2 Children of the Plantation

by Faith Mortimer

  Steve looked splendid in a white tuxedo, freshly showered and shaved after their swim at the falls. He was heavily engaged in conversation with a fearsome looking cattle rancher from Texas.

  As Diana turned towards the smiling Chinese waitress and placed the empty glass on her tray, she caught sight of Miss Chalcot entering the terrace. She greeted a few of the nearby guests, smiling good-naturedly at their obvious pleasure in the evening's entertainment before making her way over to Diana's side.

  Diana greeted her, thinking she looked so much better than at their last meeting. Miss Chalcot, although still pale and thin, had a vivacity about her tonight which had previously been lacking.

  "I've been to see a new doctor in town. Old Hugh is pretty good on the usual family illnesses, but he needs a bit of an overhaul when it comes to more modern day medicine. He really should retire, but I haven't the heart to suggest it. This new doctor, who is Chinese by the way, believes in a special diet for my sort of cancer. Nothing as drastic as a cure, but she's found it can extend one's life by as much as two to four years. I've decided I need another couple of years before I finally hand in my slate. I'm told a positive mind is the best solution. So I'm going to follow the new diet and forget about being ill."

  "That's wonderful news. I'm pleased for you."

  "I understand you've made a lot of progress with the diaries, my dear," she said as she studied Diana.

  "I have actually. I've read all of them through once, and I've even started to write them into some sort of order. I'm taking notes on what I want to include in the story, and I've done a bit of research in your library and on the Internet."

  "Ah! The Internet. What a formidable invention that is. Of course we use it here, and I can use email and dabble a bit if I feel like it, but I often wonder if it's a good thing the world has such instant access to almost every piece of news. Now we know about every war, drought, famine and murder before it's even hit the press. Is that such a good thing, I wonder?"

  "I don't know. Sometimes I think I agree with you, but in my business it is very handy. Miss Chalcot, when we first discussed the project you said you wanted to put the record straight and this book would do that. I've been tying up loose ends and hopefully fitting everything into a neat story, but I feel I need to know exactly what you meant. I have some suspicions of my own, but I don't want to draw conclusions too soon."

  Miss Chalcot looked over to her other guests, watching as they drank their champagne or drifted around the floor in time to the music before replying. "The death of Father and Paul Tan has always preyed on the family. Each of us has had their own idea. Also, why was Paul Tan featured so heavily in things? Was he a traitor? And what was Father's role in all this?"

  "I found a newspaper cutting saying Sir Winston was working for the government and infiltrated a terrorist network."

  "Ah did you? I vaguely remember something being printed years later. But was he? Did he work for the government or was he a double agent?"

  "Is there nobody to ask? Sometimes I think that years later a mystery can be solved more easily if you look at it from a different point of view."

  "Exactly! And that is why I immediately thought of you after reading your work. You have a knack for these things, especially old mysteries."

  Again she paused and Diana wondered if she had drifted off on another thought.

  "Michael Browning knows more I'm sure, but talking to him is like getting blood from a stone. He changes the subject if I raise it," Miss Chalcot said.

  "Can I ask you a question then? Is Mira Paul Tan's widow?"

  Miss Chalcot stared at Diana before replying. "How on earth did you find out? You have done well. But I don't see what it has to do with my problem."

  "We guessed. Or actually Steve did. He remembered the name being brought up in one of the later diaries. It may be nothing and not at all related, but when we asked her today if she knew the way to the waterfall, she became all agitated and refused to answer us. Steve thought the place may have a special meaning for her. You know perhaps she used to meet Paul there regularly as lovers before they married."

  Miss Chalcot‘s face seemed even paler as she replied. "Perhaps. For some reason Mother started a pension for her after his death and insisted on finding her a job here with us. I was never very keen, but when Mother wanted something she was very tenacious. She's stayed ever since, but I'll get rid of her if she's going to become a nuisance."

