The Celtic Dagger

by Jill Paterson

  'I bet your pardon?'

  'His wife killed him, I tell you.'

  'How do you know that?'

  'Because I saw her go into his office that night after the dinner.'

  'What were you doing in the building at that time of night?'

  'Simon Rhodes shrugged. 'I'd passed a note to Alex during the dinner telling him I'd meet him in his office. Catherine got there before me. When I read about his death the next day... seemed obvious who killed him.'

  'What did you blackmail Alex Wearing with?'

  'Something that happened years ago when we were both undergraduates.'

  'Enlighten us, Mr Rhodes.'

  Rhodes hesitated before he said,' A young woman - a student - died one night in a car accident. Alex Wearing was driving. I'd seen them leave together. When he returned alone, and on foot, I questioned him. All but admitted it.'

  'So you decided to blackmail him.'

  Simon did not reply.

  Fitzjohn looked at his watch. 'We'll leave it at that for now and resume later, but before we finish, is there anything you'd like to clarify or add, Mr Rhodes?'

  Rhodes slumped back in his chair. 'No.'

  Fitzjohn walked with a determined gait as he and Betts left the interview room.

  'Bring Catherine Wearing in for questioning, Betts.'

  'Yes, sir.'

  ****

  Later that evening as James arrived home, he found Fitzjohn in his car at the curb. He got out as James approached. ‘I know it’s late, James, but I thought I’d wait for a while and see if I could catch you. I have news I know you’ll want to hear and not over the telephone, I suspect.’

  James pulled his keys from his pocket. ‘Come in, Chief Inspector.’ Fitzjohn followed James into the house.

  ‘There’ve been a number of developments since we last spoke and not all good, I’m afraid,' said Fitzjohn, as they walked into the living room.'

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. After our conversation yesterday, we took Simon Rhodes in for questioning. Following on from that, we spoke to Albert Gilmore and a gentleman from the Paris art gallery in question. They both confirm that the painting is, in fact, the one stolen from that gallery. Rhodes has since been arrested.’

  ‘Why, that’s marvellous news.’

  ‘It is, but there’s more. Not only has he admitted to blackmailing your brother over Rosemary Wentworth's death, he's also confessed to arranging your wife's.' Fitzjohn paused. 'I'm sorry, I know it's not what you wanted to hear.'

  James took a deep breath as he wiped his face with his hands.

  'Why would he confess?'

  ‘A number of reasons that I can see. To start with, he’s been caught with stolen property.’ Fitzjohn paused. ‘The man’s no fool. He's hoping he'll come out better off if he cooperates.' James nodded.

  ‘You said it’s not all good news.’

  Fitzjohn frowned. ‘No. It’s something that led on from Simon Rhodes' confessions. When did you last see Catherine Wearing?’

  ‘Last week. I ran into her outside the Australian Museum. Why? Has something happened to Catherine?’

  ‘Simon Rhodes has made a statement that Catherine Wearing murdered her husband.'

  The colour drained from James’s face. ‘Simon’s lying, of course.’

  ‘He may well be so all the more reason to speak to Catherine Wearing immediately,' said Fitzjohn.’

  ‘You haven’t spoken to her yet?’

  ‘We’ve tried, but she’s disappeared. She left a note for her housekeeper, Eve Lawrence, to say she’d be away for a few days. Apparently, she left late this afternoon. Did she mention anything to you?’

  ‘Not that I remember. She said she’d just arrived back from Melbourne. She said you’d been to see her that morning and told her about Cragleigh.’

  ‘Yes. I did go to see her.’

  ‘What about Eve? Did you tell her why you wanted to speak to Catherine?’

  ‘No. She doesn’t need to know at the moment. She’s gone to stay with her sister for a few days. She left a telephone number where she can be reached.’ Fitzjohn got up from his chair.

  ‘Look, I’ll leave you now and be in touch when I have further word on Mrs Wearing. If she does get in touch...’

  James looked up. ‘Yes, I’ll let you know.’

  Fitzjohn nodded. 'Oh, and by the way, when we took Rhodes in, Dr Harrow was there.’

  He’s renting a flat from Simon,’ said James.

