False Alarm Page 24

  ‘This is where you came in?’

  ‘Not so fast. One of his problems was how to keep Lady Ossett calm at that crucial point in time. The last thing he wanted was for her to go yowling to the papers about their separation or a trip wire on the stairs. But his younger mistress was beckoning. So when the incident occurred, he seized on it as an excuse to walk out of the penthouse suite, telling Lady Ossett that this was a fake separation to keep her from harm while he identified the villain of the piece.’

  The inspector suspended operations, wooden spoon in the air, ‘She wasn’t responsible for the tripwire, was she?’

  ‘No, of course not, but she was sharp enough to realize that all was not well, to look very hard at his motives, and to wonder who the trap on the stairs was really meant for. She went along with his story in public but in private she was genuinely afraid for her own personal safety. Rightly so. She got into such a state that she ordered her daughter Maggie to return home to look after her.’

  ‘What? But why would anyone want to kill her?’

  ‘That indeed is the question. I’m not sure that the intention was to kill. It may have been just to frighten.’

  ‘Why would Tariq want to frighten her?’

  ‘He didn’t. Look; Tariq is a red herring. He got up everyone’s noses by playing music too loudly, too late and too often. Sir Lucas and/or Lady Ossett complained, and Tariq’s music equipment was confiscated. It was an open secret that it was Tariq who keyed Sir Lucas’s car and, either in response to that or because he wasn’t any good at his job, he got the sack, which meant he fell behind with his rent. Naturally, Sir Lucas, being paranoid and imagining that everyone had it in for him, conceived that Tariq was the accomplice to whoever it was at head office who was plotting his demise.’

  ‘And he wasn’t?’

  ‘No, it was all in his imagination but, being Lord High Everything and accustomed to having his slightest whim obeyed, Sir Lucas overreacted. He instructed the caretaker at the flats to confine Tariq to quarters until such time as he could be interrogated by his security men . . . which caused further complications.’

  The inspector was using far too many saucepans. Men always did. She quailed at the thought of the washing up this might entail. Thank goodness they had a dishwasher.

  ‘Are you saying Sir Lucas imagined the trap on the stairs?’

  ‘Oh no. There was one, but I really don’t think it was meant for him.’

  ‘Is there any evidence that it existed, apart from Sir Lucas’s story?’

  ‘Yes, I took some photographs of the holes left by the nails or screws of whatever. They’re on my computer at the moment. The holes were filled in later, by the way. In my opinion, Sir Lucas was lucky to get away as lightly as he did. If Lady Ossett had tripped, the result might well have been fatal.’

  ‘I’m going mad here. Why would anyone want to kill her?’

  ‘And I say again; I think the intention was more to frighten than to kill, as evinced by the second attempt on Lady Ossett’s life. The steak which she’d left out for her supper was treated with poison, which resulted in the death of the cat Momi who lived in the building. Lady Ossett said she’d sent the evidence of the cat’s poisoning to Sir Lucas, but I doubt if he did anything about it. His view is that Lady O stage-managed the death of the cat in order to persuade him to return to her.’

  ‘But . . . who would want her dead – or frightened? Apart from Sir Lucas . . . I mean. It wasn’t him, was it?’

  ‘It wasn’t him. The poisoning of Lady O’s supper was done by someone who attended the bridge party. Take your pick. There’s quite a number of suspects.’

  The inspector looked grim. ‘Let’s get back to Tariq. I have a warrant for his arrest burning a hole in my pocket. Do you, or do you not know where he may be found?’

  ‘No, I don’t. What’s more, I don’t believe he’s done anything to justify being hunted down like this.’

  ‘Look at it from my point of view. He’s been sacked from his job, was in arrears with his rent, attacked His Lordship’s car and is accused of setting a potentially lethal trap for him. What’s more, he flees before he can be handed over to the police and have his guilt or innocence established.’

