Murder in Abbot's Folly (26 page)

‘What would you have done in our position?' Georgia asked. ‘Ignore it? We had to tell the police.'

‘
If
you ever had such a conversation, and
if
you reported it correctly,' Philip said.

‘Any reason we should make it up or—'

‘Not that I can see,' Jake interposed. ‘I told you that, Phil.'

Philip was quick to make amends. ‘I suppose you're right. Maybe Douglas said it as a joke and you misinterpreted it.'

So that was the way the relationship worked, Georgia thought. Jake led, and Philip followed. She'd assumed it was the other way around.

‘It's one hell of a problem for us, though, especially me,' Philip continued, ‘because my publishers have had to be warned. All for nothing.'

‘Is it too late to postpone publication and make changes?' she asked.

‘It's set to begin printing first week of September, so I hope we can get this mess cleared up by then. If we can't, they might scrap the whole book. It doesn't look good.'

FIFTEEN

W
hen Georgia arrived at Edgar House on the Monday the array of cars and vans drawn up before the house was impressive. It was also daunting, because it brought home to her that the Luckhurst case had stalled. Everyone's attention was on the film. Reluctantly, Peter had pointed out that there was going to be no room for wheelchairs or lift accommodation today, so she should go to Edgar House alone. Which was a nuisance, he felt, because it would be an interesting day. A phone call from Mike urging her to go but keep a low-key profile reinforced this, but unfortunately neither Mike nor Peter seemed to have any idea
what
they were expecting.

She took a deep breath and went into the house. Not only was the front door already open, but also every door that she could see. Edgar House was alive with sound and energy. Voices, movements above, and a living room apparently turned into a temporary props room. There was no sign of anybody in it, but there was a sense of people scurrying about elsewhere in the house. She could hear voices from the small room to the right of the entrance hall, where Jane Austen had awaited the Godmersham carriage – that much might be true even if the appearance of Captain William Harker into her life had been discredited.

She went into the room and found Dora and Jennifer poring over a script by the window.

‘Oh, Georgia,' Jennifer greeted her. ‘I'm so sorry – I didn't have time to let you know what was happening.'

‘It's been called off?' Georgia asked in alarm.

‘No,' Dora said with a certain complacency. ‘Very much all on. It's a completely new focus for the film. Poor Jake's been up most of the night. We gave him a bed here.'

‘What on earth's happened?'

‘I went up to London on Friday and got back yesterday,' Jennifer said. ‘Result: very definite doubts over the collection. Still only doubts, because if they're fakes they're good, including the signatures on the two watercolours. But there was one howler that Douglas could not have foreseen. There was a letter from a Miss Pretty about a visit she paid to Stourdens where she ran into a Miss Jane Austen in the gardens alone with a naval captain, both seeming flustered at her coming upon them so unexpectedly. It was a reasonable risk on Douglas's part, and the Pretty family undoubtedly lived nearby. Unfortunately for him the specialist I saw did know of the Pretty family and was able to check. The sister to whom Douglas had addressed the letter had died in the preceding year.'

‘I'm afraid it looks as if our letters are therefore also suspect,' Dora said.

She did not look in the least ‘afraid', Georgia thought admiringly. Indeed Dora looked as if she was trying hard not to show excitement over the drama. ‘I'm sorry, Jennifer,' Georgia said. ‘I know the collection means a lot to you.'

‘It did, and in a way it still does. But it's settled now, for me anyway, and confirms what you told me about the meeting with Douglas. But my poor mother – I can't bear it.'

Dora put her arm round her. ‘I'll look after you, Jennifer.' And looking at her, Georgia believed she would.

‘What about Jake?' she asked. ‘How's he taken it?'

‘On the chin,' Jennifer replied. ‘He was half-prepared for it, but it meant working flat out to recast the working script of questions and answers for the presenter, and Dora, Jill and Phil for the interview questions.'

Georgia grimaced. ‘How's Phil taken it?'

‘Don't ask,' Jennifer said. ‘He's Jake's problem, luckily.'

‘And your father?'

