True Love Ways (13 page)

“And about stealing money from church funds?”

“Yes, that too.”

“But he stood by me,” said Clarice, “because he's a
good man. He loves me, don't you, Peter?”

“Yes. It's the worst thing I've ever had to do. Love
you. I don't expect you to understand, Meredith. But she's sick.”

“And that justifies turning a blind eye to murder?”
Meredith looked at him aghast. She had looked up to Peter Mortimer, but now she
despised him for his weakness. “You're a man of God, Peter, and killing another
is the ultimate sin. How can you even begin to ignore what she's done?”

“As I said, I don't expect you to understand.”

“So you're going to let Edith die. That's assuming
she's still alive.” Meredith hoped that Edith had been drugged with a glass of
milk, just as Clarice planned with Peter. If so, there might still be time to
save her life. “And presumably you're going to let her kill me so I don't tell
anyone. Where is it going to end?”

“It's going to end with this glass of milk,” he
said.

“That's the coward's way out!” Meredith snapped. “For
God's sake man, look at what she's brought you to.”

“She hasn't done it, Meredith. It was my choice. One
I made last Saturday when she told me.”

All the time he was speaking, Clarice looked on
triumphantly.

Meredith thought she heard a noise outside, but put
it down to wishful thinking. There was no-one around at this time of night. She
knew she had to keep talking, to give Drew time to arrive. Then they might at
least be able to manage Clarice together until the police could be called.
“Why, Clarice? Your mother, for a start. Why kill her?”

“She ruined my life,” said Clarice. “I had a father
who adored me. He would do anything for me. And she got an attack of guilt and
told him that he wasn't my father. That old fool Trefusis was.”

“I don't believe you. Oh I believe you killed her
after she told the truth. But that wasn't the reason. Patterson wasn't a rich
man, was he?”

“Oh very clever, Meredith,” said Clarice, her lip
curling. It made her look ugly. “Very well, if you must. I deserve to have nice
things. I'm beautiful. Everyone says so. And she hooked herself up to a bank
clerk when my real father had thousands in the bank. Daddy … Albert Patterson …
knew I'd done it, but he loved me enough to sacrifice his life for me.”

“But you've married a vicar. They don't earn much
more.”

“I am capable of love, you know. Besides, vicars get
other perks.”

Or, thought Meredith, maybe you're just getting too
old to hook a richer man. “Like the collection box, and roof funds?”

“Exactly.”

“What about Trefusis? I suppose you told him you
were his daughter.”

“Nope, I just played on an old man's vanity. Oh
nothing untoward. I'm not into incest. But it's amazing what a man is willing
to give away to a pretty young thing who hangs on his every word.  He left me
in his entire fortune.”

“Twenty thousand pounds. But it's all gone, I
suppose.”

“I like to live well. And I would have been good
after that, except that idiot Turner recognised me. I saw him looking at me in
the carriage.”

“So when Jimmy left his knife on the table in the
buffet car, you picked it up. I suppose when you went to fetch Edith a cup of
tea.”

“That's correct,” said Clarice. “It was very clever
of me.”

“But Turner had no proof you killed your mother. Why
bother killing him?”

“Because mud sticks. If he'd gone around spouting
that rubbish to anyone who would listen, everyone would have suspected me. Then
out in the corridor, I heard him talking about Trefusis's death. He wasn't
specific, but I knew the details. I told Peter what I'd done that night. I'd
always promised to be honest with him.”

“And you were sure enough of him to know he wouldn't
go to the police.”

“He wouldn't and he won't. He loves me. Then Edith
found that letter. It's from an old friend in India, who heard I'd moved here.
The blasted idiot.”

“So you're just going to go on killing? Until anyone
who can identify you is dead.”

“I don't want to do it, but I have no choice. People
just keep spoiling things for me. We were happy, weren’t we, darling?” Clarice
turned to Peter. “Until that gossiping old policeman opened his big mouth.”

“If you leave here tonight, and they find three dead
bodies in the morning, do you really think that no one will ask questions?”

“You're not that clever after all, are you,
Meredith? What do you think the fireworks were for? It's a real tragedy. One accidentally
went off in the vicarage, setting fire to it. You ran in to see if you could
help, but were caught in the flames. There's only one survivor. She has to move
away to escape her feelings of guilt.”

“Don't you love Peter, Clarice?”

Clarice wavered a little. “Of course I love him, but
he's already on his way to not loving me anymore. I can see it in his eyes. I'd
rather him die now, still loving me.”

“It isn't going to work, Clarice. My aunt knows I
suspect you. She won't let my death go unpunished.”

“That foolish old woman, with her prattling and
pretending to be senile. She didn't even realise I'd pushed her down the
stairs.”

“She did. Perhaps she didn't know it was you, but
she knew she'd been pushed. Drew will work it out too.” At the mention of
Drew's name, Meredith's voice trembled. She prayed that he would get there
soon. She was not sure how much longer she could keep Clarice talking. “He's
neither old nor foolish.”

“Ah, young love. It's a wonderful thing. He's not coming,
Meredith. He came back here on his way to the hospital and I told him that we'd
had a call to say that Bert had been taken to Hereford.”

Meredith wasn't sure if Clarice spoke the truth or
not. Why would Drew have called back at the vicarage? “Did he, Peter?” she
asked.

