A Testament to Murder

by Vivian Conroy

  “How did Malcolm end up with Kenneth all of a sudden yesterday?” Jasper asked.

  He saw the unexpected question threw her. She blinked. “I have no idea.”

  “Kenneth was with me shortly before it happened. Then after the wheelchair fell, he turned up with Malcolm. Did you not ask him about it?”

  “No, why should I have?”

  Jasper narrowed his eyes. “I haven’t known Malcolm as long as you all have,” he said slowly. “Only since I came to live here and he just stole this villa from under my nose. He bid on the same property as I did and that’s how we got to know each other. I then bought the villa next door and the rest is history. We’ve played chess many a night and even gone out drinking together at some quite good local bars. Of course, that was all before he got ill. But my point is: I don’t know him well and still I know he is a cruel man. He has a nose for people’s weaknesses and he abuses them shamefully. Not exactly the man you want your sixteen-year-old son to meet. Why did you bring him, Mrs Jones? And why are you not more careful that he isn’t left alone with Malcolm?”

  Cecily blinked. “I’ve been married to Malcolm, Inspector. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t call you that, but…”

  Jasper gestured that she should go on.

  “I’ve been married to Malcolm,” Cecily repeated. “Once upon a time I loved him.”

  “Yes, but I don’t think you loved him when you divorced and that was more than sixteen years ago. You left him and shortly afterwards married your current husband and had your son. Huge changes.”

  “At the time Malcolm and I didn’t see eye to eye, I’ll admit that. But over time you get a softer feeling about things. I wasn’t so sure anymore he was the hateful man I remembered, and when he invited us here, it seemed rude to say no. After all, he made it very clear that this was his last request.”

  “And what about the will?” Jasper said, holding her gaze. “Did you expect to inherit?”

  “No, not at all. Not until he told us about this silly scheme he had thought up. He was like that. Is like that.”

  Jasper didn’t pounce on her mistake but asked, “And Theodora? How well did you like her?”

  “I never liked her at all. Anybody can tell you that. I had her dismissed before Malcolm married me. I felt she was too… intrusive.”

  Jasper tried to taste the meaning of the word. “She came to your house?”

  “Oh no, but she acted as if she owned the office. As if she was in charge there. She treated Malcolm and Howard like little children. She was… a busybody. I couldn’t stand her and I’ve never hidden that.”

  “Did you talk to her last night after dinner ended?”

  “No. I sat in the sitting room reading and then I went up to bed. I didn’t see her again.”

  “You didn’t meet her in the study?”

  “I had no reason to go to the study.” Cecily stood up straight. Jasper suspected she would have taken a seat if he had been on his feet walking about the room, but now that he was sitting at the piano, she felt superior standing. He didn’t mind her feeling that way, as her sense of control of the situation might make her careless. One slip of the tongue and he might have a clue he could use later on.

  Cecily said, “I take sleeping pills so if you want to know if I heard anything during the night, I can’t help you.”

  “And your husband? Has he been with you all night?”

  “I was fast asleep. I have no idea.”

  “When Theodora hinted at something she knew, last night over dinner, did you have any idea what it was?”

  “No. But as she referred to the wheelchair falling over the edge, we can all imagine what it was. She knew who pushed it.”

  “And that… shocked you?”

  “Not at all. I haven’t been anywhere near it.”

  “Then why was there a grease stain on your dress?”

  “That happened at the car. Before we went up. My husband can vouch for it; he saw it.”

  Jasper let his fingers wander across the keys again. He waited to ask the next question to make her nervous. In his experience people who were guilty or at least knew more than they let on, prepared their answers in advance, going through all the possible questions. As long as you asked what they had prepared for, they did well, but as soon as you asked something different or let them wait, they got nervous and might make a mistake.

  Cecily said, “As you got to know Malcolm a little, do you have any idea if he means it with this will? Surely he can’t. Leave everything to someone he never even liked. His nephew Hugh. That American wife of his. Or a nurse? Ridiculous.”

