by Susan Lewis
– 26 –
My skin began to prickle and I shivered. It was as if evil were a real presence in the room’s chill air. I tore my eyes away from the mask and looked at Edward. His face was beatific; I half expected him to fall to his knees in worship.
‘My God,’ I breathed, ‘what have you done?’
‘Hush, hush,’ he soothed.
‘But for God’s sake . . .’
He gripped my hand and pulled me outside on to the landing. ‘Wait, we’ll speak downstairs.’ Then turning away, he switched off the lights and locked the door.
He was right, no one would ever know that the Tutankhamun death mask was here, because in its place in the Cairo museum was another death mask, a brilliant forgery. And no one would suspect, because who in their wildest dreams could ever have imagined that for the past five years a small team of expert forgers had been taking advantage of the deplorable security at the museum to enter the building by day as tourists, hide in the store-room until the museum closed, then come out of hiding at night and begin their work. It seemed the only problem they had faced was the one of getting the mask out of the museum. But in the end, even that hadn’t proved too difficult. The forgers had simply added the case containing the mask to a lorry-load of packing-cases being transported to Luxor, then hi-jacked the lorry on the outskirts of Cairo; later in the day the lorry was found with its cargo intact – except for the one crucial packing-case that no one had known was there in the first place.
When Edward had finished his recital I got up to pour myself another brandy. I didn’t normally drink a lot, but that night I needed it. It was incredible, the two of us sitting in our own drawing-room like any other married couple, talking and drinking brandy, while my husband told me calmly and quietly how he had masterminded a crime of theft and forgery unparalleled in the art world’s history.
I slept in Charlotte’s room that night. Edward frightened me. All these years I’d thought I knew him, and now he was a stranger.
When Jeffrey and Canary brought the children back the next day I was terrified that Edward was going to invite them into the Egyptian Room. He didn’t, nor did he go there himself. Instead he drove Charlotte to the village hall where she was needed for a Romeo and Juliet rehearsal, and took Jonathan on to see one of his clients in Tunbridge Wells. Business was continuing as normal.
I found Christine in her office and asked her the reason for the lie about her foot.
‘Edward didn’t want to wait to unpack the mask when he got back, so everything that still remained in the Egyptian Room had to be moved out to make way for it. Jeffrey and I took it all to the warehouse; you were the only one left who could drive.’
‘But why couldn’t he drive himself?’
‘You saw him,’ she answered. ‘He wasn’t in any state to drive.’
How I wished David was there! – I so badly needed to talk to someone. I thought of ringing him in Gstaad, but realised that the reason he had gone there in the first place was so that he shouldn’t have to have anything to do with this business . . . .
Knowing Alexander would be worried about me, I rang him at chambers and for once found him there. I told him some story about Edward being ill. The night before, as I’d tossed and turned in bed, my one thought had been to ask him for help, but in the cold light of day I realised I couldn’t involve him. He was a lawyer. If it should ever come out that he had known what was going on at Westmoor, his career would be finished.
At the weekend an absurd normality prevailed. Though Edward was ludicrously happy, and showered us all with gifts, no one seemed to sense that things weren’t as they should be. The strangest thing of all was that Edward never went near the Egyptian Room.
The day Edward died began like any other – the children shouting to each other across the landing, breakfast in the dining-room, Christine on the telephone to the London office, and Edward lounging with the newspaper in the Blue Sitting-Room. I went to find him. I knew I didn’t stand any hope of persuading him to return the mask, but I had to try before I decided what I should do next.
I suggested we went into the garden where we couldn’t be overheard. As we walked he pulled my arm through his, smiling the half-crazy smile he had worn ever since the night the mask arrived. Again I was struck by the insane unreality of it all: here were a husband and wife apparently taking an innocent stroll round their garden, while all the time they were discussing the presence in their home of the world’s greatest treasure.
