Screaming Yellow

by Rachel Green

  “Where is he?” Jean leaned forward. “He’s wanted by the police. If you’re sheltering him…”

  Meinwen raised a hand. “All will be revealed in good time.” She pulled a sheet of paper from her printer tray. “Now, are we all here?” She read out the names on the sheet. “Mrs. Jean Markhew and her daughter Mary.” She nodded to them both. “Mrs. Godwin, Susan Pargeter and Nicole Fielding.” She caught their eyes as she called out their names. “Amanda James and Peter Numan.” She put the paper down and smiled. “And Father Brande, Jennifer and myself, of course. You are all suspects in the murder of Robert Markhew seven days ago.”

  “This is preposterous.” Jean began to rise in her chair.

  “Sit down, Mrs. Markhew.” Meinwen copied the older woman’s tone and she did as she was told.

  “Robert Markhew had dinner with Jean, Mary, Father Brande and his sister, Jennifer. They were served by Amanda.” Meinwen lowered the paper and grinned. “I feel like Poirot doing this. Will the real murderer please stand?”

  Jean frowned. “Do get on with it. Nobody would answer such a stupid request.”

  Meinwen dipped her head. “After dinner Robert and Simon discussed the death of Grace Peters in the study culminating in Robert coming out and asking for the morning’s post when Amanda gave him a letter. He returned to the study but asked Simon to leave.” She paused. “Why did he not receive it in the morning with the rest of the post?”

  Susan coughed. “Because I hand-delivered it in the middle of the day.”

  Meinwen nodded. “Exactly. I should very much like to see that letter. Did you read it, Miss Pargeter?”

  Susan shook her head. “No. Mother…Mrs. Peters had already sealed it, and it would have been a breach of my position to open it.”

  “A pity.” Meinwen smiled. “Still, I commend your ethics.” She twisted her computer chair around and sat. “The next we know of Robert Markhew was his argument, overheard by Peter Numan, with an unknown someone at nine-thirty.”

  “That was obviously Richard,” said Jean. “He must have been there.”

  “Must he?” Meinwen held up a hand. “Bear with me for a little longer. No one else saw Mr. Markhew after that time.”

  “But Mary…” Jean began.

  Meinwen held up her hand again. “For reasons of her own, which I believe are truthful, Mary did not say goodnight to him. The next sighting we have of Robert Markhew was at eleven-thirty when the study door was broken down and his body was discovered.”

  She paused and reached out for a cracker biscuit, breaking it into two pieces. “May I have a cup of the coffee?”

  Amanda, who was sitting on the floor, waited for a nod from Jean before pouring it.

  Meinwen took a sip and ate half the cracker. She waved a hand at the refreshments. “Do help yourselves.”

  Amanda poured a cup for Jean and Peter reached for the biscuits.

  Meinwen began to count off the people on her fingers. “Jean, Mary and Amanda were all together until nine-ten. None of them have an alibi afterward.” She ignored Jean’s protest. “Peter Numan was at the White Art until nine-twenty, after which he shares an alibi with Nicole Fielding. Susan Pargeter has a verified alibi until nine twenty-five and none thereafter. Catherine Godwin has no alibi at all, and neither does her husband, Richard.”

  “There.” Jean nodded sharply. “Need we look any further for the killer?”

  Meinwen raised her eyebrow. “I think we do. The crux of the matter is the argument that Peter overheard when Robert was arguing at nine-thirty. But what if there was no one in the room with him at that time?”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Peter gestured with a biscuit. “I know what I heard.”

  “I have no doubt you heard Robert arguing. What I am questioning is whether it was live.”

  There were several creased foreheads. Simon laughed. “What a ridiculous thing to say, Meinwen. What are you talking about?”

  Nicole spoke up. “His laptop. He recorded his books all the time onto his laptop and I transcribed them afterward. Think of it as a Dictaphone. He had speech recognition software installed and one of my jobs was to make sure the recordings and the documents matched.”

  Meinwen nodded. “I know. One of those recordings was of an argument between Catherine and Robert. I think it was set to play at nine-thirty, long after Robert was dead.”

