Screaming Yellow (39 page)

“But to know that the blood of a murderer runs through his veins?”

Simon narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Richard is your son by blood as well as by faith, isn’t he?”

“What makes you say that?”

“You told me about your time at university and the woman who broke your heart. That was Edith, wasn’t it? Richard Godwin’s mother. It must have given you a shock when she turned up as the wife of Robert Markhew. It was sweet of her to give him a family name that harked back to the man she loved. ‘Godwin’ from ‘won from God.’”

“She was Meredith Brake when I knew her. She was the one woman I’ve loved in all my life.” Simon looked down at the floor. “She never contacted me again. When she came to Laverstone she begged me not to reveal our past. I worked out that Richard was mine from his birth date. He doesn’t know, of course.”

“Then for his sake I ask you to confess. That’s the one secret you kept from me that I’m prepared to keep hidden.”

“What if I disappear? I promise that you will never see or hear from me again.”

“And let you get away with murder?” Meinwen took a sheet of paper from the printer tray and placed it onto the table with a pen. “I cannot allow that. I gave you your alternatives last night.”

Simon pulled the chair back again. “I cannot contemplate suicide. It is a grievous sin that cannot be forgiven.”

“Your beliefs damn your soul. To a pagan, death by any means releases you to rejoin the Great Spirit.”

“I will not regret my faith. What was your alternative resolution?”

“Write your confession and then we’ll talk.” She crossed the room and opened the door. “Sunset is at three minutes past eight this evening. You have until seven to settle your affairs and meet me at the bandstand in the park.” Her whole demeanor hardened. “Do not disappoint me in this.”

* * * *

Richard awoke to a knock on the door. “Who is it?”

His voice roused his sleeping wife, who opened her eyes. “This is the first time since our marriage that I’ve woken up with you beside me.”

Richard smiled and looked toward the door.

“It’s Amanda, sir, with your breakfast.”

“Come in.” Richard shuffled upward so that he was sitting with his back to the headboard and twitched the duvet over his wife’s naked breasts.

Amanda pushed open the door. “Mistress sends this with her compliments, sir, and wondered if she could talk with you when you’re ready?”

“Of course.” He smoothed out the sheets so Amanda could put the tray on his lap. “This looks good. Toast, scrambled eggs, bacon.” He grinned. “A step up from Mike’s charcoal sandwiches at the White Art.”

“Thank you, sir.” Amanda smiled. “Would you like your tea poured?”

“No thanks, we can manage.” Richard nudged his wife to sit up. “Tell my aunt that I’ll see her in the conservatory at eleven, would you? I want to phone that woman first and find out who really killed my stepfather.”

“As you wish, sir.” Amanda left the room, closing the door behind her.

“I’ll be glad when all this is over.” Richard tore off a piece of bacon and put it between Catherine’s teeth. She chewed slowly then sat up. He grabbed the tray to prevent it spilling.

“Then you’ll be the master of the house and I shall be the mistress.”

Richard laughed. “In name, perhaps, but behind closed doors you’ll still be my little angel.” He grinned at her pout.

“Do you still love me?”

“Of course.” Richard leaned over and kissed her. “That’s why I shall take on more submissives, so you don’t have to do the cleaning anymore.”

Catherine reached for a piece of buttered toast. “Will you carry on the tradition of cooking for the staff?”

“Once a week,” Richard promised, “but only if you can’t. Otherwise it’s a job for the mistress of the house.”

Chapter 36

After meeting Simon at the bandstand, Meinwen led him through the woods and up the steep path to the falls where she had arranged to meet Harold Waterman, the mysterious lord of the manor, his partner and their lawyer. Her torch lit the path in a very small radius, forcing him to stumble over loose stones and roots. Unseen wings fluttered through the branches and small beasts scurried past.

“I thought you didn’t like the woods?”

“I don’t.” Meinwen didn’t glance around. “Most of the time I feel as if I’m being watched. Did you know there was a monolith at the top of the falls?”

“In the clearing, yes. What of it?”

“It’s part of a stone circle enclosing the whole town.”

“More of your mumbo jumbo?”

“If you like.” She fell silent for a moment. “It makes the whole town harmonious with the ley lines.”

“
Pah
.” Simon spat as they reached the top of the steep path, the waterfall to their left. “Now what? If you think I’m doing anything stupid you’re very much mistaken. I could just throw you over the edge right now. It’d be a terrible accident.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Meinwen gestured with her torch. “There’d be witnesses.”

Three figures stood a little way back from the leat, two with old-fashioned lanterns and one, a woman, with no source of light at all. The woman approached and Meinwen stepped forward to meet her.

She shuddered at the two men left in the background. Harold Waterman and his friend Mr. Jasfoup dressed in a bishop’s cloak and miter. It was good of them to agree with her idea and Mr. Jasfoup’s disguise would have fooled his mother, if he had one. She wondered if he was really a bishop. It would explain why he made her flesh creep.

Gillian du Pointe walked up to them and dropped a bag on the ground. Meinwen looked into her eyes. They were almost colorless and reflected the vibrant pinks of the early evening sky.

Gillian looked directly at Simon and unfurled a parchment scroll adorned with the seal of Laverstone. “Simon Brande. You have been found guilty of the crime of blackmail within the demesne of Laverstone.”

Simon snarled. “What’s going on? Miss du Pointe? You’ve no authority here. I’m going home.”

