The Last Mrs. Summers Read online

  I had to agree this was a good argument.

  “You seem to have a morbid fascination with this case,” he said. “Do you read a lot of detective novels? See yourself as one of those clever lady detectives who are so far removed from real life that it’s laughable?”

  “No, actually I’ve been involved in a few real murders, Detective Inspector,” I said.

  “You have? And how is that, pray? Trying to solve them when you read about them in the newspaper?”

  “No, I just happened to be on the spot when someone was killed on more than one occasion. Once I had to solve a murder that they wanted to pin on my brother. Fortunately I was able to do so.”

  “Really? Good for you.” He leaned closer to me and for a moment I thought he was going to pat my hand. “You can rest assured that my forensics team will give the place a good going over, little lady,” he said. “And we’re the professionals, so don’t you worry your little head with the case.”

  This was now war, I decided. Nobody calls me “little lady.”

  Chapter 23

  FRIDAY, OCTOBER 18, AND THEN SATURDAY, OCTOBER 19

  TREWOMA, CORNWALL

  This is absolutely horrid. It’s like my nightmare, only worse. I wish I knew what to do.

  Detective Inspector Watt looked up as someone came into the room. It was Mrs. Mannering, come to tell him that Mrs. Summers had had a little supper and now felt strong enough to answer his questions. We were told to confirm all of our details with the sergeant who had apparently come with him from London. He took down our addresses.

  “And where might your husband be, Mrs. O’Mara?” he asked.

  “Off on business somewhere,” I said.

  “And how would we contact him?”

  “I don’t think you would, at the moment. He’s abroad.”

  “What line of work is he in?”

  “He works for the government, Sergeant,” I replied although I was never quite sure this was true. This seemed to satisfy him.

  Rose did not put in an appearance that evening and eventually we were told that we would not be wanted again and could go to bed. I poured us both a large brandy. I felt we needed it to help us sleep.

  Mrs. Mannering offered Belinda another room to sleep in, but Belinda said she’d rather stay with me. She did not want to be alone. I could understand how she felt. If someone had tried to pin a murder on her, then she might not be safe alone. But I couldn’t fathom who that person could be. Apart from servants there were only Rose and Mrs. Mannering in the house. And neither had any reason to dislike Belinda. Perhaps Rose’s husband had been a little flirty with her, but that wouldn’t drive someone to kill. And we’d already decided the kitchen was just too far away for Rose to have done the deed.

  I got undressed and crawled into bed beside Belinda.

  “I’m glad you are here, Georgie,” she whispered. “You’re clever at these things, aren’t you? You’ve solved murders before. You’ll find out who did it, won’t you?”

  “I’ll do my very best,” I said, “but at the moment I’m stumped. I’ve been thinking that Rose could have chosen you as her alibi if she wanted to kill Tony, but how would she have known that he came to your room and was on your bed, naked, if she was down in the kitchen? He’d hardly have told his wife that he was off to have his way with Belinda while she was making cocoa.”

  “Oh, shut up, Georgie.” She gave a half laugh. “What could he have been thinking?”

  “His hair was wet,” I said. “Apparently he washed his hair when he had a bath at night. So maybe this has something to do with bathrooms. Did you see him at all when you went to have your bath?”

  “No. I didn’t see anybody,” Belinda said.

  “Oh, that’s a pity. I thought he might have just come out of his bath, spotted you going in to your bathroom and, in a fit of passion, decided to sprint down the hallway and lie in wait for you.”

  “Except that he would have taken his bath in his own bathroom, not the one in the hallway.”

  “Ah yes. Of course.” I sighed.

  “And he would have grabbed his bathrobe. That corridor is freezing cold with a wicked draft coming down it.”

  I nodded. “True.”

  “It’s hopeless, isn’t it?” she whispered.

  “No, it’s not. There is a logical explanation and we’ll find it. Perhaps it has to do with his former life in London. His financial dealings. His father was in banking and lost all his money, you say. Perhaps Tony had borrowed heavily and hadn’t paid back the debt and whoever he owed it to sent a henchman to finish him off.” Then I shook my head. “No, that doesn’t make sense, does it? They’d want him alive to pay back the money.”

  “And I don’t think he was the sort to be involved in shady deals. He always struck me as absolutely straight.”

  “Apart from not telling you he was engaged when you had your little fling.”

  “Apart from that,” she agreed, “but remember how scathing he was about the foreign gentleman at Trengilly and his shady dealings. And Jago being mixed up in them? I say, Georgie—I wonder if they are smuggling arms or something and Tony found out about it when he checked on the moorings he now owns and someone had to silence him?”

  “As we decided the only thing against that is how would an outsider have known where to find a ceremonial dagger or where to find Tony, for that matter?”

  “Good point.” She hesitated. “And you still don’t think Jago might have climbed in through my window, do you?”

  “How would he have known that Tony was going to visit you?”

  “You’re right. He wouldn’t.” She sighed.

  “Besides, he fancies you. I can tell that. He wouldn’t want to harm you.”

  “Do you think so?” She sounded almost hopeful.

