Diamonds of Death

by Vivian Conroy

  She came over, pulled the stopper off the bottle and counted the drops audibly as they fell into the water. ‘See. There you go.’

  ‘You always take those drops yourself,’ Alkmene said softly, ‘except for the night when your father-in-law died. Then you were wide awake.’

  ‘There was a lot to think about.’

  Lady Winters replaced the stopper on the bottle and slipped the bottle into the pocket of her dressing gown. Then she handed the glass to Alkmene. ‘There. Drink it all, and you will sleep perfectly.’

  ‘I am sure.’ Alkmene put the glass on the nightstand. ‘But I want to talk first, Elena.’ She left the H off, pronouncing it in the original Portuguese way, adding, almost as an afterthought, ‘Pereiro.’

  The woman stared at her, blinking slowly. ‘I do not know what you mean. My name is Helena Winters. Or Perkins, if you count my maiden name.’

  ‘No.’ Alkmene shook her head. ‘You are a Pereiro, from the family who feuded for generations about those diamonds found in Africa. On your land, I presume? I did hear that you came from a rich family who owned mines in Africa. You felt like the diamonds belonged to you, but your family could never hold on to them. There was this constant struggle with a rival family who claimed a right to them. Matisse. The last of them, a hermit with no children, auctioned off the stones to someone unrelated. You wanted them.’

  Helena said nothing.

  Alkmene pressed on, ‘When you heard about the stones, their history of murder and bloodshed, probably from your mother, complaining about her life of hardship while she could have been rich, you thought you should own them. You left home not to take up a lowly position as some rich family’s governess, but to seek out your family fortune. You were willing to travel a long way for it and wait patiently for a chance to lay your hands on it. You believed it should have been yours all along, and that belief drove you in everything you did.’

  Still no response in that motionless face with the huge dark eyes.

  Alkmene said, ‘You tracked the man who had bought them from the last surviving member of the Matisse family. Lord Winters, the man who had married my aunt. You tracked him all the way to India. You came there as governess to a family with two young children. You now moved in the same circles as he did. You found an easy way into his household. A pretty young woman, able to play the piano and sing. A guest most welcome at parties for the English families living there.’

  ‘Not always welcome,’ Helena said. ‘They never failed to make me feel I was a foreigner. Not one of them. Inferior.’

  Alkmene nodded. ‘But that did not matter. Not deep inside. You were determined to take back the diamonds that to your mind belonged to you. For those stones you would have endured whatever rejection and ridicule for your bad English that you had to. You learned quickly, how to speak the language better, how to get interest from men. You befriended my aunt, making her feel sorry for you. You played father and sons against each other, enticing them all, giving none a clue as to where your real feelings lay. You made sure you knew the house, the layout, the ways of the household. The nights when Lord Winters and his sons were absent, because they had engagements elsewhere. A banquet, a polo game?’

  Helena’s eyes flickered a moment.

  Alkmene pushed on. ‘That night when my aunt was killed, you were certain there was no danger of being discovered as you entered the house looking for the stones. You knew where they were being kept; you knew how to find your way around. The men were absent. Lady Winters would be in bed sleeping. She was not healthy and always retired early. Her daughter was still a child and ill at that. You had the house all to yourself, you believed. Then you found the safe empty. The stones had been moved, to the summer residence, out of your reach. You felt so betrayed. You had been sure they would be there, waiting for you, and you could have them. You had done so much for them, endured so much for them. And now at last, when the reward should have been yours, you came out empty-handed.’

  Anger filled Helena’s handsome face, turning it into the hideous distortion Alkmene had seen in her mirror. This was what she really looked like, the other everyday face just a mask she put on to deceive those around her. To attract them to her and then destroy them by her passion and her greed.

  Alkmene kept talking, ‘But the empty safe, the removal of the stones before you had been able to get at them, was not the only bit of bad luck that you encountered that night. Lady Winters had not retired to her bed early at all. She was not asleep, perhaps because Anne was ill and she wanted to check every now and then how her daughter was feeling, if she was all right.’

