Gill, suffering from no fatal disease or mental problem, living in luxury, rich enough to survive a worldwide financial crisis, enjoying at least one loving mistress, was going to commit suicide? Even Salas would accept that he was not.
In the sitting room, Mary was knitting. She looked up, said ‘Damn!’ and looked back down at the knitting, fiddled with the needles.
‘Lost a stitch?’ he asked.
‘Two.’
He sat. ‘Do you do a lot of knitting?’
‘What else is there for an oldie to do but that and watch the telly?’
‘I’ll never see a younger oldie.’
‘How do you manage always to say the right thing?’
He smiled.
‘Have I said something amusing?’
‘Many people would suggest I never manage to say the right thing.’
‘Then they don’t know you.’ She had regained the stitches and started another row. ‘I’m making a baby jacket for the wife where I get the Sunday papers and quite often a daily one. She told me what was very obvious and is worried because her husband isn’t well and she has to be in the shop all day, every day, and there isn’t the time to prepare for the coming baby. I said she should close in the afternoons and evenings, and she said she’s not allowed to. Is that right?’
‘Newsagents have to be open all day, every day. That law was meant to encourage people to read.’
‘Surely, there isn’t anyone now who doesn’t? So why not relax the law?’
‘Politicians don’t worry about the effects of the laws they promulgate unless they become involved in the consequences. And when you say everyone now is literate, that’s almost true but, not so many years ago, some people had to give their fingerprint instead of a signature at a bank because they could not write.’
‘Then there’s been real progress.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Why the doubt?’
‘Years ago, the elderly were cared for by their children, drugs were virtually unknown, houses were affordable, every possible square metre of land was cultivated and did not grow thistles and brambles.’
‘You’d like the country to be back in those days?’
‘When there was hunger, when one could not afford a visit to a doctor, and when one endured toothache because there was no dentist within a mule ride? Sadly, it seems there can never be a world that is all light, there has to be a matching darkness . . . I am talking too much and boring you.’
‘That you are not. And you have to keep talking to tell me what you’ve learned.’
‘The señor’s will provides several legacies, otherwise you inherit the estate. A large sum of money is involved and I advise you to speak to a top tax adviser in Palma in order to escape the shark jaws of the tax inspectors. Left unchallenged, they will strip a person of every last euro.’
‘Can you suggest someone?’
‘I will find out who can be most trusted to act for you, not the government. There is something more. You know there is considerable jewellery in the safe?’
‘It was Robin’s wife’s. She inherited some of it, Robin gave her the rest. He wanted me to have it, but if I wore such beautiful things . . .’ She stopped abruptly.
She might have told him he said the right thing at the right time, but now he could think of nothing to say. To wear such glittering beauty would be to exacerbate the misfortune of her deformity; it would attract the unwanted attention of men. ‘I would judge the jewellery to be very valuable; at a quick glance, none of it appeared to be imitation.’
‘It isn’t. Robin had a hatred of anything false which tried to make out it was genuine. The reproduction Hepplewhite presented as original. It was the same with people. If someone genuinely needed help, he would give it. If they did so just because he was wealthy, he would have no truck with them. He was like that with the Phillipses. I sometimes wondered if he’d been tricked by a so-called friend when young.’
‘Who are they?’
‘Live in one of the biggest houses, drive a Rolls and get stuck in the village corners, own a large motor yacht, frequently go on world cruises in one of the top suites. Quite a few people here live that kind of life, but most of them do so unostentatiously. Meet the Phillipses and within minutes you learn they’re very wealthy, had noble ancestors who left them their seat in one of the shires, would be on every A-list of celebrities had they wished to be. At the same time, they are contemptuous of “little people”, by which they mean those who have small houses or live in a village, whose accent is often described as uneducated, who have to watch every euro. When a firm does badly, there are redundancies and people appear on television saying they don’t know how they can manage with mortgages, credit card debts, and so on, Frank Phillips will say they should stop bleating and think themselves lucky they aren’t thrown into a debtors’ prison.’
‘Sympathetic!’
‘Robin disliked them within minutes of meeting them. Dislike became anger when they were so damned rude to friends. George and Lilly Carson are short of money and have to cut corners, but you never hear them complain. Phillips had asked them to one of their ostentatious parties. Lilly rang us to say Frank had just been in touch to tell them he’d invited too many people so they were not to come. The not-so-rich or the unimportant were being discarded.
‘Robin said no one with manners and education could act like that and they had to be fakes. He’d find out who they really were. I thought he was just talking until he spoke to Alec, a retired detective, and hired him to dig out the truth.
‘It took time, but in the end we learned her name was Gertrude, not Guinevere, none of their ancestors had ever owned a large estate, a small estate, or anything better than a back-to-back, and Frank had made his money from pornography.
