‘So Magnus left. But he phoned me, after, and asked me to meet him, saying … promising … Oh, of course I knew it was all lies. He’d have promised anything to get me to take him back but I didn’t really want to, because I remembered the times he came home after dining some floozy or other, pretending it was nothing. Edith was furious with him. She didn’t want me to meet him. She said he’d done enough damage, hadn’t he, and that she couldn’t trust me not to take him back, which I wouldn’t have, honestly I wouldn’t. But she thought I might. And I suppose …’
A long sigh. ‘Anyway, she insisted that if he rang again, she’d speak to him and she’d arrange for him to go abroad if I agreed to pay him an allowance, which I did, although it went against the grain because I was helping to put Edith’s grandchildren through boarding school at the time. I never saw Magnus again. He went off to the Caribbean, and my brother-in-law set up a direct-debit scheme to pay an intermediary to make sure Magnus got the money every month. Everything settled down again, with the grandchildren growing up and keeping me young. It’s been a good life.’
‘You got proof that your husband died abroad?’
‘That’s right. My brother-in-law got word that Magnus had died out there. Penniless, of course. I paid for the funeral. St Lucia, or St Kitts, or somewhere. A drunken argument; he was run off the road and died. The details didn’t really matter because we’d been divorced for ever, but it tidied things up.’
‘When was the door bricked up between you and Penelope?’
‘Oh, years ago. No matter what I said, the children would go next door to play silly games, try to shoot the neighbouring cats, chase one another, out of my sight. One of the boys got hurt jumping off the wall, and Penelope didn’t like the way they treated her very last dog, Rover – such a lovely dog, but nervy. Venetia—’ a reminiscent smile – ‘was quite a tomboy, too. Penelope and I both had words with them, but it was no good. They didn’t take any notice. Both gardens were pretty wild then. Edith got worried that they would stray further, try climbing walls into other people’s gardens; you know what youngsters are, daring one another to do silly things. So she said we ought to brick up the door, and of course she was right. After that I used to go round to Penelope’s front door instead of through the garden.’
Rollo was almost horizontal in his chair. He put his hands round the back of his head with his elbows hiding most of his face. ‘They make her live down here in the basement, which is cold and damp in the winter, while they take over all the best rooms.’
‘Don’t be silly, dear,’ said Mona, tapping him on his knee again. ‘It’s cosy down here and much easier for me than climbing all those stairs. And, I’m so old-fashioned, I like my own bits and pieces around me.’
He mumbled, ‘I wouldn’t mind if they didn’t treat you like dirt.’
She shook her head at him. ‘Now, now, Rollo. You’re giving Mrs Abbot entirely the wrong impression of us.’
Rollo lowered one elbow to stare at Bea. ‘I realize that it was my fault that the wall fell down. My father said I was only a child and not responsible, and that he wasn’t responsible either because it was all your fault for not maintaining the wall properly. He told the insurance people that none of us were anywhere near the wall when it fell down, and he forbade me to speak to them myself, but that’s not right.’ He was on the verge of tears. ‘I said to him that it wasn’t right to put the blame on you, but he …’ Rollo swallowed.
Bea tried to fill in the missing words. ‘He hit you?’
Mona was distressed. ‘Oh, no! He didn’t, did he, Rollo?’
Rollo swiped at his eyes. ‘I deserved it, didn’t I? And then grandfather came down and said the wall wasn’t ours but yours, anyway.’
Mona jerked upright. ‘But of course it’s ours! I should know, shouldn’t I? He had no right to … I suppose he thought that …’ The habit of looking after her family was asserting itself over the need to be truthful. She tapped Rollo’s arm. ‘Rollo, you are not to get into a state about this. You are a minor, and your family is responsible for what you do. I am properly insured. I may not have had enough money to pay for redecorating and rewiring, but I assure you that I have always kept the insurances up to date.’
‘Really?’ Rollo fumbled to catch his granny’s hand. ‘You know what? You’re a star. I know that Gideon and Venetia have cost you a lot this last year …’
‘Hush,’ said Mona. ‘Hush. Mrs Abbot doesn’t need to know about that.’