  "Oh no, don't do that! We probably just confused her."

  There was a silence and excusing herself, Miss Chalcot made her way indoors.

  Diana looked round to see if Steve was free and espied Michael Browning as he carefully picked his way between the dancers towards her.

  "Good evening my dear, how nice to see you again."

  "Michael. I was just talking about you with Miss Chalcot."

  "Were you indeed? No wonder my ears were burning. Nothing good I hope?" His eyes twinkled at her and Di gave a delighted laugh.

  "I think you must have been a rogue in your day!"

  "What makes you think only in my day? Can I get you another drink?"

  Diana shook her head. "No thanks. I'm trying to keep off alcohol until after the baby's born."

  "Yes of course. So why were you discussing me then?" He showed Diana into a chair behind a small patio table and then sat down next to her.

  "I'm sure you can guess - Miss Chalcot and her family story. I know you warned me about not prying, but I might have to dig a little to get to the root of some things."

  "I suppose you mean Sir Winston's and Paul Tan's deaths?"

  "Yes that's probably her biggest concern, and I get the impression the children never really saw much of each other after that episode?"

  Michael looked thoughtful as if pondering how much to tell her. "No, I don't believe they did. I think I can tell you some more of the puzzle, but as I said before, if you make this into a published book, then you'll definitely have to change some names."

  "Of course, I'm not even sure I will publish it yet. Miss Chalcot has given me the go ahead, but I'll make the final decision once I've sorted everything out."

  "Very well then. Sir Winston was working for the government. He'd been recruited way back in the forties after the Second World War, as a sort of undercover agent. Nothing very much, but as he had a flourishing business out here and employed a huge number of local people, he was in an excellent position to discover any underhand goings on. We had the Malay Emergency, and following that we had the trouble with Indonesia's President Sukarno. Do you know about that little episode?"

  "Yes, both Steve and I did some research on it. It's very interesting stuff."

  "Indeed it is. Most of the actual fighting was in Borneo, where the British army lost some men including Ghurkhas, but it spilled over onto the Malay Peninsula. This is where Sir Winston came in. Sukarno had some of his men infiltrate this estate and other estates in the area, and Winston kept tabs on them."

  "I assume he spoke good Malay then?"

  "Impeccable. Perfect Malay and Cantonese too, Winston was very adept at picking up languages and local dialects."

  "How did it work? How did Sir Winston gather the information?"

  "Ah! I thought we'd get round to that." Michael leaned forward and took a sip of his champagne.

  Diana smiled. "I think I can guess. Was it Paul Tan?"

  Michael didn't immediately answer Diana; instead he looked around as if seeing who was within hearing. "Please, I don't want anyone hearing what I'm about to tell you." Michael looked concerned and raised his eyebrows while waiting for Di's response. She nodded and a gleam came into her eyes as she listened to his story.

  "Paul Tan was as slippery as an eel. He did work for the Malay government, but for a long time we were not sure whether he was actually a double agent. If you want my honest opinion, I'm still not one hundred per cent convinced, and I don't think Winston was either. The double shooting was never really resolved and that, young l
ady, is classified information. We suspected for a long time the two of them were assassinated by rebels. For some reason that day, Winston acted completely out of character and left a case of rifles lying unguarded in his study. It was unheard of for him to do something like that, and we never did get to the bottom of why he did so. One gun went missing that day, which we found a couple of days later in the forest."

  Diana nodded. "Yes, I read about it in the diaries. He'd given Alex a shooting lesson, and he'd taken the gun back to the study when the shooting took place. Miss Chalcot says the family are still unhappy over it."

  "I think you ought to ask Miss Chalcot a little about herself before you draw any conclusions."

  Diana frowned at his suggestion, not understanding exactly what he was intimating. "I'm not sure I understand," she began.

  "You must ask her about Alex. Only she can tell you."

  Diana looked at Michael for a moment. "Then I am right," she whispered.

