LS 13 - Murder in a Different Place

by Lesley Cookman

  ‘Oh, it was. That’s why …’ Amelia stopped and shrugged. ‘Oh, well, that’s not what you came about, is it?’

  ‘No, you’re right,’ said Libby. ‘You were going to tell us about some of your old friends who were at the funeral.’

  ‘Was I?’ Amelia frowned. ‘Oh. I suppose … Let me see. The Dougans, they were there. We’ve known them since we were children. Lady Bligh, of course, and that strange son of hers. Oh – Amanda Clipping was there, with some man in tow.’ She paused. ‘There were a lot of people I didn’t know. I expect Alicia will remember more. She never left the Island.’

  ‘What about Honoria?’ asked Fran. ‘Would she remember?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. You’ll have to ask her.’ Amelia turned a sulky face away from them.

  ‘And the people you mentioned,’ Libby pressed on. ‘They were all here during your childhood?’

  ‘Amanda wasn’t, but her parents were. They live in Surrey now, I believe. She lives in the family home – when she’s here.’

  ‘Oh? Not a permanent resident then?’

  Amelia sniffed. ‘Too busy, apparently. She’s something to do with television, they say.’

  ‘Ah.’ Libby nodded wisely. ‘But the others, the Dougans, wasn’t it? And Lady Bligh? They were here?’

  ‘Look,’ said Amelia, turning back to face them. ‘I don’t know what you’re expecting to find, but you can rest assured none of these people had illegitimate babies or anything like that. We’d have known.’

  ‘We’re simply trying to find a reason for Celia’s murder,’ said Fran gently, ‘and if you want us to do that, we have to look at all the background.’

  ‘We’ll go and find Honoria, shall we?’ asked Libby, standing up. ‘Just point us the way to the garden.’

  Amelia stood up and pulled back a heavy velvet curtain, revealing a French door. ‘Go round the side of the house. That’s where the kitchen garden is.’ She pulled the door closed behind them and drew the curtain across.

  ‘As if she’s blotting us out,’ said Libby, staring at the closed door. ‘What is up with her?’

  ‘Partly, reduced circumstances, I should think,’ said Fran. ‘She’s also a bit of a snob and thinks herself a cut above her sisters. We must find out what Celia did with her life, too, don’t forget. If she was murdered, it might have nothing to do with Matthew.’

  Libby led the way round the house to where they found Honoria digging in a raised bed amid a forest of bean sticks.

  ‘So this is where you can see down into Candle Cove,’ said Fran, peering down through a screen of scrubby trees.

  Honoria straightened up, a hand in the small of her back. ‘Where we sat during the storm.’ She nodded at the house, where two tall windows stood open. ‘Help you?’

  ‘If you don’t mind,’ said Libby. ‘We’ve just been talking to Amelia.’

  ‘We wondered if any of the people at Matthew’s funeral could have known about – well – Harry’s family,’ added Fran.

  Honoria grunted. ‘Shouldn’t think so. Not many of ʼem around.’

  ‘Around years ago, do you mean?’ said Libby.

  ‘Dead, most of ʼem,’ said Honoria. ‘Old Lady Bligh and the Dougans about the only people.’

  ‘So most of the people at the funeral wouldn’t have known anything about a scandal back – well, whenever it was?’

  Honoria shook her head. ‘Ask Alicia.’

  ‘We shall,’ said Fran. ‘You’d know everyone, though? You’ve lived here all your life?’

  Honoria shrugged. ‘Most of it.’ She returned to her digging.

  ‘You lived on the mainland?’ persisted Libby, making a face at Fran. ‘So you could have missed something that happened during that period?’

  ‘Would have been told,’ said Honoria, without looking up.

  Libby opened her mouth and shut it again at a look from Fran.

  ‘Thank you, we’ll let you carry on gardening,’ said Fran. ‘Perhaps we’ll see Alicia another time.’ She turned and shooed Libby in front of her.

  ‘I wanted to know –’ began Libby.

  ‘I know – when she was away. But it was beginning to sound like an interrogation, and she obviously wasn’t as proud of her time off the Island as Amelia.’

  ‘So what’s she hiding?’ said Libby as they came out in front of the house and The Shelf.

  ‘Probably nothing,’ sighed Fran.

  ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘Wait for Alicia?’