  “Let’s try and get some sleep, shall we?” I said. “Perhaps things will look brighter tomorrow. Perhaps the police will have turned up some useful evidence that will clear your name.”

  “I do hope so,” she said.

  I tried to sleep but again was plagued by strange dreams. Again I was running down dark corridors looking for something. I didn’t know what it was but when I found it everything would be all right. And then the hallways turned into a prison and Belinda was in one of the cells. I could hear her calling for me. Help me, Georgie. You are the only one who can help me. And when I found the cell, I looked in it, but it wasn’t Belinda behind those bars, it was Darcy. I awoke, clammy with sweat. Was this some sort of awful warning? Was Darcy in danger somewhere? Beside me Belinda was blissfully asleep. I lay listening to the night noises, the cry of a screech owl, the sigh of the wind until eventually I managed to fall back to sleep.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING I awoke with a crick in my neck, having slept on the outside edge of a sagging mattress. I sat up, delighted to find that the fire had been banked up while we were sleeping and that the room was pleasantly warm. Hooray for servants, I thought, remembering again my first days alone in London when I had learned how to light my own fires. Outside the window the first rays of sun were shining on the water of the estuary. I spotted movement in the grounds and saw two policemens’ helmets among the trees. I wondered what sort of clues they were looking for or if they’d actually found a good lead. This made me a trifle more optimistic. The police were here. They were actively working on the case. As the inspector had said, I didn’t need to trouble my little head with it. Except that I probably wouldn’t take his advice!

  I heard a sigh coming from the bed. I looked around. Belinda opened her eyes, looking rested and beautiful as ever. I don’t know how she did it. No wonder men found her irresistible if she woke up looking like that every morning!

  “Oh goody. There’s a fire,” she said. “Do you think they’ll be bringing tea? I’m starving, actually. I wonder when breakfast will be ready.”
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  “You certainly bounce back from adversity quickly,” I said.

  “I had a good night’s sleep. It works wonders on the constitution and I do feel more hopeful today.” She sat up, stretched like a cat, then got up, putting on her dressing gown.

  I went down the hall to bathe. The bathtub was a huge claw-footed affair and I only filled it a few inches, thinking that it would have taken hours to fill it properly. As I sat in the warm water I found myself wondering about Tony Summers again. He had just bathed. His hair was wet. Was it possible that someone had killed him in the bathtub and then brought him to Belinda’s room? But Detective Inspector Watt had said that, based on the bloodstain, he did not think Tony was already dead when he was lain on the bed. And there was the added complication of how he could have been moved from a bathroom inside his own bedroom all the way to Belinda’s room. That would be a mighty feat indeed.

  Belinda was dressed when I returned to my room. We went downstairs, not encountering anybody, and found breakfast laid and ready. Belinda helped herself to generous amounts, but today I was the one who could only face a small portion of scrambled egg and toast. We were halfway through when we heard the tap of footsteps and Rose came in. She looked pale and lifeless and gave us the slightest nod as she went to pour coffee.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked as she sat down.

  “Numb,” she said. Then she added, “Look, I’m sorry, but I simply can’t speak to you. I should never have invited you here. I want you out of this house now.”

  “I’m afraid we can’t leave. The police said so,” I replied. “Not until the investigation is complete.”

  “How can it not be complete?” Rose snapped. “My husband is dead and you killed him.”

  “Rose,” Belinda said, “I didn’t kill Tony, I swear.”

  “You must have.” Rose’s voice sounded high and hysterical. “He was lying on your bed. And don’t think I didn’t know what was going on.”

  “Nothing was going on,” Belinda said.

  “Oh no? I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. I saw him looking at you. And you looked back at him. It’s that look between people who have slept together.” She took a big breath. “You came here deliberately, didn’t you? You hoped to renew your relationship with Tony. You arranged to bump into me and got yourself invited to our house.”

  “Rose, think about it,” I said. “If Belinda was still attracted to Tony, why on earth would she want to kill him?”

  “Because he rejected her, of course. He told her he was married to me now and he wasn’t interested.”

  “And why was he on her bed naked if he wasn’t interested?” I asked.

  She flushed angrily. “How do I know? All I know is that he was killed in your bedroom, Belinda. What was he doing there?”

  “I have no idea,” Belinda said.

  I wondered again whether Rose had possibly happened upon Tony going into Belinda’s room earlier when she was supposed to be making cocoa. But she couldn’t have. I’d been in the corridor and no one else was around.

  “If it wasn’t you, then who could it be?” Rose said, her face now bright red with anger.

  “I wish I knew,” Belinda replied.

  “It could have been an outsider,” I said. “Belinda’s window was open when she had closed it earlier. Perhaps someone climbed in and killed Tony.”

  “Who happened to be lying naked on another woman’s bed?” Rose spat out the words. “Oh, come on, Georgiana. Face facts. Look, I don’t know your friend the way you do, but perhaps she’s one of those women who lure men to their beds and then get a kick out of killing them. All I know is that my husband is dead and I don’t know what will happen to me or to Trewoma.”

  “It wasn’t long ago that you told us you were afraid he was going to kill you,” I said quietly. “How do we know you didn’t decide to kill him first?”

