The Murdering Wives Club

by Sharon Thompson

  “Stopped?” I venture. “Since we started questioning Eve?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you think Eve was telling the truth?”

  “You were the people who spent hours reading the woman’s words. What do you think?” Freddie sounds impatient and there is noise in the background on his end. People calling him away.

  “I believed Eve’s accounts,” I say, holding the bridge of my nose. “But then I am a soft fool as we both know. And Eve didn’t give us any proof really, did she? And the police didn’t believe it?”

  “Who do you think sent the case to me!” Freddie says. “They didn’t have the manpower to deal with it but they all felt one of their own, Sergeant John Good, was murdered. I think their gut instinct was there was more to it all and that when Eve started singing about the Murdering Wives Club – well, it all made sense to them.”

  “Fuck me!” I say for there is no other way to express this mess. “I got the impression from Norah that she concluded Eve had invented it all for her own purposes!”

  Freddie is called harshly by someone. I really hope he stays on the line even though my head is bursting and I don’t want to be thinking that my soon-to-be-ex-wife is a killer again.

  “Perhaps I should question Charlotte or Lady Dornan?” I say. “By myself? If it is a waste of time, then I’ll not look silly in front of Norah. Giles thinks I can do much more things on my own from now on too.”

  “He’s right, the old codger! But going alone to speak to two women you think might be out to get you into a coffin … is not a good idea?”

  “True ... the only other avenue is that we find a Ravenscairn location locally and go watch it or go with Norah’s plan.”

  “Does that mean my freedom is on the chopping-block again?” Freddie asks with a chuckle.

  “Without Norah we are both lonesome men,” I say, forlorn. Everything is in a complete muddle.

  “Ask Giles what he thinks, old boy,” Fredrick says. “We men need to stick together at times like these. Listen, I’ve got to go. Keep up the good work.”

  “When will Norah be back?” I ask.

  “I’ve no idea. She said that you were in charge now. I laughed and let her go. I think she’s running rings around you, Laurie. Pull that woman into line once she gets back. I think it’s about time that you show her who’s boss.”

  “Of course I will. I’ll show her who’s boss,” I say.

  I’m confident about that reply for all of three seconds.

  Chapter 39

  Laurie Davenport

  The morning’s post is sitting unopened on the table. It’s been a week since Freddie’s motivational telephone conversation, but without Norah I’m still at a loss. I am torn. I really doubt that there’s any truth to Eve’s tales about murdering women, but something niggles in the back of my mind that maybe I’m wrong.

  I’ve opened the briefcase clasp. I’ve not been able to read the files and I’ve raked though my memory to find something or anything of note for the Sinful Roses case. Giles has also switched off the music. He doesn’t like my taste.

  He’s still tidying around and I can hear him tutting about something.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “Norah has bundles of newspapers and magazines stuffed here and there. They are everywhere!” he says, making a racket of noise with the paper. “I think I’ll move them out of here – stack them up on a shelf somewhere.”

  The telephone rings in the hall and he goes to answer it.

  A minute or so later he is back. “That was the General,” he says. “He’s wondering why you haven’t phoned him about the letter he sent over. I knew you should have let me read those letters on the table for you. Freddie wishes you to open them and then telephone him back.”

  I nod, curious as to what made Freddie contact me.

  Giles sits at my desk and rips the first envelope open with my silver letter opener. I hear the slice.

  “A bill,” he says, and the process goes on. “Papers from the solicitor … Word about your pension – we can deal with that later. Here’s the one he means.”

  There’s a slice through paper and an intake of breath.

  “Is it Norah?” I ask, on the edge of my seat.

  Giles must be reading for he doesn’t answer.

  “Giles, is it from Norah? Charlotte? Who?”

  “It’s from Eve Good,” Giles says, and he coughs. “Isn’t she dead?”

  “She’s supposed to be.”

  “Hang on – let me read on and then I’ll read it out to you,” Giles says. “I’m a slow reader.”