  “I think he means it. In fact, he mentioned it to me a while ago.” He kept his eyes on her to see how she took this revelation.

  Cecily stared at him. “You knew about it? And you didn’t try to talk him out of it?”

  “Of course. I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea. But he went on with it anyway. And I think he will keep going. That’s very dangerous, Mrs Jones. Because already one of the potential heirs is dead.” Jasper held her gaze. “Of course, as you are now part of a murder investigation, you’re not allowed to leave. But I could perhaps see if you could stay at another house. A hotel. If you would prefer it. I can imagine that you do not feel safe right now. Here.”

  He kept his eyes on her, searching for any sign of distress. Or of relief at the idea she could leave the villa?

  Cecily widened her eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving poor Malcolm. He’s dying, and now someone he knew for most of his life is dead, murdered in his study. I hope his poor body can stand the shock.”

  If not, Jasper added to himself, he might die soon. And who knows whose name might be on the will that day?

  People were incorrigible.

  In London or on the Riviera, greed was the same everywhere.

  * * *

  Anna Cane sat at her dressing table and stared into her own eyes. Without makeup she looked deathly pale. As pale perhaps as the face of the dead woman who had been carried out a while ago. Anna had given her testimony and had then asked to be excused as she felt unwell. That had not been a lie as her stomach was too small to hold any food right now.

  This was getting complicated. More complicated than she had bargained for when she had agreed to it. It was turning into madness, but still, there was no way back. She knew that without anybody else having to explain it to her. She couldn’t leave. She couldn’t cast suspicion upon herself by acting as if she was worried. She had to look cool and unconcerned, or at least as unconcerned as an innocent person who was suddenly embroiled in a murder investigation might look.

  She had no idea what would happen next, how the French police would treat this. If they were any good and would turn up something. But apart from them there was Jasper. He was ex-Scotland Yard. He was good. Without question.

  Anna stared at her image in the mirror trying to see what Jasper had seen. Just the quiet competent nurse? The helpless girl far away from home? Even the beautiful woman who would welcome an arm around her shoulder?

  She wasn’t dumb enough to throw herself at him. He wouldn’t agree to falsify statements or exchange evidence. He was too much of a policeman at heart for that.

  But she could play him in a different way, perhaps, play into his need to crack this case, a case more difficult than any he had solved before. His vanity, his pride could become his undoing.

  Anna picked up her jar of facial cream and opened it. She put some of the white substance on her fingers and began to massage it into her skin. Forehead first, then cheeks, then chin and down to her neck.

  Her skin began to prick. Perhaps she should have rinsed off sweat first? It had been hot in the room where she had been questioned.

  Her skin now burned. In the mirror she saw redness rise underneath the white haze left by the cream. Her mind swam. Her pupils dilated.

  She pushed herself up. She staggered to the door. She pulled it open. She screamed. “Somebody help me. I’m poisoned!”


  * * *

  “This is madness and it has to stop.” Hugh slapped on his knee. “First Theodora, now Anna.”

  “Anna isn’t dead yet,” Howard retorted. There was a strange tension to his voice.

  Hugh leaned over to him. “Would you like it if she died?”

  Howard scoffed. “Are you crazy? Two deaths in one day? And we still don’t know what the ruddy will says.”

  Hugh studied his expression. “If Anna dies, she can never tell what happened in that boat.”

  “Nothing happened in that boat,” Howard said. “You told me you saw something but you lied. We were together until shortly before I saw the boat drifting on the waves, already overturned. You can’t possibly have seen anything. You lied to me to suggest you knew something incriminating about Kenneth.”

  Hugh blinked. What could he say that would reinforce to Howard he did know something? He knew what Anna had told him, that Kenneth had tried to kill her. But Anna was in bed with a doctor by her side and nobody knew how serious her condition was. If she died, she could no longer support him.

  Howard said, “You lied about it, just as you lied about getting the basket out of the car with Anna. I saw Anna at the car, but you were not with her.”

