The Guilty Secret

by Margaret Pemberton

  He halted, the smile wiped from his face. I said frantically:-

  ‘You assumed I had and I let you because I wanted you to talk. I never knew what was in the letter till you told me tonight. I never knew I hadn’t killed them!’

  I expected him to hit me, instead the smile slowly returned. ‘ Then if you didn’t murder her, Crown did. If you’re a good girl I won’t tell the police …’

  Jonathan, of course, it was Jonathan. ‘ You promise?’ I asked hoarsely, ‘You promise not to tell them it was Jonathan …’

  ‘If you do what I want,’ he said pleasantly. ‘ Now take off your clothes. One by one and very slowly.’

  Jonathan. Jonathan had murdered Rozalinda. My brain whirled. Had it only been revenge for Nanette and Sarah? Or had it been for me as well? Whatever the reason I had to prevent Miles telling the police. No-one else knew what Rozalinda had done. No-one else could possibly suspect Jonathan. If I did what Miles asked … I knew, even as my skirt fell to the floor, that Miles was happy not to tell the police. That in Jonathan he had another victim with enough money to make blackmail worthwhile. But I had to keep him happy till the police enquiries were over. I couldn’t risk upsetting him. Couldn’t risk Jonathan’s arrest, whatever the cost.

  I stood in the lamplight, Miles eyes lingering over my legs, desperately trying to think of a way of stalling him.

  ‘You could come with me tomorrow when I leave …’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m not waiting for tomorrow. Now your sweater.’

  Hands damp with sweat I lifted my sweater over my head, letting it fall to the floor to join my skirt in a crumpled heap.

  ‘What about a drink first, Miles? Let’s have a brandy … a whisky …’

  He laughed. ‘You really are scared, aren’t you? What’s the matter, Jenny. Is this your first time?’

  ‘Yes …’

  The faint surge of hope soon died. His eyes gleamed. ‘All the more exciting. Now your bra.’

  Somewhere a door creaked. Or was it my imagination as he began to whisper the things he was going to do to me. The things he would make me do. The sound came again and this time I knew it had not been my imagination. Behind his chair, out of range of the lamplight, I sensed someone’s presence.

  I closed my eyes, unable to bear the sight of his eyes on my half naked body. Please God … let it be Phil. Let it be Aunt Harriet. Let it be anyone as long as this humiliation stops.

  ‘Now your panties …’

  There was no sound. No help coming. I remained motionless.

  ‘If you don’t, Jonathan will be arrested before morning.’ His voice was quite pleasant. As if he were saying what a nice day it was. How fortunate that the weather had changed.

  I began to cry silently, my fingers sliding slowly to my hips, then slower still as I struggled to keep my eyes on his face and not on the figure emerging from the shadows and approaching the back of Miles’ chair. Not until the strong arm had jack-knifed down, wrenching his head back, did I tear my eyes away and scream.

  With enormous effort Miles’ flailing arms caught the back of Jonathan’s head, heaving him bodily over the chair, breaking Jonathan’s grip, both of them crashing to the floor at my feet. Miles’ fist landed punch after punch on Jonathan’s jaw whilst Jonathan kicked upwards with his legs sending Miles sprawling, leaping down on top of him, his hands closing around his throat.

  ‘No! Jonathan! No!’

  But Jonathan’s eyes were glazed as he panted and struggled to squeeze the life from Miles.

  ‘Bastard!’ he gasped, his muscles straining. ‘You foul mouthed, filthy bastard!’

  I grabbed my sweater, struggling into it as I ran out of the villa across to Phil’s, hammering hysterically on the door.

  ‘What the …Jennifer!’ Then he heard the grunting struggle and began running barefoot, shouting for help at the top of his voice.

  Miles was half senseless as Phil strained to pull Jonathan off him and Aunt Harriet, Tom and Mary rushed half dressed into the room.

  I was only half aware of Mary as she silently handed me my skirt and as Tom and Aunt Harriet poured water over Miles. I threw myself at Jonathan, holding his bleeding face between my hands, saying urgently:-

  ‘Don’t tell them! Dear God, don’t tell them!’

  His arm came down around my body, hugging me towards him.

  ‘It’s all right, Jenny Wren. It’s all right.’

