LS 13 - Murder in a Different Place (2 page)

Chapter Two

‘It’s such a gorgeous place,’ said Libby, leaning back in her deck chair. ‘Pity we had to come here for a funeral.’

‘Pity old Matthew had to die,’ said her friend Peter reprovingly.

‘Yes, of course. What I meant was –’

‘It would have been better if we’d come here for a nicer reason,’ Ben replied for her.

‘Thanks, Ben, I would have managed that on my own.’ Libby looked over the shaded deck towards a figure standing at the edge looking out to sea. ‘What’s up with Harry?’

‘Are you being deliberately insensitive today or what?’ said Peter, standing up. ‘What do you
think’s
wrong with him?’

Libby looked towards Ben. ‘I am being a bit stupid, aren’t I?’

‘Yes, darling, you are.’ Ben patted her hand.

‘Sorry, Pete.’ Libby made a face. ‘I didn’t realise Matthew was a journalist at the time he introduced you two.’

‘He was a fairly influential editor by that time,’ said Peter.

‘And he came from the Isle of Wight,’ said Ben. ‘I never knew that, either. Although I didn’t know him as well as you did.’

‘I love his cousins,’ said Libby. ‘Priceless, all of them.’

‘And obviously very close,’ said Peter, casting an anxious glance at Harry, who still stood surveying the sea. ‘They’re coming down here for tea, you said?’

‘So they said yesterday.’ Libby stood up and peered up towards the house at the top of the cliff. ‘It’s a bit of a climb for them.’

‘They must be used to it. Didn’t one of them say they had a beach house down here as well?’

‘They used to.’ Libby frowned. ‘It seemed to be a subject to be avoided, though.’

Harry turned away from the sea.

‘He loved his cousins,’ he said. ‘They were brought up together, apparently, in the big house.’

‘The big house?’ repeated Peter.

‘It used to stand up there.’ Harry pointed. ‘It was called Overcliffe Castle. A folly, really.’

The other three looked at him in surprise.

‘How do you know?’ said Peter, eventually.

Harry shrugged. ‘Matthew told me. Told me all about the cousins.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me when we were organising the trip?’ Peter was frowning now.

‘Well, it wasn’t as if I actually knew the cousins, was it?’ He turned back to his contemplation of the sea.

The other three looked at each other.

‘He’s been more affected by it than we have,’ said Libby. ‘He must have known him much better than we did.’

Peter nodded. ‘He did. I think Matthew looked out for him when he was in London, and I know they kept in touch after Harry moved down to Steeple Martin with me. He was a lovely old boy.’

‘So Harry’s lost a sort of father figure?’ said Ben.

‘I think so. It’s so unlike him to be this … I can’t think of the word.’ Peter shook his head.

‘Reserved. Buttoned up. Down.’ Libby sighed. ‘All those things. And he got worse at the reception.’

‘Wake, dear, wake,’ said Peter. ‘It wasn’t a wedding.’

‘Well, it’s a shame. Poor Matthew dying, and now Harry’s upset. Perhaps we shouldn’t have come.’

Ben cocked his head on one side. ‘Now, why do you say that? You know you were as intrigued as we all were when we got the invitation.’

‘Well, that’s just it,’ said Libby uncomfortably. ‘Why on earth did these women invite us out of the blue? We hadn’t been in touch with Matthew for years. At least I hadn’t.’

‘Only Harry had, I think,’ said Peter. ‘And you couldn’t wait to find out why we were invited, admit it.’

‘I know,’ admitted Libby reluctantly, ‘but now, however beautiful the island is, and however lovely Overcliffe is, I think it might have been a mistake.’

‘Well, don’t say it in front of them,’ said Harry, suddenly appearing beside her, as a clatter of stones on the wooden steps announced the arrival of three ladies looking remarkably like characters from an Agatha Christie novel, complete with long strings of beads hanging over their long floral frocks.

‘Hoo hoo!’ said the first one. ‘Here we are at last! Come on Honoria, sit over there. Amelia, you can go next to Libby – Harry, dear boy, sit next to me.’

‘Do stop organising us, Alicia,’ said the one referred to as Honoria, in a deep, thundery rumble. ‘We’re not in the classroom now.’

‘No, dear, I know,’ said Alicia, ‘but I’m sure these good people have been wondering why we asked them to Matthew’s funeral in the first place. And I want to get on with it.’

‘We all liked Matthew,’ said Libby, unsure what she was expected to say.

