My heart leapt. I was as weak as water, innocent as Christ himself was when wrongly accused. “I can’t breathe!” I pulled at the collar of my blouse. “I simply can’t cope with this.”
“It’s a lot to take in, Mrs Good. I’m very sorry,” Irvine said.
“What else is there? Is there more in that blessed notebook?”
“Just that you were never happy with John and, of course, more about how you were having a torrid love affair with this Tim lad. More indiscreet details.”
“Ridiculous. Awful lies.”
He hunkered down and looked directly at me. “He says that John was bad to you and that you have money now and freedom.”
“The lying –”
“Try not to concern yourself about this now. I just wanted to ask you for your side of things. If you see or hear anything else you must tell us. Mrs Good, do you hear me? We are here to help you.” Irvine looked up the stairs. “Can I take a look around the rest of the house?"
I rolled my eyes and held my breast. If he was to look under the stairs!
Irvine placed his hand on the bannister, his left foot on the first step. “Let me peek into this attic and check around the rest of the house. It’ll put my mind at ease.”
“There’s been no one up there for years. The doors are mostly locked.”
Irvine didn’t listen and on up he went. He was back fairly quickly.
“The key was in the lock of attic,” Irvine said, smoothing out the bloody moustache. He didn’t talk about what else he found, or what he didn’t find.
“I’m a widow alone and this is not fair. I can’t take much more of this. Why are men trying to ruin what little bit of confidence and contentment I have left?”
“Don’t worry, Mrs Good. All will turn out for the best. Wait until you see. It will all be fine. And, when I spoke to your neighbour Cedric Fellows the other day he said you were a woman of remarkable character. A good Christian woman who takes his aunt to church. He likes his big words, doesn’t he? A woman of ‘fortitude’, I think he said. He said that he finds you fascinating. Men are still interested in you, Mrs Good. Doesn’t that make you feel better?”
“I don’t care what men think of me,” I replied slowly.
He left with a curt nod of his head and I breathed a sigh of relief. My secret was safe but it wouldn’t be for long.
Whether or not Cedric was rotting, the fear of him decomposing greeted me in the hallway the following day. I had to do something. What a disaster it was! I had to get rid of the problem immediately. I also needed to be gone from Newburn Crescent. It wouldn’t be long until word came from Inishowen about Tilly and Frank too. Constable Irvine would be back before I knew it!
The card sat on the hall table looking at me.
Mrs Alice Longmire, 53 Marshall Meadows,
Netterby, Co Down
There was an eagle barely visible, embossed on the card. I ran my fingers over it. I could afford to travel to Netterby. Alice would have to take me in and she’d know what to do.
***
On the Old Netterby Road stood a terrace of houses, majestic two-storeys with nice bay windows on the ground floor. The gardens were small but perfectly formed. Each one was manicured and starting to blossom with daffodils and an odd early tulip. Splashed with colour and gardening know-how, they all looked nice and orderly, especially Number 53.
A smattering of grass and a well-swept path led to a door that seemed to be newly painted in a bright red. The residences were nice but it was not a neighbourhood I would have imagined a lady like Alice living in. But then again, where else would a murdering woman live?
I went around to the back. Alice was in the kitchen. She was looking through bags of shopping, pulling out a blouse and holding it up to the light.
Then she saw me.
She let me in the back door, into the small kitchen
“You have some nerve coming here.”
I held out the card to her. “I found this. You gave this to my husband. Explain yourself.”
“Oh, I met him a few times. I needed to get some information about you and to assess him and your situation – from the horse’s mouth. Enough to convince me you were not a genuine victim – you were bad news.”
That sounded convincing – sounded like what Alice would do.
“I’m in need of help,” I said. “Things are falling apart for me.”
“The cheek of you is unbelievable. Have you been arrested?”
“No.”
She shrugged, indifferent to my suffering. “Get rid of that expression, Eve Good. I’m not going to let you hurt me.”
“I need somewhere to stay. My landlord is dead and anyhow he was making me move. John owned nothing and I am destitute. Can I stay here?”
She laughed. The room closed in on me like it does when I’m angry.
“I need a place to hide,” I said.
“I’m not sure what you think we can do. You were warned to make sure you had financial gain from John’s accident. We warned you. We learned from Lydia’s case that you need to have it all in hand and know that you’re better off with no husband than maintaining a marriage. We told you all of this, Eve. Twice. You were given every opportunity to listen but you heard only what you wanted to hear.” Alice smirked at me. “You see, Eve Good, you don’t know everything and cannot control everything. I’m quite enjoying thinking that your life is falling apart around your ears. John Good will be rolling around his grave laughing at you now.”
I hated the sound and sight of her.
“I refuse to leave.”
“John himself had suspicions about you. He even told me, a total stranger, about his odd, plain wife who had a vicious temper and not a lot of Christianity. A manipulator he called you. How right poor John Good was!” She sat tall in the seat. “The Sinful Roses was not made for the likes of you. It has a higher purpose. You use and abuse it. It was founded to protect women from evil, not to shield the evil in women.”