  ‘We don’t know how long that’ll be.’

  ‘Oh, not long,’ said Fran with a grin. ‘I can hear a car.’

  Alicia appeared from the direction of the car park at the top of the cliff laden with shopping bags. Libby and Fran hurried forward to relieve her of some of them.

  ‘Thank you, dears.’ Alicia pushed a wisp of hair off her forehead. ‘Were you waiting for me?’

  ‘We’ve seen Amelia and Honoria,’ said Libby as they followed her into the house, ‘so we were actually just leaving.’

  ‘Well, now I’m here you can have a cup of coffee and tell me what you talked to them about.’ Alicia led the way into the large kitchen and filled a kettle before beginning to unpack her bags.

  ‘We were asking if either of them thought any of the funeral guests would know of anything in the past,’ began Libby, as Fran took tins out of a canvas bag.

  ‘Do you mean connected to Harry?’

  ‘Well – to his – um – relatives.’

  Alicia took instant coffee out of a cupboard. ‘Let me see … when would it have been?’

  ‘We don’t really know,’ said Fran. ‘Going by Matthew’s age, which was – what? Mid-eighties?’

  ‘Eighty-one,’ said Alicia. ‘We’re all in our eighties. Except poor Celia, of course. She was the baby, only seventy-eight.’

  ‘So if someone had a baby, they were either your sort of age now, or at least in their sixties, given how old Harry is.’ Fran was emptying another bag.

  ‘Thank you, dear.’ Alicia poured water into a tall coffee pot. ‘Just leave them on the table and I’ll put them away later. Now, let’s think.’ She pulled out a chair and sat at the table, resting her chin on her hands. ‘Who did the girls say might remember?’

  ‘Only a couple of people,’ said Libby, sitting on the other side of the table. ‘The Dougans and Lady Bligh.’

  ‘Yes, they’re all our generation. Most of the others are younger, so it could have been anyone. I didn’t know everybody there, you know.’

  ‘People who’ve left the Island?’ asked Fran tentatively. ‘Amelia said she lived away for some time, and so did Honoria.’

  ‘Did she?’ Alicia looked surprised. ‘She doesn’t usually talk about it.’

  ‘She didn’t actually talk about it, just said she had,’ said Libby. ‘Was it at the same time Amelia was away?’

  ‘Amelia was away for a long time.’ Alicia went to fetch milk from the fridge. ‘She came back between her husband’s postings.’

  Libby and Fran exchanged glances. This was difficult.

  ‘So what about other people who left the Island?’ asked Fran.

  ‘Well, we wouldn’t know any of them any more, unless they came back to visit. The only people who do that are the Clippings.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Libby. ‘Amelia mentioned Amanda Clipping. Her parents live in Surrey?’

  ‘Yes.’ Alicia sighed. ‘They moved when John got his promotion. We all thought they’d come back when he retired as they kept the house here, but they stayed there. I suppose they’d made friends.’

  ‘So Amanda uses the house. Does anyone else?’ asked Fran. Both Alicia and Libby looked surprised at this question.

  ‘I don’t think so. Amanda comes for the odd weekend and at other times. She sometimes brings guests.’ Alicia began to pour coffee.

  ‘Amelia said she had a guest with her at the funeral,’ said Libby.

  Alicia laughed. ‘I don’t suppose she put it like that. Yes, she had a youn
g man with her, although they were both with another man in a wheelchair. I didn’t know him.’

  ‘So she had two men in tow,’ said Fran with a smile.

  Alicia twinkled. ‘That’s how she put it, isn’t it? Amelia can be a terrible prude, but it’s mainly because she hates getting old, and was considered a beauty in her day, and very daring. We were all surprised when she married her rather dull Roy.’

  ‘Security?’ suggested Libby.

  ‘I suppose so. So tell me what Honoria said.’

  ‘She just confirmed that the only people at the funeral who would have known you all when you were young were the Dougans and Lady Bligh.’ said Fran.

  ‘And that she’d moved away?’

  ‘We asked,’ said Libby. ‘She just said she had and that was that. We didn’t like to ask any more.’

  ‘But you’re dying to know.’ Alicia smiled at them both. ‘Actually, we were all off the Island at more or less the same time, although I was only away very briefly.’

  ‘When was that?’ asked Libby.

