Murder Most Merry

by ed. Abigail Browining

  Pauline always wore something in pink or yellow with layers of net. She was in competition with the fairy on the tree, according to Andy.

  She smiled her thanks for the compliment. “Not very practical for the time of year, but I couldn’t resist it. Let’s take your coats. And Happy Christmas.”

  “First I’ll park these under the tree,” said Andy. “The brown paper one isn’t from us, by the way. We found it on your doorstep. Doesn’t feel heavy enough for booze, more’s the pity.”

  “I do like surprises,” said Pauline.

  “A secret admirer?” said Gemma.

  “At my age?”

  “Oh, come on, what does that say for me, pushing forty?”

  “You’ve got your admirer.”

  Gemma rolled her eyes upwards and said nothing.

  “Come and say hello to Geoff.” Pauline cupped her hand to her mouth as she added, “Hasn’t had any work for three months, he told me.”

  “Oh, no.”

  Their accountant brother, short and fat, with half-glasses, greeted Gemma. “Merry Christmas” was likely to be the extent of his conversation for the day unless someone asked him about his garden.

  Pauline brought in a tray of tea things.

  Andy said, “Not for me, I’ll help myself to a brandy, if you don’t mind. Want one, Geoff?”

  Geoff shook his head.

  “Any trouble getting here?”

  Geoff gave a shrug.

  “Roads okay your way, then?”

  Geoff thought about it and gave another shrug.

  Pauline said. “It’s nearly four. Reg ought to be here. It’s not as if he has far to come. Geoff has a longer trip and he was here by three-thirty.”

  “Knowing Reg of old, he could be planning one of his stunts,” said Andy. “Remember the year of the ghost in the bathroom, Pauline?”

  “Don’t!” she said. “Will I ever forget it? It was so real, and he knew I was scared of living here alone.”

  Between them, they recalled Reg’s party tricks in recent years: the time he arrived with his friend masquerading as an African bishop; the year the Queen’s voice came out of the cocktail cabinet; and the live turkey in Geoff’s car.

  “You’ve got to give him full marks for trying,” said Andy. “It would be a dull old Christmas without him.”

  “I’d rather have it dull,” said Pauline.

  “Me, too,” said Gemma. “I may be his flesh and blood, but I don’t share his sense of humor.”

  “Only because it could be your turn this time,” said Andy. “Poor old Geoff got it last year. The sight of that turkey pecking your hand when you opened the door, Geoff, I’ll never forget.

  Geoff stared back without smiling.

  Ten minutes later, Pauline said, “I’ve had the cocktail sausages warming for over an hour. They’ll be burnt to a cinder. And we haven’t even opened a single present.”

  “Want me to phone him, see if he’s left?” Andy offered.

  “Of course he’s left.” said Gemma. “He must have.”

  Pauline started to say, “I hope nothing’s—”

  Gemma said quickly, “He’s all right. He wants to keep us in suspense. We’re playing into his hands. I think we should get on with the party without him. Why don’t we open some presents?”

  “I think we ought to wait for Reg.”

  “You could open the one we found on the doorstep,” Andy suggested to Pauline.

  “Unless it is something personal,” said Gemma.

  That induced a change of mind from Pauline. “I’ve got nothing to hide from any of you.”

  Andy retrieved the parcel from under the tree, turned it over, and examined the brown paper wrapping. “There’s nothing written on it. Maybe it isn’t meant for Pauline after all.”

  “If it was left on her doorstep, it’s hers,” said Gemma.

  Pauline sat in a chair with the parcel deep in the froth of her skirt and picked at the Sellotape. She was too fastidious to tear the paper.

  “You want scissors,” said Andy.

  “I can manage.” She eased open the brown paper. “It’s gift-wrapped inside.”

  “Where’s the tag?” said Gemma. “Who’s it from?”

  “There isn’t one.” Pauline examined the tinsel-tied parcel in its shiny red wrapper.

  “Open it, then.”

  She worked at one edge of the paper with one of her long, lacquered fingernails. “Look, there’s more wrapping inside.”

  “Just like pass the parcel,” said Gemma.