‘You mean Tim – they tend to mean more or less the same thing at the moment. Answer: let's just say I'm glad Jake's on my side.' Jennifer managed a grin. ‘And as for Douglas, guess where he is?'

‘A thousand miles away, I hope.'

‘Here.'

‘I suppose,' Georgia said, when she had recovered her breath, ‘it's me that's crazy, not the rest of the world.'

‘I'm with you,' Jennifer said.

‘And so am I,' Dora said firmly. ‘That awful man. And to think I made some raspberry fritters specially for him.'

‘What's he doing here?' Georgia asked in bewilderment.

‘Believe it or not, Jake's using him as his presenter.' Jennifer caught Georgia's expression and managed to laugh. ‘Better to have your enemy within your sights, Georgia.'

‘But
presenter
? Is Jake out of his mind? Does he trust him?' Georgia supposed Jennifer was right, however, and she tried to remember she herself was only a visitor here today.

‘If he goes off course, Jake has the last word. He won't use the film.'

‘So what's the new script about, if there's no Harker and no love affair?'

‘It's clever. Jake's concentrating on
The Watsons
and its links with Edgar House for today. There's no doubt that Jane knew the Edgar Arms from her journeys to Godmersham. Nor is there any doubt that the Edgar Arms had Assembly Rooms in Jane Austen's time and that William Harker existed, if Douglas is speaking the truth.
Oh
!' Jennifer's face fell as she realized what she had said, and Georgia laughed. ‘Anyway, come and see what Jake's up to.'

Dora hurried them up the stairs to the first floor. She was a stately figure in her chatelaine's outfit for the TV film, a flowing blue chiffon skirt with matching jacket and pearls. When they reached the entrance to the Assembly Rooms, Georgia's initial reaction was that she'd walked into
Alice in Wonderland
, at the point where the gardeners were busy rushing around getting ready for the arrival of the Queen of Hearts by painting the white roses red. The transformation in progress here was just as startling. Someone had performed a miracle by transforming the drab carpet flooring into polished floorboards, candle holders adorned the bright decorated walls, and elegant chairs were clustered along the walls and round the fireside. There was a group of extras in Regency dress, and she could see the camera and lighting crews with their gear hard at work.

Jake came to greet them, looking as if he welcomed a break. ‘We've already shot the room before the makeover,' he explained. ‘Now we're heavily into 1802.'

‘What are you planning to film here?' Georgia tried not to sound suspicious that romance might be about to make a re-entry.

‘Nuts, aren't we? But I'd already hired the cast and costumes, so why not use them? It was going to be a gentle, unfocused scene which would blur back to Edgar House today, but now we're planning an in-focus scene of the dance in
The Watsons
, then a dissolve back to the presenter.'

‘One of the cast is in naval costume,' Jennifer pointed out.

‘Give me a break, Jen,' Jake said wearily. ‘I've paid for it, so I might as well use it. And Harker did stay here.'

‘So Douglas Watts says.'

‘I checked it out with the archives myself. Satisfied? So as long as we don't stray into disputed territory we're safe.'

‘And at Stourdens too?' she asked doubtfully. ‘What about the love affair there? What else do you have?'

‘The visits Jane would have made to Stourdens. Look, I'll
cope
.' Jake sighed. ‘Take a look at this lot.' He waved an arm over the Assembly Rooms. ‘You can see how much organization goes into one of these days. I've got actors hired, catering fixed, costumes, cameras, traffic, transport – it's a miracle that anything ever gets organized at all, let alone postponed as the whole approach changed like this. I've been closeted with my AD; he's in charge of the schedule. If we are to finish this room by lunchtime that will be a miracle in itself. Douglas, incidentally, is busy with his new script. He's as meek as a lamb.'

With a wolf inside, Georgia thought cynically. ‘What are you filming this afternoon?'

‘Tracking shots, following the arrival of the Edwards family and Emma Watson from the courtyard then upstairs past Tom Musgrave's room – I've upgraded an extra to pop out of his room as in the novel. Pity the arched entry into the courtyard has been built over.'

