Dandy Gilver and an Unsuitable Day for a Murder (37 page)

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Authors: Catriona McPherson

BOOK: Dandy Gilver and an Unsuitable Day for a Murder
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‘No idea,’ I said. ‘Mary told Mirren that she was Dugald’s cousin some time ago, trying to put a stop to the marriage plans. Abby told Mirren that Robin was her father, to make Mirren believe that she was Dugald’s sister, to stop Mirren eloping. Of course, what that revealed to Mirren is . . . the thing I can’t seem to say.’
‘Her mother and father were brother and . . . Yes, I see what you mean, Dan. It doesn’t trip off the tongue’ ‘And that’s why Mirren ran away. She couldn’t face her mother once she knew.’
‘Poor child,’ said Alec.
‘Poor everyone,’ I agreed. ‘One can’t really blame Robert or Robin, if the women were really out to ensnare them. And one can’t blame the women. They each of them wanted a child. Mary gave it years and years with Ninian and Abby gave it five years with Jack.’
‘Dandy, don’t be so disgusting. You sound like a farmer. What about Jack and Hilda? Is it poor them too?’
‘If, during that time of tennis and card parties when Mary was away, when Abigail was trying to seduce Robin—’
‘Doesn’t sound like any tennis party I’ve ever been to,’ Alec said.
‘—if, as I say, Jack and Hilda got a whiff of what their spouses were up to, why shouldn’t they have thought that what was sauce for the goose and gander was sauce for the gander and goose?’
‘Neatly put,’ Alec said. ‘And then of course Hilda had been kept in the dark about the four sisters until she was up the aisle and it was too late. I must say, I blame whoever brought about that piece of diplomacy.’
‘Except, look around,’ I said, waving a hand towards the hair salon. ‘Hilda has been pretty lavishly indulged in her life, hasn’t she? And anyway she found a way around the worry of Robin’s poor sisters.’
‘I feel for Abby most,’ said Alec. ‘Poor, heavy-hearted Abby doing her mother’s bidding. I don’t say Jack doesn’t feel guilty, but he’s guilty like a little boy, half-sheepish and half-pleased with himself and hugging his naughty secret.’
‘But still I can’t help thinking that Abby should have been more careful about parties and chance meetings in such a small town,’ I said. ‘I mean to say, we ourselves thought it was the most eligible match imaginable, didn’t we? How could Dugald and Mirren have failed to meet? Either the Hepburns or the Aitkens should have cut their losses and left town. There are no innocents, Alec. Not a one.’
Alec thought for a moment and slapped his hand on his thigh.
‘Bella,’ he said. I cocked my head at him. ‘She’s innocent.’
‘And Fiona?’ I said.
‘Less so if you ask me,’ said Alec. ‘Fiona sold off her daughter to the highest bidder and was so keen not to see his social background too clearly that she entirely missed the problems in the line.’
‘Who’s being agricultural now?’
For a moment we sat in silence, thinking about the secrets, the betrayals, the desperate schemes, the stubbornness, all the misunderstandings. Jack and Hilda’s secret, Robin and Abby’s secret, Robert and Mary’s secret too. If only Mirren had never met Dugald all the secrets would have been kept for another twenty years and twenty more and both of them would have married and made lives and never suffered a day’s torment.
‘Talk about the sins of the fathers,’ I said at last. ‘And now back to Mary. If she’s well enough to see us today.’
‘Us?’ Alec said. ‘Do you think I’ll add anything to the encounter?’ And then seeing my expression he relented. ‘Oh, all right then, I’ll come too.’
An inquiry at the cottage hospital brought the news that Mrs Aitken had been moved home under the close supervision of Dr Hill, with two private nurses in attendance night and day, and so we took ourselves once more to Abbey Park, hoping not to see Abigail if I am honest, or Jack, and half-hoping we would not be given an audience with Mary either. In fact, Alec was probably right because only Bella of the entire household did not give me a shuddery feeling when I thought of her.
