Gone Guest, page 15
Then she left the younger woman blinking uncertainly down at her pocket.
Over the next few hours, the club focused on the case. They had a woman dead and a man missing and, as far as most of them were concerned, an innocent guy in lock-up. And so they tried hard to find a fresh killer, a fresh motive, but kept coming back to Seamus.
He really was the logical suspect: the mysterious text message had come from his phone; his alibi for the time of the shootings was wide open; and he was the closest person to both victims, caught, it seemed, in a strange love triangle.
“No wonder Singh hauled him away,” said Queenie. “And no wonder Sebastian didn’t run back to the house for refuge. If he suspected his brother, he’d hardly run towards him.”
“Okay, but why not head down to the guardhouse and alert Pete?” asked Perry. “Why run up to the boundary wall? It’s bizarre.”
“He was being fired upon, probably wasn’t thinking straight.”
“And perhaps it wasn’t Seamus he was afraid of at the house,” suggested Claire. “Maybe he had no idea who was shooting, just knew the bullets were coming from this direction. For all he knew it could have been a guest or one of his cousins.”
“Yes, we should consider them,” said Perry. “Bethany especially. She’s what I’d call a true mean girl. I would’ve locked horns with her at high school.”
“Being mean does not equal being a murderer, Perry,” said Lynette.
His eyes squinted. “Bet you were a mean girl at school, Lynny.” He looked to Alicia for confirmation but she held up her palms, staying out of it.
“Why would you say that?” demanded Lynette.
“Because you’re tall, blond, a little too sure of yourself. Would’ve been a cheerleader if we lived in the US, with all the jocks drooling after you.”
Lynette humphed. “I’m going to take that as a compliment, Peppy.”
“See? Mean girl,” he shot back, and she gasped.
“Can we return to Bethany for a sec, peeps?” asked Missy, cleaning her black and white glasses as she spoke. “I reckon she’s a top suspect, and not just ’cause she’s mean. She’s the one who wanted to hold the party here. Isn’t that what Ronnie said? Bethany was determined to get the family together at this house. Why? So she could control proceedings, that’s why! She had everything organised, like clockwork, right down to the minute. Was very grumpy when we turned up late, remember? Maybe she faked that text, luring Sebastian to the court, and needed to bump him off during the noisy fireworks, and our tardiness was ruining her schedule.”
“Didn’t you say you saw her in the cabana with Hugh during the fireworks though?” asked Queenie.
“Only at the start. She went inside the house after that. Maybe she lured Hugh to the cabana first to fake an alibi.”
“Or maybe they’re in it together,” added Lynette. “He also went inside, right?”
Missy nodded as Queenie shifted in her seat.
“So what’s their motive?” she asked. “Why kill Greta and Sebastian?”
“They were obviously having an affair, Hugh and Bethany,” said Lynette, thinking on the fly. “And Sebastian knew about it, was about to expose them, and had to be shut down.”
“Shut down?” Perry scoffed. “You don’t plot a murder over something as trivial as an affair.”
“There’s nothing trivial about affairs,” said Alicia, her eyes darting to her phone.
“You know what I mean,” he said, watching her.
“I’m with Perry on this one,” said Queenie. “It’s all very titillating that Hugh might be cheating on his wife, but it’s not exactly surprising. Stop the presses! An older man cheats with a younger woman!”
“Except Hugh’s wife insinuated that he’d done it before,” said Lynette. “Maybe there’d been a string of affairs and he knew it would be the final straw. That’s why he had to act.”
“Okay,” said Queenie, “that might be Hugh’s motive, but Bethany’s single isn’t she? Has anyone heard anything about a partner? She has no reason to kill her cousin. Sorry but I think it’s what Dame Agatha would call a red herring.”
“Well, I’m not throwing that herring back in the water just yet,” said Lynette. “I don’t trust either of them, especially Hugh. Something was going on between those two.”
Claire tucked another stray lock into her black chignon and listened half-heartedly. Like Queenie and Perry, she wasn’t buying the affair angle either. Instead, she was remembering something Peg said last night about the inheritance.
She sat forward and interrupted. “What if it has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with money?” That got their attention, and she smiled. “What if Bethany and Bronson were worried that Ronnie was going to leave all her wealth to her nephews—her blood nephews no less—and were trying to bump off the competition?”
“Does that mean Seamus is in danger too?” gulped Missy.
“Yeah, that doesn’t make sense,” said Perry. “Why not lure them both to the court and kill two birds with one stone?” Then he sniggered at Alicia and added, “See? I’m good with puns.”
She rolled her eyes as Lynette answered, “Maybe he never got his text? Reception’s crap here.”
“Or maybe they’re smarter than we think,” said Claire, eyes twinkling brighter. “Maybe they were trying to kill one twin and plant it on the other. They lure Sebastian to the court, intending to shoot him, and plant the evidence on Seamus. That way one twin would be dead, Ronnie would disinherit the other, and the Ugly Siblings would get the lot.”
“Too elaborate,” said Alicia. “Too much left to chance. What if Singh hadn’t suspected Seamus? What if Ronnie ends up leaving it all to a cat shelter anyway?”
