Motive for Murder (12 page)

A voice from the doorway said, ‘Well, darling, where's the red carpet?'

I was too numbed by the suddenness of events to do anything but stare at the woman who stood there. She was tall and thin – almost angular – and dressed very correctly in the Londoner's idea of ‘country clothes'. Her face was oval, framed by short, curly chestnut hair, and her deep set eyes were a penetrating blue.

I heard Matthew say, ‘Kate!'

She gave a light laugh. ‘The very same!'

‘Kate,' he said again, coming round from behind his desk. He went over to her, took both her hands and kissed her cheek.

‘That's a little better! And this is your new secretary, is it? How do you do?' She disengaged one of her hands from Matthew's and held it out to me.

I moved forward and took it. ‘How do you do, Mrs ...' I floundered helplessly.

‘The name is still Haig – for the moment.' Matthew cleared his throat. ‘Kate, it's wonderful to see you. Forgive me, it was such a surprise! How long can you stay?'

‘You mean when am I going back? No, don't deny it! As it happens, I'm not in any particular rush – say three or four days, if you'll have me. I felt it was time I saw my daughter again.' Her arm went casually round Sarah's neck, and the child's face glowed with pleasure. Well, now I had my family group, the three of them momentarily framed in the doorway.

A voice called, ‘Miss Kate? Is that you?' and Miss Tamworth came hurrying down the passage.

‘Hello, Tammy!' Kate stooped and kissed the withered cheek. ‘Have you been rearing my chick properly? She looks a credit to you!' And she smiled at Sarah again with careless affection.

I felt horribly in the way, but Matthew relieved me. ‘Come to the sitting-room and have a drink. Tammy'll take your cases up. Have you come straight from London? You must be exhausted.'

They moved, the three of them, still in a close circle, out of the room. I could hear them talking and Kate's laugh as they went up the hall. Only when I heard the sitting-room door close did I draw breath. Now the household was complete; the family was in the sitting-room, the secretary in the library. A nice distinction. I returned to my desk and began to type.

Mrs Johnson came to tell me when lunch was ready. I was surprised to see her, since she'd left after breakfast as usual, to spend the weekend with her daughter.

‘The mistress collected me on her way through,' she told me beamingly, not at all put out by having her weekend disrupted. ‘Doesn't want to spend her time cooking and cleaning on her visit, now does she? Ah, 'tis lovely to see her again. You mark my words, dearie, one of these days she'll be back for good. The master's a different man when she's here!'

Sourly I followed her down the passage. As we reached the main hall the telephone started to ring and Kate, who was coming out of the sitting-room with Matthew, lifted it. ‘Hello? No, this is Mrs Haig. Mike? Oh darling, how lovely!'

I stopped awkwardly, knowing the call was for me.

‘Yes, I've just arrived ... I'm not sure; it depends. Look, sweetie, when can we see you? Tonight? What – Emily? Is that her name? How quaint! Yes, she's here. I'll pass you over then. Bye, darling.'

She held out the instrument to me. ‘Let's drop the formality, shall we? You're Emily, I'm Kate.'

It was impossible to resist the brilliance of her smile. ‘Persuade Mike to come round this evening, there's an angel; I haven't seen him for ages. Is he still as handsome?'

Without waiting for my confused reply to this torrent, she linked her arm through Matthew's and went with him into the dining­ room.

‘Hello, Mike.' How flat my voice must have sounded after Kate's.

‘Hi there. Sorry I haven't been in touch. One of the cows has just calved and we had a difficult time with her. In fact, I spent two nights in the byre. Fine little bull calf, though.'

Not a word about our last encounter. Perhaps sufficient time had elapsed for it to be ignored.

‘I was going to suggest we hit some high spot tonight, but Kate's invited me round there. Is that all right with you?'

An evening sharing Mike with Kate and Matthew! How different from last night, when there had just been Matthew and me. I said hurriedly, ‘Yes, of course, that's fine.'

‘What do you think of Kate? Isn't she fabulous?'

‘Fabulous,' I echoed drily.

‘See you tonight then, about eight. ‘ 'Bye, angel.'

Thoughtfully, I replaced the receiver.