‘Superstitious nonsense,’ he laughed, when I told him how I had sensed something evil the moment I’d set eyes on it. ‘Now put all that sort of thing out of your mind. All we need think about is that I’ve finally got the very thing I’ve wanted all my life. And look at it in this way, it’s safe here – infinitely safer than it was at the Cairo museum with that appalling security system. They don’t deserve . . .’ He stopped, and I could see he was trying to get himself under control. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘it’s just that it makes my blood boil to think that anyone, at any time, can break in there and take anything they want. They’ve no security cameras, no alarms, no . . .’
‘But Edward, don’t you see, you’re one of the people you’re talking about. You, or someone you’ve paid, has breached that security system and taken the most valuable piece in the museum’s entire collection. Isn’t there some way you can get it back there, darling? That’s where it belongs, you know it is.’
‘You’re wrong, Elizabeth. It belongs here, with me.’
‘But how can it? I mean, you’re not even Egyptian.’
‘Who knows who or what I was in a past life?’ he smiled. ‘Perhaps I should tell you about the affinity I’ve always . . .’
‘No, Edward, I won’t listen. It’s madness. What’s happened to you? You’ve always been an honest man. Why have you done this? What’s going to happen to you if anyone finds out?’
‘But I’ve already told you, my darling, no one will find out. There’s no reason for anyone to examine the mask that is in the museum now, and only an expert would be able to tell the difference.’
‘Then now you’ve got it, why don’t you ever go and look at it? You’ve never been near it since the night it arrived. Oh please, Edward, get it out of the house. Even if you have to keep it, please, just take it somewhere else. I can’t bear it being under the same roof as Charlotte and Jonathan.’
‘We could ask them what they think about it,’ said Edward. ‘Here’s Charlotte coming now. Shall we ask her?’
‘No!’
‘I was only teasing,’ he whispered, and kissed my forehead. Turning to Charlotte who was walking across the lawn with Christine, he cried, ‘And to what do we owe this pleasure? I thought you were dashing off to a rehearsal?’
‘I am,’ she answered, ‘but there’s something I want to ask you first.’ She seemed reluctant, and I guessed immediately it was something to do with her new boyfriend. ‘It’s just that Colin and some of the others are going to Devon camping next weekend,’ she said, ‘and they’ve invited me.’
‘I’m sorry, darling,’ I said, ‘it’s out of the question. All those boys and girls are at least sixteen, aren’t they, and you’re only fourteen and a half. It’s too young to be going away for a weekend like that. And besides, Colin’s not exactly the type of boy you should be mixing with, is he now?’
‘You mean, because he’s not the same class as us. Because his father’s only a baker. Well, you’re a fine one to talk!’
‘I didn’t mean that at all. I was referring to . . .’
‘You did! You’re a snob, Mother. Well, his father may be a baker, but what about yours? You grew up on a fairground! You were little more than a gypsy before . . .’
‘Charlotte!’ Edward’s voice cut across hers. ‘That’s enough! I don’t ever want to hear you talk to your mother like that again. Now, you heard the answer, you can’t go, and that’s final.’
‘Who asked you?’
‘Charlotte!’ I cried.
‘No one asked me,’ Edward snapped, ‘but I’m telling you. I’ve had just about enough of you these past few weeks. You’re rude and insolent, and it’s about time someone taught you a lesson. Now go to your room, I’ll speak to you later.’
‘You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not even my real father.’
Edward’s face turned ashen. ‘What did you say?’ he breathed.
‘I said you’re not my real father.’
‘Charlotte, come back here,’ I cried, grabbing hold of her arm.
‘Let go of me!’ she yelled.
Suddenly Christine caught her by the shoulder and dealt her a stinging blew across the face. ‘You little bitch!’ she snarled. ‘How dare you speak to your father like that?’
‘He’s not my father!’ Charlotte cried. ‘He’s not! He’s not! I hate him!’
‘Take her inside, Christine,’ Edward said.