  ‘In the fifties. Is it important?’

  ‘If you were all away together, that would be why you don’t know what happened,’ said Fran.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Celia wasn’t away then,’ said Alicia slowly, breaking a long silence.

  ‘When was it?’ asked Libby, practically on the edge of her chair.

  ‘In the fifties,’ said Alicia with a sigh. ‘I married and went to the mainland, but I was back by fifty-five.’

  ‘And Honoria?’ Fran asked quietly.

  ‘She was away until – until about fifty-eight.’ Alicia was looking out of the window.

  Libby looked at Fran and grimaced.

  ‘If you want to talk to the Dougans or Lady Bligh,’ said Alicia briskly, turning back to face them, ‘I’ll give you an introduction, if you think it’ll help Harry.’

  Libby’s eyebrows shot up.

  ‘I don’t think we could just turn up and ask questions,’ said Fran. ‘We haven’t got the right.’

  ‘We’re actually trying to find out about Celia, anyway,’ said Libby. ‘You said she was here during the fifties.’

  ‘Yes.’ Alicia seemed to crumple. ‘I don’t seem to be able to keep up with all this. I’ve got rather muddled. How did we get to Harry and the nineteen-fifties from my poor sister?’

  ‘I’m beginning to wonder myself,’ muttered Libby.

  Alicia sat looking at her for a moment.

  ‘So what you’re saying is that someone we knew became pregnant while at least Honoria, Amelia, and I were away, and Matthew knew about it? But he’d already gone, too. University first and then he went to London.’

  ‘Didn’t he ever come back?’ asked Libby.

  ‘Yes, for weekends and sometimes longer. More than we did. And I suppose Celia was here some of that time.’

  ‘What did Celia do? We haven’t heard much about her,’ said Fran.

  ‘She wasn’t twenty-one until – when was it? – nineteen fifty-six. So she was here most of that time. She used to go and stay with Matthew sometimes – not until she was eighteen, though.’

  ‘Nineteen fifty-three,’ said Fran. ‘So did she go over for the coronation?’

  Alicia smiled. ‘Do you know, I believe she did!’

  ‘Were you on the mainland then?’ asked Libby.

  ‘I was in … France.’ Alicia’s eyes went to the window again.

  ‘Oh?’ Libby caught Fran’s eye and said nothing else.

  ‘Well, unless we can talk to someone who might have known what Matthew and Celia knew, I’m afraid we won’t get any further,’ said Fran. ‘Unless you know anything about the letter?’

  Alicia’s eyes shot back to meet Fran’s. ‘Letter?’

  ‘Yes. The letter you received and sent to Harry before the funeral.’

  ‘I – we –’

  ‘Didn’t it occur to you that you might be putting Harry in danger by allowing him to come here?’ said Libby.

  ‘And us?’ put in Fran.

  Alicia’s mouth was hanging open.

  ‘So if you’d like us to stop now, we’d be quite happy to,’ said Libby untruthfully.

  ‘After all,’ continued Fran, ‘you’ve hardly been straight with us, have you? And none of you have told us the exact truth. You’ve all been keeping back what happened to you in the fifties. How did you think we could find out what had happened to Celia if you didn’t tell us the truth?’

  Alicia’s face was now chalk white, except for each cheek sporting a flaming spot of colour.

  ‘We’ll leave you to think it over,’ said Libby, standing up. ‘Thanks for the coffee.’

  ‘They’re watching us,’ she muttered, as she and Fran walked past The Shelf on their way to the path and the wooden steps.

  ‘I know. Honoria’s peering round the side and Amelia’s curtain was twitching. I wonder what they’ll do next?’

  ‘Council of war, I should hope,’ said Libby, grabbing the rickety handrail. ‘And deciding to tell us the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.’

  ‘I suppose it’s their generation,’ said Fran. ‘It wasn’t done to show emotions, or wash your dirty linen in public, pregnant girls were hidden away and their babies removed from them –’

  ‘And if that’s what happened to Harry’s granny, somewhere along the line, that baby found out who he was. Or who his mother was,’ said Libby.

  ‘And somehow, granny found out about Harry, so she must have known where her baby went in order to keep an eye on Harry.’

  ‘But we know Harry was in care for most of his childhood. All of it, as far as he can remember.’ Libby stepped with relief on to the beach and made for Ship House. ‘So do we have a council of war now, too?’

