Murder of Gonzago (9 page)

‘Not at all,’ Antonia reassured her.

Sometimes she found herself telling the truth only
partially
– or with distortions, Hortense went on. ‘Not the whole truth, if you know what I mean. I’ve managed to convince myself it makes me feel better. That it assuages the emotional chaos inside me. Who said,
Trust me not at all, or all in all
?’

‘Tennyson, I think,’ Payne said.

‘Tennyson, yes. The Victorians knew all about trust, didn’t they? You know the story of King Midas who had ass’s ears? He kept trying to conceal them, poor wretch, couldn’t live with the awful truth, so he dug a hole in the ground and jumped in and whispered, “King Midas has ass’s ears!” Then he filled up the hole, but the earth, being a woman, spread the story and the reeds started whispering, “King Midas has donkey’s ears!”’

‘We promise to be more discreet than Mrs Earth,’ Payne said. ‘Ass’s ears, eh? Why does this ring a bell? Oh yes. There was someone dressed up as an ungulate that night, wasn’t there? Or rather, as Bottom after his transformation?’

‘So you saw the shadow? I dreamt of it the other night. Well, we all knew he was there. I mean Stephan. He should have been kept in his room, under lock and key. We ought to have taken better care of him, then, perhaps, tragedy would have been averted.’

‘Shall I pour you another cup of tea?’

‘Yes, thank you, Antonia. Well, I must say this doesn’t
feel like an inquisition at all. I assume it was Lord Remnant who asked you to look into the matter? I mean the
new
Lord Remnant. The thirteenth earl. The former Mr Fenwick.’

‘We are actually acting on behalf of Lady Remnant,’ Payne explained.

‘Lady Remnant? You mean Clarissa asked you—? But that’s impossible!’ Hortense looked at him wildly. ‘No. Clarissa is the
Dowager
Lady Remnant now. The Dowager Countess. Dear me. So confusing! You mean Felicity Fenwick of course. Poor Clarissa is far from well, but she said she didn’t want me to feel sorry for her. She was a bit snappy with me. It causes me such pain – if only she knew!’

‘You phoned her?’

‘I did. I keep phoning her. I want to know how she is. I care about her deeply.’ Hortense’s eyes were fixed on the bookcase. ‘If only I’d had the chance to bring her up myself, things might have been different … She seemed at first to think I was a man! My voice sounded terribly hoarse, I suppose. I only said, “That you, Clarissa?” She gasped. She sounded scared out of her wits, poor child. It really made me feel guilty.’

Payne frowned. ‘Why was she so scared? Who did she think it was?’

‘I have no idea. When she realized it was me, she got angry. Scolded me for having frightened her.’

‘Shall I butter you a scone, Miss Tilling?’ Antonia suggested.

‘No, my dear. Nothing to eat. I couldn’t possibly. You are too kind. But I’d like some more tea. My mouth feels dry. I am so terribly thirsty. It’s those pills. One of the side effects.
Thank
you. None of what took place at La Sorcière was Clarissa’s fault. Poor Clarissa is the victim of circumstance. I can’t begin to tell you how much I worry about Clarissa.’ Hortense’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Words can’t express it. Each morning I wake up wondering if she is all right.’

‘You are her mother, aren’t you?’ Antonia said gently.

‘How perceptive of you,’ Hortense Tilling said after a pause. ‘I am hopeless at keeping secrets.
Hopeless
. All right. I am her aunt
and
her mother. None of this has anything to do with Lord Remnant’s murder, mind. Nothing at all. I have been bottling things up for too long, that’s the trouble. My story is not very edifying.’

‘Does Clarissa know you are her mother?’ Antonia asked.

‘No. Clarissa has no idea. I was terribly young. I was a fool. I was seventeen. I went to a party. I met a Frenchman who asked me to dance – no, that’s the wrong place to start – or rather the wrong story!’ She turned deep red. She shook her head. ‘Sorry! I need to collect my thoughts.’

