A Cotswold Mystery - Part 26
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Part 26

The old woman nodded, and attempted a grin. 'Yerrth,' she mumbled.

Thea sat down on one of the armchairs, leaving plenty of s.p.a.ce for the doctor to perform her examination. The avalanche of events, impressions, connections and worries acc.u.mulated over the past twenty-four hours or so was weighing her down. There was so much to think about, so many threads to keep hold of, so much still waiting to be faced. A mult.i.tude of unanswered questions thronged her mind. What about Upton and Icarus and Nick, for a start? Thea still hoped and believed that Julian's murder was a.s.sociated with that muddled story, despite the stack of evidence against Gladys Gardner. The confirmatory exhibits at the photographic show needed to be properly processed, too. Had Jessica managed to explain what they'd seen to James? Was the entire police investigation now suspended because of some infuriating terrorism in Birmingham?

After two minutes of distracted thinking along such lines, Thea gave up and concentrated on the present moment. Suzy Collins was taking Granny's pulse, peering into her eyes, testing the muscle tone of the limbs on the left side. She seemed frustrated and unsure. 'I can't even listen to her heart without any equipment,' she complained. 'She's going to have to have a proper check-up.'

With some energy, the old woman shook her head on the cushion, in an emphatic rejection. 'Nononono,' she blathered. 'Talk, mutht talk. Hoollan. Killed Hoollan.'

But the old woman never got a chance to make what promised to be a deathbed confession. Jessica called hurried goodbyes, and as Thea stood at the front door waving to her departing daughter, she was approached by a pale thin woman in her late forties.

'h.e.l.lo,' she said shyly. 'Are you the house-sitter? I'm afraid I don't know your name. Nick Jolly phoned me.'

Thea guessed instantly who she was. 'Yes, I'm the house-sitter,' she said. 'Thea Osborne. And you must be Frances, come to see your mother?'

The woman gave a curiously reluctant little nod. 'How is she?' she asked. 'It's a long time since I've seen her.'

Thea escorted the woman into the hallway of the Montgomerys' house, and detained her for a few moments. 'She isn't at all well,' she said. 'There's a doctor with her now. Why did Nick phone you? What did he say?'

'Um...quite a lot, actually. I'm afraid he's very upset.'

Thea's head was throbbing with impressions, remembered remarks, suspicions, all jostling for urgent examination. 'I hope you don't mind, but I really need to ask you something,' she said. 'The police are likely to be here any time now-'

'They'll arrest her for murder, won't they?' Frances had a hand to her throat, her voice a breathy whisper.

'Did Nick tell you that?'

'In a way. They've read the will, you see. I didn't expect them to do it so soon...but of course they'd need to find out what kind of funeral he wanted. I thought there might be more time.'

'Sorry,' said Thea. 'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

Frances gave her a confused look, which rapidly mutated into something sterner. 'No, of course you don't. But then, it isn't really your business, is it? I'm sure you've done a great job with the old lady, but really you needn't know all our family business, need you? I'd like to see her now, if it's all right with you.'

'But-' Thea wanted to know so much more, while accepting the reprimand for her curiosity.

With a hesitancy she could barely understand herself, she stood aside as Frances went through the connecting door. Instantly the newcomer was kneeling beside the old woman on the sofa, clutching her hand and repeating, 'Mum! Mum it's me, Frances. Open your eyes and look at me.'

Thea and the doctor exchanged glances and by mutual consent withdrew to the side of the room, taking Gussie with them. Slowly, Mrs Gardner responded to the voice in her ear.

'Frances!' she sighed, when recognition dawned. A tear trickled down a lined old cheek. 'You're not to be here. Go, lovely, go away and hide.'

'Too late, Mum. I can't let them do it. It isn't right. And do you know he's left it all to me, after all. I never thought he would. All but that stupid car. Thomas can have that, and welcome.'

Granny Gardner gave a feeble smile and nodded. 'He loved you. I always said so.'

Frances looked at Suzy. 'Is she seriously ill? She looks as if she ought to be in hospital.'

Before the doctor could reply, Granny gave a strange sighing gasp, and stretched her arms out stiffly along her body for a few seconds. Then she went limp, and the half-open eyes lost all focus.

The doctor rallied first and grabbed the limp left wrist. She put her ear close to the bony old chest. She raised the head and blew gently onto an open eye.

'My G.o.d, she's gone,' she said.

n.o.body moved for half a minute, each waiting for one of the others to break the spell. Then Gussie stepped in front of Frances. 'Remember me?' she said. 'I knew you twenty years ago.'

But Frances was in no state for social exchanges.She knelt limply on the floor, clinging to her mother's frail hand. 'She can't be dead,' she pleaded, looking from the doctor to Thea and back. 'Tell me she isn't dead.'