  “Is that even possible?” Jean looked at Nicole. “I don’t know enough about them.”

  “It’s perfectly possible, Mother,” Mary replied. “We covered it in IT at college.”

  “So the murder was committed even earlier than we thought?” Jennifer asked. “How early? Do we know?”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that Richard could still have done it,” said Jean. “It’s suspicious, the way he disappeared.”

  “He didn’t go far away,” said Meinwen. “Not very far away at all.”

  “Where then?” asked Jean.

  Catherine looked up, realizing her husband had been upstairs all along.

  Meinwen smiled. “Let’s ask him, shall we?” She raised her voice. “Richard? Would you come downstairs, please?”

  Chapter 32

  Everyone’s faces turned to the open stairwell as a young man came down.

  “Richard!” Catherine rose from her chair and ran to him. He embraced her hard until she had to gasp for him to release her. He was reluctant and maintained a lighter contact, his fingertips gliding across her waist and shoulders.

  “I’m sorry, Catherine.” He buried his face in her hair for a moment. “It was best to be in hiding.”

  “I was so sure the police had caught you.” She pulled his face down for a kiss. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”

  Meinwen was so pleased to see how much the young couple was in love. “My fault, I’m afraid. That was a ruse I made up. The inspector went along with it hoping to shake the murderer out of his complacency.”

  Jennifer pouted. “But I believed you. I told all my friends.”

  “I know. We were counting on you doing exactly that.” Meinwen shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “Where have you been, Richard?” asked Jean. “The police have been looking for you all over the country.”

  “I know Aunty Jean, I’m sorry.” Richard allowed himself to be led into the room where he perched on the edge of the armchair next to his wife. “I’ve been right here in Laverstone, all along. It was for the best.”

  “Did you kill your stepfather?” Nicole asked. “We’ve all been under suspicion for it.”

  Richard shook his head. “I didn’t kill him. As much as Robert and I argued, I’ve never wanted him dead. I wish Catherine hadn’t told him about us, though.”

  Mary punched him on the arm. “You might have told me. I was making plans for our wedding.”

  Richard laughed. “Sorry Mary. I know I’m not your type anyway. A marriage with me would have been a sham. A lucrative one for you, perhaps, but you should marry for love, not money.”

  Mary shook her head. “That’s something the rich say.”

  Jean sat up straight in her armchair and asked again. “So tell us where you were all this time?”

  Meinwen looked at the priest. “I think that Simon should answer that. I said every one of you had a secret. He was the only one not to give his up. I had to find out about it myself.”

  They all looked at Simon, who blushed beneath their gaze. “All right,” he said, holding up his hands. “When I left The Larches after the murder I went down to the White Art where Richard was staying. It was all locked up, of course, but Mike let me in through the resident’s door.”

  “That’s right,” said Richard. “I knew nothing about it until Father Brande told me. I was stunned.”

  Simon nodded. “It was obvious Richard would be the major suspect in the case and that even if he was innocent he’d have to testify against another member of his family. Probably Catherine, since she was about to be a major suspect as well.”

  “Th
at was awful,” said Richard, squeezing his wife’s hand. “When you told me you’d had a fight with Robert and told him about our secret wedding, I knew he’d want to change his will. You knew how much I was banking on my inheritance, so I thought…”

  “You thought that I had killed him?” Catherine’s face fell. “How could you possibly think you’d married someone capable of murder?”

  “Sorry.” Richard shrugged.

  “It was reasonable,” said Simon. “You do have a quick temper.”

  “What could I do but flee?” asked Richard. “I didn’t know where to go, though. That’s where Simon helped me.” He smiled at his extended family. “Simon’s always helped me. Ever since my mother died he’s been more of a father than Robert ever was. He offered me a place to hide.”

  “Yes.” Simon smiled. “It was fortuitous, really. Old Tom had gone to see his brother for a few days. There was an opening at the church. Since Old Tom didn’t really mix with the parishioners, I didn’t think anyone would notice if Tom was a different man.”

