Gemma Beresford
Like having poor Ellery killed. How could he do that? That was disgusting!
It was Andrew’s idea to have the second meeting and he was absolutely right. Tom had put up with more than enough. We all had! We had to get together and work something out. That man was going to drive us all mad if we didn’t take some sort of action. None of us could have known what was going to happen. I still don’t quite understand how things turned out the way they did, but we didn’t have any ill intentions. That’s what we have to remember. We were there to look after each other. That’s all. We were just being good neighbours.
Andrew Pennington
Was the meeting my idea? I’m not sure. It came up in conversation with Adam and Teri. Does it really matter? I’m not trying to evade responsibility. Far from it!
There must be a word for it when a group of people, normally quite sane and sensible, have a sort of collective breakdown – that’s how I see it. I’m not for a moment suggesting that Giles Kenworthy deserved what happened to him, but it’s unarguable that he pushed us all over the edge. Some of us were beginning to think that we would have to sell our homes and leave Riverview Close – although that in itself might be problematic because, as I pointed out several times, we would have been obliged to fill in a Property Information Form highlighting our relationship with the Kenworthys and that would have been enough to put any buyer off.
The second meeting took place at The Stables on a Sunday evening – eight days ago. The aim was to explore possibilities, to see if we could find a way out of the situation in which we found ourselves. I was the first to speak once everyone had arrived and I must confess that I didn’t have a great deal to offer. Property law isn’t my speciality and as far as I could see we had limited options.
Riverview Close is controlled by a management company, Riverview Close Ltd, of which I am currently the chairperson. We all have shares and the idea is that, together, we take responsibility for supervision and maintenance, insurance, repairs and antisocial behaviour – although it’s never an easy matter, defining what antisocial behaviour is. The Kenworthys had parties. Their children did a certain amount of damage. There were parking problems. But what could we do? At the end of the day, threatening Giles Kenworthy with legal action might only have exacerbated the issues and could have led to ruinous expenses. Who had the bigger pockets? It was probably him.
And then there was the overarching question of the swimming pool – but this was a matter between the Kenworthys and the local council. Unfortunately, there was a limit to what we could do as we were no more than third parties. The management company had little room for manoeuvre. We could suggest to the council that they had failed to consider the impact of a swimming pool on neighbouring properties, especially given Felicity Browne’s illness. But once planning permission has been given, it’s always very difficult to turn it around.
That’s really what we wanted to talk about, but at the same time I have to admit that we all had rather too much to drink. That’s down to Adam’s generosity, although I also brought wine and so, I think, did May . . .
May Winslow
I brought vodka. I didn’t think for a minute that it was going to be a knees-up. Nor would I have wanted such a thing. But after what had happened with Ellery, I needed something to keep up my spirits. We were all upset. And if I may say so, without wishing to be rude to Mrs Strauss, I did think there would be a little more food.
Anyway, we all sat down and we talked about Giles Kenworthy and what we were going to do and somehow the conversation turned to murder.
Adam Strauss
We didn’t mean it seriously! We were just letting off steam! I can’t even remember who started it, but I’m pretty sure it was Roderick. Or Phyllis, talking about the bookshop. It’s hardly surprising when you’ve got two ladies with a whole library of golden age crime. ‘Why don’t we just kill him?’ I’m sure it was Phyllis who started it.
Phyllis Moore
That’s not true.
Adam Strauss
I’m not making accusations. It might have been Roderick. But whoever it was, they didn’t mean it. We’d all had a bit too much to drink, that’s all. He was joking!
Tom Beresford
Roderick didn’t say it. I did.
It was stupid and for what it’s worth, Gemma did try to stop me. Looking after me has become a full-time job for her and don’t think I don’t know it. I said we should kill him and then we all took it in turns suggesting different ways. I started. My idea was to inject a couple of mill of air into his pulmonary veins and hope it would find a way into his cerebral circulation. May suggested cyanide. Do you remember? She said it turns up in lots of crime novels. Teri said she could buy a herb called heartbreak grass in a Hong Kong market. Even Gemma joined in. She talked about doll’s eyes, another poisonous plant. And Andrew was all for pushing him off the roof of a tall building. Oh yes, it was a jolly little evening.
Roderick didn’t hold back. If anything he was more enthusiastic than anyone else, and I’m sure every one of us here remembers what he said. How could we forget? He reminded us that he had a crossbow in his garage. Do you remember what he said? ‘It would be easy. Just ring the front doorbell and put a bolt in him when he answers.’
Teri Strauss
And then Phyllis said – why don’t we all do it together!
Phyllis Moore
It was me. Yes. Of course, it was Agatha Christie who gave me the idea. It was that book where all the suspects do the murder and then afterwards they look after each other. They give each other alibis and things like that. You know the one I mean! It’s been filmed twice and David Suchet did it on television. I do love David Suchet! I don’t think anyone did Poirot better than him. And here’s the funny thing. By coincidence, we’d sold two copies of that very same book that week. Two different people! That probably explains why it was on my mind.
I said we should shoot a bolt into him, each and every one of us. Turn him into a pincushion! That’s what I said.
Andrew Pennington
In retrospect, there was something very strange and psychological going on in that room. Almost a mass hysteria. The idea took hold of us. We were laughing, but at the same time we were saying the most dreadful things. How would we do it? When would we do it? How would we get away with it? I think the situation we were facing – the anger we all felt – had no solution in reality and so we moved into the world of fantasy to hold ourselves together.
Do you understand what I’m saying? Nobody in the room was seriously considering murder. But we were finding some sort of psychological release by expressing it.
Gemma Beresford
There’s not a single person in the world who hasn’t dreamed of killing an unpleasant boss, an irritating husband, a mean teacher, a lying politician. We were just doing the same. But we were doing it out loud.
We all agreed to kill him. And then someone asked the obvious question. Who was going to do it?
Hawthorne
So you drew straws.
May Winslow
You really are very clever, Mr Hawthorne. I don’t know how you worked that out. But you’re right. We talked about playing cards – making the ace of spades the death card. Or throwing a dice. Party games! I used to play something similar with my parents when I was a little girl. We’d sit around the table and we’d choose a killer by drawing matchsticks – and then whoever was the killer had to wink at you, but he had to do it without being seen and the idea was that he’d go on until either someone guessed who it was or there was no one left.