Authors: Janet Woods
âAnd?'
âWell  . . . the letters were on the hallstand instead of on the floor. Matthew and I checked right through the house, and we saw nothing amiss. All the windows and doors were still locked. To be honest, I thought it was all a bit creepy. Then I thought the postman must have come earlier, and I must have been a bit absent-minded and picked the letters up and put them there myself.'
âCan you describe the car you nearly collided with?' Mr Stone asked her.
âOne of those little ones with two seats, a Morris Oxford, I think, though I'm not much good with cars. It was green. Is something missing, Sir?'
âSome jewellery â it was in a jewellery case in the safe.'
âI didn't know there was a safe. I've never seen one. Have the thieves taken that as well?'
âNo, but it's well hidden, and only a few people know where it is and how to open it.'
âIncluding me,' Livia said.
When they were outside, she asked, âWhat would you suggest we do? Report the theft to the police?'
âWe shall have to, I'm afraid. The jewellery was part of your husband's estate. I have an inventory of it that could be circulated.'
Livia sighed. âI really don't want my life to get any messier than it is at the moment. We both know who's at the bottom of this, because Rosemary Sangster was wearing that brooch. What if the jewellery was returned, no questions asked?'
He turned his eyes on her and smiled. âI could drop a suggestion into an ear or two and see what happens. We'll give it until the end of the week. If there's been no progress we'll have to report it, I'm afraid.'
The word in the major's ear came via Philip Conrad.
âWord is out that Foxglove House has been robbed. Someone with inside knowledge has removed your former wife's jewellery from the strongbox.'
âGood Lord,' Henry spluttered, his surprise unforced, for although he was sure Rosemary had taken the jewels, she had forgotten to tell him. âAre you sure she hasn't mislaid them?'
âShe?'
He seized the opportunity to wear Livia's reputation down. âThe maid my son was tricked into marriage with. Livia.'
âLivia Sangster is now a mother, and has gilt edge references as to her character. I might as well tell you now, you won't win a custody battle.'
âThe baby is born then? A little early, wasn't it?' Henry felt uneasy. âWhat did she have?'
âA daughter. You know, Henry, you really should drop this case. Simon Stone has all the cards. Blackening a young widow's name and dragging her through the courts to gain control of her child and inheritance has an unpleasant whiff to it. It's simply not gentlemanly to go after a defenceless young woman like this. It will be reported in the newspaper, I expect. The public will be on her side. The house being robbed without any sign of breaking and entering will just add fuel to the fire.'
âIt won't go to court.'
âThen what the hell am I supposed to be representing? This sounds like a private vendetta against your daughter-in-law, not a legitimate challenge to a will.'
âYou owe me a favour  . . . several favours in fact, and I don't think your wife would appreciate hearing about them.'
âWhat do you know of my wife?' Philip turned hooded eyes his way. âYou know, that sounded very much like a threat to me, Henry.'
âI'm merely reminding you. The fact that the jewellery is gone only proves one thing  . . . that if somebody can walk into Foxglove House, sight unseen, and steal my former wife's jewellery case, then the security is non-existent.'
Philip picked up a paper knife and dug it into the blotting paper on his desk. His expression was one of distaste, as if he had a bad smell in his nostrils. âApparently, no questions will be asked if the jewellery is returned by the weekend. After that, the matter will be placed in the hands of the police.' Philip gazed up at him. âAre you implicated in this, Henry?'
Of course he was implicated. It had been his idea. But Rosemary had conveniently forgotten to tell him she'd been successful, which made him uneasy. âWhy do you suspect me?'
âApparently the robbery took place on the day your wife interviewed Florence Beamish. And by the way, Mrs Beamish has retracted that statement. She said your wife wrote it, and she didn't know what she was signing.'
âThe hell she didn't. Rosemary said she read it.'
âShe couldn't have done. Mrs Beamish is almost illiterate, apparently.'
