Murder at the Castle (28 page)

And it worked. With two adults to supervise each child, we managed to maintain more or less civilized behaviour. Nigel and Inga, experienced parents, set boundaries on what the twins could have, and they, like the good children they basically were, accepted the limitations. They took a long time to choose the two toys each wanted the most, and I gladly proffered my credit card to the cashier. It was a small price to pay for some peace and quiet.

Back at the hotel, the two settled down like angels to play with their new acquisitions, and the adults to a conference. ‘What they need,' said Inga, ‘is their own familiar surroundings. With their parents and their nanny here, they did reasonably well in a hotel. Now that everyone's out of reach, they're bound to be disoriented and scared. I wonder if there are some grandparents who could be prevailed upon?'

‘I suppose we could ask John. It depends upon how things are going with Cynthia.'

‘You could phone Alan and find out,' Pat suggested.

‘I can't, though. That is, I could try, but if he's at the hospital still, he'll have the mobile turned off. They're very pernickety about the rules.'

‘Hospitals always are,' said Nigel. ‘But he might not still be there. Why not try? The kids are okay now, but they won't be for long. If they're anything like Nigel Peter, they have an attention span of about ten minutes.'

‘If that,' said Inga.

I was, therefore, greatly relieved when Alan answered his phone.

‘What's going on?' I asked. ‘Where are you?'

‘In the hospital car park,' he said. ‘Jack and Jill have a new baby brother!'

‘Oh!'
It's a boy
, I mouthed to the others. ‘That was quick.'

‘They decided on a Caesarean. Both mother and baby are doing well. He's small, only a little over five pounds, but healthy, and the doctors say he'll be fine. He's still in the special care unit, but that's just a precaution, because of his low birth weight. And Cynthia, when I left, was just coming out of the anaesthetic and quite happy. I'm just headed for the police station to check on our fiery Irishman.'

‘Before you do that, do you think you could go back and talk to John for a moment? Now that he's over most of the anxiety, we need to know if there are any grandparents, or aunts, or anyone who could take over the care of the twins. They're being somewhat difficult, and I don't know how much longer the hotel people are going to put up with them.'

‘Oh, Lord, yes! Even Mike and Dennis, perfect grandchildren though they are, could be hellions at that age, especially when they were upset. You poor darling! There's hope, though. Frieda's arrived in Appledore.'

‘To stay? Or only to pack up her things?' I couldn't keep the hope out of my voice.

‘To stay, John thinks. He talked to her on the phone, told her it was all a mistake, and she'd soon have another baby to look after. Apparently she adores babies.'

‘So what should we do?' In the background, the twins were growing noisy. Apparently one of the new toys was in dispute between the two of them.

‘If you can bear it, I'd suggest taking them home at once. I'll check with John, of course, but it seems the only sensible solution. Look, you won't all fit into that tiny car of Nigel's, so suppose I drop everything else and come to help.'

‘No, I don't think that's a good plan. You need to talk to James, and I want to be with you when you do. I have a better idea. I'll find out what the train connections are, while you talk to John. Between the three of them, I think Nigel and Inga and Pat can manage, if there aren't too many changes. You can delay your visit to the police station long enough to take them to Chester, and someone can surely meet them at the station in Kent.'

‘Well, perhaps. You check, and I'll go talk with John.'

I let the hotel staff do the checking for me. They were eager to cooperate, probably because they were looking forward to the imminent departure of the twins. The news, though, was discouraging. ‘It's direct from Chester to London Euston, madam,' said the clerk who rang me back. ‘Every half-hour. But then they'd have to get to St Pancras, which isn't far, but with two children and luggage, it could be a trial. Then they would take a train to Ashford, and then change to another to get to Appledore. The connections aren't good, I'm afraid, and there are reports of delays on the line.'

I rang off, discouraged. ‘You can't get there from here,' I said with a sigh. ‘Not travelling with two whirling dervishes.'

