The Last Mrs. Summers Read online

  “She can learn if you are patient and help her, Tony,” Belinda said. “Look how well she did at cards tonight. She always was timid. She needs patience and encouragement.”

  “The truth is that it’s all boring as hell down here. No friends. No social life and only Rose to come back to at night,” Tony said. “As for the sex—she just lies there, like a great beached whale under me. No passion. Nothing. Not like you. My God, we had a good time together, didn’t we?”

  “We did.”

  “So how about just once more, for old time’s sake?”

  “Tony, if you think I’m going to bed with you in your own house with your wife just down the hall, you can think again. I’ve made my own mistakes in life and I do not intend to make any more. Now please go before I raise my voice and Mrs. Mannering appears.”

  “Damn that woman,” he said. “She may keep the house running but I can’t stand the way she creeps around, spying on us. She’ll have to go.”

  “And you’ll have to go too, I’m afraid. You are keeping me from my beauty sleep and if Rose comes up with her hot cocoa she’ll be mortally offended. She’ll probably blame me for luring you into my room.”

  “You’re a spoilsport, Belinda, and I’m still in love with you. How about I sell this place? We chuck it all up and go to Barbados?”

  “Sorry, Tony. As tempting as it sounds, I’m kicking you out. Go on. Leave before you do something you regret.”

  “I think you’re the one who is going to regret this.”

  “Probably, but not as much as if I let you stay.”

  I only had a moment to dive into my own room before I heard a slam and Tony came striding past my door.

  Chapter 15

  OCTOBER 17

  TREWOMA

  Oh golly. I don’t even know how to put down what has happened. I’m still in shock.

  Good old Belinda, I thought as I heard the floorboards creak as Tony walked down the hallway. She has learned her lesson and is now behaving like a sensible person. I climbed into bed and pulled the covers over me because I was cold after wearing that blue silk dress. It was a wild night. I could hear the wind moaning through the chimney and it had begun to rain, peppering the window. I snuggled down, tucking my cold feet into my nightgown and wishing someone had offered me a hot-water bottle. One more night, I thought. One more night and I can go home. And I wondered where Darcy was, what he was doing, whether he was in any kind of danger and whether he was missing me.

  I was just drifting off to sleep when something awoke me. A cry. Had the cry been in my dream? No, I was sure I had heard something. I jumped out of bed and grabbed for my robe, fumbling to put it on in a hurry. I came out of my room and saw that Belinda’s door was ajar.

  “Belinda?” I called, hurrying toward her. “Are you all right?”

  She didn’t answer me. I pushed her door open and froze. Belinda was standing there, holding a large knife in her hand. The knife and Belinda’s hand were covered in blood and her face was one of utter terror. Then I looked past her. The covers had all been tossed off her bed and were lying in a heap on her floor. Tony lay on the white undersheet, completely naked and with a large stab wound in his chest. A horrid red stain was spreading across that white sheet. His eyes were wide-open and staring in surprise and it was quite obvious that he was dead.

  “I didn’t . . .” Belinda stammered. Her eyes were also as big as saucers. “It wasn’t me. I just found him. . . .” She started sobbing.

  “It’s all right,” I said. “Calm down. And perhaps you’d better put down the knife. If he attacked you, it was self-defense.”

  “But he didn’t. I didn’t,” she wailed.

  “Then how exactly did he get into your bed?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice sounded close to breaking point. “Georgie, I swear. . . . He came into my room earlier tonight. He suggested he was getting tired of Rose and we could . . . get together again. But I told him no and he went off in a huff. I was a bit shaken up so I decided to have a lovely hot bath. When I came back everything was dark. I opened my door and I kicked something on the floor. I picked it up and it was all sticky and I turned on the light and it was this knife.” She was still holding it, staring at it in disbelief. “And then I saw him, on my bed, lying there. Dead.”