  Chapter 24

  Diana thought it was time to tell Steve about her new findings and he agreed Michael Browning was right. The local people didn't have to know about Paul Tan's involvement with Sir Winston and the Malay dissidents. It was enough he had been the estate manager and was killed accidently in the study. As Michael Browning had explained to Diana, nothing more was done about Paul in case too much publicity brought about repercussions for his family. Despite capturing some of the insurgents, no one knew for certain how many others there were or who was a sympathiser. Paul Tan had been married to Mira and his wife later bore a child after Paul's death.

  "So what are your thoughts on the shooting then?" Steve asked as they were sitting down to lunch near the pool.

  Diana felt herself going red as she remembered her illegal scramble over Miss Chalcot's wall and hurriedly snatched a fan from her beach bag.

  "Crikey, but it's hot this afternoon. I may need a nap later." She waved the fan in front of her face. "That's better. Now, the shooting; well, I know the study layout has hardly changed since Sir Winston's time. Miss Chalcot has the original desk and it's along the same wall as it was back in the sixties. The diaries say Paul was standing in front of the desk and Winston was behind it."

  "So they couldn't have struggled over the gun."

  "No, I think that was just conjecture. Alex said it was pointed at him. Emma accused Alex of the shooting. I think I believe Alex. Emma was too wild with her accusations. I believe Paul was shot accidently with Alex's gun and Sir Winston was shot afterwards, probably from outside."

  "Outside?" Steve looked quite shocked at Di's statement. "Then that means…"

  "Yes. Sir Winston was murdered by another person."

  "And how do you deduce all this, Mrs Rivers?"

  If you look there's a balcony which runs along the study outer wall and the room next to it. That's the library and reading room."

  "Yes, I know it of course."

  "Well it's not really a balcony at all, just a narrow ledge only about wide enough for someone to stand on. The shot couldn't have come from far away as the angle into the room wouldn't be right due to the lie of the land, and you'd have to be a crack shot to hit the target. Besides, it's not a well-lit room and too shadowy even for a marksman. I believe someone stood on the balcony outside and shot Winston as he sat at his desk. If you go and examine the balcony, you'll see."

  "You've already done this haven't you?" Steve looked angry and hurt at the same time. "Why didn't you wait for me to come with you?"

  She looked a bit shame-faced as she admitted it. "Sorry. It was just a whim that came to me, and I had this hunch. Shall we go and take a look after lunch? We've nearly finished here."

  "I suppose so. Just don't go doing anything else daft. I know you. You always land yourself in trouble."

  Diana gave him a grin and returned to her delicious Nasi Goreng.

  ~~~~~

  Luckily, the library was empty when Steve and Diana entered. The room was nice and light and two of the walls boasted fitted bookcases which were crammed with reading material. Along one wall there stood a comfy-looking sofa and a couple of squishy armchairs with a low table standing in front. A writing desk stood in one corner near the French windows.

  Diana led the way to the window which was wide open and indicated the balcony to Steve. "See, it's very narrow but just about possible for someone to stand and aim into the room next door."

  "Very. I doubt if I could with my size tens though. I'd push myself off over the balustrade, as it's only just above knee height. This is just for show."

  "Exactly, and I've just had another thought."

  "Another? What's the first then?"

  "Well, you said your feet wouldn't fit on here. So the shot had to come from a person with small feet. That narrows it down to either a small man or a woman."

  "The native Malays or Chinese are quite tiny, even the men."

  They both looked at one another as new ideas raced around in their minds.

  "You said you had another thought," Steve urged.

  "Yes. Whoever it was who stood here and took aim had to be left-handed. If you were right-handed you'd definitely push yourself off. See…" Diana demonstrated what she meant as she positioned her body along the wall. She wobbled dangerously as the French windows into Miss Chalcot's study suddenly opened.

  "What in heaven's name are you doing out there? It looks highly dangerous."