‘… and Dad’s new car, not to mention—’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Mona. ‘You’re a good lad. The best of the bunch. We’ll manage, somehow.’
Bea said, ‘Investments don’t retain their value nowadays, do they? The value of the houses go up, but so do living costs. Is that why Penelope decided to sell?’
‘She had planned to live out her life here, but yes, her income was shrinking, and she didn’t really fancy taking in lodgers as some people have in this road, and it was getting harder and harder for her to run her little charity, especially after the friend retired who used to help her with it. Then she and I got these letters from an estate agent on behalf of Sir Leon, only we didn’t know it was him at the time. We’re always getting letters asking if we’d like to sell, but in this case it was for cash, and they arrived just after Penelope had had a nasty fall and was beginning to see that she needed to move into a flat somewhere. I went with her to look at some places, and we found one overlooking the park; two big bedrooms and a huge sitting room and everything so attractively fitted out and big enough to take her favourite pieces of furniture. So she decided that she would follow up the estate agent’s offer. The estate agent said the buyer was only interested in this house and the next, and was prepared to pay over the odds for it.’
Bea nodded. Leon had wanted to buy a house whose garden wall intersected with hers. ‘You told your family about the sale next door?’
‘Well, yes, I suppose so. Just in passing. They’ve never been particularly interested in Penelope and her doings. I helped Penelope move, and the builders came in and took the house next door apart. I suppose we all grumbled about the noise and the dust, but the children were mostly away at university, and the spring is when my sister and her family fly off to the Caribbean for a holiday in the sun, so, well … it didn’t seem important.’
‘Until …?’
Mona’s hands plucked at her skirt. She stilled them with what seemed to be an effort. She was trying to pretend she didn’t know where this interview was going, but she knew all right. ‘Well, when my sister and brother-in-law came back, they got in a terrible state, saying that Penelope had no right to sell her house, which was ridiculous and she’s so much happier now she’s in her new place. Then Penelope told me who it was who’d bought the place – it was done through some sort of holding company so she hadn’t known the name before – and that they were going to go ahead and dig up the dogs’ bones …’
‘And they found the body of a man.’
Mona frowned. ‘I thought at first – God forgive me—’
‘You thought it might be Penelope’s husband, who was supposed to have been lost at sea. You thought that he must have turned up years later and maybe had had a heart attack and died. You thought that she might have been too embarrassed to tell anyone, and so had buried him in her garden. You’d known her all those years. You knew she was as sharp as a tack, but that was the thought that first crossed your mind.’
Mona reddened. ‘That was nonsense, of course. But yes, it did occur to me.’
‘And then you worked out whose body it was, and you didn’t know what to do about it.’
Rollo said, ‘Aunt Mona?’ Horrified. He was catching on, too.
Mona threw back her shoulders. ‘I told myself it wasn’t possible. It must be a tramp who’d crawled in there and died when Penelope wasn’t looking. Or, it was somebody who died years before I was born.’
‘Neither of those explanations satisfied you. You realized exa
ctly what had happened. You knew the police were going to be able to tell how long the body had been in the ground, and that they might also be able to tell how he’d died. You knew it was a matter of time till the whole sordid story came out, and that some day soon they were going to come knocking on your door, asking for DNA samples from Gideon and his younger brother.’
‘Aunt Mona!’ Rollo, in anguish. ‘What does she mean? She can’t mean …! Tell her it’s not true!’
Mona said, very quietly, ‘Now, Rollo. No need to panic. I’m hoping it’s not true. Praying it’s not true. But if it is …’
‘You know that it’s Magnus,’ said Bea. ‘Because Edith’s reaction when you told her the police had discovered the bones was extreme. It confirmed your worst fears. For a start I’d guess that Edith was furious with Penelope for allowing her buyer to dig up the garden.’
‘I told her that getting angry with Penelope wouldn’t help. That Sir Leon had every right to dig up his own garden if he wished to do so.’
‘And then – what did Edith say?’
Mona shook her head. ‘She’s my sister. It’s up to her how she responds when the police come calling. I said that I was happy to leave it in the hands of the police, and that if they wanted to talk to me, I’d cooperate.’