Charlotte tried to fight her off, but Christine was too strong. Edward and I watched them cross the lawn until they disappeared inside the house.
‘I suppose we always knew that one day this would happen,’ Edward said. ‘I never thought it would be quite like this, though.’ He turned to face me. ‘Does she know him?’
I shook my head.
‘But you’ve been seeing him? No, don’t lie to me, Elizabeth, I saw your face just now. How long has it been going on?’
‘Four years, maybe longer.’
He seemed to crumple then. ‘All that time,’ he whispered. ‘I told you you could have your freedom, but you said you wanted to stay. And all the time . . .’
When I didn’t say anything, he covered his face with his hands. ‘I’ve tried so hard to understand you. I’ve done everything I could do to make things easier for you, but in the end you always go back to him. What is it about him, Elizabeth? Why is it that you can’t let go?’
To have tried to explain my love for Alexander would only have added to his pain. I stayed silent.
‘You’ve held your love back from me all these years. Charlotte’s sensed it. It’s what’s turned her against me.’
‘I didn’t turn her against you, Edward. I don’t know why she behaved as she did, but I swear to you, she knows nothing about her father.’
He tried to smile through his tears. ‘Her father.’ He turned away and started to walk slowly towards the house. His shoulders were hunched, as if trying to shield himself against any more hurt.
I followed him inside. I thought at first he was going to Charlotte’s room, but as he reached the landing he turned in the opposite direction towards the Egyptian Room, and I stayed close behind him – for some reason I felt he wanted me to.
When he opened the Egyptian Room door, I gasped. The walls and ceiling of the room had been painted in turquoise and gold stripes, and with the sun streaming in through the slats in the blind, it was as if the entire room was filled by the mask.
Edward turned to me. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ And it was. We stood at the door, letting the light fall over us, absorbing us into the unholy pattern of gold and blue. Again I was aware of the ebony eyes watching me from the centre of the room.
Edward went to stand beside it. The serene face, supported by the plaited beard and resting on the magnificent collar of lapis lazuli, quartz and amazonite, gazed up at him with youth and innocence.
Suddenly my blood turned cold. Edward was touching the mask, his fingers trembling so hard they were banging against the side of the golden head.
I caught him as he collapsed, falling to my knees with him.
‘The years!’ The words gurgled at the back of his throat. ‘Years,’ he said again.
‘Years?’ I said. ‘What about them? What is it? Oh Edward, please.’ I screamed for help, but it was already too late.
Over the next few days my most difficult task was trying to console Charlotte. Nothing would persuade her that Edward had died of a stroke, she was convinced she had brought about his death herself. I didn’t ask her why she had chosen to mention her real father when she did – she was suffering enough already.
Christine confined herself to her room.
It wasn’t until after the funeral that I told David what had happened when Edward died. He was as baffled as I was about why, in his last moments, Edward, should have been trying to say something about ‘years’. None of us talked about what was to happen to the mask now, though we were all acutely aware of its presence.
The day after the funeral, Alexander rang. He had heard about Edward. I knew from the sound of his voice that he was genuinely sorry. It was so good to hear him, to speak to someone who was not connected in any way with the whole dreadful business of the mask, that I broke down and cried. They were the first tears I’d shed since that terrible morning in the Egyptian Room.
Alexander listened as I explained that I would never be able to forgive myself for the way in which Edward had found out about us. I told him that we had both lied and cheated for long enough, that it was time to say goodbye before we brought more pain into other people’s lives – including the lives of our children.
His parting words echoed my own thoughts and descended over me like a dark cloak. ‘God only knows why things have to be like this for us, Elizabeth. Our only crime has been to love one another. But this time I know there is something you’re not telling me. So I want you to know, when you feel you can trust me, that I’ll be here. Until then, please remember that I love you with all my heart.’
