Veil of Darkness (22 page)

His unhappy fingers felt the dark stubble on his chin and his hunted eyes stared round him. He was not inhuman. He had not meant to kill her, so why did everyone hate him? God knows the inside of his head. God must be on his side.

At daybreak he was well on his way, and signposts to Burleston Cove gave him hope. The sooner all this was behind him the better. Avril could give him the alibi he needed. Avril could tell them he had been with her. He had always managed to manipulate Avril and nothing had changed since then, had it? Poor, childish, timid little cow.

The road, no longer climbing, led into a broad driveway fringed with high rhododendrons. Mainly in darkness, save for the few odd glimmering lights, the building itself rose up to his left, and Graham took the sandy track to the beach where he planned to wait and get some kip until morning.

Little irritations become large annoyances.

Avril is not one for spiteful thoughts, but Bernie and Dominic are so selfish. In the hard put-you-up in the dressing room she wakes to the bleeping of the bedside phone and thumps and squeals from the four-poster bed that Bernie and Dominic have taken over.

She picks up the phone. ‘Avril! Avril! Is that you?’

Oh no, not Mother. Not now.

For one blissful moment she had forgotten about the hideous row she and Mother had had last night; not just she and Mother, but she and Ed had finished up not speaking. Avril walked home with Kirsty. Ed, for whom Avril had such hopes, has turned out to be a disloyal cad and as elderly in his thinking as Mother.

So her heart takes a plunge as reality dawns. And it plunges further when she hears the news. ‘Fluffy has gone missing!’

‘Oh no!’ And the very worst thing of all is the surge of guilt, because in all the confusion of yesterday evening she never gave poor Fluffy a thought. She hadn’t even asked after her; she had failed Fluffy by not even bothering to go into the caravan to search her out. Fluffy must have known that Avril was there, and perhaps she tried to struggle out of bed, mewing hopelessly.

‘Your father let her out before we settled down to bed and Fluffy never came back. We haven’t had a wink of sleep, searching round and calling for her, because this is alien territory for Fluffy and she’s probably lost somewhere and frightened. She’s already missed one lot of tablets.’

‘I’ll be over right away,’ says Avril, climbing out of her rosebud pyjamas.

She would have to walk, of course, because nothing would induce her to ask the despicable Ed for a lift, and Candice Love, with her black Saab convertible she had driven down from London, doesn’t get up until gone ten.

There’s no point in disturbing Bernie to tell her where she’s going. Avril has done her duty as supporter and companion, and now, more and more, she is left out of discussions and meetings and replaced by Dominic Coates. Mostly she feels like a spare part. Bernie is in her element and Dominic makes the perfect escort, suave as he is, at ease in the very best of company, protective and romantic. As Candice Love said yesterday, ‘Dominic adds that particular
frisson
that was needed to make it a perfect partnership.’

Avril is surprised to be accosted by a man in the revolving doorway of the foyer. ‘May I ask where you’re going, miss?’

‘Yes,’ says Avril, ever eager to oblige, ‘my cat is missing and I’m going to look for it.’

‘Can I take your name, please?’ And he produces a list and ticks her off.

‘Does this mean you will be remaining in the Burleston hotel grounds this morning?’

‘No,’ says Avril, still too submissive to think of asking what this is about. She does notice that there are more people than normal hanging around the reception area at this early hour of the day, strangers, people not in holiday mode. When she looks outside she sees two police cars with uniformed policemen on walkie talkies. But she waits politely until she is told. ‘I am going to the Happy Stay caravan park where my parents are staying.’

‘Then I’m sorry, miss, I will have to ask you to change your plans and stay in the vicinity for the rest of today. A man has been found dead on the golf course and unfortunately it looks as if the death is not a natural one.’

‘But what about poor Fluffy?’ Avril is almost in tears, talk of death on the golf course is really the final straw. Who could it be? Some old, ailing guest having an early morning putt?

‘I can’t help you there I’m afraid, miss, I have my orders.’

‘What do you mean by not natural? Has there been an accident?’

The brown-suited man lowers his eyebrows as if they are in mourning. ‘It looks as if somebody else might be involved.’

‘Who?’

The policeman smiles patiently. ‘If you could make sure you stay around so we can ask you questions if we need to, we would be grateful, Miss Stott.’

‘Avril, can I have a word,’ says Mr Derek, gesticulating.

‘
With me
?’