‘I begin,' said Inga, ‘to understand the nineteenth-century appeal of laudanum.' For the twins by that time were whining with sheer exhaustion and resisting all persuasion to better behaviour. They were unhappy, and they wanted the world to know about it.

It was fortunate for our sanity that Alan called back very quickly. ‘Forget about trains, love.'

‘I already have. They're impossible. I guess you're our only hope.'

‘No, the best solution of all will be at your door in five minutes or so. John agrees that the twins must be taken home, and has hired a car and driver for the trip. If Nigel and Inga and Pat will accompany them, they can return in the same car, and John would like to pay them for their trouble. He's most grateful to you all for seeing to them, and apologizes for leaving it to you.'

‘There's nothing to apologize for. Tell him I want to see that new baby as soon as we can, and thank him for making this so much easier. And I'll see you shortly?'

We made quick work of packing the twins' things, and when we told them they were going home to Fraülein, they became far more cooperative. The driver of the Bentley helped, too. I had some misgivings about two small children and all that expensive upholstery, and then decided to stop worrying about it. Doubtless John would reimburse the company for any damage.

Alan arrived before I'd finished seeing off the little party, and he helped, too. When they had finally gone, I turned to him, shoulders sagging. ‘I'm too old for this sort of thing. They're adorable children, really, but . . .'

‘But you've had enough of them.'

‘At least for now. I have new respect for Nigel and Inga.'

‘And they have only one to cope with. Now, my dear, we are going to repair to The Stables for a drink and some dinner, courtesy of John, who told me to put it on his bill.'

‘But James . . .' I protested, weakly.

‘James can stew in his own juice a little longer. Come on. You need a rest.'

The dinner was excellent, and I stood up from it, refreshed and ready to face the next thing. ‘Just let me brush my teeth. I hate furry teeth.'

One doesn't expect to be struck by a major revelation in the ladies' room of a restaurant. I was attending to my teeth, trying to hurry, when suddenly I saw it all.

I only needed confirmation, and we were on our way to get it.

‘Y
ou're very quiet, Dorothy,' said Alan on the way to the police station. ‘Still tired?'

‘No. Just thinking.'

He darted a quick, quizzical look my way, but I closed my mouth firmly. I wasn't ready yet to talk about my brilliant idea.

James was not in the best of tempers when we were admitted to the lock-up. In fact, he reminded me of the twins at their worst. He was petulant, aggressive and stubborn, all magnified by his Irish disposition. In short, he was in no mood to cooperate with anyone about anything.

Alan, with commendable patience, put up with his fury and his language for some time before saying, ‘All right, Mr O'Hara. I've listened to you. Now you listen to me for a moment.'

‘Why should I?'

‘Because if you don't, I'll leave you here until Inspector Owen releases you. That could be some time.'

‘I've not bloody done anything!'

‘Then you'd do much better to answer my questions and prove that to me. Or shall I leave now?'

‘I don't have to talk to you!'

‘True.' Alan stood up. ‘I think we're wasting our time here, Dorothy.'

We didn't even get to the end of the corridor. ‘Ah, bloody hell,' said James. ‘Come and ask your feckin' questions.'

We went back.

‘No promises to answer them, mind.'

‘No, of course not.'

‘Don't you have to tell me I can have a lawyer?' he asked truculently, when we had sat down again in the cramped cell.

‘You've been watching too much American television,' said Alan amicably. ‘Here in the UK, the caution doesn't say anything about legal representation. Of course, you're entitled to have a lawyer present if you want. It would be at your own expense, though. And I remind you that I'm not a policeman, so this is not an official interview.'

‘Ah, hell. Get it over.'

‘Very well, then. This afternoon when we first talked, you talked about wanting to get even with Madame de la Rosa—'

‘Might as well call her Gracie. Or bitch.'

‘Gracie will do nicely. To get even with Gracie, then, for what you thought she did to your friend Daniel Green.'

James said nothing. Alan gave him a moment, and then went on. ‘And you made a further, very interesting statement. You said you only meant to frighten her. What was it that you did to try to frighten her?'

