Page 39 of Marble Hall Murders

‘That’s not true.’ Harry leapt to the defence of his friend. ‘You had her round your little finger, Elmer. You controlled everything she did. You probably only married her to get your hands on her money.’

‘That’s a disgusting lie.’

‘I don’t understand!’ Judith complained. ‘Twenty thousand pounds. Mother supported my work and what I’m trying to do. She promised me she’d help.’

‘It is a considerable amount of money, Madame Chalfont,’ Lambert assured her.

‘You don’t understand. I’m fighting an entire country. I can’t do it on my own.’

‘Why do I get half as much as everyone else?’ Robertasked, addressing his father. ‘Is that how she saw me? Only half as good as the rest of this family?’

Elmer lost his patience. ‘What makes any of you think you deserved anything! Look at you! She hasn’t been dead forty-eight hours and you’re already squabbling over her cash. Twenty thousand is more than many people earn in a lifetime, but it’s not good enough for you. However much she left you, you’d want more.’

‘Twenty thousand is one tenth of what you’re getting,’ Lola reminded him archly.

‘I’m not going to argue with you … not with any of you.’ Elmer got to his feet. ‘The will is legal, signed and sealed, with Mr Lambert and Miss Carling as witnesses. I suggest you stop sniping and listen to the rest of it.’ He suddenly swung round to face Pünd and Voltaire. ‘Have you seen enough?’ he demanded. ‘I guess you wanted to be here to see for yourself what a pack of jackals we have in this house. Well, it should be more than enough for you. Maybe you can give us a little privacy so that we can continue tearing each other apart.’

Pünd glanced at Voltaire, who nodded briefly, once. With Fraser following them, they got up and left.

*

Once they were back in the sunlight, Voltaire took out a cigarette and a matchbook he might have picked up in Nice. Fraser noticed the wordsHôTEL LAFAYETTEwritten on the cover. That presumably was where he was staying. Voltaire smoked awkwardly, his hand a claw, his fingers not quite up to the task of holding the fragile paper tube. ‘This is amost horrible family,’ he said. ‘It is obvious to me that one of them killed Lady Chalfont for her wealth. As much as they complain, twenty thousand pounds is a huge amount of money. Any one of them could have added the poison to her tea.’

‘But if she was about to change her will …?’

‘Then Elmer Waysmith would be the obvious suspect.’ Voltaire blew grey-blue smoke into the air. ‘That still remains a strong possibility. Unfortunately, we have no proof that this is what she intended, as she was dead before her solicitor arrived.’ He threw down the cigarette and ground it out. ‘My driver will take you back to the hotel.’

‘And you, Monsieur Voltaire?’

‘There are one hundred and twenty-seven pharmacists in Nice, Cannes and the surrounding area. One of them must have supplied the aconitine. That is what I am investigating, Herr Pünd. Everything else is speculation.’

He walked away.

‘May I ask something?’ Fraser said.

‘Of course, my dear James.’

‘Well, it seems to me that it has to be Elmer Waysmith who killed his wife. After all, she did write to you saying that she suspected he’d been up to no good. That would have given her a reason to cut him out of her will and he could have overheard her calling her solicitor.’

‘And what of the rest of the family?’

‘Well, it’s clearly the case that they needed the money. I wouldn’t say no to twenty thousand pounds myself! But they were going to get it anyway. Maybe in a few days. Maybe in a few weeks. All they had to do was wait.’

Pünd smiled. ‘Ah, yes. It is the question that comes up again and again.’

‘Why murder a woman who is already dying?’

‘Exactly, James. And I will give you the obvious answer, because it is, I believe, the key to everything that has happened.’

‘Why, then?’

‘Because, my friend, it does not matter.’

The First Anagram

That was where the manuscript ended.

The sun had sunk out of sight while I was reading and my little garden was cast in a bluish-green light. I could imagine Hero and Leander circling each other in the shadows. I would have to read the whole thing again before I met Eliot Crace, but already I was wondering if it would be a good idea to meet him at all. I remembered what Michael Flynn had told me. Eliot knew I was being brought in to work on the manuscript and he was ‘very excited’ and wanted to see me as soon as possible – but was he making a mistake?

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