  I was still crying. ‘It isn’t. Oh Jonathan, they’ll take you away …’

  ‘No they won’t my love. Nothing will ever take me away from you again.’

  Miles was struggling for breath, Tom and Phil hesitantly at either side of him. Ready to seize him if he moved and not knowing why.

  Aunt Harriet, satisfied that Miles would live, sat down heavily and with remarkable presence of mind said simply:- ‘ What happened?’

  ‘Nothing …’ I said frantically. ‘Miles was making a pass at me and …’

  ‘Some pass,’ Phil said between clenched teeth, looking at the bra lying on the rug.

  ‘He was blackmailing her,’ Jonathan cut in. ‘He forced her to undress and then …’ he looked down at me, his eyes dark. ‘And then I came in.’

  ‘Liar!’ Miles yelled. ‘He was trying to kill me!’

  ‘Why?’ Aunt Harriet’s voice was like ice.

  ‘Because he murdered Rozalinda!’

  Everyone’s eyes swivelled back to Jonathan and my heart died within me. He said quietly. ‘ Miles was sending the anonymous letters to Rozalinda. Blackmailing letters.’

  ‘You’re lying Crown!’

  Phil jerked Miles’ arm painfully upwards. ‘I couldn’t care less what Crown has done, but you’ll pay for what you did to Jennifer! Either now or later!’

  Almost as a reflex action Tom had seized Miles’ other arm.

  He glared at both of them, his eyes wild. ‘You’re all against me! The police won’t be! They’ll listen to me! You’ll all pay for this!’

  ‘Shut your mouth,’ Tom said crudely.

  ‘No wonder you could assure Harold they’d stop. Getting cold feet about your film part were you?’ Phil asked through clenched teeth.

  ‘Why?’ Aunt Harriet asked, her eyes never leaving Jonathan’s.

  He said simply. ‘It was Rozalinda who killed Nanette and Sarah. She’d left Phil’s party to meet someone. She’d been drinking and it was dark … Then she came back to the party and behaved as if nothing had happened. Minutes later Jenny left for home, swerved to avoid the bodies in the road, was badly concussed and believed, like everyone else, that she had done it. Miles was jealous that Rozalinda was beginning an affair with someone else. He had been following her. He knew she’d done it all along.’

  ‘Oh God,’ Tom’s face was indescribable.

  Phil said blankly. ‘So that’s why she left so early. She was miles away by the time the police began questioning Jenny. And so was her car.’

  ‘And then he came,’ Miles burst out. ‘ He found out and he murdered her!’

  We sat in a shocked little group. Miles triumphant. Phil still coming to grips with what had been said. Tom stricken. Aunt Harriet believing. Jonathan and myself knelt on the floor, my body cradled against his. I scarcely noticed Mary, standing by Tom’s side like a sleepwalker.

  Aunt Harriet gave a deep, shuddering sigh. ‘Poor, frightened child. Causing all this heartache and tragedy. I’m glad, for your sake Jenny, that we know the truth. And I’m sure, under the circumstances, that the courts will show compassion to Jonathan.’

  ‘There’s just one thing more,’ Jonathan said, his arm tightening round me.

  Even Miles listened.

  ‘I didn’t kill Rozalinda. I knew nothing at all until I came here tonight to make sure Jenny was safe.’

  The room swam and then Mary stepped forward into the light.

  ‘I wouldn’t have let them arrest you, Jonathan.’

  ‘Sit down, Mary,’ Tom said gently. ‘There’s nothing you can do to help.�
�

  ‘There is,’ she looked at him with an expression of surprise. ‘You see, I killed her.’

  Chapter Twenty

  There was complete silence. Mary’s face and voice showed no expression. She stood in front of Aunt Harriet, a short, dumpy figure with a woollen dressing gown hastily tied around her waist and said:- ‘She made Tom love her.’

  ‘No!’ Tom said. ‘No!’ and leapt to his feet towards her. She shook her head. Refusing to be drawn into his arms.

  ‘I knew there was something wrong. We weren’t happy like we used to be. Not after the party. He …’ for the first time emotion entered her voice, choking it. ‘He didn’t make love to me like he used to. Then we came here and it got worse. It was as if I didn’t exist.’

  Tom gave a deep groan and buried his face in his hands, sinking back in his chair.