Thea tightened her jaw with resolve. 'I'm dreadfully sorry,' she said. 'But really we need to clear a few things up before the police get here. And you...' she addressed Suzy '...you'll be in trouble if you don't contact someone right away, won't you?'

'I'm in trouble as it is,' said the doctor calmly. 'But yes, I need to make some calls. I'll go outside and do it.'

Gussie seemed at a loss. 'Poor old Glad,' she murmured. 'What a way to go.' Then she looked at Frances. 'Made it at the last minute, didn't you. She thought she'd never see you again.'

'She saw me on Sunday,' said Frances in a flat tone. 'When we killed Julian.'

That afternoon consisted of a medley of telephone calls, questions, people in and out, more questions. Both mobiles and the Montgomerys' landline were in constant use. Thea could almost feel the air crackling with all the words, real and electronic, flying to and fro. The police were summoned, the doctor quizzed, Gussie and Frances treated with bemused courtesy. Granny was taken away by two respectful men in dark suits, and Thea wept to see her go. But at the front of her mind, insisting and clamouring, was a string of questions for Frances. Why? How? But the more urgent necessity of dealing with Granny Gardner's death required that she hold her tongue for the time being.

Giles Stevenson put in an appearance, his shoulders sagging. 'Poor old love,' he sighed. 'But perhaps it was for the best. I did think, you know...when she banged on my door on Sunday morning. So manic manic, you see. Not like herself at all...'

Thomas Sewell loitered self-effacingly on the pavement outside the house, until Thea went out to speak to him.

'Gladys dead? As well as Julian? Well, well, it's how he would have wanted it.'

Even Icarus Binns, his hair in disarray, flitted back and forth past the front window. Thea went out to speak to him. 'The Granny lady breathed her last, is that the fact?'

Thea nodded.

'Ick has been a foolish boy,' he simpered. 'Got himself in s.h.i.t with the trespa.s.sing rules. And bad boy Nick mobiled to say no more Box hunting. Whole thing a magical madness, he says.'

'So he didn't find anything the day he dug up all that soil and drove it away in his van?'

Ick shrugged, and Thea pressed him. 'So why did he do that? Take away the soil?'

'Keeping the secret,' Ick hazarded. 'Not to give house-people the knowing about the digging work. Not so easy to hide.'

Still she couldn't let it go. 'He could have just put it back in the hole he'd dug,' she persisted.

Ick frowned doubtfully, but said nothing. Thea gave him a pitying look. 'If you ask me, he was going to keep on digging without you, but the accident made him think again. In any case,' she added, 'you can be sure there never was a box buried at Upton. The idea is ridiculous.'

Ick eyed her severely. Then his face relaxed and he heaved a sigh. 'Sad to think of the Granny lady departing this life so sudden.'

'I know. Anyway it was good to meet you, and my daughter was thrilled. You were the bright spot in a difficult time.'

'Pretty policeman girl,' he sighed. 'Nice, sensible friend to Ick. Listen for her featuring in some songs, little while from now. And maybe mamma lady can understand more word relations.'

She gave him a grateful smile. 'Perhaps,' she nodded.

He reached out with a calloused finger and lightly touched her cheek. 'Living in a different world, world of pain and serious doing,' he half-sang. 'World where Ick can't manage, with the richness of its badness. Ick's a spirit can't breathe the air of worldy s.h.i.t.'

She laughed at him. 'I believe you,' she said. 'Fly free, then and give my regards to Cleodie.'

He spun away, hair flying, fingers shaping an imaginary revolver shooting himself in the temple.

At last the opportunity came to speak privately to Frances. The police attention thus far had been restricted to the reappearance of Sergeant Tom and Ginger Eddie, who sighed and sympathised, and seemed genuinely sorry about the old woman's death.

'I want to make a statement about the killing of Julian Jolly,' Frances told them formally.

Suppressing his surprise, Tom nodded. 'I'll notify the plain clothes people,' he said. 'But do you mind if we give them another hour or so? It's total chaos across the whole region just at the moment, as you can imagine. You were lucky we managed to get here. It's only because we said we'd put in some overtime.'

Thea c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at this, knowing that in time of such crisis, all personnel would be required to work extra hours in any case.

But it gave her some time with Frances, for which she was grateful.

'I know I have no right to ask but do you mind just telling me a bit more of the story?' she pleaded.

Unemotionally, Frances gave the bare facts that Julian was her father. She had been born to Gladys Gardner in the early nineteen-sixties, when her mother was forty-seven and Julian in his early thirties. 'She bewitched him, according to the story, with her wicked past and sense of mischief. He was always a bit dry. And he was a useless father to me. I didn't even know about him until I was twenty-five.'

Thea murmured encouragement, eager to know more.