  ‘Can you blame him for trying to leave? Do you suppose he would have got a fair hearing if he’d sat back and waited to be arrested . . . for something which he hadn’t done? He fled the building at his second attempt, yes. The first time the caretaker caught him trying to leave, knocked him out, and shoved him back into his flat with a warning not to try that again. Fortunately, he managed to escape the following day.’

  She gave him chapter and verse while the inspector dished up a steaming pile of saffron rice mixed with chicken nuggets, onions and herbs. The scent of it rose to Bea’s nostrils like incense. For a moment she wondered if her stomach would cooperate, but fortunately, it did. She reached for forks, gave one to the inspector, and set to work. They ate in silence. Bea told herself to take it slowly and only eat a little or she’d get indigestion or end up sitting by the loo all evening.

  Slow and sure does it. She suspended operations when she’d eaten a third of what was on her plate.

  The inspector burped and apologized.

  She beamed at him. ‘Any time you want to leave the police force, I’ll find you a job as a chef.’

  The inspector was nothing if not dogged. ‘Could Tariq have killed the caretaker?’

  ‘He was long gone by the time the caretaker toppled over the balcony.’ She took another mouthful and disposed of it slowly. Gently does it. ‘To continue with the tale of What Sir Lucas Did. He knew about the Abbot Agency, not only because Maggie now lives with me but also because some time back he’d put money into a firm which trains people for domestic service, and who are angling for closer relations with me. Sir Lucas has had a poor return on his investment with this other company because their management structure is weak. He saw that if a merger with the Abbot Agency were to go through, I’d sort the other firm out, which would save his investment. So that’s how he knew about me.

  ‘Also, he’d heard from a mutual friend that I’d been involved with sorting out one or two nasty situations in the past, and he conceived the idea that I might be useful to him by acting as nursemaid to his wife. And then his eye alighted on young Oliver. “Ah-ha,” he thinks. “This brainy young man has the right skills to track down the miscreant who has dared to dispute my right to rule over all I survey.” He thought he could kill several birds with one stone by employing us both. I admire the man, in a way.’

  ‘How many birds and of what kind?’

  ‘What sort of bird would you call Lady Ossett? How about a Bird of Paradise? I didn’t want Sir Lucas to co-opt Oliver. I know how power corrupts. I was afraid Oliver might be induced to bend the truth in order to please His Highness. I lost that one. He got Oliver involved with the prospect of a good job in his organization if he would track down and expose the traitor at the flats through their computers.

  ‘Oliver, being young and impulsive, took off like a Roman candle. He thought he’d found the villain when he came across a man called Harvey, a writer of pulp fiction who liked to claim he was something in MI5. Oliver swallowed the tale, he and the caretaker locked Harvey into his flat to await retribution, Harvey roused the neighbourhood with cries for help, the caretaker went into Tariq’s flat to start clearing out some rubbish, and . . . was pushed over the balcony and down several storeys into the yard below. Squashed flat. Dead. And the witness heard a door close straight after.’

  ‘I’m informed it was an accident. You’re not eating? Coffee?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, no. I’m fine. Just taking it slowly. A witness told me someone pushed him. And no; I can’t produce the witness, who’ll deny everything rather than be dragged into court.’

  He gave her an old-fashioned look. ‘You’ll tell me sooner or later. So who do you think killed the caretaker?’

  ‘One of two people. I need to get i
nto someone’s flat to check, but I should be able to tell you who it was tomorrow.’

  ‘Do I insist you tell me who it is now?’ He switched the kettle on to make himself some coffee.

  ‘Wouldn’t do any good. But I’ll tell you what to look for, if you can get a warrant to search the flats.’

  ‘That’ll take a bit of doing, seeing as how there’s not supposed to have been any real crime committed. So far you’ve given me nothing to divert me from the search for Tariq. Misadventure. Accident. A stupid prank, tripping someone up as they went down the stairs.’

  ‘What about Harvey’s death? And the footprints in the snow?’