The major shrugged. He felt tired and dispirited, and wished he hadn't started this. He shouldn't have listened to Rosemary in the first place. âDidn't you offer them a settlement?'
âForget that. You threatened to take Livia Sangster's child away, and she's going to fight you every inch of the way if you persist. If you or your wife has that jewellery, returning it is the only concession you'll get. I'd be happy to deliver it.'
âI daresay you would if I had it. But I don't.' The major rose, experiencing an urgent need to get back to London. Rosemary had been impatient, eager for him to leave, and his feeling of unease grew. âKeep in touch, old boy. Let me know if anything develops.'
âBy the way, my wife passed away two years ago, so you couldn't tell her anything. It was Spanish flu.'
âOh  . . . I see  . . . bad luck.'
âYes  . . . for you. My resignation will be in the post tomorrow. Find yourself another legal representative. I thought you might have a legitimate claim against your son's estate after his wife and child, but I don't want the rest of it on my conscience. Besides, your case is collapsing like a pack of cards.'
âJust remember that anything I've said to you is confidential.'
âI know the meaning of the word. It's a pity you don't. Good-day, Henry. Off you go to that young wife of yours. I hope Rosemary proves to be worth it, but I doubt it.'
The blinkers fell from Henry's eyes when he discovered that Rosemary definitely wasn't worth it although he'd always suspected as much. When he arrived home it was only to confirm that she had gone. The drawers in her bedroom were empty, suitcases missing. There was a pawnshop receipt on the dressing table, dated the previous month, and brochures from a steamship company. India, America, Canada, Australia. It would be fairly easy to find out which ship she was on, but he saw no point. Rosemary planned things carefully, and it would have set sail.
Downstairs he found a letter of foreclosure from the bank. The apartment was to be resumed at the end of the week. The game was up. Now he had to put an end to it. He was ruined.
He took the picture of Richard down from the mantelpiece and gazed at it. The boy greatly resembled his mother. Now there was a son to be proud of, he thought. For once he'd done something right in his life. It was a pity Richard had died so young.
Going upstairs again, he dressed in his military uniform, his Sam Brown and his boots. The uniform made him feel important and useful. He fetched his army issue revolver from his desk and attached it to the lanyard. The Webley had never fired a shot, yet he still cleaned it regularly, and it didn't have a fleck of dust on it. He loaded one lethal dose of lead into it, the only bullet he had, then spun the chamber and held it at arm's length, awkwardly twisting his hand so the barrel pointed towards him. He closed his eyes and felt the sweat bead on his forehead.
He thought he heard a quiet chuckle and opened his eyes again.
Richard looked at him from his frame. Instantly, Henry felt guilty. His son had loved that girl, and now there was a daughter from the marriage â one that neither of them would ever see if he carried this out. And he was curious to see the infant.
Richard wore a faint smile on his lips, as if amused by Henry's predicament.
Livia might allow you to be the child's grandfather.
âAfter the way I've treated her? She'd never allow it now.'
She's only human. She's got her back to the wall and has come out fighting, just like I thought she would. What were you thinking of, coming between a mother and her child? Put the proposition to her. Give her room to breathe and allow her to think about it. She's not unreasonable.
Henry shook his head. âI'm too ashamed.'
So you should be.
You might think what you intend to do is the easy way out, but you're a coward, and you're weak and you haven't got the guts to do it. Look how your hand is shaking. You've never seen a man with his head blown off, have you? Your brains will be splattered all over the room.
âI know what I am, Richard, but you're wrong about me not having any guts.'
Holding a conversation with a dead man struck Henry as bordering on madness. It was ridiculous! People would think he was insane.
Giving a high-pitched giggle, he pulled the trigger.
Eighteen
âHenry Sangster has abandoned his plans to challenge Richard's will,' Simon Stone said. âThat will make its passage through probate faster. I think we can arrange an advance if you need one.'
Relief washed over Livia. Her supply of money was rapidly dwindling and she had to be careful of what she spent. âMy funds are getting a little low. What about the jewellery; was it recovered?'