  Hugh tried to laugh. “You can’t take your eyes off that little nurse, can you?”

  Howard arrested his wrist. “Where were you when the wheelchair fell over the edge? Did Theodora see you push it down the rocks? Did she try to tell Malcolm but you got to her and killed her before she could?”

  Hugh struggled to be released. “If Theodora knew something, she had ample time to tell Uncle Malcolm. After dinner. Why wait until later in the night?”

  Howard held his gaze. “Did you kill her?”

  “No! And I didn’t push the chair over the edge either. What on earth for? An empty chair? While running the risk of being seen? I’m not that dim.”

  “I wonder,” Howard said, but he did release Hugh. He paced the folly. “I think we should make a plan. To lure the killer out into the open.”

  “I don’t want any part in any plan.” Hugh crossed his arms over his chest.

  Howard halted in front of him. “Are you crazy? Think about it. Theodora is already dead. Nurse Cane could be next. Two heirs gone. If we wait any longer, we will have more dead bodies. This maniac is just killing off everybody until just he or she and Malcolm are left.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  Howard raised his arms and waved them over his head. “That former inspector who took charge told us we can’t leave. Oh, we can leave the villa, but we can’t leave the area. Not until the killer is caught. Cecily is dead set on staying here because she still thinks she can cash in. I overheard her saying so to Patty. Patty responded she is not leaving either. So what do we do? Leave our wives and just drink whiskey until we hear whether they survived this?”

  “We should, for all the trouble they’ve given us.” Hugh leaned back and closed his eyes. “Tell me, Howard, do you ever dream of just getting away? Away from your wife and your business and all of your responsibilities and just doing everything you always dreamed of?”

  “What would that be?” Howard asked.

  “I don’t know. I know what I dream of. Absolutely nothing. No nagging that I should write my book or finish a sculpture. Just nothing. Bliss.”

  Howard made a scoffing noise, but Hugh, peeping through his eyelashes, saw a look of desire on his face. Whatever Howard dreamed of, adventure, or women, or gambling in Monte Carlo, it could come true if he had the money for it. And the inheritance offered that money.

  Hugh said, “We don’t stand a chance of ever doing what we want unless we get our hands on Uncle Malcolm’s money. I think we deserve it the most. You said you could figure out whose name was in the will. We must leak that information to the person. If he or she strikes, then we get the money left.”

  “Why?” Howard asked. “Malcolm can still betray us. He was always like that.” He rubbed his face. “No, we are just doomed to sit here and wait for something even more terrible to happen.”

  Just as he spoke, there was a triumphant cry from the dock below.

  Howard and Hugh emerged from the folly and went to have a look. A policeman was showing something to his colleague, something he had found there. It was wrapped in white cloth. The two men exchanged excited French sentences as they climbed up to where Hugh and Howard were standing watching in silence. They passed.

  Hugh looked at Howard. His face was deathly pale.

  Hugh said, “That was Kenneth’s handkerchief. I saw him use it the other day.”

  Howard didn’t say anything. He stood and stared into nothing like a man who has just heard he is bankrupt. Has lost everything.

  Hugh said, “What can be in it?”

  Howard broke into movement. “Shut up, you fool. Just shut up!” He ran after the policemen to the villa.

  Hugh watched him, his mind working at top speed. The picture was forever shifting, and he wasn’t quite sure what image he was waiting for. But one thing he did know for certain: he had to act quickly and escape the noose that was being tied here.

  Someone’s throat would get caught in it, that he knew with morbid certainty.

  And all he could do about it was ensure the neck caught was not his.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Is this your pocket knife?” Jasper asked as he peeled the white cloth away from the object on the table.

  Kenneth nodded. He had looked surprised when he had been called down, but not unduly worried. He sat opposite the former inspector now with his hands folded in front of him, his expression blank.

  Jasper said, “And do you recognize the handkerchief around it as well?”