* * *

It wasn't until later that it occurred to me I wasn't the only one who might find the evening awkward. Matthew would surely rather have had Kate to himself her first evening. Things between Mike and himself were strained, and his only social contact with me had not been an unqualified success.

‘Come to the sitting-room when you're ready, Emily,' Kate said, quite naturally taking her place as mistress of the house. ‘As you'll have gathered, I've persuaded Mrs Johnson to stay this weekend. I couldn't have faced spending the evening in the kitchen!'

And Mrs Johnson, dear soul, was under the impression that she was helping bring Kate and Matthew together again. As well she might be.

‘Oh, and would you ask her to light the fire in the library passage? It's much cosier than being alone in the sitting-room when you and Matthew are working. It was always my special place, wasn't it, darling?'

So the fire was lit and remained so for the rest of Kate's stay. I was surprised at the transformation it made to the end of the passage. Kate even drew the miniature velvet curtains over the oriel windows, creating an air of warmth and friendliness in what had been merely a utilitarian passageway.

That first evening, Kate changed into a silk blouse of pale coffee and an ankle-length skirt in a deeper brown. The length of her skirt, from which her ankles emerged as bony and fragile as those of a racehorse, added to her height and slimness, and her long white neck rose gracefully from the low-necked blouse. I thought a little uncharitably that her shoulders were too thin for such a neckline – her collar­bones were almost as prominent above the clinging silk of her blouse as were her small breasts beneath it. The total effect, however, was one of gracious elegance and made me feel about twelve years old.

She held the stage that night, talking lightly and incessantly, mainly to Mike – about the plays she'd seen, the books she'd read, the articles she planned. The pattern was set before dinner, and continued both during the meal and afterwards, over coffee in the sitting-room.

Matthew and I sat throughout in comparative silence, while I watched him and he watched Kate. He hardly seemed able to drag his eyes away from her, but I couldn't read the expression in them.

And it was over coffee that I felt the first stirrings of anxiety, an awareness that all was not well. It seemed that things were spinning out of control, as though we were on some brightly-lit stage, speaking words that had been written for us and could not be changed. This, I thought fancifully, was the opening scene, introducing the characters before the play got under way and the tragedy began. Tragedy? Startled, I wondered what had brought that word so naturally to mind.

I studied the three faces more carefully. How, as a theatre director, would I gauge them? First Kate, relaxed in her chair with a glass in her hand. The firelight struck sparks in the amber depths of her hair, as I'd seen it do in her daughter's. Her laugh was brittle and gay. Was she really as much on the surface as she tried to appear, or was there something deep down that troubled her? And was it my imagination that her eyes grew wary when they flicked in Matthew's direction?

And Matthew himself; as I turned to him my uneasiness increased. The lamp behind him threw his face into shadow, but his eyes, dark and unlit, remained on his ex-wife. What was going through his mind?

Mike was also watching Kate, a smile on his face. He looked so much the same as usual, with one leg carelessly crossed high over the other, that I longed to slip over to him and take his hand.

Yet even as the thought formed, his attention suddenly focussed. Something came and went so swiftly behind his eyes that had I not been watching them in that instant, I should have missed it. I moved sharply, wondering whether the coldness in me came from a draught, or from something more sinister.

‘Found out something?' he was repeating, and his voice was idly curious, a world away from the flicker I thought I'd seen. ‘My dear Kate, how mysterious! Tell us more!'

‘I'm not sure that I shall.' Her eyes rested on Matthew, and there was a malicious gleam in them that I certainly wasn't imagining. ‘But perhaps I should admit, my love, that it wasn't only an irresistible longing to see you that brought me hotfoot to Cornwall.'

Matthew stirred. The firelight leapt across his face and receded. ‘What, then?'

‘Work; we're doing a series on old country houses in the West Country, Touchstone among them. I was asked to come down and vet them all, but first, for background, I needed to know how long they'd been in the same family, who'd been born where, and so on. So –' Her eyes moved lazily from one of us to another – ‘I went to St Catherine's House, where, I might say, I spent a most informative morning.'

‘St Catherine's House?' Matthew repeated sharply.

‘Yes; I'd no idea what a treasure-trove it would prove. I discovered all kinds of family secrets.'

There was a taut silence, and I found I was holding my breath.