‘Had the information just been sufficient to burst the bubble of falsity, Robin would probably have leaked it, but as things turned out, he decided it would be too unkind to release the truth. We would have our private laugh when the Phillipses boasted about the grand family estate they had inherited. However, the news escaped. That had to be through Alec who probably at some time had been at the receiving end of the Phillips’ snobbery.’
‘Have they stayed on the island?’
‘Surprisingly. I suppose one should give them slight credit for facing all the jeering laughter behind their backs. Robin has a strange sense of humour . . .’ She stopped. ‘Had,’ she murmured. She looked away from him and it was a while before she continued speaking. ‘What started in fun, ended bitterly.’
‘As we say, if you don’t know where the journey will end, don’t saddle up.’
‘It’s easy to be wise afterwards.’
‘I wasn’t criticizing your uncle.’
She put knitting and needles into a wicker basket. ‘It sounded as if you were.’
‘Then I’m sorry.’
‘You think I’m being bitchy?’
‘No.’
‘It’s just . . .’
He accepted she was ready to find insult and criticism when not intended because grief sometimes provoked that need. He hoped a return to other matters would calm her. ‘As you said, the keys to the safe were in a drawer in the desk. They’re dangerously accessible and probably a desk drawer would be the first place where a thief would look. It would be a good idea to hide them very carefully, away from the library.’
‘You’re worried someone might break in to the house?’
‘Yes. And there could be a closer worry.’
‘How d’you mean?’ Her expression sharpened. ‘Are you suggesting the staff would steal?’
‘The jewellery is insured for tens of thousand of pounds.’
‘Pablo, Luisa, Eva, or Juanito wouldn’t touch an uncounted pile of a hundred euro notes. You just can’t understand loyalty. For you, everybody is a potential thief. I wonder who I am in that mind of yours?’
‘Someone who has had to suffer too much,’ he answered quietly. He stood. ‘Thank you
for your help.’
‘Enrique . . .’
He remained standing where he was.
‘I didn’t mean that. But I couldn’t bear your being suspicious of them when they’ve been so kind to me.’
‘I have no reason to suspect them, but I have met one or two people whose characters have been changed and ruined by money. If the keys are well hidden, your faith and my worries will be guarded.’
‘Very well. I’ll do as you suggest, not that I think it can possibly be necessary, but because you want it.’
‘Peace is declared?’
‘Did I sound as if war had begun?’
‘Which I provoked . . . There is one more question.’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you know Miranda Pearson?’
‘No. Should I?’
‘She has been left ten thousand pounds.’
She said nothing.
He looked at his watch. ‘I really must leave, much as I’d like to stay.’
‘You’ve lost your nerve?’
‘In what way?’
‘You are having lunch here.’ She laughed. ‘Now I know how a man looked when asked to dine with a de’ Medici. But before anything else . . .’
He waited.
‘I’ve been told the funeral can now take place.’
‘Will you be on your own?’
‘Luisa and Pablo will be with me.’
‘Good.’
‘I’ve arranged for a cremation.’
Something of which the average Mallorquin disapproved. Without a grave, how could one been seen regularly to lay flowers on it, showing the dead was not forgotten. He spoke carefully. ‘I think after the funeral you will be able to accept an end and this will afford some relief.’
‘Does it?’
‘I found it so.’ A relief from harsh mental pain, but not from sorrow – that might never end.
TEN
‘You have carried out my orders?’ Salas asked over the phone.
‘Yes, señor.’
‘But have not seen fit to make a report.’
‘There’s been so much to do.’
‘Were I to accept your words without reservation, I could enjoy the picture of your working hard. Have you questioned Señorita Farren?’
‘At considerable length.’
‘You were able to overcome your sympathy for her emotional state?’
‘Yes.’
There was a silence.
‘Despite working so hard, you have learned nothing?’
‘On the contrary, I have learned several important facts.’
‘Am I to be permitted to learn what those are?’
‘The señorita gave me permission to open the señor’s safe . . . Or should I say, the señorita’s safe? The estate has been left to her, so I suppose the safe and its contents are now hers. I have read copies of his will – one is in English, one is in Spanish.’
‘Did you compare them to make certain the details are similar?’
‘Yes.’
‘What are the main details?’
‘As I have mentioned, the señorita is left the estate, subject to certain legacies. I have made a rough estimate of the capital. The total is very nearly two million pounds, the jewellery is insured for seventy-five thousand. Then there’s the house and land. I suppose that would be worth close on another million euros to someone who does not suffer from altophobia.’
‘Who can control his own mind. The will clearly provides the motive for murder and potential identification of the prime suspect.’
‘Are you suggesting Señorita Farren again? That is . . .’ He stopped.
‘You wish to complete your sentence?’
‘It is the possibility, señor, which is unlikely. In no circumstances would I refer to a decision of yours as ridiculous.’
‘You have not previously done so?’