  “Yes, it’s mine. Marked with a K. My mother insists on ordering these for Christmas or my birthday. I think they are rather stupid.”

  Jasper suppressed a smile. “So you have a dozen of them?”

  “At least.”

  “Still this one is different. There’s blood on this one.” Jasper used a pencil to point out the smear.

  Kenneth nodded. “Anna hurt her hand while cutting roses. I offered her my handkerchief and she wiped her finger with it.”

  “And then?” Jasper asked, his throat tight. Had Anna Cane kept the handkerchief? “She gave it back to me.”

  Jasper almost exhaled in frustration. In a case it was wrong to be partial. But he liked this boy and he didn’t want him to be guilty. Of anything.

  “And then?” he pressed.

  “I put it back in my pocket.”

  “So how did it end up here, around this pocket knife?”

  “I don’t know.” Kenneth kept looking straight at him. “I must have lost both the knife and the handkerchief.”

  “When?” Had Anna Cane got hold of the handkerchief and the pocket knife, perhaps in the boat, to use later and throw suspicion on this boy?

  Kenneth shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  Jasper eyed him sharply. He had faced suspects who had an answer to everything and their need to explain everything away could be frustrating and suspicious. But it was unusual for someone facing the police to act so unconcerned. As if Kenneth didn’t even grasp the gravity of the situation. He seemed almost puzzled by the interest in his handkerchief and his knife.

  Jasper said, “You’re taking this very lightly. Don’t you see that this could be highly incriminating? This knife was probably used to stab Theodora Cummings to death.”

  Kenneth’s eyes widened. “But I didn’t do that. I wasn’t angry with her.”

  The latter implied he had been angry with somebody else, but Jasper let it pass for the moment. “You didn’t see her last night, meet her in the study?”

  “No, what for?”

  Jasper had to admit it was odd to imagine a boy arranging the dead body like it had been, with the dress and flower. Unless...

  He suddenly said, “Was Anna cutting roses when she hurt herself?”

  “Yes.”


  “And after that Theodora told you Anna couldn’t swim?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that was why you tried to save her while it turned out she could swim and…”

  Jasper’s stomach was full of ice. Had Kenneth stabbed Theodora and put a rose in her hand to refer to her lie that had caused the whole unfortunate boating incident? Who knew how the mind of a boy worked? Kenneth had proven himself capable of deep anger.

  Kenneth frowned at him. “I did try to save her,” he said.

  “Yes, I know that.” Jasper stared down on his hands. He wanted to speak to Anna Cane to ascertain what had happened, with her and Kenneth in the boat, with Hugh who had allegedly helped her with the lunch basket…

  But Anna Cane was in bed with a damaged face.

  He said to Kenneth, “Do you have any idea who might have taken your pocket knife and handkerchief?”

  “No, I already said that. Anybody can come into my room.” Kenneth leaned back against the chair. “Is… Anna dead?”

  Jasper held his gaze. “Someone tried to hurt her by putting something in her facial cream. We’re still trying to find out what it was.”

  Kenneth didn’t reply. He looked sad and frustrated, and Jasper wished he could just send him out to run with Red on the beach for a while.

  He said softly, “It’ll be all right, Kenneth. But I need your help. You have to tell me all you know. About everybody here in the villa. What you saw and heard from the moment you came here.”

  Kenneth shook his head. “I can’t help you.”

  “Do you know something you don’t want to tell me? Are you protecting someone? Anna perhaps?”

  “She said…” Kenneth wet his lips. “She said there was a terrible secret that she could never talk about but that was why we couldn’t be together.”

  Jasper blinked. “What?”

  “That is all I recall. She said that to me. Then we were in the water.”

  There had to be more. Information the boy had but was blocking out because it was too shocking. What could it be?

  If he really couldn’t remember, there was no point in pressuring him. Still, what Kenneth knew could be essential to the case. Anna had become a target. Was it because of the secret she had shared with Kenneth? What if whoever had attacked her found out Kenneth knew something and would come after him as well?