Dead Certainty

by Glenis Wilson

  ‘Tell me, Harry. I’ll use my judgement when I break whatever the news is.’

  ‘It’s Silvie … She died … yesterday.’

  ‘Oh, no, how awful.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘George will be upset, even though he wasn’t her …’

  ‘Yes, exactly, it’s OK, Aunt Rachel. I’ll leave it to you to tell him, when he’s stronger. Better go, I have to let her father know.’

  ‘Of course. And I’m so sorry. Let me know when the funeral’s fixed.’

  ‘I will.’ She rang off. I dialled Victor’s number. His response was predictably more emotional.

  ‘So young,’ he moaned, ‘so bloody tragic. It must be dreadful for you—’

  ‘Please, Victor, no sympathy. I can’t handle it.’

  ‘Of course, I understand. It’s knocked me over. And I never ever saw the poor child.’ He choked back a sob. ‘Keep me informed, you know, when all the formalities are fixed. I’ll see you at the funeral.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘And Harry, don’t worry about the solicitor, I’ll go and see him. One less job for you to do.’

  ‘Very thoughtful, Victor. Much appreciated.’

  ‘Least I can do.’

  ‘On a different subject, I’ve finished Elspeth’s biography. I’m going over to Unicorn Stables later this morning to give it to her.’

  ‘That’s good news, anyway. Hope she likes it.’

  ‘Yes, so do I. Bye, Victor. I’ll be in touch.’

  Mike was truly shocked by the news, as I knew he would be.

  ‘Do you want to come over to the stables, mate? Take your mind off it a bit.’

  ‘Thanks, but no. I can’t, Mike. I’d like to, believe me – your place represents sanity and I could do with a large dose, but there’s something I have to do. I’ve finished the biography and I’m taking it over to Elspeth’s this morning.’

  ‘Pleased you’ve finished it, but then, I never doubted you could do the job.’

  ‘What I’d like to ask is if I give you a ring when I get to Unicorn Stables, could you provide back-up if things turn rough?’

  ‘Sure thing. I told you I’m here for you when you need help. So, what do you want me to do?’

  ‘Could you meet me outside the stables and park up out of sight? Give me, say, half an hour to speak with Elspeth, and then if I haven’t come back out, steam on in.’

  ‘Sure, no problem. Tell me what time I need to meet you.’

  ‘How about ten o’clock? That suit you?’

  ‘Do fine, yes.’

  ‘Oh, and Mike, don’t let it throw you, but my left arm’s in a sling, better in a few days. It’s one of the reasons why I could use reserve muscle.’

  ‘Sounds like it. See you there, Harry.’

  And that left just one more person to ring.

  ‘Annabel Radcliffe, can I help you?’

  ‘Hello, Annabel.’

  ‘Harry, darling. Lovely to hear from you.’

  ‘Hmmm … perhaps it may not be, my love.’

  ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘Bad news. I can’t wrap it up and soften it or I would, Annabel. Silvie’s died.’

  ‘Oh my God! I thought she was getting better.’

  ‘We all did. I was called out to the nursing home the night before last. But you know hospitals. They’d rather tell you the bad news face-to-face instead of down a phone.’

  ‘Did you say the night before last? Why didn’t you tell me straight away?’ There was annoyance as well as grief in her voice.

  ‘Because that bastard in the balaclava arrived a while after I’d got there. I was sitting beside Silvie, just holding her hand—’

  ‘Was she still alive then?’

  ‘No. I wanted time with her, Annabel, just a little bit of time … you understand?’

  ‘Yes, I do, Harry, of course I do. I’m so, so sorry. I wish I could be beside you now, hold you …’

  I sighed. ‘You and me both. Anyway, that man came in through the window, all but laid me out with a monkey wrench and then took a swing at Silvie.’

  ‘No! Harry, I can’t bear it.’ She began to sob.

  ‘Steady on, girl, steady. I clouted him before the wrench hit Silvie; it connected with my left shoulder instead.’

  ‘How badly are you injured, Harry? Tell me the truth.’

  ‘Not badly injured. Had a few stitches put in and the doctor says I have to wear a sling for a few days to support my shoulder whilst it heals, but nothing more serious.’

