Authors: Tanya Landman
Bill let out a low, despairing moan and staggered towards the bed, barely in control of his limbs.
Angelica looked at him. “You shouldn’t have married her,” she said. “Why did you do it? Why?” She examined the shoe as if she’d never seen it before. “No… I know why.” Then she suddenly threw herself at her ex-husband and demanded, “You’ll visit me in prison, won’t you? You’ll come every day. I know you will.” She stared at Bill with dark, dead eyes. And strangely, for a moment, she looked as though it was the very last thing she wanted.
Angelica
had been caught red-handed. And yet I had a feeling it wasn’t quite as simple or straightforward as it seemed.
Tessa swung into action the second we called her. She got Gregor Ravavich to lock the unresisting Angelica in her bedroom and stand guard by the door while she sealed off Bill and Josie’s suite so no one could disturb the crime scene before the police arrived. She then made about a zillion phone calls to various authorities before frogmarching all three of us to her office, where she made sweet tea.
While the kettle boiled I noticed Tessa looking at Bill with desperate concern. There was no doubt that she’d fallen for him. Had she had a schoolgirl crush too? Or had this only happened since she’d been working for him? Did it matter?
Bill broke the awful silence when Tessa handed him his tea. He looked at his cup and said in a cracked, hoarse voice, “Sorry, Tessa. I don’t fancy this. Get us a coffee, would you, babe?”
When he called her “babe” – even though he said it absent-mindedly – Tessa flushed. To cover her confusion, she said brusquely, “What did your last slave die of?”
Given that Bill’s wife had just been murdered, it wasn’t what you might call a well-timed remark. He flinched, glanced at me and Graham then sat, staring into space while Tessa made him a cup of instant coffee.
“Hey, thanks,” he said huskily when she pressed it into his hands. “How would I manage without you?”
Bill smiled gratefully at his PA, and for a second Tessa’s eyes flashed with adoration and something else. What was it? Hope? It looked suspiciously like it. Bill didn’t seem to notice but I certainly did. My stomach started churning.
“We’d better go and tell Sally what’s happened,” I announced loudly, tugging at Graham’s arm. “Come on.”
Tessa watched us leave with obvious relief – she didn’t seem to like kids very much. We headed off towards the kitchens, where Sally was preparing the Post-Party Pick-Me-Up for Bill’s guests – a massive fried breakfast with all the trimmings, judging by the smell of bacon wafting through the villa. The minute we were out of sight I changed direction.
“Where are we going?” asked Graham, running to keep up.
“Your mum’s bedroom. Her laptop will be up there, won’t it? We need to look some stuff up.”
“What? Why?”
“This whole thing with Angelica – her being caught in the act after all those rows and threats – it’s too obvious. What if she’s been set up?”
“Set up?” echoed Graham. “Well, I suppose anything’s possible… But who could be responsible for plotting something so ingenious? What would their motive be? To frame Angelica, you’d have to really hate her.”
“And a jealous person
would
. A jealous person who’s madly in love with Bill … Josie hated Angelica enough to kill her, didn’t she? You could see it in her eyes. Only then she died first and now both of them are out of the frame. Did you see how Tessa looked at Bill just now?” I asked, forging on before he could reply. “She’s besotted with him, I’m sure of it. At first I thought she must have fallen for him once she’d got the job, but what if it was before? What if she’s been obsessed with him since she was a kid, like Josie was? Graham, do you remember what your mum said to Tessa when we arrived?”
Graham answered me with a passable imitation of his mum. “What a job to land! There are people who’d kill for an opportunity like that.” His eyes narrowed shrewdly. “And then Tessa mentioned that Bill’s former PA had died in an accident…”
“Well, maybe he didn’t! Maybe Tessa committed murder to get the job! She’s not a celebrity – it was probably the only way she could get close to Bill. And then killing Josie … framing Angelica… What a neat way to get rid of your rivals!”
“And Ruby? Sizal?” asked Graham. “How do they fit in?”
“I don’t know,” I sighed. “Of course, we can’t prove that either of those
were
murders. The doctor might actually be right. And even if he’s not, it only strengthens the case against Angelica. She’s the only one who might have wanted them dead. Maybe that was a good enough reason for the murderer to do it.”
We’d now reached Sally’s room. She’d locked it but luckily there was a door that connected through from Graham’s. Once inside, Graham wasted no time in switching on the computer.