  ‘What snow? It’s long since gone. I’m reliably informed that Harvey’s death is just another accident.’

  She sighed. Closed her eyes. ‘I can’t get the picture of him out of my head. He didn’t deserve to die like that. He was a comparatively young man, and talented. I maintain he was murdered.’

  ‘Convince me. Who murdered him, and why?’

  ‘Well, not the McIntyres; she’s sick, and he’s devoted. They can only think of their own problems. Not Cynthia and Donald; ditto. Not the couple on the ground floor; ditto again. Not Carmela or the Professor, and not the Muslim family.’

  ‘Which leaves—’

  She took another mouthful of the chicken dish, said, ‘I’ve made a chart which shows where everyone lives or lived. Don’t you dare touch my plate while I fetch my notes. You can work it out from that.’

  NINETEEN

  She found the chart, laid it before him, and returned to her food.

  The inspector put his finger on a name, moved his finger up, and then down. ‘You think one of those two did it? Why on earth would they?’

  A sigh. A shake of the head. Bea took another mouthful of the chicken dish, which was cold but still tasty. ‘I think I know why, but as to which of them did it, I’m not sure.’

  ‘Do you think they might have acted together?’

  ‘There again, I don’t know. They might have done.’

  He threw his arms wide. ‘Ridiculous! Why on earth would either one of them decide to go on a killing spree?’

  ‘I don’t suppose this person sees it that way at all. Consider; she’s living on a restricted income, and although Lady Ossett invites her and her friend to the weekly bridge parties, the stakes are becoming uncomfortably high. Lady Ossett has money to burn and has been somewhat patronizing to two elderly ladies who don’t have a man in tow. It’s a situation which can breed envy and resentment. In addition, you remember that Sir Lucas has been trying to put them all on short-term contracts? Lucy and Carrie have lived there some years. One of them has a decent enough length of time left, but the other has only eighteen months. And where is she to go when that runs out? She can’t afford to renew.’

  ‘All right; that establishes envy. But from envy to manslaughter is a big leap.’

  ‘From discontent and envy to being involved in the death of an old lady is a small step. Lavinia could be very tiresome, waylaying the other tenants on their way in and out of the building, demanding this or that favour. Then one day she died, natural causes, heart attack.

  ‘I’m not claiming that one or both of the friends were responsible for bringing on Lavinia’s fatal heart attack, but one or other of them must have been present at the time of her death, or the old lady’s stick wouldn’t have acquired a new owner. Harvey took photos of everyone, and he took one of Lavinia, leaning on her walking stick. It’s an unusual one, decorated with metal travel mementoes. Lucy has one such stick in her hallstand, and also in a photo Harvey took of her. It wasn’t given to her as a memento of the dear departed, you know. I checked.’

  Bea took another mouthful of her chicken dish. It was good. And giving her some energy, too. ‘So; a little bit of naughtiness, there. And she got away with it.’

  ‘You think it was Lucy?’

  ‘On balance, yes. She’s the dominant one in the partnership, and she ended up with the stick. But they were not the only ones in the building who were going through a difficult time. I don’t need to enumerate all the problems the tenants had, but let’s look at them from the point of view of two elderly ladies with not enough to do and an interest in their neighbour’s doings. What did they make of Tariq and his lifestyle? There was his new partner, noisy parties, the loss of his job and the keying of Sir Lucas’s car. Naughty, naughty. But – giggle, giggle – it all made for an amusing bit of gossip.

  ‘Then there were the rumours of Sir Lucas’s double dealing with his wife. Lady Ossett was not popular, and they must have enjoyed the idea that she was being taken down a peg. And then, oh my dear! The delicious scandal of the call-girl cards!’

  ‘What! What’s that?’

  ‘Didn’t you know? No, I don’t suppose Sir Lucas ever got to hear about that. The victims certainly didn’t want it broadcast. Yes, there were men calling at all hours, demanding sex of Carmela and Evonne. Who’d have thought it! But of course, Carmela was asking for it, wasn’t she? And as for those two young things on the ground floor, giving the place a bad name, getting caught up in the riots, taking drugs no doubt, what a disgrace! The sooner they were out of here the better!’