  “Well, that’s stupid, isn’t it?” Rose said. “I was at the other end of the house, downstairs in the kitchen, trying to get the blasted stove to light. If you want to check, ask the kitchen maid about the mess I left when the milk boiled over. I made a half-hearted attempt to clean it up, but then I thought why bother? I’m mistress of this house, aren’t I?” And she gave a bitter little laugh. “Mistress of this house.” She stopped talking as Mrs. Mannering came in.

  “Oh, Mrs. Summers. There you are. The inspector would like a word with you when you’ve had breakfast.”

  Rose sighed. “I don’t feel like eating anything. I’ll take a cup of coffee and go through to him now.”

  “You must eat,” Mrs. Mannering said. “You need to keep your strength up at a time like this.” She went over to Rose and put a hand on her arm. “We’ll get through this somehow. I’m here. I’ll take care of you now.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Mannering,” Rose said.

  What remarkable transformations happen after a death, I thought. Rose had talked of her husband wanting to kill her and now was playing the grieving and vengeful wife and Mrs. Mannering had clearly shown her disgust for having to take orders from a lower-class girl and now was mothering her.

  Rose and Mrs. Mannering went off. We went into the morning room to read the newspapers. As yet there was no news of Tony’s murder. At least that was one small blessing. I supposed news took a long time to travel up from Cornwall.

  The morning passed and we saw no one.

  “How long is this going to go on?” Belinda said. “When do you think we’ll be free to leave?”

  “I’ve no idea,” I said. I didn’t like to say that it probably wouldn’t be until they had found a more likely suspect than Belinda.

  Then just as the grandfather clock was chiming twelve the door opened and Detective Inspector Watt came in, followed by Detective Inspector Purdy. He cleared his throat before addressing us.

  “Belinda Warburton-Stoke, I am arresting you for the murder of Anthony James Summers,” he said. “You have the right to remain silent but anything you say may be used against you in a court of law.”

  Chapter 24

  OCTOBER 19

  TREWOMA, CORNWALL

  What am I going to do? Poor Belinda. I have to help her but I can’t do it alone.

  Belinda and I rose to our feet at the same time. “No!” she exclaimed. “No. That’s not true. I didn’t kill him.”

  I put out my hand to hold on to her, as much to stop her from bolting as for support.

  I felt that I had to do something. “Detective Inspector, what makes you so sure that Miss Warburton-Stoke killed him? Are you jumping to conclusions only because you found her prints on the knife or because you can’t come up with anyone better?”

  He gazed at me long and hard, the hint of a frown on his brow before answering. “Actually new evidence has come to light,” he said. “Rather compelling evidence, as it happens.” He turned to Belinda. “I’m afraid you weren’t quite honest with us, young woman. Pretending that you hadn’t had any contact with Mr. Summers since childhood. According to his wife you and he acted like old friends. He knew about your mews cottage in London. You were seen flirting together.”

  “I was there all the time, Inspector,” I said before Belinda could answer. “If there was any harmless flirting it was from Tony, not Belinda. And it was in front of the rest of us, including his wife.”

  “I did tell you that I bumped into Tony several years ago at a club in London,” Belinda said. “One does. But I hadn’t seen him since, I swear. I didn’t even know he was living here. Why won’t you believe me?”

  I thought I detected the hint of one of those smirks.

  “Then why had he written ‘Belinda!’ with an exclamation point after it in his diary on the day you arrived? Oh, and we went through the papers in his study. Your name and address are in his address book. I don’t know what exactly you’d been to him in the past but I’d say you came down her
e trying to win him back, and when he told you he wasn’t interested, you stabbed him.”

  “That is simply not true,” Belinda said.

  “When I was in detective training we were told to go with the obvious before we looked beyond,” the inspector said, turning to Detective Inspector Purdy for confirmation. “And everything points to you, young lady. You had the means, you had the motive and your prints are on the weapon that you were holding. If you will please come with us . . .”

  “Where are you taking me?” Belinda’s voice rose as Inspector Purdy took a firm grip on her arm.

  “To be held for your own safety.”

  “Where is she being taken?” I stepped between them. “To London?”

  “To the country courthouse in Truro for the time being,” Inspector Watt said. “We can’t risk flight at this point.”

  “Inspector Watt, I’ll vouch for her. I’ll keep her under constant supervision if she stays here. Surely it’s not necessary to incarcerate her?”

  “I see no reason that she should be treated in any way differently from any other person who has committed a capital offense,” Inspector Watt said. “So I’m afraid the young lady comes with us to be held until I get word from headquarters on what’s to be done with her next.”

  Belinda turned back to me. “Georgie, do something, please. Don’t let them take me away.”

  “Are you ready, miss? Do you have an overcoat?”

  “My cape is in the cupboard in the foyer, I believe,” she said. She turned back to me. “Oh my God, I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Can’t I please come with her?” I asked. “She’s very upset.” I turned to the local inspector this time.

  “I’m sorry, my lady,” Inspector Purdy said, shaking his head. “This woman is now under arrest. There’s nothing you can do.”