  Richard shrugged. “It’s quite interesting really. I never really realized there was so much to that job. It was quite peaceful to work in the church and graveyard. It was me who dug Robert’s grave. I gave him a eulogy in my own way.”

  “That’s all very well, Richard, but where does that leave us?” asked Jean. “Do you have a– What’s it called…an alibi for the time when Robert was murdered?”

  Richard shrugged and gripped Catherine’s hand even harder. “I was in my room at the Art. All I did all night was compose half a dozen letters to Robert and Catherine and read a book.”

  “You should have come forward,” said Nicole. “The police would have sorted it out.”

  “I didn’t dare,” Richard replied. “I was sure that they would arrest me as soon as look at me.”

  “How did you find him?” asked Simon. “I thought he had the perfect hiding place, right out in plain sight.”

  “Mary found Catherine’s ring and gave it to me,” said Meinwen. “It’s quite a distinctive one, I must say, and matches the necklace I saw her wearing when we interviewed her at The Larches. When I was in the churchyard looking at the old stone I saw two people making love on one of the tombstones.”

  “You didn’t!” Simon was shocked. “Richard? You didn’t, did you?”

  Richard had the temerity to look sheepish. “I told you I’d never cheat on the woman I love. And I haven’t. When I saw Catherine come to the church to pray I couldn’t help revealing myself to her. I missed her terribly.”

  Catherine squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. He smiled back, raising her hand to kiss.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Catherine,” Meinwen said. “You lied about knowing where he was. At the very least you hampered the investigation. Unless you’re very lucky you could be charged with obstructing a murder investigation. You distinctly told me you hadn’t been in contact with him, let alone that you were shagging him at lunchtimes.”

  “Sorry.” Catherine sniffed.

  “Sorry won’t cut it. You’ll have to tell Inspector White and hope that he looks kindly on the folly of a newly-wed couple.” She withdrew a sheet of paper from her printer tray. “The police are aware of your liaison already. I sent them DNA samples to find out the identity of ‘Old Tom.’ They came back as Catherine Latt and Richard Godwin. That’s when I realized the wedding band Mary found and the one on Tom’s finger were identical and therefore you were married.”

  “What about your cellphone?” asked Mary. “I tried to call you a hundred times.”

  Richard smiled and reached into his pocket. “I lost it on the night of the murder. I had to buy a new one.” He laughed. “This new phone is great. I can read books on it, take photos and play games. Look, I’ve got some great shots of the church for your website, Simon. I’ll show them to you later. One or two are from inside Robert’s empty grave.”

  “What happened to your old one?” Meinwen asked. “Do you have any idea how it turned up outside your stepfather’s study window?”

  “I don’t know,” Richard said. “It must have been stolen in the pub. Mike said he’d keep a look out for it but it never turned up. I don’t know how it got outside his window.”

  “The murderer was framing you,” said Nicole. “It wasn’t me. I was…occupied elsewhere.”

  Richard laughed and looked at Peter. “I can guess where, although Peter was in the pub that night. I saw him.”

  “I was, yes.” Peter grinned. “I was playing darts.”

  “I was reading, actually,” said Nicole. “Admittedly, it was in Peter’s room, but still…”

  “That was a good idea of yours, Simon, to hide him as the curate,” said Meinwen.

  “Thanks.” Simon grinned. “It would have worked, too, if he’d been able to keep his hands off a wife I didn’t know he had.”

  “Sorry,” Richard shook his head, pulling his lips back from his teeth. “I would have told you but I couldn’t afford for Robert to find out.”

  “You could have told me in confession,” Simon said. “I would have kept the secret.”

  “I didn’t have anything to confess. There’s no sin in being in love.”

  “You didn’t help Richard at all,” said Meinwen, looking Simon in the eye. “What you did actually made the case against him much worse.”

  “I see that now.” Simon looked uncomfortable. “Sorry, Richard.”

  “You did what you thought was best, Father,” said Richard. “Don’t worry about it. If I’d been thinking clearly I would have gone and turned myself in straight away and let the police sort it out.”