I was dumbfounded when I learned that Edward had left everything to me. There was, of course, a sizeable sum for Christine, but for reasons known only to Edward, it was tied up in trusts. There was a codicil to the will, to the effect that, should I die before Christine, she was to hold the money in trust for Charlotte and Jonathan. From the tight expression on Christine’s face as we left the lawyer’s office, it was obvious that this was not the will she had been expecting, and I knew that life from here on was going to be difficult . . . .
It started when she came to me a week later and asked for money. I was shocked – not because I would have refused her anything she wanted, but because of the amount she asked for, and the reason she gave for wanting it.
‘You’re asking me to pay for the forging of that mask? I’m sorry, Christine, but I want nothing to do with it. You’ll have to sort it out yourself.’
‘For God’s sake, grow up! Don’t you realise you’re as deeply implicated in this as I am? You’ve known all along the mask was here, and haven’t told anyone. You even drove Edward down to pick it up that night. You went to Egypt with him, you even went to the museum with him. In fact, if it weren’t for you the bloody thing might not be here at all.’
‘Me! It’s got nothing to do with me!’
‘It’s got everything to do with you. Before you came along, the mask was just an object to him, a beautiful object that he admired. It was because of the way you treated him that the obsession started. He was crazy about you, Elizabeth, so crazy that when you abused his love, kicked him in the face time after time, the only way he could survive was to clutch at something that wouldn’t turn on him, wouldn’t keep reminding him that he wasn’t good enough. It was all a substitute for you. So, like it or not, you’re involved right up to your neck.’ She paused. ‘Now, fifty thousand pounds is what the forgers want. It’s the first instalment of what Edward promised them. And it would be better for both of us if you paid because, as I’m sure you realise, they have it in their power to send us to prison for a very long time.’
‘But I didn’t know anything about what Edward was doing! Oh God, this is all too ridiculous for words. Why didn’t he ever talk to me about it? I did love him, he must have known that. You must have known what was happening all along – why didn’t you stop him?’
‘Stop him! I could no more have stopped him than I could have forged the damned thing myself. He had to have it. As far as he was concerned, he was the only person in the world who could protect it. But he wouldn’t have
needed to protect it if he hadn’t been afraid he couldn’t hold on to you. He had to have something he could cherish – Edward was like that.’ There was a cruel smile on her mouth as she continued. ‘And you ask why he didn’t talk to you about it. He didn’t tell you about it because you didn’t want to know. You were only interested in your lover. All you ever wanted from Edward was his money and his status. Well, you’ve got them – and now you’re going to have to pay for them.’
‘But I’m not going to pay, Christine. Do you hear me, I’m not! I’ll give the mask back!’
She threw her hands in the air, then slapped them against her thighs. ‘This is the Tutankhamun death mask we’re talking about, not some bloody hamper from Harrods! Don’t be naive! They want money, Elizabeth. Money! They’ve given us five days in which to pay, or they’ll start leaking what they know – and that includes the murder of a museum security guard, whose body is even now hidden in one of the sarcophagi.’
‘What!’ It was all too much for me to take in.
‘You heard me.’ Her voice was quiet, but the bitterness that coated her words sent shivers down my spine. ‘He was murdered, Elizabeth, because he found the forgers at work. You heard me scream that night, didn’t you? That’s what it was all about. I thought it was someone else who’d been killed at the time, but that doesn’t matter now. Are you getting the picture? These people aren’t to be messed around with. Pay – or I’m telling you, you’ll live to regret it. And so will those bastards of yours, too.’
I had been sitting at Edward’s desk when she’d come into the study, but now I was beside the sofa, gripping the back of it. ‘I’ll need time to think,’ I said. ‘I have to go up to London tomorrow, the children are starting back at school.’
‘You can think all you like, Elizabeth, but there’s only one answer, and the sooner you come to terms with it, the better. I’ll telephone you tomorrow night. What time are you seeing your lover? I’ll make sure I call before you leave. Or perhaps you’d like to give me the number of your flat in Chelsea?’