  Andy gave his wife a murderous look.

  The paper yielded to Pauline’s gentle probing. Underneath was yet another wrapping, with a design of holly and Christmas roses. She said, “I think you’re right. This is meant for a game.”

  Andy swore under his breath.

  “Let’s all play, then,” said Gemma with an amused glance at her husband’s reaction.

  “After tea.”

  “No, now. While we’re waiting for Reg. Pull up a chair everyone and sit in a circle. I’ll look after the music.”

  ‘Just three of us?” said Andy.

  Gemma mocked him with a look. “You know how Pauline adores this game.”

  Andy and Pauline positioned themselves close to where Geoff was already seated, while Gemma selected a CD and placed it on the deck of the music center.

  “What is it—’The Teddy Bears’ Picnic’? “ said Andy.

  Pauline was impervious to sarcasm.” ‘Destiny,’ ” she said as the sound of strings filled the room.

  “That’s an old one.”

  “Start passing it, then,” said Gemma. “I’m not playing this for my amusement.”

  Pauline handed the parcel to Andy, who held it to his chest. “No cheating,” said Pauline.

  He passed it to Geoff and the music stopped. Geoff unwrapped a piece of pink paper and revealed a silver layer beneath.

  “Tough.” said Andy. “Play on, maestro.”

  As the game resumed, Pauline told her sister, “You’re supposed to have your back to us. It isn’t fair if you can see who the parcel has reached.”

  “She likes playing God.” said Andy. “Whoops.” The music had stopped and the parcel was on his lap. He ripped it open; no finer feelings. “Too bad. Give it another whirl, Gem.”

  Geoff was the next to remove a layer. He did it in silence as usual.

  “More music?” said Gemma.

  “You got it,” said Andy.

  Three more wrappings came off before Pauline got a turn. The parcel was appreciably smaller.

  “This could be it,” said Andy. “You can see the shape.”

  “But of what?” said Pauline “It looks like a box to me.” She was pink in the face as she peeled back the paper, but it was clear that another burst of music would be necessary.

  When Andy received the parcel he held it to his ear and gave it a shake. Nothing rattled.

  “Come on, pass it,” said Pauline, drumming her shoes on the carpet.

  Geoff fumbled and dropped the parcel as the music stopped. Pauline snatched it up.

  “Not so fast,” said Andy. “Geoff hadn’t passed it to you.”

  But she had already unfolded the tissue paper from around a matchbox, one of the jumbo size capable of holding two hundred and fifty matches.

  “One more round, apparently,” said Gemma, and she turned up the music again. To sustain the suspense, a longer stretch of “Destiny” was wanted.

  “What could it be?” said Pauline.

  “Matches,” said Andy.

  “A silk scarf would be nice,” said Pauline.

  “Game on,” said Andy.

  The matchbox was sent on its way around the three players.

  “No looking,” Andy reminded his wife. “We’re down to the wire now. This has to be impartial.”

  “Faster,” said Pauline.

  “She’s a goer, your sister,” said Andy.

  The matchbox fairly raced from lap to lap.

&n
bsp; “Do you mind? I didn’t know you cared,” said Andy when Pauline’s impetuous hand clasped his thigh.

  Even Geoff was leaning forward, absorbed in the climax of the game. The music stopped just as he was passing the box to Pauline. They both had their hands on it.

  “Mine,” she said.

  Geoff apparently knew better than to thwart his younger sister.

  “I suppose it’s only justice that you get the prize, as it was left on your doorstep,” said Andy. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Unable to contain her curiosity, Gemma came over to see.

  Pauline slid the box half-open, dropped it into her lap, and said in horror, “Oh, I don’t believe it!”

  “It’s a joke, said Gemma. “It must be a joke.”

  “It isn’t,” said Pauline in a thin, strained voice. “That’s somebody’s thumb. Ugh!” She hooked the box off her skirt as if it were alive and dropped it on the coffee table.

  Large and pale, the offending digit lay on a bed of cotton wool.

  “No it isn’t,” said Andy. “It’s too big for a thumb. It’s a big toe.”

  “A toe?”

  “Yes, it’s too fleshy for a thumb.”