  ‘I think we should.’ Fran climbed the steps to the deck. ‘Shall we have another cup of coffee? I didn’t drink mine at Alicia’s.’

  ‘It wasn’t very nice,’ said Libby. ‘Shall I make us a nice cup of tea?’

  ‘Good idea. And we ought to see where the men are.’

  The men, it turned out, were nowhere to be seen, so Fran and Libby took their tea out on to the deck and picked the most comfortable loungers.

  ‘I can’t believe how lovely this place is,’ said Libby. ‘I want to go and look at some of the other bays.’

  ‘I bet that’s what the men have done,’ said Fran. ‘Guy looked as though he’d been sitting still for too long.’

  ‘He sits still most of the time, doesn’t he? Either painting or in the shop?’

  ‘He goes for long rambles on his own in the evenings,’ said Fran. ‘Didn’t you know?’

  ‘No.’ Libby was surprised. ‘And I knew him before you did.’

  Fran grinned. ‘I know. And thank you again for introducing us.’

  Libby laughed. ‘I suppose I did, didn’t I? And I was so jealous of you and Ben.’

  ‘Just because we’d worked together before.’ Fran leant back and crossed her ankles. ‘Well, we sorted it all out, didn’t we? And now we’d better try and sort out these old ladies.’

  ‘And Harry. Do you really think he’s in danger?’

  ‘Someone wants him to think he is,’ said Fran. ‘Otherwise, why the note?’

  ‘But they may just be warning him off the Island.’

  ‘But he has no idea who this person is, or why they’re warning him. If he knew, at least he could take precautions. But I think he’s a threat simply by being here. Or being alive.’

  Libby gasped. ‘Oh, Fran, no!’

  ‘I don’t know for sure, but that’s logical, isn’t it? His presence is a threat to something or someone.’

  Libby shook her head. ‘I can’t see our Hal being a threat to anyone.’

  ‘It’s what he is, not who he is,’ said Fran. ‘If we go back to the granny, she had an illegitimate child who was sent away, then the child of that child appears also to have been sent away, we don’t know why.’

  ‘So, an inheritance, do you t
hink?’ said Libby. ‘Hal’s standing in the way of someone inheriting?’

  Fran frowned in concentration. ‘If the parent who gave away Harry went on to have other children, maybe.’

  ‘We don’t even know whether the parent was mother or father,’ said Libby.

  ‘Yes, but the law of primogeniture doesn’t hold good any more, unless you’re royal.’

  ‘So it doesn’t matter? In that case it wouldn’t matter if Harry was born first. The inheritance could be left wherever the – um – will-writer wanted.’

  ‘Unless there was a will already in existence that named Harry.’

  ‘Blimey!’ Libby’s eyes were round. ‘Do you think that’s it?’

  Fran shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but it’s one idea. Now we’ve just got to find out what was going on here in the early fifties.’

  ‘Supposing it isn’t, though,’ said Libby after a minute. ‘There’s still Lucifer.’

  Fran looked thoughtful. ‘And he could have been at the funeral without anyone knowing, if he’s still alive.’

  ‘That’s the trouble with funerals,’ said Libby. ‘You don’t have a useful guest list. Anyone can turn up.’

  ‘But not everyone gets invited back to the wake,’ said Fran.

  ‘When have you ever known a private wake? It’s usually just “and afterwards at so-and-so” isn’t it?’

  ‘And if it’s a public venue anyone could be there,’ agreed Fran. ‘Yes, it’s a thought. So we needn’t be looking for someone connected with the past of the Island after all.’

  ‘And that’s a problem,’ said Libby. ‘We have absolutely no way of knowing who or why. It’s a brick wall.’

  ‘What would make Harry a threat to Lucifer?’

  ‘Simply the fact that Harry was close to Matthew. Perhaps he thinks Harry must know who he is and he’s still worried about his cover being blown.’ Libby frowned. ‘And in this day and age, it could bring worries about more than just being gay.’

  Fran looked startled. ‘You mean …?’

  ‘Paedophilia. If that man was high-profile – well, you know what’s happened to people over the last couple of years.’

  ‘That would certainly be worth keeping quiet, but it’s mere speculation. Far more than the illegitimate child theory. We know that’s fact, at least.’