‘The legacies provide fifteen hundred pounds for three of the staff, a thousand for the fourth. The question raised is, could these relatively small sums provoke murder? On the face of things, almost certainly not. And how could any member of the staff know the details of the will when it was in the safe? Yet the keys were easily accessible.’
‘My understanding of what you have said is that they might or they might not, which has the benefit of being a logical, if useless, conclusion.’
‘The keys of the safe were left in a drawer of the desk in the library. A member of the staff might well have discovered them there, opened the safe, and read the will. Which raised further questions. Would not he, or she, also have stolen something from the contents? Cash or a little jewellery. Again, why would the thief be such a fool as to imagine he, or she, could sell something of such quality without drawing attention to himself or herself? Would the risk of discovery not militate against theft since that would ensure the loss of the legacy.’
‘Have you concluded your summary of probabilities, possibilities, and impossibilities?’
‘Yes, señor.’
‘I am grateful.’
‘There is a further bequest of ten thousand pounds to Miranda Pearson. This raises the question . . .’
‘Restrict yourself to answers.’
‘Señorita Farren has never heard the señora’s name mentioned. I think it probable she is an old friend and the gift was for services rendered.’
‘You consider friendship to be a service?’
‘Very close friends.’
‘There is significance in the addition?’
‘Señor, one does not leave a large sum of money to a woman who is unknown to the family unless there has been a close relationship which is remembered with pleasure or reproachful guilt.’
‘And which would you choose?’
‘Perhaps both.’
‘Naturally. My friend, the eminent psychiatrist, will be interested in this latest evidence of satyriasis.’
‘I have learned that there exist motives for murder other than money, although one of them is concerned with money.’
‘It might add verisimilitude to your report if you do not continually contradict yourself. Either what you are about to say is concerned with money, or it is not.’
‘In amongst the papers in the safe was an IOU for ten thousand pounds, signed by Timothy Kiernan. If Kiernan has not been in a position to repay this considerable sum, he may have decided to cancel the debt physically.’
‘Leaving the IOU in the safe to inculpate himself?’
‘He may claim he repaid the debt, but Señor Gill had forgotten to destroy the IOU.’
‘Such claim can be rebutted by examining the bank balances of Señor Gill, as you will do.’
How many hours work would that involve? ‘Señor, the sum may have been paid in cash which was not put into a bank . . .’
‘No man in his right senses keeps thousands of pounds or euros in cash.’
‘You have not heard of Old Jacobo Martinez. He was a recluse.’
‘Then I am hardly likely to have heard of him.’
‘When he died, there were a hundred and forty thousand pesetas hidden in a box in his tumbledown caseta.’
‘One would expect an Englishman to have more intelligence than a Mallorquin peasant. And the payee would have demanded the IOU in order to destroy it.’
‘One should also consider whether it might be a hoax.’
‘What impossibility are you proposing now?’
‘As a joke, Señor Gill might have made out the IOU and signed it with the name of Kiernan, shown it to friends and complained he had not been repaid.’
‘Then his mind must be on a par with that of the man who can think up such a possibility.’
‘His niece described him as having a puckish sense of humour.’
‘Does she know what humour means?’
‘He was clearly an unusual man. And his character provides another possible motive for his death. Señorita Farren explained that he had a very strong aversion to fakes; things which were presented as what they were n
ot . . .’
‘Such as inspectors?’ Salas suggested.
‘People who tried to make out they were much grander than they were. There’s an English couple, Phillips, who live in the area. Apparently, they present themselves as being very well connected, they inherited a large country property which they sold and explains their wealth, and because of their supposed superior background, do not like to acknowledge those they consider to be “little people”.’
‘Such traits distinguish them from many of their compatriots?’
‘Señor Gill was convinced they were frauds. And when they were very rude to his friends, he decided to find out if he was right. He hired a retired English detective to uncover their true background.
‘He learned the Phillipses were of plebeian ancestry and had not inherited a large country estate. He had made his money from pornography.’
‘Your interest is explained.’
‘Señor Gill had never intended the information to become known to others, but through no fault of his, it did. When the Phillipses understood they were being viewed with derision instead of envy, it must have been like a draught of poison. The cloak had been lifted to reveal them naked.’
‘You lack sufficient artistic talent to talk nonsense.’
‘Señor Phillips must have been determined to get his own back.’
‘You are presenting that as a motive for Señor Gill’s murder?’
‘Yes, señor.’
‘Extremely weak.’
‘I disagree. Would you not feel so angry, you’d want to revenge yourself if someone was responsible for making it known that you had only been promoted superior chief because you had a powerful relative in the government and that you led a luxurious life because on the side, you ran a brothel?’
‘Your insolence has gone too far.’
‘I am merely trying to explain why I consider Phillips had sufficient reason to murder Señor Gill.’
A Question of Motive Page 9