  ‘Oh, thank heavens. What about that evil swine?’ It was rare that Annabel used strong language or spoke ill of anyone and it was a good yardstick to her depth of feelings.

  ‘He’s been carted away by the boys in blue. He’s in a cell as we speak. I think his name’s Frank Dunston and that he was responsible for Carl Smith’s murder.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Hmm, but we can leave all that to the police.’

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘When’s Silvie’s funeral?’

  ‘Don’t know yet, my love. Have to arrange all that with the undertaker. I’ve told Victor and he’s sorting things with the solicitor to help me out. As soon as I get a date fixed, I’ll ring you.’

  ‘Will it be at the local church?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Mother would have wanted that, plus I’d like her buried close to Mother’s grave. Seems fitting, don’t you think?’

  ‘I do, Harry. I do, my darling.’

  ‘Have to go now, Annabel. I’ve finished my work on Elspeth’s biography and I’m going over this morning to hand it to her.’

  ‘Well done. Always knew you’d do a good job.’

  Her voice had started to quaver and I knew she was trying to finish the call before dissolving into tears. Coward that I am, I didn’t want to hear her break down, or I would be joining her.

  ‘Must go. Ring you tonight.’

  ‘Bless you, darling. Bye bye …’ She was clearly weeping as she put down the phone.

  I walked stiffly and painfully through to the kitchen and made a very strong coffee. On cue, Leo pushed his way through the cat flap and stalked over to me, demanding breakfast. I fed us both before going up for a long shower. The hot water helped enormously with loosening up my battered body and I began to feel a great deal better. I needed to. I had to face Elspeth – and possibly, Marriot – in a short while. And it was going to be potentially very nasty.

  I dressed in my best dark suit. Very smart, very James Bond – except putting my arm in the sling rather spoilt the effect, but there it was.

  I made sure my mobile was charged and carefully put it into my right-hand pocket. I would need it when I got to Unicorn Stables. Picking up the precious hard copy of the manuscript, I locked the cottage door and crunched over the gravel to the Mazda. The postman arrived at the gate.

  ‘One letter for you, Harry. Hope it’s good news.’

  ‘Thanks, Phil. I could use some.’ I stuffed it in my inside breast pocket. I’d read it later.

  Half a mile from Unicorn Stables, I pulled into the side of the lane and dialled Mike’s number. We agreed to meet fifty yards from the entrance gates, leave him sitting in his car whilst I went on up to Elspeth’s house.

  ‘Good luck, mate.’ He gave me a cool, scrutinizing stare. ‘Sure you’re up for this on your own, especially with that?’ He nodded towards the sling.

  ‘Yes, Mike,’ I said. ‘I’ve worked out what the motive is. It was staring me in the face. It’s taken a long time because there are two interwoven threads, not just one, but I’ve finally unravelled it. Now I have to put it all to bed.’

  He gave me a short nod. ‘Watch yourself. Half an hour and I’m coming in after you.’

  I drove away, through the gate, up the drive to the big house. I’d phoned Elspeth a little earlier, made sure she knew I was coming. Was quite sure she in turn would make sure Marriot knew. Parking up near the front door, I took out my mobile and dialled. Spoke very shortly to the man who
answered then quickly ended the call. Done. Now I was committed, couldn’t back off.

  I reached up and knocked on the door.

  THIRTY-ONE

  ‘Harry. Welcome, do come on in.’ Elspeth smiled and held the door wide.

  It reminded me of what the spider said to the fly.

  ‘Elspeth.’ I stepped inside.

  ‘Have you brought my book?’

  ‘I have.’ I set down the last of the shoeboxes on her hall table and fished awkwardly in my briefcase for the manuscript.

  ‘So what happened to your arm?’

  ‘Accident. Nothing serious.’

  She nodded, her thoughts already focused on the biography. ‘Come through to the office. Coffee’s waiting in there.’ She led the way, hugging the block of printed foolscap to her breast. ‘Help yourself, Harry. Cream, honey.’ She tinkled a laugh. ‘I remembered, you see. Pour one for me whilst you’re about it. Oh, and take off your jacket, make yourself at home.’ I humoured her and did as she asked.

  She sank down on the swivel chair by the desk, moved the heavy glass ashtray, now empty of cigarette butts, out of the way and placed the paper on top of the desk. Flicking through the first few pages, she lifted her head and smiled. ‘I think I picked the right man for the job.’