“Yes,” said Peter. “I'm afraid so. He needed money
for the late train, and hadn't taken any with him.”

Trying hard not to burst into tears, Meredith held
her chin up. It had been just over half an hour since she saw Drew. Hereford
was an hour and a half away. He would still be on his way to the hospital and it
would be at least two and a half hours before he returned. She spun around and
tried to make a run for it, but Clarice caught her by the hair and dragged her
back. “No, you don't!” Clarice's strength was surprising. Despite Meredith's
best efforts, she could not break free. She was dragged to the sofa, and thrown
onto it, jarring her elbow as she fell forward. Clarice pulled the scarf from
around her neck, after which, she tied Meredith's hands.

“You're going to drink milk, like Peter,” said
Clarice. “Then you won't feel a thing, I promise. Now stop struggling, you
silly girl and ...”

The drawing room was flooded with light, and a voice
said, “Let the young lady go.” From her awkward position, pushed face first
into the sofa, Meredith was able to turn her head only slightly but it was
enough to see several policeman standing by. They rushed forward and grabbed
Clarice by the arms. She fought them like a tigress, but they eventually overpowered
her. Meanwhile, Meredith felt strong hands undo her bonds.

“Meredith, darling!” It was Drew. When she was
upright, she threw her arms around his neck, and held him tight, feeling as
though she had just stepped off a boat after a week on a stormy sea.

“I thought you were in Hereford,” she said.

“That's what I hoped she would think,” he said. “But
I'm not as stupid as Clarice thinks. I went to the cottage hospital first, and
Bert was there. He's fine by the way. As soon as I knew that, I rushed back
here. I happened to meet these policemen outside.”

“We were here to tell the vicar we'd found his car,”
said one of the officers. “And that it had been used to run down the young
man.”

“Edith!” cried Meredith. “I almost forgot. She's
upstairs. I think she's been drugged.”

“It's alright, Miss,” said the officer. “We heard
all that. Someone is up there with her now. The lady is unconscious, but we're
bringing an ambulance. Sorry we didn't rush in sooner, but … well, you seemed
to be doing very well at getting a confession out of Mrs. Mortimer. We didn't
like to interrupt.”

“You were wonderful,” said Drew.

“Peter,” said Clarice, who had become calmer again.
“Peter, you know I only confessed to save you, darling. Tell them the truth.
About how you heard Turner's story and thought he was talking about me, even
though I told him later he was being silly. So you stabbed him, didn't you,
Peter?  To protect me. Tell them. And the money from the church fund. You took
it to keep me happy, didn't you, darling? Not that he had to. I told him that,
officer.”

“Is any of what she says true, Reverend?” asked the
officer.

Peter Mortimer appeared to think about it for a
while, and it was as if time stood still whilst everyone awaited his answer. He
finally shook his head. “No. None of it. She killed her mother. She killed
Colonel Trefusis. Then last Saturday on the train, she killed Mr Turner, and
stole the money.”

“Peter! Peter, how could you? They'll hang me for
your crime. Do you really want that? Peter!” Clarice's voice rose to a screech,
as the police took her away.

Chapter Ten

Peg and Meredith took a walk around the garden. “It
is nice to be up and about again,” said Peg. “These weeks have flown by.”

“Yes,” said Meredith, thoughtfully.

“No word from Reverend Drew today.”

“He telephoned last night. He's tried to keep me
informed, but you can imagine the ructions Reverend Mortimer has caused in the
Church of England. They're telling the newspapers that he had a total nervous
breakdown. It's the only way to explain his behaviour.”

“Poor man...”

“Do you think so?” asked Meredith. “I don't know,
Aunty Peg. I understand that one can be so much in love with someone, you want
to protect them. But she'd have gone on killing and he would have done nothing
to stop her.”

“Oh but he couldn't have darling, even if he'd
tried. Clarice believed that the moon and stars were put in place just for her.
And she made others believe it too. She … well … I suppose she played God.
Peter Mortimer fell so much in love with her, that he forgot his true God. The
one he had been ordained to serve.”

“Yes, I suppose so. Look, there's Bert.”

Bert ambled across the road, and stood on the other
side of the hedge. “Miss Bradbourne … Meredith … I’ve come to let you know that
Mr. Somerville up at Bedlington Hall has offered me a job as his assistant in
the woodwork department. I can live on site too. My own little flat above the
garage.”

“That is wonderful news, Bert. Well done!”

“He says he'll sponsor me to get some proper
qualifications. Become a real teacher, like.”

“Excellent!” Meredith smiled, genuinely happy for
Bert.

“It's amazing, isn't it? He just turned up at the
hospital and offered me a job. Just like that.”

“Stranger things happen at sea,” said Peg,
mysteriously. Meredith saw her aunt look across the road. Betty and Jimmy were
walking along hand in hand.

“I'd better go,” said Bert, when he noticed them.

“Hey, Bert, mate,” said Jimmy. He and Betty crossed
the road to their friend. “Don't rush off. Look, we're okay, aren't we?” Jimmy
held out his hand. “Because good mates are hard to come by. Betty explained to
me how it was. How you took care of her, when I couldn't. I owe you for that.
Besides, none of us have got family, except each other, and our baby's going to
need an uncle he can trust.”