Then Matthew said, ‘An ancestor was hanged for sheep-stealing?'

‘Rather more recent than that.' She sipped at her drink, no longer looking at him.

‘Exactly what are you getting at, Kate?'

She shrugged. ‘I thought I should warn you, before it comes out in print.'

‘You really intend to dig up some long-forgotten gossip and
publish
it?'

‘Why not? It's a good story. A very good story.'

Mike said lightly, ‘Do we assume, Mrs Haig, that the family honour means nothing to you?'

‘Less than nothing, darling.'

Matthew leant forward and threw his cigarette in the fire, ‘Is this an attempt at blackmail, by any chance?'

I gasped, but Kate merely raised her eyebrows.

‘Because if so,' he went on, ‘you'll be disappointed. Who do you imagine would be remotely interested in your sordid little findings?'

‘A lot of people,' Kate answered, sipping her drink, ‘believe me. However, the question of blackmail, as you so charmingly term it, doesn't arise, since I've no intention of being bought off. Really, Matthew –' her voice was mocking – ‘you're rising to my bait even better than I'd hoped.'

The menace in the room was tangible. Matthew said under his breath, ‘God damn you, Kate.'

Mike moved uneasily. ‘Come on, Kate, this has gone far enough. Did you really discover something?'

‘I did.'

‘Then take my advice and forget it.' He glanced at Matthew. ‘Or you might really stir up a hornets' nest. Your paper won't thank you if you land them in the libel courts.'

Kate's eyes swivelled to me. ‘What must Emily think of us all? Such bad form to wash the family linen in public.'

‘So far,' Matthew said with a certain acid humour, ‘you've not even opened the laundry basket.'

Kate laughed. ‘Right – a truce! What shall we talk about now?'

Mike looked up as the clock on the mantelpiece chimed eleven.

‘As far as I'm concerned, it's time for bed,' he said. ‘I have to be up at five.'

‘Is there such a time?' Kate hid a delicate yawn behind her hand. ‘We'll see you tomorrow, though, won't we? You can spare some time later to visit your long-lost cousin, or whatever?'

Mike grinned, reached down and pulled her to her feet. ‘Kate, to see you I would move mountains!' He kissed her on the mouth.

Matthew said shortly, ‘I'll see you out, then.'

Kate turned. ‘Don't be so obtuse, Matthew – let Emily! I've monopolised Mike all evening, and it was supposed to be her date. Let them at least say goodnight in private.'

Matthew said stiffly, ‘Of course.'

I felt unwelcome colour flood my face. But Mike, unabashed, winked at me and reached for my hand. ‘Well, goodnight – thanks for the meal. Anyone going down to the beach tomorrow?' His eyes included me.

I shook my head. ‘I don't think so.'

‘Oh, I shall,' Kate said. ‘I'm not going to waste a chance to sunbathe!'

Mike hesitated, and I realized his difficulty. ‘Well, we'll see how it goes. Thanks again.'

We left the room hand in hand and he closed the door behind us. The large hall was in darkness except for the huge shadows on the ceiling from the fire round the corner. Without preamble he drew me into his arms. I wished Kate hadn't made the kiss so inevitable. I didn't really feel like kissing Mike tonight. I moved a little and his lips went to my hair.

‘That was one hell of an evening.'

‘Yes.'

‘Oh Emily, it's been a long week.'

‘Only four days, actually.'

‘Only?'

‘A very long four days,' I amended. Made even longer by what had happened in the interim. Could Matthew kiss as tenderly as this? I wondered involuntarily, and my heart jerked like an exposed nerve.

Mike raised his head. ‘What is it?'

‘Nothing, nothing!' Gently I extricated myself.

‘Goodnight, Mike,' I said, with an unsteady smile.

‘Goodnight, sweetheart. See you tomorrow.' He lifted my fingers to his lips and kissed them gently. Then he opened the front door and was gone.

I paused uncertainly outside the sitting-room door. There was complete silence inside. With clenched fists stiffly at my side, I marched up the stairs to bed.

I had my breakfast upstairs the next morning, despite its being Sunday, since Mrs Johnson was with us. When she brought my tray, she passed on the message that Matthew would be in the library at ten o'clock.