  Nicole stared at them both for a moment. “So what’s your story, Richard?”

  He shrugged again. Even Meinwen was getting irritated with the gesture, more reminiscent of a teenager than of a married man. “You know Catherine and I had a row after she told Robert we’d got married?”

  Most of the room nodded.

  “Well, after she stamped on the ring and stormed off I went back to the house. There didn’t seem to be any point in going to inside to talk to Robert, not until he’d calmed down about it, anyway, so I left the ring on the fountain for Catherine. She always went there in the morning with a cup of tea, so I assumed she’d find it and take it back. After that I went back to the Art and bummed about in my room all night.”

  “What about food?” asked Meinwen. “Surely someone saw you eat, or delivered your food.”

  “I was too upset to eat,” he said. “I didn’t see anyone apart from Father Brande that night.”

  “That’s not good,” said Nicole. “You don’t have an alibi at all.”

  “Did you kill him?” asked Jean.

  “Certainly not,” said Richard. “I resent that.”

  Jean smiled with an expression more like a cobra about to strike. “I had to ask. Without an alibi, how could we know?”

  “That’s going to haunt me,” said Richard. “If I’d known he was going to be killed I would have gone down into the bar where people could see me.”

  “If you’d known he was going to be killed, you could have warned him.” Amanda stretched legs cramped from being caught between Jean’s chair and the coffee table. “Then none of us would be here.”

  “Ifs and buts,” said Meinwen. “They don’t serve any purpose. The only way to clear Richard’s name is if the real murderer confesses.” She looked at each person in the room, not really expecting any of them to pipe up. “You know who you are and I don’t want the confession tonight. Let’s look again at the suspects.”

  She picked up the sheet of paper. “If Robert was murdered between say, nine o’clock and eleven-fifteen, when Simon got the call, we have a smaller suspect list. Richard, of course, and Catherine who was in her room. Jean and Mary had alibis for part of that time while they said their goodbyes to Simon and his sister, but after that they went to separate rooms alone. Nicole claims that she was in Peter’s cottage until he returned at nine-thirty.�
��

  She paused. “I am satisfied with Amanda’s lack of motive and Nicole and Peter’s alibis are each other. A little suspect, perhaps, but again, they had little motive.”

  Nicole and Amanda let out sighs of relief, the others looked around the room, obviously wondering which of the others was the murderer.

  “Susan’s alibi is rock solid.” Meinwen put the sheet down. “I didn’t invite the police to this meeting on purpose though I will be informing Inspector White of my findings in the morning. I took a leaf out of Robert’s book and had my computer record the whole discussion, should I need to hand it over to them. For now, it’s been sent to a secure server.”

  There was an outbreak of muttering. Jean scowled. “You shouldn’t have recorded us without permission. I find that highly underhanded.”

  Meinwen closed her eyes and gathered patience in as if it were a fog surrounding her. “It will not be seen unless it needs to be. I suggest that you all go back to The Larches and be prepared for the revelation I make in the morning, unless the culprit makes his confession to save me the trouble. I must point out that it would go better for them if they did.” She ate the other half of the biscuit she’d started at the beginning of the discussion. “The meeting is over.”

  They began to stand, rubbing life into joints that had stiffened over the past hour. “Will that be the end of it then?” asked Jean as Amanda helped her on with her coat, “In the morning, I mean.”

  “I sincerely hope so, Mrs. Markhew,” Meinwen replied.

  “Why wait until morning?” Jean asked. “Aren’t you afraid that the killer will try to stop you?”

  “A little,” said Meinwen, “but I have to be sure and tomorrow morning I’ll know for certain.”

  “Would you like me to stay with you?” asked Peter after a glance at Jean. “You know I didn’t do it and I used to be quite handy on the rugby field.”

  Meinwen smiled. “Thank you, but that’s really not necessary.” She leaned in close and whispered. “Besides, Mary is single again, remember?”

  Peter smiled. “Good point. Er… You haven’t got some of that love potion you mentioned handy, have you?”