Authors: Cassandra Chan

The Young Widow (33 page)

BOOK: The Young Widow

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“Probably not,” said Gibbons regretfully. “I imagine I'll be tied up here all evening. But I'll ring you in the morning and I don't see why we shouldn't have a celebratory dinner tomorrow.”

She squeezed his hand. “I'll look forward to that,” she said. She tilted her face up to be kissed, and then let him lead her from the room.

“So you were wrong
about her,” said Marla that night at dinner.

“I was wrong about her being a murderer,” said Bethancourt, loosening an oyster from its shell. “I'm not so sure I was wrong about her making use of Gibbons.”

“For what, in God's name?” asked Marla irritably. She had lost interest in the topic several minutes ago.

“As a port in a storm,” answered Bethancourt. “But maybe I'm wrong about that, too,” he added, reaching to refill her wineglass. “Let's hope so.”

“Let's,” agreed Marla, with the finality of one who had thoroughly exhausted a subject. “Phillip, did I tell you that horrible man has been ringing up the agency and leaving me messages?”

“What horrible man?” asked Bethancourt.

“You knowâfrom the charity ball. Ronny Rotter or whatever his name is.”

“Sir Rodney Randolph?” Bethancourt began to laugh.

“I doubt it'll come
to trial,” said Gibbons.

It was nearly a week later and he was comfortably sprawled in one of Bethancourt's armchairs with a glass of Lagavulin in his hand. Despite the intervening days, it was the first opportunity the friends had had to consult with each other since the arrest.

“Her solicitors seem more interested in talking us down from murder one,” continued Gibbons. “And I think it likely they'll succeed. After all, they could work up a lot of sympathy for her among a juryâa husband who tried to leave her while she was pregnant and from whom she was subsequently estranged despite her best efforts to hold the marriage together, as well as being cut off from her father-in-law because of his remarriage.”

“Unsound mind,” agreed Bethancourt from the sofa. “But you haven't told me, Jack, why she did it. Did you ever find out?”

“Didn't I?” said Gibbons, surprised. “I thought I'd told you last weekâit came to light quickly enough.”

“No, you didn't,” said Bethancourt, carefully restraining himself from pointing out that nearly all their telephone conversations had centered around Annette rather than the case.

“Oh. Well, it makes much more sense than her somehow believing that Geoffrey could prevent the divorce. She thoughtâand she may have been rightâthat he could take Edwin away from her.”

“That's ironic,” said Bethancourt grimly, “seeing as how she's now lost him anyway. How did she imagine Geoffrey would manage that?”

“She believed if she tried to break up her marriage, Geoffrey would see that as a sure sign that she was an unfit mother since no good parent would try to deny a child its father. I don't know
whether he would have or notâAnnette claims such a thing would never have occurred to him, but then she's never believed he really meant to disinherit Paul for his infidelity. Anyway, Marion had no doubts about it. She thought he'd accuse her of all sorts of things, starting with adultery and ending up with alcoholism and mental instability.”

Bethancourt was startled. “She's not an alcoholic, is she?”

“No, of course not,” answered Gibbons. “But the accusations could be enough, especially if Paul backed them up and Marion thought he might have, if Geoffrey brought pressure to bear. And with all of the high-priced legal talent Geoffrey could command, she didn't see how she could fight it. She knew Randolph couldn't afford a long, drawn-out battle in the courts.” Gibbons frowned and sipped his drink. “That's the only bad thing about not going to trial,” he added. “I was looking forward to seeing Randolph totally humiliated in court. You can't say the murder was his fault, since if he'd been completely sincere about wanting to marry her, she'd still have done the same thing, but on the other hand, if he hadn't seduced her, it would never have happened.”

“Don't worry about Rodney,” said Bethancourt. “I've got plans for him. What about the lilies of the valley? How did she know they were poisonous?”

Gibbons laughed. “That's the most incredible thing of all. Geoffrey told her himself. She brought Edwin by to visit him the day after Annette had put the flowers in the study and Marion remarked how pretty they were. So Geoffrey told her that they were deadly poison and even showed her the bit in his poison book about them. Marion says she had never considered killing him until that happened, and then it seemed almost like fate.”

“Fate it was, at that,” said Bethancourt. “I'll have to remember not to point murder weapons out to people.”

“What did you mean about Randolph?” asked Gibbons suspiciously. “You're not planning to ambush him in a dark alley and hit
him, are you? Because I would hate to have to arrest you for assault and battery.”