“You don’t really have the opportunity for questions.” Gillian kicked the bag toward him. “My authority comes from the lord of Laverstone manor and Bishop Mauvais of the Franciscan monastery in St. Albans. Take off your clothes and put these on.”

Simon stared at her. “I shall do no such thing. Meinwen? What is this absurd arrangement you’ve made?”

“It’s your other choice.” Meinwen turned toward him. “One that will fit very well with your faith. You are to atone for your sins as a monk under a vow of silence.” She nodded toward the two men. “The abbey will hide you from justice and keep the good name of your church out of disrepute.”

Simon snorted. “I’m not becoming a bloody monk. You have no proof I did anything and saving Richard heartache isn’t worth this.”

Meinwen indicated the waterfall and the two-hundred-foot drop to the rocks below. “Then jump. No one will stop you. In the eyes of the parish you will be dead either way, thus saving the reputations of your sister, your son and your parishioners.”

“I won’t.” Simon drew even farther from the edge. “I can say the confession was made under duress.”

“Then face the consequences like a man.” Meinwen said. “We’ll go to Inspector White together. I have your confession. I’m sure that Jennifer and Richard will get over it in time. They might even visit you in prison.”

Simon looked at the churning water and back at Meinwen. He sighed and began to unbutton his coat.

Chapter 37

Meinwen looked up into the imposing features of Inspector White, never at his best when woken before dawn to look for a body in the river.

He took a sip from a plastic traveler’s coffee mug. “You should have told me sooner. You could have been killed, confronting him like that while you were alone in your house. There’s nothing more dangerous than a cornered beast.”

Meinwen nodded, her gaze cast to the ground. The inspector’s boots could do with a clean, she thought. It was probably only mud from the woods but it still gave a less than favorable impression. “I realize that in hindsight, Inspector. I have the whole thing here.” She handed him a padded envelope. “That contains all my notes on the case, plus Simon’s confession and a DVD of the talk I had with him the night before last. There would be enough there to convict him if he hadn’t…”

“There’s little you could have done.” White looked over the edge to where police divers were searching the river with floodlights. “If he hadn’t done it like this he’d have found another way. It saves the taxpayers a costly trial, mind. I’m just surprised that it turned out to be him.”

“You never expect a priest to be a murderer.”

“Still…” White looked at the churning water. “To throw yourself into that…” He shook his head. “It’s like Sherlock Holmes at the Reichenbach Falls.”

Meinwen sighed. “And I was his Moriarty.”

White nodded. “Just be glad that you called me first. If he hadn’t jumped by the time you got here he might have tried to take you with him.” He returned her phone and went to supervise the search, tucking the envelope into his voluminous overcoat pocket.

Meinwen looked at her received messages. The most recent had been from Simon at eleven-fifteen last night.

I have one last secret to reveal. Meet me at Lover’s Leap.

She had been safely at home then, freshly showered and broadcasting on webcam while chatting to Jennifer, worried about her missing brother. She’d called White then the manor, giving Gillian and Harold good reason for having their footprints at the scene. Gillian had then wiped Simon’s cell clean of fingerprints and thrown it into the waterfall.

“Penny for your thoughts, Ms. Jones?”

Meinwen looked up into the smiling face of Sergeant Peters.

“You looked miles away,” he said. “I’ve brought you a cup of tea. You must be freezing.”

She smiled back. “Sorry. It’s been one hell of a week. I was debating whether to stay here or go back to Wales.”

“Oh, stay.” Peters stopped a little way from the crime scene and took a sandwich from his overcoat pocket. “Nobody will blame you for any of this. They’ve got you to thank, after all. I wouldn’t be surprised if you got a little compensation for your time. The crown will seize his bank accounts and refund the blackmail money out of the Criminal Compensation Fund. It’ll go to Grace Peters’s estate.”

Meinwen smiled. “Susan Pargeter at The Larches will be happy.”

Peters nodded, biting into his sandwich. “Aye, she’s going to get a windfall. We’d have never cottoned on if he hadn’t returned the twenty grand Sir Robert had set up as a fund transfer from his account.” He offered her the sandwich packet. “Want one? Tandoori chicken and beetroot.”

“No, thanks.” Meinwen shook her head.

“Sorry. I forgot that you people are vegetarians.”

Meinwen was about to correct him when there was a shout from one of the divers. “What’s happening?”

The sergeant looked across, interpreting White’s gestures. “They’ve found an arm. Poor bugger must have had it wrenched clean off on the rocks as he went down.”

* * * *

Jean Markhew entered the conservatory to find Richard sitting in the single wicker chair. He smiled as the door opened. “Good morning, Jean. You wanted to see me?”

She replaced the frown that crossed her face with a smile. How dare he sit in her chair? “Yes, thank you, Richard. I appreciate it.”

“My pleasure.” Richard rang the small handbell. “Coffee for two,” he said when Amanda entered. The maid curtsied and glanced toward Jean for confirmation before leaving. Richard waited for the door to close behind her. “Thank you for taking care of the house and staff. Had I thought more clearly I would never have left.”

“I’m sure Simon meant well,” Jean hesitated, sucking at her bottom lip. “About the staff. My role toward them has changed significantly during the time you were away.”

“Oh?” Richard raised his eyebrows. “I am well aware of what your position was. Have you now decided to take his place?”