‘It was on the radio earlier on. I was in the car. Would you do it?’
In a strange way that was what did it – the fact that they had been listening to the same song at the same time. Not that Lillie-Lysander had ever thought of saying no. Thou shall not serve alien gods. Yes, quite. ‘I will think about it,’ he said.
10
Cul-de-Sac
‘Now, why should she want to make herself look like Beatrice?’
‘Why indeed, my love. These are deep waters. The Bafflement of the Bogus Blonde. The Puzzle of the Peroxide Peruke. More Chesterton than Conan Doyle, wouldn’t you say?’ Major Payne put a thoughtful match to his pipe. ‘I did tell you we always met unhinged people, didn’t I? A prophecy fulfilled.’
‘Do we always meet unhinged people?’
‘We most certainly do. There’s something about us. I don’t know what it is. We seem to act as a magnet for mad-men – and madwomen. Think Dufrette, think Eleanor Merchant, think Colonel Mallard -’
Antonia pointed out that they had never actually met Colonel Mallard. Colonel Mallard had been dead for sixty years when they first heard about him.
‘But we were told so much about him, we felt we knew him. And now Ingrid Delmar. Glazed of eye, ascending the stairs bizarrely bedecked in a blonde wig, sporting gloves as black as her soul, a moth-eaten mink coat coquettishly draped round her shoulders. A chilling sight. Out flew the web and floated wide – the curse has come upon me, cried the Lady of Shalott,’ Major Payne recited between puffs. ‘Sorry. Couldn’t resist it.’
‘Ingrid used to burn herself with steam irons claiming it offered her relief from tension. I can’t believe Beatrice stuck with her for thirty years.’ Antonia shook her head.
‘A prophecy fulfilled… Damned good coffee, this. Pour me some more, would you, my love?’
Beatrice had persuaded them to take a thermos flask of black coffee for their journey home – as well as a packet of ham sandwiches wrapped in a moist napkin and two pieces of chocolate orange cake. Beatrice had insisted they needed to keep up their strength. They might have been members of an expedition returning from the North Pole or some such place.
They were sitting inside the car further down the road from Millbrook House. It was a beautiful evening, and a full pale moon glowing in the sky like a silver florin. They had said goodbye to Colville and Beatrice, but for some reason felt reluctant to drive off. It was almost as though they expected something to happen…
Antonia kept glancing back towards the house. The light had come on in a first-floor window and she imagined she caught a glimpse of Ingrid’s silhouette outlined momentarily against the curtain. Ingrid appeared to be shaking her head and gesticulating agitatedly. There was something extremely theatrical about the whole set-up, Payne agreed. The unnerved newly-weds downstairs, the loon in the blonde wig upstairs. Beatrice had been strongly opposed to the idea of involving the police… Colville didn’t believe Ingrid had heard him when he went out into the hall. Ingrid hadn’t so much as glanced in his direction. She had stared straight ahead of her and moved like one in a trance. Surely, that suggested that she had heard Beatrice’s admission of guilt and been stunned by it? What would happen when the shock was over?
‘Beatrice might be in danger. Colville too,’ said Antonia. ‘Ingrid hates them both. She wouldn’t try to slit their throats as they sleep, would she?’
‘Or do a Mrs Danvers, set the house on fire and dance among the flames. Well, let’s hope not.’
‘At what point does a maniac become a homicidal maniac?’
‘Difficult to say, my love. Beatrice’s confession tonight might have managed to unzip Ingrid’s already shaky grip on sanity.’
‘I do think we should inform the police, Hugh.’
‘You heard what Beatrice said. No police. Beatrice doesn’t want to “snitch” on Ingrid, silly woman.’
‘Silly woman,’ Antonia agreed with greater emphasis than she intended.
Colville had been confident he could keep the situation under control. Colville said he was capable of taking good care of Beatrice. He said that he wouldn’t hesitate to ring 999 the moment he felt Ingrid might be ‘up to something’. Colville might be besotted with la bella Bee, Payne pointed out, but he wouldn’t stand any nonsense from Ingrid. Colville had confided in Payne on parting that he’d be damned if he did.
‘That’s reassuring,’ Antonia said in a doubtful voice. ‘I wouldn’t dream of sleeping under the same roof as Ingrid – would you?’
‘Not for all the tea in China.’
‘Where does Ingrid go dressed up as Beatrice?’ Antonia wondered aloud, looking out into the darkness. ‘You heard what Beatrice said. Ingrid’s been slipping out without a word quite often lately.’
‘I don’t imagine she goes for country walks or to the cinema or window-shopping, or merely roams aimlessly.’ Major Payne stroked his jaw with his forefinger. ‘I think she goes to… Ospreys.’
‘To Ospreys! You mean she knows that Ralph Renshawe lives there?’
‘I think she does, yes.’
‘How did she learn about it? No, don’t tell me. She read his letter to Beatrice. I saw you looking at that envelope.’ Antonia paused. ‘It’s been tampered with, hasn’t it?’
‘Steamed open. There was smearing around the flap and it felt thicker – glue had been used to reseal it,’ Major Payne explained.
He hadn’t mentioned the fact in front of Beatrice. Beatrice had been in a state of near-collapse. She had flapped her hands and babbled about ancient beliefs – wasn’t it said that encountering your double was a prelude to death? Beatrice had felt so faint, she had lain on the sofa, where she had remained, among the silk cushions, rather picturesquely, looking like an odalisque.
‘Here’s a theory.’ Major Payne cleared his throat. ‘Ingrid’s love for Beatrice turns to darkest detestation at the news of her friend’s nuptials. Ingrid accuses Bee of “betrayal”. Renshawe’s fate has already been sealed. Ingrid concocts an ingenious scheme. Kill Renshawe and have Beatrice arrested for the murder.’
‘Double revenge?’
‘Double revenge. Ingrid goes to Ospreys dressed up as Beatrice. Renshawe is delighted. He suspects nothing. It has been thirty years since he saw Beatrice last, besides he is a very ill man, all his faculties greatly diminished. Ingrid lets the nurse and whoever else is at the house take a good look at her. She tells them she is practically a neighbour. She makes sure they learn her name and address – Beatrice Ardleigh – Millbrook House.’
‘Could she really believe she’d be able to get away with it?’
‘I am sure she could. She is crackers. Her brain must be as valuable as a cap full of porridge. She is probably convinced she has been diabolically clever.’
There was a pause. Antonia said, ‘You don’t suppose she has killed Ralph Renshawe yet?’
‘I don’t know. She might have.’ Payne puffed pensively at his pipe. ‘How about checking?’
‘Do you mean we should phone Ralph?’
‘The matter is too complicated for phoning. Um. I suggest we drive to Ospreys.’
Antonia stared at him. ‘Now?’
‘Now. Why not? Ospreys is apparently only five miles from here. It will take us twenty minutes at the most.’
‘What shall we say when we get there?’
‘We’ll ask to speak to Renshawe – if he is still alive, we’ll warn him of the danger – we’ll tell him that the Beatrice who’s been visiting him is in fact Ingrid. If he is not well enough to grant us an audience, we’ll have a word with the nurse, the padre or whoever’s taking care of him.’
Antonia said, ‘If Ingrid has been visiting him, but hasn’t killed him yet, it would be interesting to know why… Is it possible that she has forgiven him?’
‘I wouldn’t have thought it terribly likely – not from what Beatrice told us, but who could tell? Anything is possible. Ingrid might be biding her time. Or she might not have had the chance to be alone with him.’
‘Or she might be getting a kick out of watching him die?’