Julian had, it seemed, been prevented from openly acknowledging his daughter by his outraged wife. All his paternal attentions were devoted to his son Malcolm, father of Nick. Although they never lived together, Frances's parents remained close, and by the time she was twelve, they were actually working in harness, while maintaining the secret of Frances's parentage. Hilda, Julian's wife, pretended to be unaware of the continuing relationship, sliding slowly into ill health and self-obsession.

'But why kill kill him?' Thea demanded. 'What did he do to deserve that?' him?' Thea demanded. 'What did he do to deserve that?'

'Money, mainly,' came the calm reply. 'He told Yvette, quite casually last month, that he was changing his will and leaving everything to Nick. She wasted no time in gloating to me about it, I can tell you. Said I didn't deserve a penny, anyhow, the way I never came to see Mum. So I did come to see her, the moment my d.a.m.ned sister was out of the way. I didn't realise, you know, how much I hated him, until the moment was upon me. But he knew. He barely struggled after the first surprise in the living room.' Her eyes remained fixed on a patch of late sunlight slanting through the window. 'You know I think he was worried about upsetting my mum by putting up any resistance. I think he loved her that much.'

'So I mean, did she know what she was doing?' Thea was still having serious difficulty in imagining the scene.

Frances frowned helplessly. 'I don't know whether she did, right at the end. But when I turned up, it was as if she'd already known I was coming, and had everything planned. She was fantastic with the buzzer and the door keys and all that. Mind you, she was always very sharp about locks and that sort of thing. I used to tease her that it was because of her time in prison.'

'But did she want Julian dead?' Thea was still lost.

'She thought it was what he he wanted and I think she might have been right there. He was ill and felt that most of his work had been a waste of time. And he missed his stupid wife more than Mum or I liked to admit.' wanted and I think she might have been right there. He was ill and felt that most of his work had been a waste of time. And he missed his stupid wife more than Mum or I liked to admit.'

'I can't believe it,' argued Thea. 'I just can't.'

'Because you can't see beyond the sweet old lady, all pink and smiling and innocent,' Frances accused. 'She was never like that in the least. She was forgetful and confused at times, but she was always the same person. The woman who stabbed that doctor, who never flinched from getting her hands dirty or telling people the stark truth about themselves.'

'Yes,' said Thea slowly. 'I had started to realise that.'

Frances met her eyes. 'You knew she'd killed him?'

'My daughter was fairly convinced. But did she? I mean which of you...?'

Frances seemed to shrink slightly, as if the full import of her situation was beginning to dawn on her. 'n.o.body will believe me, will they? And it doesn't much matter anyway. I've burnt all my bridges by coming back here so soon. But, for the record, since you seem to care so much it was Mum. I held him down, and she did it. Then I dragged him into the kitchen, so n.o.body could see him from the street.'

'And the plan was to let her take the blame. To let you go scot free. So why come back today and blow it? She died knowing you'd ruined the whole plan.' Thea was accusing.

Frances sighed.

'I couldn't go through with it couldn't see her in some ghastly prison. Somehow I thought they'd never really charge her. But Nick said well, he persuaded me they would.'

'But you hadn't said anything before she died,' Thea remembered. 'You could just have kept quiet. You'd already told me to mind my own business. What changed?'

Frances wiped away a tear. 'The flowers,' she said. 'I saw the Mother's Day flowers on the table, with the card saying they were from me. I don't know who gave them to her, but it certainly wasn't me. It would never have crossed my mind.'

'So?' Thea was still painfully lost in the convolutions of the other woman's life.

'So, even though it was far too late to matter, I decided to be a decent daughter for once in my life, and face up to what I've done.'

'Oh.' Thea paused. 'But you got the money anyway. Julian hadn't changed his will. Wasn't it all for nothing?'

Frances gave an unbearable smile. 'That's right,' she said. 'But who's to say he wouldn't have got around to it in another day or two?'

'You won't be allowed to keep it now. Will you?'

'I won't be wanting it where I'm going. Will I?' said Frances.

If you enjoyed this, you might like to read more in the Thea Osborne Cotswold series Thea Osborne Cotswold series.

Read on to find out more ...

A COTSWOLD KILLING.

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Duntisbourne Abbots is a quintessentially English village nestled in the stunning Cotswold hills. Recently widowed Thea Osbourne fears three weeks of house-sitting there may prove a little dull, but her first night's sleep at Brook View is broken by a piercing scream... When a body turns up, Thea knows she shouldn't get involved, but in questioning neighbours she uncovers more tragedy and intrigue than she thought possible.

A COTSWOLD ORDEAL.

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Thea Osborne and her spaniel Hepzibah embark on their second house-sitting commission with few worries. Despite her first disastrous venture, Thea is convinced that lightning will not strike twice, and arrives at idyllic Frampton Mansell with renewed enthusiasm. However, it seems she is jinxed: within days of her arrival she finds a body hanging from the rafters of one of the barns. But was it suicide...or murder?

DEATH IN THE COTSWOLDS.