  ‘What!’ said the inspector again. ‘You mean that—’

  ‘All dealt with,’ said Bea. ‘But at the time it must have seemed to the two ladies that they were living in the middle of a seething cauldron of sex and sin. And none of it was down to them. So, giggle giggle, why not stir the pudding? They were always up and down the stairs, visiting the other tenants. You could say they were poking their noses into other people’s business to enliven their own dull lives, or that they were genuinely interested in trying to help others less fortunate than themselves. One of them probably was being charitable. The other was not beyond making bad worse.

  ‘She starts off by fixing a wire across the top stairs. She’d been a Girl Guide and had learned practical skills. The trap was intended for Lady Ossett, but in fact it catches Sir Lucas and is the final straw in his decision to leave. He thinks it was set up by someone working with an enemy of his at work. Lady O is not so sure. She wonders if perhaps she’d been the intended target.

  ‘“Oh, goody, goody,” thinks our killer. “Now Lady O is upset. More!” She attends the next bridge party and makes an excuse to go out to the kitchen. Momi the cat is prowling around, so she puts poison on the meat which had been intended for Lady O’s supper and feeds it to the cat. It’s a premeditated act. She’d brought the poison with her. Whether she’d actually intended to kill Lady O is another matter. I’m inclined to think not. The aim was to distress, not to kill.

  ‘She might have stopped right there, but when Harvey is locked into his flat by the caretaker, she has a fit of righteous indignation. She knows Harvey wasn’t responsible for the wire across the landing and has been wrongfully imprisoned, so in a fit of public duty she takes it on herself to confront the caretaker. He’s gone out on to the balcony where he’s dealing with the junk left by Tariq. She follows him by going out through her friend’s kitchen door on to the balcony, and in the ensuing argument she uses her stick to poke at him – and he goes over the edge. What she didn’t realize was that there was a witness to the caretaker’s death.’

  ‘What? Who?’ He peered at the chart.

  Bea made a tired gesture. ‘She’s no good to you. She won’t testify. But I can tell you what she saw, which was a woman using a stick to push the caretaker off balance and over the edge of the balcony. And yes, it might be a different stick. For all I know, Carrie Kempton has a dozen such sticks in her flat.’

  He snatched the chart up again. ‘If your witness – who I assume lives opposite Mrs Emerson but directly under Tariq – heard a door close, then surely it was Mrs Kempton whom she heard returning to her own flat.’

  ‘From what the witness said, I don’t think there’d have been time enough for the killer to go down another flight of stairs before going back into the building and closing the
door behind her, so yes; I think the killer went back into the building through Carrie Kempton’s flat. But remember that Lucy is in and out of Carrie’s flat all the time.’

  ‘The witness is a member of the Muslim family?’

  ‘Wild horses wouldn’t get them into court to testify.’

  The inspector threw up his arms. ‘This is all hearsay. I can’t act on hearsay.’ He took a turn around the kitchen. ‘What about Harvey’s death? It’s been put down as misadventure. You’re not going to tell me that was murder, too? Why would one of the old dears want to kill him?’

  ‘Harvey had worked out what she was doing, and he tried to warn me. He talked about fearing people who bring you gifts, and he showed me a picture of Lavinia leaning on her stick. He’d taken a photo of Lucy with what looks like the same stick. I don’t think he’d have turned her in to the police, but I do think he warned her to be careful, and that made him a threat to her. I think she used her stick to pull the typewriter off the shelf above his head. It might not have killed him. It would certainly have frightened him, and maybe that’s all she intended to do. Unfortunately, the typewriter hit him fair and square. Exit Harvey.’

  ‘But . . .’ The inspector shook his head. ‘There’s nothing to be done about . . . well, anything. Is there?’