  ‘Harold had gone to Oporto and Tom had said he was going out for a ride before dinner. I came in the villa to talk to Rozalinda and I heard them …’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Tom’s face was ashen. ‘ It didn’t mean anything Mary. It …’

  The flat voice went remorselessly on. ‘I went back to our villa and waited for him. He didn’t even speak to me. He was whistling and when I went in the bathroom after him I saw myself in the mirror and it was then that I hated her. I’ve never been pretty. I couldn’t believe it when Tom said he loved me. Now I’ve had the children and my body …’ unknowingly she passed a hand across her stomach, ‘ my body isn’t even firm anymore. Rozalinda had everything. Money. A husband who worshipped her. Fame. Beauty.

  Why did she want my Tom as well? She could have had any man she wanted. All I wanted was Tom.’

  She gazed slowly round at our horrified eyes, at her husband’s tear streaked face.

  ‘The maid was on her way home. I gave her a letter to leave at Rozalinda’s. I wrote that I knew what was in the other letters she had received. I didn’t, but I knew they frightened her. And I wanted to frighten her. Then I went over to the villa and took the gun from Harold’s desk. I wasn’t going to kill her.’ Her voice held a compelling naivety. ‘ She was in bed. I told her I knew she was having an affair with Tom and that he didn’t love me anymore. She laughed at me.’ Her voice thickened. ‘ She told me that I could have him back anytime I wanted and that I was being silly. She told me to put the gun down because it was loaded. And then she said,’ and the staring eyes were bright with tears. ‘She said she didn’t want him anyway … she said that he was a bore. That he was a lousy lover, only that wasn’t the word she used and then she looked at me and she stopped laughing and said “ For God’s sake put that thing down. You’re not well, Mary. It was nothing I tell you …” but I just kept looking at her. At how beautiful she was and how hideous inside. There was a mirror in the ceiling above the bed and I thought of her and Tom … and then she said that if I shot her no-one would ever know about Jenny … her hands were shaking and there was sweat on her forehead. I was just staring at her, that was all. She was speaking quickly. So quickly I could hardly hear. She said that if I killed her no-one would ever know Jenny was innocent. That someone had found out and she would have to tell. I didn’t know what she was talking about. I only knew that Tom would never look at me in the way he looked at her … She said that she had run down Nanette and Sarah and been so frightened that she hadn’t stopped and now someone had found out …’ Her glazed eyes focused with difficulty on Aunt Harriet. ‘Then I understood and I thought of Nanette and little Sarah and how she’d left them in the road not even knowing they were dead. And of Jenny and her injuries, and the trial and her face in all the papers and of how she has never been the same since. And Jonathan. And of how Jonathan wouldn’t marry Jenny any more and of how he had called her filthy and a bitch and murderess, and of how Jenny loved him. And of what she had done to my Tom. And I squeezed the trigger.’

  No-one moved or spoke. Outside the birds were beginning to sing in the woods, the first rays of early morning light seeping through the shutters.

  Tom, looking ten years older than he had when he entered the room walked slowly across to his wife and put his arm around her shoulders. Silently she laid her head against him, and without speaking he led her across the room and out into the pale light. The door swung shut behind them. We remained motionless, staring at the empty spot where Mary had stood. It was Miles who moved first. No-one attempted to stop him. There was a smirk on his face.

  ‘What chance now you telling the police about me?’ and as no-one answered he laughed with genuine amusement and slammed the door behind him.

  At last Aunt Harriet said wearily. ‘You’d better get dressed Jenny. You’ll catch a chill.’

  Jonathan helped me to my feet, holding me close to him, oblivious of Aunt Harriet and Phil.

  Safe in his arms, his heart thudding against mine, I had no wish to move. He said gently:- ‘It will be all right Jenny. Trust me.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I always will.’

  Drained of emotion I went slowly upstairs to dress.

  Mary a killer. It wasn’t possible. Yet she had done it. Not one of us had doubted her. What would happen to her? And to the children? The shock that had enveloped us all, making us temporarily numb, was beginning to fade by the, time I went back downstairs. My new feeling was one of steely determination. Whatever happened, Mary wasn’t going to be punished for Rozalinda’s death. She hadn’t meant to kill her. Rozalinda had provoked her beyond all bearing. If she hadn’t told her about Nanette and Sarah, Mary would never have shot her. I knew it. I had no need to convince anyone else. Aunt Harriet was saying:-

  ‘I think what Jonathan suggests is the best …’

  ‘What’s that?’