At Dora's look of alarm in case Jake decided to knock it down, Jake hastily added, ‘Don't worry, we'll manage. I have to be off – they're signalling picture's up. In other words we're ready to go. You'll be next, Dora, but it will be a while yet.'

‘Oh dear,' Dora lamented as they retired out of the firing line. ‘It was going to be such fun, but I feel as if we've unleashed a hurricane.'

‘So do I,' Jennifer said bitterly. ‘Let's find ourselves a coffee.'

Georgia excused herself from joining them, preferring to watch the filming. It was a slow process, however, and having seen three takes of the Sir Roger de Coverley she decided she might achieve more elsewhere. She knew Peter would be trying to reach Douglas by phone today, but it was far more likely that she would find him first. Whatever his function in the film, he was a captive here, and for once not in control.

She passed Gerald as she walked along the corridor to the stairs, but he said nothing, merely acknowledging her presence with a curt nod. When she poked her head into the room where the letters were kept, however, she was rewarded – if that was the right word – by seeing Douglas. He was calmly reading a newspaper. Not his script, she noted, and furthermore there was no sign of the showcase containing the letters.

He promptly rose to his feet. ‘Ah, Miss Marsh, enjoying the fantasy?'

‘Which fantasy?' she replied lightly. ‘If yours, I'm afraid not.'

He looked reproachful. ‘I was referring to Edgar House dolled up as an early-nineteenth-century pleasure palace.'

‘I'm told you're the new presenter for today's filming. Isn't it hard to reconcile that role with the one you boasted about to my father and me?'

‘A mere fantasy on
your
part, Miss Marsh. However, I did enjoy our lunch with your father. Such a pity I had to leave early.'

‘You haven't won yet,' Georgia said, ‘so don't be too confident.'

‘Dear me, I am terrified.'

‘I hope with reason.' Georgia was surprised to find herself shaking and remembered all too clearly that Douglas Watts might be a murderer – twice over. ‘I shall work out how you managed that trick with your studio.'

‘Shall?' Douglas queried. ‘That word implies that no doubt exists. But I think it does. If you'll excuse me, I have a script to present. Oh,' he added as he passed her, ‘by the way, Esther Tanner is here with her current husband. Nice chap. She deserves a bit of luck after that skunk Max.'

He looked highly pleased with himself, Georgia noted. Not for long, she vowed as she went back to the ground floor. If she were Jake, she would be very worried about what Douglas might slip into his presentation. Or Philip, come to that. She made allowances for Philip, however. He must be shattered at the news that Jennifer had brought. Far from being a careful interviewee, he must be considering his options if his publishers took the same view as Jake. Better safe than sorry.

Why were the Wilsons back here? she wondered as she walked through the living room. Just visitors, as she was, or was Jake going to give Esther a grilling over the forged letters? And it was odd that Tim hadn't turned up, or Roy.

She made her way to the kitchen, where she found Barbara and her team laying out the lunch ready to take into the garden and courtyard. She'd seen her van in front of the house, so the hard work was probably done at home in the new purpose-built kitchen. Today it was not Jane Austen food, however. She could see delicious-looking quiches, salads and plates of sandwiches. She didn't want to interrupt the flow and was about to retreat when Barbara noticed her and waved.

‘How's it going?' Georgia called, and Barbara came across to her.

‘Good, thanks. Funny being back here. I nearly went into the old kitchen. They've changed it around. It used to be right behind the bar, but it's a storeroom now.'

‘Craig not with you?'

‘No, it's a dry lunch. Odd for an old pub, but Jake said he wasn't taking any risks. No relaxing. It all has to be shot today. Like the old days, it is, only it's Jake shouting the odds and not Max.'

‘I'm told Esther Tanner is here.'

‘Is she?' Barbara looked interested. ‘I'll look forward to seeing Madam High and Mighty at closer quarters. See that photo outside in the corridor? Stuck-up cow, she was. It's one of the photos Max took every New Year of staff and a few regulars. That was the last one, 1985. His idea of our all being chummy.'

‘I'll take a look at it,' Georgia assured her, kicking herself for never asking the Clackingtons if they had any pictures of the old pub and staff. ‘Right now,' she added, realizing she was holding Barbara up.