  At that moment there were hurried footsteps. “What’s going on? Is something the matter?” a voice called and Mrs. Mannering appeared at the open door, wearing a dark blue dressing gown and with her hair in curlers. She stood breathing heavily as if she had just come running. Her gaze went from Belinda’s bloody hands to the bed. She opened her mouth as if to scream, then controlled herself, pointing at Tony’s corpse, her hand shaking. “Oh dear God. You’ve killed him,” she stammered. “Poor Mr. Summers. You’ve killed him. How could you?”

  “I didn’t,” Belinda whimpered. “It wasn’t me. I found him here like this. I don’t know who did it.”

  “Where is Rose?” I asked. I stepped out into the corridor but at that moment I saw her crossing the foyer down below.

  “I can’t believe how long it took me to make cocoa,” Rose’s voice floated up the stairwell toward us as she started to come up the stairs with a mug of cocoa in her hand. “I couldn’t find the cocoa tin, then I found it in a tin marked Horlicks. Then I couldn’t get the wretched stove to light for hours. And then the blasted milk boiled over and I had to clean that up—” She broke off, as Mrs. Mannering came out of Belinda’s room. “Is something wrong? Has someone been taken ill? Is it Belinda?”

  “Let us take that mug from you, Mrs. Summers.” Mrs. Mannering stepped out to intercept Rose. “I’m afraid you’re in for a nasty shock.”

  She took the mug and handed it to me.

  “What is it? What are you saying?” Rose gave her a questioning glance, then looked toward Belinda’s open door and started forward. Mrs. Mannering restrained her, then put her arm around Rose’s shoulder. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be very brave. Your husband has been . . .”

  Rose gave a little cry, wrenched herself free and pushed past her into the room. Then she let out a horrible scream. She turned on Belinda. “You killed Tony. How could you do such an awful thing? You’re a monster. A vile monster. I’ll never forgive you. I hope you hang.”

  “But I didn’t do it.” Belinda was choking back tears. “I swear I didn’t. I came back from my bath and he was lying there.”

  “Then why is there blood on your hands?” Rose shrieked the words. “And you’re still holding the knife, for God’s sake.”

  “I didn’t realize what it was,” Belinda said. “I came into my room and it was dark and I kicked something so I bent to pick it up and it was this knife.” She seemed to realize she was still holding it and put it down hastily onto a side table. “And it was all sticky with blood. I screamed and Georgie came.”

  I was able to observe now that it was not a knife as much as one of the curved oriental daggers that had been displayed in one of the rooms downstairs.

  “Then if you didn’t kill him, who did?” Rose demanded. “Call the police, Mrs. Mannering. If she really didn’t kill him, then there is a murderer loose in this house.”

  “May I suggest that you all come out of this room,” Mrs. Mannering said calmly. “It is a crime scene now. Nobody is to touch anything. I will call the police. And I will rouse the staff to search the house and grounds.”

  I put an arm around Belinda. “You’d better come and wash your hands in my bedroom,” I said.

  “She should leave her hands as evidence,” Rose said angrily.

  “We all know what we saw, Mrs. Summers,” Mrs. Mannering replied calmly. “We all saw the blood on her hands and besides, her fingerprints will be on the knife.”

  “As well as the killer’s,” I added. “Don’t worry, Belinda. It’s going to be all right. They’ll find out who is the real murd
erer.”

  “Come with me, Mrs. Summers,” Mrs. Mannering said. “You’ve had a terrible shock. Let me put you to bed and get you a glass of brandy while we wait for the police to come.” Then she turned to me. “I think you should stay with Miss Warburton-Stoke, my lady. She should not be left alone.”

  “Come on, Belinda. Come into my room.” I put my arm around her. I could feel her whole body shaking. I led her through to my bedroom and ran the water in the washbasin until it was hot, then I held her hands under it, watching the sink spattering red as the blood washed away. All the time I was trying to calm my own racing thoughts. I wanted to believe her. I was pretty sure I did believe her, but there was still that nagging doubt at the back of my mind. Tony had come to her bedroom. He had propositioned her. I wasn’t sure how long ago that was as I had drifted off to sleep, but it couldn’t have been that long. If he had gone away in a huff, why had he come back again, taken off his clothes and gotten into her bed? And more to the point, where were his clothes? Had he run naked down the hall to her room, knowing she was in the bath, hoping to surprise her when she returned?