  They were sitting in the kitchen. The colour was beginning to return to Aunt Harriet’s cheeks, and Phil, like Jonathan, looked full of purpose.

  ‘That we don’t tell the police what happened. We let them get on with their enquiries and if they come to a verdict of suicide we leave it at that.’

  ‘Do you think they will?’

  ‘When they find only Rozalinda’s fingerprints on the gun, yes.’

  I stared at the three of them bewildered.

  ‘But Mary killed her … it will be Mary’s fingerprints on the gun …’

  Aunt Harriet sighed. ‘When I went in that room, Jenny. I didn’t know who had killed her. I thought at first it was Harold. I knew it was one of us and Rozalinda was already dead and I couldn’t bear the thought of more suffering …’

  Phil, with fond exasperation said:- ‘While we were bringing Harold downstairs, Aunt Harriet wiped the gun and pressed Rozalinda’s fingers round it, leaving it in her hand. That’s where the police found it.’

  ‘But it could have been anyone! It could have been Miles!’

  ‘I know dear, but I didn’t have time to think. Only time to act. Besides, I knew that Rozalinda had been out somewhere the night of Phil’s party. There were raindrops in her hair when she kissed me goodbye … and since then she’s been nervous and frightened. It would have been unnatural not to have wondered. I just couldn’t bring myself to believe Rozalinda could have been so …’ she faltered. ‘ So treacherous.’

  ‘No wonder she paid all the clinic fees,’ Phil said brutally. ‘And you thought it was because she loved you.’

  I remembered her vibrant beauty, the way she had clasped me in her arms when I had arrived at the enclave. Kissing me on the cheek. A Judas kiss, not a kiss of love. Then I remembered how frightened she had been. How sorry. I said:- ‘She did love me in her way.’

  ‘You have a more forgiving heart than I have.’

  ‘And I’m glad,’ Jonathan said, pulling me down on his knee. ‘Which is one reason I’m marrying Jenny and not you, Phil.’

  Phil smiled wryly. ‘I don’t think I’m the marrying kind. I’ll go over to the Farrar’s and tell them what we’re doing. We don’t want Mary going to Harold and confessing again.’

  ‘No,’ Aunt Harriet stood up briskly. ‘And it
’s nearly seven. The police will be back soon and we have to get that key put back on the inside of the room. Mary must still have it.’

  ‘How come Harold wasn’t here?’ I asked.

  ‘The sleeping tablets knocked him cold.’ Aunt Harriet said. ‘Though even if he knew I think he would go along with us. If there was a trial everything would come out. He wouldn’t want that.’

  ‘And as it is,’ Jonathan said to me. ‘ He’ll never know what she was really like. It’s better this way.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said fervently. ‘Much better.’

  Aunt Harriet was already scurrying down the garden path towards the Farrar’s villa. Phil paused at the door, his eyes meeting mine. They were rueful but certainly not heartbroken. ‘Congratulations.’ he said.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It was early autumn, and the sun slanted deep gold over the sea and the sand. The villas were boarded up, awaiting the arrival of their new occupants in the spring. No hint of the tragedy that had been enacted in them lingered. We stood on top of the dunes, gazing at the deserted beach and the giant breakers as they ploughed their way shorewards.

  Jonathan lifted my left hand to his lips, the gold ring shining brightly. I moved closer, warm in the circle of his arms.

  ‘Mary’s new baby will be born in the spring. We did the right thing, Jenny.’

  ‘And ours in the summer.’

  I raised my lips for his kiss. Then, my head on his chest, I said:- ‘We must be back for the fifteenth. Phil has his first London concert.’

  ‘And Aunt Harriet is hoping to win the flower show at the summer fete.’

  I smiled. ‘And our holiday will be over.’

  ‘Oliveira has asked us to bring the baby next year.’

  ‘We will. But we won’t leave Vigo and Spain to travel south. All the ghosts have been laid.’

  ‘I’m glad.’ He lifted my face to his. ‘I love you, Jenny Wren. God, how I love you.’

  And then he seized my hand and began to run down the dunes to the beach.

  ‘What is it? I thought we were going back?’ I protested laughing.