Jude was interested to hear how closely Storm’s assessment of Ritchie Good’s acting skills matched that of Neville Prideaux. And Storm’s was more objective; she wasn’t motivated by jealousy.
‘What do you think killed him?’ asked Jude, in a manner that was meant, but failed, to sound casual.
‘Well, obviously, strangulation by the noose round his neck.’
‘Yes, but why did it happen?’
‘An accident. He and Gordon must’ve been doing some adjustment to the gallows and unfortunately—’
‘Gordon wasn’t there. He was in the group that came straight over to the Cricketers at the same time as I did.’
‘Oh well, Ritchie may have just been fiddling about with it.’
Storm seemed so remarkably incurious about the circumstances of the death that Jude didn’t feel inclined to raise suspicions by asking further questions. Instead she said, ‘The police want me to make a statement for them tomorrow. Have you got to do the same?’
‘No, they just took my address and mobile number. Said they might be in touch, but didn’t make it sound very likely.’ There was a silence, then Storm said, ‘Hester looked in a pretty bad way, didn’t she?’
‘Yes. So far as I could work out, she’d found Ritchie’s body just before I had. She was in a terrible state of shock.’
‘Hm. And she started off pretty neurotic, didn’t she?’
‘Is that the impression she gave?’ asked Jude, surprised at her friend’s powers of observation. Then she reminded herself that Storm was also a healer, used to analysing the sufferings of her clients.
‘No, on the surface she was fine, but I did get the impression that she was very tense, holding a lot in.’
‘Yes, I felt that too.’
‘So,’ said Storm, ‘if Hester doesn’t recover, we’ll be short of a prompter. And, judging from this afternoon’s display, just when her services will be most in demand.’
‘Oh, surely there are lots of SADOS members around who could do that?’
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But a lot of the potential prompters, mature ladies who’re unlikely to be cast in plays any more … well, they’re part of the contingent that walked out with Elizaveta Dalrymple.’
‘And might they not be lured back?’
‘Oh, Good Lord, no. Not until The Devil’s Disciple boycott is complete. Anyone who breaks through the picket line on that will receive the full blast of Elizaveta’s anger.’
‘I’m surprised that would worry anyone. I got the impression that she was rather a spent force in the SADOS.’
‘A spent force she may be, but there are still a lot of members terrified of getting the wrong side of her. They might be excluded from the guest list for her famous “drinkies things”.’
‘Oh dear. Well, maybe Hester will make a full recovery and no replacement prompter will be needed.’ But as she said the words, Jude wasn’t feeling as positive as she sounded. After all, what Hester Winstone had said to her in the Green Room could have been interpreted as a confession to murder. Whose consequences could make her unavailable for Devil’s Disciple rehearsals, as well as many other areas of her life.
‘Anyway, if Hester is ruled out,’ said Storm, ‘you wouldn’t by any chance have a friend who might step into the breach as prompter, would you?’
Jude could hardly prevent herself from giggling at the thought, as she replied, ‘Yes, you know, I think I might.’
FOURTEEN
On the Monday, by arrangement, the police had come to Jude’s home to take her statement. She had described to the best of her recollection exactly what she had witnessed the previous day at St Mary’s Hall. She had told the truth, but not quite the whole truth, omitting to report Hester Winstone’s words about the death being her fault. Jude had glossed over that, saying that Hester was too hysterical to say anything coherent.
Her motives for telling the lie were instinctive and benign. She recognized Hester’s mental fragility and didn’t want to get her into any more trouble than she already was.
But she decided not to tell her neighbour what she’d done. Perhaps because of her Home Office background, Carole strongly disapproved of lying to the police.
Now that there was a corpse involved, Carole Seddon suddenly found the doings of SADOS a lot more interesting. Her voice was full of suppressed excitement as she asked, ‘You say Ritchie Good was hanged, Jude? Was his neck broken?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Then it would have been a very painful death.’
‘Oh?’
‘Humane hangmen usually arrange it so that the force of the drop breaks the victim’s neck. Then death – or at least unconsciousness – is more or less instantaneous. If the neck isn’t broken, the victim dies slowly of strangulation. It can take ten – or in some cases up to twenty – minutes. Pretty nasty way to go.’
Jude looked at her friend in surprise. ‘Is that something you learned at the Home Office? I know there was a lot of back-stabbing there; I didn’t know they went in for strangulation too.’
‘Ha, ha, very funny. No, it’s just information I picked up,’ Carole replied airily. She had an increasing interest in the mechanics of crime, and had started filling directories on her laptop with the fruits of her research on the subject. But it was not a hobby she ever talked about, even to Jude.
It was the Tuesday, two days after Ritchie Good’s death. They were having coffee at Woodside Cottage. The two women hadn’t seen each other for a few days. Carole’s daughter-in-law Gaby had been struck down at the weekend by a particularly nasty bout of a sickness bug and Granny had been summoned to the rescue in their house in Fulham. Since Carole absolutely worshipped her granddaughter Lily, this was no hardship for her. And with Gaby confined to bed, she even got over her customary unease at staying anywhere other than High Tor. She had taken Gulliver with her, and she was much entertained by the bonding between dog and granddaughter.
Because of her absence from Fethering till the Tuesday afternoon, this was the first Carole had heard about the death in St Mary’s Hall. Jude recognized the sparkle of interest in her pale-blue eyes as she asked, ‘So do you reckon that this Ritchie Good person was murdered?’
‘I really don’t know. It’s an odd one. I’ve been going through the facts, revisualizing everything I saw on Sunday night. And it strikes me there are two major questions that need asking. First, who switched the safe noose with the Velcro joint in it for the real, unbroken one? And, second, why on earth did Ritchie allow the noose to be put around his neck?’
‘Are you sure he didn’t put it there himself?’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘To commit suicide. Come on, you saw more of him than I did, Jude. I just exchanged a few words with him in the Cricketers. Did anything he said to you make you think he might have depressive tendencies?’
‘Absolutely not. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man so armoured in self-esteem as Ritchie Good. He wouldn’t want to deny the world the pleasure of his company. He would have regarded that as a terrible deprivation for everyone else on the planet. No, what happened to him is a complete mystery.’
‘Intriguing, though,’ said Carole, and behind their rimless glasses there was even more sparkle in her pale-blue eyes.
‘Hello, Mike Winstone.’ The voice answering Jude’s call had its bonhomie firmly fixed in place.
‘Hello, it’s Jude. Remember, you came round with the champagne to say thank you …?’