“You and your posh words and fancy clobber! You’re no better than me, glamour-puss. You’re a murderer too.”
“But, Eve, you didn’t kill anyone, remember? Have you forgotten? You’re an innocent, timid creature. John fell.” She mimicked my voice: “I’m lost. My darling John fell!”
“I have murdered people!” I said. “How dare you laugh at me! I’m better than all of you silly Roses! I’m a real killer and they may be found soon and I need you to get the others here so we can discuss what’s going to happen next.”
“I cannot do that. That’s not how it works. Go home and we’ll contact you.”
“I have no home. It has burned down.”
“For the love of God!”
“Luckily it didn’t spread to the other house in the cul-de-sac. Thankfully Marjorie wasn't hurt by the fire.” I thought about mentioning Frank Hockley but I didn’t. All of that was too precious to spill into reality. “I set the fire though. That’s why I’m here. I’m going to need some advice, I imagine – either that or I’ll need some help to disappear. Can you see now that this is urgent?”
“You didn’t tell anyone about Lydia, us or the Sinful Roses? No one at all? You never discussed it with anyone?”
“You said yourself I have no one to tell.” I shook my head and told myself that Tilly was gone and even if she was still alive, she would never speak of the Sinful Roses.
There was little need for me to read the newspapers Lydia had brought with her. The headlines were big like Lydia’s annoyance.
“She killed your friend Cedric,” Alice told Lydia. “That’s his body they’ve found under the stairs. You’ll need whiskey. Eve here says she needs our help. I know, Lydia. The colour of you says it all. But I did warn you. Cedric wanted his rent paid. That’s all I can figure out that he did wrong.” Alice flung the newspaper at me. “You are such an ass! Remains are found in a house where another man died only a few months ago!”
The papers were not very fair in their accounts of my sins
. Murdering their owner and their respected boss was a bad move. John, of course, was getting glowing references from his superiors and colleagues. He was the best husband in the world to a hysterical, bad wife. They were all having a great time making my life even more miserable.
“You spoke of us. I know you did. You’ll pay for doing that,” Alice said.
Lydia left in a flurry.
Alice reached into her handbag – out came the barrel of a pistol. She was trying to unnerve me. “Lydia has given her orders and they were very clear. Lord love her, she is troubled about this. Tell me now, Eve – one woman to another – John’s death – was it really an accident?”
I sighed. She was still trying to scare me. “He fell, I tell you – he fell.”
She didn’t even try to muffle the noise of the gun. The trigger was pulled and a pressure of heat hit me. The pain pierced me once in the arm and then a second time in the breast.
She shot me. The bitch shot me! Twice! I really didn’t think she was capable of it – until then.
My eyes blinked and the burning was unbearable. My knees slumped off the chair and thumped the hard floor. I gulped the pain down into my throat. I backed away from her on my behind, slithering painfully against the wall.
Alice leaned over me, her perfume strong. I clung to my heart.
“We told you that there was no going back, no turning back of the clock. This should have been done months ago. There are consequences when people talk about us. I told you that I would kill you before I let you drag us down.”
“I’m … innocent,” I panted. Shallow slight breaths were all I could manage.
My lungs – fierce – pain – taste blood – Alice’s face – her lips – talking.
“Can you hear me, Eve? This is what happens to those who let us down. You deserve this. The Sinful Roses’ justice has been served. Die well. You were never one of us. You were never a Sinful Rose.”
Next thing I knew I was in a hospital bed. I’d been dumped on the side of a main road like an animal. Left to bleed into the ditch! Tossed out of her car no doubt! There were no witnesses to say how I got there. Luckily, I was soon spotted.
Alice can say whatever she likes but I never wanted to be a Sinful Rose. I never needed any of them. I don’t care if my testimony to you gets them into trouble. Eve Good will win in the end!
Chapter 31
Laurie Davenport
Eve’s words shouldn’t have shocked us but we both sit in the chairs dumbstruck.
“It’s high time we questioned this Eve Good with no nonsense taken,” I announce assuredly after a long and laboured silence.
It seems that Eve has managed to shock the unshockable Norah.
She moves over by the bookshelves and the morning sun is warm. I feel sticky and sickly. She replies after a while with an edge to her voice. “If these Sinful Roses exist at all it will be only a matter of time until I find a Ravenscairn ‘location’ in England and make contact with them. Eve Good is not going to help us much further, as she has never met Charlotte."
“I want to ask her things,” I say with a begging tone I wish would go away. “I've made a list.” I touch my temple. “In here.”
“Ah, the great mind of a detective,” Norah mocks.
On another day I might have chuckled at that, but I feel she’s being sarcastic.
I know I’m finding women hard to understand but Norah's moods move like the wind. Why does she not want me to question Eve?
“I’m a man who finishes his tasks,” I start and then touch my scars and realise I didn't finish my time in the war. I abandoned other men at the front. I was injured but I was glad to leave that mission incomplete. That failure stops me in my tracks and my headache worsens. “No, that’s not true – I left good men behind me to die – but I sure as hell am not going to stop until I know there is no such thing as these cursed Roses.”