  ‘No, it was not her daughter,’ Helena said low and scathingly. ‘It was one of those filthy beasts she was up for, caring for some injury. She risked her health waking day and night over those creatures.’

  Alkmene said, ‘She caught you standing in front of the safe. She saw the look on your face when you turned to her as she came in. You could not explain for your presence there. Maybe she would not have turned you over to the police. After all, you had not stolen anything. It would be a suspicion that you had come in to steal something. There would be no hard proof for it. Maybe she offered you that you could leave if you never came back?’

  Helena didn’t say anything, but the flickering in her eyes betrayed her. The woman she had loathed had been gracious to her, offering her a chance to go free. But Helena had not wanted mercy. She had wanted what she had come for. Whatever the cost.

  Alkmene said, ‘Not coming back was not an option for you. You wanted the stones. They belonged to you. You had told yourself that so many times it had become an absolute truth. A belief you were willing to kill for. You pretended you agreed with my aunt’s assessment of the situation. You would go away and never return. You smiled at her like a demure good girl. You walked past her as if you were leaving, ashamed of what you had attempted to do. Then the second you were behind her, you grabbed the scarf around her neck and pulled at it. You could strangle her easily enough. You were strong and determined, desperate even to keep your desires a secret. And she was a woman of weak health. Shorter than you probably.’

  ‘She always taunted me about not loving her dear animals.’ Helena’s voice was low and cold. ‘She always told me I was not a human for I had no heart for the weak and the little. She was so right. I have no heart. I didn’t feel a moment’s doubt when I saw her in the room, looking straight at me. I didn’t believe her when she said she would not turn me in if I just left. I could not leave either. I needed the stones. Like you said, they belong to me. So I grabbed her from behind and I strangled her without one bit of remorse. It was a pleasure to see her dead on the floor.’

  ‘You killed my mother.’ With a crash the screen fell to the floor, and Anne jumped at her sister-in-law. ‘You ugly serpent. I always knew you were the one.’

  Helena lifted her hands and had Anne, scratched her in the face. The girl yelped, and Alkmene rose from the bed to separate the fighting women.

  The door flew open, and Jake ran in, followed by Lord Winters and the butler.

  Helena cried, ‘They are all attacking me. They want to kill me. They are insane, like she was. Help me, please.’

  Alkmene said coldly, ‘She came in here to give me a sedative.’

  ‘It is harmless,’ Helena shrieked. ‘I poured the drops in the water in her presence. I counted them. It is not a lethal dose.’

  ‘No,’ Alkmene said. ‘But how many drops were already in the water when you carried the glass in here? You wanted me to sleep, all right, for a very long time, didn’t you? If I did not wake up in the morning, you’d claim I had made a mistake myself putting too many drops in the water. Or maybe you would even claim I had wanted to end my life after I learned my aunt had become mad before she died. You still had the letters to use, the ones you had planted for me earlier to concoct your evil scheme against poor George. You had only forgotten one thing. Those letters also mentioned the family feud about the stones. And by that lead I cam
e upon the names of those families. I learned later, via Anne, that you were one of them.’

  ‘I am most certainly not.’ Helena was calm again, in control. Standing tall and looking regal, she said, ‘I do not know what this woman is talking about. She is clearly insane. I want her removed from my house this instant. We should never have taken her in.’

  Alkmene stood and looked at Lord Winters. ‘I am certain that your wife here is a murderer. She strangled your mother and she also killed your father. I can prove it to you, if you will let me.’

  Helena looked at her husband. ‘You will not give her permission to do anything. This is our house. I am your wife. You will send her off this instant. We can send her bags after her later.’

  Anne said, ‘No. She said that she strangled Mama. Albert, I heard her say it. She said it was a pleasure to see Mama dead on the floor in front of her feet.’

  ‘Your sister has always been insane.’ Helena never stopped looking at her husband. ‘You yourself have said we needed help for her. She fell in love with a gardener. She might have become pregnant to him, and what would we have done then? The family name would have been ruined.’