  ~~~~~

  "I see. Well, you two certainly take things seriously. I don't remember the police taking such an interest when it happened." Miss Chalcot leant back from her desk and studied both Steve and Diana over the top of her reading glasses.

  "I spoke to Michel Browning last night actually."

  "Yes, I know. Did he tell you anything new?"

  "A few things, some of which I promised not to talk about, and if I wrote a book I certainly wouldn't include."

  Miss Chalcot removed her glasses, and as she twirled them around in her hand, Di wondered if she was left or right-handed.

  "Good for you. I like integrity, there's not enough of it around these days."

  "Mr Browning said I should ask you about yourself. He also mentioned Alex, and how you can tell me more about him."

  Miss Chalcot looked grim and pursed her lips as she gazed at Diana. "Did he? Well some other time. I'm rather busy now; I have a lot to do."

  Diana stood up. "You look a lot better than you did a few days ago, if I may say so. How's the new diet going?"

  "Not too bad, I have to remind the cook not to mix certain items when she's cooking for me. Apparently using a microwave is not recommended either, something about jiggling all the molecules around."

  "Yes, I've read something about that. I'll look it up on the Internet for you if you like."

  "Thank you. I really don't have the patience myself." She gave a deep sigh. "If only I'd followed Hermione's advice when I first became ill. She badgered me like mad to visit the doctor, but of course, I knew better and kept putting it off. She's never let me forget it."

  There was a pause as Diana sifted through Miss Chalcot's words. She had known she was still alive; Miss Chalcot had mentioned it earlier in their stay. Di did some rapid mental arithmetic. She supposed Hermione could be in her eighties or even nineties, but that didn't mean she was infirm.

  "Do you mean the Hermione who was Eleanor's best friend according to her journals?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "Where does she live?"

  "Here."

  "Here? In Malaysia?"

  "Well yes, but I really meant she lives at Kebun Pertama. She has rooms within the house."

  "I see."

  "She stayed here to be with Mother, they couldn't bear to be parted. They had a special sort of friendship, as I'm sure you've gathered from reading the journals. When Mother passed away, I didn't want Hermione to leave either. What would she have gone back to England for? An old lady living in a cottage on her own in a cold country, she'd have missed the glorious weather
here, and I don't believe she has any relatives left over there."

  "Is it possible to speak with her? She may be able to throw some new ideas our way, seeing she lived here during those turbulent times."

  "I'm not really sure. She is incredibly old now and gets rather crabby around strangers, but I'll see what I can do. She usually keeps herself to herself. Yes, she was here then, but I'm not sure she'll remember everything."

  "Thank you. Just let us know when it'll be convenient. Now, we'll let you get back to your work. Come on Steve, let's go and order some tea, I'm parched."

  Once outside Miss Chalcot's study and safely sitting in the hotel lounge, Di turned to Steve with a flabbergasted look.

  "I am speechless!"

  Steve smiled ruefully. "I thought you might be."

  "Well really, fancy not telling us she was living here. She might well be a recluse, but I bet she's all there with her marbles if she told Miss Chalcot she should see a doctor. She was a nurse you remember."

  "Yes."

  "She is strange don't you think? Miss Chalcot I mean. She wants this all sorted out, and yet I still get the impression she is holding out on us. What is her problem? Wait a minute—" She suddenly sat very still.

  "What?"

  "Miss Chalcot, I've thought about this before but never mentioned it…do we actually know which Miss Chalcot she is? I mean is she Felicity or Emma? She's what, in her late fifties or so? Emma was four years older than Alex and Felicity seven years I think."

  "Do you remember the description of them? I believe it was mentioned fairly early on. If I remember correctly, Felicity was a real blonde beauty, taking after her mother. I've no idea if she was tall or short, fat or thin, as I don't think it said so. Emma had brown hair and eyes. She was of medium height, whatever that is." Steve frowned trying to recall anything else they had missed.