Page 95 of Marble Hall Murders

‘I appreciate that, Susan. And perhaps I was a bit hard on you when we met at Marble Hall. But whatever you may think about me or Miriam Crace, or the entire family, for that matter, you must admit that she was a force for good and that’s what this is all about.’ He looked around the room, taking in the huge photograph at the far end. ‘How many people devote their whole lives to making the world a happier place? Isn’t that what we’re celebrating tonight? It’s what I told you when we first met. I’m sure you can find all sorts of bad things to say about Mrs Crace, but it’s not relevant. It’s her brilliant creations that matter, the joy that they bring.’ He smiled. ‘I’m sorry. We don’t need to have this conversation right now, so I’ll leave the two of you together. Have a nice evening.’

He walked away.

‘Do you really think that Grandma was murdered?’ Julia asked me the moment he was gone.

I was taken aback. I hadn’t expected her to be so blunt.

‘I’d have imagined you’d know better than me,’ I retorted. ‘Have you spoken to Eliot since he went on the radio?’

‘No. He emailed me a couple of weeks ago. He had nice things to say about you.’

That was then, I thought. ‘So what can you tell me about Marble Hall?’ I asked.

‘Susan, I’ll tell you something straight away. You’re not going to upset the apple cart. The Miriam Crace Estate is too big. We learned that when we were kids. I’m sure Eliot’s told you … we hated Marble Hall. We hated everything about it. But there was nothing we could do – not until we grew up and got the hell out.

‘But you have to remember – it’s not as if the Crace Estate is selling oil or weapons or health insurance. Everyone loves the Little People. Do you know, at St Hugh’s – the prep school where I teach – they have every single one of Miriam’s books? They draw pictures of the characters in art class. On Book Day, half the kids still come as Littles. If they found out I was part of the family, I think they’d die of shock.’

‘You changed your name?’

‘I changed it the day I left. The kids know me as Miss Wilson and that suits me fine. I don’t want anything to do with my family – and that’s why I didn’t get in touch with you when Roland contacted me. I hope you’re not offended.’

‘I completely understand, Julia. It was never my intention to take on the Crace Estate, and for what it’s worth, I’m not even sure that I’m working with Eliot any more. I advisedhim not to do the radio broadcast, but he didn’t listen to me. There is one thing I’d like to ask you, though.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘If you hate your family so much, what are you doing here?’

She smiled. ‘I don’t hate the family, Susan. Well, my uncle Jonathan is a bit of a shit and Freddy is sad, but the main reason I come to these anniversaries is to remind myself of what I left behind. It’s a chance to see Roland and Eliot. You have no idea how close we were, growing up. I’m staying in London until the weekend and we’ll have dinner together – if Eliot decides to show his face. The one thing we’re not allowed to do, ever, is to go public about life with Grandma. I was left money in her will, but I had to sign a privacy clause before I got it.’

‘You too?’

‘It’s the only time I can ever talk about it,’ Julia went on. ‘At family gatherings like this one. And sometimes I need to get my feelings out there. We’re survivors, you see. Roland, me and Eliot, we stuck together and that made us strong. You heard about Jasmine?’

‘She killed herself.’

‘The official story is that she slipped and fell. I feel bad about her, although we were never that close. She lived in a separate house with Jonathan and his wife, Leylah, and so she wasn’t part of our group.’

‘Tell me about the three of you,’ I said. ‘You, Roland and Eliot. What exactly was your “group”?’

‘We had a sort of secret society. We called ourselves the Rogue Troopers, which came out of one of Eliot’s comics.We asked Jasmine if she wanted to join, but she wasn’t interested. At the end of the day, when we were meant to be doing our homework, we’d slip away and meet up in an empty cottage in the grounds. It was a horrible place – most of the rooms were damp and full of spiders – but we had a table and chairs and we stole bottles of lemonade. We could be alone together and could say anything we wanted there. Roland used to smoke cigarettes, even though they made him feel sick.’

‘Is that where you plotted to kill your grandmother?’ I asked.

Julia laughed. ‘We were children, Susan. We talked about lots of things. We plotted to run away, to join a circus, to set fire to the house, to stow away on a ship sailing to Argentina – but do you really think we would have done any of those things?’ She looked at me disdainfully. ‘Roland would never have let us do anything stupid. And he was the one who saved my life. I mean that quite literally. He was my knight in shining armour at a time when I really needed one. He looked after Eliot, too. He was older than both of us and he wasn’t afraid.’

She had been looking across the room as she spoke and, following her eyes, I saw Roland in animated conversation with another guest. He was wearing a Savile Row suit and I had to admit that he looked remarkably handsome. It wasn’t just his dark, wavy hair and film star looks. It was the way he carried himself. I’ve met one or two famous actors in my time and it’s something I’ve often noticed. They can introduce themselves and draw you in with their body language long before they open their mouth.

The man he was talking to turned his head briefly and I started. Surely it couldn’t be possible. Roland was talking to Michael Flynn, my boss at Causton Books. But there was no reason he would have been invited here. On the contrary, he had commissioned Eliot’s book. He was, theoretically, the enemy. What possible connection could he have with Miriam Crace?

I wanted to go over to him, but Julia was still talking.

‘I did want to kill her,’ Julia said, talking about her grandmother. ‘Miriam Crace died a few days after my birthday. I’ll never forget – it was almost the last time I saw her. My mother took me out so I could buy a dress for the party. There weren’t going to be many of us there – just the family and a few friends from school. Miriam asked me to put it on to show her and I should have known better, but Mummy persuaded me. So I dressed up and came down after lunch.’

She stopped and for a moment the anger and humiliation of twenty years ago welled up in her.

‘I walked into the living room wearing this pink and white thing, and maybe it was a bit tight-fitting. I don’t know. Anyway, Miriam laughed at me. She laughed and she laughed and she laughed. She said I looked like Miss Piggy in that television showThe Muppets. She made a joke. She said that if I had too much birthday cake it would explode … something like that. The whole family was there and I was standing in front of her, just wanting to cry and forcing myself not to. In the end, I ran out of the room and when the day of the party came I just wore jeans.’

‘How could she do that?’ I exclaimed. ‘I mean, nobodyin their right mind behaves like that. Especially not to a child.’

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