“How about this then,” said Queenie, scraping fingers through her bob. “What if it is about the inheritance, but it’s Seamus who was getting greedy? He didn’t want to share. He really did send that text and shot his brother, hoping to keep it all for himself.”
“Did Seamus do something to you?” asked Perry, one eyebrow cocked.
“I’m just throwing out ideas like Claire.”
“And rightly so,” Claire responded, giving Perry a frown. Then her frown deepened. “We need to find out who Ronnie’s named in her will; that could be the key. Unfortunately, there’s no way we can ask her. Ronnie loathes discussing money.”
“Tough luck,” said Perry. “Money is a powerful motivator, and Ronnie sure has plenty of it, whether she wants to discuss it or not. If Ronnie really is leaving everything to the twins—and that’s very likely, she dotes on those boys—then there’s no better suspects than the Ugly Siblings.”
~
Bethany’s plumped lips smiled sweetly as she watched Craig Samson place the blue esky carefully into the boot of his white sedan.
“I appreciate your coming to the house,” she told him. “It was going to be difficult to get away.”
“No trouble. Although I think your security guard suspects something.”
She waved manicured fingers in the air. “He’s thicker than he looks.”
“And what about your brother?”
“Bronson? What about him?”
Craig shrugged. “I don’t know… he seemed a bit… combative.”
She almost snorted. “Don’t mind Bronson. He’s even thicker. Besides, he’s just grumpy because he’s got a killer hangover. You do what you do best, and I’ll worry about Bronson.”
Craig shrugged and glanced into the boot. “Could take a while though. Was expecting something a little more than that.” He nodded towards the esky.
“Yes, well, it’s all I could manage under the circumstances.”
“Hopefully that will do.” He crossed two fingers over and held them up, adding, “If not, we might have to take it all up a notch.”
That wiped the sweet smile from her lips as he slammed the boot shut.
~
Queenie opened the garage door and scowled into the darkness. Where was the light switch again? She took one step in, and suddenly a set of overhead lights flickered on.
Good, she thought, her scowl vanishing.
She knew she should be focusing on the case, but Claire did tell her to get a life, and she hadn’t had a chance to explore that blue Lotus yet. Had never seen one up close, maybe she could…
Queenie stopped and stared at the silver Maserati, the one she’d sat in last night. Why was it suddenly so smudgy?
“Can I help you?” came a voice behind her, and Queenie swung around to see a police officer lurking. He was tall and wiry with a trendy brown moustache.
“Oh… no, all good,” she replied, not wanting to admit she was just lusting for another glimpse of Bert’s stunning car collection.
Then she scuttled back into the house and out to the patio where the rest of club were now taking a well-earned tea break.
~
“What do you want?” demanded Lynette as she sniffed a jug of milk, phone at her ear.
“Hello to you too, Lynette,” came a deep voice at the other end. “Can you please put Alicia on?”
She glanced across the buffet table to where her sister was carefully sifting through the tea collection like she was choosing a library book. “Why don’t you call her mobile?”
“Just put her on.”
Lynette dumped the jug to the table. “What’s going on with you two? I’ve never seen ’Lis look so miserable.”
There was a strained silence. “Please, Lynny. It’s important.”
A growl now. “Fine. But whatever it is, can you sort it out quickly? We need Alicia firing on all six cylinders. This is serious.”
“So is this.”
Lynette humphed, then strode across to Alicia, who was now dribbling hot water over a Darjeeling tea bag.
Alicia watched the tea grow darker in her cup, then looked up from the urn to see Lynette holding out her mobile.
“Who is it?” she asked, but Lynette just sighed as she surrendered her phone.
Alicia dropped her cup to the table and said, “Hello?”
“I’m getting desperate here, Alicia. Please talk to me.”
Ahh, Jackson.
“Just a sec,” she told him, placing a hand over the phone and smiling at her sister, who was watching her like a shark. “I’m just gonna…” She pointed to the other side of the patio.
And once again she moved away to take the call. As she did so, Alicia wondered when they had become that couple that couldn’t even conduct a civil conversation in front of others.
After a few deep breaths, she placed the device back at her ear and said, “Hello, Liam.” Then, “Why didn’t you just call my phone?”
“Didn’t think you’d pick up.”
“Hey, I’m not the one acting evasive suddenly.”
“You’re right,” he said, apologising. “Look, it’s not what you think. It’s not personal. It’s got nothing to do with us… at least not directly. God, I’m botching this up.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’ve been hiding something from you.”
He said it with a whoosh, and Alicia stopped walking. She was now by the pool and found herself staring into it, her reflection gulping back at her, wide-eyed.
He’s having an affair, she realised suddenly. Him and DI Singh! They’ve been at it for years! My God, why hadn’t she noticed earlier? All those late nights, all those so-called homicides…
“It’s my boss,” he said, adding quickly, “Detective Chief Inspector Thompson.”
Her thoughts came to a grinding halt. “Sorry, what?”
“He’s… Well, after our last case together—the superyacht—he’s had the Conduct Commission on my case.”
“Hang on, what?”