  I nod agreement but sense he’s not taken his eyes off the page. The wait is endless. What on earth is going on? What is Eve writing to me about? And from the grave?

  “Giles!” I hiss. “Hurry up, for pity’s sake!”

  “Sweet divine!” Giles says under his breath.

  “This not seeing is driving me insane! Giles, read it to me – now. I cannot wait any longer.”

  “We may need brandy,” Giles says, “but here goes.”

  He begins to read.

  ‘“The Sunny Morning of8th July 1944

  My dearest Mr Davenport,

  I hope this letter finds you well. I asked that it be delivered upstairs and I asked that it be then sent directly to you. I am not stupid and know that despite all of my protestations my other letters go through official channels and are read by others. But I’ve asked that this be just for you. I wanted to post it but of course I have no address. It is my dying wish and I am fulfilled now that the truth is out there and written down or shared – I have a sense of achievement. Also, I wanted to thank you for having me brought to this place where it is pleasant and I can see the sunlight.

  You are a kind person. I could tell that the day we met. Not many people are. I suppose you have to spend more time listening now that you cannot see. It makes you patient and understanding. I’ve spent hours with my eyes closed and I cannot imagine how it is for you full-time. I rarely care about how life is for others, but I made an exception for the handsome, blind man with the scars and nice suit that doesn’t fit him. There is something special about you, Mr Davenport. I did find your injuries ugly but I didn’t pity you because there is nothing worse than pity. Am I right?

  Back to the full purpose of this correspondence. I’ve been told that you will not visit me here. This saddens me as yet again fate will not let us speak. I suspect, Mr Davenport, that it will not be long until I am sent back to the gaol. My tale is told and I will be cast aside or will be thrust amongst the other bitches in Armagh. I’m not a criminal like the rest in there. I am nothing like them. I worry too that I’ve been brought here so that I can be murdered in my prison by the Sinful Roses for speaking about them. This is unacceptable. I cannot stomach the thought of the Sinful Roses winning. I simply cannot have that. In reflecting on all that has happened, my greatest fear has surfaced. I wonder did this happen to you on the battlefield? Did you get a glimpse of the one regret, the one fear you had when you were close to death? I’ve uncovered my fear and it is that you don’t believe me. I laughed for a long time at that. But it’s true I’m worried that you changed your mind about me and my account of things. If no-one knows of my brilliance, then my life will have been for nothing. That would just be the most awful thing. I must admit that I did lie to you a little. I think deep down, in the case of John, it was just the killing which interested me, rather than killing him in particular. Then, Frank Hockley made me see red on more than one occasion. He really was a vile man! But it was for no great purpose or reason. I just wanted to do it and it thrills me still to think of it. Isn’t that terrible?

  I hope you got to hear all of my exploits in my other letters. However, I’ve not heard from you and I’ve told you everything and suddenly I feel very vulnerable and uneasy. I’m worried that either you aren’t aware of the other letters, or that you think I am deranged? I also am worried that you don’t believe women are capable of su
ch thoughts and deeds? I fear that is why the Sinful Roses have stayed hidden for so long. There is no consideration given to the depravity of the female mind and heart. Perhaps it is a good thing that we are considered above men in such matters? But then, the Sinful Roses would win, and I cannot have that! It is all true. All of it! The Sinful Roses have always been on this earth and will always be amongst us. I’m far from perfect. I’m far from Good, but I rarely lie.

  I also want to say this, Laurie. I swear it with all my heart. John Good FELL down those stairs. I owe the Roses nothing. I just wanted to walk away then from all of the urges I had, but they were not happy. I firmly believe it was they who drove me to those other crimes. They put pressure me and then, to silence me, they tried to kill me. They will do so again. If they hear I am alive they will not rest. I promise you that too. Lydia Dornan and Alice Longmire are Sinful Roses. Every Rose knows that death is the only reason for being a Sinful Rose and is also the only way to leave.

