‘But, from what I know of Eliza’s will, there was no mention of Miss Potter in it,’ said Marius. ‘All I learned was that the money and property were to be divided among Ransome, Miss Crimp and myself.’
‘She may have made a new will,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘Testators are known to do that without reference to former or subsequent beneficiaries.’
‘I wonder how soon Miss Potter got to know about Eliza Chayleigh’s death, though,’ said Laura. ‘News travels slowly from Great Skua.’
‘There is such an object as Dimbleton’s fast motorboat,’ said Margaret.
‘And a trip the farmer and his wife took on it,’ said Sebastian. ‘Weren’t they away from the island rather longer than was expected?’
‘But that means they knew Miss Potter,’ said Laura.
‘Yes, they could have done,’ said Marius. ‘We know that Miss Potter and Cousin Marie visited Great Skua last summer. And there is something else which perhaps I should mention, since Eliza’s will has been questioned. It seems that, at her death, a reasonably substantial sum of money was to come to me under the will of our parents. It was to be held in trust for Eliza until she married, but, if she did not marry, it was to come to me and I am expecting to get it as soon as her affairs (which appear to be in some disorder) can be settled and her debts paid.’
‘And you are certain that she did not marry?’ asked Dame Beatrice. ‘A marriage, as you must know, would make any former will invalid.’
‘She did marry,’ said Clothilde, in a very subdued tone. ‘At least, I know she intended to, so I suppose she did.’
‘What!’ exclaimed Marius.
‘That is why I was prepared to throw myself on her mercy. I thought she would get the money.’
‘But what on earth makes you think she married, my dear?’
‘She wrote to me. I did not show you the letter because I knew how disappointed you would be not to get the money, but it seemed to me certain that she fully intended to marry and that it would be a fait accompli long before you and the children got there. I must say, in fairness, that it wasn’t a gloating, nasty letter, but it was rather a triumphant one. She put at the end of it: You may break the news to my brother Marius if you wish, but I would prefer to tell him myself now that he is bringing the children to see me in July. It came so near the end of term, when you were busy marking the students’ papers, that I didn’t bother you with it.’
‘Well, there is one good thing about it, Mrs Lovelaine,’ said Laura bluntly. ‘If you knew there was no money in it for you, you can’t be suspected of having had any hand in causing Mrs Chayleigh’s death.’
‘But who on earth could she have married?’ asked Marius. ‘There was nobody on the island who would have been suitable.’
‘Except J. Dimbleton, boatman, perhaps,’ suggested Laura. ‘I always thought it was a bit fishy that he had money enough to buy himself a place in the syndicate.’
‘But Eliza would have disapproved strongly of the smuggling!’ said Marius. ‘Was not that her reason for wanting to visit the mainland, even though she knew how busy the hotel would be when all those ornithologists turned up?’
‘We don’t know why she wanted to go over to the mainland,’ said Laura, ‘but if the hotel was in debt, and if Crimp, as partner, was turning nasty about it, Mrs Chayleigh may have decided on any port in a storm and married Dimbleton in order to get the money your parents left in trust for her.’
‘I doubt very much whether she did marry,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘Surely the news would have leaked out? Ransome seems to have made no mention of it to Sebastian and Margaret. Apart from that, Dimbleton himself would hardly have kept it a secret if he expected to gain by it. I think you will find that his part in the smugglers’ syndicate was bought out of his own savings.’
‘So my journey to Great Skua would have been all in vain, even had Eliza been alive?’ asked Clothilde.
‘Oh, Boobie! Well art thou named!’ exclaimed her son.
‘Oh, don’t repeat yourself!’ said his mother crossly.
‘Well,’ said Laura’s husband, when next he saw Dame Beatrice and his wife, ‘armed with your information our fellows got busy and Miss Crimp and Dimbleton are now in custody. They are being held on a charge of smuggling weapons. We can’t pin anything else on either of them at present, although I’d like to get Miss Crimp on a capital charge. She’s vindictive, which Dimbleton is not, although I’m sure he helped to dispose of the body.’
‘But they didn’t dispose of it,’ said Laura. ‘It was caught up in those rocks outside the witches’ cave. Dimbleton knows those waters well. He wouldn’t have pitched the body in unless he was sure it would be carried right out to sea. I think you’ve got the wrong pig by the ear. What has he to say for himself?’
‘Denies that he had any hand in it at all, as I said. Confesses to helping the gun-runners and says that three of them (whose names he refuses to divulge) were responsible for punishing Ransome Lovelaine because they believed him to be an informer…’
‘To whom, though?’ asked Laura.
‘To Sebastian and Margaret. They regarded that friendship as suspicious. Ransome and his father knew all about the gun-running, as did everybody else on the island, including Miss Crimp, who, as you yourself suspected, was in it up to the neck.’
‘But Ransome and Allen Cranby were not involved, were they?’
‘No, they were known to disapprove of it.’
‘Did the smugglers really intend Ransome to drown?’
‘He himself says not. They merely intended to frighten him. It was Allen Cranby who confessed, as you know, to attacking Marius Lovelaine when he left Puffins that night.’
‘Why on earth did he do it, though?’
‘He has nursed a grudge against the Lovelaines ever since Eliza was turned out by her parents. He also tried to force his way into the children’s chalet with the intention of beating up Sebastian.’
‘But the kids and their father were entirely innocent parties,’ protested Laura.
‘Yes, he admits that his ideas weren’t rational, but that Eliza’s death had triggered off his resentment of the way her family had treated her.’
‘What about the red-paint slogans on the gravestones and the Devil’s ladder Sebastian saw in the church tower? He told me about that when we were bathing one morning,’ said Laura.
‘Oh, that was the church cleaner herself. She wasn’t quite such a white witch as she made herself out to be.’
‘So all the abysmal Potter did was to deface the headstone of Gwendolyne Chayleigh and the other Chayleigh ancestors.’
‘Yes, and last year, at that. We’ve been to see the Lovelaines’ cousin and (upset and resentful as she is over losing her friend from whom she had hoped to gain so much) she is adamant that Miss Potter did not leave the cottage until the Saturday morning after Eliza died.’
‘I did not think, for that reason, that she could have had any hand in Eliza’s death,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘I still think you should look closely at the farmer’s wife as Miss Crimp’s accomplice in the murder.’
‘Yes, but why?’
‘I think a long-standing grudge, fed by Miss Crimp, may have flared up, you know. Such things do happen.’
‘After thirty years?’ asked Gavin, doubtfully.
‘I think so. Left to herself, I doubt whether Ruth Cranby would ever have taken any action. From what I know of her, she is a remarkably placid woman. But old resentments burn deep, and there was always Ransome to remind her that, whereas Eliza, in her busy and headstrong way, had borne Allen Cranby a son, she herself was childless.’ .
‘But this is nothing but surmise, Dame B. You haven’t really anything to go on.’