‘She asked you not to go to the police with your suspicions, and you agreed.’
A nod.
‘Aunt Mona!’ Rollo, working himself up into a state. ‘You mean it’s the remittance man out there? Your husband? Gideon and Grey’s grandfather? But … it can’t be! He went to the Caribbean and—’
‘I don’t know what happened,’ said Mona. ‘I’m trying not to think about it.’ She got up from her chair with an obvious effort, and switched on another side lamp. ‘Would anyone like a cup of tea now?’
A sharp voice broke in. ‘That’s your remedy for everything, isn’t it, sister mine? A nice cup of tea, arsenic included. Well, I don’t think the police will be fooled by it. Rollo, it’s rude to sit when your elders are standing. Stand up and let me have your chair. Mrs Abbot, I suppose you’ve worked out how and why my sister murdered her husband all those years ago?’
SIXTEEN
Rollo sprang up, face red, anxiety flaring. ‘No, Gran. No! She wouldn’t murder anyone! She c-couldn’t!’
‘Of course she could,’ said Lady Edith, settling herself in Rollo’s chair. She was perfectly coiffed and made up, wearing a wraparound pink silk top over silk and mohair trousers. Designer, strappy shoes. The contrast with dumpy and poorly dressed Mona was painful.
But Bea knew now where the money had come from in that family, and who spent it. She also liked and respected Mona Barwell, while she neither liked nor respected Edith Payne. Which did not, of course, preclude the fact that either of them – or both – might be lying.
Edith said, ‘Mrs Abbot, if you have come to complain about your wall falling down …?’
‘I haven’t.’
‘That was my f-fault,’ said Rollo.
Lady Payne ordered. ‘Shut your mouth. You don’t know what you’re saying. It was nothing whatever to do with you.’
Bea said, ‘I didn’t come about that.’
‘Then, you must have come, uninvited, to ask if we might be so kind as to let you have another piece of your personal property that your friend left here the other evening, after you had both disgraced yourselves.’
Ah-ha, here it came! Leon’s DNA, collected when Venetia scratched him!
Mona looked confused. ‘What do you mean, Edith? I’ve given her back the shoes I found in the gym.’
Edith was smiling, not nicely. ‘Mrs Abbot knows what I mean. That’s why she’s here. Sir Leon left something valuable behind when he crept out after the party …’
So Edith didn’t know exactly how she and Leon had managed to escape? Good, that meant Edith wouldn’t go after Sophy and Miguel.
‘Something valuable? What?’ Mona didn’t like the way the conversation was going. ‘Rollo, you were trying to tell me something—?’
Rollo shuffled his feet, looked agonized. ‘I d-don’t know anything. I overheard the others s-saying something, but they wouldn’t let me in on whatever it was, and what they said didn’t make s-sense.’
‘Of course it didn’t make sense,’ said Edith. ‘And nobody’s going to take any notice of what a little runt like you has to say. An amusing little game got slightly out of hand, that’s all. But it left me with a joker in hand.’
‘A game?’ Mona fumbled towards the truth. ‘Do you mean the fire at Mrs Abbot’s place?’ She looked at Bea. ‘I saw that your house had been in a fire but it happened when I was out. I don’t like big parties. I didn’t think I’d know anyone there and Edith said I’d only be in the way, which was quite true, so I went round to Penelope’s, as usual.’ Her voice tailed away. ‘Rollo, tell me you weren’t involved in setting the fire. Did you take the paraffin for my heater out of the shed, and … No, Rollo! Tell me you weren’t involved!’
‘No, I w-wasn’t, honest! You know what they’re like, the others w-won’t let me join in with anything they do, though I knew they were up to something and I tried to f-find out what it was. Gideon gave me a t-twenty and told me to go and get him some f-fags, which I told him they wouldn’t sell me because I’m under-age, but it was a g-good excuse to get out, because I hate that sort of party, too. So I hung around in the High Street and had some C-Coca-Cola and some chips, and didn’t come back till I thought it would be all over. I hoped Gideon would f-forget about the money, but he didn’t, and he gave me a right c-cuffing because I’d spent some of it but not got him any fags. Then they threw me out while they were talking and laughing about the evening, and I c-couldn’t hear properly. Only, when they went out c-clubbing, I found all that stuff on Venetia’s bed and I brought it down and gave it to Mrs Abbot.’