  By the way, I never liked that Norah. If it is she who is reading this then she will learn how I feel about her. But I don’t care. She possibly won’t read you this next bit, but I pray that by some stroke of luck it is someone else reading these words for you. You couldn’t see the way Norah looked at me. I closed my eyes to her because I thought she’d kill me with her looks alone. If she is not a Sinful Rose, then I’ll eat my hat! I saw that you wore a wedding ring and that she didn’t. You called her Miss Walsh, but I hope that you’re not thinking of marrying her? I could tell that you have a fondness for each other. I only hope that Norah is not your fiancée.

  I hope that somehow you get to hear my words. I pray that you listen. You should worry about women killing men. Look at me. We exist.

  I don’t want to die alone. My spirit will always watch out for you, because you were respectful. But, Mr Davenport, I am depending on you to bring this to a happy or at least satisfactory conclusion. I trust in you as I hope you trust in me,

  Your friend in life and death,

  Eve Kanaster

  Giles throws the letter on the table.

  I breathe deeply. The birds in the garden sound very loud.

  Chapter 40

  Norah Walsh

  I’ve at last been summoned by the Sinful Roses. In my initial ‘application’ I wrote that I’m unmarried and with no reason to hurt anyone, and my need for them is sheer ambition to learn and find purpose in my life. Several phone conversations with Alice Longmire followed as she vetted me. She sounded positive but she didn’t commit to taking me on.

  The whole process made me nervous. But they still want me because a second summons has just arrived.

  Attend Sinful Roses meeting 11th August 1944. Eleven o’clock. At 208 Kensington High St, Kensington, London.

  There’s a nice feeling behind the terrifying one. Finally, I’m accepted. The scary thoughts come from the fact that there’ll be no going back now. I will just have to go and meet with them.

  Like others before me I’m looking for something greater than myself. I need to be more than a wife and mother lingering in a kitchen. Lady of a Manor isn’t even enough! Leaving Ireland, I knew I’d find it hard if not impossible to return to the place of my birth. I have outgrown Meath. This is more like the place I saw myself. In charge, in control and making something meaningful happen in my life.

  “Too big for her boots,” the women outside Mass in Ireland would say. “She’s got notions about herself.”

  That would be exactly right. I want this more than anything.

  I look at the swirling handwritten note and think on Eve’s first description about going to Ravenscairn to meet with the murdering wives. She was bored, she wanted to belong and she saw the Sinful Roses as an exciting diversion to her mundane life.

  Right now, I understand that. I’m sinking and the Roses feel like a life-raft. I’m no longer in Davenport Manor, or in the arms of a lord or a general. The poky flat I’m in smells of damp and the bombs come closer and closer. The sirens screech through the night and the fearful time in the Underground is just giving me time to dream of a way out of being a terrified woman alone.

  I’m tired of trying to thrive in a man’s world. Let’s see how it goes being in a woman’s one. With the Roses, how will my life be? The curiosity is killing me. What will they expect of me?

  What was it Alice Longmire said? “We all know that you’ve found a taste for this work. Like some of us you’ve taken a shine to the thrill of it all. The Roses need good leaders now, Norah Walsh.”

  Being a leader of like-minded women sounds good to me. I’ll go where I’m wanted the most. Turning my back on my own is what I do, but something tells me that ignoring the Roses is not a sensible thing to do.

  Laurie’s handsome smile is in my mind as I put on my lipstick in the mirror and dab the last of my perfume between my breasts. In going to meet with these women, I might also find out if Laurie is still on their list. If I could steer their wrath elsewhere, it would be a good thing. Learning all I can about them will help me keep Laurie safe. This is what I tell myself as I put on my coat and fix my hat.

  I cross the road to catch the bus. What is it I heard my mother say when I was a little girl? “Say what you like about those Sinful Roses, but they have my respect. They’ve got power and isn’t that just what we all need? And may God Himself grant them all that they need to help others.”

  I could pretend that I’m on this bus to help Laurie and other needy men and women but, to be honest, it is the word ‘power’ that’s ringing in my ears. For once, just once, Norah Walsh would like to be the most powerful person in a room.

