Authors: Tanya Landman
And hurtling down the path – running away from the chapel as if her life depended on it – was Angelica.
For the second time in less than twenty-four hours Bill carried an unconscious woman into the villa – only this time she wasn’t apparently lifeless, she was actually dead.
Ruby had succumbed to a massive heart attack. While Bill had been exchanging vows with Josie, his mother had been exchanging life for death.
According to Doctor Psychondakis, it was an unfortunate accident. The old woman had absent-mindedly left her medication in her bedroom. If she’d had her tablets with her, she’d still be alive. It was sad, but there was no one to blame: she had died of natural causes.
The doctor’s verdict was passed from guest to guest within seconds. Everyone agreed that Ruby’s death was a bit of a downer, but nobody seemed unduly bothered about it – after all, it wasn’t like any of them had known her well. The only people who’d been remotely close to the old lady were Bill, Angelica and Josie – and even Josie hadn’t known her long. Bill was now sitting, distraught, in his mother’s room, keeping her corpse company. Josie was pacing up and down fretfully on the terrace. Angelica had disappeared.
Meanwhile, the Z-list celebrities laid into Sally’s beautifully prepared wedding feast like a flock of seagulls. Every possible taste was catered for and every international cuisine was represented: there were tables laden with everything from roast beef and Yorkshire puddings to chicken tikka masala, sweet and sour pork, green curry and pizza. But in the blazing heat neither Graham nor I felt particularly hungry. We took a small plate each and helped ourselves to a couple of chargrilled sardines and a bit of Greek salad. Then we headed for a quiet corner where we could talk.
“Do you reckon the doctor was right?” I asked Graham quietly.
He frowned. “He’s a medical practitioner. He ought to know what he’s doing.”
“It doesn’t feel quite right, though, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
We’d come across so many suspicious deaths lately that we’d developed a fine instinct for anything dodgy.
“I reckon someone might have stolen those tablets,” I said.
“What makes you think that?”
I remembered Ruby’s expression as she’d rummaged in her bag. “Well, it didn’t even occur to her that she might have left them back at the villa – that’s why she kept on fereting around in her bag. She
knew
she’d put them in there: maybe she even remembered doing it.”
“Old people’s memories can sometimes be defective,” Graham pointed out. “Young people’s too, for that matter.”
“Yes, I know – but she wasn’t exactly the daft-old-dear type, was she? She seemed pretty sharp to me. Suppose someone took them out of her handbag before she left the villa? Someone who knew she had a medical condition…”
“And that climbing up to the chapel would put a big strain on her heart,” Graham added. “And if she failed to take her medication, death would be the inevitable result…”
“So it might be murder?”
Graham nodded. “I agree, the whole thing does seem suspicious. Although I can’t begin to imagine who would want an old lady dead. Or why.”
“Murder by ‘natural’ causes,” I said. “Very clever. Who could have done it, though? Josie? Angelica? They must have known about the tablets.”
“Both women certainly had the means and the opportunity,” Graham agreed. “But what about the motive? Why would either of them want to kill Bill’s mother?’
I thought back to the scene we’d witnessed when we arrived. “Angelica wanted Ruby to talk to Bill. Do you remember? Maybe she’d pinned her hopes on Bill’s mum talking him out of getting married, and then when it didn’t work she was angry enough to want Ruby dead. She seems pretty unbalanced. And we saw her running away – that makes her look guilty.”
“Guilty –or afraid. She may have simply found the body. Most people find death somewhat unsettling.”
The terrace we were standing on overlooked the villa’s swimming pool. At that moment Josie came into view. She’d ditched her Greek-goddess outfit and was clad in a gold bikini and matching sandals with killer heels. She seemed to be having some difficulty walking in them, as if she wasn’t used to it, and looked a bit like a kid who’d raided her mother’s wardrobe. She’d clearly decided to go ahead with the planned post-wedding photo shoot despite Bill’s absence, because the man from
Hi!
magazine was trotting along behind her like a faithful hound. Josie settled herself on a sun lounger and the photographer circled her, snapping from every angle. Maybe she felt obliged to carry on with it. There was probably some sort of contract. Or maybe she was just heartless.
“That’s not her usual look,” I said thoughtfully.
“Isn’t it?” asked Graham. “Is that significant?”