  ‘So you’re aware of the situation.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Unfortunate, really. Dr Harrow didn’t look well at all but, nevertheless, I had to question him as to his presence.’ James did not reply.

  ‘We’ll speak later. I’ll see myself out.’

  CHAPTER 25

  James slumped down into an armchair after Fitzjohn left, his mind swamped with Simon Rhodes's accusation that Catherine had killed Alex. He had to be lying. Catherine’s very nature was one of caring for others and even though she and Alex had drifted apart over the years, one’s nature does not change. When the grandfather clock chimed, he looked at his watch. Ashley would be waiting for him at the pub, where they had arranged to meet for a drink. He left the house and climbed into the Range Rover. When he walked into the pub fifteen minutes later, he felt its warm, welcoming atmosphere and saw Ashley sat on a stool at the bar. Her smile disappeared as he walked toward her.

  ‘James, what’s the matter?’

  James kissed Ashley’s cheek before sitting on the stool next to her and signalling to the barman. ‘A whisky, please, and...’ He glanced over at Ashley’s glass, ‘A chardonnay for the lady.’ He turned back to Ashley. ‘It hasn’t been a good day. Fitzjohn came to see me earlier this evening. They’ve arrested Simon. He’s been caught in possession of stolen art work. Also, he’s admitted to blackmailing Alex.’

  ‘But that’s good news, wonderful news, in fact. Isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it is, but there’s more. He’s accused Catherine of killing Alex.’

  ‘What!’

  At that moment, the barman brought their drinks. James took a sip of his whisky. ‘You don’t believe him do you?’

  ‘To be quite honest, I don’t know what to believe. Fitzjohn says Catherine’s disappeared. They’re looking for her now.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I should contact my parents, but to tell them what? Catherine is now a suspect in Alex’s murder? Losing Alex has been difficult enough, I don’t know how they’d take this. Catherine’s like a daughter to them.’

  ‘But can you take the chance not telling them? What if they read it in a newspaper?’

  ‘You’re right. I’d better give them a ring.’

  ‘Look, I’ve got to go back to the museum for an hour this evening, but would you like to come over to my flat afterwards for a bite to eat? I should be finished by about eight o’clock.’ Ashley paused. ‘You don’t really want to spend all evening alone do you?’

  ‘No, to be quite honest. Even spending the evening with Tristan would be preferable at the moment.’

  ‘Has Tristan gone?’

  ‘Yes. He moved out yesterday. Rented a flat from Simon.’

  ‘Simon?’

  ‘Yes.’ James’s eyebrows rose. ‘I did suggest he wait another week, not only because he’s still not strong, but I didn’t like to see him get involved with Simon. I don’t know where it leaves him now that Simon’s been arrested.’

  Ashley frowned. ‘Doesn’t he have any idea what sort of a person Simon is?’

  ‘Obviously not.’

  ****

  When they left the pub, James drove Ashley to the museum. ‘Would you like me to come back and pick you up?’ he asked.

  ‘Thanks, but I’m not sure exactly when I’ll finish, so I’ll get a taxi. I’ll see you about eight-thirty at the flat.’ She jumped down from the Range Rover, closed the door and waved.

  James drove on to the university, where he parked the car and mad
e his way into the building. He turned down the dimly lit corridor toward his office and it was then he saw a light coming from Tristan’s partially open door. Curious, he stopped and knocked. Seconds later the door flew open.

  ‘James.’

  ‘Hello, Tristan. What’re you doing here? You aren’t thinking of returning to work already are you? Didn’t the doctors advise you to rest for a month?’ James followed Tristan into the room.

  ‘Well, to be quite honest, I didn’t know where else to go.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Haven’t you heard? Simon’s been arrested. Can you believe it?’ Tristan threw his hands in the air and sat down heavily into an armchair. ‘And what’s worse, I was there in his office signing the lease agreement when the police arrived. They questioned me like a common criminal. So humiliating. And to think I rented a flat from the man.’ He gestured for James to sit down.

  ‘Well, I’m sure you can stay in the flat. At least until you find other accommodation.’