She pressed the thumb and forefinger of her right hand on the bridge of her nose in a seeming effort to concentrate.

‘I lived with my elder sister and brother-in-law. I was very pretty. My brother-in-law seduced me. He was terribly attractive, but quite an impossible character. The two often go together, have you noticed? I wouldn’t call it an affair. The long and the short of it is that I became pregnant. I fell on my knees and confessed to my sister and she forgave me. She said she wanted the baby.’

‘Your sister had no children?’

‘No. She – she couldn’t have any children, you see, but now she told people she was pregnant. She started strapping a cushion around her stomach. I kept out of the way. I went to Dieppe. I had the baby. It was a little girl. I then came back to England and my sister brought up Clarissa as her own daughter. She eventually split up with her husband who, as you may have gathered, was the worst of philanderers.’

‘You never told Clarissa?’

‘No. No. I decided not to. Perhaps I will, one day. I don’t know.’ Hortense paused. ‘She doesn’t like me much, I’m afraid. She finds me a nuisance. I tend to say and do things which annoy her. I love Clarissa, always have. I never married, you see, never had any other children. I keep worrying about Clarissa. She is so terribly unhappy. Her first marriage was quite hellish. Small wonder Stephan’s turned out so badly. Her second – to Lord Remnant – was worse, far worse. And now of course it has all ended in disaster.’

‘Stephan is Clarissa’s son by her first marriage?’

‘Yes. Poor boy. Clarissa used to be married to an awful man called Farrar. I am afraid Clarissa has shown a singular lack of judgement in her choice of soulmates.’

They seemed to be straying from the murder. Payne cleared his throat. ‘Why was Stephan outside? Was he meant to be outside?’

‘He’d been sent out. He was in disgrace for being rude to Lord Remnant. Well, it was Lord Remnant who insisted on our dressing up as characters out of Shakespeare. It was all his idea. Heaven knows why. He was neither a Shakespearean scholar nor a Shakespeare aficionado. He wasn’t a great reader. The only books I ever saw him read were something called
The Youth Pill
and an ancient tome on resurrecting the dead.’

‘Is that the sort of thing he believed in?’

‘That was the
only
thing he seemed to believe in. He was
teaching himself how to raise the dead, he said. That was one of his less peculiar foibles. He described the book as a DIY manual. He was a godless man. He was mad about dressing up. Once they all dressed up as characters in
Winnie-the-Pooh
, apparently. I’ve seen a photo – perfectly absurd – Kanga, Piglet, Eeyore and Owl swigging cocktails … You recognized the play of course? The play on the tape?’

‘
The Murder of Gonzago
.’

‘Hamlet’s ingenious and rather gruesome attempt to make his uncle give himself away. I have nightmares about it. A dumbshow. No talking, only mime. So macabre. There is something disconcerting about the absence of sound … Lord Remnant played Gonzago and, like Gonzago, he was killed … I can’t describe the joy I felt when they told me he was dead. Did you ever meet Lord Remnant?’

‘No, never.’

‘He was quite horrible to me,’ she said. ‘On my first day at La Sorcière he hid my glasses under a sofa cushion. I spent
ages
looking for them. I am lost without my glasses. I didn’t have a spare pair. He seemed to relish the spectacle of my taking an armchair for a fellow guest and apologizing after bumping into it,’ Hortense rambled on. ‘He made me look a fool. He referred to me by a nickname – Miss Baedeker – on account of the Baedeker he had seen on my bedside table. I don’t suppose people use Baedekers any longer?’

‘It’s a bit dated now,’ Payne said.

‘Lord Remnant enjoyed humiliating people. He would do anything to be the centre of attention. For instance, he shot an enormous crocodile once; he then had it stuffed and encrusted with jewels and he put it in the bed in one of the guests’ rooms!’

‘Was he a hunter?’

‘I believe he was. Most of his ideas were decidedly crackpot. Apparently, at one time he got it into his head that “Begin the Beguine” had such emotional power that it
could destroy moral judgement and induce wantonness, so he played it all the time – now what do you think of
that
?’