  And the bigger question: if she didn’t kill him, then who did? I dried her hands as if she were a little child. Then I sat her down in the armchair beside my fire.

  “I’m going down to get you a glass of brandy too,” I said. “You’re in shock.”

  “I know I’m in shock,” she said, “but don’t leave me. The killer may come back for me.”

  “I’ll be back in a jiffy,” I said. “And the servants are all being woken up.” I ran out and down the stairs. I didn’t see anyone in the drawing room as I went to the sideboard and helped myself from the drinks table. Around the house I could hear voices as servants were roused. I heard hysterical crying and Mrs. Mannering’s calm voice: “Pull yourself together, Elsie. No murderer will come after you, you can be sure of that.”

  As I went back up the stairs I spotted a footman creeping down the hallway carrying a candlestick. I made it up the stairs without running into anyone.

  “What are we going to do, Georgie?” Belinda asked, taking the glass I offered her. “Nobody will believe I’m not guilty, will they? They saw the knife in my hands.”

  “There will be other fingerprints on the knife,” I said. “They’ll find who did it. Obviously Tony had some enemies. We heard that, didn’t we? Raising all the fees?”

  “Yes, but how could an enemy get into the house? And what’s more, how did Tony get onto my bed, stark naked?”

  “Maybe he crept back to your room and wanted to surprise you when you came out of the bath. He thought he might convince you to change your mind.”

  “But does anyone walk down a long hall naked?” she asked. “Wouldn’t he at least put a robe on until he got here? He might have run into you or Mrs. Mannering, after all.”

  “Perhaps there is a robe somewhere among those bedclothes.”

  “Oh yes. That’s possible. He could have stripped off the bedclothes in a fit of impatient passion. But I made it quite clear to him, Georgie. I really did.”

  “I know,” I said. “I was coming back from the bathroom and I overheard some of it.”

  “But if anyone else overheard some of it?” Belinda said. “If anyone else spotted Tony going into my room. That creepy Mannering woman. I bet she spies on all of us. If she testifies that he crept into my room, I’m done for. She might even lie and say I invited him.”

  “Why would she do that? Did you detect any special dislike from Mrs. Mannering?”

  “Not exactly. Not the way she dislikes Rose.” She took a sip of the brandy, shuddered and said, “It’s impossible, isn’t it?”

  “Of course it is. Everything’s going to be all right.” I put a hand on her shoulder.

  Belinda covered it with her own hand. “I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d been alone. You do believe me, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do. We’ve known each other for years. I know very well when you are lying. And anyway, why would you want to kill Tony? You’ve had enough experience with men to stop his advances if you didn’t want him.”

  “But why kill him in my room? Why put him on my bed? If anyone had a grudge against Tony, why not lurk around a dark corner, stab him in the back and then creep out again? For that matter, why take the risk that you’d be caught inside the house? Why not follow him to a distant corner of the property and then escape by sea?”

  She stopped suddenly and put a hand to her mouth. “Uncle Francis!” she said. “That’s who did it. How very clever. He came to the house this afternoon on the pretense of wanting to pay his respects to Rose and see his beloved niece again, and while he was here, he had a good opportunity to scout things out. And didn’t he say he’d see himself out? I bet he never went at all. He found a disused room to hide out in until the proper time came to strike. He has killed two birds with one stone, don’t you see? Not only Tony and his mooring leases but if I’m found guilty of murder and I hang, he’ll get the money and the properties.”

  “Do you really think your uncle is capable of murder to get what he wants?”

  “Oh, absolutely; he was a young soldier in the Great War, you know. He told me how they were trained to run a bayonet through somebody and fight in close combat. He boasted about sneaking up behind a German and slitting his throat.”

  “But that was war. Lots of men had to do things that were not really part of their nature because they were commanded to.”

  “I think it might be his nature to do anything to get what he wants,” Belinda said. “My grandmother said he was a difficult child, prone to fits of temper and that he would lie smoothly to get out of trouble. Quite the opposite from my mother, who was the sweetest, gentlest person in the world.” She gave a shuddering sigh. “My father probably won’t do anything to help me. He might care but the wicked witch will tell him I’m not worth bothering with.” I heard her voice tremble.

