Murder in Time Read online

  ‘It was an accident,’ said Mr Scott. ‘He’d been drinking pretty heavily that evening. It was dark. I appeared just as he’d opened the garage doors to put the car away. There was no outside light, but there was a street light opposite. I think he mistook me for a burglar, and before I could speak, he rushed at me. He was off his head from the booze. I was yelling at him, but he wasn’t listening. We tussled. I was holding him, trying to quieten him. He stumbled and fell backwards, with me on top of him. Hit his head on the way down. And that was it. He was dead. An accident. Misadventure.’

  He shot a glance at Ellie, who sighed and made no response.

  He said, ‘I couldn’t think what to do. Raff was in such a state. I thought he’d probably blurt out everything that had happened that night as soon as he was questioned, and his future would be … I couldn’t bear to think of it. Then I remembered that there had been gatecrashers earlier that evening. Obviously, they were there for drugs. So I thought that since it had been an accident, and since the police would have plenty of other suspects …’ His voice trailed away.

  Ellie said, ‘First: it was you who went upstairs with Marcella, leaving Raff to deal with the doctor. Marcella wouldn’t have wanted Raff, who was too young to be interested in her. She would have wanted an older man whom she could charm into cosseting her. Second, the doctor had taken very little alcohol that evening. He was by no means drunk. Third, why should you and the doctor come to blows? Sorry, Mr Scott. You might have thought it a good idea to take the blame for Raff twelve years ago, but there’s no point in doing so now.

  ‘Raff was drunk. He blurted out what had happened to the doctor; the gatecrashers, the damage, the youngsters taken to hospital … but none of that would have caused them to fight. No, I think Raff went too far. I think he spoke of the rape. It was on his mind. He was one mixed-up kid, wasn’t he? Hedda, Vera … rape was on his mind, and he let it all out. Dr McKenzie was fond of Vera. He would have been horrified. Perhaps he recoiled from Raff? It was Raff who, conscious of guilt, tried to shout the doctor down … and then … a chance blow, perhaps? Or the tussle that you’ve described … And it ended badly.’

  Mr Scott didn’t speak, but looked steadily ahead at … something he alone could see.

  She said, ‘Raff had taken on a lot to drink that night, hadn’t he? Marcella was clinging to you, in hysterics. Wouldn’t let you leave her side. Raff said he’d get the doctor, who would know how to deal with his wife when she was in a state. I’m sorry, but it was Raff who killed the doctor, not you. I expect it was an accident, as you say. The police will probably agree to pass it off as such.’

  ‘Does it have to come out?’

  ‘You know that it does.’

  He was silent for a long time. Ellie thought he might not speak again, but eventually he did. ‘I only know what Raff told me, afterwards. He said he’d tried to tell the doctor what had happened but got in a muddle, mixing up Dan being in hospital, and the gang wrecking the place and Vera being raped. You’re right; the doctor was sober, but Raff had drunk far too much. He said the doctor couldn’t understand what he was saying, said he must ring the police, and Raff thought it was all going to come out about the rape. The doctor tried to push past him, and Raff took him by the shoulders and shook him, and thrust him back … He was trying to get him to calm down, to see “sense”. The doctor slipped and fell back and hit his head. And that was it. Raff hadn’t meant to kill, just to stop him ringing the police till he’d got his story straight. It was an accident.’

  ‘Raff had fair hair?’

  ‘Mm? Yes. Why?’

  ‘Someone saw him. Not to recognize him.’

  Silence.

  Mr Scott’s lips moved. ‘Oh no.’ And then, ‘If there was a witness, why didn’t they come forward?’

  ‘I don’t think his motives for being out and about that late could bear examination.’

  ‘You mean … a burglar?’

  ‘Probably. So, while you were upstairs with Marcella, your son killed your old friend.’

  He winced. ‘It was an accident. When I came down, Raff was at the drink again. He was mumbling, didn’t make any sense. I asked him where the doctor was. He said he was in the garage. I went out there. Yes, he was dead. My old friend was dead. And my son had killed him. I was devastated. I knew I should ring the police. I couldn’t do it. Raff shouldn’t have to go to prison for an accident. By that time he was so drunk, I was afraid he’d confess to anything if the police got hold of him, so I bought us some time. I got him into our car and took him home, put him to bed. By the morning, when he’d sobered up, I thought he’d be able to give a better account of himself. Then I went back to the McKenzie’s and waited till dawn. Only then did I officially discover the body and ring the police. They didn’t know Raff had been at the house. The police jumped to the conclusion that the death was gang related, and I didn’t tell them otherwise.’

  ‘If you’d both told the truth, Raff could have got away with manslaughter.’

  ‘Not if the facts of the rape came out. I couldn’t risk that.’