‘Decidedly crackpot,’ Payne agreed.

‘He was prey to the most disturbing urges. He wanted to box people’s ears for interrupting him or for not getting the point of a joke!’

‘Did he actually box anyone’s ears?’

‘He boxed Stephan’s ears. He kept picking on the poor boy, even though he knew perfectly well he shouldn’t. He kept provoking him. The boy is not well. Far from it.’

‘What is wrong with Stephan?’ Antonia asked.

‘A lot of things. Drugs. General instability. Perhaps the two are connected? Bad heredity. Stephan is emotionally stunted. He can be extremely childish. Sucks his thumb. Uses baby language. He used to refer to Roderick as Daddy R. Louise Hunter was Auntie Lou. I was Aunt Tense. Stephan’s been in and out of various private clinics and rehabs ever since he was fourteen.’

‘How old is he now?’

‘Eighteen and a half. Lord Remnant kept teasing him mercilessly, saying such awful things to him, driving him to rages. Stephan got his drugs from local suppliers, apparently. I mean West Indians. Lord Remnant knew all about it. I strongly suspect he actually
encouraged
Stephan to take drugs. I believe he enjoyed maintaining a hold over Stephan. Drugs are quite easy to get in the Caribbean, sadly.’

‘So we have heard.’

‘Lord Remnant upset everyone, but no one dared contradict him. People were afraid of him. I couldn’t stand him. I thought the world would be a better place without him. I kept wishing him dead!’

‘Isn’t that a dangerous admission?’ Payne said with a smile.

‘Oh, it’s one thing to wish people dead, a completely different thing to actually kill them,’ Hortense said in
dismissive tones. ‘I am not brave enough. Besides – look at me – blind as a bat, even with my glasses on! I’ve never held a gun in my life. But I was telling you about
Gonzago
. Well, everyone went along with the idea. Clarissa made me watch their rehearsals. Lord Remnant put on such airs, you’d have thought he was the new Olivier! Clarissa kept asking me if she looked too ridiculous. I told her she looked marvellous.’

‘Whose idea was it to record the performance with a video camera?’

‘Clarissa’s. Clarissa has a passion for home movies. Poor girl, she always wanted to be an actress. She is enormously talented. She’s got a real flair for all things theatrical. It was Clarissa who chose the background music. “The Bilbao Song”, and that was followed by “Le Roi d’Aquitaine”. It’s the kind of music that creates a peculiarly unsettling, highcamp sort of mood, which was precisely what she wanted.’

‘So Lord Remnant was shot in the back of the head,’ said Payne. ‘How big was the revolver?’

‘It was absurdly small. It looked like a toy. No one in the room heard the shot. The gun had a silencer. Louise said she heard a popping sound, but she imagined it was one of the sound effects in “The Bilbao Song”, which had a kind of a drumbeat to it. No one saw the gun sticking out from between the window curtains either, or so they said.’

‘You were not in the room when the shot was fired?’ Payne tried to sound as casual as possible.

‘I wasn’t. I’d dashed to the loo. When I came back, it was all over. Lord Remnant lay dead. Everyone had frozen. They might have been stuffed with sawdust. I was beset by the kind of primeval panic that brings about mass hysteria, pogroms and stampedes, but that came later, much later, after I’d returned to England. At first they thought that he’d had a heart attack, he’d complained of chest pains earlier on, but then Dr Sylvester-Sale discovered the hole.’

‘The hole in the back of Lord Remnant’s head?’

‘Yes. A very tiny hole, apparently. Later on we found the gun outside on the terrace. It was lying beside the head.’

‘Bottom’s head?’

‘Yes. We’d seen the shadow outlined against the curtains earlier on … The shadow kept appearing and disappearing. We knew Stephan was lurking outside the windows. Perhaps we should have kept a closer eye on him, but we didn’t.’

Antonia asked if anyone had seen the gun before.

