“Go on! Keep talking this through, Mrs. H,” she prodded. She’d had her moment of glory and was prepared to let me try for mine.
“This is the overlapping part. Someone unconnected with Mr. Gallagher’s disappearance decided to use Betty’s belief that he had been murdered to facilitate her death.”
“Who’d want to kill her?” Ben asked sharply.
“I hate to say it,” said Mrs. Malloy, “but the name that pops up in my mind is Ariel. And there was me getting so fond of her.” Ducking her black-and-white head, she searched her dress pocket for a hanky.
“It was she who arranged the séance. And Ben”-I took a deeper sip of brandy-“there is something I haven’t told you about that. The Madam LaGrange we saw was an imposter.” I explained how Mrs. Malloy had failed to recognize the woman getting into the taxi.
“Ellie, I understand why you didn’t tell me.” He stood up, took a couple of paces, and sat back down. “We were at odds with each other. But why the switch?”
“To manipulate Betty into going into that priest hole when the time came. The garden party was the perfect opportunity. People milling about in the grounds, general confusion: what were the chances of her being missed until it was too late?”
Mrs. Malloy produced the hanky again.
“Not Ariel,” I reassured her. “We’re not dealing with the Bad Seed here.”
“Tom?” Ben’s expression was grim.
“His first wife died in a car accident,” said Mrs. Malloy, “and that can’t be that hard to arrange, especially for someone as handy with tools as Tom. Ariel said he had recently been working in the west wing.”
“Not him either.” I shook my head. “None of the Hopkinses has a good way of showing it, but deep down I believe they’re fond of one another. This could be just the wake-up call Tom has needed ever since Val showed up at Cragstone House. I’m wondering if he’s had his suspicions.”
“About her really being in love with Mr. H here all the time?” Mrs. Malloy was making matters worse for her face with the hanky.
“What?” Ben was shocked into shouting out the word.
“Don’t worry, darling,” I said, “I’m not going to let her get you. My supposition is that was a smoke screen. Val, as you’re aware, turned up here shortly after the Hopkinses moved into Cragstone. She must have read about their winning the lottery in the newspapers. And whatever it took, she was going to get her hands on that lovely money. I think she was speaking the truth when she told me she wasn’t devastated when Tom broke off their engagement. She probably has a knack for mixing fact with fiction. It makes what she says sound credible, although I could kick myself now for so gullibly accepting her misty-eyed performance. Her main problem in getting her hands on Tom and the lottery winnings is that he takes his Catholicism seriously. He’d never marry her while Betty lived.”
“Agreed. Divorce for him isn’t an option.” Ben again got up and paced around the furniture with his hands in his pockets, a clear sign that he was endeavoring forcibly to master his emotions.
“Val had to realize that when a wife is murdered the husband is the prime suspect, and Tom might not be keen to remarry if he was in prison. And there was the added complication of his first wife having died in an accident. This death had to appear to be Betty’s own fault, a classic case of curiosity killed the cat. I think what gave Val the idea was hearing about the lights that went on and off by themselves and the front door being found open in the morning. Faulty wiring and carelessness? Or could it be blamed on an uneasy spirit, especially given Betty’s belief that Lady Fiona had murdered her husband? You were another piece of luck, Ben. She saw your look of stunned surprise when she walked in. And right from the first, she played her scenes with you to great dramatic effect. Lady Fiona thought there was something between the two of you-and, yes, even I did for a while. And when she confessed her feelings for you to me so frankly in the garden, she raised her voice so the audience would be sure to hear.”
“Me, that was,” Mrs. Malloy explained to Ben. “The wicked vixen made sure I didn’t miss a syllable.”
“Insurance against its being said that there was something going on between her and Tom before Betty’s death. While all the time her aim was to do everything in her power to undermine the Hopkinses’ marriage. Causing Tom to realize what a mistake he had made in allowing his parents to part him from the woman he should have married in the first place.
“She already had set the action up for today,” I went on. “Who else but Val would have made that phone call canceling the caterers? Betty would look totally inadequate when Val took over the job, as she would have done had Ben not saved the day. That’s been her mode of operation ever since she arrived at the Dower House, eroding Betty’s self-esteem, taking over the redecorating, and talking her into buying badly fitting clothes. The stunts she pulled-the dead birds, the wreath, and the deluge in the conservatory were all geared to one end. Val trusted in Betty’s need to prove herself as a detective, if not an ideal wife or stepmother, to get her into the priest hole. But she was too clever to risk handing her that egg and spoon herself.”
“So who helped out with that?”
“Very likely the one whose recorded image, as Mr. Gallagher, with the lion’s head walking stick, appeared on Betty’s bedroom wall. And whose shivery voice begged her to rescue him from the dark place. This she took to mean the grave Lady Fiona had dug for him; but, hopefully, would later connect with the priest hole.”
“Any idea who this man would be?” Ben stood by the windows, which showed a darkening sky. In contrast the color and beauty of Val’s décor struck a sickening false note.
“The one I’ve seen walking a sheepdog. Val’s brother, Simon. When I was at the Dower House with Nanny Pierce she told me he was very good looking, although it was a pity about his ears. The man who came up to Betty today had a noticeably mismatched set. One being twice the size of the other. Maybe it explains why he’s gone astray.”
“Tough!” fired back Mrs. Malloy. “There’s a woman at Bingo whose nose looks like it’s on upside down and she don’t go luring people into priest holes.”
“I think Simon was one of the reasons Nanny had to die before today,” I continued. “Left to roam around at the garden party, she’d have recognized him if she saw him close up.”
“A less drastic approach would have been to drug her into a dead sleep so she wouldn’t stir from the Dower House all afternoon,” Ben responded contemptuously.
“I suspect Val wasn’t in a mood to take any unnecessary risks at this late stage of the game. Nanny may have told her she had seen a man out walking who looked like Simon. Besides, she had that second reason for pushing Nanny under the bus. She needed to convince Betty that Lady Fiona had murdered yet again, so that no one would be surprised when she went looking for Mr. Gallagher’s remains in the priest hole and accidentally got locked inside. Poor Betty! A sad case of a woman with a maniacal obsession! Winning the lottery had affected her mind! A tragedy, but why suspect foul play? And there would be Val on the spot to sweetly comfort Tom in his hour of need. She knew his persuadable nature. He wouldn’t have had a chance against her. All that lovely money would have been hers when she led him by the nose to the altar.”
“Apart from what she’d have to share with her brother, Simon,” Mrs. Malloy pointed out.
“In addition to his role today, Val may also have needed instructions from him on opening up the priest hole. Lady Fiona said he wouldn’t share the secret when they visited Cragstone as children. Maybe he kept it until Val promised to give him a share of the wealth when she married Tom.”
“What a pair!” Ben removed my empty brandy glass and set it down on a table. “That poor old lady.”