  “It must be out of a joke shop,” said Gemma. “If Reg is responsible for this, I’ll strangle him.”

  “Typical of his humor,” said Andy.

  Then Geoff spoke. “I think it’s real.”

  “It can’t be,” said Gemma.

  “Open it right out,” said Andy.

  “I’m not touching it,” said Pauline.

  Andy lifted the box and opened it, separating the drawer from its casing.

  “I can’t bear to look,” said Pauline. “Keep it away from me.”

  “It’s the real thing,” said Andy. “You can see where it was—”

  “God in Heaven—we don’t wish to see,” said Gemma. “Put it somewhere out of sight and give Pauline some of that brandy we brought.”

  “What a vile trick,” said Pauline.

  Andy reunited the two sections of the matchbox and placed it on a bookshelf before going to the brandy bottle. “Anybody else want some Dutch courage?”

  Geoff gave a nod.

  Andy’s hand shook as he poured. Everyone was in a state of shock.

  “He’s gone too far this time,” said Gemma. “He’s ruined Christmas for all of us. I shall tell him. Are you all right, love?”

  Pauline took a gulp of brandy and gave a nod.

  “It’s ghoulish,” said Gemma.

  “Sick.” said Andy. “You all right, Geoff? You’ve gone very pale.”

  “I’m okay,” Geoff managed to say.

  “Drink some brandy, mate.”

  Gemma said, “Andy, would you take it right out of the room and get rid of it? It’s upsetting us all.”

  Andy picked the matchbox off the bookshelf and left the room. Gemma collected the discarded sheets of wrapping paper and joined him in the kitchen. “Where would Reg have got such a ghoulish thing?” she whispered.

  Andy shrugged. “Who knows? I don’t imagine a branch manager at the Midland Bank comes across many severed toes.”

  “What are we going to do? Pauline’s nerves are shattered and Geoff looks ready to faint.”

  “A fresh cup of tea is supposed to be good for shock. What am I going to do with this?”

  “I don’t know. Bury it in the garden.”

  “Pauline is sure to ask where it went.”

  “Then we’d better take it with us when we go. We can dump it somewhere on the way home.”

  “Why should we have to deal with it?” said Andy. “I’ll give it back to bloody Reg. He can get rid of it.”

  “If he has the gall to show his face here. Just keep it out of everyone’s sight in the meantime.”

  To satisfy himself that the toe really was of human origin, Andy slid open the matchbox again. This time he noticed a folded piece of paper tucked into one end. “Hey, there’s something inside. I think it’s a note.” After reading the typed message, he handed it to Gemma. “What do you make of that?”

  She stared at the paper. “It can’t be true. It’s got to be a hoax.”

  They joined Pauline and Geoff in the living room. “We thought you might appreciate some tea.” said Gemma.

  “You’re marvellous,” said Pauline. “I should have thought of that.”

  “Getting over the shock?”

  “I think so.”

  “You too, Geoff?”

  Geoff gave a nod.

  Andy cleared his throat. “I found this note in the matchbox.”

  “A note?” said Pauline. “From Reg?”

  “Apparently not. It says, If you want the rest of your brother—’ “

  “Oh, no!” said Pauline.

  “ If you want the rest of your brother, bring ten thousand pounds or equivalent to the telephone box at Chilton Leys at five-thirty. Just one of you. If you don’t, or if you call the police, you can find the bits all over Suffolk.’ ”

  “Andy, I think she’s going to faint.”

  “I’m all right,” said Pauline. “If this is true, that toe...”

  “But it isn’t true,” said Andy, spacing the words. “It’s Reg having us on, as he does every year.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “He’ll turn up presently grinning all over his fat face. The best thing we can do is get on with the party.”

  There was little enthusiasm for unwrapping presents or eating overcooked sausage, so they turned on the television and watched for a while.

  “How could we possibly put our hands on ten thousand pounds on Christmas Day?” said Pauline during the commercial break.

  “That’s the giveaway,” said Andy. “A professional kidnapper would know better.”

  “You’ve got three hundred in notes in your back pocket,” said Gemma. “You know you have. You said we needed it over the holiday in case of emergencies.”

