She turned back to Jane and waved her handkerchief.
‘The house was consumed with his rage. He physically whipped poor Mikhail and threw him out. My mother was tormented, begging and praying for him to leave Mikhail alone.’
Jane watched, fascinated, as Beatrice stood up and again waved her handkerchief dramatically in the air. ‘My mother threatened to throw herself down the stairs, or poison herself. She was a better actress than Sarah Bernhardt. But when father turned on her, she spat and kicked at him like a wild cat. My father was a devious, wicked man. He was able — because of his knowledge of the print business — to alter documents and birth certificates. My mother, for example, was too young to have been married...’
‘Mother, for God’s sake there is no need to go into that,’ Jason interjected.
‘Go into what? You have no idea what my life was like. You have no idea how my heart was broken.’
It was quite extraordinary to witness the way Beatrice had become so theatrical. It was as though the relief of her confessions had energised her.
‘I just have one more question, Mrs Thorpe,’ Jane said. ‘From what you told me, I’m wondering if inappropriate sexual behaviour occurred in your father’s darkroom.’ She hesitated before continuing. ‘Was Marjorie’s baby a result of an incestuous relationship with your father?’
Beatrice’s legs buckled under her as she screamed, ‘No, no, no!’
Jason ran to the archway and shouted for Tina, returning quickly to his mother to help her stand. She was sobbing uncontrollably and seemed almost to be having some kind of fit.
Tim stood up, shocked. Jane closed her notebook and also moved towards the panic-stricken Jason, who held on to Beatrice as she thrashed her arms and foamed at the mouth.
Tina, accompanied by the stocky man who had been pushing Matthew in a wheelchair, hurried into the room. They immediately appeared to know what to do, carrying her between them to lay her down on the sofa. Jason pointed a finger at Jane.
‘You had better get out of my house now,’ he barked. He grabbed hold of Jane’s arm just as she was trying to put the envelope with the photos into her bag. Tim stepped forward.
‘There is no need for that, sir.’
Jane jerked her arm free. ‘Do not touch me, Mr Thorpe. I am very sorry for your mother’s distress.’ But Jason maintained his tight grip, dragging Jane out of the room and into the hall. He was white with rage.
‘Are you satisfied now? I told you my mother was not well, yet you have not stopped interrogating her, even insinuating that she had something to do with the death of that baby.’
As she had been taught to do, Jane took deep breaths to regain her control.
Jason opened the door. ‘I hope you now realise this is over!’
‘Not quite yet, Mr Thorpe,’ Jane said, regaining her composure. ‘If you and your mother are planning to be in London for your aunt’s funeral, I will require her to make a statement at the station. However, if she is unable to make the journey to London, then I will require written confirmation of what she has told me today.’
Jason pushed his face close to Jane, almost spitting with rage.
‘You will get what you want, detective, but I hope to Christ it will then be over.’
Jane stepped back, almost knocking into Tim who was hovering protectively behind her.
‘It won’t quite be over, Mr Thorpe. I will keep you informed regarding an autopsy on Helena Lanark, and on my return to London I will be making a report detailing my suspicions that your aunt’s necklace was stolen.’
Jason stepped back. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
‘You were the last person to see your aunt alive, Mr Thorpe, and her pearl necklace has not been recovered.’
Jane turned to Tim. ‘Detective Constable Taylor will bring my bag.’ Jane walked out, taking a deep breath to calm herself.
Tim joined her shortly afterwards, carrying their luggage. The front door slammed shut behind him.
‘I wouldn’t be too concerned about her, ma’am. She was sitting up and asking for a gin and tonic when I left.’
‘My God, she can put on a show! But at least I can now confirm exactly what happened in that shelter. And you saw what a nasty piece of work Jason Thorpe is. I am no way finished with him.’
As they walked down towards the ferry, Jane suddenly stopped. ‘Damn! I left the photographs. I was just putting them in my bag when he started manhandling me.’
‘Don’t worry.’ Tim grinned. ‘When he hauled you away, I snatched them up and snuck them into my rucksack.’
Jane couldn’t help laughing. ‘Well done, Tim. Still,’ she added more seriously, ‘best we keep it between ourselves. Hopefully Jason won’t be going into the boathouse any time soon, and if he does, we replaced all the boxes where we found them.’
Tim nodded. ‘Whatever you say, ma’am.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
After a long time getting through Customs at Heathrow, Jane and Tim eventually climbed into a black cab to take them back into London. They were both exhausted and Jane suggested that they take what was left of the day off and be at the station fresh on Tuesday morning.
After dropping Tim at a convenient Underground station, Jane got back home just after four and couldn’t wait to have a long soak in her new bathtub. Although she hadn’t had time to think about Eddie much in Australia, she now found herself looking forward to seeing him again. She had promised to contact him when she landed, so that he could collect her, but she had decided that she just wanted to get home as quickly as possible.
Stepping out of the cab, Jane was dismayed to see her front door was wide open, and to hear the noise of the various different radio channels blasting out into the street. But she forgot her annoyance as soon as she walked into her hallway. The new wallpaper was up, the floorboards had been sanded and varnished and the stair banisters were gleaming with a coat of white gloss.
Eddie hurtled down the stairs. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to call!’ he said, taking her in his arms.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jane said. ‘The flight was an hour late taking off and we were delayed in Customs, so we just got into a taxi.’ She held him at arm’s length. ‘I can’t believe all this... it looks incredible.’
Eddie beamed with delight. ‘Wait till you see the sitting room. We’ve been working around the clock to get as much done as possible. You might want to start looking at getting some new furniture now!’
True to his word, Eddie and his team had done a remarkable job. As he led her from room to room, Jane ran out of compliments.
‘Do you feel like going out for dinner?’ Eddie asked.
‘I would really love that, Eddie, but to be honest we were booked into the most ghastly, seedy hotel and I didn’t even have time for a decent shower... the communal bathroom was pretty disgusting... and I’ve got a thumping headache from the journey and everything.’
‘OK, how about I make you a cup of tea?’ he asked.
Jane really just wanted to have that longed-for bath, but he was so eager to please her that she agreed, relieved when he turned off the radio that had been left on in the kitchen.
After Eddie’s team left, she told him as much as she thought would interest him about her trip to Australia, but her eyelids were soon drooping with weariness.
‘Listen, you go up and have a bath,’ Eddie said, seeing the state of her. ‘I’ll clear up in the kitchen and maybe we can get together tomorrow night instead? The lads and I have a lot of snagging to do, and we still have to finish your second bedroom.’
Eddie had taken her overnight bag up to her bedroom which, despite the strong smell of fresh paint, was looking amazing. Jane now regretted that she hadn’t even considered buying Eddie a bottle of scotch in duty-free.