‘As a matter of fact we all had, my dear. It belonged to Lord Remnant. It was very small and beautifully crafted. Lord Remnant had kept several guns in the house since the trouble with the locals. He’d been receiving death threats because he’d had a lot of families evicted from his land. He’d had a lot of houses demolished and so on. He was very unpopular. He was universally loathed.’

‘Death threats?’ Payne echoed.

‘Yes. Some gruesomely graphic ones. They were always pinned on the sundial in the garden, Clarissa said. It seems most of the locals had it in for Lord Remnant. They hated his guts … Clarissa kept finding voodoo dolls made in the likeness of Lord Remnant scattered about the estate – stuck with hundreds of needles! She thought at first they were baby porcupines! The irony is that in the end, it was the enemy within who killed Lord Remnant. His stepson.’

‘Such a sweet, gentle boy. So clever and he could be really funny.’ Hortense sighed. ‘But he became a demon when provoked … He is prey to the extremes of mood that seem to agonize all drug addicts. He had already tried to shoot his stepfather
with that very same gun
.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes! It happened earlier that day. Stephan detested his stepfather. Only the week before he’d stabbed Lord Remnant in the hand with a quill pen! It left a nasty red scar between his thumb and index finger.’

‘Why did Stephan try to shoot Lord Remnant?’ Antonia asked.

‘Well, it seems the earl caught Stephan red-handed in his study, trying to steal an extremely valuable porcelain dragon of the Ming dynasty. Stephan said he needed money badly. He said he needed a fix. He was quite open about it. Stephan liked to talk about his addiction. When Lord Remnant took a step towards him, Stephan opened the top desk drawer and pulled out the gun.’

‘He clearly knew it was there.’

‘He did know it, Major Payne. He brandished the gun in Lord Remnant’s face, then he aimed it at his head. The gun, as it happened, was empty, but Stephan kept pressing the
trigger. Eventually, Lord Remnant and Augustine – that’s the black major-domo – managed to disarm him. Lord Remnant told us the story himself, with great relish.’

‘Where did Lord Remnant keep his ammunition?’

‘In that same drawer. Several boxes of it. In some ways, he was a very stupid man – impetuous – careless – reckless – so you may say that he was to blame for his own death. He should have kept the ammunition under lock and key, only he didn’t. It was almost as though he had a death wish!’

‘Lord Remnant was shot only moments after the doctor pretended to pour poison in his ear,’ said Payne thoughtfully.

‘I believe that is so. It was SS – that’s what we all called Dr Sylvester-Sale – who examined the body and told us Lord Remnant had been shot. We knew at once who had done it. We all knew it was Stephan.’

Antonia said, ‘You didn’t think it could have been someone else?’

‘We didn’t. At least no one offered any other theory. Who else could it have been? I personally don’t believe it was one of the locals. Clarissa then asked SS and Basil Hunter to take Lord Remnant’s body upstairs, to his dressing room.’

‘No question of an ambulance and the police being called?’

‘No. Clarissa said there would be no point in calling an ambulance since her husband was irreversibly dead. She said the local police were an absolute nightmare, a criminal bunch, a posse of desperadoes. She warned us we’d all be in big trouble if the police got involved. Lord Remnant had already managed to upset the local police chief in some way. Clarissa said we’d all be put in jail.’

‘No one tried to argue with her?’

‘Louise did, unsuccessfully. Clarissa managed to scare us off. She said she had a plan, which she described as foolproof. She assured us everything was going to be all right. She insisted her main concern was for Stephan’s welfare. She said Stephan would die if he were to be locked away in a
Caribbean jail, which was the worst thing that could happen to anyone. I do believe she genuinely loves Stephan. So we never called the police.’

‘All highly irregular.’

‘We were perfectly aware it was all highly irregular, Major Payne, but we had no choice, really. Clarissa then told me to go and get Stephan. She wanted him inside the house.’

‘I don’t suppose you’ve told Stephan you are his grandmother?’