“The Law Enforcement Conduct Commission, Alicia. It’s like Internal Affairs—the people who police the police. They’ve put me on desk duty until they finish investigating.”
“Investigating what?”
“Everything I guess. They said one case involving my girlfriend was bad enough but…”
“But… multiple cases?”
“Enter the LECC.”
“That’s ridiculous!” she shot back, then she turned to see the rest of the book club now staring across at her. She turned around and lowered her voice. “They can’t honestly think it’s anything other than a coincidence.”
“They’d be fools if they didn’t look into it though, right? I mean, even you have to admit, it’s freaky how often your club stumbles into the middle of homicides.”
“So they should be looking at us, not you.”
There was a long pause, then, “They are. That’s why I have to keep my distance this time. They think I’m aiding and abetting.”
Now she was gasping at her reflection. “You cannot be serious?”
“Alicia, it’s just standard procedure, maybe a bit of neurosis.”
“A bit…” She scoffed. “So, what? They think we’ve been quietly making all these murders happen, is that it? Then, what? Somehow managed to convince innocent people to confess to all of them? You do remember those confessions, don’t you? On the ship? At the outdoor cinema? Up at Lyle’s Lodge?”
“Actually, that’s the one that pricked their interest. It’s just that I wasn’t there for that confession, so… maybe…”
“Maybe we faked it? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, no, not me. The LECC. They think maybe it’s gone to your heads and you’re now orchestrating these homicides… as a form of… entertainment.”
“Entertainment!”
“Look, I know it’s bollocks. It’s the reason I never mentioned this earlier. They’ll see how insane it is, and it’ll blow over. But it’s why I have to keep my distance for now and why Singo showed up last night. I’m sorry.”
“How long have you known?”
“What?”
“You said it’s the reason you never mentioned this earlier. How long have we been under investigation?”
“Alicia—”
“Answer the question!”
He exhaled. “Three months.”
“Three months? And you never told me?”
“I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Well, didn’t that work a treat.”
“Alicia, listen—”
“No, Jackson, you listen to me. I thought we were honest with each other. I thought we were moving forward in this relationship. But this… It’s…” She exhaled loudly now. “It’s the most insane thing I’ve ever heard. And it’s worse than that; it makes me feel very, very alone.”
“But you’re not alone.”
“Really? So you’re going to come out here and stick by me are you?”
She waited a long minute, but he didn’t answer that, so she sniffed and said, “That’s what I thought.”
Then she hung up and stared glumly at herself in the pool, thinking, And now we’re the kind of couple who hang up without saying goodbye.
And that made her feel even sadder.
Chapter 17 ~ Where There’s a Will
“Hello! We’re back,” Ronnie called out as she and Hugh strode through the foyer and into the study where the book club were gathered again. After re-fuelling with cups of tea, they had returned inside and, unable to get anything out of Alicia—“I’m fine, please, just leave it!”—resumed their hypothesising.
But had come no closer to settling on any facts.
It was now three o’clock in the afternoon, and they greeted Ronnie with enthusiasm, eager for good news. Ronnie was not able to oblige them.
“That detective’s a fool,” she told them, the lines in her forehead now resembling an entire train network. “Silly woman’s blocked Seamus’s bail. Says he’s a flight risk or some nonsense. Says he’ll use my money to flee the country, like I’d ever conspire to that. Plus she’s got some explosive evidence that keeps him in the frame. Meanwhile, poor Seb is out there, God knows where, and she’s already pulled her officers off the property, like it’s case over!”
“What kind of evidence?” asked Alicia.
Ronnie snapped her lips shut and stared across to Hugh, who nodded encouragingly. Eventually she said, “They found the gun bag apparently. The one Bert carried his hunting rifle in. It’s usually kept in the observatory, but they insist they found it amongst Seamus’s belongings. Oh God, he’ll never get bail now.”
“Oh Ronnie…,” said Hugh, rubbing her back gently. He glanced at the group. “Have you found anything? Got any theories at all?”
Their eyes slid away, all except for Lynette’s. “Actually we do have a theory, it’s about the inheritance—”
“But we’ll discuss it with you later, Ronnie,” said Claire, frowning hard at Lynette as her head nodded towards Hugh.
Ronnie caught the nod and dropped her hand. “I have no secrets from Hugh. What do you mean by that, Lynette? Are you asking who inherits? Is there an angle there?”
“Maybe,” she replied.
“I’m happy to leave you to it,” said Hugh.
“No, please stay, Hugh. I promised you a drink, and I’ll jolly well get you one. In fact, why don’t we adjourn to the parlour? I think we could all do with a stiff one.”
They made their way out and across the Gothic foyer just as a short, plump woman appeared from the kitchen, wearing a simple black dress. It was Ronnie’s Balmain housekeeper, Rosa Moretti, who had met the group previously when Ronnie hosted book club.
“Ah Rosa,” said Ronnie, grasping her hands tightly. “Thank you so much for coming.”
Rosa nodded furiously. “It is crazy madness, Mrs Veronica. I cannot believe what has happened. I am so sad I was not here for you.”
“No, no, you mustn’t. You deserved the night off. Besides, I have Hugh and my book club.”