âRosemary Sangster has pawned it and gone abroad. I thought you'd like it returned, since it was legated to you. Rather than have a scandal, I've redeemed it for the same price loaned on it. I pointed out to the broker he could be charged with receiving stolen goods, in which case he wouldn't get anything back. I'll make sure it's accounted for in the books, but if we ever see the thief again we can pursue her for reimbursement of the debt.'
âWhere did she go? America, I suppose. She wanted to become a film star.'
âWe believe she may have gone to Tangiers with a man who passes himself off as a minor Polish royal. He's an adventurer and wanted by the police for fraud. She'll be in good company until she runs out of money, and as soon as she steps back on British soil, she'll be arrested.'
Livia couldn't find it in herself to feel sorry for Rosemary. âWhat about the major?'
âHe's deeply depressed. He'll be kept in a mental institution until the doctors say he's completely recovered, and can be trusted not to try and kill himself again. They will probably give him electric shock therapy treatment. Attempting to commit suicide is a crime, as you know, so charges could have been brought against him.'
Livia shuddered. âI'm surprised he missed, when it was almost point blank range.'
âHe'd never fired a gun before. What he didn't know was that the Webley has quite a kick. It takes lots of practice to become a proficient shot with it, even using the accepted practice of handling it. Either his hand jerked upwards as he fired, and the bullet lodged in the ceiling, or he changed his mind at the last minute. The kickback broke his wrist and several bones in his hand. He's a broken man, who has nothing left. No wife, no home, no children, no friends and no money.'
Despite what had happened, now that Livia was over the anger and depression Richard's death had brought with it, she felt sorry for the major. He'd been brought down as low as a man could go, and though his downfall had been brought about by his own actions, it had been a long way to fall.
âRichard wouldn't have wanted his father to be left destitute,' she murmured. âPerhaps I can help him when the time comes, though at the moment I never want to see him again. He can't live with me, because I'll never forgive him for threatening to take my daughter. I'll never be able to trust him with her, you see. Let me think about it, Mr Stone, and you do the same, since you know my legacy better than I do. We might be able to provide him with suitable accommodation of some sort, and an allowance.'
âYou have a kind heart, my dear. It won't be for some time, so we needn't be in too much of a hurry. Think it through carefully. You know what they say, marry in haste and repent at leisure.'
âOnly I wouldn't dream of marrying the major.' She only just managed to keep the bitterness from her laughter at the thought. âRichard and I married in haste, you know, and I'll never regret it. He said life was too short for regrets, and for him it was true. He treated me as though I was precious to him. We laughed a lot, and I loved him dearly. I sincerely hope I made him happy.'
âOh, you did, my dear. He told me so. âNow, have you made any plans for Foxglove House?'
âPlans? None at all, but the fact that you ask leads me to believe you might have.'
âLand is meant to be worked, and your daughter's estate has been neglected for several decades now. It's unlikely that Meggie will grow up to become a farmer, so I do think we should try and find someone from the district to run the estate as it should be run. It will not make a profit for a year of two, of course, but it's better to try and make it a going concern now, than allow the land to lie fallow and the house go to rack and ruin.'
She said with a smile, âI suppose you just happen to know a farmer looking for an estate to manage, too.'
âNo  . . . but it would be an ideal start for a younger man who'd grown up in the district. One who knows farming and wants to start out on his own.'
âMay I make a suggestion, Mr Stone?'
âOf course you may, Mrs Sangster.'
âYou might like to ask Matthew Bugg to take on the task.'
âOf course I might  . . . I should have thought of him myself.'
Connie Starling was still living at the cottage after Christmas. Although she was a guest, she couldn't cast off her service habits, and she cooked and cleaned and generally took over the housekeeper's role.
Livia would miss her if she left, but sometimes she longed for solitude, so she could be alone with her thoughts and without the constant stream of advice coming her way.