“No, no,” said Bethancourt, airily waving a hand. “Although I admit it did occur to me. But he'd recover all too quickly and meanwhile all his friends and associates would lavish sympathy on him. No, I've something more permanent in mind.”

“Like what?”

Bethancourt smiled and sipped his drink. “I'll tell you if it comes off,” he said. “How's Annette doing?”

“Better,” said Gibbons. “She's been pretty devastated that Geoffrey was killed, as she sees it, by mistake. Since he would never have interfered in Marion's divorce, I mean, and since Randolph never wanted her to get one to begin with. I have to admit, sometimes it's made me a bit jealous, although of course I understand. But just lately she seems to be getting over it, and I've made plans for us to go off to Cornwall this weekend and have two whole days all to ourselves.”

Gibbons had a positively dreamy look in his eyes, and Bethancourt repressed a sigh.

“That sounds just the thing,” he said.

“Phillip,” said Lord Ashcroft,
“what's this my wife's been telling me about Rodney Randolph?”

Bethancourt quelled a desire to smile. He had never before enjoyed himself so much at one of his sister's dinner parties, which tended to be full of dull, well-meaning people, a great many of whom were involved in charity work. In fact, he had earlier been reflecting that the world of charities was a relatively small one and had a definite hierarchy, nearly all of whom seemed to be represented tonight. And Lady Ashcroft, by virtue of her title and her connections with the royal family, was very definitely as high up the ladder as he could reach.

“Rodney?” he said now in response to his lordship. “Oh, yes, a very sad affair, that. I always knew, of course, that he was a bit of a ladies' man, but I'd no idea he took things quite so far.”

“Laura said he was mixed up in the Berowne murder,” said Lord Ashcroft. “She said you told her so.”

Bethancourt, with a sad face, related the facts of the case, stressing the ungentlemanly behavior of Sir Rodney in seducing a lonely and vulnerable woman with blandishments that made her believe he was, so to speak, offering her the golden apple of happiness when in fact he hadn't meant a word of it. Bethancourt waxed quite eloquent on the subject, and when he was done, Lord Ashcroft frowned.

“I'd heard something about Randolph being the reason Claire Lyndhurst resigned from the orphan's committee,” he said. “I don't like to credit rumors, and we all know sometimes these things happen, but I'd no idea it was part of a pattern. At least, it seems that way to me.” He cocked an inquiring eyebrow at Bethancourt.

“I don't know about Claire,” said Bethancourt, “butâ” and here he lowered his voice, “I do know Rodney made advances to my sister. She sent him packing, of course, probably with a flea in his ear, if I know Margaret. There's no nonsense about her.”

“Certainly not,” agreed Lord Ashcroft. “I'm glad we had this little chat, Phillip. I've found it very interesting. I take it you know of it from your friends at the Yard?”

“That's right,” agreed Bethancourt. “Marion Berowne has confessed, so there won't be a trial, and they're very pleased over there to have wrapped it up so nicely.”

“Yes,” said Lord Ashcroft. “Good work, that. Excuse me a minuteâI'd just like a word with Nancy Clarenden.”

Bethancourt watched him wend his way toward another of the charity world's guiding lights with satisfaction.

“You're looking very pleased with yourself,” said Margaret at his elbow.

Bethancourt raised his glass. “It's a wonderful party, Margaret.”

She eyed him suspiciously, well aware of his usual attitude toward her soirees. “Thanks very much,” she said. “We're about to go in to dinner. I've put you next to Mildred Urqhart, and I want you to pay particular attention to her. She's been in low spirits ever since her husband's stroke.”

“I will do my utmost to cheer her,” promised Bethancourt, reflecting that Mildred, too, was much involved with charities. It should be a lesson to him, he thought as he went to escort Mrs. Urqhart in to dinner, that even Margaret's social snobbery had its uses.

THE YOUNG WIDOW. Copyright Â© 2005 by Cassandra Chan . All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y.10010.

www.minotaurbooks.com

eISBN 9781429934794

First eBook Edition : April 2011

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Chan, Cassandra.

The young widow / by Cassandra Chan.â1st St. Martin's Minotaur ed.

p. cm .

ISBN 0-312-33748-5

EAN 978-0-312-33748-3

1. PoliceâGreat BritainâFiction. 2. Private investigatorsâGreat BritainâFiction. 3. Remarried peopleâFiction. 4. PoisoningâFiction. 5. WidowsâFiction. I. Title.

PS3603..H35556Y68 2005

813'.6âdc22

2004065376

First Edition: August 2005

BOOK: The Young Widow

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