“Could be. She looks kind of casual in most of the photos I’ve seen. Wears jeans nearly all the time. Yet that outfit’s downright trashy. The question is, which image is really her?”
Graham frowned. “Are you suggesting that Josie’s manner of wide-eyed innocence might be assumed?”
“Yes, perhaps it’s an act. It certainly worked on Bill, didn’t it? And now that she’s married him, she’s rich. Maybe those catty things they wrote about her in the papers were true: maybe she really is a money-grabbing little gold-digger. And suppose she had it in for Ruby for some reason?”
“But why would she? Bill’s mother clearly had no control over him.”
“Ruby seemed quite sympathetic to Angelica, though, didn’t she? That might be enough to make Josie angry.”
We weren’t getting anywhere. Nothing made much sense but I couldn’t shake off the gut feeling that those pills had been removed deliberately. My suspicions as to who might be responsible were evenly divided between Josie and Angelica.
“I wish we knew more about Angelica,” I said, frustrated. “I mean, why has she gone so completely bonkers?” I remembered Becca, a friend of my mum’s, who’d gone pretty weird after her husband had walked out on her. Mum had sat up with her night after night having long, anguished discussions around the kitchen table. Becca had been desperate, but nothing like as bad as Angelica. She hadn’t
completely
fallen apart. “Do you think Angelica was always a bit loopy? Maybe she was like it when they were married. If she’s always been difficult, it might explain why Bill fell for Josie. I wish I knew how to find out.”
There was silence for a while as we both considered the matter. Down below us came the happy sounds of minor celebrities splashing around in the pool. I noticed that Josie didn’t go in the water – she was posing by the edge but seemed reluctant to take the plunge. Perhaps she didn’t want to ruin her perfectly arranged hair.
“Sizal!” I exclaimed suddenly.
“What about him?”
“He used to do Angelica’s hair when she was with Bill. Women talk to their hairdressers, Graham! I bet he can tell us loads about her. Come on!”
I was off, with Graham at my heels like a
Hi!
photographer, as we ran in search of Sizal Bouffant.
He wasn’t stuffing his face along with Lucia and Hazel and the rest of the make-up and costume crew. He wasn’t splashing in the pool or sipping a drink on the lower terrace. We found Sizal Bouffant in the room where he had adjusted our wigs earlier that day.
And there was a large wasp banging against the glass. Banging and banging, trying to get out.
Sizal wasn’t hysterically begging and pleading for someone to get rid of it. He was lying, perfectly still and perfectly silent, across the chaise longue. His face was red and swollen. Five angry bumps on his cheek and neck had come up where he’d obviously been stung.
Next to him, hanging onto his lifeless arm like a drowning woman clinging to a log, was Angelica.
Graham
and I stood in the doorway staring at the dead hairdresser and his very-obviously-demented client.
“Get Tessa,” I whispered out of the corner of my mouth. “I’ll stay here.”
Angelica’s eyes were fixed on the wasp that was still battering itself against the window. Quite what I was going to do if she switched her attention to me was anybody’s guess. If she’d attacked, maybe I’d have fought back or maybe I’d have just run away. As it turned out I didn’t need to do either, because at that moment somebody changed the CD that was playing outside. All of a sudden, Bill’s number-one hit – the song he’d written for Josie – pulsed through the distant speakers.
When the opening notes of “Ain’t No Escaping My Love” rang out, Angelica started to scream. And she didn’t stop. She went on and on. I thought my eardrums were going to burst but I didn’t move. Neither did Graham. We were welded to the spot by the hideous sound.
Luckily the noise had the opposite effect on Bill. The room where Ruby’s body was being kept was directly overhead, so he must have heard Angelica’s outburst loud and clear. About thirty seconds later he pushed past us into the room, closely followed by Tessa, his constant shadow.
Bill looked at Sizal, appalled, then turned his attention to the screaming woman. Tessa, meanwhile, felt for Sizal’s non-existent pulse before pulling out her mobile to summon Doctor Psychondakis yet again.
Taking his ex-wife by the shoulders, Bill lifted her to her feet, gave her a gentle shake and said softly, “Angel? Hey, what’s happening?”
Angelica clamped her mouth tight shut. Her eyes flicked open and locked onto Bill’s. There was a moment’s silence. Then she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, her face against his neck, just the way Josie had done the night before. She looked terribly old and tired as she answered wearily, “Natural causes.”