  “Three hundred is peanuts compared to ten grand.”

  “I’ve got about a hundred and twenty in my bag,” said Gemma.

  Geoff took out his wallet and counted the edges of his bank notes.

  “Doesn’t look as if Geoff can chip in much,” said Andy.

  Gemma said on a note of reproach, “Andy.”

  Andy said, “No offence, mate.”

  Geoff put his wallet away.

  “Well, that’s it. We couldn’t afford to pay the kidnappers if they existed,” Andy summed up. “How much do you have in the house, Pauline?”

  “In cash? About two hundred.”

  “Less than eight hundred between us.”

  “But I’ve got a thousand in travellers’ cheques for my holiday in Florida.”

  “Still a long way short,” said Andy.

  “Good thing it’s only a hoax,” said Gemma.

  “There are my pearls,” said Pauline, fingering them. “They cost over a thousand. And I have some valuable rings upstairs.”

  “If we’re talking jewellery, Gemma’s ruby necklace is the real thing,” said

  Andy.

  “So is your Rolex watch,” Gemma countered. “And the gold ingot you wear under your shirt.”

  “I notice you haven’t offered your earrings. They cost a bomb, if I remember right.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “Where the hell is Chilton Leys anyway?”

  “Not far,” said Pauline.

  “I passed it on my way here,” said Geoff.

  They were silent for an interval. Then Andy said, “Well, has anyone spoken to Reg on the phone in the past twenty-four hours?”

  “It must be a week since we spoke.” said Pauline.

  “What time is it?” said Gemma.

  “Five past five.”

  “He would have been here by now,” said Pauline. “Or if he had trouble with the car he would have phoned.”

  “Anyone care for another drink?” asked Andy.

  “How many is that you’ve had already?” said Gemma.
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  “I want to say something,” said Pauline.

  “Feel free,” said Andy, with the bottle in his hand.

  She smoothed her skirt. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but if it wasn’t a hoax and Reg really had been kidnapped, we could never forgive ourselves if these people murdered him because we did nothing about it.”

  “Come off it,” said Andy.

  “I mean, why are we refusing to respond to the note? Is it because we’re afraid of making fools of ourselves? Is that all it is?”

  “We don’t believe it, that’s why,” said Gemma.

  “You mean you don’t want to run the risk of Reg having the last laugh? It’s all about self-esteem, isn’t it? How typical of our family—all inflated egos. We’d rather run the risk of Reg being murdered than lay ourselves open to ridicule.”

  “That isn’t the point,” said Andy. “We’re calling his bluff.”

  “So you say. And if by some freak of circumstances you’re mistaken, how will any of us live with it for the rest of our lives? I’m telling you, Andy, I’m frightened. I know what you’re thinking. I can see it in your eyes. I’m gullible, a stupid, immature female. Well I don’t mind admitting I’m bloody frightened. If none of you wants to take this seriously that’s up to you. I do. I’m going to put all the money I have into a bag and take it to that phone box. If nobody comes, what have I lost? Some dignity, that’s all. You can laugh at me every Christmas from now on. But I mean it.” She stood up.

  “Hold on,” said Andy. “We’ve heard what you think. What about the rest of us?”

  “It isn’t quite the same for you, is it?” said Pauline. “He’s my brother.”

  “He’s Gemma’s brother, too. And Geoff’s.”

  Andy switched to his wife. “What do you want to do about it?”

  Gemma hesitated.

  “Or Geoff,” said Andy. “Do you have an opinion, Geoff?”

  Geoffs hand went to his collar as if it had tightened suddenly.

  Gemma said, “Pauline is right. Ten to one it’s Reg having us on, but we can’t take the risk. We’ve got to do something.”

  Geoff nodded. He backed his sisters.

  Pauline said, “I’m going upstairs to collect my jewellery, such as it is. We pool everything we have, right?”

  “Right,” said Gemma, unfixing her gold earrings and turning to Andy. “Do you want to be part of this, or not?”

  Andy slapped his wad of bank notes on the table. “I don’t believe in these kidnappers anyway.”