  ‘Oh, no. I can’t stay there. Not now. People might think I’m involved in some way. I’ll stay here tonight and look for another place tomorrow.’ Tristan paused. 'Surely the lease isn't binding now Simon's being held by the police.'

  'I have no idea.' James looked at Tristan's gaunt face, dark shadows encircling his eyes. ‘Look, you can’t stay here all night, you need proper rest.’ James hesitated. ‘Take my keys and go back to my place. You can decide what to do tomorrow.’ James stood up, took his keys out of his pocket, and handed them to Tristan.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure.’

  ‘I’m quite sure, Tristan.’

  ‘Thanks, James. I know we don’t get on and I want you to know I really appreciate this.’

  James sensed a hint of humility for the first time in Tristan Harrow.

  ****

  When it neared 8:30 that evening, James drove to Ashley’s flat. He pressed the buzzer next to her name and waited but as he did so, he heard the door open behind him and a female voice. ‘She’s not there.’ James turned to see a short, heavyset woman in her late forties leaning against the open doorway, a cigarette hung from the corner of her mouth as she spoke. ‘Saw her leave late this afternoon.’ A sneer crossed the woman’s face. ‘I wouldn’t wait around if I were you. Keeps late hours does that one.’

  As the woman disappeared out into the street, James turned back and pressed the buzzer again. When no answer came, he pulled out his mobile phone and dialled Ashley’s number. There was no reply. Alarm gripped him as memories of Cragleigh came to mind. He left the building, climbed into the car and drove back towards the museum. The place looked deserted. He pulled out his phone again and dialled Edward Sommersby's number.

  Moments later, he heard Edward’s voice. ‘Edward, thank God.’

  ‘James. What’s wrong?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I’m looking for Ashley. We were supposed to meet at her flat after she finished at the museum this evening, but she didn’t show up.’

  ‘Where are you now?’

  ‘Outside the museum, but there’s no sign of her and I can’t reach her on her mobile. I know it sounds like I’m overreacting, but after what’s happened in the past few weeks, I’m worried.’

  ‘Well, I can understand. Look, I’m not far from there. I’ll be with you in a few minutes. And James, don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine.’

  James tried to contain his concern as he waited, staring out at the sandstone edifice of the neoclassical building that housed the Australian Museum lit up against the night sky by the streetlights. When he saw headlights approaching in the rear view mirror, he got out of the car and closed the door.

  ‘James, I’ve rung the security guard. He says Ashley returned about an hour and a half ago, but she hasn’t left yet. She’s probably lost track of the time.’ Edward put his arm across the top of James’s shoulder. ‘Come on, we’ll go see her.’ They crossed the street and climbed the front steps. ‘I told security to watch out for us.’ The security guard met them at the entrance and James and Edward walked into the foyer.

  ‘Evening, Dr. Sommersby.’

  ‘Good evening, Liam. As I said on the phone, we just want to have a word with Ms Manning. We shan’t be long.’

  ‘This way, James. She’ll be in her office.’ They crossed the foyer and made their way upstairs, the museum's silence exaggerated by the sound of their leather-soled shoes on the terrazzo steps. When they reached Ashley's office, they stopped in the open doorway. The room stood empty and silent save for the hum of a computer. The remains of the telephone lay on the floor in the corner and the contents of a coffee mug soaked into papers on the desk. Ashley's coat and handbag were on a chair next to the door, and a long green scarf lay on the floor. James picked it up. 'This belongs to...'

  As he spoke, a deafening sound rang out. 'Good God!' cried James.

  ‘It’s the alarm,’ said Edward, running from the room. James followed. They returned to the foyer below where they found the guard behind his desk, staring at the security screens. He looked up as they approached. ‘Ms Manning’s left her office and set the alarm off. There she is on the screen now.’

  James frowned. ‘That’s not Ashley.’

  Edward shouted at the guard. ‘Where’s that camera for this screen?’

  ‘In the Bird Gallery, Doctor.’

  James followed Edward as he ran to the stairwell and up to the second level. As they reached the landing, the alarm stopped and silence took its place save for their footstep. They hesitated in the doorway of the Bird Gallery, its atrium-style ceiling and dim lighting lending an eerie feel. Wending their way around the balcony that encircled the room, the motionless, shadowy figures of the many birds in their glass cases stared out at them.