‘Yes, dear, we know. He used to tell us all about the plays and pantomimes you put on in Kent, and he was terribly excited about your lovely theatre. He came to the opening, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, he did, although that was rather overshadowed –’

‘By a murder. Yes, we know.’ The third member of the trio, Amelia, spoke in a soft, fluttery voice that Libby was certain contained a hint of steel.

‘Um.’ Harry’s voice, unnaturally hesitant, broke in. ‘I hope I’m not going to upset anyone, but Matthew always spoke about four of you.’ He looked questioningly at the three sisters.

They all nodded.

‘Go on, dear,’ said Amelia.

‘That’s just it, you see,’ said Alicia. ‘Celia was our youngest sister. And we think she was murdered.’

There was a moment of shocked silence. Libby thought Honoria was going to burst out with something, but she changed her mind and kept quiet.

Then Alicia spoke again, ‘It’s hard to know where to begin.’ She sighed. ‘But Celia was always the one of us closest to Matthew.’

‘Why is that relevant?’ asked Libby softly, when Alicia seemed unable to go on.

‘Because we’re sure it had something to do with him,’ said Amelia, the harsh note of steel now stronger in her voice.

‘And she never would have gone to the Beach House otherwise,’ added Honoria.

Now thoroughly confused, Libby looked from one to the other of the sisters and frowned. ‘You’re not making this at all clear. Why the Beach House? And why Matthew?’

Alicia sighed again.

‘When we were children, Celia and Matthew were the youngest and closest in age. We know he used to confide in her, and she probably shared things with him she didn’t share with us.’ She glanced at her sisters. ‘Some of us were disapproving.’

Amelia snorted.

‘Anyway, his parents owned the Beach House –’ she gestured vaguely ‘– and Matthew used to go there on his own. We thought it was when he was worried about something. We know he went there if he was in trouble.’

‘What sort of trouble?’ asked Peter.

‘Boys,’ said Honoria. ‘Opened all the lobster pots. Tipped over a tray of crabs. That sort of thing.’

‘And Celia used to go with him,’ said Amelia, with a sniff. ‘He never asked us.’

‘Well, we were older, dear, weren’t we?’ said Alicia gently.

‘When he came back to the island to live,’ continued Honoria, ‘he started going down there again. He’d built that lovely place up there,’ she pointed to the cliff top, ‘near our house, but he still used to go down there, even though it was practically falling down.’

‘He said he ought to do it up, it would be perfect for holiday makers.’ Alicia shook her head. ‘But of course, it wouldn’t.’

‘Why was that?’ asked Ben.

‘Because that’s where Celia was killed,’ said Alicia.

‘Drowned,’ said Amelia.

‘In the storm,’ finished Honoria.

‘How awful!’ Libby was aghast.

‘And she wouldn’t have gone there if it wasn’t for Matthew,’ said Amelia.

‘Did she tell you she was going?’ Peter looked intently at Amelia, who looked away.

‘No,’ said Honoria. ‘We were all too busy looking after Matthew. He’d collapsed, you see.’

‘I’d better tell you about that day,’ said Alicia. ‘It’s beginning to sound muddled even to me. It was a horribly windy day and there was a storm warning. Matthew had seemed very frail over the last few weeks, and when the wind began to get quite violent, I decided to go over to see that he was all right.’

‘Told us not to come,’ said Honoria.

‘You were out in the garden anyway, and Celia … well, Celia had gone out.’ Alicia shook her head. ‘But when I got there, I found Matthew collapsed on the floor by the French windows.’ She paused, no doubt seeing the scene all over again. ‘So I dialled 999 and called the girls over on my mobile phone. Lucky I had one, really, because I had to stay on the line with the operator until the paramedics got here. Well, you know how difficult this place is to get to.’

‘Thank goodness Matthew’s house is at the top of the cove near the road,’ said Ben.

‘Yes, and it was a good job we called then rather than later, because once the storm really hit the Island the poor emergency services were overwhelmed.’

‘So, was it a heart attack?’ asked Peter.

‘Yes – the first. Second one killed him,’ said Amelia.

‘I went with him in the ambulance,’ said Alicia, ‘and then the girls realised that Celia still hadn’t come back.’

‘We knew she had popped out for something,,’ said Honoria, ‘but the car was still there.’

‘Only one between us.’ Amelia shook her head. ‘Stupid idea.’

‘So we tried her mobile phone, we all have one of those,’ continued Honoria with a grim look at Amelia, ‘but she didn’t answer. Couldn’t have gone for a walk, not in that weather, and we didn’t know what to do. Police won’t look for someone who’s only been missing for half an hour.’