“I have some new information,” she says and seems to hesitate. “Fredrick thinks Charlotte disappeared to get money from either you or her father or both. Her father is denying getting a ransom note but it is known that he did. Servants talk.”
I gulp back anger. “Charlotte knows I’ve no money to speak of these days. There you have it, Norah. A broken man in an old house. What is there to love?”
Norah comes and crouches down by my chairs. “Stop this, Laurie,” she says softly. “You are mending your life.”
“Bring the car around and let’s go and talk to Eve. I’ve had enough of sitting in this chair,” I say.
“Let’s wait a while,” Norah says and touches my knee as she leaves me to sit elsewhere in the room.
“I want to go now!” I demand. It’s childlike, bold and sharp. Hearing Eve recount Alice’s attempted murder is sinking in.
Norah has been reticent for days now about becoming a Sinful Rose. Even by the way she helps me put on my topcoat and get into the passenger seat, I know she’s determined to avoid all retreat on the infiltration of the Roses idea. Her driving is smooth and I can picture her steady gloved hands on the wheel. The day is wet and the wipers are making a creaking sound across the windshield. They need to be looked at but I’m not going to suggest it. What would a woman like her know about windscreen wipers?
“I can almost hear you thinking,” she says when we are well on the road home from Thistleforth. “And I know it’s risky for me to do this, but we talked the General into it now and it’s the best way to get more information. Eve has told us all of her tale. And now we know some of the women at least and what we’re dealing with. A dangerous club of women. But – we need proof. Charlotte has been taken in for questioning and dragged over the coals for wasting everyone’s time. And Freddie said she’s still staying with Lady Dornan. She gave their address. I mean really! They’re brazen to still be together, aren’t they?”
I shrug. “I feel slightly sorry for her –” I stop for I can sense Norah opening her mouth to protest. I go on, “I know I shouldn’t feel anything but contempt for my wife or Eve Good, but they’ve made me curious about all of it. In a macabre way I want to know more. And before you say anything else, I’m not like Lord Dornan and no, I’ve not fallen in love with Eve Good. I’m just more and more uncertain about her every day.”
“She was still adamant right to the end that John Good fell. Do you believe her? She was truthful about the other things – we hope. Perhaps John Good did just fall and then she didn’t think she needed to help the Roses?”
I make a noise in my throat to give myself time to think. I’m not sure about any woman since Charlotte tried to kill me. Since I became blind, Freddie expects me to gain some kind of sixth sense to unravel the Roses mess, but really I have a muddle for a heart and mind.
Norah says, “Laurie, you know that not many women want to murder their husbands? This is all very unusual. Many women are distressed or dissatisfied with their lives, but the number of those who will actually contact the Roses is quite low. Especially now, for their men are at war. At the very least it seems ungrateful and I cannot see many women contacting such an organisation right now. That’s why I think I will be successful in being accepted into the ranks.”
“Perhaps we should ask Eve how best to go about it all?” I say.
That makes Norah swerve my car. She gasps and I hold on for dear life, hoping her eyes are back on the road.
“It’s just she knows the whole thing from the inside too,” I say. “And she might have some information of use.”
“We won’t tell a soul about my joining the Roses! Do you hear me, Laurie? Other than the General of course. And we definitely won’t be telling your pal Eve!”
“Of course, that makes sense,” I lie, thinking of Giles’ knowledge of the whole thing. “But we can always ask Eve things on the sly? With us being good detectives we should be able to extract information from her?”
“All we’ve done is listen!” Norah snaps. “We were warned not to try to be professionals about this.”
“Says
the woman who’s going to be going into a den of vipers with no training whatsoever.” I don’t like the atmosphere between us. I admire Norah but she’s getting irritable these days. I know this happens to women every month, but her outbursts are sporadic and unpredictable. Is it that she doesn’t want us to become reliant on each other? It is too late for me. I’m totally in awe of her. Hooked and sunk in glorious love with her. Every time she mentions Freddie and marrying him, I think I might commit murder!
I tilt my head in her direction. “I can always keep the conversation going with Eve while you spend time seducing your new husband.”
“That’s a nasty thing to say. You’re in such a bad mood and I’m tired of it,” Norah says, swinging the Crossley right around so that it feels like we are heading homewards again.
“I don’t like being a passenger when a woman is driving,” I say through gritted teeth as she cranks at my gearstick. “And if you’re going to be busy with the Sinful Roses, I want to make myself useful and visit Eve alone.”
She changes gears and boots us forward. It feels like she’s driving far too fast. How I hate not knowing what’s going on! She’s not mentioned that she's turned the car around. What am I to do now?
Of course, I'm too proud to ask her what's what and instead I keep the tension high and ask, “Have the General and you set a date then?” There’s an annoyance between us now that is fiery and I want to blow on the flames. Self-sabotage has always been a strong trait of mine. “A wedding in the snow might be fitting? You’d like that. A fake Christmas wedding.”
“Stop being mean,” Norah says, sounding decidedly mean herself. “Just because I won’t be around to be at your beck and call and be able to give you my full attention, you’ve been acting like a child for days.”
The Murdering Wives Club Page 18