  ‘He is an architect,’ Anne protested. ‘And if I had gotten pregnant, we would have married. He wanted to marry me, as soon as he had money to provide for me.’

  Helena laughed. ‘Do you hear her talk? How unreasonable that is? That man was just after money. He would never have married her. She is just a child. The eleven-year-old girl who lost her mother. The grief kept her captive in that state and time. Sad but true. We must protect her against herself. In a safe environment she can be cared for. No men will take advantage of her.’

  ‘You were there that night,’ Anne cried. ‘You came to strangle my mother. You left the house. I saw a flash of your gown. Golden.’

  ‘You did have a golden gown,’ Albert said. His voice crackled with tension. He looked at his wife as if he was not sure what to think next. ‘And a friend of mine mentioned to me after we were back from the banquet that he had seen you dance in it that night. I was angry you had worn it to a party where I would not be there to dance with you. I was so angry you had been with other men.’ His hands by his sides tensed into fists.

  Helena said, ‘Lots of women had golden dresses in those days. Now can we please all retire? My head is splitting. Lady Alkmene can drink her sleeping drops.’

  ‘I will take that liquid,’ Jake said, ‘for analysis. We will see how much sedative is in it.’ He walked over to the nightstand.

  Helena said in a thin voice, ‘Say something, Albert. Make them stop.’

  Albert cleared his throat. ‘My brother is already in jail. I will not let you incriminate my wife as well.’

  Alkmene looked at him. ‘If she is the killer, your brother will go free. Does that not mean anything to you?’

  Jake turned from the stand, the glass in his hand. ‘I imagine Lord Winters loves his wife more than his brother and is desperate to protect her even at the cost of his brother’s life. Or should I put it differently? He loves his position so much that he would rather let his brother die than run the risk of him ever inheriting all of this. For you do know that without an heir in the future, this will all belong to George. Is that not why you married in the first place? To ensure the birth of a son to inherit this after you so the brother you loathed would never have it?’

  Albert turned scarlet. ‘You should have borne me an heir,’ he cried at his wife. ‘To secure all of this. I cannot have a pathetic drunk be master here. I cannot tolerate it.’

  Helena did not stir. Jake began to move away from the nightstand, the glass in his hand.

  As he passed Helena, she bumped into him and the glass almost slipped from his hand. Some of the liquid spilled, but not all. Jake looked at her. ‘Clever, but not clever enough. On the contrary. This move only confirms your guilt. The contents of this glass are deadly.’

  Helena held his gaze. Her face was pale, but her gaze was calm and direct. ‘Do you think a jury will ever convict me for having poured a little too much sleeping draught in a glass of water? My father-in-law was buried today. I am distraught. You have no proof of anything else.’

  Albert wet his lips. ‘She is right. How can I tell if any of this fantastic tale you tell me is the truth? My mother’s murder was never solved. My father’s death is a mystery as well. I can very well believe George killed him. You heard that the police know he hired the burglar to steal the stones. That must mean he also hoped the burglar would be accused of the murder he had himself committed. George hated Father.’

  ‘Because your father killed his mother? You knew full well he had not. You were with him all that night.’ Jake spoke low. ‘You are the only person in the world who is perfectly sure your father cannot have killed your mother. But you have never said that to George. On purpose. You hoped he would persevere in his belief that his father had killed his mother, that his anger about it would slowly eat him, and he would eventually kill him. Then you would be Lord Winters without having to wait for your father’s death in the future, without having to dirty your own hands for it. You simply used George. You all used him to your own ends.’

  Albert shifted his weight. ‘George was always a hothead. And my father was a lecher. He wanted my wife before I married her and even after that he never ceased to look at her like he was… I could not bear the thought he would ever lay hands on her. He had to die. The sooner the better. Whether George killed him or another was all the same to me.’

