Page 62 of A Village Theatre Murder

‘Of course you don’t. It’s the most ineffectual murder weapon imaginable. You must tell DI Gibson exactly what you’ve told me. She will understand, Troilus. And I’ve no doubt the lab results will bear out your version of events.’

His whole demeanour lightened. ‘Do you really think so?’

‘Yes, Troilus, I really do. The head injury will be consistent with a fall, and the accidental blow to his head from the hall table. I don’t think there’s any chance you will be convicted for Roger’s death.’ Of course, Graham’s killing – which she felt certain must also have been Troilus’s work – was another matter. She hoped to avoid that topic altogether, but Hector must have had the same thought at the same time, because he looked at his son.

‘Troilus, did you kill Mr Powell too? Please tell me you didn’t.’

His face hardened. ‘Yes. Mr Powell needed to die so you could get the role, Papa. Obviously.’ Troilus said this like hecouldn’t quite imagine why anyone would have an issue with it. ‘You didn’t like Mr Powell, Papa. You said he was a very bad actor. You said if only something would happen to him, you would get your big chance. That’s what you said.’

‘I didn’t mean I wanted him killed, for God’s sake,’ said Hector. ‘I meant that I hoped he got a touch of flu or something. Possibly a sprained ankle.’

‘How was I supposed to know that? I did it for you, Papa,’ said Troilus sadly. ‘You should be a bit more grateful.’

Julia realised that Troilus was actually dangerously unhinged. His sense of right and wrong was not quite the same as other people’s, and Hector was the centre of his strange world.

‘Ihadto get rid of him,’ Troilus repeated.‘Even though in the end, it didn’t work. You didn’t even get the part, thanks to stupid Mr Grave. And then they cancelled the play. After I sorted out Mr Grave. It was all for nothing, Papa.’

Troilus looked around, blinking. ‘Now you know what happened, Julia Bird. When Papa told me that you worked at the shop, and helped the police solve murders, I knew that you’d figure it out. That’s why we had to come and see you, you know. I don’t really like dogs, actually.’

This was not good. Julia knew that she was in grave danger. Troilus was not a sane man. He would never hurt Hector, but he would certainly hurt her, and feel nothing for it. She carefully backed towards the kitchen counter, where she knew her heavy kettle stood.

She didn’t have to wait long for the threat to become explicit.

‘I’m sorry to say, Julia Bird, that I’m going to have to get rid of you too.’

‘No, Troilus, you donothave to do anything more,’ said Hector, desperately reaching out to his son. ‘We’ll just explain to the police about what happened, and about how you werejust doing it for me, and I’m sure that a good lawyer will get you off. No need to hurt nice Julia, is there, my darling boy?’

Troilus sighed, as if he couldn’t believe his father was this naive. He pushed Hector away and reached for the satchel on the table.

Well, Julia wasn’t going to wait around for him to throw theComplete Worksat her head, or haul out whatever crazy murder weapon he planned to use on her.

Her fingers made contact with the curved handle of the kettle. She grasped it firmly and swung it towards him. She heard the slosh of water hitting inside it as she let go.

And she heard another thing. A familiar voice saying: ‘There’ll be no more murders, Troilus. Now, put your hands on your head and…’

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. It was as if everything and everyone were suspended: DI Hayley Gibson at the front door, her face set into a stern frown, her arm reaching in the direction of Troilus, Hector leaning towards Troilus – it was unclear whether to stop him or protect him – but his eyes still looking back towards Julia and the kettle, the kettle leaving Julia’s hand, winging its way towards Troilus.

Julia saw it all frozen for a brief second, as if fixed in Perspex, and then all the pieces began to move again, continuing their trajectories.

The kettle connected with Troilus’s chest just as Hector’s hand grasped his shoulder to pull him back, and Hayley grasped his arm. Julia instinctively stepped forward, followed closely by Jake. Jake’s feet scrabbled on the floor, wet from the kettle, and he barked a bark she’d never heard before – loud and sharp and angry.

The kettle hit Troilus hard, and for a moment he wavered between keeping his balance and falling, but the wet floor had the final say, and his feet slid out from under him. He fell so fast, and with such force, that Hayley and Hector both lost holdof him. Struggling to stay upright herself, Julia watched Hayley launch herself at Troilus, using her weight to keep him down, stopping him from making any further moves towards Julia.

But he didn’t move.

The fight had gone out of him. He let out a small, sad utterance, somewhere between a shout and a wail. Jake gave him a warning growl, but it wasn’t really necessary – Troilus’s whole attitude was one of defeat. There would be no further danger from him.

‘Oh, my boy, my boy,’ said Hector, wringing his hands, looking at the scene of chaos. ‘What have you done!’

Jake growled again.

‘It’s okay, Jakey,’ Julia said, patting her leg to call him away. Chaplin watched from the counter, as if presiding over the scene from the pulpit.

When Hayley Gibson spoke, it was with her hand on Troilus’s shoulder in gentle restraint that appeared almost like a priest giving her blessing: ‘You do not have to say anything. But, it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’

Hector sobbed quietly as he watched his son slowly stand up.

‘I did it for you, Papa,’ Troilus said, as Hayley led him away.

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