“OK,” he said grimly. “Where shall we start?”
“Bill Strummer,” I said. “News items. There’s got to be something about that PA’s accident.”
There was so much coverage about Bill and Josie that it took ages to find anything. Some of the Z-list guests had clearly been making use of their phones – there were already pages and pages of photos of the wedding and last night’s party, and it was half an hour before we managed to discover anything about Bill’s old assistant. Then we found a small entry that described how a man called Mick Tucker had been tragically killed by a herd of stampeding cattle back in April of this year. He’d been employed as PA to Bill Strummer for the previous six months. Tessa had told us the truth: the coroner had recorded a verdict of death by misadventure.
“Another accident,” I muttered. “Do you remember what Angelica said when we found her with Sizal? Natural causes, just like the others. She didn’t just say ‘like Ruby’, she said
others
. Plural. Why didn’t I see it then? She must know something about Mick’s death. We need to talk to her right now, before she gets carted off by the police.”
“She may be innocent of murder,” Graham warned, “but I believe she’s in a highly unstable condition. Besides, Tessa has locked her up. Gregor Ravavich is standing guard outside her door – and he’s massive. We can’t possibly get to her.”
“Oh really?” I said. “Are you sure about that?” I steered him out of Sally’s room, through his, and across the landing to mine. I threw open my window and pointed. “That’s Angelica’s balcony. All we have to do is jump.”
Graham peered over the window ledge and paled. It was a good four-metre drop, and if I hadn’t thought it was our only hope of solving several murders, I’d never have suggested it. But as far as I could see, we had no choice.
Graham may not be a big fan of extreme sports, but in an emergency he can be surprisingly brave. He didn’t say a thing. Instead he swallowed hard, nodded, then swung a leg over the sill. He rolled onto his stomach and wrenched his other unwilling limb across before lowering himself down. He clung on by his fingertips for a moment, then let go. There was a loud splat as his bare feet hit the tiled floor of the balcony below.
“You OK?” I called softly. He looked at me and gave a half-hearted thumbs-up. He was bent almost double as if the fall had winded him, and was rubbing his left elbow, but he moved over to make way for me.
My turn. I did the same as Graham, landing awkwardly and feeling a bolt of pain shoot from ankle to knee. “Ouch!” I complained. “That hurt!”
“It was your idea,” whispered Graham. “Let’s hope it proves worthwhile.”
There were heavy net curtains hanging across the French windows so we couldn’t see into the room, but the door was open a fraction and it would be easy enough to get in. I took a deep breath to steel myself. I was pretty sure Angelica was innocent, but suppose I’d got it wrong? Josie had been stabbed to death with her own sandals. The viciousness of that attack made me feel suddenly nervous.
“Well,” I said a little squeakily, “here goes.”
I slid the door back, pulled aside the net curtain and Graham and I stepped through. It was dark inside compared with the sunlit balcony, and it took a few moments for our eyes to adjust.
We didn’t have to go far in search of Angelica. She was sitting on the bed, staring at nothing, and as we approached she looked through us as if we were ghosts.
“Angelica?” I said uncertainly. “Can we talk to you?”
She made an effort to focus on me, wrenching her mind away from wherever it had been. She rubbed her eyes, shook her head and asked, “Me? You can’t. No one’s allowed to talk to me. Only Bill.” Her eyes slid away again. This was going to be even harder than I’d thought. I was just wondering how to bring her back to the real world when Graham decided to speak up.
“Mrs Strummer?” he said. “We believe you’re being framed. We’d very much like to know more about the personal assistant Bill employed before Tessa Whittam. I understand he was called Mick. Can you tell us anything about him?”
Angelica heaved the deepest sigh I’ve ever heard. It seemed to come up from the depths of the ocean. And then she said in a strange sing-song voice, “He wanted to see the bluebells.”
The woman’s mad, I thought. Unhinged. Deranged. Barking. There was no way we would get any sense out of her.
Then I recalled the photograph of her running through the woods, mouth open in a silent scream. Running through a bluebell wood, where the newly emerged flowers heads were just beginning to open.
And all of a sudden I caught the clue I’d been missing. It was like being doused with ice-cold water. I’d been so disconcerted by the embarrassing glimpse of her bra that I’d failed to see what was really wrong with that photo. Those bluebells were the key to everything.