  “Surely not, and anyway, it’s all going to be sorted out very soon,” I said. “Now drink that brandy and I’m going to tuck you up in my bed.”

  She gave me a watery smile. I smiled back, trying to seem more confident than I felt. Because in truth I did think that things looked very bleak for her and I had no idea how we would prove that she was not the murderer. Oh, Darcy, I thought, I wish you were here. You’d know what to do.

  Chapter 16

  OCTOBER 17

  TREWOMA, WHERE THE MOST UNBELIEVABLY HORRIBLE THING HAS HAPPENED. I HOPE THE POLICE CAN SORT THIS OUT. POOR BELINDA.

  A loud hammering at the front door announced the arrival of the local police constable.

  “So you’re sure you’ve got a murder here, and not just a nasty accident?” I heard him saying in his broad Cornish accent as he came up the stairs. “Or is it possible that the young gentleman took his own life?”

  “It was clearly not an accident.” This was Mrs. Mannering’s voice. “One does not run into a sharp dagger while lying on a bed. And also he could hardly have stabbed himself to death and then thrown the knife across the room. Besides, the young female guest was found still holding the knife, with blood on her hands.”

  I motioned for Belinda to stay where she was and crept out of the room to observe. Mrs. Mannering pushed Belinda’s bedroom door open for the policeman, who was a stout older man with the round, red face of a countryman and a fine head of white hair. He was holding his helmet tucked under one arm. I saw him take a deep breath before he went inside, then I heard a gasp of breath. “Oh my Lordy,” he said, quickly stepping back out into the corridor, his face ashen white to match his hair. “Poor young blighter. I’ve never in all my years seen something like this. There was Henry Blakely who fell into the threshing machine that time and that was pretty grizzly. But I’ve never seen an actual murder. In all my years on the force I’ve never seen nobody murdered. Not lying on a bed like th
at, all naked. There was that time that Tommy Hicks fell down the mine shaft but everybody knew he was up to no good and . . .”

  “So what do you plan to do about it, Constable Hood?” Mrs. Mannering asked curtly. “Aren’t you going to start investigating?”

  “Me? Investigate? That’s not my job, my lovey. I’m a village constable. I see to drunks and lost dogs, not dead bodies. I’ll have to call the inspector from Wadebridge and he’ll probably have to call the inspector from Truro or maybe from Scotland Yard itself, seeing the serious nature of the crime.” He closed the door behind him. “Nobody is to go in here until the inspector has seen it for himself,” he said. “So do we have any idea who might have committed this terrible crime?” (He pronounced it turrrrible.) “I mean, is there likely to be a dangerous lunatic running around the house at this moment?”

  “I think that is highly unlikely,” Mrs. Mannering said coldly. “The servants are checking the premises and the grounds as we speak, but I think you’ll find that it’s an open-and-shut case. A Miss Warburton-Stoke who is staying here, a friend of the late Mr. Summers and his wife, was found standing over the body holding the knife with blood all over her hands. It is her bedroom, and her bed on which he is lying. Quite naked too.” And she gave him a very meaningful glance.

  “Oh. Ah,” the policeman said with understanding. “Case of fending off the young gentleman to preserve her honor, do you think? The courts will go lightly with her if that’s how it was. Always go soft on young girls defending their honor.”

  “I couldn’t tell you her motive,” Mrs. Mannering said. “She had seemed a perfectly pleasant and stable young person until that moment.”

  “Where is she now?” He looked around and saw me, hovering just outside my bedroom door. “Is this the young woman in question?”

  I stepped forward. “No, I’m her friend. I’ve put her to bed in my room since she was in a state of shock. She didn’t kill him, Constable. She had been to have a bath. She came into her room and kicked something in the dark, picked it up and found it was the knife when she turned on the light. Then she saw Tony Summers lying on her bed, naked. She has absolutely no idea how he got there or who might have killed him.”