The Twilight Hour (26 page)

twenty-six

 

STAR SLAIN IN FRENZIED ATTACK

Actress Gwendolen Grey, star of box office hit,
House of Shadows
, was found battered to death yesterday in her Brighton flat. The actress retired from the screen at the end of last year to marry businessman Stanley Colman, who is helping the police with their enquiries.

.........

I was eating a sandwich lunch in the office and had bought a copy of
The Times
to read while I ate. The paper's front page, filled with the small print of columns announcing births, deaths and marriages (but not deaths like
this
) hadn't prepared me for the shock inside. The words didn't sink in. I reread them.

Gwendolen was –
dead
. And not just dead: murdered.

I thought of Radu in the gallery downstairs; how he'd wanted and hadn't wanted Gwendolen. Then I thought of Stan helping police with their enquiries – that meant they thought
he'd
done it. I put my head in my hands, simply unable to grasp it, to react at all.

‘What on earth's the matter, Dinah?' Noel stood in the doorway.

I showed him the paper, folded at the page. ‘Good heavens. How frightful.' He sat down rather suddenly. ‘How
extraordinary
.'

I rang Stan's office, but there was no answer, not that I'd expected there would be. I rang Alan, but couldn't reach him either. When I got home I listened to every news bulletin, but because of the Czech situation Gwendolen's death was less of a major item than it would normally have been. When I heard Alan's footsteps on the stairs I rushed to open the front door. ‘Something terrible –' I was incoherent. ‘Have you heard about Gwendolen?' He stopped on the landing. ‘Gwendolen?'

‘Look!' I'd bought the
Evening Star
on the way home and thrust it towards him. Their coverage was lurid, compared with
The Times
. ‘They've arrested Stan! And look what they say about Titus. See? “Macabre link to slain artist” – they've reproduced that portrait of her again.'

Alan took the paper and let the satchel he used as a briefcase drop to the floor. He sat down at the kitchen table. ‘Any chance of a cup of tea?'

I'd already made a pot. He drew his cup towards him. ‘They have to interview the husband, don't they. I don't suppose they think he did it.'

I was slightly hysterical. ‘Suppose it's the same person.'

‘As killed Titus? God! But … we must get on to Abrahams. First thing in the morning.' As usual, he was mad with impatience, boiling with suppressed rage because he couldn't speak to the lawyer right away. I made supper. It was our treat for the week: our meat ration, consisting of two little chops, but it was wasted. We could have been eating cardboard.

‘How was she murdered?'

‘It doesn't say.'

‘Radu comes back and the next minute–'

‘But
why
, Alan? Why should he kill her? Why?'

.........

‘They won't let me into the flat.' Stan's voice came hoarse down the line. ‘They questioned me for hours. And I had –' His voice broke. After a moment he continued: ‘I had to identify her. It was –' He choked again. ‘She was suffocated, Dinah, so she didn't look so bad – but that made it worse almost, as if she weren't really dead. It was horrible. Horrible. They made me do it. I think they hoped I'd break down, confess or something.' He was almost sobbing down the phone.

‘You say she was suffocated? Like Titus!'

‘Well … yes … I hadn't thought …'

‘Where are you now, Stan?'

‘At the office. They've released me on bail. Can you get round here? I need to talk to someone.'

‘I've got masses of work. I don't think I can get away before five.'

Noel was standing in the doorway. ‘Is that her husband? He's been released then? Are you going to see him? Is that wise? He must be a suspect. Will you be safe?'

I laughed. ‘Stan wouldn't hurt a fly – and he adored Gwendolen. It couldn't possibly be him.'

‘Adored her!' Noel advanced into the room. ‘You can't possibly know that. Anyway, adoration usually leads to disaster in my experience. Wasn't there some suggestion she was going to leave him? Go back to Hollywood with the film director?'

I was truly surprised. ‘I don't think so – I've heard nothing about that. That's not true.' But perhaps it was. Still: ‘I just don't believe it's Stan.'

‘If you think you're safe – if you think it's safe to see him, you might as well go now. That stuff can wait till tomorrow.'

‘Thanks.' As I pulled on my coat, I said: ‘Have you done anything more about trying to get the Mainwaring woman round to the gallery? You haven't forgotten. We were going to get her to say what she said to you about–'

‘Yes, yes,' he interrupted. ‘I haven't forgotten. I'm going to offer her a deal on Mavor's own stuff.'

‘You said she didn't seem to care tuppence, she was ready to throw the whole lot out.'

‘I've never met anyone yet who refused money for something they'd thought was worthless. But seriously, are you really going round to comfort the grieving widower? Are you absolutely sure it's safe?' But his eyes gleamed with curiosity. ‘Be interesting anyway.'

By the time I got round to Stan's office, he'd calmed down, but he looked pasty and deflated, not the Stan I knew.

‘When they let me into the flat – God knows when that'll be – I want you to come down with me, Dinah.'

‘What's happened to Pauline?'

He looked bewildered for a moment, as if he'd never heard of Pauline. After a moment he said blankly, ‘Oh – didn't you know? I told her to go after we moved down there. I mean, I gave her a month, she didn't have to disappear pronto, and in fact I found her a nice little billet as well, but – I was fed up with her, she gave me the creeps.' He looked down rather sheepishly.

‘I just thought she was out that day we came down.'

He shook his head. ‘She'd gone.'

‘Did Gwen mind you doing that?'