  ‘So Raff went off into the Army and got himself killed. Did Hedda forgive him?’

  ‘She discovered she was pregnant as soon as he left.’

  ‘So he had forced her, too?’

  ‘I don’t know about “forced”.’

  Obviously, he had. But Mr Scott didn’t want to admit it. ‘Did they have a chance to marry?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, on his embarkation leave. Luckily. We never saw him again. He was killed within his first month on active duty. We helped Hedda to train as a nurse while we looked after the baby until my wife died and the little one was old enough to go to a good kindergarten. Hedda has a good job now at the hospital, and our granddaughter is the light of my life.’

  ‘Happy days for you. A far cry from what happened to Vera.’

  ‘I suppose so.’ He didn’t give a fig for what happened to Vera.

  ‘Hedda understood what had happened?’

  ‘She has put it behind her.’

  ‘She never thought of marrying again?’

  He cleared his throat, uneasy. ‘She has a man now who wants to marry her. When that happens I plan to sell this house, give her half and buy a small service-flat for myself.’

  ‘How did Marcella cope? She must have noticed that Raff was there with you when she and the doctor returned from the golf club. Didn’t she ever suspect what had happened?’

  ‘Marcella is a charming woman, but she’s only ever been interested in herself and protecting her own interests. She believed, as the police did, that the murder had been committed by a member of the gang. She was devastated. I only saw her for a few minutes after that fatal night. She was too distressed to talk, needed full-time attention. Dan was wonderful, put his own career on hold to look after her. Eventually, she got Dan to find her a flat in Knightsbridge, and she moved on, made some new friends. I haven’t seen her for years. I don’t wish to do so, either.’

  Ellie said, ‘You understand that I must tell the police what really happened that night.’

  ‘Can’t you forget what you’ve heard? What good will it do to blacken my son’s name now?’

  ‘He blackened his own name.’

  ‘And died for it.’

  ‘He’d always wanted to join the Army, remember? He didn’t commit suicide because he’d raped Vera, killed an old family friend and forced your au pair to have sex with him. He did those things of his own accord, and he’s left a trail of misery behind him.’

  ‘You are hard.’

  ‘I’ve had to be. A good many lives were twisted askew because of what Raff did. Dan still mourns. Vera’s life was destroyed. Her son was brought up without a father, in poverty. Another of the offshoots of your son’s action has been to cast an undeserved slur on my husband’s reputation. By the way, you weren’t surprised when I rang you today. Who told you I was on the warpath?’

  ‘Simon Trubody. He’s my sister’s son. My nephew. He�
��s been very helpful.’

  Ellie sighed. Of course! Simon had probably worked it all out years ago. Simon had seen no evil, heard no evil, and spoken none. Bravo, Simon: you’ll go a long way in life.

  Mr Scott said, ‘I spoke to my solicitor about this yesterday. He thinks it unlikely I’d land up in court for what I did, but that if that did happen, I’d only get a suspended sentence.’

  ‘Dan deserves to know the truth.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure he worked it out long ago.’

  No, he hadn’t. Not long ago. Recently, perhaps, he’d begun to suspect …? But that was another matter.

  Ellie reflected that the seeds of the happenings of that tragic night had been sown long ago. The clinging nature of the doctor’s wife, Marcella, and of her niece Daphne, which had hampered and stunted the men in their lives. Dick Prentice’s halitosis and acne, his failure to get a girl, leading to his attacks on women. Vera’s bright, practical nature and good looks, which had attracted the attention not only of the doctor’s son, but also of Dick and Raff, and the others … The link between Simon and his sister … and his cousin Raff …

  The elderly dog heaved himself to his feet as the little girl shot out into the garden. ‘Grandpa, Grandpa, they’re going to let me be the one and only bridesmaid when they get married, and I can choose my own dress!’

  A tall, blonde woman came out of the shadows in the house and stood there, smiling. Behind her came another tall, fair-haired man. Also smiling.

  Ellie drew in her breath. Hedda was the same physical type as Vera.

  Which meant that … had Raff gone after Vera because she reminded him of Hedda? Or the other way round? Vera had said Raff had tried to force her one day at school. Which meant that Raff had taken Hedda as second best … or had it been the other way round?

  Mr Scott had risen. ‘My daughter Hedda … this is Mrs Quicke. Hedda, my dear, I have something to tell you …’

  Sunday evening

  Diana bustled in, late, to collect Evan.

  She picked him up and dandled him in her arms. ‘Has my little chickabiddy had a good day, then? Have you missed your mama?’

  Evan crowed with delight. Something dropped on to the floor.

  Diana held it up. ‘WHAT … is … this!’

  The lost dummy.