  ‘Do you, Elspeth?’ I handed her a cup of coffee.

  ‘Hmmm.’ She took a sip. ‘Sure do.’

  ‘Well, I’ve made it as factually correct as I could, whilst maintaining your reputation.’

  ‘Which is what I wanted you to do.’

  ‘I have to say your party on Saturday helped enormously. Especially the input from Walter Bexon.’

  ‘Good.’

  I drank some of the excellent coffee whilst surreptitiously checking my watch. Ten minutes gone – twenty to go, possibly.

  ‘I have some bad news, Elspeth.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘My half-sister, Silvie …’

  She lifted her gaze from the book. ‘Yes?’

  ‘She’s died.’

  ‘Before she reached her birthday.’ It was said very quietly.

  ‘That’s right.’

  Elspeth released a long sigh. She added a dash of cream to her cup and stirred.

  ‘Victor was her father, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, but then you knew that, didn’t you?’

  ‘Not to start with, no.’

  ‘How much do you know, Harry?’ She continued to drink her coffee, watching me.

  ‘I know Marriot didn’t want me to write this book.’

  ‘True.’ She nodded.

  ‘So I had to ask myself the question, why? What does he have to hide?’

  ‘And have you found out?’

  ‘I believe so.’

  The office door closed very quietly but we both heard it and looked up. Marriot was standing just inside the room, leaning back against the door.

  ‘Talking about me, Radcliffe?’ His eyes, cold as a snake, were fixed on mine. I felt the adrenaline kick in and my heartbeat increase.

  ‘Admit it, Marriot, you didn’t want me turning up your little secret, did you? So you tried to scare me off, arranged the horsebox road block with Carl Smith. And when that didn’t work, you arranged a little spot of arson, again using Carl – which also failed.’ His jaw jerked and locked. He didn’t deny it. ‘I figured whatever secret you were trying to hide, it must be pretty important. And it took me a long time to unravel the trail. But I did, in the end.’

  ‘Shut up.’ He raised a fist in my face.

  ‘I had to decide what was the most important thing in your life – once I’d done that, the other bits of jigsaw pieces started to fall into place.’

  ‘Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you.’

  ‘Marriot!’ Elspeth rapped out. ‘Don’t be so stupid.’

  ‘At first I thought it was because you had a phobia about hospitals.’ He drew in a sharp breath. ‘You know, a guy wouldn’t want that made public, make him look a wimp. But it wasn’t that, no, it lacked clout. Wasn’t important enough. There had to be something else, something vital.’

  ‘I’m warning you, shut your mouth.’ His hands clenched and unclenched.

  ‘Control yourself, Marriot,’ Elspeth screeched. ‘Do you want an assault charge?’

  ‘The only thing I didn’t know, Marriot, was why you lied to Victor and Samuel.’

  He laughed harshly. ‘Got you. You think I’m going to tell you, asshole?’

  ‘No. I’ll tell you. Aunt Rachel and her niece were at the hospital. At the fertility clinic. They saw you coming out, face down in your boots.’ He froze. ‘Couldn’t reverse the effects or help you, could they?’

  ‘Bullshit!’

  ‘What you didn’t tell Chloe when you married her was that when you were twelve you had the mumps at the same time as you contracted glandular fever. Walter Bexon let it slip when I was taping his reminiscences. It left you infertile. And nothing means more to Samuel than family. Both he and Chloe are waiting for you to give them an heir to the Simpson business. And it’s not going to happen. So how long will your marriage last – and your posh house and your lucrative job – when they know?’

  With a roar of rage, he took me by surprise and flung himself at me. Fury lent him strength and I found myself on the floor. His boot lashed out and he deliberately kicked my injured shoulder. The pain was something else. I gagged and gasped for breath, dragged myself on to my knees, saw him coming at me again. I grabbed a corner of the desk to pull myself up. Waves of red-hot pain swamped me. I was not going to withstand a long session of fighting. He would be bound to win.

  My fingers knocked against the ashtray. I picked it up as Marriot leant over to put the boot into my shoulder again. As he drew back his leg for maximum power, I slammed the heavy glass down on to his head. The impact laid him out cold. Whilst I gasped for breath, riding out the raging agony ripping through me, he lay unconscious on the floor.