Stan moved around the office, then leaned against a filing cabinet. ‘D'you know, I haven't a clue. She didn't seem too bothered, one way or the other, to be honest. I didn't think I'd have the bottle. I
thought
she'd kick up, but then I got so sick of Pauline's miserable long face all the time, she really gave me the pip, I thought to hell with it, I'm going to put my foot down. I'm her husband, ain't I? And Gwendolen – you know that shrug of hers, and the way she just looks at you as though you weren't there. All she said was: “Aren't you being rather unreasonable?” Maybe she'd have sabotaged it later, sneaked her gradually back in again, but like I say, she didn't seem bothered.'

‘How did Pauline take it? Where is she now?'

‘That woman's a cold fish if ever there was one. She exploited Gwen, I reckon, there was no love lost there. I made her a reasonable offer – she didn't kick up a fuss. Said she wanted to stay in Brighton, didn't care for London anyway. So I found her a little flat in Hove and that was that.'

‘Didn't Gwendolen feel lonely on her own?'

‘I was there most nights. That's one reason the police think I might have had something to do with it. They say it happened on Monday and that was the one night last week I stayed in town. I
did
stay in town. Had a business meeting in the late afternoon and another engagement in the evening.'

‘So you've got an alibi.'

In spite of his misery a crafty half-smile spread across Stan's face. ‘Thing is, this geezer – can't drop him in it. You see – you know that country house I bought – well, the fact is, he's trying to find a way of getting round some government regulations, it's such a blooming nightmare getting raw materials, and the repairs it needs, I want – wanted – to get it sorted out quick … for her, but now –' His voice broke again. He blew his nose. ‘I can't explain that to the coppers, they'll be sticking their nose in all my business affairs as it is if I'm not careful.'

‘What about the evening, then? If you were in London you could hardly get down to Brighton and back up here in time, could you.'

He shook his head. ‘
That's
awkward too. Fact is, I was wining and dining a junior minister. Took him to Kettners. Waiter might remember me, I s'pose. But then his being there might come up, the minister I mean. And that could drop him in it too. The only good thing is the police admitted the porter said I left in the morning – I spoke to him, said I was going to London and wouldn't be back that night. Of course, they're saying I could have done that deliberately, to throw everyone off the scent, but the porter said neither he nor the night porter saw me come back and there was a parcel left for me which I didn't collect. They've got nothing on me, they've released me on police bail at the moment, but –' He shrugged miserably. ‘The papers have brought up the whole Titus thing again, haven't they. Do
you
think there's any connection? They're certainly trying to make one. Will that help Colin at all?'

‘We don't know. But did you know Radu's come back?'

At first Stan looked stunned. Then a slow, cold anger seemed to build and hardened his face to a granite caricature. ‘She never said.' The words were whispered, but hissed with venom. ‘It was Radu, wasn't it. Has to be. He's back – she doesn't want to go with him, he – I'll
kill
him for all he's done to her.'

‘He didn't go down there – well, I don't know if he did – she probably didn't know herself.' I was babbling, panicking at what I'd implied, afraid I'd said too much – and yet it was all so plausible: Radu a murderer.

‘The police ought to know this,' he said. He squared his shoulders. ‘I didn't kill her, Dinah, you know that, don't you. You don't for a moment think I – I mean I
loved
her. And I can't believe – even now … and what makes it worse is I wasn't there. If I'd stayed down in Brighton … She wanted me to move there altogether, you know. And I could have done. I could have done my business from there –
and
kept a toehold in London. I thought about it, I was thinking of having a suite at the Dorchester. And now it's too late.'

We were talking through the shrouded dusk of the room. I got up and turned on the light. Stan blinked in the sudden glare. ‘It's getting late,' he said, ‘what's the time? I –' and then he must have suddenly remembered he didn't have to get back to Brighton,
couldn't
go back to Brighton, and slumped back in his chair. He worried me; he'd no one to look after him.

‘You need to eat,' I said. ‘Why don't you come back to the flat and I'll make something.'

He protested at first, but seemed too tired to argue for long. So I got a taxi ride home, which was nice. I made a dried egg omelette, pretty leathery, but he didn't seem to notice and for once there was a whole loaf of bread. As we drank coffee (the coffee Stan had always been able to get for us) his mood changed. ‘It's rich, isn't it. That tinpot little policeman trying to pin it on me. Poor comment on the state of marriage, the way they always go for the victim's husband – or wife, as the case may be. Like
Brighton Rock
. You seen it yet? Doesn't do Brighton justice – it's a travesty, all gangsters and trollops. The boy in that, he hates his wife like poison, inveigles her into a suicide pact –' He broke off, a look almost of horror on his face. ‘Jesus, Dinah, I saw that film with her. Just last week. Oh God.' He put his head in his hands, almost knocking over his cup. After a bit he pulled himself together. ‘They've sealed the flat,' he said, ‘but that can't last forever. And the moment they let me back – it would help if you came down with me. Can't face it on my own.'

.........

Our arrival at Embassy Court was pretty grim. The flat had been unsealed, and there were few signs of the police search, but I think that made it even worse for Stan. He just stood and looked as if it wasn't his any more.

The doorbell rang. Stan didn't move from where he was staring out of the window at the sea, so I went to see who it was.

She towered over me, parcelled up in purple tweed and a multicoloured crochet shawl. Turquoise, amber, jet and coral beads were festooned over her bosom and amethysts dangled from her earlobes. Her face was like uncooked pastry, its pallor garishly emphasised with a jammy slash of lipstick.

‘Beatrice Lomas. Forgive my intrusion. The porter told me Mr Colman has returned.' Her eyes gazed soulfully into mine. ‘I
found her
, you know.'

‘He's rather upset. We've only just got here.'

But Stanley had followed me into the hall. ‘It's all right. Come in, Mrs Lomas.'