‘No, of course not. He has no idea – but we get on. For some reason he has taken to me … Renée came with me. She is wonderful, simply wonderful, always so composed. We found him sitting calmly by the swimming pool, dropping pebbles. It was obvious he had been smoking pot. We could smell it. He came like a lamb. He could hardly walk. I took him to his room and put him to bed. Several minutes later Dr McLean arrived. Clarissa had called him.’

‘A local doctor?’

‘Yes. A black doctor, whom, it became clear, Clarissa knew very well indeed. She got both doctors – SS and McLean – together in Lord Remnant’s study. The long and the short of it is that a death certificate was eventually produced giving the cause of death as ‘heart attack’. It bore the signatures of the two doctors. Later that night Clarissa called us to the study—’

‘All together?’

‘No. One by one. When my turn came, she took my hand and said she relied on my discretion. She then gave me a cheque. She knew I had a passion for cruises, she said. She told me to treat myself to a cruise. The money she was giving me was enough for ten cruises.’

There was a pause. ‘Did she give the others cheques as well?’

‘I believe she did. I assume so. I never discussed it with anyone. Well, that’s it, really. We all acted in cahoots. I am
not in the least sorry Lord Remnant was killed. He was asking for it.’ Hortense sounded defiant. ‘But I am not as strong as I imagined I was. I have been suffering terrible pangs of conscience.’

‘Didn’t Lord Remnant employ any security guards?’ Antonia asked.

‘He did, but it was their night off. There were two of them – unreliable as they come. They returned about midnight, blind drunk. I don’t think they quite took in what had happened. They held their hands to their foreheads in salute. I believe one of them tried to kiss Clarissa. She sacked them the very next day.’

‘What did Stephan say? I mean when he recovered?’ Payne asked. ‘Did he actually admit killing his stepfather?’

‘He said he didn’t remember a thing. He said he must have done it. He actually got rather excited about it. He seemed pleased. He wanted to know every detail.’

‘Where is Stephan now?’

‘At an ultra-expensive place called Sans Souci. He’s already been there a couple of times. Clarissa says they are used to Stephan and his hallucinations there. Which means that if he brags about killing his stepfather, they will think nothing of it.’

‘Why did you send the tape to Gerard Fenwick?’ Payne asked after a pause. ‘You couldn’t have wanted your grandson exposed as a murderer, surely?’

‘No, of course not. That’s the last thing I’d ever want.’ Suddenly Hortense Tilling sat up. She took off her glasses. ‘I have a confession to make. Please, don’t be angry with me.
I never sent the tape
.’

‘But you said—’

‘I know I let you believe it was me. I did so because I was curious to know what’s been happening. Who’s been saying what and to whom. I’ve been sick with anxiety. I rather hoped you’d tell me more. I am sorry I misled you. I felt I
needed to talk to someone. I rather liked your faces. I really did. That’s God’s truth.’

Payne stared back at her. ‘But if you didn’t send the tape, who did?’

‘I left the camera on a side table. For several minutes there was general confusion. Augustine broke down and wept. Then the other two servants appeared – the two women. They also started weeping and wailing and tearing their hair … Then – then I saw—’ Hortense broke off. ‘Oh dear, it must have been her! Yes! I am sure it’s her.’

‘Who?’

‘Louise. Louise Hunter. I saw Louise Hunter pick up the camera. She stood looking down at it. She has one of those big expressionless faces … She must have taken the film out. I don’t think she likes Clarissa. Clarissa was a bit sharp with her … I didn’t see her do it, but she must have done!’

‘But the postmark on the padded envelope was Kensington and Chelsea,’ Payne objected. ‘You are the only one of the house party who lives in Kensington.’

‘Louise comes to Kensington quite often. I have bumped into her several times. She goes to the V&A and other museums. There is also a tea place she goes to. Every Thursday afternoon, she told me. Belarus tearooms called Matroni. Actually,’ Hortense said, ‘I have seen her sitting at a table by the window, sipping tea out of a saucer and staring glassily at the samovar. I don’t think she is a particularly contented woman.’