Again he remained silent, though his eyes darted from one of us to the other like a frightened animal.

‘Did you give her something to eat or drink just before she fell?'

We both knew the answer to that one: no drugs had been found in her system. But James didn't know that. ‘No!' he shouted. ‘I tell you, I didn't mean to kill her. Only . . .'

And then he firmly closed his mouth again.

I decided it was time to explode my little bomb. ‘James,' I said, leaning toward him, ‘when did you find time to do it? It must have been tricky, with all those stagehands and musicians milling around. Anyone could have seen you.'

‘Time to do what?' He still looked surly, but his voice gave him away.

‘Time,' I said gently, ‘to tape the dental floss to the top of the balcony.'

The look he gave me showed astonishment mixed with admiration, mixed, I could have sworn, with amusement.

It took some time for him to tell us the whole story. How he'd become increasingly sure that Gracie, to use his name for her, had pushed Daniel to his death. How Larry's thoughtless remark had festered in his mind until he decided to do something to get even. How he'd seen Gracie shy in terror at a spider on that ill-fated morning at the castle, before the weather forced the transfer of the rehearsal to the church.

‘At first I thought I'd buy one of those fake tarantulas,' James had said. His speech had changed, his accent less evident, his language far less crude, reinforcing my opinion that much of his Irishness was put on for effect. ‘But I couldn't find one readily, and anyway it might have been seen too soon. So then I thought that a web would be just as good, and I knew just the way to create that effect.'

‘How did you hit on the idea?' I couldn't resist asking. ‘It was brilliant, but it took me forever to figure it out.'

‘Ah, but you never terrorized your little sister, did you? I learned that trick when I was ten. It was useful in other ways, too. Me mum thought I was being such a good boy, flossing me teeth every time. She used to brag about how often she had to buy the floss!'

He told us about planning every move, how he'd bought the super-sticky strapping tape ‘because your sellotape would never stick to stone'; how he'd cut the lengths of floss ahead of time, painstakingly painted them with black marker so they wouldn't be easily seen, and attached them to the tape, which he'd then lightly attached to some aluminium foil to make it easy to carry. How he'd chosen a moment to ‘go to the loo' when everyone's attention was elsewhere, sneaking up to the balcony to affix the tape to the lintel of the window opening. He'd even brought along someone's cello case to stand on, so he could reach high enough.

‘It was a lot of trouble to go to for a joke,' I said to Alan back at Tower later as we were getting ready for bed. The house seemed very quiet and empty without Nigel and Inga.

‘It wasn't a joke,' said Alan soberly. ‘It was revenge. And it succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.'

‘You don't think he really meant to kill her, then?'

‘No, and I think he was terrified by what happened. He thought his only chance was that everyone would think it was an accident. And we very nearly did accept that explanation.'

‘If I weren't so afraid of spiders myself, he might have got by with it. That was the only thing that made me believe she was somehow frightened to death. What will happen to him?'

‘That depends on what view a jury takes of his actions. There's little doubt he caused her death, but I can't see them deciding it was purposeful. He'll probably be reprimanded severely and told to take more consideration of his actions in future. Beyond that, not much, I shouldn't think.'

‘And do you think he will? Consider his actions in future, I mean?'

‘I very much doubt it.' Alan yawned, and his phone rang.

I looked at the bedside clock. Eleven thirty. My stomach lurched. No good ever comes of a call at that time of night.

‘Yes. Surely. Goodnight.'

‘Not another crisis?'

‘No, dear heart. That was Nigel telling me they arrived in Appledore safely, the children are tucked up under the watchful eye of Frieda and Pat, and he and Inga are going to sleep at home tonight before the driver brings them back tomorrow to pick up their car and say their goodbyes here. The drama is over, my dear. Sleep well.'

‘Except of course he didn't do it.'

Alan was awake, but only just. He turned over, sat up, and accepted the cup of coffee I handed him. ‘What did you say?' he asked in a rusty, early-morning voice.