  Chapter 41

  Laurie Davenport

  “Sir, I’ve just noticed something. The word Ravenscairn. It’s circled on this newspaper – one of the papers Norah had. The ones I removed from this room.”

  “What?” I gasp.

  “I was having a look through them and I spotted it.”

  My emotions flicker and fade.

  “Read it,” I say.

  “Very well, sir. It says: ‘Friends of the Sinful Roses be advised that a Ravenscairn House is open. Send personal details to c/o Sinful Roses PO Box 77 at 208 Kensington High St, Kensington, London. Appointments will be given if investigations establish need.’”

  I am stunned. She has deceived me.

  “We must go there, Giles. We must go there now.”

  “How, sir? How do we get there? And why are we going?”

  “We watch and wait. Well, you watch and I wait.” I get to my feet and head for the door. “Call us a hire car and perhaps we should call Freddie.”

  Freddie doesn’t come to the phone but I press his secretary to let me speak with him. “It’s urgent. A matter of life and death.”

  “Is this about Eve’s letter?” he asks when he comes on the line. “Isn’t it worrying? When you made enquiries I sent it on so that you might be wary again for your safety. I told Norah that we shouldn’t have kept it from you.”

  “She wanted to keep it from me?” I say as my heart sinks to my feet. “Freddie, Giles found Norah has circled the very thing she told me she couldn’t find. The Ravenscairn location that exists in London. She lied to me that there was no mention of it in the papers! Do you think ... I cannot believe that she has anything to do with the Sinful Roses. Please tell me that she’s not kept anything more from me?”

  “Women cannot be trusted. Why do you think I’m single at my age? But I trust Norah implicitly. Sit tight, my good man. I promise you that all will be well. I know Norah and she may be hiding secrets but she has her reasons. Just tell Giles to get that pistol out from under his pillow and listen out for intruders. Be vigilant. All should be all right.”

  “Sometimes all right just isn’t good enough,” I say, exhausted. “I want my sight back and I need to stop getting teary at everything.”

  Freddie coughs – he’s not wishing to talk about emotions. “It looks like your friend, Eve Kanaster, was worried you wouldn’t believ
e her. She was quite taken with you, Laurie. One good thing is that you still seem to have a way with the ladies!”

  “I seem to be a soft touch for criminal women, you mean!”

  “Ah now, Laurie, that is the old nonsense talk returning. You’ve made great progress with Eve Good and finding a new role for yourself.”

  “Yes, even before the letter, I was finding it hard to think of Eve dying alone in her room. I’ve thought of suicide, Freddie, but I never could have gone through with it.”

  “Good, good.” Freddie sounds distant, like he has heard too much from me.

  “Before you go, Freddie, why would Norah not tell me about the advertisement? She knew I couldn’t read the papers. She knows I cannot see and would possibly never know about it. I am devastated, Freddie. I feel cheated. More than that. I am betrayed.”

  “I’m not the man to talk to about all of this. All I know is, Laurie, you’re going to be all right. You just have to give all of this time and trust Norah.”

  “Time?”

  “And patience! Please just wait and have faith. Now, I really must go. I hope that you’ll consider writing all of this out for my reports when Norah comes back.”

  “Eve would like that,” I whisper, for as odd as it sounds I miss her. “She respected me and didn’t pity me. Eve Good trusted me and told me the truth. Every other woman in my life since this blasted war has let me down in some way.”

  I hang up the phone without waiting on Freddie to speak.

  “Giles, get our coats and hire a car, for we are going to Ravenscairn.”

  We get to the address and Giles watches the front door like a hawk. Nothing of note is happening and his impatience with me is making me even more nervous.

  “What’s happening now?” I ask.

  “Nothing has changed and the driver has taken off for a walk as he’s had enough of sitting outside an abandoned house for hours at a time!” Giles replies. “I don’t blame him. This is pointless.”