‘And then the storm broke. We battened down the hatches and watched.’ Amelia’s voice lost its hard edge. ‘And we watched our lovely cove battered and flooded.’

‘Including the Beach House?’ asked Libby softly.

The three sisters nodded with tears in their eyes.

‘Tea,’ said Harry suddenly, and Libby jumped. It was the first they’d heard from Harry since the story began.

‘God, yes! You came for tea! I’ll put the kettle on. Boys, will you carry out the cakes?’

Alicia gave a trembly laugh. ‘You call them boys, the same as we call each other the girls.’

Libby smiled and patted her on the shoulder. ‘Well, they never grow up, do they?’

When tea had been provided and cake shared, the sisters had recovered their equilibrium.

‘Can you tell us what happened after the storm?’ said Libby.

Alicia put down her cup. ‘Of course, the telephone lines were down, the mobile signals were lost and I was stuck in the hospital at Newport. They wanted to transfer Matthew to the mainland, but the weather was too bad. The ferries were all cancelled and the helicopter couldn’t fly.’

‘And we were stuck in the house,’ said Honoria. ‘It was one of the worst times of our lives. We tried to eat although we couldn’t, the power went off, and we couldn’t sleep.’

‘Especially with all the noise going on,’ said Amelia.

‘As the night went on the storm began to die down, and we both slept a little in our armchairs,’ said Honoria. ‘And when we woke up it was because my mobile phone was ringing.’

‘And that was me,’ said Alicia. ‘Matthew was hooked up to just about everything, but I couldn’t get home because someone at the hospital told me our road was blocked. So I was just letting the girls know. And then they told me Celia was missing.’

‘So then we reported it,’ said Honoria. ‘And later that day, when the clear-up of the cove started, they found her.’

They fell silent again.

‘And she’d been drowned when the cottage flooded?’ asked Peter.

‘Because she’d been knocked unconscious and left there,’ said Amelia. ‘She’d have got out if she’d been conscious.’

‘Was that proved?’ asked Libby.

‘Oh, yes.’ Amelia was scathing. ‘However incompetent our Island police are, they did at least prove that.’

‘Amelia, they are
not
incompetent.’ Alicia’s voice was sharp. ‘They did everything they could.’

‘When did you tell Matthew about Celia?’ asked Harry suddenly. They all looked at him.

‘Ah – you’re thinking that was what killed him?’ Alicia smiled at him. ‘Yes, in a way, I suppose it did, although not immediately. We couldn’t tell him until he was well enough, and there was all the business of the post-mortem so he didn’t miss the funeral – or at least, he wouldn’t have if he’d been well enough to attend – but he just seemed to be sunk in a sort of depression. He hardly spoke, he wouldn’t eat, nothing.’ She shook her head.

‘So we brought him home,’ said Honoria, ‘and put him in Celia’s room. We looked after him as much as we could, but the nurses came in, too. And then, two weeks ago, he had the second attack. He had written some letters, though. He asked the nurse to post them.’ She looked enquiringly at Harry, who shook his head.

‘How terribly sad for you all,’ said Libby after a moment.

‘I’m sorry to ask,’ said Harry, ‘but you said you thought Celia had been murdered. That sounds as though the police don’t, yet you said they’d proved she’d been knocked on the head.’

‘They think she slipped and hit her head trying to escape,’ said Alicia.

‘Rubbish,’ said Amelia.

‘But –’ began Libby, with a glance at Harry, ‘– why would you think she was murdered? Had somebody threatened her?’

‘And you said she wouldn’t have gone down there if it hadn’t been for Matthew. Don’t you know why she went? Didn’t he tell you?’ Harry was leaning forward in his chair.

All three shook their heads.

‘Does that mean nobody threatened her? Or Matthew didn’t tell you? Or both?’ asked Libby.

‘Both,’ they said together.

Libby, Peter, Ben, and Harry exchanged glances. Harry gave a slight shrug. Libby took a deep breath.

‘Then I can’t see why you think she was murdered, except that she had a bump on her head which caused her to lose consciousness and drown,’ she said.

‘It didn’t seem –’ began Alicia, but Amelia broke in.

‘Don’t beat about the bush, Alicia.’ She turned to Libby. ‘Matthew was becoming very frail and had seemed quite depressed in the last month before he collapsed.’

Amelia nodded. ‘We all asked him if anything was wrong, and he wouldn’t tell us.’

‘But we’re sure he
did
tell Celia,’ said Alicia. ‘She’d been to see him the previous evening and spent a long time over there. She was very vague about it when she got back.’