Bill seemed both horribly embarrassed and totally guilt-stricken. “Say that again, babe?”
“Sizal. He’s allergic. He carries an EpiPen. All his clients know that. He’s supposed to inject himself if he gets stung, but guess what? He left it in his room. Stupid of him, wasn’t it? And now he’s died of natural causes, just like the others. Accidents. All accidents. No one can prove anything, can they?”
Bill glanced around the room, caught my eye and flushed scarlet. Angelica was digging herself into a hole and we both knew it. Give her five seconds, I thought, and she’ll confess to taking the EpiPen, whatever that was. But Bill wasn’t going to give her the chance.
“Hey, babe, you’ve had a shock. Finding him like this – it’s enough to upset anyone,” he soothed. “You don’t know what you’re saying. Come on, let’s get you settled down. We’ll ask the doctor to give you something. Help you sleep. You’ll feel better then. Tessa will sort Sizal out.” He started to lead her away but then we heard the clicking of heels tottering unsteadily down the corridor and suddenly Josie was there in the doorway.
Wearing a skimpy swimsuit on the beach or by the pool is one thing, but wearing it indoors is different. It was like seeing her standing there in her bra and pants. None of us knew quite where to look.
Josie gasped, horrified, when she caught sight of Sizal. “What happened?” Her eyes darted from the ugly red swellings on his face over to the wasp banging against the window. “Did he get stung or something? Oh my God, is he dead?”
“Yes,” I said.
Angelica laughed. It was high and hard and manic. “He lost his EpiPen. Silly, silly, silly Sizal.”
When Josie saw that Angelica was hanging onto Bill’s hand, her face changed. “Can’t we get rid of her?” she said frostily to her husband. “You don’t have to be Mr Nice Guy any more, Bill. Put her on a plane back to England.”
Bill looked as if there was nothing he’d like more, but he just couldn’t bring himself to be so harsh. “She’s ill,” he sighed. “I can’t just kick her out. There’s no one to take care of her. She might do herself some damage.”
Angelica looked at Bill. “I might,” she said faintly. “Yes. That would be best, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” exploded Josie. “Just go home. You wanted to stop our wedding and you failed. Look,” she said, dangling her left hand – complete with shiny new ring – in front of Angelica’s face. “
I’m
Mrs Strummer now. Get over it.” She slapped Angelica’s fingers away from Bill and put her arm around him. Bill responded instantly: one touch from Josie and he forgot everything else. He was utterly besotted, everyone could see that. Everyone but Angelica.
“No.” Angelica stood to face Josie. Her voice was suddenly clear and steady. Determined. “I can’t. I won’t. Bill loves
me
.”
The chorus of “
Ain’t No Escaping My Love”
came thumping through the speakers outside.
“Hear that?” said Josie. “That’s our song. He wrote it for me.”
“Bill loves me!”
“Get real,” Josie sneered dismissively. Then she turned on those killer heels and wobbled out, Bill powerless to do anything but go along with her.
Angelica sank onto the chaise longue next to Sizal. Her strength seemed to ebb away. She took his dead hand in hers and said confidentially, “She can’t see it, Sizal. She doesn’t know. But I do. If she doesn’t do what I tell her to, she’ll be next!”
When
Doctor Psychondakis arrived, he confirmed Angelica’s assessment: Sizal had died of natural causes. The fact that both he and Ruby had mislaid their life-saving medication was an unfortunate coincidence, something the mainland police would have to be informed of, but nothing more. At a wedding, when everyone has their mind on other things, he said, shrugging … well, it’s not so surprising.
I watched Angelica while the doctor was talking to Tessa and was intrigued by her reaction. Bill’s ex-wife didn’t look like someone who might have just got away with two murders. She looked exhausted. Beaten. When Doctor Psychondakis suggested escorting her back to her room to give her another sedative, she went with him willingly. But before she left, she spoke softly to Tessa.
“You think I don’t know,” she said, putting her hand gently on the PA’s arm and patting it sympathetically. “I can see how you feel. But
I’m
Bill’s wife. He’s never loved anyone but me.”
Tessa went beetroot red and a few incoherently mumbled words fell out of her mouth, but Angelica didn’t stay to listen.