I mean, you can’t have a landscape gardener for a mother and not know that bluebells flower in the spring. And it had come unusually early this year. They’d started blooming the first week of April and had gone by the end of the month. Bill hadn’t met Josie until June, which had to be at least six weeks after that photo was taken.
So why had Angelica been running through the woods screaming?
My mind went into overdrive, frantically recalculating. This changed everything. Before I had a chance to say anything, Graham pressed on.
“Mrs Strummer, we believe Tessa Whittam may be in love with your ex-husband.”
“I’m sure she is,” Angelica said in the same dreamy voice. She rocked backwards and forwards. “The whole world adores him. Everybody loves Bill. Everybody but me…”
My mouth dropped open but no sound came out. Everything had suddenly snapped into place. Graham didn’t notice.
“We’re wasting our time here,” he said to me, looking over to the balcony. “Have you thought about how we can get back up to your room?”
Angelica rose from the bed and drifted like a sleepwalker out through the French windows and onto the balcony.
“Graham!” I beckoned him over to the door so we could talk without disturbing her. “All this time we’ve thought she’s mad. But what if she isn’t? Suppose she’s been telling the truth?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“She keeps saying Bill loves her. I think she’s right!”
Graham shook his head incredulously. “That can’t be true. Bill married Josie. He wrote her that song.”
“Did he? Are we sure of that? Think of all those other song titles, Graham – the ones from years back. Were
they
written for Angelica? “
My One, My Only”
, “
All Time and For Ever”
, “
You Won’t Never Need No One But Me”
, “
I’m Yours, You’re Mine, End of Story”
.
Add them together – don’t they sound a bit menacing? A bit obsessive? And the Christmas hit – “
He Ain’t the One for You”
– what was that all about? And then “
Ain’t No Escaping My Love
”? He’s starting to sound like a stalker!”
Graham looked completely unconvinced, but by now I was bowling along like a runaway train.
“You know, when I read those newspapers I thought there was something a bit funny about those phrases Angelica’s friends trotted out. They sounded like cheesy song lyrics – which is just how Bill speaks. All these people who were supposed to be so angry that they wouldn’t come to Bill’s wedding – why aren’t they looking after Angelica? That’s what friends are for, isn’t it? How come they can talk to the newspapers but they can’t talk to her? I reckon they don’t exist. I bet Bill planted those stories to make people think Angelica was going mad. And it worked, too.
Everyone
thinks she’s crazy. Including you,” I finished accusingly.
We glanced over at Angelica. She was leaning on the parapet, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers, swaying and humming tunelessly to herself. Even I had to admit she looked pretty loopy.
“It’s the bluebells, Graham. They flower in the spring. She was heartbroken, sure, but that picture has to have been taken at least a month before Bill met Josie. So whatever upset her then, it wasn’t Bill leaving her.”
Graham frowned. “If you’re correct about the flowers – and I’m sure that with your horticultural expertise you are – it’s very significant. And yet I don’t understand. You say Bill loves Angelica. And Angelica clearly loves Bill. So why did he marry Josie?”
“
Does
Angelica love him, though? She just said everybody loves him but her.”
“She’s insane!” exclaimed Graham. “You heard what she said to Ruby. She was clearly still devoted to him.”
I remembered Angelica’s outburst the night we arrived. That cracked, dry sob. “I want him back. But I can’t. Never, never, never…” There was no doubting the depth of her feelings. And yet…”
“OK. But suppose she wasn’t talking about Bill? That song title – “
He Ain’t the One for You”.
What if she’d fallen in love with another man!”
“But who?”
“Who else died, Graham?” I demanded, slapping my hand against the wall. “We were right – the motive for the murders
is
jealousy. We just got the wrong culprit.”
All the photographs of Bill and Angelica I’d seen in the newspapers flashed through my head like a slideshow. Bill standing next to Angelica, staring sullenly into the camera. I’d thought it was because he’d lost interest in his wife, but maybe he was seething with emotion. Just behind him had stood a man. I’d assumed it was a bodyguard, but it could easily have been Bill’s PA, Mick. Angelica, her face full of love. Suppose Angelica wasn’t looking adoringly up at Bill, but smiling over his shoulder at the person behind him? Bill’s right-hand man – who might have felt more for Angelica than he was supposed to…