  Elspeth, white-faced, held herself rigid against the desk.

  ‘And you didn’t know, to begin with, did you, Elspeth,’ I gasped, ‘that Marriot ordered those attacks on me?’ She slowly shook her head. ‘You didn’t know because you were busy organizing Frank Dunston to kill Silvie.’ Her mouth dropped open. ‘Oh, yes, there were two threads to this vendetta. Firstly, Marriot, in his selfishness, trying to protect his future easy life. And then, secondly, there was you.’

  ‘What about me, Harry?’ Her voice was low, venomous.

  ‘You couldn’t bear to see Silvie turn eighteen and lay claim to her trust fund. A fund set up by Victor. You thought the money rightly belonged to Marriot as Victor’s legitimate son. So you set about trying to eliminate Silvie. And had Carl Smith killed to shut his mouth before he could blow the whistle on Marriot. You were all set to pin the murders on Victor, weren’t you, Elspeth? That’s why you stole his golfing gloves, gave them to Dunston to use at Leicester races. ’Course, they had to be worn over rubber gloves because of DNA, but they were supposed to be discovered with the traces of Carl’s blood on them.’

  She leaned back against the desk, a twisted smile on her face. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘You really should have passed your audition for RADA, Elspeth; you’re a superb actress. All that stuff about being friends with Victor after Marriot’s marriage, playing happy families – it was all a smoke screen for Samuel’s benefit. You never forgave Victor, did you?’

  ‘What a busy little boy.’ Her face contorted. ‘Yes, it was me. A mother will do anything for her child, didn’t you know that?’

  ‘I’ve just found out.’

  Her hand snaked round; she was holding a gun. ‘I keep this little beauty in my desk drawer for emergencies. You never know when you’ll get an intruder.’ She was laughing, hideously high-pitched, eyes wild.

  Bringing the gun up, she pointed it at my chest. ‘Do you know why I wanted you to do the biography?’

  I shook my head, playing along with her, playing for time, silently praying Mike woul
d come. The twenty minutes must surely be up now.

  ‘Because it had a kind of irony to it. Painting me in glowing colours, showing what a great woman I am.’ She paused for breath, panting heavily, waving the gun up and down. ‘And all the time, I was the woman who was going to destroy your sister.’

  My guts twisted with revulsion. She was obviously raving mad.

  Come on, Mike, come on … I prayed desperately.

  She laughed hysterically. ‘But I can’t let you destroy Marriot, you do see that, don’t you, Harry?’ Then she fired.

  The bullet struck me, the impact spinning me round, my injured shoulder pumping blood.

  ‘Couldn’t hit a barn door,’ she sang out, still laughing crazily.

  And then she deliberately took aim a second time.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the door opening. Elspeth, facing me, was unaware of it. In two strides, Mike came up behind her and threw both arms around her in a pincer movement, forcing the gun upwards. She screamed and the gun went off, plaster showering down as the bullet buried itself in the ceiling.

  For a few seconds Mike struggled to hold her, then managed to fling her down on the floor beside Marriot. We both fell on top of her, pinning her down.

  Outside in the hallway, there was the sound of running feet and three policemen burst into the room.

  EPILOGUE

  Rain had fallen during the night. The old flagstones leading from the lychgate to the church door were gleaming wetly in the weak sunlight struggling to break through the clouds.

  I felt Annabel squeeze my right elbow reassuringly as we led the rest of the mourners into the church. Mozart’s twenty-first was playing – my choice. Silvie was all love, through and through. She was the nearest thing to a sinless human being I’d ever met, which was why I’d chosen a white coffin for her. On the top of it lay a spray of white freesias.

  It was a beautiful service, with a simple hymn, ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’. And a perfect poem, ‘Miss me, but let me go’, simple words but oh so true.

  We laid her to rest in the cemetery close to Mother’s grave.

  Then Annabel, Sir Jeffrey, Aunt Rachel and I took ourselves off to Mike’s house for a wake that wasn’t. It ended more like an intimate family party with memories and jokes, anecdotes and laughter, and yes, salted here and there with tiny grains of grief. But it left us all lifted, accepting and lightened the day.