  ‘He did die,’ Jake said quietly. ‘But not because you killed him or George, or Anne. Your wife killed him, and not for any reason either that we might understand. It was not revenge for a beloved mother’s violent death, or a need to protect a wife’s honour. No. She killed him for pure gain. For the stones that are now at last hers. The ten Cygnus stones.’

  Helena laughed. ‘If you know so surely, then please show them to me. Show me where the stones are. You know full well they are not in the house any more. They vanished on the night of the murder. You have no idea where they are. I watched the digging from the window.’

  She smiled at Alkmene, a cold ugly smile. ‘I watched you and your chauffeur going through that flower bed. And I knew it was pointless. I knew you’d never find them there.’

  Jake said, ‘I think Alkmene deserves the credit for working it out.’

  Alkmene said, ‘No, really it was Anne, who handed me the vital clue.’

  Anne blinked nervously. ‘Me?’

  Alkmene nodded at her. ‘Go into Lady Winters’ room and bring me the tiger figurine from her dressing table.’

  At the mention of the figurine Helena’s expression did not change. She had to be in perfect control of her emotions not to betray how she teetered on the brink of disaster. Even if the stones were not in the figurine, the birth certificate was, proving her heritage. Her motive for the murders.

  Confused by Alkmene’s request, Anne hesitated a moment, but at an encouraging nod from Alkmene, she ran from the room.

  In the deep silence Albert said, ‘What is all of this? I do not understand.’

  He glanced at his wife as if he was not sure of her innocence any more.

  Helena’s face was still calm. Only her eyes were alive with a dangerous fire. She was cornered, yes, but not yet defeated.

  Anne came back in a rush, carrying the garish figurine in both hands. She showed it to all present, then turned it over and removed a black pliable thing from the bottom. She inserted her finger and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

  Alkmene held her breath that it would be the incriminating birth certificate.

  But nobody was paying attention to a bit of paper, for something far different rained into the palm of Anne’s hand, like a waterfall of sparkles.

  The girl stared, her eyes huge, at the stones in her palm, the facets twinkling under the light. ‘Father’s diamonds. They are really here.’

  ‘No,’ Helena said. ‘They are not your father’s diamonds.
Or yours, now that he is dead. Your family should never have had them. You do not deserve them. They are not yours. They are not paid for by your family’s blood.’

  ‘Oh, but they are.’ Alkmene looked at her. ‘You killed my aunt for the stones, to make sure she could not accuse you and force your departure. You had to stay close to the Winters family to secure the stones at some later opportunity. You even married for them. You would have done anything for those gems. You have always been after the Cygnus stones, from the first day you came to India. As a governess, yes, but with a clear purpose in mind. Meet up with the family who now owned the stones and get at them, any way you could. You were willing to seduce Lord Winters for them, if you had to, or any or both his sons. You were willing to kill his wife for them, although the safe was empty that night. But you could not let her tell what she had seen; you could not let the game end there. You had to push on, ’til you had the stones at last. They would be brought back some time from their hiding place where Lord Winters had put them. They would be within your reach again.’

  Helena’s eyes flickered again with that strange light.

  Alkmene said, ‘You married Albert to stay near the stones and wait for your chance. You saved money so you could run away after you had stolen the stones. But you did not intend to steal them in such a fashion that the law would come after you. You didn’t intend to spend your life on the run. No, you would take them in such a way that another was blamed for it. You would hold on to them, without anybody knowing you had them. You had already made a deal with Albert that after you had borne him an heir, he would set you free again. Then you would go, carrying the stones with you and he’d never know.’

  Alkmene held her gaze. ‘How sweet your revenge must have tasted. After you had killed your father-in-law, you did not just own the stones that you had removed from his safe and stashed in your tiger figurine, a hideous thing that nobody wanted to touch. But you also owned the title of Lady Winters, the one you had coveted back in India when you could not get along with my aunt. You had never liked her, and to your twisted mind it was perfect justice that her title would now be yours. That you would have everything that had once been hers. You had planned it all to perfection. George had hired a burglar to steal the stones. You had convinced him he would then get back into his father’s graces.