‘Just for a moment. Step into my office, would you?’

So Avril, perplexed, steps inside.

‘Sit down, Avril.’ This is a very far cry from the first time she was summoned in here by Mr Derek’s fearsome call, when she was made to sit in the hardbacked chair, trembling over her shorthand. Now she sits dizzily in a round, pink, silken effort with long, sturdy arms and tasselled cushions. She feels like the Queen on her throne. She looks at her former employer with questioning dolly-blue eyes.

‘I thought I’d better tell you, Avril, I thought it might be kinder if the news came from me, but I know you and Ed Board were fairly friendly.’ Here Mr Derek clears his throat and takes a reviving sip of water. ‘So I realize it will be painful for you to know that the body they found at seven thirty this morning was that of Edward Board, our golf professional.’

She can hardly breathe. The shock is tremendous. That someone she knew so well is dead. ‘Oh no…’

But there is more… ‘and that his wife, Margaret Board, is already on her way.’

‘
His wife
?’

Mr Derek nods sympathetically. ‘I believe she is leaving the children with her mother.’

‘But I never knew Ed had a wife, or children.’

Mr Derek carries on gently. ‘Margaret Board lives in Tintagel. She preferred not to live in at the hotel; considered it too cut off for the children, I believe. Ed visited regularly, of course, and spent most of his free time there.’

‘You said Ed’s body has been found?’ Helplessly shrugging, Avril can hardly take all this in. Ridiculously Avril tries her hardest not to feel like Ed’s murderer. She couldn’t possibly have killed Ed, could she? She certainly hates him enough. But she has an alibi, the police will know that. There is a limit to what anyone, even Avril, will own up to of her own free will.

‘A vicious blow to the head, apparently. Of course the media will make a meal of it. It’s all rather ghastly and certainly not the sort of hanky panky we want going on round here.’ Mr Derek’s refined nostrils flare. ‘The police pathologist is with them now. They think Ed was searching for a lost ball.’

‘But I was with him last night. When could he have been playing golf?’

‘His body was still warm, they tell me,’ says Mr Derek queasily, ‘so we can only assume poor Ed went for an early morning practice session. He was always an early riser.’

Shamefully, Mother’s favourite expression comes instantly to mind, ‘The early bird catches the worm.’ Well, Ed caught a damn sight more than worms. He probably had dew on his moustache, that ugly red scrubbing brush seemed to catch any available liquid, and Avril finds herself oddly unaffected by the thought of Ed’s violent demise. She is far more concerned about Fluffy the cat.

Avril hurries back upstairs to tell Bernie and Dominic the news. Thank God they are no longer bonking, but Bernie is padding around drinking coffee in her new sea-grey negligee and Dominic looks like a male model, tucking into a princely breakfast of smoked salmon and scrambled egg.

The dramatic news hardly concerns them, they are so engrossed in each other. The fact that Ed was important to Avril seems to have slipped Bernie’s mind, which is hurtful. Bernie has no knowledge of Avril’s upsetting experience last night; as far as she knows Avril must be heartbroken.

‘He was always a bit of a nerd,’ she says unkindly, gliding towards the window to see if she can spot any drama, but you can’t quite see the golf course from their room. ‘He wanted you for your money, that’s all. It’s better that he’s out of the way. Avril, you’ll get over him.’

‘But Ed could have been murdered! Dammit!’ says Avril, infuriated by Bernie’s cold condescension. ‘A man is dead, there’s a murderer on the loose!’

‘Probably some tramp—’

‘Since when have you seen a tramp around here?’

‘Well, I don’t know, Avril, do I?’ sighs Bernie, the silken drape of her sleeves hanging like moon-struck moths’ wings. ‘As long as the publicity doesn’t push us out of the limelight. Does Candice know yet?’

What is the point? ‘I really haven’t a clue. To be honest that thought never crossed my mind.’

‘Perhaps I ought to give her a ring. She might think we ought to get out of here. She’s been talking about moving for days; she says London would be more convenient.’ And then Bernie turns round quickly and glares hard at Avril. ‘I hope you’re not going to be involved in this mess,’ she says coldly. ‘Holy Mary Mother of God, you playing the victim, mourning your lover, playing up to the cameras, I can just see that.’

This is intolerable. ‘Don’t be so hateful!’ Avril is tempted to slap Bernie’s face. ‘Ed is married! There was never anything serious between Ed and me. And why would I want to hog your limelight? We’re on the same side, remember!’