Fortunately, for the swift conclusion of the case if not for the comfort of the detectives, Dr Hill when summoned said that Mary had been asking for me and he was delighted that I had come. We were taken upstairs to the drawing-room floor and ushered into a large room facing the garden and for that reason flooded with fresh afternoon sunlight. It was not, I thought, Mary’s usual bedroom, unless it had been hastily stripped of most of its appurtenances to bring it to the peak of sparse cleanliness hospital nurses demand, for there was nothing in it besides a high narrow bed – not quite a hospital bed but along the same lines – a side-table for measuring out medicines and some hard chairs for visitors. There was a second table in the bay window, where several florists’ bouquets were arranged, too far away for the patient to derive any pleasure from them but probably still too close for the nurses’ hygienic ways.
Mary, on the high bed, appeared to be asleep. At the bedside, Bella sat with her hands clasped and her eyes fixed on her sister-in-law.
‘Have you come for the dog?’ she said in a low voice. ‘Pity. Abigail has taken a great liking to her. Poor Abigail, she tries to sit with Mary but she keeps weeping and then . . .’ She nodded to one of the nurses and rolled her eyes. Indeed, this nurse was a fearsome-looking creature, with a complicated cap which came right down over her shoulders like folded wings and a dazzling white uniform so severely starched that it cracked like sails in a high wind whenever she moved. Her face was ruddy and stern and her chin, perhaps from years of her drawing it in to show disapproval, was almost non-existent, her face disappearing into her neck which disappeared under her collar and continued without any suggestion of a swell at her bosom or a dip at her waist.
‘Are you family?’ she said.
‘Dr Hill was very pleased we’d come,’ I replied. I knew a thing or two about nurses after my war years and a doctor was the only thing one could brandish before them which would ever make them falter.
‘I might go and stretch my legs,’ Bella said. ‘Come and fetch me if she wakes and asks where I am.’ She stood with a bit of creaking and groaning, looked down into Mary’s face for a moment and then with a tear in her eye she turned and stumped off out of the room.
The nurse tutted when she was gone.
‘Mooning around like that is no good to us,’ she said, glaring at Alec and me. ‘We need cheerful distraction and jollying along, not weeping and wringing hands.’ Alec and I nodded and mumbled and all but curtseyed and the nurse, satisfied, left us with Mary while she went off to some mysterious task in a side-room where there seemed to be a sink with running water.
As soon as she was gone. Mary opened her eyes and lifted a hand.
‘Mrs Aitken, I’m surprised at you,’ I said, taking her hand and squeezing it. ‘You were playing possum!’ Mary rewarded me with a very faint smile and a suggestion of a laugh. Her face still had the slipped-down look on one side and the rings around her eyes were darker, if anything, the line between her brows deeper than yesterday, but then the move from hospital to home must have been draining for her and the forced cheeriness of the nurse along with Bella’s doleful looks could not be helping.
‘We’ve spoken to the Hepburns,’ I said. ‘They’re not going to tell anyone anything. You have no worries there. I don’t actually think that many of them, if any at all, know the thing that’s troubling you.’ She turned her head on the pillow and regarded me with a hunted look that made me want to take her in my arms and hug her. ‘We worked it out,’ I said and she closed her eyes and moaned. ‘The one person we think might know the whole story is Robert Hepburn himself.’ Another moan. ‘But he won’t speak up. How could he? He and his son would be as shamed in the eyes of the world as any shame he could hope to bring down upon you and your daughter.’ Mary Aitken gave a short, harsh sound that might have been a laugh and rolled her head from side to side upon the pillow. ‘Well, yes, probably not, the world being what it is,’ I conceded, ‘but there would still be enough opprobrium to make sure he never tells. So, there it is. You can put it out of your mind and direct all your efforts to getting better again.’
Mary shook her head with her eyes closed.
‘But Mrs Aitken, you must,’ I said. ‘For Abigail. She blames herself for Mirren dying and she blames herself for you being ill now and if you don’t get better she will be wretched. She doesn’t deserve that. No matter what—’ I bit off the prim censure and started again. ‘And you don’t either. You didn’t know, Mrs Aitken. You knew half the story and Abigail knew the other half.’ Actually, they each knew one third; the last third was Jack and Hilda’s secret. Alec and I were the only ones who knew everything, except for a few very small little puzzles, one or two embers still glowing amongst the ashes.
‘Can I ask you something?’ I said. Mary opened her eyes and looked at me, rather wary. ‘I know you didn’t read Mirren’s letter. Never mind how I know, I’m right, aren’t I? But you must have realised that a hand-delivered note meant she was hidden in the attics. What I still don’t really understand is why you didn’t just go and search for her? Why get me involved?’