‘So you did,’ said Bea, ‘for which I was very grateful.’
Edith’s eyes narrowed. ‘Rollo, there was an envelope that I gave Venetia. Rather important. You didn’t give that to Mrs Abbot, did you? No! I’d have noticed.’
He shook his head. ‘No, it was under the bed, on the floor. I d-didn’t see it till later and—’
Edith’s nostrils flared. ‘Go and get it! Now!’
‘Hold on a mo,’ said Bea. ‘Rollo, do you know what’s in that envelope?’
‘Yes, I—’
Edith rose and swiped at him. ‘Get it, this minute!’
Rollo’s mouth tried to smile. ‘I flushed it down the toilet!’
A lie?
Edith shrieked and set about the boy, kicking and pummelling him. ‘You couldn’t have been so stupid! Oh, if … you’ve ruined everything! How could you be so dumb!’
‘Stop it! Edith! Control yourself!’ Mona tried to get herself between her sister and the boy, and was backhanded away.
Bea didn’t know what to do. She glanced at the window to see if Hari would now come in, but didn’t spot any movement out there. Night had covered the garden with shadow.
Edith had the boy on the ground. She kicked him. ‘I always said you ought to have been aborted …!’
‘Edith! Please!’ Mona helped the boy up, guiding him to a chair, keeping her own body between him and Edith. ‘It’s all right, Rollo. You did the right thing.’
Edith yelled, ‘It’s very far from all right! That idiot has ruined everything!’
Mona said, ‘Suppose you tell me what he’s supposed to have done.’
When thieves fall out, good men come into their own.
Bea made herself small in her chair, hoping she’d now learn exactly what had been going on, and who had been involved.
Edith was breathing hard, fists clenched, eyes sparking anger. ‘We set it all up so carefully: the party, the invitations! Everything had to be arranged in haste, but we managed it and got them both here and we got the evidence which would have secured our future! And then the fuse blew!’ She turned on her sister. ‘If you’d only rewired the house as you were suppos
ed to do!’
Rollo was rubbing his ribs ‘And whose f-fault was it she had to spend the money she’d saved for the electrician, in order to bail Venetia out …!’
Edith backhanded him. He ducked, but she connected, all right. Edith tore the table lamp out of its socket, and threw it against a picture on the far wall. The glass shattered and showered fragments around, but Edith was not to be stopped. ‘And then they escaped, and how they did it I don’t know! You weren’t around or I might have thought it was you helping them, but they got out before we could take the photographs! But all wasn’t lost because we had the evidence to put Leon away. We were going to be safe, even if my husband’s stupid plan to scupper the sale didn’t work. Words fail me!’ She threw herself back into her chair and stared into space, her fingers tap-tapping on the arms.
Explosive. Approach with care.
Mona helped Rollo into her own chair, and looked him over. ‘No great harm done.’ She looked over at Bea. ‘Do you know what my sister is talking about, Mrs Abbot?’
Bea said, ‘As far as I understand it, Lady Payne panicked when she realized that the wealthy man who had bought the house next door intended to cut a doorway through the wall into my garden. She panicked because she knew that, apart from the dogs, a man’s body had been buried under the party wall and its protective shroud of ivy. She must have prayed that he would miss the human bones. But when the wall fell, it disturbed the pillared supports which had been put in to strengthen it and, as they shifted in the ground, the bones were brought to the surface.
‘At that point she was confronted by a problem, which was how to stave off recognition of the body. And, if that failed, how to ensure the continuance of her comfortable lifestyle? Only recently you, Mona, had sacrificed some necessary work on the house in order to bail the family out of trouble. The house was beginning to look shabby. The Admiral was retired and should have a decent pension, but I suspect he may be as much of a spendthrift as his brother-in-law, Magnus Barwell, had been. Perhaps the Admiral gambles, as his great-nephew Gideon does? Or crashes other people’s cars, like his granddaughter?’
False Wall Page 21
