told you, he was her financial adviser.’
‘Is that how he described the relationship to you?’
‘Yes. It probably meant he was after her money, but there was no crime in that. She had plenty to spare.’
Moonflower Murders Page 37