Mary had a most peculiar look in her eye now. She put the fingers of her one good hand up to her lips and rolled her eyes in a show of terror.
‘You were frightened to go?’ Alec said. Mary nodded and then she mimed a gesture that neither one of us needed to translate into words to make clear. She pointed one finger, cocked her thumb, put her hand to her head and made a popping sound with her lips.
Alec and I stared at one another.
‘Did you know she had Jack’s gun?’ I said. I remembered the stock lists in the attic ante-room and what everyone had told me about Mary Aitken’s grasp on what was where, and I felt pretty sure that she would have known exactly where Jack Aitken’s old service revolver was kept and would have checked to see if it was missing. I felt a moment’s umbrage that she had been happy to send me off looking for a girl who had a revolver and was in a troubled state of mind, but there was no point in making a fuss about what might have been and so I said nothing.
‘You’d think if she was angry enough to shoot anyone, it would have been Hepburn,’ Alec said. ‘Old Mr Hepburn, I mean. She didn’t know him and she’d been brought up with you, by you, and loved you. I’d have thought she’d have gone after the old man.’
‘She did!’ I said. I sat up very straight and said it rather loudly, loud enough to attract the attention of the nurse in the room next door. She came stalking back and with one look at Mary’s pale and tear-stained face she bundled us unceremoniously out of the room, Dr Hill or no. Out on the landing, I grabbed Alec by the arm and hissed at him.
‘She did go after the grandfather, Alec,’ I said. ‘Oh, glory be! This is like finally getting rid of a raspberry seed that’s been stuck in one’s teeth for a month. She wrote to Mr Hepburn. She must have and that’s why he came to the store. On the Monday. To meet her.’
‘Old Mr Hepburn?’ said Alec. ‘Her grandfather?’
‘There’s no such person as
old Mr Hepburn
,’ I said. ‘This had been niggling at me like nothing on earth. “Mr Hepburn” is Robert. Robin is “young Mr Hepburn”. Dugald was “Master Hepburn”. That’s why the maid at Roseville sent us to the other house when we asked for Mr Hepburn. And I thought the Emporium girls were talking about Dugald when they mentioned young Mr Hepburn and accused them of changing their story when they denied it a moment later.’
‘So Robert came to Aitkens’ to see Mirren,’ said Alec.
‘Thinking he was coming to see the daughter of his daughter. And I’ll bet that’s when he recognised her. And that’s when he realised that she was also the daughter of his son. I’ll bet you something else too. I’ll bet you it was Robert who suddenly hustled Dugald off to Kelso. Once he had seen Mirren and realised what it meant. I wonder what he said to her while they were together. Rather, I wonder if what he said to her was what made her kill herself.’
‘You think she
did
kill herself then?’ Alec said.
‘Oh, she must have, poor little thing,’ I said. ‘And Dugald didn’t know about the planned elopement and he killed himself too. All alone, both of them. Dammit!’ I turned round and looked at the closed door of Mary’s sickroom. ‘I’m sure Dugald killed himself but I wish I had asked Mary while I had the chance if she knew anything about it. Remember I told you how agitated she was about the lift man coming.’ Alec nodded and then put his fingers to his lips and a hand behind his ear. I listened too and could hear water running in the little side-room. Very quietly, I opened the bedroom door again and crept back to Mary’s bedside. I could see the nurse’s back, as she filled a hot water bottle from a kettle and topped it up with cold water from the tap. I turned to Mary.
‘Mrs Aitken,’ I said in a low voice. ‘The day of Mirren’s funeral, did you know or even suspect that Dugald was in the store?’ She shook her head and looked so surprised at the question that I had no hesitation in believing her. ‘You didn’t guess what was wrong when the lift went wonky that way?’ Another shake of the head. I patted her hand and smiled, then glanced at the nurse again. Evidently she had made the bottle too hot or too cold and was emptying it out again to refill it. She had wrapped a cloth around its neck to catch the drips. What a fusspot, I thought, but however fussily she carried out the task, it was almost complete and I did not want to get caught by her. I bent and kissed Mary Aitken’s forehead, then stole out again and rejoined Alec on the landing.

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