  'There's no one here,' said Edward, softly. As the words left his lips the sound of frantic footsteps sounded and James looked back to see two figures lurch through the doorway and into the Gallery where they struggled at the railing. One slumped and fell to the floor as he ran toward them. Met by a pair of ice blue eyes, James glowered. 'Catherine!'

  'James. You're too late. She's dead.' In the dim light, he could see a blood-soaked knife in Catherine's hand. James screamed and lunged at her. Catherine pulled away and sneered.

  'You can see why I had to kill them both, can't you? Alex lied to me from the very beginning. From the first moment we met at Rosemary's funeral.' She paused, a distant look in her eyes. 'Can you believe he came to her funeral? He, who had driven the car that killed her, and left her on the side of the road to die.'

  James stared at the expressionless face in front of him. 'You should have seen the look on his face when he saw that precious dagger in my hand... Amusing, I thought. He spent his life surrounded by such objects and then died by one. Appropriate, don't you think? But, of course, that's not the only reason he had to die.' Catherine gestured to the body on the floor. 'I knew about their affair.'

  Her curdled laugh chilled James's blood as he lunged at her again, catching the belt of her trench coat in his hand. The knife dropped to the floor and Catherine ran toward the doorway. James knelt down next to Ashley's body, oblivious to another scream that rang out.

  Edward came up beside him. ‘Don’t move her, James. I’ve called for an ambulance.’ He put his fingers on Ashley’s neck. ‘She’s alive.’ Edward ran along the balcony and down the stairs. Moments later, he returned with two paramedics.

  ****

  Outside, James climbed into the ambulance after Ashley. Edward appeared at the door. ‘Catherine’s dead, James.’ Dazed, James nodded, but did not reply.

  ‘I’ll see you at the hospital,’ said Edward. The paramedic closed the ambulance doors.

  ****

  James sat throughout the night at the hospital only jarred from his thoughts by the arrival of Edward.

  ‘How is she?’ he asked.

  James shrugged. ‘The doctors are still operating. I’ve managed to contact her mother in Adelaide. She’ll be here as
soon as she can.’ James rubbed his face with his hands.

  ‘Catherine?’

  ‘She broke her neck when she fell down the stairs. The police think she tripped on the belt from her coat. It was only attached at one side.’

  James stared at Edward.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Edward.

  James swallowed hard. ‘The belt, I pulled it as she ran away from me.’

  James and Edward looked at each other. Neither spoke.

  ****

  In the small hours of the morning, they looked up to see the doctor in front of them. ‘Dr Wearing?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Ms Manning has pulled through the operation.’

  ****

  James remained at the hospital throughout the following day. Exhausted, he now sat in a small waiting room dozing until he heard the sound of a woman’s voice.

  ‘I’m, Dr Susan Evans and I’m here to see my daughter, Ashley Manning.’

  A nurse replied, ‘If you’ll take a seat, Dr Evans, I’ll see what I can do.’

  James went to the door to find a tall woman in her mid-fifties, immaculate in appearance and exuding a forceful presence.

  ‘Dr Evans.’ As he spoke, the nurse scurried away. ‘I’m James Wearing. I telephoned you last night.’

  ‘Ah, yes, Dr Wearing. I’ve since spoken to the police. It seems you omitted to tell me that a member of your immediate family is responsible for the attack on my daughter. Your brother’s widow, I believe.’

  James met Susan Evans penetrating stare. ‘I’m afraid that’s true and I’m very sorry. If it makes it any easier, the doctors are confident that, with rest, Ashley will make a full recovery.’

  ‘Physically, yes, but I would think that the sheer trauma of this experience will be most debilitating and difficult to overcome, don’t you?’ James did not reply. Susan Evans glared at him. ‘I think under the circumstances, Dr Wearing, it would be appropriate for you to leave Ashley’s welfare to me now.’

  With that, she looked around. ‘Where's that stupid nurse?’ James watched as Susan Evans continued along the corridor.

  CHAPTER 26

  During the days that followed, James found himself once again in Fitzjohn’s office.