And the true reason why Avril rushed upstairs to find her friend seems quite ludicrous now. Bernie just isn’t interested. Bernie has left her and Kirsty behind. Bernie wouldn’t give a damn, let alone hold out a comforting arm, over poor Fluffy the cat.

Just one hour later…

‘Have you a brother, Miss Stott?’

What’s this? Avril has to pause before she answers, she hasn’t seen Graham in years. ‘Well, yes…’

‘And has he been living down here with you since the middle of last month?’

‘Living with me?’ What does this mean? Avril shakes her head. ‘No, of course he hasn’t been living with me.’

This frowning policeman, keen-featured, cleanshaven and well-tailored, and the younger man at his side are obviously trying to tell Avril something. But what? What?

The first man shakes his head and smiles sadly. ‘And I have to ask you this, Avril. Soon after you arrived here, a couple of hotel guests, the Misses Peg and Vi Lewis, lost a rather important bracelet.’

Avril nods, feeling her hands begin to sweat. She recognizes interrogation when she sees it; it was a feature of her youth.

The man’s eyes flash and his voice rises slightly. ‘I believe you had access to the keys of the Miss Lewises’ room at that time?’

‘I worked on the reception desk. Yes, I did have access.’ Access seems such a law-laden word.

‘And when Mrs Stokes called a meeting of the staff, I believe it was you who advised the manageress to go and have a look in the Miss Lewises’ room.’

Avril can hardly remember. ‘Yes, well, that did seem quite an obvious thing to do. They were old, they did tend to get things muddled.’

‘And lo and behold, when Mrs Stokes did go to look, she found the bracelet there in the dressing-table drawer.’

Avril gasps, panic-struck, as the awful truth hits her. ‘You’re saying I took it, aren’t you?’ The colour drains from her face.

‘We are merely asking you, Avril. Mrs Stokes has mentioned that you looked very uneasy when she first mentioned the missing piece. And you had the wherewithal to replace the bracelet; you would see when the Miss Lewises went out.’

‘This is unbelievable!’ cries Avril.

‘The Miss Lewises departed from the hotel insisting that they had not been mistaken. They are certain that bracelet went missing.’

‘The Miss Lewises are vicious, small-minded snobs who love to cause trouble and would never admit they were wrong,’ says Avril indignantly, struggling now to keep her cool. This is all so unfair. ‘And what has this got to do with my brother?’

The policeman crosses his legs and leans back in Mr Derek’s swivel chair. ‘You wouldn’t have taken the bracelet with a view to passing it on to him, would you, by any chance, Avril?’

‘I have never stolen anything in my entire life,’ Avril declares, clenching her fists and banging them down on Mr Derek’s office table. ‘Just because my brother’s a crook doesn’t mean to say I’m like him.’

The tick tick tick of Mr Derek’s onyx carriage clock is the only sane sound in the room.

‘Just one more thing,’ says the policeman, watching Avril narrowly. ‘I believe you purchased some items recently from Mr Edward Board’s shop?’

She can’t cope with this. ‘Well, yes, I did.’

‘Have you, by any chance, got the receipts?’ His is a strangely quiet politeness.

So disordered are Avril’s thoughts that her brain goes
bumping round like a waltzer. ‘I haven’t got any receipts because Ed told me I could take the items and pay him when I got my own money.’

‘And where are these items now?’ asks the smart detective with studied carelessness.

‘They are in my wardrobe, in my room.’

‘At the bottom of your wardrobe, Avril? Would you say they were hidden away at the bottom?’

Avril sinks back, defeated. Menace! Menace is everywhere. Some little imp still living inside her shouts, ‘Admit it, Avril, admit it!’ But no, no, she won’t, she’s not that hopeless fat girl any more. ‘Stop bullying me like this!
Stop it
!
Stop it
! They are scrunched up in a bag at the bottom because I was too embarrassed to get them out and hang them up. I was afraid of what Bernie would say if she saw them because they make me look fatter than ever.’

‘I see. I see. I quite understand,’ says the detective slightly more pleasantly, as if there was never ill-feeling between them. ‘Please don’t be too upset. We have to ask these questions, I’m afraid, in an enquiry such as this. You see, the main problem is that we found your brother a little while earlier hiding out in the grounds, and he swore blind that he’d been living here with you.’